Disclaimer – I don't own NCIS
Authors note – I've always intended to so a few one shots to add to putting back together the pieces of broken hearts. IT doesn't have to be read first but it may make sense as to where this one is coming from. This is the first, but hopefully not the last. Enjoy…
Paris, April 1997
He watched as she slept next to him, the early morning sun shining through the window, the drapes blowing gently. Her face formed a cute pout he'd always love, her hand under her head, and red curls splayed on the white pillows and sheets. He glanced at the white leather photo album with the Eiffel tower drawn in gold on the front. It was a wedding album, but this had been a marriage of alias's'. It lay on the sheets with the pen where it had been neglected last night as she wrote comments underneath each picture. Tonight they would go home, back to another world.
He carefully got out of the bed and picked up the album and pen as he did so. He pulled on some trousers and went to sit on the balcony. The spring breeze blew gently through his hair as he looked over the small streets below. He picked up the album and smiled as he opened it to a picture of them kissing in front of the Eiffel tower. They were living a cover, but their feelings were real. We'll forever have Paris he neat script read. He knew what that meant, so did she. Life in Dc would be a million miles away literally and metaphorically. He decided in that moment to add his own comments to the album too. And under the picture he wrote, in his scrawling handwriting your ass looks good in this on Jen xx simply because it did.
He turned the page and saw a picture of her in front of the old farmhouse in Serbia. He smiled remembering that week. He looked at her comment Serbia and smiled. Trust Jenny not to write anything that could give them away. So in his scrawl, write next to her script he wrote A week, cooped up in that little farm house with nothing to do but… He'd never drop them in it, but it was un subtle enough to remember what the but had been.
He continued to comment on some of the pictures, not all but some. In the middle of the album he found one of Jenny sat on the banks of the Seine. He remembered capturing the picture just before he picked her up and ran down into the water with her. She'd been wearing a white sun dress and it had gone more than slightly see through after the water had been added. He remembered that she had pinched his t-shirt and put that on over her dress as they'd walked back to the apartment. Under the picture she had written admiring the view over the city of love he smirked as he thought of a comment. Meanwhile I was admiring my own view of you…although I did prefer your dress when it was wet…and see through
The rest of the pictures got the same treatment. But as it came to the last picture it was empty. He got up, grabbed the camera and took a photo of Jenny sleeping. I came out instantly; he waited for it to develop then placed it in the album. Looking out he smiled as the city came alive just a little bit more. Smiling he grabbed the pen and wrote his final comment, this time from the heart.
The morning sun on Paris, their Eiffel tower, Notre dame - all beautiful sights. But this is the most beautiful of them all. Paris will always be our city of love.
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