Author's Disclaimer: I own nothing. DPB pwns all, I am mearly a fan. All I share in common with any of this is my name is Jennifer. Though, if anyone tried to call me Jenny, I'd kick their ass. :)
Disclaimer: "NCIS: Naval Criminal Investigative Services," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Belisarius Productions, Paramount Network Television Productions, Paramount Television, and CBS Television. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with " NCIS: Naval Criminal Investigative Services," CBS, or any representatives of Pauley Perrette or Cote de Pablo.
Being the first female Director of a Government Agency was not what it was cracked up to be. There were no personal relationships; her job took care of that. There were few friendships, another causality of her job. There was Jethro, but just what was he? Ex-partner, ex-lover, current subordinate; sometime friend and always an annoyance; they all fit him. Even Cynthia, at the end of the day was still only her assistant. There was also Ziva. She too was an ex-partner, ex-lover and current subordinate.
A knock on her door drew her out of her reverie. Realizing how late it was, and the fact that Cynthia had long gone home she gave a sigh and stood up from her desk. “Come in Jethro.” She headed for shelves with their bottles of liquor lined up like toy soldiers.
“Aw, how’d you know it was me?” The wry grin was evident in his voice.
Jenny rolled her eyes from where poured two lowball glasses half full. “Please, Jethro, give me some credit.” She put the bourbon bottle back, handing a glass to Jethro before taking the second.
He held the glass up in a mock toast, and then took a drink. “What’s wrong, Jen? I know things have been tough since the Frog went back underground; but you haven’t been yourself.”
She grimaced as she swallowed the amber liquid. “Boy, you still don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
“Doesn’t pay to, so no, I don’t.”
She knocked back the rest of the glass in one long swallow, “I’m lonely, Jethro. Are you happy?” She turned to look at him, and he was shocked by pain he saw in her eyes.
He took another sip of the bourbon and shook his head, “No, no Jen I’m not. You think I want to see you unhappy? Because if you think that’s what I want, you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”
She set her glass down before walking back to her desk, standing behind it lent her some power, even if it was only in her head.
“I’m sorry, that came out a little harsher then I meant it to.”
“A little?” Again that annoying little grin of his, the one she used to find so damn sexy.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Was there a reason for this visit other then to drink a glass of my best bourbon and verbally annoy me?”
He chuckled, heading to her desk, he put down his now empty glass and pulled an envelope from the inside of his blazer pocket; he set this down beside the glass.
“You’re taking a vacation, inside are your plane tickets, hotel reservations and Passport. Noemi has your bags packed and they’re waiting downstairs in your car to take you to Dulles.
Jenny’s expression was one of pure exasperation. “What!? You expect me to just up and leave,” she snapped her fingers under his nose, “like that!?”
He was nonplused, “Yeah. I do.”
“What about NCIS?”
“It will be here when you get back, I’ll take good care of everything---“
“You mean Cynthia will.” She cut him off.
He gave another grin, “Then you’ll go.”
“Do I have much of a choice?” She looked down, trying to hide the fact that she was at least a little intrigued.
He chuckled, “Naw, I could always hog tie you and drag you on the plane.”
“Somehow I don’t think TSA would approve----wait a minuet, this is a commercial flight, right? Not one of those cheap-ass military cargo flights--- “ She quickly dug out the airline paperwork. “Air France…” Her voice trailed off as she read the flights. “Paris?” She looked up in confusion at Jethro, “Why are you sending me to Paris, of all places?”
He leaned over the desk to whisper in her ear, “I hear it’s lovely this time of year.” He tilted his face a little, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Go Jen, relax, I won’t be there.” He gave her a wry smile as he headed for the door. Hand on the knob he stopped to look at her, green eyes locking with blue. “But Ziva will.” He was out the door before she could reply.
After closing the door behind him he looked down to where Tony was standing in the Bullpen, he gave him a thumbs up. Tony grinned, grabbed an envelope off his desk and went in search of Ziva.