A/N: I'm not particularly happy with the flow and tone of this first chapter. Hopefully, it'll level out in later chapters. This fic is set in season 5, after the Frog incident. It's important to note that jen is not sick in this – she'll have enough to deal with. Hopefully, future chapters will be longer.

This fic is dedicated to AliyahNCIS and Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs for being as awesome as they both are. ^_^

Disclaimer: I do not own the show and am not profiting from this fanfiction.

Chapter One

No one ever said that being the first female Director of an armed federal agency would be easy. Jennifer Shepard had found that out the hard way. In her world of trousers, wearing the occasional skirt automatically meant that every other federal agency and politician underestimated her. Coupled together with the recent incident with the Frog, it was no wonder Jen looked so worn and stressed.

Her old partner sometimes worried about the redhead. He was aware of the long hours she put in her office, often staying until 2300 hours, and of the generous amounts of Bourbon she consumed in her study. Since his attempts at an intervention had gone awry during the case with the Frog, Gibbs had settled on making her everyday life a little bit easier, if he could help it.

A loud bang had Jen look up from her desk as her door slammed open. She regarded the silver-haired man that had entered over the rim of her reading glasses, which she soon set down when she noticed he was carrying a very special something.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't say anything when he placed a cup of coffee in front of her, regarding her with his characteristic half-smirk. Jen leaned back in her chair, returning the slight smile with poised eyebrows, fingers arched together elegantly. With her chin, she motioned to the cup he was holding for himself.

"It's almost eleven. That's your, what, seventh cup, Agent Gibbs?" she asked him playfully, wanting to keep his smile in place. "Thank you for the coffee, although I doubt it's the real reason you've barged into my office this particular morning."

"Got a dead petty officer down in Autopsy." he informed her, taking a sip of his drink. Still leaned back, Jen mirrored the gesture and, for a moment, the two were silent as they both enjoyed the warm sensation the caffeine brought as it ran down their throats. "Suspect won't answer the phone or door."

"And what's stopping you from kicking his door open, exactly?" she asked him, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "It's not like you usually respect the privacy doors usually symbolize." her eyebrows were now pointedly arched, amusement glittering in her green eyes. At the look on Gibbs' face, her eyebrows rose even more. "Don't tell me, you don't have a warrant?"

"Suspect's a CEO in an affluent business. Breaking in won't be that easy and Legal's sitting on their asses." he replied irritably, his frustration rising when he realized how much she was enjoying this.

"I'm glad to see that, for once, you decided to ask first." she told him, taking another long sip of her coffee and setting the cup down. The beverage had done wonders to lighten her mod. "I'll call some contacts to speed up the warrant." she told him, putting on her glasses again. She turned back to the file she was reading before she realized he was still there. "Yes, Jethro?" she asked him. He tilted his head to the side, gave her that infuriating half-smirk of his and walked out. Her door closed after him just as silently as she wished it would be opened.

Two hours later, Jenny pushed her papers away and leaned back in her chair, rolling her neck and wincing as the joints in her shoulders cracked. Her morning had been hectic and, barring Jethro's surprise visit, work had been hell. If it had been a month ago, she might have resorted to her stash of Bourbon to gain some liquid courage. At the thought, however, the redhead shook her head. She was trying to move past that chapter in her life. What she wanted was to return to what she was before Jethro's coma. That wasn't happening, however. He had left, and nothing would ever change that. Just as nothing ever changed Paris.

Still, she didn't have the time to be dwelling on past regrets. She had lunch with a Senator planned so, with a slight groan, she rose to check her make-u and leave. Her security detail would be waiting. For her downstairs in the garage, ready to escort her to the expensive restaurant the Senator had chosen. As she reapplied her lipstick, she sighed at the choice; she could never understand why the men she agreed to business with felt the need to try and impress her.

As she re-entered her room, her door slammed open once more, narrowly missing her. Gibbs only paused a second when he realized where she was standing; he had expected her to still be at her desk.

