Semper fidelis part 3
Nov. 5th, 2008 09:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scarlettdreamAnd here is the next part
The traffic was mercifully light and he made it safely to the elegant town house. He even found a parking space right opposite, for once. When she opened the door to him it was clear Jenny had been working in her office at home. She didn't seem surprised to see him, or else she just hid it well behind the bright eyed curiosity she showed him. She was still in work mode, just slightly more casual because she was home, so no jacket or shoes and the sleeves of her blouse rolled up above her wrists.
“It's late, Jethro.”
“You're still working, Director.” His calling her that was a sign this wasn't a social call.
“You'd better come in.”
She took him through to her study. He’d always admired the room. Books lined the shelves on one wall, the graceful old furniture and the cut glass decanters spoke of past times and the dark jewel like perfection of the Persian rug suggested it was a valuable family heirloom. It was a room that had likely remained unchanged for fifty years and it wore its age well.
However, once he’d learned that this was where Jenny’s father had killed himself, once he’d read the file, another favour he’d called in from Fornell, all it had taken was one look at the stark black and white crime scene photos and all the beauty and grace meant nothing, it was just the backdrop to a death. Now, as he stepped into that room all he felt was a kind of icy cold creeping up his spine.
The idea that Jenny could sit in that chair, at that desk, night after night, was chilling. It was a side of her that he had no idea existed. It was part of why he had such a bad feeling about what had been going on. He knew whatever it was that Jenny had started when she’d sent Tony undercover to bring down the frog was still unfinished. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew it wasn’t over yet.
Jenny went back to her desk and gathered up some of the things scattered across the surface and dropped them into a drawer. He didn't really have a chance to see what it was exactly. He got an impression of photographs and maybe something else, old microfiche or x-rays, and some printed pages, perhaps an old file. She stepped back around the desk. “Can I offer you a drink?”
His eyes immediately tracked to the glasses and bottles on a shelf to one side. He recognised the shape of the bottle of Rare Breed, knew she kept that there for him. He recalled the taste of that particular brand, one he used to drink, the one he'd favoured. But now that taste made him think of death, of bitter defeat. It reminded him of the taste of metal in his mouth, the flavour of his gun, the times he had come so very close to ending it all, until something inside him had shied away at the last second and held his finger from that final moment of pressure and oblivion. He didn't think he could stomach that taste again.
“I'll take coffee.”
If choice was unexpected she hid that well too, and left the room for a few moments, returning with a mug that she handed to him. It was some kind of French roast, likely expensive, probably too delicate for his taste, but he swigged it down all the same, and was pleased it didn't taste too bad. Jenny poured herself a drink, the bourbon surprisingly, so maybe she didn't keep it there for him after all. Once she had settled herself deep into one of the leather chairs she simply waited patiently for him to speak.
“You never really explained everything about this undercover thing with DiNozzo.”
“I didn't, no.”
“You need to.”
“No, Jethro, I don't.”
“I'm his Boss, I need to know.”
“I'm his Boss, yours too. It was a need to know situation, and you did not need to know.”
“DiNozzo is on my team, Director, and I need to know about anything that affects my team.”
“I seriously hope you are not questioning my authority, Agent Gibbs, because if you are maybe we should have this conversation tomorrow, in my office. There are several issues regarding leadership and the chain of command that even now you seem to have problems remembering.”
Gibbs really didn't understand where her anger had come from. He was still a little raw around the edges himself. He took a moment to swallow his own angry response before saying calmly. “I just have a feeling that whatever it is, it isn't over. I want to be prepared.”
“Oh a famous Gibbs gut feeling.”
He took a deeper breath, trying to notch it back another level, trying to combat her inexplicable fury. “I know I made a mistake.”
“I believe you may have made several. Which one in particular were you thinking of?.”
Jenny was clearly intending to make him work for this, and Gibbs figured maybe she was entitled. He had left her high and dry when he'd run off, and even after he was back he hadn’t been much use to her, apparently. She hadn't trusted him enough to tell him the whole truth about the frog and he hadn't called her on it, even when he caught her tell and knew she was lying. So maybe he was owed this, and he'd never had a problem taking his licks, when he deserved them.
“When I left. I didn't think it through. I didn't consider all my obligations.”
“That sounds remarkably like an apology. But isn't the mainstay of the Gibbs creed never apologise?”
“You know I'm not so sure I ever said that!”
“Oh you did, you definitely did, many times.”
“Well maybe I shouldn't have.”
“No perhaps not, but it's too late now, its virtually part of the induction for new NCIS Agents.”
