With palms on her desk, blue eyes staring down green, he took in her silence at his assertion he had no "need-to-know" when it came to her personal feelings. Later, he had watched her bubble over with rage in Abby's lab and then stalk away from the cargo container after the failed sting operation. That short red hair really did look like flames when she was this angry.
She was driving him crazy with her stubborn independence, though he knew she would—and did—say the same when it came to his own actions on many fronts. If she was going to continue to use his team in her relentless pursuit of The Frog, he was damn well going to get to the bottom of her "beef," as Tobias put it.
He also didn't want to admit it, but seeing that look in her eyes, that ferocity, had reminded him yet again of why he had fallen for her in the first place. While on the outside she was still her typical hellcat-in-heels self, Jethro knew the toll this personal investment in a case could take. Even though she had shut him down in her office earlier, he needed to know she was okay.
Jenny could feel his stare as she walked away from the container. Gibbs had been watching her like a hawk, and as she sat fuming in her study that night she knew he would be banging on her front door eventually. Smiling briefly, she thought of him baiting her the night before by picking up the bridal magazine while they waited for Kourt to show up in the limo. She could not deny that she did feel more in control when he was at her side, backing her up.
But at her side he too had been outsmarted, and the reason—the man—was gnawing at her. Benoit would not get away; she would not allow it.
She decided the best course of action to round out this terrible day would be to drink. The warmth of the bourbon settled in her stomach as she stared at the picture of her father on her desk.
After several generously filled tumblers, she heard Gibbs' characteristic rapping on her front door. She walked to the door, prepared for a further interrogation by her former partner.
She opened the door and stood aside silently, tossing her head to indicate he should come in.
Smelling the bourbon on her as he passed, he commented "Good thing it's Friday. Going to work with the hangover you're sure to have tomorrow would be hell."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Just spit out whatever new warning you have for me and let me get back to—"
"Your bourbon?" he interrupted.
"What do you care?" She turned to walk down the hallway to her study, knowing he would follow. "Come on, Jethro. Give it all to me again. I'm going too hard at this, going to lose my job?"
"I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
His answer stopped her in her tracks. She turned in the dark hallway and faced him.
"What do you care?" she spat at him a second time. The bourbon had definitely gotten the best of her.
He took a step closer. "I care, Jen." Looking into his steady eyes, feeling his solid form so close to her, she almost broke.
She glanced down. "Look, I know you want more details next time, before I drag your team into backing me up in a wild goose chase—"
He interrupted her again, wrapping a hand around her bicep and squeezing. "Dammit Jen! That isn't what I came for. I came for you."
His touch startled her into sobriety and her eyes shot back to his.
He came for her.
He continued. "If I'm going to back you up like you know I will, you have got to tell me what is between you and the Frog. Maybe not tonight, but sometime soon."
He squeezed her arm again. "You know we can get him."
His use of the pronoun "we" did break her. But not in the way either of them expected.
A moment of clarity seized her; even after today, even after the events of their past, Jethro was still standing in front of her right now declaring his loyalty.
After that thought, she didn't hesitate. Her hand flew to his neck and she pulled his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss. He responded immediately, his hands running along her back and into her hair. They drank each other in, both surprised by how right it felt to be doing this again, so many years later.
But his judgment crept back when she worked his coat off this shoulders and began pulling his shirt out of his pants. He brought his hands down to hers, stilling them. They broke the kiss, breathing heavily.
Jethro leaned his forehead against hers for a moment and then pulled back with a small laugh.
"Jen, I think you know this also isn't what I came for. I don't want you to wake up tomorrow and regret me along with the bourbon you drank tonight."
She perceived unasked questions hanging between them: was this only for tonight? A sole encounter and then back to distance-as-usual tomorrow?
She knew her answer. She looked in his dark eyes and said, "I'm not going to regret it. This may have happened fast tonight, but I think it's been a long time coming. I know we have a lot to talk about—"
For the third time that night, he interrupted her.
He crushed his body to hers, tongue pressing into her mouth. Desperate to feel his skin, she tugged the rest of his shirt out of his waistband and pulled back to drag it up his body. He immediately reached for the hem of her sweater and jerked it up and over her head in one smooth motion.
She made to reach for his belt buckle, but he grabbed her hands again. She pressed her forehead to his bare chest and heaved an exasperated sigh. "God Jethro, do you seriously want to talk more now?"
He turned her face up to his with a hand on her neck. "And you called me impatient earlier, Jen? We aren't doing this in the hallway, come on."
Laughing as he pulled her to the stairs, she hooked her fingers into his rear pants pocket as she climbed.
When she awoke the next morning, she rolled over to find warm blue eyes regarding her. The pads of his fingers stroking her face, he pressed a soft, slow kiss to her mouth. Jenny was momentarily overwhelmed thinking about what he said to her last night. Pressing her nose into his warm neck, she spoke against his skin.
"Thanks again for having my back, Jethro."
"Always, Jen."