Fic Title: Valentine
Author: I Love NASCAR
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Jibbs, Tony/Other
Date: February 14, 2008
Feedback: please
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The only profit I receive from this story is the feedback you provide. All creative rights to the characters belong to DB, not me.
Summary: Two NCIS families strive to have the perfect Valentine's celebration.
Dedications: To Julia and Elflord, whose help and feedback has been greatly appreciated. To the Jenny & Gibbs forum, who have been asking for more Jibbs fluff.
Jennifer Shepherd smelled the orchids she had brought home from work, the flowers Gibbs had given her for years, a change from the traditional roses the other men in her life had given her. The orchids were rare, special, and, when she did receive them, they meant something, from a simple thank you to a way of his showing her that he did care. The fact that he remembered Valentine's Day at all surprised her; she'd expected the opposite. She changed from the suit and heels of her work day to a pair of new dark blue jeans and more comfortable shoes, choosing to leave her silk blouse on but untucked. She checked the card again, smiling to herself as she read the words, and then looked at her watch. Time to go.
Jethro Gibbs would never have confessed to anyone, but he was more than a little nervous. Although he wanted to pretend it was a night like any other, it was Valentine's Day, the first he'd shared with a woman since Shannon's death, something that had contributed to his divorces, but something that he was satisfied with...until Jenny. Still, he was nervous and found himself trying to calm his nerves by working on his fifth, and hopefully final, boat.
"Jethro?" Jenny let herself in, as she often did, and walked through the house, going down the stairs to the basement. "Jethro?"
Like a child caught doing something it shouldn't, he backed away, putting the tool down. "Jen."
She smiled, always liking this part of him, being hands-on, something that men generally weren't in her world. "Hey." She approached him with a smile, touching his cheek. "Sawdust."
He loved the way her eyes lit up when she smiled and leaned down, kissing her lips gently, something he had longed to do all day. "You look great."
"So do you." He had changed into jeans and a t-shirt to work on the boat, having forgotten to leave time to change, and was covered with dirt and sawdust, but looked completely irresistable.
He looked down at his clothes sheepishly. "I forgot to change."
"I don't want you to." It was the truth, in more ways than one. "Do you still have that extra shirt?"
He moved away from her, finding the workshirt he kept downstairs, and helped her put it on, finding it odd to be buttoning her shirt instead of unbuttoning it. He took her hands, in comfortable silence, and stood behind her as they worked on the wood together.
Hours passed without even noticing. It was almost ten by the time they remembered they hadn't eaten anything since lunch. He didn't want to break away from her, loving the contact with her, the quiet peace they found alone together, but knew he should.
"Why don't you get cleaned up? I'll put everything away."
She wanted to tell him she'd wait, she wanted him to come with her, but she nodded. "Okay." She kissed him on the cheek and went upstairs.
When he joined her, she was already out of the shower, dressed in some clothes she kept for the weekends. She dried her hair with a towel, hearing the water running from his shower, her mind taking her to places she never got tired of, causing her to smile again at the memories. She looked at the lip gloss and blush that she kept in her purse, not sure if she should put them on again or not, until she felt Gibbs' arms around her waist.
"You don't need them." He kissed her neck. "You always were prettier just the way you are."
She turned around, running her hand on his cheek, kissing him gently. Despite the times when she felt every one of her forty-five years and even thought she looked them, something about Gibbs always made her feel like she was a decade younger, back when there was no one but the two of them, when they had the freedom to do or say whatever they wanted, before bodyguards and schedules, responsibility and all-too-well known secrets.
"We should eat." He spoke again, breaking the spell.
She nodded, knowing he was right. They had work the next morning and it had been eleven hours since she'd had anything to eat. It was impossible to stay in the bubble all the time; she realized how lucky she was to have that perfect place as much as she did. "Pancakes?"
"Sounds good." They walked downstairs together, Jenny getting the ingredients out while he looked for the mixer.
"Flour, milk, eggs, sugar, and butter," she repeated as if she was completing a checklist, which mentally she was. "By the way, you're almost out of milk. We can get some this weekend."
He nodded, making a mental note. More and more, the weekends they didn't have to work were spent living together, usually his place, doing ordinary couple things like cooking, shopping, and working around the house, sharing their lives, like they once had on a regular, day by day, basis.
As she mixed the eggs, flour, and sugar, he got out the coffee, starting a fresh pot, and then used the microwave to melt the butter, adding it as she added the milk. She got a teaspoon worth of batter, letting him taste it, laughing when he moved his head and got some on his cheek.
"Funny, is it?" He teased her, letting her taste as well, kissing her so that he could taste the flavors on her lips.
"We'll never get this done," she whispered against his lips, breaking the kiss, but kissing his cheek to get the batter off before putting the mixture in the frying pan, watching as it started to thicken.
He watched how tired she seemed to be and, after they were finished cooking, said, "Go lay down. I'll bring a tray."
"You're sure?" She looked doubtful for a second, studying him.
He kissed her forehead. "Go." He watched her walk away before smiling, doing the basic cleanup, putting two mugs of coffee and a plate of the pancakes with powdered sugar on a tray, with silverware, carrying them to the bedroom.
He tried hard not to look at her bare legs above the quilts, knowing if he did, food would be the last thing on his mind. They fed each other, laughing, talking from time to time, enjoying their time together, cherishing it more than they once had. As Jenny thought about all they'd been through, how many times they'd nearly lost each other, she couldn't believe how careless, cavalier, they'd been, taking for granted that the other would always be there.
When they were finished, she took the tray back to the kitchen, rinsing everything off to make the job easier for the morning, making sure they'd turned the coffeepot and the stove off, then returning to the bedroom, stopping to smile. Although many women might think it was the worst sin in the world, she found it amusing to see Jethro asleep, looking vulnerable and sweet. She lay beside him, kissing his cheek, her head on his chest, finally saying what she'd longed to for years, "I love you".