A/N: In which Gibbs and Jenny discuss their first time, Jenny struggles with being in Russia, and we meet Svetlana and Anatoly. Also, a shout out to my friend Shayne for allowing me to use her last name for Jenny's cover.
"I don't like it."
Frowning as she finished applying her makeup, Jenny met Gibbs' eyes in the mirror and sighed.
"What?" she asked exasperatedly.
"I don't like it," he repeated, nodding his head at her, "You don't look like yourself."
Realising that he was referring to the short dark hair, she laughed and rolled her eyes.
"That's kind of the point, Jethro. I'm not supposed to."
Though he knew she was right, he still frowned as he watched her. It was bad enough that her cover was completely different in Russia and she couldn't be as close to him, now he didn't even get the chance to see her fiery hair from a distance.
"At least you don't have to memorise a new identity," she reminded him, "You're just the American informant this time, not my husband. After all, Anya Machova is a pretty powerful woman, and there are probably hundreds of people who want me dead."
Decker and Burley had arrived a few days prior to them, and had spent the majority of their time making sure that Jenny's reputation, or rather Anya's, preceded her. They'd carefully painted a picture that few people would question, and Jenny hoped it was good enough to avoid Anatoly Zhukov's suspicion. The last thing she needed was for him to have reason to doubt her. Though they had originally planned to leave together, Gibbs had quickly realised that they'd needed a chance to plant the seeds of their cover to make it believable. Jenny hadn't minded the extra few days in Paris, and now she would have given anything to be back there.
A soft knock at the door caused her to frown, and Gibbs looked through the peephole silently.
"Burley," he muttered.
She nodded as he opened the door, and the young agent smiled at him as he walked into the room.
"Hey, boss. How's it going? Woah, Shepard, you look good. Almost...exotic, in a way. I like it."
Jenny laughed and nodded at him.
"Thanks, Burley. What's up?"
"Right. There's going to be a meeting tonight with Zhukov and his handler Svetlana Chernitskaya at 23:30. As soon as I get all the details on where, I'll report back. Shepard, you definitely need to be there, establish your credibility, and Gibbs, you're there as the American's bidder. It's very important that you let Jenny have the first bid. They need to see her as a force to be reckoned with so that she can get close enough to Svetlana to make the kill. They need to trust both of you. Don't give them any reason to doubt you."
Jenny nodded, and once Gibbs had given Burley the all-clear, they were left alone. Though she would never admit it, she was nervous about what she was going to do, and Gibbs gave her an encouraging smile as he walked closer. He laid his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to kiss her cheek gently.
"You're going to be fine, Jen. Just remember to breathe, and don't overthink it."
As she walked the dark streets of Russia, Jenny couldn't shake the feeling of dread that seemed to follow her every step. She moved at a steady pace, not fast enough to attract attention, but with enough authority that she wouldn't be questioned and when she came to the large house across the street from an old church, she frowned. She knew she was in the right place, but she wanted nothing more than to turn and run. Gibbs was behind her, a few blocks away, and she knew if she deserted him now, she would never forgive herself.
Knocking at the door, she waited no less than twenty seconds before it was cracked open, and one dark brown eye was staring at her. She gave her name, and when it opened fully, she stepped into the warmth of the building. After handing her coat to the man who'd answered the door, she was led to a spacious study, much larger than her own, and waited as she was announced to the couple standing near the fireplace.
"Madame Anya Machova is here."
The woman turned first, and Jenny immediately began trying to commit her face to memory. The long blonde hair would be easy enough to remember, but there was a harshness about her features that stood out in contrast to the softness of her hair. It made for an interesting combination, and the woman gave her a smile that did nothing to ease Jenny's worry.
"Good evening, Madame Machova. Svetlana Chernitskaya."
Her eyes roamed over Jenny slowly and she shook her head.
"You do not look at all like I pictured you."
"Looks can be deceiving," Jenny replied smoothly.
Anatoly nodded, laughing as he wrapped his arms around the older woman.
"She is right, my dear. You look like an angel, but you are as dangerous as they come."
He stepped closer, his dark eyes locking on Jenny's, and he held out his hand. She took it slowly, trying to ignore the feeling of disgust she felt rising within her, and he smiled.
"Anatoly Zhukov. It is a pleasure to meet a beautiful and powerful woman such as yourself. We are waiting for one more person. An American."
He rolled his eyes in disgust at the thought and Jenny nodded understandingly.
"Americans always have to be part of everything," Svetlana added in annoyance, "We would be much better off without them."
