Because Paris Never Ended, a ncis fanfic

Title: Because Paris Never Ended

Rating: T

Genre: Romance/Maybe slight Angst but I doubt it

Spoilers: Basic spoilers through current episodes. Nothing with major plot reveals or anything.

Pairing: Jibbs (Jen/Jethro for those of you out of the loop)

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS and/or any of their affiliates. I wish I did though. I just borrow their characters for my own enjoyment, and hopefully yours.

Author's Note: Well, I got the hint from the reviews on my other story that I should continue with the 'forgotten memories' style of stories, so here's another one. I'll probably be doing a few more like this so keep checking back. Remember, reviews keep me writing guys. Share the Jibbs-y love! Also, use of the song "Jenny Says" by Cowboy Mouth.

A Hotel Suite in Paris, France, August, 1996 –

The water from the shower head seemed to lull the young woman's body into relaxing. Her red hair lay stuck against her skin and looked a dark brown color. She let out a contented sigh, closing her eyes as she stood beneath the steady water flow. After a stressful day of undercover work, a nice hot shower always soothed her nerves.

For the graying man in the bedroom of the hotel suite, it was bourbon that he used to calm his nerves. The strong alcohol warmed and stung his throat on its way down as he slunk back against the pillows on the bed. He turned on the news, refilling his small glass to toast the fact that they had caught the guy. They. That reminded him just how long the red-head was taking in the shower. He set the crystal glass down on the nightstand and stood, padding barefoot into the bathroom.

She rinsed her hair as she sang to the music that was stuck in her head. As the water trailed down her body, she moved slightly as she sang:

I've got no reason for the things I fear
The things that plague me when I see and hear
A dime's a nickel and a nickel's none
I throw myself into the Sunday sun
That summer Sunday when you went insane
You said you're going, but instead I came
I'm throwing oranges in an apple cart
The ties that bind are tearing me apart

Jenny says turn off the radio
Jenny says turn off the light
Jenny says turn off the video
You beat yourself up to bring yourself down
Let it go, let it go, let it go
Let it go, let it go, let it go
When the world keeps coming down on me
I let it go

I've got no reason for the things I say
She turned toward me then she turned away
There's lots of voices in a modern world
They take their toll upon a modern girl
I've got no reason for the things I fear
The things that plague me when I see and hear
I press my finger on an itchy trigger
What once was small right now is so much bigger

I've got no reason for the things I do
The dealer deals and then the deal is screwed
You throw your cards up on the playing table
My name is Cain and I am now unable
I've got no reason for the things I fear
The things that plague me when I see and hear
A dime's a nickel, a nickel's none
I throw myself into the Sunday sun

Jenny says turn off the radio
Jenny says turn off the light
Jenny says turn off the video
You beat yourself up 'cause you love it
Let it go, let it go, let it go
Let it go, let it go, let it go
When the world keeps coming down on me
I let it go
Let it go, let it go, let it go
Let it go, let it go, let it go
When the world keeps coming down on me
I let it go
I let it go, let it go, let it go
I let it go, let it go, let it go
I let it go, let it go, let it go

Unknown to Jen, Jethro had undressed and snuck in the shower behind her. To him, it was truly an amazing sight. The young redhead was dancing to the music in her head, eyes closed, as the water ran in streams down her lightly tanned skin. Finally getting enough of the show, he pulled her body firmly against his. He smirked at her gasp as he spoke, "Jethro says Jenny should stop singing long enough to finish washing her hair…"

She laughed softly, leaning back against him, "I should have known you were here. I thought I smelled the bourbon."

He rested his hands on her hips, kissing the top of her head, "Keep it up and you'll get to taste the bourbon."

Turning to face him, she playfully folded her arms, "Who says I want to?"

