Feb 14 – 8:37am

"Jen, wake up." Jethro whispered in her ear, his fingers trailing a line down her bare hip as she stirred.

"What time is it?" She mumbled, twining her fingers into the back of his neck.

Her head was throbbing. She'd dreamt of gunfire and shouting. Piercing bullets and pain. And judging by the aching across the muscles in her chest, she'd been asleep for longer than usual.

"Does it matter?" He smiled into her skin, set on the task of waking her as quickly as possible. Either that, or he knew she hadn't slept well and wanted to try and kiss away the hurt in a way that only he could.

As Jenny's senses returned, her body complained too, mirroring that of her head. She didn't want to open her eyes. It felt as though she'd cried for hours. She needed to stretch out the knots in her back and her thighs were tense and ached – the one thing she could blame on Jethro and didn't feel quite as bad about.

"I have work to do." She groaned, his lips joining his fingers as he teased her.

"It's a Sunday." He replied simply, smiling once more.

"Why are you in such a happy mood?" Jenny sat up, leaning her back against the headboard.

She couldn't quite believe the sight in front of her. Jethro really couldn't wipe the smile from his face. His eyes creased at the edges, while he took in her dishevelled hair and freckled skin with the one look that literally told her he wanted her. Right now.

"I bought you something." An envelope appeared from behind him, although Jenny had been too busy watching the muscles in his arms and across his back to notice at first. She wanted to kiss him. To trail her fingers along his skin until- "Jen?"

This time, she smiled seductively at him, the blush falling across her cheeks something he didn't see often. Handing over the envelope, he leant forward to kiss her properly. He couldn't put into words the way he felt about her, or explain how different he felt around her. She changed him – for the better. She made him feel again. Alive.

"Paris?" Jenny frowned, as if she didn't trust her own eyes.

Jethro simply shrugged. "You keep saying I need a vacation."

"Paris?!" She practically squealed, launching herself at him. Laughing, Jethro found himself on his back, Jenny straddling his waist. Leaning down to kiss his lips, she bit his bottom lip. "Paris?"

"Yes." He confirmed, running his hands up her thighs, kneading her muscles almost like when he sanded. Firm. Strong. Intense.

Jenny moaned, letting her own hands roam over his bare chest. "How long have we got before we have to leave for the airport?"

"Long enough."

***

7:15pm

Ziva sauntered out of the bathroom, Tony's shirt the only thing she wore.

He openly stared at her legs; the way she moved. Confident. Mysterious. Amazing.

"McGee noticed, didn't he?" She nodded, playing with the first two buttons of the shirt – Tony watching her every move. Stopping so her knees touched his at the foot of the bed, he ran his hands up the back of her legs until they rested on the small of her back. He inhaled the smell of her perfume and let her push his jacket off his shoulders while he kicked off his shoes. "It was kinda hard not too." He mumbled into her stomach, helping her with the rest of the buttons. "You looked amazing."

Ziva stalled, looking down at the man in front of her. He looked vulnerable. Something she wasn't used to with him.

"Are you okay?"

"I meant what I said earlier." He simply replied, as she ran her hands through his hair.

Ziva smiled as he caught her eye. 'I love you'.

"You are wearing more clothes than me." She pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, working on the button of his jeans. Tony kissed her then, the passion and taste so familiar she moaned in his mouth, earning a quiet chuckle in return.

This was how it was supposed to be.

***

8:26pm Washington D.C, 2:26am Paris

Jenny knew Jethro needed coffee. A decent coffee.

The flight had been eventful, that was for sure.

The guy across the aisle from them had been a nervous wreck, claiming the plane would crash into the sea just like Lost every time they hit turbulence. The food had been what Jenny would expect and the 'on-board entertainment' a movie she'd already seen.

Jethro had surprised her though. About halfway into the flight, he'd leant over to whisper in her ear, brushing his lips across her neck while she processed the words that sounded a lot like 'mile-high club'.

Just to see if he meant it, she'd let her hand fall to his thigh as casually as possible, snuggling deeper into his neck as she stroked him over his jeans. Shuffling to try and get comfortable, he'd bit back the urge to growl – something that often went straight to Jenny's core.

"We're on a plane." He grumbled, pulling the blanket from her shoulders onto his lap. Fair enough most of the people around them were asleep but he didn't want a child on the way to the toilet with his mother catching something that would scar them for life. They shouldn't be doing this. She shouldn't be touching him there because- Oh God. "Jen-" He did growl this time. She'd bit his ear just as her hand slipped into his jeans. He was getting the hand-job of his life, on a plane.

"You know, apparently, the fear of getting caught heightens the experience."

"So does the fact that you're-" Jethro closed his eyes, his head falling back against the seat.

"Do you want me to stop?" She whispered, her fingers stroking the length of him, rubbing her thumb over the tip. She watched as he bit his lip, his hips rising of the seat on reflex. She half-expected him to drag her into the nearest rest-room for a wall and a locking door.

She'd never ever done anything like this in a public place before. The way she ached for him to touch her now and the complete look of lust across his face, she decided it was worth the risk.

As luck would have it, just as Jenny knew Jethro couldn't take anymore, the turbulence started again. The juddering of the plane coupled with her rougher grip gave Jethro all the right sensations that sent him over the edge.

Groaning into her neck to muffle the sound, he softly kissed her.

"Welcome to the mile-high club." She whispered, laughing as he caught his breath.

Having landed safely in Paris, Jethro practically ran to the nearest Starbucks, returning in time to collect their bags. Jenny watched him in the line, unable to keep the lovestruck look from her face. She felt like a teenager. He made her feel like a teenager – resorting to stolen kisses and fumbling in the most inappropriate of places. Like planes. And taxis. (That one, definitely Jethro's fault.)

Collapsing onto the bed as he set down their bags, she giggled. Actually giggled. Paris. Again. On vacation. It didn't get any better.

Jethro lay next to her, brushing his hand against hers between them as if he could read her thoughts.

Jumping up, she found her wash bag from her suitcase and kicked off her heels – marvelling in the feel of the plush carpet between her toes.

"You can't go to sleep yet." He told her, kicking off his own shoes.

"I never said anything about sleeping." She lowered her voice seductively, watching Jethro slowly sit up to wait for her, as she decided that now would be the perfect time for the present she'd bought for him for Valentine's day.

There were several ways of fighting jet-lag that she still needed to teach him...