“I'm sorry I ran out like I did. I know I screwed things up, but I intend to make that right.”
Jenny got up and wandered across to the liquor, splashing another generous amount of bourbon into her glass. As she took a long slow sip she held the bottle up, offering Gibbs a second chance at a drink. He shook his head, he still had coffee in his mug and he wasn't going to drink any more liquor that night.
“I can't believe you said that.”
“I can't believe I did it.”
“Maybe that makes us even, Jethro?”
“Not until you tell me everything that's been going on with this frog thing.”
“Jethro..” She sighed. “It's complicated.”
“Well you're a complicated woman, Jen. That I do remember.” He held her eyes when they darted to him. He tried to let her see he wasn't being flippant, that he would understand, no matter what she was going to tell him.
“The night my father died, I was meant to be there. But something came up and I didn’t make it.”
“And you blame yourself? Don’t do that Jen, don’t play the what if game. It will just drive you crazy. Believe me, I know.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s the timing. Less than an hour before I should have been there, he’s dead. If he ...” She took another drink maybe to steady her voice. “He wouldn’t have done that if he thought that I’d be the one …” She drained the last of her drink, her voice was harsh now. “A father wouldn’t want his daughter to find him like that? Would he?”
“Ah, Jen … ”
“I never believed it. He wouldn’t have left ... ”
She couldn't keep the raw edge of her feelings in check, Gibbs could hear the pain it caused her to talk about it, and he knew he had to give her something. He remembered enough of their time together to know he'd never been completely truthful with her before, but he believed he was a different man now, wanted to be anyway, and he owed her some honesty at least.
“I know, sometimes I feel so angry with Shannon. I just want to yell at her and say why didn't you take care of yourself? Why didn't you take care of Kelly? But someone explained it to me, that feeling, it's grief, part of loosing someone you love.”
She was quiet for a long time. Standing, holding her glass, just looking down into the empty crystal. Eventually she found her voice. “You never said a word about them, before.”
“I know.”
“You had a family. A wife and a daughter, and you never said a word about them.”
“I know, and I'm sorry.”
She turned away from him, hiding her face, hiding whatever she was feeling. “How could you keep that a secret?” Her knuckles were white and she gripped the glass so tight her hand was shaking, just a little. But that was the only sign of emotion. He waited her out, guessing she had more to say. “How could you not tell me? You bastard!”
At last the tension seemed to drop out of her, she sighed and looked back at him, her face composed again, only the glittering wetness in her eyes betrayed her feelings.
“I didn't keep them a secret, I just ... It was too painful. I buried it so deep. And I never let myself go there, Jen.”
“It's like I didn't know you.”
“You did. I haven't changed.”
“Believe me, this... tonight? This is different, Jethro... you're different.” She stood there, just looking at him, like he was a stranger.
“Wouldn't have made any difference to us though.”
“I guess we'll never know.” There was a finality in her words.
But Gibbs did know. Whether it was an actual memory or simply knowledge of who she was now, this woman who seemed like she was just about to fly apart, had a core of steel her that allowed her to make the difficult decisions. He knew that their time together, and their break up, had all been played out on her terms. Just as he knew if he wanted her to tell him what had been going on that would have to be on her terms as well.
Eventually she broke the silence. “The arms dealer, La Grenouille, was connected to my father. During the investigation into his death it started to look like he might have had my father killed. But you know the official ruling was that he had taken bribes and then, when he believed he was going to be exposed, he killed himself.”
Gibbs held his peace, he had heard the frog admit that very thing, here in Jenny’s study several months ago.
She poured more bourbon into her glass then turned and splashed a slug of it in to his coffee without asking.
“His name came up recently, in connection with a suspected terrorist backer, and we needed to get close to him fast. I had Tony working several aspects of the case, but in the end only one of them panned out, the daughter. She was working as a doctor here in Washington. It was the easiest way, get to the father through the daughter. So I asked DiNozzo to concentrate on that aspect.”
Gibbs took a sip of the coffee. He understood she needed the drink to get through this and Jenny always hated to drink alone.
“I probably gave DiNozzo more leeway than I should have.”
Gibbs just looked at her. He knew this was her bête noir, and that if this assignment had gone too far it wasn't down to DiNozzo.
“Okay I encouraged him to get as close to her as he could. And it went on for several months. Maybe things went too far.”
“Ya think?”
“Don't be a self righteous ass, Jethro. You know how these things go. Everyone involved was over the age of consent! La Grenouille was dirty, and sometimes you have to play in the dirt to get results. DiNozzo's a grown-up, he knew he was getting into.”