"I need that warrant, Di-rec-tor." he told her, stressing her title mockingly. His cobalt eyes flashed dangerously as he invaded her personal space, looming over her. Reflexively, she strained to her full height, hating that he was still taller than her, even with heels. One could hardly intimidate someone when they were shorter. By the scowl he had plastered on his face, she could tell he was visibly angry and frustrated by the time it took to get what he wanted. It only brought out her own irritation at his attitude; she'd had more than enough of his attempts at bullying her. The day had thrown her enough to deal with without his temper tantrums.

"I know you don't like ass-kissing, Agent Gibbs," she said in icy tones, giving him her own version of the Gibbs-glare, "so let those who can do it better than you take the time they need. I know you can't pace yourself, but barging into my office will not make that warrant appear as if by magic on your desk!" she barked.

Gibbs only grew angrier at her tone and words, gazing down at her coolly. . "If I recall, you can't pace yourself either, Jen." he remarked irately. "I need that warrant. If that bastard walks because you people like bureaucracy more than you do putting away criminals, I'm holding you responsible." he said.

"Are you threatening me, Gibbs?" Jen dared him, glaring up at him.

"Of course not, Director." he said, his glare matching hers, then he stormed out of her room for the second time that day. This time, he slammed the door shut behind him.

It took Jenny a few minutes to compose herself and calm herself down after he had left. Sometimes, he could make her so furious! However, she reminded herself, she had a schedule to keep. One that would not wait on Gibbs' fancies and demands.

Honestly, he can be such a child... she thought to herself with a sigh, aware that he was only keen to do his job. Still. She would blame their argument on him for the moment, calm down, then pretend that it never happened. She knew he did the same. It was the only way they could keep working together, when such small arguments happened on a weekly basis, at least. Neither was worse off for it, though she suspected he was the main reason she still had a bottle of bourbon in her office.

With a sigh, Jenny locked her office behind her, left instructions for Cynthia in case she was needed and called the elevator. Over the hand rail, her eyes met Jethro's, both still fuming. Amidst the anger, however, both sensed the other also felt regret for their argument earlier and, so, when Jen stepped into the elevator and the doors closed I front of her, she felt slightly better for knowing he didn't hold it against her. As Director, she shouldn't have given a damn. As Jenny, she gave too much of one.

Her security detail was waiting for her when those metallic doors opened once more, escorting her to her car, then driving her off towards her appointment. Though she was in no mood for pleasantries and political chit-chat, the Director knew more than to jeopardize public relations because one of her subordinates saw fit to doubt her authority. It really infuriated her when he did that.

Twenty minutes later, she was seated with the Senator, a fake smile on her face as she exchanged greetings. The redhead found it difficult, but she succeeded in getting through the lunch date without texting her assistant under the table to bail her out with some urgent excuse. Still, she was utterly relieved when she finally parted from the man, stepping into her black car once more.

Inside, Jen relaxed on the comfortable leather, her head leaned against the tinted windows. She was working on three hours' sleep and was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open. I need coffee. She thought to herself as her driver pulled out of the deluxe hotel's parking and took the road back towards NCIS Headquarters. She felt herself relaxing even further, trusting her agents to rouse her once they arrived in the navy Yard's underground garage. As they sped down the main street, she allowed her mind to wander over the events of the day, jaw clenching as she remembered Jethro's threat. An hour of boredom had taken the edge off her fury; now she was just mildly irritated. She thanked her lucky stars for that; if she couldn't calm down quickly after every single argument she had with Jethro, she was sure she'd have a heart attack before she turned fourty-five.

She was roused abruptly from her reverie when she heard the sharp squeal of their brakes. Her momentum carried her forward right into the leather seat in front of her. She let out a grunt as her forehead hit the headrest. Before she could come to her senses and pick herself up, another crash followed to her door. Jen heard the crash, then knew no more.