Naples Field Office

October 11th, 1998

In the confinement of the Naples field office it was hard to ignore the fact that she was attractive to men.

Gibbs tried, and failed, to keep his eyes off the back-pleated skirt that slid up her thighs as she leaned over her desk and reached for the phone – as did everyone else in the vicinity. But as she scribbled something on a piece of paper he heard a low approaching whistle to his left, and his eyes narrowed as he attributed the sound to Wiliam Decker.

The man walked past him and perched on the edge of her desk as she replaced the phone.

"Happy unbirthday," he said with a wink as he handed her a package.

Jenny looked at him through wide eyes when she realised what he'd given her.

"You can't find these in Europe. Where did y-"

Decker leaned forward and whispered the answer into her ear.

"Oh stop it, " she snorted as she slapped his arm with the back of her hand.

"I'm serious. It's a meat market out there. Everything's available for a price."

Jenny covered her eyes with a hand and shook in silent laughter.

"Get out of here," she said after a moment. "I have work to do."

"I pimp myself to get you Reese's peanut butter cups and this is the thanks I get?" Decker complained as she planted a hand into his chest and pushed him away.

"I'm not hitting the streets to get you anything, if that's what you're asking," she said with a smile.

"I'll collect on that drink you promised me," he replied seriously, his voice dropping a notch.

Jen froze.

She'd put him off repeatedly for the past few weeks, but it had been fairly easy because he'd always cornered her in private. Although he'd whispered his request she was well aware that at least three pairs of eyes were watching the interaction with interest.

"Thank you for the chocolate," she said with the best smile she could muster.

"I will collect," Decker said. Winking at her again before turning and leaving.

Jen closed her eyes as he walked away. When she opened them again Jethro was bent over paperwork; and although she knew he wasn't the type of man to feel threatened, what they had was too new to risk misunderstandings. She scrambled the paper roughly - knowing it would attract his attention - and dropped the entire package into the trash can as she walked past his desk.

"Shepard!" an agent called Calhoun shouted as he entered the room.

Jen stopped in her tracks and put her hands on her hips as she turned to face him.

"Yeah?" she asked cockily.

A paper plane hit her square in the chest.

"This is your fault."

Jen crouched and unfolded the piece of paper.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"I kid you not," Calhoun said. "Found it posted in the cafeteria a few minutes ago. This is your fault and you're buying tonight."

Pacci sauntered up behind her and plucked the piece of paper from her hands.

"Thanks a lot, Jen," he said as he patted her on the shoulder.

"How is this my fault?"

"You come to work looking like sin on heels and you ask how this is your fault?" Pacci said with a laugh. "You have half these poor bastards jer-"

He trailed off as he was relieved of the paper.

Gibbs took in the contents and his eyebrows rose into his hairline.

"Nice one, Jen," he said as he dropped the paper onto Callen's desk.

"Hey!" she said. "This is not my fault."

"I've never been to a sexual harassment seminar," Callen piped up.

"Green lights, red lights ..." Pacci started to explain.

"Orange lights," contributed Calhoun.

A groan of frustration reverberated around the room.

Jen shot them all a withering look and spun on her heel; grabbing her handbag before leaving the room.

"You're buying, Shepard," Calhoun shouted after her. "You hear me? You're buying!"

"Is she annoyed?" Callen asked, cringing as the door slammed shut.

"Nah."

"How bad can it be?" Callen said as he held the paper up.

The only answer he got was a slap upside the head.


October 13th, 1998

Gibbs looked at his watch and stifled a yawn.

Ten minutes past five and there was no indication that the seminar was anywhere close to ending.

Two seats to the right Calhoun was vying for Jenny's attention.

"What are you looking at?" he heard the man hiss as he reached for the photocopy she was looking at.

"None of your business," she snapped as she batted his hand and angled her body away from him.

"Oh come on," Calhoun said as he tried to reach across her.

"Is there a problem, Agent Calhoun?" the instructor asked.

"No ma'am," he drawled.

Making the most of the reprieve, Jen folded the piece of paper over and slid it to Gibbs for safekeeping; with what he could only describe as a poker face. His hand rested over it for a few moments, and when curiosity got the better of him he pulled it off the desk and opened it. He stared at the drawing for a moment, not sure what he was supposed to be seeing. It was a drawing of a bird. A damn good drawing. He chanced a look at Jen, and the gleam in her eye told him that he was missing something. His eyes scanned the drawing again. More critically this time. And that's when he saw the cleverly-disguised figure of a woman within.

He chanced another look at the woman by his side and a spark of electricity ran straight to his groin as he watched her twirl a tress of hair in her fingers before running it through her lips.

He'd never had a place in the triangle that had been Burley, Pacci, and Jenny in DC, but looking at her now he wondered how he'd missed the fact that she had a wicked streak. He wanted to think that she'd evolved in the weeks since Marseille; that it was down to him and the way their relationship had changed. But she hadn't really. She'd always had a sexual edge to her. An edge it was impossible to ignore now that he'd rubbed against it. An edge that was making it difficult for him to keep his hands off her.

He didn't think he'd been this frustrated since his early days in the Corps.

Logic dictated that at this juncture in the narrative they should be grabbing every possible opportunity to be together – even if it meant sneaking around. But that, too, was proving impossible. They were surrounded by colleagues all day and sometimes all night, and their living arrangements were hardly conducive to spending the night together. As things stood he hadn't been able to get close to her for the past four days, and walking around with a semi-erection all day was starting to grate on his nerves.

Something brushed against the hand lying on his lap, and it took him all of two seconds to realise that the fleeting caress had come from Jen. Her hand was gone before he could respond in kind, but the small smile on her face told him all he needed to know. Conscious of the fact that nobody could see what he was doing, he slipped his hand between her and her chair and stroked her outer thigh with his thumb. Jen bit her lower lip as she turned to look at him, but it was the way her eyes smouldered that gave him the idea that the past four days has been as difficult for her as they had for him.

His body's response was immediate.

"Agent Gibbs!"

All heads snapped up at the sound of Decker's voice.

Pacci, Callen and Jen were on their feet in an instant – assuming this meant a call out.

"Just Gibbs," Decker said with an apologetic smile.

Jen watched them leave and felt a ripple of irritation run through her. If she read the situation correctly, all the promise she'd read in Jethro's eyes had just been snatched away from her.

She cursed Decker.

"You're buying doubles, Shepard," Calhoun hissed in her ear as he leaned across her without warning and grabbed the drawing off the table. "What was the big deal anyway?" he asked as he looked at the bird.


Author's note:

Expect a change in the rating for the second and final chapter of this, tomorrow.