Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters.
Cinnamon
by The Sneezing Panda
Rose petals. The scent of rose petals never failed to follow her around. It was the perfume; only a hint.
Her vibrant red curls smelled of honey and spices. She had used the same shampoo for numerous years. It fit her.
She wouldn't be Jenny without these tell-tale scents.
There was one particular nagging scent, a scent Leroy Jethro Gibbs couldn't quite place. It was frustrating.
He'd been tempted to ask her, but he was stubborn. He'd been so sure he could figure it out himself, he was an investigator, after all. One day, he snapped and gave up. He needed to know.
It was too late. She was gone. Forever.
Jethro stared at the familiar feminine handwriting, the familiar words. Dear Jethro. This time, she wasn't coming back.
Jethro stood in her father's study, in the vacant Georgetown home, awaiting Svetlana.
And suddenly, it hit him. Like a ton of bricks.
Cinnamon. She smelled like cinnamon.