It was 21:00, the Navy Yard was lit by security lighting and the parking lot was almost empty. She was supposed to have left 4 hours ago but instead she was in her office attempting to do paperwork. She had intended on only staying a couple of hours later than she was supposed to but had gotten so distracted in her own thoughts that she had in fact forgotten the paper work all together and the first file she had opened hours ago was still in front of her.
Her head was resting in her hands, her red hair flowing down the sides of her head and onto the desk. Her back shook occasionally with the force of her crying, tears fell from her emerald eyes and left a salt infused water trail down her soft cheeks.
Her thoughts were solely on the senior agent who was still at his desk, she thought he had left hours ago but hadn't actually checked.
She closed her eyes as another painful tear escaped from her eyes, in her hand was a photo from Paris - both were smiling happily at the top of the Eiffel Tower, a typical tourist shot with the view of the Paris cityscape behind them and the metal caging around them. Up there they were just a couple in love, up there they could be themselves and not just two agents on a mission. He had pulled her into him and handed the camera to a woman nearby, asking her to take their photo. Those bright blue eyes looking into her shining green ones and the sun brightly behind them. It was the perfect moment captured.
Tugging her lip gently into her mouth as she tried to stop her crying, she missed him. She missed being able to wake up beside him. She missed his kisses. She missed walking hand in hand with the man she loved. She missed him. She missed who she was when she was with him. She was happy, carefree and in love. Now? She was a broken hearted woman with a tear stained face and an empty bed.
The door opened with a heavy swing, "Jen", he said straight away, "What is t...". He had intended to ask what was taking her so long but he had frozen, and words had been completely lost on him when his eyes found that of a crying director. More importantly a crying Jen. His Jen.
She brushed away her tears, and failed to hide the emotion from her voice, "What do you want Jethro?" she asked softly. She started to straighten up her desk as though she had actually been doing paperwork rather than bawling her eyes out about the mistakes of the past. About leaving him.
The silver haired, blue eyed agent was stood beside her within seconds and leaning down, "What's wrong?" he asked ignoring her question. Concern drowned his features and made her flashback to the worry that had etched his face when she managed to injure herself in Paris.
Jen shook her head, "Just tired", she said softly.
Jethro raised his eyebrows, "Don't lie Jen, I know you better than that". His voice was not harsh nor annoyed or angry but soft and caring.
The red head sighed, glancing out of the window before back, "Sorry" she muttered, "I probably should get home though". She made a slight movement as though she were going to leave but when Jethro didn't move from his position it made it impossible for her to move either.
The silver haired man shook his head, "Rule 6, Never apologise", he said softly with a smirk as a way to try and lighten the mood. She smiled at his statement, it was involuntary, she hadn't meant to smile at it but simply couldn't help herself. The playful twinkle that was in his bright blue eyes and the curls at the corner of his lips.
"Rule 51", she quoted back to him, "Sometimes you're wrong". There was a sadness in her eyes that had been there ever since she returned to NCIS as the Director. He noticed it and it broke his heart, the sadness hadn't been there in Paris. He had been angry with her decision to leave without telling him but when he had seen that look of anguish and sorrow in her eyes, he simply couldn't bring himself to stay angry any more.
He looked at her with a slight tilt of the head, "Why are you still here Jen?", he asked softly as a hand cupped her cheek.
She forced a smile and waved a hand to the right of her, "Paperwork Jethro", she said softly, "It doesn't do itself you know...".
Jethro stood and took hold of one of the pieces of paper from the desk, "Doesn't look like paperwork to me", he commented holding the photo in his hand.
She couldn't stop the tears this time. She couldn't stop the salty liquid from breaking the dams of her eyelids to cascade down her soft porcelain-like cheeks, the act was over and she couldn't hide it any more. She couldn't pretend she didn't miss him. She couldn't pretend she didn't miss them. She couldn't pretend that her heart was not broken.
He put the scrap of paper down onto the desk, a torn up almost rectangular piece with the ink forming the photo. Wrapping his arms instantly around her smaller frame, he held her close to him and when she gripped his shirt, he simply held her tighter.
"I'm sorry", she mumbled into his shirt as tears fell from her eyes and her body shook from her sobs, "I... I should never have left". She said revealing the true reasoning behind her late stay and the large amount of tears on her face when he had entered the room.
His hand came up to cup her cheek, forcing her to look up at him, their eyes met before he spoke, "Rule 51". That was all he said before he captured her lips with his in a searing, passionate and yet oh so loving kiss. A kiss filled with smile, the salty remnants of tears and promises of the future.