TITLE: Here comes goodbye
AUTHOR: nicis_anatomy
CHARACTER: Jenny Shepard
GENRE: Gen, Angst, Character study
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 1956
SUMMARY: Before her trip to Los Angeles Jenny sits down to write a letter ... - written for prompt #24 "Out of time" for 24_times
WARNINGS: Spoiler for 5.18/19
NOTES: The story is not beta'd - I hope there aren't too many mistakes in it ...
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters (although I'd love to own Action Figure Gibbs), nor am I making any money from them. If I would Season 5 would have ended different.

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Dear Jethro

I know this might seem strange to you and maybe it isn’t the best thing to do for me, but right now I have the feeling that writing you this letter is the only possible way for me to tell you all these things I need to tell you.

I’m running out of time. Truth is I have no idea how much time I may actually have left to do all the things I wanted to do before I die. I don’t have a list or something, I just … I just need to finish some things – tie up loose ends, if you want to call it like this. I don’t, though … because you are not a loose end. You and I, we … we had something special, something that will never fit into a stereotype.

I know, I wasn’t always straightforward with you and I made my mistakes. I know you hated me for them, and to be honest: sometimes I hate myself for them, too; not because I made all these decisions – I had to do what was best for me - but because I did hurt you with them.
I knew it the first time when I sat at this desk in Paris, trying to find the right words to tell you I had to leave. Back then, I failed, and I’m not sure, if history will repeat itself, by failing again.
But writing this letter seems so much easier than actually talking to you. I’ve tried to talk to you so many times over the past couple of days, I had planned to call you – to my office or invite you over for dinner (yes, I know what you are going to think … I’m not the world’s best cook, but I’m sure Noemi would have loved helping me) – but every time I had the chance, I ran away with the my tail between my legs.
The other day, when you caught me off-guard in the elevator, when you asked me if I was sick I was so close to break down, but as usual the (I know you used to call it that) ‘the Director-mode’ had taken over and I left without saying anything, but that I was fine.
I could have lied to you by telling you I just had the flu, but I know that would have made things only more complicated.

I know you cared for me and I can still remember the last time I was down with the flu. I turned up at work, pretending everything was fine, until I collapsed right in front of your desk with a high fever, and you brought me home to take care of me. I still remember the argument you had with Noemi that night about what treatment was best for me, and I know that this conversation caused Noemi's jumpiness every time you are around, but that day … that was the time I secretly stopped calling you bastard, because I realised that there was so much more behind that mask you were wearing, and I wasn’t surprised that as soon as we were alone in Europe these feeling had grown stronger.
It wasn’t the champagne we had, it wasn’t the hot attic we were stuck in; no it was the flu and your selfless caring that day that opened my eyes and I realised I was falling for you.

Loving someone I worked with was never my intention, and I know you had similar feeling about what we were doing back in Europe.
Do you remember that one night when we started to talked about us? You just smiled at me and tried to wash away my concerns with just one sentence: “People do really stupid things in foreign countries.” It would have been easier to believe you were right, but I only would have lied to myself.
What we did in Europe might have been stupid and careless at times, but I know that what we had wasn’t just an affair, something to pass the time. I was in love with you and most of the time I was happy.

You didn’t know that back then, but the years before we met weren’t the best ones in my life.
When I started working for NCIS, when we met, I was full of hatred and possession – I think it’s safe to say that our intentions to become an NCIS Agent were very similar.
My father had just been murdered and I was trying to make sense of all what had happened before and after he had died. Working for NCIS had seemed to be a good opportunity for vengeance. I wanted to hunt down La Grenouille so badly … I hardly could focus on something else. And then I met you. And I fell in love with you. For a few months you draw all my attention to you. With you I started living again. I was finally able to breath again.
You saved my life, without even knowing it. I never thanked you for this and maybe now it's too late, but I want you to know that I needed you then more than anything else.

But I still left.

