Disclaimer NCIS is not mine

a/nTo say I've been absent from FanFiction for a little while seems to be an understatement. College, work, amd beta-ing have taken up all my free time, and that is without even considering the fact that my Jibbs muse, and writing muse all together has become none existent. However, I adore bonfire night, and this is just a little scent setting, set over the pond in the US, tonight. Well... In a fantasy land however many years ago when Jenny was director. But that isn't the point.

enjoy!

The Lights Above Thames Bank

A small smile graced her red lacquered lips as she entered the office at the end of the catwalk. A cold metal door gave entrance to a light and professional looking room, walls painted the same faded orange tone as in the rest of the building, carpet a rough hard wearing grey colour and all centred around a glass conference table which was polished to perfection. The large window that encompassed the external wall provided natural light in which to work and a focal point reminder of why they did the job they did.

The director placed her stiff black leather shoulder bag down on the solid mahogany desk behind which every person in her position had ever sat. Scuttlebutt had it that the desk was the very same one that had sat in the Directors office when NIS had first been set up; in a townhouse not far from her own in Georgetown. The desk had been where the whole idea of NIS had fermented, and as luck would have it, it had stayed an ever constant in the ever changing agency. Outliving the original name the agency had been christened with -staying when a C was casually dropped in, it had outlasted any and every agent to enter the building and many a director, SecNav, and president. When the agency had moved buildings it had been the one piece of furniture to get carried across Jenny cherished the desk for everything it stood for and the history it told, just as she did the chair that sat behind it.

Easily she shrugged of the deep red wool knit coat from her shoulders and hung it up out of sight. She had effectively managed to avoid her winter attire until today, but that wasn't to matter. Being it the 5th November she had deemed it finally acceptable to welcome her thick coats and sweaters. All of which had been unearthed from the depths of her wardrobe that morning and seen the early light of day for the first time since winter.

The red head walked over to the window and took a moment to take in the view and collect her thoughts, just as she did every morning. Out in that Navy Yard over which Sh head such a stunning view, were men and women who put their lives on the line for her, and every other person in their contra. It was only right that every morning she reminded herself of the importance of making the right decision. It would be so easy to detach herself and make the wrong one after all. A light frost had taken to all the surfaces it could touch, Jack had worked his magic once more. The grass was a muted shade of pea green, the pavements a pale grey as oppose to their usual bold black and the lamp posts were bordering on an off white.

The red head took in the view, smiling to herself. To her, this was the first day of winter and the lead up to festivities. Halloween had been and gone, the shops had removed the garish orange and black decorations and would swiftly be replacing them with red and green for the festive season. Pumpkins would be traded in for holly with berries, and bats replaced by reindeer pulling santa's sleigh. However that wasn't the reasons she was smiling. Today was Bonfire night-

-or at least it was in England anyway. America hadn't adopted the holiday as it had done so many others. Across the pond everyone knew the story behind the bright explosions of colour, Guy Forkes and his attempt to blow up the Houses of Parliament. It was today that they would all be reminded what had happened. Back in America however, no one much knew the significance of the day.

It was the first year that Jenny had been in DC for bonfire night in too long. Between working Cairo and Egypt it had been a holiday that no one else knew much about. When she was a child her father had told her about the day, reciting the tale to her. He had had a deployment once upon a time which left him in England for a week which just so happened to include the 5th November. Consequently he had learnt the story of gunpowder, treason and plot. She and Noemi had made ginger sponge and toffee apples every year up until his death. She had returned home the previous night to the greeting of ginger infused air, a smell that had instantly dashed her back to that time, and made her the days when things were much more innocent. As she stood there she thought about last time she had celebrated the occasion; London.

She and Jethro had been on their final mission, running across Europe and practically getting shot as many times as they entered a new country. Somehow, the gods had decided that they would end up in London on the 5th November. As much as Jethro had wanted to hide from the world, or more accurately spend the evening in bed, the red head had dragged him out. Pulling up the collar of that butter soft cream leather coat he had bought her and dragging him all the way the the Thames Bank to watch the sky come alive with gunpowder and colour on the backdrop of the iconic monuments. Seeing the beauty and feeling the buzz that her father had described to her years go.

She still remembered the evening clearly. Primarily because it was the last one they had spent together before they had been given the orders to end Svetlana and Antatoly. In some ways it was the end of an era more than when she left him. Not that they knew it at the time.

Ducky had met them that night, and they'd stood there in each others arms watching the sky. The explosions of colour, and light, mystifying everyone. Ducky had told them the story behind Bonfire night, the long version anyway.

Jenny remembered Ducky leaving early, and her and Jethro staying late, just relishing in there being no one to act in front of. They'd danced that night, there was no music but it didn't matter. On the way back they'd uncharacteristically bought hot chocolate to warm their freezing fingers and returned to the room to sleep.

There was something about that memory that made her feel content, that made her feel as though not all of her life had been spent trying to get to the top. That once in a while she had paused and enjoyed life, even if it was just for an evening. Yet the knowledge of what had followed that evening; the race and blood and fear and death, and a tear stained dear John letter. It made the entire thing seem so bittersweet.

Running a hand through her short and spiked red hair she sighed. There was work to be done. Turning around Jenny let her eyes linger on the desk, a deep green leather rectangle sat on top of the wood to write on. Contrasting against the dark colour was a foreign object. Jenny pulled out her chair and sat down, she could see now that it was a piece of white cardboard, 4" by 6". Picking it up she spun it over to see herself staring back at her - only younger.

Ducky must have taken the photo, not that she remembered him doing so. She and Jethro both had smiles on, her head was rested in the crook of his neck and his cheek rested on her head. It was taken from an angle. So you could see the fireworks in the sky above them further down the river. Her thumb rested on the picture, over the area where she could see her own hand on Gibbs coat.

A bundle of emotions ran through her. The red head bit her lip as she looked at the photo, until the coppery taste of blood touched her tongue and she let it go.

The sound of her assistant on intercom broke the train of though. The SecNav was in the building, and there was work to be done.

this has been completely done off of my iPad, so I appologise for any mistakes takes my laptop has a virus...

please leave me your thoughts and to anyone here in England, have a wonderful and magical evening, but stay safe!