“Did he?”
“If he had a problem he could have come to me.”
“What about the girl, did she understand what she was getting into?”
Jenny had the grace not to answer that.
“And when it ended?”
“He told me he broke it off with her, that he’d ended it cleanly and there weren’t going to be any problems. He told me he was fine.”
“And you believed him?” Gibbs was beginning to understand now, the way Tony had been acting, the things he'd said. “I knew there was more to it than he’d said, but I thought you were covering his back, Jen.”
“I may have misjudged the situation …”
Gibbs caught her eye. He might feel that he owed her something but he wasn't going to let her get away with that.
“Yes, he got too close. I think he lost sight of what we were doing. I should have picked up on that. I should have pushed him harder to tell me the details when it was over. I admit it was a real mess, Jethro.”
“It still is.”
“No, the situation resolved itself. She left, I checked, she’s in Africa now. And DiNozzo seems fine with it. He’s had months to put it behind him and get back on track.”
“Jenny, I may not remember half the things I should, but even I can see DiNozzo is a very long way from being fine with this.”
“Well, if you look at it that way, none of us are okay are we? We all have our secrets, don‘t we, the things we regret? But we just have to get on with our lives.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed the rest of her drink.
Gibbs noticed her hand was still shaking. It was so unlike her to be less than a hundred percent in control, and suddenly he had another feeling, in his gut. He was certain something was wrong with her.
“What is it, Jen?”
She shook her head and when she met his gaze, although her eyes were glittering as if she was holding back tears, she was back in charge. “Nothing. I'm fine. You on the other hand are not looking fine. Get some sleep, you look as if you need it.” She glanced pointedly at his injured knuckles. “And make sure Dr Mallard sees that first thing Monday. I want confirmation that you're fit to work in the field before you start anything.”
“It was just a woodwork accident. It's nothing.”
“We'll let the Doctor decide that shall we.”
“What about DiNozzo?”
“Tony's a big boy now. He'll be fine. But I will keep him out of any special assignments for a while longer. Does that satisfy you?”
“Nothing from the op that might come back and bite us on the ass?”
“No Jethro, it's dead and buried. Trust me on that.”
link to Semper Fidelis part 4
The traffic was mercifully light and he made it safely to the elegant town house. He even found a parking space right opposite, for once. When she opened the door to him it was clear Jenny had been working in her office at home. She didn't seem surprised to see him, or else she just hid it well behind the bright eyed curiosity she showed him. She was still in work mode, just slightly more casual because she was home, so no jacket or shoes and the sleeves of her blouse rolled up above her wrists.
“It's late, Jethro.”
“You're still working, Director.” His calling her that was a sign this wasn't a social call.
“You'd better come in.”
She took him through to her study. He’d always admired the room. Books lined the shelves on one wall, the graceful old furniture and the cut glass decanters spoke of past times and the dark jewel like perfection of the Persian rug suggested it was a valuable family heirloom. It was a room that had likely remained unchanged for fifty years and it wore its age well.
However, once he’d learned that this was where Jenny’s father had killed himself, once he’d read the file, another favour he’d called in from Fornell, all it had taken was one look at the stark black and white crime scene photos and all the beauty and grace meant nothing, it was just the backdrop to a death. Now, as he stepped into that room all he felt was a kind of icy cold creeping up his spine.
The idea that Jenny could sit in that chair, at that desk, night after night, was chilling. It was a side of her that he had no idea existed. It was part of why he had such a bad feeling about what had been going on. He knew whatever it was that Jenny had started when she’d sent Tony undercover to bring down the frog was still unfinished. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew it wasn’t over yet.
Jenny went back to her desk and gathered up some of the things scattered across the surface and dropped them into a drawer. He didn't really have a chance to see what it was exactly. He got an impression of photographs and maybe something else, old microfiche or x-rays, and some printed pages, perhaps an old file. She stepped back around the desk. “Can I offer you a drink?”
His eyes immediately tracked to the glasses and bottles on a shelf to one side. He recognised the shape of the bottle of Rare Breed, knew she kept that there for him. He recalled the taste of that particular brand, one he used to drink, the one he'd favoured. But now that taste made him think of death, of bitter defeat. It reminded him of the taste of metal in his mouth, the flavour of his gun, the times he had come so very close to ending it all, until something inside him had shied away at the last second and held his finger from that final moment of pressure and oblivion. He didn't think he could stomach that taste again.
“I'll take coffee.”
