This was written for reasons that will take too long to explain, and I seriously debated whether or not to put it up, but then I thought 'what the hell.' So, here it is. It features two characters I don't know very well, so if it's a little OOC let me know. Oh, and it's another SPN/NCIS crossover. These are fun to write for some reason.
Anyway, thanks for reading, I still do not own these characters, and drop a comment if you can.
Jenny Shepard had always put her career before everything else. She strove to always be the best, and with a flawless flare and cute shoes to boot. She wanted to prove to the work force that women could be just as tough, if not tougher, than any man. So, when her name was overlooked for a promotion, something she deserved more than the guy who received it (she was ten times more talented and intelligent than him), she knew that something had gone terribly wrong.
For a while she thought about quitting and joining the FBI or CIA; maybe one of the other 'alphabet soup' departments. Work somewhere where they would recognize her for her talent and intelligence and not for her gender, but she wasn't a quitter. Besides, there was always a chance she would be treated exactly the same way at any of those other departments. So, she decided to drown her sorrows at a local bar.
She started out with the hard stuff (Jack and Jim her best friends tonight) and ignored anybody who tried to hit on her. This wasn't that kind of night. After snubbing three guys, and a very drunk sorority girl, the bar's patrons began avoiding Jenny. She didn't mind, she wouldn't want their company no matter how drunk she got.
"If you don't slow down, I'm fairly certain someone will be carrying you out of here," a voice said, startling Jenny, and a blonde girl sat next to her.
Jenny just threw the girl a dark look (remembering her new partner giving her a similar look a thousand times) and returned to her drink.
"Of course," the girl continued, ignoring Jenny's attempt to make her go away. "I don't blame you. I know what it's like to be overlooked; thrown to the side because they want a semi-intelligent man doing the job instead."
"What?" Jenny looked over at the girl, furrowing her eyebrows. "Who are you?" she demanded wanting to know how this girl, this stranger, could know what she had been thinking.
"A friend," the girl replied with a nonchalant shrug.
"Look, I don't know…"
"I know someone who can help you with your problem. My…" the girl trailed off, thinking for a beat, no doubt searching for the right word. "… friend makes sure people get what they want, when they want it."
"Your friend, huh?" Jenny scoffed, shaking her head. "No thanks," she said getting to her feet. "I don't deal with criminals."
She intended to throw some money on the counter, but stopped when the girl said, "He'll make sure you get promoted every, single time, and it won't cost you anything for ten years."
It might have been the alcohol taking charge, but Jenny was sorely tempted. Every promotion she wanted could be hers. She could be the best, get exactly what she always wanted. It was a dream come true, but also too good to be true.
"What would he need in ten years?" she asked cautiously.
"Nothing you need to worry about right now. And, I promise, you won't miss it." Something flickered in the girl's eyes, something Jenny couldn't quite pinpoint in her half-drunken state, but whatever it was left a feeling of wrongness in her stomach.
Great, now I'm started to think like my partner, too, she thought with a sigh.
"No thanks," she repeated after a beat, tossing a few bills on the bar's counter. She started towards the door, but the girl's next words stopped her.
"He can bring your partner back."
"What are you talking about?" Jenny asked, her shoulders tensing, keeping her back to the girl.
"Leroy Jethro Gibbs is your partner, right? He's away on assignment right now, but you didn't go because you thought you were getting promoted. He's all alone, dealing with more gunmen than he can handle, and all because you were banking on something that had low odds to begin with."
"What are you talking about?" Jenny repeated turning to face the girl, getting close to her face.
"He's dying, Jenny," the girl replied slowly, "and you weren't there to stop it."
Jenny reeled back from the girl, her heart beginning to pick up speed in her chest. She shook her head, not believing what the girl had just said, wondering how in the hell she knew her name, and was about to bolt when her phone rang.
"You might want to get that," the girl said picking up Jenny's unfinished drink and taking a sip.
Shepard turned her back on the girl again, pulling her cell phone from her pocket and quickly answering it, "Shepard." She listened to the voice on the other end for a few moments, her heart sinking to just below her stomach at the news. "Thank you," she replied hanging up.
"Was I right?"
"How did you…?"
"Was I right?" the girl repeated, cutting Jenny off. "I was wasn't I?" she stood, moving to look Jenny in the eyes. "He's not gone, yet, but it's only a matter of time. Unless…" Jenny averted her eyes from the girl, letting them settle on the floor.
The girl continued, a hint of bitterness in her voice, "Clearly, I'm wasting my time. So, have a great day." The girl started to walk away, heading towards the door, and Jenny almost let her leave, but she knew she couldn't let her partner die. She wouldn't let him die.
"Can he really bring him back?" she asked softly and the girl stopped.
"He can do whatever you want him to," the blonde responded turning to face Jenny, a smile on her face. "What do you say?"
Jenny was quiet for a moment, thinking it over, but finally nodded and said, "Take me to him."
"Okay." The girl led Jenny out of the bar saying, "I'm Ruby by the way."
She took Jenny around the back of the bar, where a dark haired man was standing under a street lamp. She gestured to the man and he said, "The name's Crowley. What can I do for you this evening?"
Jenny knew she only had about a week left before her deal came due. She made sure all her affairs were in order, faked a disease so no one investigated her death too closely (namely Jethro), but she refused to get taken out by a pack of hellhounds.
So, she made sure Svetlana knew where she was going to be and ditched Tony and Ziva. If she was going to Hell, she was going on her own terms and not kicking and screaming. She wasn't banking on Franks joining her, but she couldn't stop him, and maybe Mike could tell Jethro something to ease his mind since she couldn't begin to explain her circumstance.
It wasn't like she hadn't tried, but it was just too preposterous to wrap his head around. Sometimes even she didn't entirely believe it, but the fact of the matter was, she was dying for him, she had made the deal for him, and that was before she fell in love with him in Paris.
She looked out the window at the approaching men, checking her gun. Somewhere she knew Ruby, or, at least, Crowley, was watching, waiting for her damned soul, but in the end, her death would be worth it. It had to be worth it.