A:N Jibbs oneshot that came into my mind. Please review!!
Summary: Jenny never pictured herself to be the kind of woman that cheated on her husband.
He lazily tracked his fingertip down the woman's exposed back. She smiled into the pillow and threw out her arm to swat his hand away. He caught her wrist and started placing butterfly kisses on her soft skin at her pulse point. She let out a sound that could have been a moan she failed to suppress. He smirked against her skin and she cracked one eye to glare at her lover. How she was able to give him that look in this moment, he'd never understand.
Jenny lay on her stomach, the sheet having slid down to rest around her hips. The man who's bed she was currently in was taking advantage of the exposed skin, teasing her by running his slightly callused fingers in circles over her back, trailing them up and down her spine until the shivers almost drove her crazy.
She was well aware she shouldn't really be in this bed, shouldn't allow him to satisfy her, shouldn't feel like she never wanted to get out of this bed. Not when she had a husband at home.
She twisted her head and met the gaze of her lover. He smiled back at her, shooting out a hand to brush a wisp of red hair behind her ear. He then traced the contours of her face, her lips which were still swollen from being kissed by him. She kissed his fingertips, causing a smile to linger on his lips as he leaned forward to kiss her tenderly.
He pulled away when she didn't respond, and looked at her quizzically. She propped herself up on her elbows, brushed more hair out of her face and turned her head fully around toward him. He was still watching her silently, waiting for an explanation to her sudden withdrawal.
"Much as I enjoy this, I should be going home," she spoke, her voice gravelly and appeared surprisingly loud in the otherwise serenely quiet room.
He looked away, fixed his gaze on a long red hair laying on his sheet, thought she doubted he was really looking at it.
"Jethro?" she said the name of her lover softly, and that seemed to rouse him from his thoughts. He blinked, but did not raise his gaze.
"I'm not liking this, Jen," he suddenly said, and she was taken aback by this. She wasn't sure what he mean by it. Didn't he like being with her?
"What do you mean?" she asked just as softly as before.
He tore his gaze from the hair on the bed and met her concerned green eyes.
"I don't like the fact that you're married, Jen,"
She looked down. She'd married Peter a few years after she'd left Gibbs in Europe. They'd had a pretty stable relationship, though no kids yet, stable yes, until she became director and was suddenly face to face with her former lover. All the old familiar feelings started to creep up on her again, and no doubt they were haunting him too, for one evening when she was packing up for the night, he was suddenly entering her office with a report. She'd offered bourbon and he'd been hopelessly unable to decline. She'd come to learn, that her self-control was all too easy to break when surrounded by his scent and all the familiar feelings he roused inside of her. All too soon he had tossed her across her desk, neither caring he'd knocked over her lamp and the computer screen was swaying dangerously on the edge as he took her with a ferocity she hadn't felt in a long time. She was glad they were pretty much alone at the office, because her scream of pleasure when he drove her beyond the edge was surely heard through the walls of her office, how far she hadn't bothered to calculate. A one-time thing, they told each other. Though she'd known for many years, she didn't nearly love Peter as much as she apparently still loved Gibbs. And her new job had forced her into long days and that had inevitably taken a toll on their marriage. So when Gibbs had come to her that night, loved her the way he had, she hadn't wanted it to stop. And though they'd promised to never mention this ever again, she showed up on his doorstep on evening after a fight with Peter, a night that had ended with her being pinned between the boat and Gibbs' hot, firm body moving deep inside her.
She was pulled from her thoughts by Gibbs' hand gently brushing her arm. She caught his gaze and he looked at her questioningly.
She shook her head.
"I don't like it either, Jethro. I never imagine myself being the kind of woman that would cheat on her husband," she replied and now it was his turn to shake his head.
"That's not what I meant, Jen." He dug his piercing blue eyes into her expressive green ones. "I'm sick of sharing you. I'm sick about that when you come by in the evenings, I can only have you for a little while, then you have to go home to a man you don't love," he sounded hurt, and strangely tired and she was hit with the realization he wanted something more serious from her. She turned her gaze away.
"You don't love him, do you?" he said incredulously and withdrew his hand that had rested on her arm.
She avoided his gaze.
She was silent for so long he was beginning to fear she did. Then, "Not like I love you," low, tender and raspy was her voice. She felt his hand under her cheek, tilting up her face and she followed his movement. Their eyes met and held.
"Divorce him,"
"What?" the words shocked her.
"Divorce him," he sounded so sure, so confident. But it wasn't so simple for her.
