AUTHOR'S NOTE - So, this was inspired by a gifset made by Lady Linny on Tumblr some weeks back (linny90120 on here). It's also the longest story I've written in forever. So yeah. It's probably set somewhere near the beginning of the season three, and Jenny's hair is still long. Oh and yeah, title doesn't really make much sense. :)

DEDICATED - to Alexa, who made me do it. And also Marzia, who is having a bad day today.

ENJOY!

TWO IS COMPANY, BUT THREE IS MORE FUN

It was a little after 2000 when Anthony DiNozzo finally arrived to the bullpen following a three-day conference in Boston. He knew Gibbs was just preparing him for the duties of a supervisory agent he would, no doubt, one day have, but he hated conferences just as much as the older man. They were long, boring and utterly unnecessary. There was only one set of rules team Gibbs played by, and they were most definitely not taught on any official gathering of the alphabet soup.

The bullpen was completely deserted and Tony himself had no intention of sticking around once he handed in the report he typed during the flight home. All he could think about was a nice bottle of beer, his own bed, and maybe a movie marathon with Abby over the upcoming weekend. Lost in thought, he reached for the door of the Director's office and opened it without knocking.

He stopped short as soon as his eyes landed on the only occupant of the room – Director Jenny Shepard, who was sitting on the edge of her desk, strapping on her right shoe, her back completely exposed by the unzipped black dress.

"Aaah…sorry," – Tony managed to mumble, unable to take his eyes off the redhead.

Jenny looked up from her shoe, smirking at the younger agent.

"Relax, you missed the best part."

It was really amusing, watching DiNozzo almost choke on his own tongue.

"I got a hot date waiting," – she said matter-of-factly, getting up from the desk and turning her back to the agent, shoe buckled firmly around her ankle. "Zip me up."

Moving her long red curls over her right shoulder, Jenny was a tad disappointed she couldn't see DiNozzo's face any more.

Tony gaped for another few seconds, swallowing hard around his tongue, his mouth suddenly too dry.

"Lucky guy," he commented as he slowly approached Jenny's desk to leave the folder with the report on the conference, his eyes never leaving Jenny's exposed back.

His eyes caught the sight of something black beneath the very bottom of the zipper as he moved closer to Jenny. Lacy underwear, he thought with a smirk, but the next few steps closer proved him wrong and he nearly tripped over his own feet.

A tattoo! The Director had a tattoo on the small of her back!

He stopped and stared, unable to comprehend his own thoughts as he tried to figure out what the tattoo was. He could only see the top part of what looked like an abstract motive.

"Stop drooling, DiNozzo," – the Director chastised amusedly, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Sorry, Director," – Tony apologised, not sounding apologetic in the least, his eyes still wide as he finally reached for the zipper and pulled it up.

Jenny turned around slowly and faced her agent, smirking at the expression on his face.

"He's going to rip that dress right off," – Tony commented, the look in his eyes suggesting his mind wasn't far from imagining doing it himself.

"I know," – Jenny answered, wondering if DiNozzo was aware what he just said about his boss. To the said boss's boss.

There was no need to specify who he was.

Thought it was never either confirmed or denied, the blossoming relationship between the Agency's Director and its most notorious agent was the worst kept secret. Everyone could see the furtive smiles and looks shared between them, but no one dared to come right out and ask about it. And even the ones that did – Abby – got only mystical smirks in lieu of an answer.

"How was Boston?" – Jenny asked as she glanced through DiNozzo's report and signed at the bottom of the last page.

"Eh," – Tony said, rolling his eyes slightly. "Unnecessary."

The Director smirked as she put the report in the drawer and looked pointedly at the agent and then at her door.

Tony stared at her for a few more seconds, as if dazed, and then turned to leave, mumbling his goodbye as he went.

"Oh, and DiNozzo," – Jenny called just before he closed the door behind him. "Next time, knock."

Tony's eyes widened at the implication and he quickly pulled the door all the way.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs poured himself his third jar of bourbon while he cleaned up the counter in his basement. It was nearing 2100 and he was waiting for his lover to make her way to his house. They were supposed to have a 'date', but if the past was anything to go by, the dinner would get cold and they would get hot. Very hot.

It was as if they were making up for the years they wasted. Then again, they never could keep their hands of each other; back in Europe it really was a miracle no one caught them red-handed.

Speaking of –

Jenny Shepard made her way down the basement stairs, her silver strappy sandals clicking on the wood, her light-coloured coat hiding the dress from Gibbs's view, but exposing her long legs.

"Hubba, hubba," – he commented as his eyes took her in, already imagining how good her clothes will look on his bedroom floor. Or basement, if they don't make it that far.

Jenny smirked, stopping in front of Gibbs and pulling him into a slow kiss.

"Hi," – she murmured when she pulled back, her hands slipping under both of his T-shirts, fingers gently skimming the warm skin she found there.

"Mhm," – Gibbs hummed distractedly as he nuzzled her neck, breathing deeply, his hands already pushing her coat out of the way.

The cloth fell on the ground with a thud and he stepped back to observe for a moment or two, nodding his head appreciatively at the way the black dress hugged her in all the right places, before moving back in to kiss her.

"Tony's back from his trip," – Jenny whispered offhandedly after a few moments as her lips skimmed Gibbs's neck.

He frowned of her use of his agent's first name.

"You really wanna talk about DiNozzo now?"

He could feel her smile against his skin.

