A/N: Written as a Hangman prize on NFA. This is a oneshot featuring Jenny and Gibbs. It is just a little piece of what could possibly happen. Jen's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned NCIS, real or fictional, in any way, shape or form. I am not a rich person...QED.

In His Eyes...

Jenny sighed at Gibbs' presence in front of her. He was raging about some important thing, but she wasn't really paying much attention. It all boiled down to the same thing. She, the director of NCIS, was doing something very wrong and only Gibbs had the right answer. She had finally stopped being annoyed at Cynthia for not preventing his unannounced visits. Jenny knew better than anyone that trying to stop Gibbs was useless. He always had done things his own way...from the first day they'd met. Generally, it was an asset, that unpredictability, because it meant that he was going to solve the mystery no matter what it took. He was wholly devoted to his work...which was why he'd never been fired for his...lack of subtlety, otherwise known as rudeness or insultingly derogatory manner. Still, at times like this, Jenny wished that she could just tell him to shut up and then throw him out of her office...physically if necessary.

Oh, he's taking a breath. Maybe I can... "Jethro, I understand what you're saying, but..."

"You don't understand..." Gibbs started talking again, still angry.

Jenny sighed once more and pretended to listen. It was usually best just to let him wind down. The view from her desk wasn't all bad. His eyes glittered when he was annoyed. In spite of the fact that he was a few years older than she, there was an appeal that still occasionally caught her unawares. It was his intensity, she decided, the same intensity that drove her crazy. When he looked her in the eyes, she remembered everything, good and bad, that they had between them and no matter how hard she tried to keep it professional and above-board, Jenny sometimes found herself thinking some very unprofessional thoughts about her subordinate.

"Jethro! Please, let me..."

Nope, too late again, Jenny thought as Gibbs refused to let her speak again. For what must have been the millionth time, she wished that Paris has never happened...well, no, not if she was honest with herself. She wished, maddeningly, that she could have had it both ways in Paris. She wished that Gibbs would look at her with that same gaze he had turned on her once before...it was that darned intensity again. She had always known that she couldn't have all of him. No one could, but she had been more or less content with what she had been able to secure...more or less. It was because of his eyes, cold as ice or warm as the Caribbean, his blue eyes conveyed emotion she wished she could...not control exactly, but perhaps influence. She wished that they would look on her with something other than disdain or manipulative cunning.

Never leave a man behind, Jenny thought regretfully. That code Gibbs lived by. She had thought that she lived by it as well until Paris, when she found that her code had a caveat, an unless that Gibbs could not or would not understand. It was the politics that he so despised, and as she had embraced it, he also despised its presence in her. What would he say if he knew all the times I've gone to bat for him since that day? she wondered, knowing that she'd never tell him. If Gibbs ever looked at her the way she wanted him to, it would not be out of a misplaced sense of obligation. And yet...

"There's more to it than that, Jethro, as you..." Cut off again, she rolled her eyes and returned to her thoughts. There had been moments when his eyes had softened as they regarded her. It was nowhere near the loving gaze she had once elicited, but they occasionally lost that cool consideration and looked on her almost as a friend. Friendship wasn't what she dreamed of, not even close. She wanted so much more, but that was only in an ideal world that didn't exist, that couldn't ever exist. They would both have to change too much for that to happen, but sometimes, when she was alone in her home or when she sat in her office looking out on the Yard, she wondered if all she had done to get here was worth the high price she had paid so many years ago.

"Jethro, if you think I'm going to..."

"I don't think, Director, I know that..."

Why? she thought dismally. Why can't we have something like we had before? It doesn't have to be the same. It can't be the same, but it could be...better than it was. If only I had the guts to say it, to say that I want a part of him again. But all Jenny ever seemed to be able to do was fall back on innuendo, veiled meanings that could go either way. Gibbs always did the same. What could she do?

"Jen?"

Surprised, Jenny blinked and saw Gibbs, looking at her with confusion. No softening, just confusion.

"What, Jethro?"

"What do you think?"

Unexpectedly, Jenny smiled. If he only knew...

He smiled back and finally...finally his eyes softened. She wanted to encourage that softening, but business had to come first. Work before pleasure...that was the code that ruled her life.

"I agree, Jethro. You're right. You have my permission to proceed. If you need some extra weight on the warrant, I'll call the judge myself."

Gibbs actually looked surprised. She wondered if her private thoughts had been plastered all over her face. Sadly, she watched as the softening disappeared and he refocused on the case. The opportunity had passed her by...again. Jenny stood and faced the window to hide the pain she felt.

She heard Gibbs turn and walk to the door. Suddenly, before she even knew she was going to speak, the word slipped out and it was not spoken professionally. "Jethro..."

She didn't turn around, ashamed of both her cowardice and the words she could no longer hold back. "...do you think you could ever forget what happened in Paris?"

The ensuing silence almost forced her to turn around and face him, but if he was going to reject her or deride her question, she knew she wouldn't be able to keep her countenance. The window, the Yard, they were benign views that would neither help nor harm her.

Then, he was behind her, right behind her and Jenny didn't know how he'd managed to move so silently when every part of her was straining to feel him. His breath was warm on the back of her neck as he spoke, very softly, "Have you forgotten Paris, Jen?"

"No."

Then, Gibbs touched her shoulders and gently turned her around to face him. She thought about fighting it but decided that she could hold a composed expression for as long as it took to hear Gibbs' answer to her unspoken plea. For the first time since she had taken up her post as Director, her eyes were downcast. She didn't want to look in his eyes and see the condemnation that was always there.

"Jen..." There was something in his voice that had been missing before, something...oh, dare she even hope...strangely familiar. She watched as his hand moved beneath her chin and forced her to look into his eyes.

Tears sprang into her own and hovered, unshed, as she searched for a coming storm. His eyes were clear...as clear as a bright spring day.

"It can't be like it was," he said softly.

"I know. It doesn't have to be," she replied in a whisper.

There it was, only for an instant, but Jenny caught it: the tenderness she'd seen in his eyes before. Then, he leaned down and kissed her. It was brief, but she felt her knees go weak and her eyes closed. Then, he was gone.

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The rest of the past in a haze. Jenny thought only of the kiss...and of the fact that Gibbs had not answered her, not directly. As night fell and the employees left NCIS, Jenny stood at her window, looking out on the Yard, contemplating her life. Then, she heard her door open. She almost turned, but she couldn't. Then, in a repeat of that afternoon, Gibbs was right behind her, his arms moving slowly around her waist. She leaned back against him, relishing the feeling of security he gave her, at the same time fearing his ultimate rejection. She sighed deeply and her breath caught as he kissed her neck.

"It won't be like it was," he warned.

"Good," she replied. Jenny turned around finally and looked him in the eye. "I don't want it to be."

His smile was enigmatic, but his eyes were dancing. Then, she stepped forward, into his embrace. As their lips met, Jenny wondered how long this could last...as long as I can make it.

"Don't leave," she said.

"I won't."

For now, they were together, as Jenny wanted.

FINIS