He pinned her against the wall. She gasped as she felt her back hit the cold tile, the warm water covering both of them now as he spoke, "I can tell…"

"Oh, but Jethro, I believe it is I who can tell you want this…"

To anyone who knew him, it was easy to see the hint of a smirk curling up the edges of his lips. He pressed her further against the tile as he whispered huskily into her ear, "You want this too, don't deny it."

She ducked out from his arms, raising a slight eyebrow to see if he'd accept her challenge, "Maybe I don't want it…"

"Your right eye twitches when you lie, Jennifer…" Her subtle quirks always gave her away, and he noticed every last one of them. From the way her eye twitched when she lied to the way her forehead wrinkled when she was concentrating, he noticed every last detail about her. It was hard for him not to notice. They had been together so much lately that he noticed anything and everything that was going on with her. You could quite possibly call it love, but he wasn't ready to claim it as such just yet. He didn't want her becoming ex-wife number five.

"Jethro…" Her sentence was cut short as his lips pressed firmly to hers, backing her against the wall yet again. She quietly murmured against his lips, but he pretended not to hear her…

NCIS Headquarters Washington D.C., May 2008

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs pretended not to hear as a certain redhead repeatedly called his name.

Director Jennifer Shepard stood impatiently on the upper-floor balcony of NCIS. Her hands clenched into fists around the cool metal railing that surrounded the gray-carpeted upper-level, "Agent Gibbs…" She called as coolly as she possibly could, trying to restrain herself from descending the stairs and choking him.

The other agents in the building knew better than to even breathe out of line when the two were arguing or, in this case, building up to the argument. Slowly, the older gray-haired man lifted his head from his paperwork, "Yes, Director?"

She swallowed the words she was wanting to say, "My office, now." Her tone was harsh and cold as she spun on her heel, slamming her office door shut behind her. The sound seemed to echo through the virtually quiet NCIS building, no one wishing to talk for fear of being killed or tortured by the two hot-tempered individuals.

Jethro slowly stretched before standing from his desk and headed up to the office. Not bothering to knock, he whipped her door open and stepped inside, "You called?"

Jen kept her back to him as she poured two glasses of bourbon from the small cabinet in the corner of her office. She hit the off button on the radio, the classical music no longer filling the void of talking in her office. The light brown alcohol filling the crystal glasses was the only sound in the room, both people waiting for the other to start the conversation. She sipped her glass, handing the other to him. The cool drink burned its way down her throat, but seemed to warm her at the same time. He remembered the drinks they shared in Paris, a slight smirk crossing his gentle lips. She eyed him once, "What seems to be of such amusement this time, Jethro?"

He chuckled to himself, "Memories, Jen…memories. Now what was it you needed me for?"

"You left your unfinished paperwork on my desk…"

Glancing towards the stack of files on the maple-colored desk, he nodded slightly. He sipped the bourbon before speaking, "So I have."

"Are you going to do anything about it?"

"Depends, Jen, what are you expecting me to do?" He raised a challenging eyebrow, knowing this return a question with a question game could last hours between the two of them. It was just their style, too hard-headed to ever back down.

She let out a quiet sigh, turning off her desk lamp, "I suppose nothing at the moment. I'm not in the mood to do it right now, and you never are in the mood for that matter…"

"Watch how you phrase that. I can be in the 'mood' when I need to be."

Chuckling softly, she shook her head, "Of course you could take something as boring as paperwork and turn it into something sexual, Jethro."

He merely smiled, setting his drink on her desk as he shrugged off his suit coat from his shoulders. Covering the one surveillance camera in her office, he returned to her side, "Let it go, Jen…" He took her glass, setting it down beside his.

She smiled softly, turning to face him. There was a silent battle of dominance, their eyes battling with each other to see who'd win the first round of power and control. He pinned her against the desk, smirking as her back arched off the wood.

The files fell off her desk, scattering to the floor. She mumbled, "I just finished the one you were requesting…another undercover op in Paris?"

He chuckled quietly against her lips, "Paris never ended, Jen…Paris never ended."