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From the Diary of Liz Jackson ...

Date ___________

How strange, really. To be sitting here like this. Once, Jethro and I were in Serbia and I looked at him and said "I'll never ..."

He cut me off. "Never say Never, Jenny. Never say Never."

A lifetime ago, with a different name, a different life, a different world. Sitting on a porch while we waited for the world to come crashing down all for the purpose of catching a terrorist. If only I'd known then how it isn't terrorists we need really to fear but our own selves. Cliche, perhaps. But still valid. The terrorists have always been there - be it with arrows or guns or bombs or drugs in the middle of the night. If I'd known then, I might have walked away from all of it, changed up my five-point-plan. I was so fucking determined to rule the world that I never stopped and asked myself if what I was doing was just as detrimental to the world as what these terrorists were doing.

Never say never? Sometimes you have to. Back then, I never stopped to listen to the voices of my better angels.

A while back, I forced myself to stop and listen. A while back, my heart was broken.

I knew better with her. I knew better because she is me. Because in her eyes I saw every single choice I made myself and I saw the route I'd have gone if the world hadn't crashed around my shoulders. I saw the determination to rule the world. I still see it every time our eyes meet across a Skype screen or every time we are face to face. She has her plan. Work. Husband. Children. Ruling of the world. Somehow she got the world to accept her coming back. Somehow she has stood tall among the bullets that fly. Somehow. And had I been there, I too would have stood tall. I would have created that world for myself. I've no reason to be angry, no reason to be bitter, and once my tears subsided I came to realize that my frustrations at her were only in fact frustrations for myself. I came to wonder if what we love about each other is not simply our love for each other, but also that life we could have led had something gone just slightly differently. For her, the peace. For me, the chase. Sides of the same coin. Remembrances that life for us was woven in choices made twenty years ago. Forever we will be friends, sisters more than lovers - though I do not regret those few days when we could have made the choice to be more. Forever we are a piece of the other. And I do not think that I could have opened my heart the way that I have without what she gave me.

And so I have this new world, this new heart, and it is a heart that includes a daughter. How strange. I once thought Jaime would be that daughter and she is, but from a distance. The God-Child. The reminder that my heart is and will always be not completely my own. And when I see her I hold her so tightly because she is that next life, that heart, that soul. But in the short time I've had Lindsey at my side, she has become that daughter to me. Her mother is more than half a heart to my own but a reality. A reminder that we are not only supposed to love, but we can love as well. That illness does not mean an end. That pride is something we are allowed, but only in small doses. It wasn't until Catherine that I realized it was not fear but instead pride keeping me from love. I used to think I was scared to let people see my deterioration. Now I know that I was too prideful of who I portray myself to be. Strong. Independent. Refusing the help I know I need. There was some sense of glory in it. It's stupid, really. I'm healthier since I've allowed that bit of pride to slip away.

My only heartbreak is that yet again, I am with someone who can't be here all the time. It's easy to let the pride rise in those moments. It's easy to forget that in all of this, I don't always have to be the woman I used to think I wanted to be.


Jenny's still in the hospital and visiting hours are a bitch, so after landing and checking in with her best friend, she makes a trek. Not to the house but to a little place in DC, a place she knows she shouldn't visit. She hadn't expected it to come upon them this fast, but she's not surprised either. Her life is an open book to the US Marshals.

She parks a block away and hoofs down the street, knowing it's probably safer that way. She also knows she's being tailed by an agent, and leaves it be. Her situation is precarious enough and honestly, if Catherine slams the door in her face, she'll want the support. She forces her breathing to stay even while she walks down the quiet street and when she gets to the door she feels like she is supposed to have roses or wine or something other than "Maybe I should have told you the truth," stored up. But she'd never expected to fall like she did. She never expected this. And it isn't fucking fair.

This is, yet again, why people in witsec never truly settle. She's reminded of this as she knocks on the door. It doesn't make it a damned bit easier.

From the Diary of Liz Jackson ...

Date: __________________

I haven't felt this in a very long time. Well, since ...

I just don't know what to do with it. If anything. Of course, it could end up being nothing. So I will do my best to not overthink. Yet ...


Is it too much to hope? To fantasize?

Beyond "I'm Fine" {rp for multiple}

Liz isn't stupid. It isn't that she knows Jenny as well as she knows herself, but she can also count. A year ago, Jenny was pregnant and recovering from the trauma of being kidnapped. Now, she's pregnant and the memories have to be haunting her. She knows her own sleepless nights, her own dreams, her own refusal to acknowledge anything other than being "fine." Jen needs her best friend, even if she won't admit it.

