A/N: By request, here is part two. I hope you enjoy.
Jenny Shepard was wildly disoriented when she opened her eyes and it took her nearly a full minute to remember where she was. As the events from the previous night crashed through her mind, she shook her head slowly, trying to clear a bit of the fog that filled it. She took a moment to look around the room her boss had allowed her to sleep in, and she frowned as she wondered why on earth a newly-divorced man would live in such a large house. Then again, her own house was spacious in its own right, so she didn't have much room to talk.
Glancing at the watch that was still on her wrist, she sighed when she realised that she had less than forty-five minutes before she needed to be up for work, and swung her feet over the side of the bed. She had no idea if Gibbs was sleeping, and when she slowly opened the door, she walked quietly down the hall to what she assumed was his bedroom. She decided against knocking, not wanting to disturb him if he was asleep, and opted instead to turn around, heading for the stairs.
A dim light was shining in the kitchen, causing her curiosity to flare up, and she made her way closer, keeping her footsteps light. Gibbs was sitting at the table near the far corner, a cup of coffee in front of him, and she was surprised when he nodded at her without looking up from the file he was currently reading.
"Morning."
"Morning."
"Sleep well?"
She shrugged, and he inclined his head in the direction of the counter.
"Coffee's in the pot if you want any."
Jenny smiled, reaching into the cabinet for a cup and as she filled it, she was distinctly aware that he was watching her. When she turned around, he gestured to the table in a silent invitation for her to sit, and she sank into the chair opposite him, crossing her legs gracefully.
"How do you feel?"
Taking a sip of her coffee, Jenny frowned as she considered his question. In truth, she wasn't quite sure how to answer and she sighed as she ran her hand through her slightly tangled hair.
"I...I feel like I'm watching a movie."
He frowned, placing the file he held on the table, and met her eyes.
"How so?"
"I mean..." she shook her head, annoyed that she couldn't find the right words, "I feel like this is all happening to someone else. Like it's not me at all, and I'm just the one watching it. Does that make any sense?"
He didn't answer and suddenly she felt like an idiot.
"It's like I'm on the outside looking in the window, and I can see what's happening, but I can't stop it."
"I know what you meant," he said quietly.
She smiled in relief and with a jolt, she realised how terrible she must look, wearing rumpled clothing, bruised and only the remnants of the previous day's makeup. She looked down at her coffee cup, suddenly very interested in the rich liquid, and he gave her a reassuring smile that she almost missed.
"Relax, Shepard. You don't look that bad."
She frowned.
"How did you—"
"I could see it in your eyes. Don't get me wrong, you look like you had the shit beaten out of you, which you did, but you still look okay."
She laughed quietly, causing him to frown, and she sighed.
"Is that your way of giving me a compliment?"
Gibbs shrugged, emptying his coffee cup, and he nodded his head in the direction of the door.
"Either finish that or take it with you," he said, indicating her coffee, "Let's go."
"Where?"
"Unless you want to walk into work wearing the same clothes for the third day in a row, you need something to wear. I don't think any of my clothing would suit you."
Though he would never admit it, he was secretly very curious about how the redhead would look wearing his clothes, but it was best if he kept that particular thought to himself. She nodded, finishing her coffee in three large swallows, and he looked at her curiously.
"If you drink alcohol like that, you're in trouble, Shepard."
She shook her head.
"Only on the weekends," she joked.
Remembering the night he'd had to give her a ride home from a bar, he smirked as he led her out the front door. She was certainly full of surprises, and he was curious as to what else she kept hidden in the depths of her mind.
As Jenny stood in her room applying makeup in a desperate attempt to cover the bruises on her skin, she was distinctly aware of Gibbs' presence in her hallway. After he had cleared the house, she had tried to convince him that he didn't need to stand guard outside her door, but he had silenced her protests with a single glare. She examined her face in the mirror, trying to pretend that she wasn't upset at the fact that even with her heavily applied makeup the bruises were still clearly visible, and she slammed the bottle of foundation on her dresser.
