Jan 3
Many friends in general, one in special. – George Herbert, Jacula Prudentum
Gibbs put all his energy into sanding his boat. Jenny was out for the night, at an official function. At the last one, she had gotten fed up of his constant hovering, and had therefore banned him from attending the current one.
It was not his fault she had been fawned over by a slimy senator who needed to be reminded of his wife at home. It was also not his fault that he might have assaulted said senator a few minutes later – his hand had slipped and the senator had been in the way. Jenny had not seen it that way, and had confined him to his basement while other married men hit on her.
A floorboard creaked, but he did not bother to raise his head. If anyone wanted him, they knew he was in his basement. Whoever this was, they were pottering around in his kitchen, rummaging through his refrigerator. From the sound of the heels, he had a funny feeling who his visitor was.
The stairs creaked as she descended; her familiar perfume reaching his nose and making him smile softly to himself.
"I thought you might want to know that I survived the function," Jenny called to him as she crossed the room. "Snagged you a beer," she continued, placing one on the workbench and raising another to her lips.
"From my own fridge," he teased.
"They wouldn't allow me to smuggle the rubber chicken out," she countered, amusement coloring her voice.
"If you were still in the field, you would have found a way," he semi-joked, finally placing his sander down and reaching for his beer.
"If I were a field agent, I wouldn't have been there tonight," she smirked.
He considered for a few moments. "Nope, I can't beat that," he decided.
She laughed softly and he joined in.
"Hey, Jen?"
"What?"
"Like the dress."