So, disappointing doctor's appointment taken care of and US Marshal's giving their okay for her to be around Jenny for as long as needed, Liz drives up to the mansion. They truly are the tale of two women - craving space and class, yet finding it in different ways. The more that Liz is back East the more she realizes how happy she is out West. Yet this fits Jenny perfectly.

The driver lets her out and she thanks him with a nod. He'll come back for her when she's ready. Jen knows she's here, knows she's coming. She doesn't know that Liz is planning to stay as long as she's needed. Quickly, she makes her way to the door and knocks.
Title: And the Memories So Close
Author: vegawriters (albuquerque_liz)
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Jenny/OFC
Rating: PG-16
A/N: (1) The prevailing theory is that the “Heather” seen in Jenny’s phone in Judgement Day is her sister. But what if it was someone else? (2) siapom requested a NCIS fic. I hadn’t planned on doing this for that rec, but it also fits all her requirements.

Even the wrong words seem to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills your mind
~Howie Day, Collide

And the Memories So Close

I lost you both at just about the same time. One, forever. He has his new life and it's a life he's always preferred. You, to children and a husband you love more than ... more than me. He is gone for good. You, we are forever friends. Soulmates. Most intimate friends. But you have dreams and to worry too much about my emotions as more than a friend is too much for you. But you will have to forgive my heartbreak. He has his job, his girlfriend, his life. You have your children, your husband, your dreams, your life. Forgive me if sometimes I break down into tears.
There's something in Jenny's tweets and emails that gets her hackles up. Something deeper than stress over the job and stress over married life with kids. It's that kind of twinge in her gut that lets her know something is just wrong, that Jenny is serious about taking off to Siberia if she can get away with it. So she does what she can do now, and knows that at some point she and Jenny are going to have to talk about the source of her new found freedom. The reason is simple, but she knows that for as close as they are, Jenny isn't a mind-reader. Jenny has no idea about the deal she's set up. So she's going to talk to her about it. Going to talk to her about anything they want or need to talk about. The good thing about her best friend is that once they get under the crap, they can really talk. Even when they're hurt, they can talk. But more than that, if Jenny needs to get away and talk and be supported, that's what she'll be there for.

So she gets up out of bed and books a flight to Massachusetts. She'll rent a car once she gets back East. Jenny can stay as long as she needs- and show up when she can, though Liz knows logically that it'll just be a couple of days, if that. Life is what it is. She has to clean out the house anyway. It's been on her list of things to do. It's the property she wouldn't let the Marshal's service sell off. This is her childhood playground. She isn't about to let that become a part of a forgotten past. Not yet.

Within days, she's unlocking the door to the cabin of her childhood. Despite the dust it is meticulously preserved from the last time she was here, six years ago. Despite the jetlag, she gets to work. Groceries unloaded. Hammock restrung. Sheets put on the bed. Iced tea in the fridge. In only a couple of hours the home has transformed into something liveable. Into her own sanctuary. When she's comfortable, she settles in onto one of the porch chairs with an old favorite book (this week it's The Great Gatsby).

Jenny will come when she's able and ready, but this trip is about more than that for Liz. For her, it's a chance to connect to a part of her she thought lost forever. She needs to find herself again. The last year has become a strange, meandering world of being there completely for others or being completely helpless. There has been little chance to walk her confident middle line. So she regroups. Gives herself a moment to breathe. The truth is Jenny does need her, now more than ever. So now, Liz needs to find herself again.
Date: ______________________

I wish I understood my own brain better. I'm not talking about Jenny or Adam or even the old feelings that have been stirred up as I sit here with Ziva. But even in my not talking about them, I'm talking about them.

Today, I make little sense.Collapse )
They left a little before nine, saddling horses – Liz gave Jenny Kelly and took Kira – and headed out to the wild horse pastures, down along the creek, toward Liz’s lean-to escape. For a while, Liz rode out ahead, releasing some stress, but the lingering headache from her dance with the wine bottle the night before kept her from racing too far ahead. By the time she circled back, Jenny was trotting ahead on Kelly, and shaking her head.

“Feel better?” She asked. Her mouth was curled in a smirk and her eyes were dangerous. They needed to talk.

For the first time, it was truly tense between them.Collapse )
Note: A scribble made in the journal. Not dated.

“I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your undumb letters, would never write so elementary a phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn’t even feel it. And yet I believe you’ll be sensible of a little gap. But you’d clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it should lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is really just a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan’t make you love me any more by giving myself away like this — But oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defenses. And I don’t really resent it.— Vita Sackville West, from a letter to Virginia Woolf dated 21 January 1926.”

Addendum added: Actually, right now, I resent the wall being torn down. (Not VSW)