She very rarely wore much makeup, and she hated the suffocating feeling it was giving her now. Gibbs stuck his head around the door at the sound of her hand hitting the surface in front of her and he frowned.
"You okay?"
"Fine," she said shortly.
It was obvious that he didn't believe her, but he didn't question it. She picked up a soft cloth and stood to make her way to her bathroom. After she'd run it under some warm water and applied a bit of soap, she walked back to the dresser, studying her face carefully. She closed her eyes in frustration and shook her head slowly.
"Personally, I think you looked better without it."
Jenny jumped at the sound of Gibbs' voice so close to her ear, and turned around to find him standing directly behind her.
"Don't scare me like that," she snapped.
He shrugged and nodded at her.
"It's still true."
"Gibbs, I can't go to work without at least trying to cover this."
"Why? Decker, Burley and Ducky already know what happened. Hell, Decker's gonna have one hell of a bruise himself."
She knew logically that what he was saying made sense, but she couldn't shake the feeling of shame that she felt whenever she looked at herself. Her father had raised her to be a strong formidable woman, and the bruises on her skin made her feel weaker than she ever had before.
"You've got nothing to feel ashamed of, Jenny. You left him as soon as he hit you. You're in no way a stereotypical battered wife, and getting yourself out of that situation shows an incredible strength."
Jenny frowned, wondering how in the world he had known what she'd been thinking, and he gave her a smile.
"Show him that you're stronger than he is."
Returning his smile slowly, Jenny picked up the cloth and began removing the heavy makeup from her skin. She still applied her eyeliner and mascara, but did nothing to conceal the bruising on her face and throat. Though she was sure anyone who saw her would stare, she could breathe again, and to her, that was all that mattered.
Gibbs had never felt more proud of his redheaded agent than he did when she stepped off the elevator, her head held high and eyes straight forward, almost daring anyone to approach her. She'd chosen a pair of black slacks, paired with a navy blue shirt that complimented the paleness of her skin, and her signature black heels. Though he still fought her on the choice in footwear every day, today he hadn't had it in him to argue as she'd slipped them on.
Decker nodded at her as she sat down at her desk, and his eyes flickered between the two of them slowly.
"Morning."
"Morning. How's your head?"
"I feel like I drank an entire bottle of vodka last night."
She smiled apologetically.
"I'm sorry, Will," she said sincerely.
He waved her words away.
"It wasn't your fault, Jenny. How'd you get out of there?"
Jenny nodded at Gibbs and smiled.
"Someone shot him."
"Dead?"
"Unfortunately, no," Gibbs said suddenly.
The elevator chimed, revealing Burley carrying a cup of coffee, and when he took in the bruises on his colleagues faces, he frowned.
"Did we get a case? I mean, I know what happened to you, Red, but—"
"You missed the excitement at Shepard's last night, Stan. Should have been there. It was fun."
Burley frowned, looking at each of them slowly and turned to Jenny.
"What happened?"
"A party," she said sarcastically.
"It was a real rager," Gibbs added.
Though he knew they were all joking with him, Burley was unsure of how to respond. Jenny excused herself to get another cup of coffee and Gibbs headed to autopsy, wanting to make sure that they hadn't missed anything on their last case, leaving Decker and Burley alone.
"What really happened?"
Decker shrugged.
"I drove Shepard home, went in to check her house, and her psycho ex-boyfriend hit me in the head with a crowbar. When I came around, Gibbs was there, asking me if I was okay, and he told me to go home and get some sleep. No idea what happened after that."
"You think the guy was still there when Gibbs got there?"
"Probably."
"How did Gibbs know to show up?"
Decker shook his head.
"I don't know. Jenny probably called him."
Burley leaned closer, his voice low.
"You think they're sleeping together?"
Decker frowned in confusion.
"Who?"
Rolling his eyes, Burley made his way over to his desk, propping his feet up on the edge.
