A/N: This is a character self-reflection written for Skills Challenge #1 at NFA. I wrote it before season 5 started; so I didn't know all the La Grenouille details. That means that the ending is not canon.

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own NCIS, but if DPB wants to give it to me, I'd take it. :)

OBSESSION

Jenny was not angry. She truly wasn't and she'd have words with anyone who said otherwise. Those water guns in the shipping container had driven her way past angry. She was officially livid. It had been all she could do not to yank the one of the guns out of the team's hands and empty the clip into that bottle of wine her nemesis had so kindly left her.

Now, within the quiet of her office, Jenny tried to calm her temper. It was bad enough that La Grenouille had fooled her... yet again. It was worse that he was making her lose whatever vestiges of control she had left. It took some time, and not a little alcohol, to bring her back to something resembling equilibrium. She was surprised that Gibbs hadn't come to try and wheedle more information out of her. She had taken the precaution of locking her door, just in case, but there had been no insistent knocking, no picking of the lock, no shouting... nothing. Jenny shook her head in disgust when she realized that she couldn't decide if she were disappointed or not.

Only now, in the privacy of her office, was Jenny able to engage in a moment of bitter self-reflection. She had been wrong to snap at Ducky. He was right, of course. In spite of his kindly old doctor routine, he was well aware of her state of mind. Oh, yes, Ducky had her pegged to rights. She was obsessed. La Grenouille had been in the back of her mind for years, lurking and waiting for the chance to rise to the forefront, but there had never been even a remote possibility of finding him, and she had thought that she had put him behind her. Then, they had discovered his daughter, Jeanne. As if that weren't enough, they also had surveillance on his comings and goings in the U.S. The person she thought she'd managed to leave in the past suddenly took over again. Jenny didn't feel like the director of NCIS. She didn't even feel like an agent. She felt like a vigilante, and it was an ugly feeling.

The trappings of this office were a visual representation of her own hypocrisy. Jenny knew that her pursuit was nothing less than a vendetta. She could let the CIA do its work, giving them the benefit of the doubt. They were more than competent. After all, Trent Kort had managed to insinuate himself into the Frog's operation without discovery, even after Jenny's own intrusion. The idea of letting them get on with business left a sour taste in her mouth. It wasn't enough for La Grenouille to go down. She had to be there to see it, preferably with a gun in her hand.

With a soft moan, the first sound in the office besides her own shoes pacing the floor, Jenny sank down onto a chair, not at the desk. She couldn't sit at that desk when she felt this way. It would be an insult to the position she held.

With a sigh she poured herself another drink and then held it up to the empty air.

"To La Grenouille. My first love and my last enemy." Jenny downed the shot and broke down in tears.