AN - Many apologies for the long break between updates. There's far too much to go into any detail but let me just say that I hate cancer with a passion. In the last two months it has affected 3 people very close to me, taking the life of one of them. It has taken some time to get my head back into writing but I think I'm ready to embrace these fantasy worlds once again.
Thanks for all the reviews, facebook messages and PMs asking about the stories. It's been hard to reply due to the personal nature of my absence but I'm sure you understand.
I hope you enjoy this chapter. I had fun writing it. I will hopefully update An Australian Adventure soon.
I look forward, as always, to hearing your thoughts. Thanks.
Chapter 4
"So, how's your head, Shepard?"
Jenny looked up from her computer screen and fixed Stan with a look of bewilderment.
"What?" she asked, when no further explanation was offered.
"Your head?" repeated Stan. "How many stars did you see after that little display back at the crime scene?"
Suddenly realizing what he was referring to, Jenny rolled her eyes and returned her gaze to the document she had been reading on her screen.
"Oh come on, Shepard," teased Stan. "We're all family here, you can share."
Jenny scoffed quietly to herself.
"Is that why you waited until Gibbs had left for coffee before asking me?" she asked, still not bothering to look in Stan's direction.
"Well, there's no point in both of us being in trouble."
From the corner of her left eye, Jenny noticed Stan rise from his desk and make his way towards her.
"Hurts doesn't it?" he asked, stopping in front of her and leaning one hip on her desk.
She sighed loudly.
"I wouldn't know," she replied, raising her eyes briefly to meet his.
"What?" he exclaimed, standing upright and staring at her incredulously. "After what you did back there, not to mention falling on your ass in those ridiculous boots!"
She leveled him with a knowing smile.
"What can I say, Burley," she said, returning to the document on the screen, "I obviously don't require such drastic measures as you."
Stan opened his mouth to reply but was cut short by the telltale 'ding' of the elevator. Scrambling back to his desk, he quickly pulled the file he'd been working on closer to him and redirected his attention to the current case.
Shaking her head at Stan's reaction to Gibbs entering the squad room, Jenny returned her gaze to the computer screen. She tried, once again to focus on the document she had open before her but found she was distracted by Burley's words. If she were honest with herself, she'd half expected to be on the receiving end of a hard head slap, having seen Stan flinch more times than she cared to count. It did appear to be Gibbs' favorite way of dealing with most infractions from absent-minded daydreaming to blatant disrespect. When the elevator doors had closed, she'd mentally prepared herself for the stinging slap along with the subsequent mouthful she was going to inflict on Gibbs and, had to admit, was surprised when it never came. Not that she had wanted it. She found the action distasteful to say the least.
Having lost her mother at a young age, she'd been raised by a loving and attentive father who, on the very rare occasions he'd found physical discipline necessary, had only ever spanked her bottom. Her education had consisted of all-girl private schools where, despite the looming presence of a wooden paddle, Jenny had never been on the receiving end of such a harsh punishment. It had only been in her mid teenage years, when she'd started socializing with the boys from the neighboring schools, she'd witnessed the 'back of the head salute' as it had been described by her first boyfriend. She had, of course, seen it in action many times since then, but it always sent a shiver of disdain down her back. The practice was, in her eyes, unnecessarily harsh and, even dangerous, if Burley's reactions were anything to go by. Sometimes, the sheer crack of Gibbs' palm meeting Stan's head had Jenny flinching in sympathy and, more often than not, she was surprised the poor man could manage to string sentences together after a particularly hard whack.
And yet, there was something about Gibbs that sent her heart racing and her mind wandering. He never needed to demand respect as his sheer presence commanded it naturally. He emanated authority while maintaining a level of quiet gentleness and, while he would never be accused of verbal diarrhea, when he did speak his words were measured and meaningful.
Her document now totally forgotten, Jenny thought back to her earlier conversation with Burley when he had first hinted at Gibbs' doling out the customary head slap. She had meant it when she'd said to Stan that Gibbs didn't strike her as the type to head slap a woman. He was old school in many ways, a chauvinist, one who saw women as needing protection. And, as much as she cried equal rights and, rightly so, there was a part of her that admired that trait in a man. Well, if she were truly honest with herself, she more than admired it. She found it down right sexy, a complete turn on. Thinking back to their conversation in the field, the way Gibbs had ordered her to 'do as she was told' still sent her tummy flipping. The sternness of his voice had sent delicious waves of warmth through her very core and created in her a need to hear that tone again. And she'd received her wish less than an hour later in the elevator. She only hoped she'd managed to hide the way his voice had reduced her to a puddle of wanton desire but sadly, she knew the tell tale blushing had not been missed by his keen senses. And, oh that excruciating plummeting of her stomach as she'd passed by him, where, for just one second, she'd wished she'd been on the receiving end of that strong capable hand. Not on her head of course. No, her desire had been for a stinging sensation in a much lower region of her body.