"Gibbs and Red."
"Nah. He'd never do that. Even if she is a redhead."
"Oh, we definitely are."
Burley jumped at Jenny's voice, nearly falling out of his chair, and Decker laughed at the shocked expression on his face.
"Who's doing what?" Gibbs asked as he walked around the corner, eyeing them curiously.
"You and me," Jenny said seriously, her eyes dancing with laughter, "Sleeping together."
Gibbs nodded.
"Yep. All the time. Why do you think she broke up with the cop?"
"I always did like a man in uniform," Jenny added with a laugh, "but that's not why I started sleeping with Gibbs."
Decker, thoroughly amused and loving the opportunity to mess with Burley, decided to play along.
"No, it was his way with words, right Jenny?"
She shook her head seriously.
"Don't be silly, Will. It was the way his ass looks in jeans," she paused, thinking, "His eyes aren't bad, either."
Burley was still staring at her with a look of complete disbelief and finally his face broke out into a huge grin.
"You guys are just messing with me. Very funny."
Jenny moved from behind her desk, stopping just in front of their team leader, and ran her hand through his hair.
"Are we still on for lunch, Jethro?"
Her hand dropped to his shoulder, running down his arm gently. He met her eyes seriously, using every bit of his willpower not to laugh, and nodded.
"Yep. I'll meet you at noon."
She rose up on her toes, kissing his cheek lightly, and walked away, disappearing around the corner. Burley frowned. Maybe they weren't joking. He couldn't imagine any other reason Gibbs would have allowed her to touch him, let alone kiss him like that. It took Jenny all of twenty seconds to return to the squad room and as she and her colleagues took in Burley's shockingly confused expression, they all burst into laughter.
"What the hell?"
"You really fell for it," Decker said, shaking his head.
"You mean...you're not—"
Jenny shook her head, leaning against her desk heavily as she laughed.
"Hell no, Stan. Gibbs is my partner, not my lover, you idiot."
"But..." he faltered, still confused, "you kissed him, and—"
"I've kissed you on the cheek, Burley," Jenny pointed out, "and I am definitely not sleeping with you."
He looked to their team leader, his mouth still hanging open.
"You let..."
Gibbs shrugged.
"Not a good prank if you don't believe it, Burley. Always be specific when you lie."
Burley was still staring at them in shock ten minutes later when they got a call about a case.
Gibbs was finding it difficult to focus as he examined their crime scene, and he shook his head quickly. Though he'd known that Jenny had been joking with Burley, he couldn't forget the look in her eyes as she'd moved to kiss his cheek. His mind was still reeling from the feeling of her hand on his shoulder, and he wondered if he had imagined the way she'd been looking at him.
"Shepard, secure the perimeter. I want those LEO's kept out of here. Burley, photos. Decker, bag and tag."
"Boss, how is this a crime scene when we don't have a body?"
Decker sighed.
"Haven't you learned not to ask stupid questions yet, Burley?"
"It's Stan, what do you think?" Jenny called over her shoulder with a laugh.
Gibbs couldn't stop the way his eyes lingered on Jenny as she walked away, and he had the strongest urge to slap himself on the back of the head.
"Long time, no see, Jenny."
Though her blood ran cold at the sound of his voice, Jenny gave herself credit for not freezing as she raised her eyes to the man in front of her.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was called. Cop, remember?"
She shook her head.
"I can't let you through. The area is secure. No one except our medical examiner is allowed through."
Jackson shook his head slowly.
"All we ever talk about is work, Jenny. Let's talk about us."
Jenny frowned.
"There is no "us", Chris. You know that. It's over. We're done."
"You don't mean that, baby," he said, taking a step closer to her, "You're just a little confused right now. I know you'll realise that I'm right if you stop to think about it."
Backing away slowly, Jenny shook her head again, trying to determine if she had enough time to pull her weapon.
"No, I won't. You don't seem to get it. I don't want to be with you."