"Jethro…" she started but abruptly cut herself off because she had no idea what to say.
"Jenny, " he said, his tone serious, "You're not happy with him. I know you well enough to know you wouldn't sleep with another man if you were in happy relationship, not even with me," he added and smiled faintly at his attempt to lighten the mood. She didn't return it.
"By the way, what are you telling him when he asks were you are all nights?" he asked.
"I say I have to work late," she said, still avoiding his gaze.
"You apparently work late a lot. And he buys that?"
"I guess. He haven't made any accusations yet,"
To his great surprise, but also to his great joy, she rolled over in bed and pressed her back to his chest. He immediately circled an arm around her waist and held her close. He nuzzled his face into her hair. She laced her fingers together with his.
"Jen," he suddenly spoke and broke the silence weaved over the room.
"Mmm?"
But he didn't continue, not until she turned her head to glance at him.
His eyes were closed, as if he had yet to determine what to say. He opened the pale blue ones and looked back at her.
"I need an answer, Jen. I'm too old to be just your lover, too tired of watching you retreat out through that door. I know, you probably want a family with kids and stuff, and I'm not sure I'm up for that. Just so you know. But you need to make a choice, Jen,"
After he'd spoken, the room fell into silence again.
She contemplated what he'd said. Moved from her position against his chest. Turned around toward him and once again propped herself up on her elbow.
Her green eyes studied him carefully, and he got the impression she was reviewing the pros and cons of either man.
She suddenly shook her head.
"If I have to answer now…" she never finished the sentence with words, but instead pressed her lips firmly to his.
He instantly wound his hand into her hair, kissing her back fiercely. He slipped his other arm around her waist and pulled her on top of him.
"You!" she panted between kisses and felt him smirk against her as he was kissing his way around her neck. Her legs slipped down to rest on the mattress on either side of his body while cupping his face in her hands and delivering a heated, open-mouthed kiss. His mind was reeling, all he was able to focus on was the movements of her tongue in his mouth and the heat coming from her inner thighs that were pressed against the lower part of his stomach.
When she pulled back for breath, he was finally able to think clear enough he could flip them over. He did, and sank deep into her for the second time that night. She moaned, clutched at his back as his thrusts took him deeper inside her. She arched her neck, felt him panting against her collarbone and all too soon she reached her peak and tightened her hold around him as she drew him over the edge with her, her teeth buried deep in his shoulder and his fingers bruising her thighs.
He was about to roll off her, allowing her some time to breathe, but her arms around his neck wouldn't budge. He looked up at her quizzically.
She stroked his hair.
"Lie here with me," she whispered, her voice hoarse. He let her lay his head down on her chest, his body almost covering hers. He listened to her heartbeats slowly returning to a more normal pace. Her fingers playing with his hair as she held him firmly down to herself.
Her gentle, womanly touches and his strong sense of satisfaction caused his breathing to grow calmer and his eyelids to droop. He was soon asleep in her arms.
Few hours later, he stirred at the sound of her cursing and feeling her trying to push him off her. Sleep still clouding his brain, he wondered why she was doing this, but he wasn't gonna let it happen, he thought and tightened his hold on her.
"Damn it. Jethro!" she pushed harder and he groaned as he felt his body leave the warmth of being cradled in her arms. He felt a weight being lifted off the bed and lazily blinked his eyes open to a sight that caused his heart to jump up into his throat.
Jenny. Struggling into her pants.
"What the hell are you doing?" he spluttered out and she turned to glare at him. He enjoyed the fact she hadn't yet put on a bra. Not a fact he was going to share with her now when she looked like she was capable of strangling him.
"Where the hell do you think I'm going? It's 2am Jethro!" she snapped and wriggled the pants over her buttocks and buttoned them.
His mind was slowly catching up. "Your husband…?"
"Yes," she sounded frustrated. "We evidently fell asleep and now…" she struggled to find the right words and waved her hands furiously while trying to think of something. Due to both frustration and, he suspected, lack of sleep, she had a real trouble in fastening her bra around her body. She cursed again and tossed the damned thing onto the bed. Their eyes met. He understood how she felt. She was angry, she was sad, she was hurt. She was confused. And Jenny Shepard wasn't used to that. Though there was no doubt which man had her heart, she was still making one of the toughest choices in her life.
He slid over to the edge of the bed, picked up her bra and beckoned her over. She slumped down on the edge of the bed and sat still and silent while he slipped her arms through the bra straps, adjusted it around her breasts and hooked the clasp in the back. Looking around in the bedroom, he found her top in convenient reach, tossed onto the bedside table.