Swallowing hard and trying to ignore the heat she knew was radiating from her cheeks, Jenny blinked a few times before shaking her head slightly and refocusing her attention to the document on the screen before her.
"Something wrong Shepard?"
The barked question took Jenny by surprise, causing her body to jump and her breath catch in her throat. Coughing violently, she grabbed at the water bottle sitting on her desk and tried desperately to quell the sudden attack while using the much needed time to come up with a reasonable explanation.
"No, I'm….fine…"she spluttered, clearing her throat before taking a few more mouthfuls.
"Hmmmm," he responded, not convinced for one second.
He continued to stare at her while she took a final sip of water and replaced the cap. Knowing her cheeks must be the color of beetroot, Jenny tried again for an explanation.
"I… er…think I caught the sun today," she offered lamely while returning her gaze to the screen in front of her, hoping the explanation would end the scrutiny.
Unfortunately, it only lead to more grief.
"Yeah, that was my next question," he replied smoothly. "Where's my cap, Shepard?"
Closing her eyes, she felt her shoulders slump. Damn! She'd forgotten about that.
Noticing he was still waiting for an answer, she summoned what little dignity she had left and said airily, "About fifty foot up a tree."
Hearing a stifled snort from her left, she didn't bother to grace Burley with a look but continued staring at her computer screen as if it contained the answer to life's most important question. It was only as the screen flashed suddenly leaving only a fading pin prick of light surrounded by a sea of blue, did she realized Gibbs had yanked the cable out the back effectively leaving her with no choice but to stare at a now blank screen.
"I don't think doing that is a good …." she began haughtily.
"Do I look as if I care?" he interrupted bluntly.
Resisting the urge to bite back with something equally as sarcastic, she chose instead to stare into the cobalt blue eyes with as much nonchalance as she dared without appearing insubordinate while she waited for him to continuing speaking. She should have known better. He was never one to offer more when an unanswered question still loomed in the air.
When, after several uncomfortable seconds had ticked by, she threw up her arms and said "What do you want me to say? It caught on a branch and because it was far too big, it flicked off my head and landed on another branch about fifty feet in the air!"
"So why didn't you retrieve it?"
Giving him the kind of look usually reserved for the very dim witted, Jenny rolled her eyes and muttered, "Sure, and have you chew me out for killing myself while out in the field. No thanks!"
Turning her gaze back to him, she was sure he was enjoying her discomfort which only served to rile her further. The hidden smirk hovered threateningly but, with the resistance typical to that of a well trained Marine, he kept a straight face and continued to glare in her direction.
Finally, placing both palms flat against her desk and leaning into her personal space, he spoke in a dangerously quiet voice.
"Do you have any idea how long it takes to wear in a cap?"
"No," she replied, managing to maintain eye contact despite feeling like a small animal about to be devoured by its predator. "But, I imagine, I am about to find out."
Continuing to glare at her for a further few seconds which, in Jenny's opinion felt like an eternity, he eventually lifted his left hand and slapped it down hard on the desk, the sound echoing around the work space. Without another word, he straightened and turned abruptly, striding out of their area and towards the elevator. Jenny jumped slightly as she heard his hand once again land forcibly upon an unsuspecting object, this time the elevator button. It wasn't until she heard the whoosh of the doors closing, did she finally take a breath.
Highly skilled in hiding her true feelings, Jenny drew back her shoulders and, with an air of complete indifference, she quietly stood and proceeded to collect the discarded cord before shoving it back in its rightful place. Hearing the satisfying whir of her monitor starting up again, she returned to her seat and once again busied herself in studying the document that was once again filling her screen.
"You are one cool chick, Shepard," remarked Burley, leaning back in his chair and placing both legs on his desk, crossing his ankles in an air of arrogance.
Despite the small smirk that formed at the corner of her mouth, Jenny gave no indication of having heard the statement.
"I mean," he continued, despite her lack of interest, "other than the initial panic when he first spoke…"
"That wasn't panic, I simply swallowed the wrong way," she inserted, still focused on the screen.
"Yeah, whatever," replied Stan, his eyes rolling at her attempted explanation. "Other than that, you handled that whole situation with a coolness not many would dare to show. I'm impressed Shepard," he added, placing his hands behind his head and leaning even further back. "I think you're insane, but I'm impressed!"