She was trying to stall. If she could keep him talking long enough, she knew Gibbs, Decker and Burley would get suspicious of her absence and come looking for her. Before she could say anything else, Jackson's hand lashed out, connecting with her cheek painfully, and her eyes closed in pain.
"No, you don't seem to get it, Jenny. This isn't over until I say it is."
He reached for her and she swung blindly, scrambling backward as he moved closer. He grabbed her wrist as she swung, pulling her to him, and she turned her head away as he brought his lips close to her ear.
"You really don't want to make that mistake," he whispered.
She couldn't stop herself. Without even considering what would happen, she spat in his face, relishing the look of horror as he looked back at her. He slapped her again, harder this time, and when she raised her other hand to hit him in the side of the head, he swore, releasing his hold on her.
"Fuck," he muttered, glaring at her as she jerked away.
Jenny didn't think about the fact that she was at work, nor about the fact that she could have pulled her gun. She simply ran, trying to pretend that she didn't hear his loud footsteps behind her as he followed.
Gibbs frowned, looking around the area of the woods carefully, and when he finally realised what was wrong, he looked at Decker.
"Where's Shepard?"
"Securing the perimeter, boss."
"Shouldn't have taken that long."
Burley frowned.
"You think she got lost?"
Gibbs shook his head. He knew Jenny better than that. Her sense of direction and memory were impeccable, and there was no way she had lost her way going such a short distance. His gut was telling him that something was seriously wrong, but he didn't have the slightest idea of what it could have been.
Jenny gasped as Jackson's hand found purchase on her jacket, and when he forcefully turned her around, she swung her arm around again, her fist connecting with his face roughly. He shoved her to the ground, swinging his foot as hard as he could, smiling slightly when it hit her ribs. She cried out quietly, and he leaned down, grabbing her by the hair.
"Shut up," he whispered.
"Fuck you," Jenny snapped, still gasping from the pain.
She waited until he was close enough and she brought her knee up, hitting his groin as hard as she could. He doubled over in pain, and she crawled to her feet. She knew she didn't have long and wouldn't make it very far, but she had to try.
Taking off his hat, Gibbs ran his fingers through his hair, and frowned.
"That's it. Come on. We're going to find her."
He took off in the direction Jenny had gone, Decker and Burley at his heels, and the farther away from their crime scene they got, the stronger Gibbs' uneasy feeling became. A low shuffling noise reached his highly trained ears, and he held up his hand, signaling for the other two agents to stop.
"Shepard?"
There was no answer, and Decker exchanged a look with Burley.
"Shepard?"
The sound was closer now, but still Gibbs didn't move. If it wasn't her, they needed to be prepared for whatever had incapacitated her.
"Jenny?"
Just as he was about to take a step away, he saw her. She'd fallen to the ground, relying mainly on her arms to move forward, and as she raised her eyes to his, he could clearly see the fear in them.
"Gibbs." she gasped weakly.
He started towards her, but stopped when she shook her head.
"You need to leave," she said, her voice breaking, "Get out of here now."
"Like hell. What happened?"
"It's—"
"Hey, baby. Miss me?"
Jackson walked up behind her, pulling her roughly to her feet, and he kissed her cheek gently as he wrapped his hand around her throat. Gibbs raised his weapon, training it on the younger man carefully.
"Let her go. Now."
"I don't think so. See, this is between me and her. I don't appreciate you trying to stick your nose into something that's none of your business."
"It became my business when you attacked her. Let her go."
Gibbs frowned. If he took the shot now, there was no way he could avoid hitting Jenny. Neither Decker or Burley had anywhere near his military training, and if he couldn't make it, they never could.
"Gibbs, just go," Jenny said suddenly, "I can handle this."
He shook his head.
"Not a chance, Shepard."
"He's just going to kill me anyway."
Though he knew she was probably right, there was something about the way she'd said it that made him pause. She sounded as though she'd given up, and the Jenny he knew would have never done any such thing. What the hell was she thinking?