I left my happy place to go back to the dark side, and although in the end every piece of my five-point-plan fell into place, I regret how I ended what had been between us. We will never know what would have happened if I had followed you back to Washington D.C. - maybe we would be married by now with two beautiful children. Or we would have failed and broke up a few month later. Maybe it would have been between us like your relationship with Diane (without the Fornell-part, of course), Or maybe it would have turned out like we could never imagined. Now I guess we will never know.
I know, sometimes people wish for a time machine or the possibility to go back to undo something, to make it right, but we both know that such things aren't possible.
I chose to believe that in the end everything happened for a reason, and we did the best we could to deal with it.
But I still feel that I owe you an explanation.

In retrospective you could say that La Grenouille had brought us together; and ironically, he was also the one who had torn us apart. Twice.
When our mission was completed, when we were about to return to Washington D.C. (ironically, it was a few days before my father's birthday), I got intel that La Grenouille had been seen in East Germany, only a few hours away from where we had been living in that soft bubble all this time, and suddenly I had to make a decision: You or him. Temporarily (no offense, Jethro, but your reputation isn’t the best when it comes to such things as long-term relationships or marriages) happiness or the chance to take revenge for my father’s death.
I know you probable won’t believe me (and giving what had happened last year, I might not even believe myself), but this wasn’t an easy decision for me to make. But in the end … well, you know what happened, and I still don’t know if that was the right thing to do. Sometimes I regret that I left you, sometimes I think it might have been easier if I had just told you about my father and my intention for joining NCIS. But we both weren’t big talker at the time and the fact that I'm writing you this letter instead of telling you what's on my mind in person, is proof enough that this hasn't changed over the year.

We both are older now, we have experience that we hadn't nine years ago, but that doesn't necessarily mean we also are wiser.
Sometimes I wish I had, though … But I guess that's one of the many things I will never manage to achieve. But that's fine. I have achieved more things than most people in my life, and although you may disagree, I have the right to be proud of them and of most I am. Not of everything, but of most things. And the ones I'm not proud of … well, they are part of my past and the past is would made us to what we are today. There is no way to deny it, and I'm sure you now that, Jethro.
We both made our mistakes or things we regret. We all think from time to time "If only I had done something earlier … if only I had been there faster … if only I hadn't taken that road …" This is normal and I believe these things are also part of what defines us.

Please don't blame me for my mistakes. I know I should have come to you sooner. Back when I was your probie; later when I found out La Grenouille was in reach; after I became the director (or better: a few days before to warn you); last year; I should have asked for your help when I was starting to loose control, and most of all when I found out that I wasn't going to survive this year ...
Please don't think that I did it, because I didn't trust you. I did and I still do. It was just … this was my battle, my war I had to fight alone. You understand that, don't you.
I hope you do. If not today or next month … maybe one day.

And Jethro? Whatever is going to happen, I want you to take care of yourself, of your team, your friends, our … family. These people are the best one could wish for - as friends, as colleagues. Sometimes driving to work had felt like coming home to my family. I do hope nothing will ever torn you apart. You are something special - each and everyone one of you and all together as a group. Don't let anyone tell you different.

And now that I've finally managed to write this letter (my first attempts ended up in the trash) I'm starting to feel that was wrong to write it in the first place.

I know how you felt (and still feel?) about the first one I wrote to you, and I don't want to make the same mistake twice. But then again … I don't know if I will have the guts to talk to you, let alone if there will be enough time left when I return from William's funeral. Maybe there might be time if I just ask you to accompany me instead of Tony and Ziva, but William's death alone is miserable enough and I don't want to make it any worse by telling you I'm dying (and if I back-pedal again, the elephant in the room might make this trip as awkward as any conversation we had the past couple of weeks).
No, I will keep this letter in my desk, and when I return I will decide whether to talk to you or ask someone to keep it until after I'm dead (I know you might thing that's so typical for me, but you also know that I like to be prepared for every eventuality).
And until then I just want you to know that you have been one of the most important persons in my life and I'm thankful we were able to meet.

I will never forget you. You are always in my heart.

Love, Jenny