Something in the Way She Moves
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement of any kind intended. Title comes from the Beatles song of the same name – definitely not owned by me!
Rating: T (slight mention of sex but nothing graphic)
A/N: Aserene posed the question of why Jenny's blouse was suddenly wrinkled and unbuttoned slightly when she appeared in Gibbs' basement in Kill Ari when the scene before she had been immaculate. I thought I'd play around with it a little. Takes place just after Gibbs tells Jen to come with him and they can talk in the car.
As always, feedback makes me happy ;)
God I've missed her. It might have been six years since we were last in a room together but suddenly, I don't care what happened to us towards the end in Paris. For six years I've wondered why she decided to leave me and now, in almost six minutes, she's managed to infiltrate every cell of my being, the way she always could.
I let her go ahead of me as we get into the elevator that will take us to the parking garage. When it reaches its destination I once again gesture for her to walk ahead of me. It might appear to be the gentlemanly thing to do but really I can't resist the opportunity to watch her walk in front of me. There's something in the way she moves that intoxicates me. She exudes confidence; not in an arrogant manner. She's simply in control of herself and doesn't care who knows it. Of course, I'm not immune to her beauty. She's still as gorgeous as she was six years ago, maybe even more so with the addition of a few lines around the eyes that only makes her even more of a force to be reckoned with. But it's this confidence; this power that I've always found sexy in her and I'm pleased that over the years it hasn't dissipated any.
"When you're quite finished checking out my ass maybe you could unlock the door?" she grinned at me as I blushed slightly, mad at myself for being so obvious.
"I wasn't checking out your ass," I mutter as we climb into the car.
"Oh no?" she teases, raising an eyebrow. I shrug. I can't very well tell her what I was thinking so I'll let this one go. I turn the key in the ignition and pull out of the space and out of the garage. As we travel along the road towards my house, I concentrate all my attention on the car in front; anything so that my eyes will stop drifting towards her bare knee that's become exposed as she crosses one shapely leg over another. She toys with the hem of her skirt which is now riding further up to expose a few inches of thigh. When she trails a perfectly manicured finger over the bare skin, I can't help but look. I quickly correct the position of the car from where it's drifted dangerously close to the center line while I've been distracted.
"Stop it, Jen," I warn her.
"Stop what, Jethro?" she asks innocently, but doesn't halt as she undoes the top button of her shirt. "It's hot in here,"
"Open a damn window," I say, not wanting her to know how I've noticed the increase in temperature in the confined space.
"No, I think I've got it," she says, unbuttoning another button and it's all I can do to pull into the side of the road before I crash into something. I turn sharply in my seat.
"What are you playing at?" I ask her, focusing my attention on her emerald eyes rather than the lace encased swell of her breast that is now peeking out from the opening in her shirt.
"I thought you missed me?"
"I thought there wasn't going to be any 'off the job',"
"We're still technically on the clock," she reasons, unclasping both of our seat belts and leaning in to me. Before I can even formulate an answer, her lips are on mine and I'm responding with a familiar passion. I can feel her tongue begin a welcome exploration of my mouth. I reach out to cup her breast in my palm and I feel myself tighten as she lets out a soft moan. It's only when she places her hand over my crotch that I come to my senses and pull away.
"No, Jen," I say, putting as much distance between us as the confines of the car will allow.
She looks at me and I can feel my resolve start to weaken as I take in the kiss-swollen lips and the genuine confusion in her eyes.
"I thought this is what you wanted?" she asks.
More than anything, I think but I don't voice this thought. Instead, I take a deep breath. "And I thought that this is exactly what you didn't want,"
"I guess seeing you made me want to pick up where we left off," she admits.
"Well then, why don't you look in the glove compartment? I'm sure there's a pen and paper in there so you can write me another 'Dear John' letter."
She doesn't say anything but I can see from the look on her face that my words have stung her and I instantly regret them.
"Look, Jen, I…"
"Let's just get back on the road, shall we?" she says quietly, buckling up her seat belt again. For a moment I see a flash of the Jen that people rarely get to see; insecure and vulnerable. Just as quickly, her confidence returns but it makes me wonder which is the real Jen – the confident, assured Jen I knew in Paris or the insecure Jen who just shone through. I sit for a moment but I'm not sure what to say so I start the car again and carefully pull out into the traffic.
We travel in silence for a few miles before I finally think of the right thing to say.
"I'm sorry, Jen,"
"Me too, Jethro," she replies almost wistfully, "Me too."
A/N: Ok so I know the dynamic between them at the end of this doesn't exactly fit in with the start of the basement scene but I felt this was the right place to end it. Please let review and let me know what you thought.