Even as she listened to her boss try to reason with the man holding her in his tight embrace, Jenny knew it was useless. Jackson was never going to let her go. One way or another, he was going to make sure of that. Still, a thought had come to her, and she thought that perhaps, if she could make her performance believable enough, she might be able to pull it off. She let her body relax in Jackson's hold, and raised emerald eyes to sapphire blue.
"Gibbs, just go. I can handle this."
His head shook, and his eyes never left her.
"Not a chance, Shepard."
"He's just going to kill me anyway," she answered, filling her tone with despair and defeat.
She could feel his grip loosening, becoming comfortable with her lack of struggle, and Jenny closed her eyes, slowly counting to ten. Taking a deep breath, she jerked her body free, pulling her gun from its holster and hitting his nose with as much force as she could manage. Jackson swore, stumbling away from her as his hands went to his face, and Jenny ran.
As soon as she was near enough, Decker and Burley reached for her, pulling her behind them, and Gibbs fired a shot that embedded itself just to the right of Jackson's shin. He went down, hurling a stream of curse words at the team leader, and Gibbs glared at him.
"Should have left her alone," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
He turned away, his eyes landing on Decker.
"Cuff him. I want him held in custody. Or leave him to rot. I really don't care."
Decker nodded, and as soon as his cuffs had clicked in place, he delivered a swift kick to Jackson's ribs.
"That's for hitting me with a crowbar, you bastard," he muttered.
Gibbs looked at Jenny, taking in every detail of her injuries, and he threw her arm around his neck. Burley did the same on her other side, and as they walked back to their van, he looked at his friend seriously.
"You alright, Jenny?"
She glanced at him, wincing as they walked, and nodded.
"I'm fine, Stan," she answered with a small smile.
Looking at her from the corner of his eye, Gibbs wasn't so sure.
Jenny sighed as she signed her name to the bottom of her incident report, and rubbed her temple tiredly. She winced in pain as her fingers brushed over the newly-formed bruise on her cheek, and she closed her eyes.
"Shepard?"
She looked up, meeting the piercing blue eyes of her team leader and he looked at her seriously.
"Conference room."
Nodding, she stood up, still moving slower than usual, and when she finally made it to the elevator, Gibbs hit the emergency switch, throwing them into darkness.
"You sure you're okay?"
She didn't answer immediately, and that alone was cause for concern.
"I'm not sure," she admitted, "Depends on what you're referring to."
"Let's start with physically."
She frowned.
"I think I'll be okay. I'm a little sore, but I don't think he caused any permanent damage."
Gibbs nodded, and she waited, knowing he hadn't finished questioning her.
"You're sure you don't want to stay with Decker tonight?"
"No. I've caused Will enough trouble."
"Okay, what about Burley?"
"Gibbs, if you want to keep Burley on your team, never ask me if I want to spend the night with him again."
"True," he smirked, "You'd kill him."
"In seconds," she agreed.
He was silent for a long minute, and when he finally spoke, his voice was softer than she'd expected.
"I really don't think you should be alone tonight."
She smiled, touched that he cared enough to think of her, and shook her head.
"I'll be fine. He's locked up, I have my weapon, nothing's going to happen."
He nodded slowly, and flipped the switch back on.
"Besides," she said as the doors opened, "I can always call you if something does come up."
She swept past him, leaving him to stare at her in quiet disbelief.
Though it had taken longer than he'd originally expected, Gibbs wasn't surprised in the least when his phone rang, and he picked it up slowly, taking a drink of his bourbon.
"Yeah. Gibbs."
"Are you busy?"
He frowned at her voice, and shook his head even though she couldn't see him.
"Not particularly. Did something come up?"
"Yeah," she laughed, and it occurred to him that she sounded nervous, "something came up."
"What is it?"
Silence greeted his question and he frowned as he waited for her to speak.
"Shepard?"
"I don't want to be alone," she admitted.