If choice was unexpected she hid that well too, and left the room for a few moments, returning with a mug that she handed to him. It was some kind of French roast, likely expensive, probably too delicate for his taste, but he swigged it down all the same, and was pleased it didn't taste too bad. Jenny poured herself a drink, the bourbon surprisingly, so maybe she didn't keep it there for him after all. Once she had settled herself deep into one of the leather chairs she simply waited patiently for him to speak.
“You never really explained everything about this undercover thing with DiNozzo.”
“I didn't, no.”
“You need to.”
“No, Jethro, I don't.”
“I'm his Boss, I need to know.”
“I'm his Boss, yours too. It was a need to know situation, and you did not need to know.”
“DiNozzo is on my team, Director, and I need to know about anything that affects my team.”
“I seriously hope you are not questioning my authority, Agent Gibbs, because if you are maybe we should have this conversation tomorrow, in my office. There are several issues regarding leadership and the chain of command that even now you seem to have problems remembering.”
Gibbs really didn't understand where her anger had come from. He was still a little raw around the edges himself. He took a moment to swallow his own angry response before saying calmly. “I just have a feeling that whatever it is, it isn't over. I want to be prepared.”
“Oh a famous Gibbs gut feeling.”
He took a deeper breath, trying to notch it back another level, trying to combat her inexplicable fury. “I know I made a mistake.”
“I believe you may have made several. Which one in particular were you thinking of?.”
Jenny was clearly intending to make him work for this, and Gibbs figured maybe she was entitled. He had left her high and dry when he'd run off, and even after he was back he hadn’t been much use to her, apparently. She hadn't trusted him enough to tell him the whole truth about the frog and he hadn't called her on it, even when he caught her tell and knew she was lying. So maybe he was owed this, and he'd never had a problem taking his licks, when he deserved them.
“When I left. I didn't think it through. I didn't consider all my obligations.”
“That sounds remarkably like an apology. But isn't the mainstay of the Gibbs creed never apologise?”
“You know I'm not so sure I ever said that!”
“Oh you did, you definitely did, many times.”
“Well maybe I shouldn't have.”
“No perhaps not, but it's too late now, its virtually part of the induction for new NCIS Agents.”
“I'm sorry I ran out like I did. I know I screwed things up, but I intend to make that right.”
Jenny got up and wandered across to the liquor, splashing another generous amount of bourbon into her glass. As she took a long slow sip she held the bottle up, offering Gibbs a second chance at a drink. He shook his head, he still had coffee in his mug and he wasn't going to drink any more liquor that night.
“I can't believe you said that.”
“I can't believe I did it.”
“Maybe that makes us even, Jethro?”
“Not until you tell me everything that's been going on with this frog thing.”
“Jethro..” She sighed. “It's complicated.”
“Well you're a complicated woman, Jen. That I do remember.” He held her eyes when they darted to him. He tried to let her see he wasn't being flippant, that he would understand, no matter what she was going to tell him.
“The night my father died, I was meant to be there. But something came up and I didn’t make it.”
“And you blame yourself? Don’t do that Jen, don’t play the what if game. It will just drive you crazy. Believe me, I know.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s the timing. Less than an hour before I should have been there, he’s dead. If he ...” She took another drink maybe to steady her voice. “He wouldn’t have done that if he thought that I’d be the one …” She drained the last of her drink, her voice was harsh now. “A father wouldn’t want his daughter to find him like that? Would he?”
“Ah, Jen … ”
“I never believed it. He wouldn’t have left ... ”
She couldn't keep the raw edge of her feelings in check, Gibbs could hear the pain it caused her to talk about it, and he knew he had to give her something. He remembered enough of their time together to know he'd never been completely truthful with her before, but he believed he was a different man now, wanted to be anyway, and he owed her some honesty at least.
“I know, sometimes I feel so angry with Shannon. I just want to yell at her and say why didn't you take care of yourself? Why didn't you take care of Kelly? But someone explained it to me, that feeling, it's grief, part of loosing someone you love.”
She was quiet for a long time. Standing, holding her glass, just looking down into the empty crystal. Eventually she found her voice. “You never said a word about them, before.”
“I know.”
“You had a family. A wife and a daughter, and you never said a word about them.”
“I know, and I'm sorry.”
She turned away from him, hiding her face, hiding whatever she was feeling. “How could you keep that a secret?” Her knuckles were white and she gripped the glass so tight her hand was shaking, just a little. But that was the only sign of emotion. He waited her out, guessing she had more to say. “How could you not tell me? You bastard!”
At last the tension seemed to drop out of her, she sighed and looked back at him, her face composed again, only the glittering wetness in her eyes betrayed her feelings.