"Arms up," he instructed and she obeyed. He slid on the tank top and pulled it down. He combed his fingers gently through her hair to straighten out the worst of the tangles.
"Thank you," she whispered when he placed his hands on her shoulders.
"You're welcome," he whispered back and began to massage her shoulders with slow, firm movements. She closed her eyes and let his slightly callused hands work their magic on her muscles.
"You're right," she suddenly spoke, causing his hand movements to stop.
"About?"
"That I wouldn't be sleeping with another man if I was happy in my marriage,"
He placed his lips to her head, but she tilted it forward, away from him.
"So, what are you gonna do? Earlier tonight you said you'd chose me," he said, suddenly remembering what she'd said. She hung her head. He drew his hands from her shoulders.
"Jethro I honestly don't know," she swallowed hard and felt his shift behind her.
"Let me know when you've made up your mind." Cold, strained an hurt as hell. She felt him move to the other side of the bed.
"Jethro," she said weakly. No reply. She contemplated her choices. She could leave now, go home to Peter and have a real talk, try to solve their issues and give their marriage a second chance. She could tell the man in the bed behind her she loved him and stay the rest of the night, and confess to Peter in the morning, which would undoubtedly lead to a divorce. Or she could go home, and ask for a divorce. Damn. She wanted something from every choice. She wanted to fix their marriage, at the same time she wasn't sure it was Peter she wanted to build the perfect marriage with. She wanted Gibbs, at the same time she was unsure what they could build together. But one thing she's just noticed was that when Peter turned his back to her after a fight, the pain wasn't nearly as excruciating as when it was Gibbs that turned away from her. She guessed she had her answer.
"I've made up my mind," she said gingerly. No reply.
She rose from the bed, circled the bed and he was damn sure she was heading for the door. Then he felt a weight being set down on the bed next to him, He cracked one eye.
"I can't love him like I love you," she stroked his hair.
"But?" he sensed there was a but in there somewhere.
"But, I'm not sure I can throw away what Peter and I have built together, not just like that. I doubt our marriage is fixable, but I wanna give it one last chance before I give up," tears glistened in her eyes. He felt his heart sink, but was glad she was being honest. Before he could reply, she spoke again.
"But if it doesn't work…" she let the sentence hang unfinished.
"I might be here," he replied, not ready to fully give her up, but not sure he could take her back.
"Okay," she whispered. Leaned forward and pressed her warm lips to his forehead. He closed his eyes, not wanting to watch her leave.
"Bye Jethro," she whispered from the doorway.
"I love you, Jenny," was the last thing she heard before shutting the bedroom door behind her. It caused the beads of tears having been dammed up in her eyes to finally flood, racing down her cheeks in streams. They were still beads in her eyelashes as she hopped into her car.
But, when she got home, she was met by more than one surprise. When she walked through the front door, she realized lights were on in the living room. Two-thirty in the morning. She walked in, and found her husband sitting in the couch, a glass of scotch in his hand. His eyes rose from the spreadsheet of photos covering the table. She took another step forward, and drew a sharp breath as she all too well recognized the persons in the photos.
Photo number one: Her and Gibbs entering the NCIS building
Photo number two: Her arriving at Gibbs' house.
Photo number three: Her and Gibbs outside his front door.
Photo number four: Her and Gibbs still outside his front door, kissing.
Photo number five: Gibbs' bedroom window, blinds drawn, lights on.
Peter rose from the couch, his face taut. He walked her direction, thrusting a piece of paper into her hand as he passed her.
She glanced at it. It said 'Divorce attorney' and underneath was a number.
She fought back the tears, crumbled the piece of paper in her hand. She glanced after her husband he disappeared into the kitchen. She knew there was no way she'd chase after him.
Gibbs was roused from his always so light sleep by the creaking of someone walking the stairs. He instinctively reached for his SIG lying on the bedside table. He hugged the handle while watching the door being pushed open. Suddenly, a red-eyed Jenny Shepard stood before him, remnants of crying on her cheeks. He put the gun back onto the table as she smiled sadly at him.
"It's over," she whispered.
He slipped a little further up in the bed, threw back the sheets and beckoned for her to come over. She came, kicked off her shoes and crawled into bed next to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her body, now shaking with her crying and he felt her tears stain his bare chest.
"I love you," she mumbled against his skin. He kissed her hair, and pulled the sheet tighter around them. He was done with letting her go.