He smiled knowingly and nodded, taking another drink.
"You could always call Burley."
"Very funny."
Another long pause fell over them, and Gibbs ran his hand through his hair. Just as he was about to speak, her voice came down the line, more insecure than he'd ever thought she could sound.
"Can I come by?"
"Sure."
"Good," she laughed, "because I'm on your front porch."
She hung up, and he frowned. He hadn't even known that she owned a cell phone, much less knew how to use it. He had enough trouble with the computers at work. Then again, Jenny was brilliantly smart, and he supposed it shouldn't have come as a surprise to him. Soft footsteps reached his ears as she walked down the stairs, and he nodded at her as she touched down on the concrete.
"What if I had said no?" he asked.
"You wouldn't have," she answered confidently.
He raised his eyebrow at her and she looked pointedly at the drink in his hand.
"Got anything else?"
Nodding, he reached for the cooler he always kept in the basement and pulled out a beer, offering it to her slowly. She took it immediately, and as she tipped it back, he found himself staring at the bruises covering her. Knowing that he was examining them, Jenny narrowed her eyes as she swallowed her drink, and shook her head.
"Staring at them won't make them go away. I know, I've tried."
"It isn't that."
"Then what is it?"
"It makes me angry," he said slowly.
"Oh, sorry," she snapped sarcastically, throwing her hair over her shoulder, "Next time I'll ask to be hit where it can't be seen."
"Not what I meant. The thought of anyone hurting you like that," he paused, correcting his mistake, "of hurting anyone like that...it pisses me off. Seeing him touch you that way...you deserve so much better than that."
Though she knew he would have said the same thing to anyone in her situation, she couldn't help but pick up on the protective tone in his voice. She looked at him curiously, seeing the emotions behind his eyes, but unsure if she should call attention to it.
"Jenny?"
She raised her eyebrow in question and he continued.
"You know he's going to get out, right?"
She nodded.
"Good thing we're leaving in two months."
"Still...you should file a restraining order just in case."
"A restraining order is nothing but a piece of paper."
"Yeah, but if he violates it, I'll murder him," Gibbs muttered.
Jenny frowned, but said nothing. She'd noticed the way he'd looked at her that morning in the office when she'd pretended to be his girlfriend, but she'd simply written it off as his going along with her joke. He offered her another beer as she finished hers and she accepted it gratefully.
"Jethro?"
"Hm?"
"Thank you. For today. And last night. You saved my life."
He nodded, looking at her seriously.
"Not about to let you get killed by that bastard. If anyone's gonna kill you, it's gonna be me."
Laughing, Jenny knocked her beer back, and he found himself mesmerized by the way her hair fell over her shoulders. He wished that she would wear it down every day, though he knew her practicality would never let her. For his own selfish reasons, he was suddenly wishing that she hadn't come to his house, but he could never let her face this night alone. It wasn't her fault that he was having difficulty thinking about her in anything other than a sexual nature.
Not that he could ever act on it. She was his agent, his partner, and he could never ruin that relationship. No matter how much he wanted to.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked quietly.
He frowned. He hadn't even realised he'd been staring.
"Like what?"
"Like you're trying to figure me out. I'm not hiding anything from you. Not now. You know about Chris."
"Just thinking about your little prank on Burley this morning."
It wasn't an outright lie. He'd thought of little else since she'd kissed his cheek in the squad room, and she smirked.
"Can't believe he fell for it. As if we would ever sleep together. We're not each other's types. Except for my hair, but that could easily be changed."
"Don't," he said seriously, "don't ever change your hair colour."
She tossed it over her shoulder.
"Too much effort."
Typical Jenny. Practical almost to a fault.
"Besides, you're my boss," she continued.
"Hang on...how do you know what my type is and that you're not it?" he asked suddenly.
Jenny frowned.
"I just...I've met Diane."
"There's a reason we're divorced, Jen," he reminded her.
She didn't say anything, but her eyes locked onto his like a magnet.
