Title: Je l'aime mais je veux l'oublier
Author: WriterKos
Rating: FR15
Parings: Gibbs/Jenny
Characters: Gibbs/Jenny
Genres: Romance, First Time, Character Study.
Warnings: Pre-Series
Summary: France. Summer. A long stakeout in a small attic. A series of small vignettes about the developing relationship between Gibbs and Jenny. Written for the Oh the places she's been challenge and Jibbs Challenge.
a/n: Yep, another WIP. I Can't help it, the plot bunnies keep attacking me. I promise this will be short. I hope. I think.
Chapter 1: Je ne regrette rien Non... rien de rien... Edith Piaf - Je ne regret rien
Non... je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien qu'on ma fait,
Ni le mal - tout ça m'est bien égal!
Non... rien de rien...
Non... je ne regrette rien
He closes his rain jacket up to his neck, and walks silently towards the beach. His left hand, in his jacket pocket, silently caresses the letter he found in the middle of his things as he arrived in America.
She left, no goodbyes, never looking back, and only a letter is what remains to explain her reasons. That is, if she has any reasonable reason to leave him, after how they got together, how he opened up his soul and heart to another, after all these years of hiding up his emotions under lock and key. He built walls and raised sharpened spikes around his heart, all in a vain effort to stop anyone and everyone to touch his soul.
He loved, and he lost it in a blink of an eye. His wife and kid were killed while he was away, and he believed that with them a part of his soul, the one capable of loving another being, died as well.
Until she came along and slowly wiggled her way into his life.
He arrives at the beach, and takes of his shoes. He wiggles his toes on the soft white sand, and slowly walks towards the surf. His feet get wet, and he slowly walks, thinking about the woman that he believed he loved but, apparently his love wasn't enough. Not for her.
Jenny.
He approaches some rocks, lying on the beach, being bathed by the restless toil of the waves, slowly eroding it. He sits on the surface of the rock and looks at the ocean.
The seagulls fly low over the waves, trying to see any fish that might be swimming close to the surface that might become their next meal. Their cries fill the air.
He takes the letter out of his pocket, and slowly runs his hand over it to make it easier to open it. He slowly unfolds it, and sighs. Her desertion hurt. More than he was willing to admit.
A stronger wave crash against his feet, and he folds his legs higher, supporting his weight against another stone.
He opens the letter completely, and looks at it, and finally starts reading it.
Dear Jethro,
If you are reading this, I left you without saying goodbye on the airplane out of Paris. I'm sorry I had to hurt you this way but, despite our amazing moments together, previous commitments demanded my attention.
Said commitments won't allow me explore the rich universe of our passion, regardless of how much I want it.
If everything went according to the plan, I left you on the plane, and you never noticed that I was never coming back. Taking those steps away from you, without betraying my pain and despair on leaving you behind, were the hardest ever in my whole life.
As Edith Piaf's song says, Je ne regret rien. Pas de rien.
I don't regret anything.
I don't regret the good times, the laughter we shared, the love you made to me, nothing.
I don't regret the bad times. The escape, the mission. My probie's mistake that cost you your freedom for some days.
I know how you feel about apologies. I won't apologize. But my mistake will haunt me for the rest of my life. And I know that one day my mistakes will find a way to catch up with me.
Don't they always?
My path is leading me to other lands, far from you. My choices, though motivated by my career goals, are my own, not forced unto me by others.
I hope you know, this has nothing to do with you. It's personal, myself and I, we have some straightening out to do. The path that I'm walking I have to go on my own. I can not share it with you, as you would only be hurt on the aftermath.
But Jethro, your teachings will always guide me, as they are imprinted in my own soul. You taught me so much, and yet I feel like I've learnt so little. I had to leave to learn more.
One day, when our paths cross again, I hope you had finally found in your heart the strength to forgive me.
Je t'aime toujours.
La dame en rouge.
Jenny.
a/n: Poor Gibbs! Bad Jenny!