Bulletproof

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the characters, ideas, plots, etc. associated with NCIS. If I did own them, Jenny Shepard would not have died.

Author's Note: This is a little piece that I did because I was not happy with the fact that Jenny was killed off. I think that she was the only person that Gibbs had real chemistry with. Now, as I stated, this is what I think. I am not saying that it is true, so if you don't believe this then, please don't hate me. Please leave any comments or suggestions you have.

Lights were becoming visible behind the thin layer of skin that was shielding her eyes from the harsh daylight. As more and more light began to seep in, the woman quickly realized that she was no longer in a void of darkness. Consciousness was now harshly pulling her away from the encompassing darkness, and she could not fight it. She liked the dark, but something was telling her that she needed to come to the surface.

She finally managed to open her eyes fully and keep them open. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes as the first taste of daylight embraced her. Where was she? She looked to the source of the daylight and found a window looking down into a courtyard of some kind. As she tried to take a breath she realized that something was making it difficult. Frantically, she tried to draw precious air into her lungs. She reached for her throat only to be stopped by a tube. As she followed it up, she realized that the tube was obstructing her airway.

She pulled the tube from her mouth slowly, desperately hoping to breathe again. When the tube was finally out, she couldn't help but draw several deep breathes. The sound of a door sliding open drew her attention to a door parallel to her…bed? The next thing she knew, three people were rushing through the door trying to look her over. She quickly realized where she was by the two women in scrubs and the man in a white lab coat. She also realized that several machines next to her bed were making extremely harsh noises that could only signal turns for the worst.

"Hello, I am Doctor Palomino," the man in the white lab coat greeted, "do you know where you are?"

"I am at a hospital," the woman replied as the doctor checked over her vitals.

"Do you remember how you got here?" The doctor asked as he pulled out a pen and a pad of paper.

"I was in a fire fight," the woman stated in a dry voice, "I won, but I was also shot… a lot."

"Yes, you were. You took seven bullets, mostly to the chest. One nicked your left lung and another was centimeters from your heart. You were in surgery for 13 hours to repair the damage and replace enough of your blood to stabilize you. Once you were stabilized we hooked you up to all of these machines. The tube is no longer needed since your lungs should be healed by now, but you still need to stay here for a few days."

"I thought I was gone," she said quietly.

"We did lose you twice, but here you are. Is there anything I can get you?"

"Some water, please," she hissed through her teeth. Her throat was so sore it hurt to swallow.

"Of course, I will get that for you and then we have some things to discuss, but you should just relax for right now."

"Thank you."

As she watched the doctor's retreating form, the woman couldn't help but remember the memories of another hospital, another time, another patient. She was filled with the emotions that caused her to go to that diner. She just had to protect him. It was her fault that those Russians were back. She had been given a job to do, and she had had a moment of weakness. If she would have just pulled the trigger, then she would not be laying in a hospital bed right now.

"Here's your water," the doctor said as he handed her the plastic opaque cup and pulled up a chair. "So, as I said before, we are definitely going to have to keep you here for two nights at the least. You also have the option of any physical therapy that you feel you need, or we feel would be beneficiary. This is optional, but you might want to try some of our therapy for your shoulder. It will have to be in a sling for at least 3 more weeks, but we will see. Do you have any questions?"

"Is there any medication that I will have to take daily that is not through the IV?"

"We will give you something for the pain and a steroid to prevent any infection from the incisions we made during the surgery."

"Okay," she answered, a bit overwhelmed.

"Well then, I will leave you be," Dr. Palomino smiled as he stood up and headed for the door.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said as he turned to leave, "Oh! I almost forgot! You have a visitor who has been stopping by each day to check on you, Ms. Shepard. A Mr. Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I will send him up."

"Thanks," she replied with a small smile. This is going to be interesting. I will finally get a second shot at telling him, and this time I won't hesitate, she thought to herself.

"Hey Jen," crystal blue eyes met green as Gibbs spoke, "it took you long enough to wake up. You have been out for a few days. You had us all worried."

"Even the infamous Jethro Gibbs?" she questioned with a laugh.

"Jen, how could you not tell me about any of that? I was your partner," she could now see the pain in his eyes and it was gradually seeping into his voice.

"It was my fault that they were back, and I couldn't take a chance of them going after you, so I faced them myself." Tears were threatening to fall down her porcelain skin.

"I have taken a bullet before Jen, and I would have done it again in a heartbeat." He was now staring at her with an almost tangible intensity.

"I didn't want to lose you, Jethro." The tears were now falling freely. When Gibbs saw this he walked towards her bedside and embraced her.

"I never wanted to lose you," he whispered into her red locks.

"I am sorry, Jethro. My career was on the fast track for success and I didn't want to risk it. It was a stupid choice, but I will not make that mistake again."

They spent several seconds staring at each other waiting for the other to make a move. Suddenly they were kissing and every built up emotion that came with years of regret and longing were poured into a passionate kiss. When they pulled apart, they were both panting and smiling like fools.

"Jen?"

"Yeah?"

"Never apologize. It's a sign of weakness."

"Oh, shut up."

Author's note: I think this good as a one-shot, but if any of you want me to continue it, please let me know. Please press the button and tell me what you think.