The following morning, Jethro Gibbs lay in bed, his wife curled up in his arms. Saturday. Their weekend off. There was no reason to get up. He relished in the fact Jen had not made him sleep on the couch. Then again, he knew it pissed her off as much as it pissed him off. If she cut him off, she cut herself off, and an unsatisfied Jennifer Shepard-Gibbs was not a pleasant thing to encounter.

"Jethro. Time to get up," Jenny murmured into his chest, jerking him out of his reverie.

"What? Why?"

"We need to go shopping and tidy the house."

"Why? Don't tell me your mother's coming and I forgot about it?"

"No, it's Ducky's birthday, and everyone is coming over for dinner and you forgot about it."

He groaned, "Everyone. As in DiNozzo and Abs everyone? 'Cos I don't want to see that."

"Yes. And Ducky, Palmer, McGee and Ziva."

"Victoria's not coming?"

"No, she's staying with her sister at the moment."

"Well, that's a small blessing," he muttered.

"Jethro!" she admonished, "Don't be rude."

"What? She'd spend the first few minutes trying to ascertain if I am married, and the rest of the time swearing at you when she finds out you're my wife."

Jenny snorted delicately and slid out from the covers.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you last night, baby," he said.

"I know you are, Jethro, but that won't work on me. Get UP!"

"Oh, I'm up," he said, looking down his body. Jenny stood there, by the side of the bed, completely naked. She burst out laughing. God, he's insatiable. Didn't he get enough last night? He smirked and watched her walk into the en-suite, her red curls bouncing around her shoulders. Ten minutes later, she stepped out, clad in a very small towel, her red hair caught up in a sexy, messy ponytail.

"Go on, your turn," she told him, nodding towards the bathroom.

"I'd rather watch you get dressed," he replied, almost itching to rip the tiny towel from her lithe body.

"Jethro! Go, get in the shower. We have a lot to do!" she almost scolded.

"Fine," he said, sighing. He got out of bed, and Jenny enjoyed the sight of her naked and aroused husband. He turned and padded into the bathroom. Jenny watched him go, eyes fixed on his tight backside.

"Stop staring at my ass, Jen," he tossed over his shoulder, as he left the room. She laughed and pulled a pair of jeans and one of Jethro's hoodies on.

Seven hours later, the house was immaculate, and Gibbs was itching to go work on his boat. He shifted uncomfortably in his clothes. Why the hell did he have to wear a shirt, trousers and tie in his own home? He was sat in a chair out on the porch, nursing a glass of bourbon. A throat was cleared behind him and he turned. Jen was framed in the doorway to the house. He felt his jaw drop. She looked amazing. Clad in a tight scarlet dress that accentuated her curves in all the right places, and matching stiletto heels. Her red locks were a sexy, tousled mess, her eyes smoky, and her lips and nails a glossy red to match her dress. Jewels glistened at her neck and ears. He swallowed hard.

"Bloody hell, Jen."

She walked over to him, bent over, and pressed a swift kiss to his lips. He deepened it and pulled her down onto his lap, sliding his fingers into her hair. She broke away, breathing heavily, "Jethro, they'll be here any minute."

"They're not here yet," he said and re-claimed her mouth.