"Well, you know," – she drawled teasingly. "Two hot man, together…"

He pushed her back, bewildered. She out-right chuckled, throwing her head back as she collided with the rib of the boat.

"Any girl who tells you that doesn't get her going is lying."

And then she kissed him again, rubbing her hips against his. He pushed her back again, unable to just let her remark slide.

"You think DiNozzo's hot?"

Jenny outright laughed at that. She pulled Gibbs's short-sleeved T-shirt off, throwing it carelessly behind her, and attempted to pull Gibbs's lips back to hers. He, however, resisted, still frowning at her.

"Anthony DiNozzo is a good-looking guy, Jethro," – she said, rolling her eyes. "He's smart, he's funny and he's packing a badge and a gun. What girl doesn't go week in the knees for that?"

Gibbs growled deep in his throat, pushing Jenny harder against the rib of the boat. She chuckled, running her fingers up his arms, across shoulders and neck and through his hair.

"That being said," – she purred, pulling his head down, her lips right next to his ear. "I prefer my men older, more experienced. More assertive."

"I'll show you assertive," – Gibbs growled again, pulling her dress up over her hips and lifting her up.

It was such a well-practiced move between them, almost as if choreographed, that Jenny didn't even gasp in surprise any more. She simply reached for his remaining T-shit, pulling it over his head and dropping it on the floor, running her hands over his back. He slowly unzipped her dress, humming in pleasure when he didn't encounter the back strap of her bra. One less obstacle to worry about.

Apparently, they weren't making it to the bedroom. Not until later, at least.

The dress was soon tugged somewhat forcefully over Jenny's head, further tangling her curls and making her frown disapprovingly when the cloth was recklessly thrown on the floor. The frown was soon kissed away, however, and then turned into a moan as one of Gibbs's hands reached to move her thong aside and touch her, finding her already substantially wet.

"You do like your men assertive," – he muttered, amused, his lips behind her ear, his other hand holding her firmly against the boat.

"I like you assertive," – Jenny countered, reaching for his button and zipper, undoing them deftly.

Gibbs made an approving noise that turned into a loud groan as Jenny gripped him, finding him fully hard.

"You like your women assertive, too?" – She teased, running her hand over him repeatedly.

"I like you assertive," – he managed through the gritted teeth, dropping his head to her shoulder and moving his hand to tangle in her hair. "Jenny, stop."

She smirked against his neck, adjusting herself so she could take him all the way in.

"God," – he gasped, hand tightening in her hair, making her moan in return.

Her head dropped back as she panted, letting them both adjust to the sudden intrusion. Soon enough, though, he moved his head back, looking at her for a few moments before kissing her forcefully as he started moving in and out of her.

There was no finesse about it; there never was when it happened in the basement. Basement meant it was fast and frantic, more often than not aggressive, against the boat or on the counter.

They were both panting loudly and Gibbs could feel his arms shaking with the effort of holding Jenny up with one hand while the other was still in her hair and attempting to keep some semblance of rhythm necessary to get them both off.

Soon enough, Jenny's nails were prickling the skin of his shoulders and his name kept tumbling from her lips, only urging him on. When she finally let go, she tightened around him unbearably and it was all he could do to thrust a few more times before he followed her over the edge.

After several long minutes of panting and exchanging soft kisses, Gibbs untangled his fingers from Jenny's red locks and set her back down on the ground.

"That was nice," – she commented cheekily, holding onto his shoulders because her legs were still shaking slightly and the muscles of her thighs kept twitching unexpectedly, making her swallow a moan.

"Nice?" – Gibbs glared at her.

She laughed as she stepped back, walking over to where her dress landed on the floor, picking it up and folding it neatly.

"Why do I even bother getting dressed up for you when all you do is undress me," – she said more to herself than to him, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

"You love it," – Gibbs commented as he pulled his jeans up and zipped them, not bothering with the button.

"I don't know, Jethro," – Jenny mused, knowing full well she was playing with fire. "I bet DiNozzo would appreciate my effort to dress up for him. He would probably comment on how good I looked in that dress. In fact, he did say something about ripping it off of me."

Gibbs growled deep in his throat, already thinking up the ways to make his senior field agent suffer come Monday. Picking up his discarded T-shirt, he twisted it and slapped Jenny's behind as he approached her from the back. She gasped, whirling around and poking his chest with her finger.

"DiNozzo would definitely not do that!"

"DiNozzo also wouldn't fuck you so good your legs are still shaking," – he deadpanned before walking around the skeleton of the boat to get this other T-shirt.

Jenny glared at his back but knowing he was probably right, she turned around and went for the stairs, dress still held limply in her hand.

He caught up with her quickly, staring at her tattoo as she ascended the stairs. Once she reached the kitchen, he pulled her back into him and hugged her close, his mouth next to her ear.

"You always look good, no matter what you wear," – he whispered hotly. "I thought my actions were enough to let you know that."

"They are," – Jenny said as she turned around in his arms. "But a girl likes to hear it every now and then."

"You looked amazing in that dress," – Gibbs said, the far-off look in his eyes suggesting just how amazing.

"I know," – she smiled, kissing his lips before extracting herself from his arms and heading for the bedroom, her hips swinging more than strictly necessary.

"Don't kill DiNozzo," – she tossed over her back and he could hear laughter in her voice.

He didn't dignify her remark with a response, but made a mental note to check when the next government conference was. At least a week long. In Alaska, preferably.

- THE END -