Disclaimer: Oh don't make me sad. :(
A/N: So I wrote this ages ago, but didn't post for... reasons I don't even understand. Didn't feel like it. :P But here it is.
She's changed. That's his first thought, anyway, when he sees her through the driving rain. When she worked with him she would run from the rain, ducking into shops or cafes – pretty much anywhere indoors. And when she had to walk through it, she did so briskly, face down, hands shoved into pockets, and he would keep pace easily at her side, laughing and teasing her even as water dripped from his hair, nose and lips. Now, even as most of the street has cleared off into the dry, she hasn't. And she isn't moving, just standing there, staring straight at him. Like he's staring at her.
Of course, she hasn't really changed. It's just because he's there. Even from a few hundred metres away, the piercing blue of his eyes leap out at her. And it's because of him that she doesn't care about the rain and the wind. Because this is the first time she's seen him in months – and it might be the last time she ever sees him. Tomorrow morning Jennifer Sheppherd will be on the first plane to Israel. It's a massive, massive opportunity. Tom Morrow has made it clear that when she gets back, she'll have well and truly earned her jockstrap. But, for all she tries to push it to the back of her mind, there is the very real possibility she will never get back. So from a distance, through the rain, she drinks in everything about him.
His reasons for staring are simpler. Or perhaps he just doesn't analyse himself as much. He's staring at her because she's there.
She wants to turn around and run away, but more than that, she wants to run up to him and throw her arms around him, cancel her transfer to Mossad, take back that stupid letter, take back every step she ever took that carried her away from him. She can't, of course. And she doesn't even try. She just stands there, stupidly looking at him, trying to drink in every detail in case this is the last time she ever sees him. The smart think would be to turn around, but she can't do that. There are a million really bad reasons she can't do that. She's meant to be moving in his directioin (although there are other routes she could take), but she doesn't want to be late (never mind that she's running twenty minutes early), and to turn around would be to admit weakness (despite having made that obvious by gazing at him through the rain). As always, he pulls her toward him through sheer magnetism. As always, she just can't stay away.
He walks forward too – he hasn't decided whether to speak to her. He doesn't want to admit it, but he's not sure he could handle that. He knows Jenny, stubborn Jen, and he knows she's not coming back to him, knows that there are no words he could say now she's made her decision. He wants to try, but he can't face the thought of being rejected by her again.
He loves her, after all.
As they grow closer, Jenny tears her eyes from his, focusing on the street beyond. Not looking at him is torture, she can feel his presence – or maybe that's just her imagination filling in the blanks. Eventually they draw parallel. She hesitates in her step, just for a second. She wants to talk to him – she wants him to talk her out of this. There's a moment where Jenny thinks she feels the back of a warm, callused hand brush against hers.
There's a moment, and then it's gone.
I do love Jibbs. :) I kinda wish I wrote more HAPPY Jibbs, but all my inspiration is for sadness.