A/N- Ok, so I was REALLY BORED when I wrote this. REALLY BORED! Which is probably why even I can recognise just how crappy this is. But, it go rid of an afternoon, eh!? It's JIBBS though, so yay and Christmas so yay, again.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs grunted as he placed one of his best glares upon the ringing cell phone in his hand. He really wished the damn thing-a-magig would just disappear. He was all set for a quiet Christmas Eve of bourbon and sanding his boat.
"Gibbs," he answered rather gruffly.
The voice on the other end of the line spoke in a quiet feminine tone with a sense of urgency that Gibbs silently noted. What could she need of him, specifically? He wondered, especially considering the agency was functioning on minimal staff over the holidays and his team was not meant to be on call.
"Yeah, yeah, Jen. I'm on my way. Just don't…just stay where you are."
He kept his eyes straight ahead on the road as he drove through the almost empty streets to Jenny's Georgetown mansion, baffled for a reason she had called so suddenly and requested he come over urgently.
Thinking of all the things that could have befallen her, made his head spin and he sped up a little, in a rush to reach her.
He became a little worried when he pulled up outside her house, which was covered in freshly lain snow, that her front door was ajar allowing a small glimmer of light to seep through.
"Jen?" He questioned slowly, walking into the foyer, his hand griping the gun in his jacket pocket when he didn't receive a reply right away.
Most of the lights were off, including the ones of her study, surprisingly. Apart from the foyer, the living room looked like the only place that was illuminated. Jethro paused listening for noise. A small screech or a squeal, he couldn't tell which one, was enough to make him turn, running into the living room. He barged the door open, gun at the ready.
"NCIS," he shouted pointing his weapon at the only occupant of the room.
"Jethro! Put that away," Jenny stated loudly in her best directors voice sounding a more than a little shocked, from her perch atop a rickety looking foot ladder standing next to a bare pine tree.
"I call you over here to help and you try and shoot me, Jethro!?"
"I thought you were in trouble, Jen," he said exasperatedly. "Your front door was open and…and, where's your security detail? What on earth are you doing?" He finished taking in her position.
Jethro noted she was wearing ugg boots with casual jeans and a shirt. He hadn't seen her in anything other than directors strict work attire for a while. It was a nice change. She climbed down from the ladder, placed the box of baubles she had been attempting to hang the tree on a chair and walked over to the table pouring two classes of bourbon and handing one to Gibbs gingerly, before speaking.
"You at least deserve some alcohol for coming over, Jethro. I'm sorry I disrupted an evening with your boat," she said in a light tone, her green eyes sparkling.
Jethro wasn't willing to admit it but he was confused by her behaviour. "Director Shepard, where is your security detail?" he said far more forcefully this time.
Jenny rolled her eyes at him and walked back over to the tree, sitting down on the bottom rung of the ladder.
"I sent them home for Christmas Eve. They deserve it after all; did you know Simmons has a young daughter? Jen said conversationally, refusing to buy into Jethro's dull and forceful demeanour.
"I told them a senior agent would be over to keep an eye on me for the night." She finished as an explanation, smirking.
"And how did you know I would come, Jen?"
She laughed quietly under her breath and Jethro sensed that she was in a good mood tonight.
"Jethro, I know you, you could never resist a damsel in distress. I say I need help urgently and here you here!" She snapped her fingers, her voice becoming higher and lighter and eyebrows rising. "So, you're going to help me with a little task!"
Jethro groaned.
"Usually," she continued, ignoring him, "I put the Christmas tree up a little earlier but you know how flat out the agency's been of late, what with you pissing Fornell off at every turn, and I prefer to do it when I do it myself."
Jethro wondered how far he could get before Jenny came after him, unhappy at being called away from his boat to decorate. He turned to leave.
"Uh, uh, Agent Gibbs." She said walking over and grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to face her. "You're not going anywhere; you're going to help me decorate my Christmas tree." She gestured to the tree standing in the corner.
"Do I have to?" Jethro said in a whiny voice, thinking how chatty Jenny had become.
Jen didn't reply right away, she simply laughed loudly, a huge satisfied smirk growing on her face.
"You know, I've missed spending time with you, Jethro. You always cheer me up, when you're not pissing me off." Jenny said much quieter this time, while staring out through the window at the snow that had began to fall, so much quieter it was as if she hadn't meant to say the thought aloud.
It was then that Jethro realized just how hot it was in her living room. The fire was roaring, casting a dull light through the room and Jenny was still standing with her body angled towards his, with her hand on his shoulder.
"Je-"
Jethro moved to speak but he was silenced by Jenny turning suddenly her warm lips crashing into his and her tongue momentarily running over his bottom lip before she pulled away. His hands moved to grip her shoulders.
"So, what's in it for me if I help you with your Christmas tree?" He said in a gruff tone, his mouth suddenly very dry.
Jenny didn't say anything. She merely laughed again and dropped her lips to his again, kissing him softly and tantalizingly before pulling away and resting her head against his chest.
"I'm in."
"I thought you might be," she said smugly.
"Merry Christmas, Jethro," Jenny said quietly as her lips were caught again in a passionate kiss.