Sighing tiredly, Jenny turned to the agent, now positioned in such a relaxed pose he was nearly laying on the floor and, raising her eyebrows, asked, "Insane?"
"Yeah," he replied with conviction. "Most people try to avoid the wrath of Gibbs, particularly when they are, in fact, at fault, i.e. the cap," he added, just in case she was in any doubt of his meaning, "but not you. No, you actually provoke him further."
Sick of craning her neck in order to maintain eye contact, Jenny stood and made her way to the front of Stan's desk. Crossing her arms over her chest, she made no pretense of how she was feeling.
"And what was I suppose to say?" she asked, unable to hide the anger that was creeping forward. "He asked me a question and I answered it. If he hadn't made me wear the damn thing in the first place, he wouldn't have lost his precious cap. Any idiot could see it was far too big."
She watched as Stan suddenly righted his chair and scraped his legs from the desk. Straightening his posture, he continued to stare at her. Assuming his change of position was due to her intimidating demeanor, she continued with confidence.
"But oh no! The all great and knowing Gibbs has to make sure his point is made by forcing me to wear something at least three sizes too big just so he can save face!"
"It wasn't my face I was trying to save!"
The voice was low, dangerously low, and reverberated in her left ear, indicating the speaker was very close. Suddenly understanding why Burley had made the quick shift in his seating arrangements, Jenny waited for the fall out as she stood rooted to the spot.
But, none came. Hearing him step around her, she watched as Gibbs flung a new cap onto her desk before wordlessly striding back to his own desk and taking a seat.
Closing her eyes against her own stupidity, she was about to turn and offer an apology when her words were cut off by an outraged Burley.
"Are you kidding me, Boss!" growled the younger agent, rising from his chair and standing directly in front of Gibbs' desk. "If I'd even said a quarter of what she just did, you'd have smacked me so hard I'd be half way across the room staring into Matlock's team!"
"You still might be if you don't get back to your own desk," grunted Gibbs, shuffling the papers in front of him.
When Burley didn't move, Gibbs finally looked up into the younger man's eyes.
"You got a problem, Burley?"
"Yeah, I do!" snapped Stan, completely flabbergasted at what had just taken place. "I want to know what's with the special treatment."
Ceasing his task, Gibbs rubbed one hand over his eyes and glared at Stan. Noticing Jenny hadn't moved either, he knew she was also waiting for an answer. If he were completely honest with himself, he knew Stan was right. He was letting Jenny get away with attitude that would have had Burley seeing stars. Yet, despite how it looked, he just couldn't bring himself to give her much deserved head slap. It went against everything he'd been taught. And yet, it frustrated the hell out of him. He certainly didn't want his actions to come across as double standards and yet, that was exactly what he was doing.
Sighing deeply, he softened his voice and said quietly, "Just…just go back to your desk Burley. I'm not discussing this right now."
The look Stan gave him, made Gibbs sink even lower within himself. He'd avoided the question and, in doing so, inevitably admitted guilt to the accusation. The disappointment that cross the young man's face was something Gibbs didn't like to see, especially when he was reason for the look.
Watching as Stan turned and headed back for his desk, Gibbs felt his stomach churn. He'd not had a female agent working under him before and the few he'd worked with via the other teams didn't seem to be half as stubborn and pig headed as his new Probie appeared to be. Why couldn't she just do as she was told? Why didn't she cower and obey like every other agent he'd been assigned to train? And why the hell did she have to be so damn beautiful?
Wishing he could suddenly head slap himself, Gibbs pushed that final question away with as much force as he could muster. He was going to have to do something though. He couldn't let her get away with the constant attitude and disrespect she'd been showing so far. But that would mean going down official channels and, if there was one thing Gibbs hated more than unruly rookies, it was official channels. The time wasted in filling in forms, following through with warnings and reports, not to mention coming up with appropriate sanctions was something that made Gibbs's head spin. It was far easier and quicker to let fly with a well placed smack to the back of the head and his team knew it. Pacci and Davidson had known it, as did Burley. Hell, hadn't he learnt it from Franks, thinking back to the many times his own brain had rattled in his skull thanks to the ministrations of his mentor. But, again, Gibbs found himself back with the same denominator. They had all been men.
Frustrated with the ceaseless circle of his thoughts, Gibbs came up with the only conclusion. Coffee! As Stan pulled in his chair and made some attempts to focus on his work, Gibbs shook his head in irritation and, slamming the papers down on his desk, stood and quickly stormed through the work space, passing Jenny who was still standing next to Stan's desk, having not moved during the brief confrontation between himself and the younger agent.