"So...you're saying I might be your type? Assuming you even have one, that is."
Gibbs shrugged, pouring more bourbon into his mason jar, and she reached for another beer.
"Are you attracted to me, Jethro?"
He nearly choked on the alcohol, struggling to get his breathing under control, and she twisted the top off her drink.
"You gonna answer me, or not?"
He shook his head, and she glared at him. Interpreting his silence correctly, Jenny slid off the stool she was sitting on and moved closer to him, looking into his eyes intently.
"You are," she accused, trying not to smile, "It's because of my hair, isn't it?"
Gibbs still hadn't spoken a word, and before he could stop himself, he reached for her waist, pulling her closer.
"Ever think maybe you're the one attracted to me, Shepard?" he said quietly, his lips inches from her own.
She swallowed thickly, unable to tear her gaze away from his bright blue eyes, and he smiled.
"Admit it, Jen. You want me to kiss you. You're screaming for it in your head. It's killing you to be this close to me."
He leaned impossibly closer, moving so that his lips were touching her ear.
"Isn't it?"
Unable to stand it any longer, Jenny nodded, her breathing now only shallow gasps, and he fought the urge to laugh.
"Jethro?"
He turned his head slightly toward her and she took an unsteady breath.
"Kiss me."
Shaking his head, he looked at her seriously.
"I can't," he said slowly, "You're my agent, you've recently gotten out of a dangerous relationship and aren't thinking clearly, you—"
"Stop telling me what I do or do not want," she said confidently, "I know what I want, and I want you to kiss me."
"Jen—"
"Who was it that I called when I was drunk off my ass and needed a ride? Who did I call when the guy I tried to replace him with tried to kill me? Did it ever occur to you that he was nearly ten years older than me? In a position of authority? I don't have issues with my father. I was trying to pretend that he was you."
He was still dangerously close to her, and her hands went to his waist, refusing to let him move away. Considering her words, Gibbs remained silent, trying to figure out if she was making a rash decision based on the events of the past few days. She seemed rational enough, and he frowned.
"Jethro?"
"Hm?"
"I'm not going to ask you again. Kiss me."
"To hell with it."
He threw all caution to the wind, tangling his fingers in her hair as he kissed her, his free hand wrapping around her and holding her against him. As much as he wanted to, he didn't touch her face, mindful of the bruises still covering her skin, and when he finally pulled away from her, she smiled at him warmly.
"You still never answered me," she said primly.
He kissed her again, running his hand down her side gently and she moaned softly, her grip on his waist tightening.
"Yes, Jen," he whispered as his lips moved against hers, "I'm attracted to you."
His tongue parted her lips, sweeping into her mouth slowly, and she moved one of her hands to his hair. A low moan fell from her throat as he deepened the kiss, and he pulled away, not wanting to take this too far.
"I knew it," she smirked.
He smiled, relaxing his hold on her, but not releasing her, and she laughed.
"We might want to put a hold on this, though. At least on the physical. We do have a huge assignment coming up."
Gibbs nodded.
"Yeah. You're going to be my wife in two months."
"Lucky me," Jenny muttered sarcastically.
"Hey! Diane never complained."
"How would you know? By your own admission, you never spent any time with her."
"True. I'll try to make it slightly more bearable for you."
"I appreciate that," she deadpanned.
"You know, Jen...most married couples do still have sex, contrary to popular belief. You might just have to get used to the idea."
She laughed, stepping away from him and grabbing her keys.
"Who knows? By then, I'll probably be over you. After all, it's only been a year. Ask me again in Paris."
Jenny was near the top of the stairs now, and he nodded at her.
"Paris is the most romantic city in the world, Jenny."
"I know," she answered seductively, "That was my point exactly, Jethro."
She said nothing more, but the look she gave him just before she disappeared told him that he really didn't need to worry about her answer.
A/N: Wish Gibbs had kissed me like that...sigh...Anyway, I hope you liked it.