For Ellie, who suggested naughtiness in a public place.


She flirts with almost everyone she meets. She's always done it. She throws her head back when she laughs, a delicate hand on the base of her throat, a gentle touch of the arm, leaning in a little too close to listen, its second nature, it calms some people and excites others, gets her in to trouble as well as getting her what she wants. Sometimes he thinks that she doesn't even realize she's doing it, she is just a naturally tactile person.

It's always both annoyed and amused him, but now, now he hates it. He hates the way she smiles at the Diplomats, Politicians and Generals, the doormen, policemen and Agency Heads and anyone and everyone. He knows it doesn't mean a damned thing, but he still can't help grinding his teeth every time, or help the way his fingers curl into tight fists. He also hates the way that when she isn't flirting, she is angry and her eyes flash dangerously and they can almost see the highly sexually charged person underneath the Agency Head mask.

He is pretty sure he is going to be in need of some major dental work soon though, or maybe a new set of hands from the way his fingernails dig into his palms, because one particular Politician hasn't taken his eyes of her since they arrived at the Marine Birthday Ball, and that alone is bad enough, but she has been seriously turning on the charm offensive. He is almost at the end of his tether; standing in the sidelines watching over her was not what he had in mind when she asked him to accompany him and it grates him just a little that after all they have been through she didn't want him by her side. He knows that most of the flirting is for him anyway, the fleeting glances and the wicked smile that she flashes his way every now and then tell him that much, and he knows that the fact that he is watching her every move excites her but it's still damn annoying.

When the slimy worm of a Politician hands her another drink, (if Gibbs wasn't so observant he would think Mr Slimy was trying to get her drunk and that it was working but he had seen her tip most of them away). Jen takes the drink and smiles serenely at him, their hands touching for just a second, something inside him snaps and he strides across the Ballroom.

He leans in, close enough to feel the shiver that she can't quite stop when his hand encircles her arm and his breath tickles her ear.

"We have a situation Director, you're needed." He squeezes her arm slightly too hard and tugs. She excuses herself with a smile and a brief touch and walks after him. He just catches her wicked mouth curling into a wry smile as he leads them out of the ballroom, towards the entrance hall and despite his anger there's that still surreal squirming in his abdomen of lust that makes his stomach clench and his hands sweat. The heady combination of anger, lust and, dare he say it, jealousy ignite his blood and it almost makes him want to go back out there and punch the slimy bastard.

"So…" She begins, her hands on her hips, accentuating her slim figure, making him all the more agitated and he pulls her towards the bathrooms and pushes her through a door, not pausing to look which one, and locks the door behind him, praying that no one is in there.

"What's the situation?" She lifts an eyebrow knowingly, her hands still on her hips. He pulls her face towards him and kisses her senseless, like he needs to remind her who she belongs to, before she can ask anymore questions. He pulls her as close as she can get and she moans into his mouth, only pulling away to check whether the door is properly locked.

His pants hanging off one leg, his shoes still unbelievably on, her dress is bunched halfway up her waist and hanging off one shoulder and he honestly has no idea how they have ended up half naked. Her legs are wrapped round his waist and he prays he can hold them both up, because her hands running through his hair and gripping at the back of his neck is turning him on slightly too much.

She licks his neck, urging him on and he braces one hand against the door by her head, locks his knees and slides into her, as deep as he can. He kisses her again, nibbling at her lips, moving his hand to her neck, feeling her elevated pulse, lightly pressing his thumb into the soft and sensitive skin under her chin, forcing her head to tip back a little, as he sucks on her skin, knowing that she is going to be wearing his marks soon enough.

His thigh muscles are screaming. He's thrusting into her and he wonders if someone is going to come to see what's causing the commotion because the door of the bathroom is rattling like it isn't going to last. Her breathing is labored, her eyes are wild; and one look in them and he shudders, his whole body shuddering against hers and he's falling over the edge, pulling her with him. Her head lolls back against the door and he kisses her neck. Eventually, she unwraps her legs from around his waist and he relinquishes his hold on her thighs, and she manages to stand.

"I'm not complaining, because…wow, but what brought that on?"

He can't believe that he could still feel arousal after that, but her voice is hoarse and hardly above a whisper, and he blames that for the reason he, instead of making something up, blurts out the first thing that comes to mind which happens to be the truth.

"I hate you flirting."

"So…this "situation" was just an excuse to stake your claim on me?" She laughs and he really could strangle her sometimes. "Congratulations, I'm yours."

He crosses his arms in front of him and scowls at her. "Come on Jethro, lighten up. It's not like I was going to sleep with him...I only fit with you." She bites her bottom lip to prevent the laughter escaping as she cups his face in her hand. He just takes a breath and tells himself to be reasonable.

"Can we go now?" Ok, maybe reasonable was the wrong word, possibly childish was better.

"If we don't, you're just gonna sulk, so yes, we will go."

He follows her out of the bathroom back into the Ballroom to say her goodbyes. He spots Mr Slimy looking their way, and he sees the guys eyes widen. Gibbs knows what he's seeing. When she has been well looked after, it is the one of the few times her mask slips and her eyes betray what she's feeling, and even though it'll be some time before they appear properly she's certainly wearing Gibbs's marks. He waits until the guy looks from her to him, then he casually rests his hand on the small of her back guiding her through the ballroom, causing her to shiver slightly, like she always does when he touches her. He looks at the Politician, and stares his very best stare, the one reserved for the most heinous criminals. The one that says 'Push me, you die.'

He has to fight the urge to say to him, "She may have been talking to you all night, but I'm going home with her." But the scowl on the man's face is more than enough to make his night.


V!

xox