“I didn't keep them a secret, I just ... It was too painful. I buried it so deep. And I never let myself go there, Jen.”
“It's like I didn't know you.”
“You did. I haven't changed.”
“Believe me, this... tonight? This is different, Jethro... you're different.” She stood there, just looking at him, like he was a stranger.
“Wouldn't have made any difference to us though.”
“I guess we'll never know.” There was a finality in her words.
But Gibbs did know. Whether it was an actual memory or simply knowledge of who she was now, this woman who seemed like she was just about to fly apart, had a core of steel her that allowed her to make the difficult decisions. He knew that their time together, and their break up, had all been played out on her terms. Just as he knew if he wanted her to tell him what had been going on that would have to be on her terms as well.
Eventually she broke the silence. “The arms dealer, La Grenouille, was connected to my father. During the investigation into his death it started to look like he might have had my father killed. But you know the official ruling was that he had taken bribes and then, when he believed he was going to be exposed, he killed himself.”
Gibbs held his peace, he had heard the frog admit that very thing, here in Jenny’s study several months ago.
She poured more bourbon into her glass then turned and splashed a slug of it in to his coffee without asking.
“His name came up recently, in connection with a suspected terrorist backer, and we needed to get close to him fast. I had Tony working several aspects of the case, but in the end only one of them panned out, the daughter. She was working as a doctor here in Washington. It was the easiest way, get to the father through the daughter. So I asked DiNozzo to concentrate on that aspect.”
Gibbs took a sip of the coffee. He understood she needed the drink to get through this and Jenny always hated to drink alone.
“I probably gave DiNozzo more leeway than I should have.”
Gibbs just looked at her. He knew this was her bête noir, and that if this assignment had gone too far it wasn't down to DiNozzo.
“Okay I encouraged him to get as close to her as he could. And it went on for several months. Maybe things went too far.”
“Ya think?”
“Don't be a self righteous ass, Jethro. You know how these things go. Everyone involved was over the age of consent! La Grenouille was dirty, and sometimes you have to play in the dirt to get results. DiNozzo's a grown-up, he knew he was getting into.”
“Did he?”
“If he had a problem he could have come to me.”
“What about the girl, did she understand what she was getting into?”
Jenny had the grace not to answer that.
“And when it ended?”
“He told me he broke it off with her, that he’d ended it cleanly and there weren’t going to be any problems. He told me he was fine.”
“And you believed him?” Gibbs was beginning to understand now, the way Tony had been acting, the things he'd said. “I knew there was more to it than he’d said, but I thought you were covering his back, Jen.”
“I may have misjudged the situation …”
Gibbs caught her eye. He might feel that he owed her something but he wasn't going to let her get away with that.
“Yes, he got too close. I think he lost sight of what we were doing. I should have picked up on that. I should have pushed him harder to tell me the details when it was over. I admit it was a real mess, Jethro.”
“It still is.”
“No, the situation resolved itself. She left, I checked, she’s in Africa now. And DiNozzo seems fine with it. He’s had months to put it behind him and get back on track.”
“Jenny, I may not remember half the things I should, but even I can see DiNozzo is a very long way from being fine with this.”
“Well, if you look at it that way, none of us are okay are we? We all have our secrets, don‘t we, the things we regret? But we just have to get on with our lives.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed the rest of her drink.
Gibbs noticed her hand was still shaking. It was so unlike her to be less than a hundred percent in control, and suddenly he had another feeling, in his gut. He was certain something was wrong with her.
“What is it, Jen?”
She shook her head and when she met his gaze, although her eyes were glittering as if she was holding back tears, she was back in charge. “Nothing. I'm fine. You on the other hand are not looking fine. Get some sleep, you look as if you need it.” She glanced pointedly at his injured knuckles. “And make sure Dr Mallard sees that first thing Monday. I want confirmation that you're fit to work in the field before you start anything.”
“It was just a woodwork accident. It's nothing.”
“We'll let the Doctor decide that shall we.”
“What about DiNozzo?”
“Tony's a big boy now. He'll be fine. But I will keep him out of any special assignments for a while longer. Does that satisfy you?”
“Nothing from the op that might come back and bite us on the ass?”
“No Jethro, it's dead and buried. Trust me on that.”
link to Semper Fidelis part 4
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-06-18 07:26 pm (UTC)It reminded him of the taste of metal in his mouth, the flavour of his gun, the times he had come so very close to ending it all...
Great detail, "the flavour of his gun." It immediately evoked the image of a gun in the mouth.
no subject
Date: 2010-06-20 09:46 am (UTC)