Stepping into the elevator and looking forward to a few moments of peace and quiet, Gibbs was somewhat surprised when Jenny Shepard followed him into the small metal space. He was shocked even further when, having started the elevator, she slammed on the emergency stop and turned to face him once all movement had ceased.
Meeting her gaze with raised eyebrows, Gibbs waited for the young red head to speak. It was she who had initiated this impromptu meeting therefore it was she who could do the talking.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned heavily on one hip and glared at him with eyes alight with fire.
"Burley's right," she announced.
Not giving her any leeway, Gibbs waited for her to continue.
"Let's just get one thing very clear," she said, almost as if she were adding a disclaimer to what she was about to say, "I do not ever what to be on the receiving end of what you seem to think is an appropriate means of dealing with your team members. I find the whole concept of hitting someone on the back of the head to be highly dangerous. Do you have any idea how much damage you can do to someone?"
He was about to say that in order to cause damage there had to be something in there to damage in the first place, but his words were cut short when she continued without hesitation.
"That being said," she continued, her voice dropping slightly and her arms falling to her sides. "Burley has a point. Why are you treating me differently?"
He studied her for a moment. With the regulation NCIS boots now adorning her feet, she was no taller than five foot three or four. Compared with his own six foot two, he felt like he was being attacked by a pint sized hellion who seemed to confuse stupidity with bravery. And yet, her fearlessness and spunk attracted him like a bee to honey. He admired her tenacity despite it simultaneously driving him crazy. She evoked in him a paradox of emotions and it definitely unnerved him. Taking in the rich auburn tones of her hair which was pulled back into a single pony tail, the end of which fell in a gentle cascade down her back, he suddenly had a desire to run his fingers through soft strands. Not allowing the distraction, he returned his attention to the emerald eyes, trying not to think of how they sparked with fire when she annoyed, much akin to how they were looking now.
He saw her suddenly blush and knew she had noticed the way he was staring at her. Not one to let foolish mind wandering affect his concentration, he cleared his throat and leveled her with a curious stare.
"What do you want me to say?" he finally replied. "You're right. I am treating you differently."
Surprised at his admission, Jenny crossed her arms again and cocked her head slightly.
"Why?" she asked directly. "Because I'm a woman?"
Whatever it was she'd expected him to say, it wasn't what next fell from his lips.
"Yes," he admitted freely. "It's precisely because you are a woman."
Frowning in response, Jenny was left with nowhere to go. She had nothing to come back with. She'd been ready to argue, bombard him with examples, call him a chauvinist but now she was left with nothing more than a stunned silence.
"Well then," she finally said, gaining what little composure she had left, 'We have a problem. I am, as you can see, quite clearly a woman. That's not going to change, Agent Gibbs."
Using his title, she'd hoped to bring some distance between them but, without warning, she founded herself suddenly blushing again as she thought of how his eyes had virtually undressed her only moments ago.
"So I see," he responded lazily, unconsciously dropping his eyes to her chest before bringing them quickly back to her face again. Her inflamed cheeks told him she hadn't missed the distraction.
Suddenly feeling as if it were 100 degress in the small confined space, Gibbs cleared his throat and stepped back slightly.
"Look Shepard," he began, his no nonsense tone returning quickly. "I may be somewhat unorthodox in the way I deal with my team. I learnt it from my boss and I've found it works. But, I've only had to deal with men. When I was a Gunnery Sergeant, I came up with other ways to deal with the females I was training. However, unless you care to run laps around the building or drop and give me 100 push-ups, that's probably not going to work either."
He didn't miss the over exaggerated eye roll combined with a small huff of annoyance that escaped her lips.
"But," he continued more firmly, encouraged by the display of disrespect she'd just shown, "I won't put up with that kind of attitude either young lady!"
He didn't know where the 'young lady' had come from but it fell from his lips so naturally that, for a moment, he was unsure of how to continue.
In retrospect, Jenny suddenly felt her stomach lurch into a tingling somersault that took her completely by surprise. He had called her "young lady" and it had sent waves of delicious ripples through her core. While the term for many could be seen as inappropriate or even condescending, it held no such meaning for Jenny. When spoken from a man whom she respected and admired, such as one Leroy Jethro Gibbs, the phrase was one that sent her spiraling inward causing desire to flood through her and settle in that region of her body that held so much pleasure. In what seemed like a ridiculous notion to some, being called 'young lady' made Jenny feel loved and protected, secure in the knowledge that someone cared for her and was willing to make her accountable for her actions or words.
Gibbs stared at the young woman before him and suddenly he knew without a doubt what she needed. He'd been here before, only once, but once had been enough for him to notice the tell tale signs and blushes that meant so much more than the average person saw. Yet, despite his confidence in being right, he would still have to play this carefully. An assault charge was definitely not something he wanted to be facing. Therefore, he decided, he would let his words do the work. If she responded in the way he felt sure she would, his hands would soon follow suit.
