Author's Note: As a Jibbs fan, I highly recommend the story Paris Nights by , along with its prequel and sequel. It gives an amazing backstory that the show leaves out! Writing this song-fic I used that as a background - it should make sense even if you haven't read Paris Nights, but credit goes to for some of the history alluded to here. Also I don't own NCIS obviously, or the song Need You Now.
Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor
Reaching for the phone 'cause I can't fight it any more
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind...for me it happens all the time
Hours had passed since Jenny settled herself on the plush carpeting with the old photo album. A single lamp lit the study, casting light only on her scattering of pictures as she removed them one by one. She smiled as she turned another page, threading her fingers between plastic and paper to grasp the edge of the photo. She removed it, and a much younger version of Gibbs glared up at her from under an Indiana-Jones style hat. London. Oh, I loved that fedora.
Memories swept over her again as she recalled jamming it on his head, then half-regretting it when she realized the difficulty it caused in keeping her eyes and hands off him. Damn, that looked good, she smirked, studying the photo again. London...unresolved sexual tension at its best. God know why we waited so long to...She cut off the thought before it went any farther, but couldn't stop the flipping sensation in her stomach. Marseille. Just one word still took her back to the long-awaited explosion of frustration and passion. Two days of stakeout in a stuffy, cramped room with crappy food will do that to a person. And when he'd made it obvious that he didn't trust her to simply keep an eye on the mark...the ensuing argument triggered just enough abandon to result in an earth-shaking collision. Her toes curled just thinking of it.
Good thing you learned to separate anger and insane lust, Jenny. She remembered how their heated arguments always built up to an even hotter ending. Disagreements over assignments, tactics, or even who would get to drive...neither would give in, until his flashing blue eyes were so close she could feel the electricity. Just when she was furious enough to slap him, they would somehow crash together, no gentleness to be found in their lips, hands, and moans. By the time they finish dueling for power, one would give in...usually him, she recalled smugly.
Conflict resolution. Too bad...She refused to finish the thought, trying to block out her argument with him earlier that day. He knew I was right. There just wasn't enough to suggest the death of that Marine's housekeeper should be in our jurisdiction. He'd stomped into her office past Cynthia and slammed the door shut, insisting she hear him out. But he really had nothing to say. No evidence. He'd gotten in her face, just like the old days. He insisted that the Marine's request for the case not to be left to Metro PD should be honored. Then, at her repeated refusal, he stormed out - not nearly as satisfying as...Closing her eyes, she replayed the scene in her mind. His aftershave and coffee scent, every fleck in his blue eyes snapping...He was so close she could have leaned forward and kissed him, pulled him against her, and maybe the only thing stopping her was the desk between them. The desk, the promotion, the job. Like always.
Another photo stopped her in her tracks, and she froze as she studied the two of them framed against the background of Paris from the Eiffel Tower. He had both arms wrapped around her as she leaned in front of him, maybe trying to stop her from snapping a picture with the camera she held out at arm's length. Her long red hair swung over her shoulder and his face was half-buried in it, but enough of his expression was visible to take her breath away.
His smile actually reached his eyes, and she recognized the emotion on his face as real happiness. When was the last time I saw him happy? She couldn't picture this expression on his face now. He seems so tired, worn out. When did this happen?
Then she realized her own expression in the photo matched his. Her eyes glowed, cheeks flushed, and she seemed without a worry in the world. Jenny set down the photo and studied her reflection in the glass bookcase. Was I ever that young? And when did I get this old?
Sighing, she glanced back down at the pictures. A lifetime ago. Nothing to do now but let go of them, all of it. No good dredging up old memories. But as hard as she tried to convince herself...just a few more pages.
Paris.
Positano.
St. Petersburg.
And before she knew it, her cell phone was in her hand. This is stupid, childish, nearsighted. You promised you wouldn't do this, Jenny. Jethro's never been one to wait for someone else to make a move. If he wanted this, you would know. Things have changed...thanks to your ambition.
Doesn't he ever wonder what if? She didn't use the programmed-in contact entry, but dialed the number by heart. One ring...two...three...Stupid, stupid, stupid. Four...five...The automated voicemail clicked on, and she chuckled as she realized he probably never bothered learning to check his messages.
Just as well.
It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone, and I need you now
Swore I wouldn't call, but I lost all control and I need you now
And I don't know how I can do without
I just need you now
One more chapter coming ASAP =)