Crossing his own arms over his chest, he looked down at her sternly and continued where he'd left off.
"I don't hold much faith in official channels of discipline. I find reports, desk duty and being benched just a waste of a good agent. And, despite the way you may have behaved so far, I do believe you are a good agent."
He watched as she listened in stunned silence and, when her head dropped in submission and her arms fell once again to her sides, he knew he was on the right track.
"However, as I said, I won't put up with your current lack of respect, your ridiculously childish behavior back at the crime scene this morning and your constant arguing when I give you an order. You are here to learn Agent Shepard and, like it or not, I am the one to teach you."
Uncrossing his arms, he allowed them to fall neutrally by his side. Despite knowing in his gut that this was exactly what she needed, he was still somewhat unsure about uttering the final words. The words which could lead to total disaster should he have gravely mistaken the signals he'd thought he was receiving. But, he'd come this far, he thought to himself, may as well finish the job.
"But, as you have so clearly pointed out, head slapping you is not the solution. Call me a chauvinist if you like, but it isn't in my nature to slap a woman on the back of the head. For whatever reasons, which I don't understand, it just doesn't feel right. In my opinion…"
Here he paused. This was his last chance to back out of what he was about to say, his last chance to change the direction of the conversation. But, as she slowly lifted her head and looked at him with those green eyes that smoldered trust and desire, he knew without a shadow of a doubt, he had to continue. In his own heart, he had to know if this was what she wanted.
"….women were blessed with a region of their bodies far more suitable for feeling a chastising hand."
The blush that crept up her neck and settled so adorably on her cheeks had Gibbs using every ounce of his will not to smirk at her obvious desire and total understanding of what he was saying.
"So, Miss Shepard," he continued sternly. "If I ever fall witness to you doing or saying something that would normally provoke a stinging head slap, you can be sure it will be a much lower part of your anatomy that will be feeling the sting of my hand. Have I made myself clear?"
Gibbs took a deep breath. There, he'd said it. He'd laid his cards on the table with no chance of being misunderstood. As the silent seconds ticked away in time to the pounding of his heart, he waited for her response.
On the other side of the elevator, Jenny felt her mouth suddenly relieve itself of all moisture. Unable to speak, she chewed desperately on her bottom lip, hoping for some form of verbal communication to return. Her heart was pounding relentlessly and she was sure her knees were joining the percussion ensemble. She'd only ever experienced one other man who'd spoken to her in that way and that had been many years ago when she was first discovering her own sexuality. And yet, standing here before Gibbs, she felt seventeen once again. Rushed by the feelings of desire and excitement, she invariably knew to where all that moisture from her mouth had disappeared. A flood of wetness pooled in her panties and her bottom tingled with the anticipation of just imagining his hand spanking her sharply. She knew her cheeks were inflamed but all she could think about was the desire to be draped over his knee receiving a matching pair further south.
God, she had to stop, she told herself sharply. This was work and Gibbs was her boss. She was here for one reason only and that was to avenge her father's death. Personal feelings and desires were not welcome. Therefore, summoning as much decorum as she could, Jenny straightened her back and, turning abruptly, slammed her hand on the emergency stop, followed by the floor to the squad room. As the elevator shuddered into action, she pulled back her shoulders and timed the lifting of her gaze to meet with his with the precise moment the elevators doors slowly opened.
Cocking her head slightly to one side, she jutted out her chin and raised an inquiring eyebrow.
"I look forward to seeing you try!"
Her words were laden with sass and completely betrayed her true feelings but there was no way she was going to let Gibbs know how much his words had rung true in her heart.
With her head held high, Jenny Shepard stepped out of the elevator and was relieved when her legs managed to cooperate.
With her back now facing him, Gibbs finally allowed the smirk he'd been holding back to fully emerge. He knew he had been right. Her lack of outrage, shock or desire to have him castrated on the spot, immediately confirmed his intuition. Stepping out behind her he easily caught up to petite redhead. Gently taking her arm as a means of stopping her relentless strides, he leaned down toward her ear and, with her still facing away from him, whispered quietly, "So do I, Miss Shepard, so do I."
Hearing the miffed, "Hmph!" as she tugged out of his grip, Gibbs found he was suddenly laughing. Realizing it had been a long time since he'd felt the desire to really laugh, he fully embraced the emotion. With his heart feeling a little lighter, he re-entered the elevator intent on eradicating any remaining stresses with a large cup of coffee.