Anatoly shook his head.
"Not this one. He has ties to many arms dealers. He is valuable, much like Madame Machova here."
The sound of footsteps made Jenny turn, and she was so relieved to see Gibbs that she nearly smiled at him. She caught herself just in time, and nodded at him before turning back to Anatoly.
"This is the American? He does not look like an informant."
Anatoly laughed.
"True, but as you said yourself, looks can be deceiving."
His eyes lingered on her for longer than necessary, and Jenny fought the urge to roll her eyes. This was going to be a long night.
As Jenny watched the two men talk in the room, Svetlana pulled her to the side, looking at her seriously.
"Your accent is strange, Madame Machova. You have not lived in Russia all your life?"
Jenny shook her head.
"I spent time in France as a child."
The older woman nodded.
"Ah. That would explain your rather stilted pronunciation. How did you come to be in this business?"
Shrugging, Jenny glanced at her slowly, wondering what on earth was going through her head. She knew that the other woman was trying to feel her out, get a sense of who she was, but Jenny wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of rattling her.
"I like weapons," she answered with a laugh.
She stepped away, moving closer to Gibbs and Anatoly, speaking with enough authority that even Gibbs looked impressed.
"Not that this hasn't been fun, but shouldn't we get down to business? I don't know about you, but I certainly cannot stay here all night. If you have an offer to make, please do so."
Anatoly shook his head, laughing lightly.
"Not tonight, my dear. Tonight was merely an introduction of sorts. We will begin negotiations at a later date. Someone will be in touch. However, you are quite right that it is becoming rather late. I had not realised. We will let you both know when we are ready to make a deal."
He shook Gibbs' hand and the agent nodded at the two women as he walked out the door. Anatoly reached for Jenny's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her gently.
"Have a lovely night, my dear. I look forward to seeing you again."
Jenny knew she didn't imagine the tone of his voice, nor the jealous look that flared up in the eyes of Svetlana as she watched from her place by the desk.
"Good night," Jenny replied, "I will be waiting to hear from you."
Though she wanted to bolt from the room as soon as he released her hand, she forced herself to walk at a steady pace to the door. She retrieved her coat and as she stepped out into the darkness, she pulled it tighter around her shoulders. It wasn't a particularly cold night, but she couldn't stop shivering. Perhaps it had been because of the change in plans, or perhaps it had been the way Anatoly had been staring at her all night.
Rather than go directly back to their hotel room, Jenny walked the streets nearby, needing to clear her head. She already felt at though the entire situation was out of her control, and it wasn't a feeling she was accustomed to. The last time she had felt this lost, she'd been locked up in Chris Jackson's house, and the thought alone was enough to make her start shaking again. She hadn't thought of her ex-boyfriend in a long time, but here, she felt almost haunted by him.
She felt as though he had followed her here, even in death, and she shook her head in a desperate attempt to rid herself of the thought. Though she knew she was being ridiculous, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong in this country. Even the very air felt tense, and Jenny longed for the calm she'd had in Paris. She absolutely hated Russia: the cold atmosphere, the language, the suspicious nature of everyone she'd encountered...God, she wanted to get out.
Still, as she turned and made her way back to the hotel, Jenny reminded herself that she had a job to do. The sooner it was finished, the sooner they could leave. And right now, Jenny would have given almost anything to get out of this god-forsaken country.
When Jenny finally returned to the room, Gibbs frowned as she tore the wig from her head and tossed it onto the floor.
"You okay?"
She nodded silently, and Gibbs looked at her in concern. He knew she was lying, but something in her eyes told him not to question it. The night hadn't gone as planned, so he figured she was simply worried about the outcome of their mission. She began taking off her makeup, and when he wrapped his arms around her from behind, she gave him a small smile.
"What took you so long? I was starting to worry."
She shook her head.
"I just needed to clear my head before I came back. Too much going on."
He smiled, reaching for the pins that held her hair in place. It tumbled around her shoulders as he removed them, and he ran his fingers through the flaming tresses.
"You've always got too much going on in your head, Jen. I told you: you think too much."
She nodded.
"I know."
When she had finished removing her makeup, he held out his hand and pulled her close, burying his nose in her hair. She sighed as she listened to his heartbeat, and when she stepped back, she met his eyes seriously.
"How do you think it went?"
He shrugged.
"About as well as can be expected. You were great."
"I was so nervous," she admitted, laying her head on his shoulder.
"Couldn't tell. You did fine. I told you, just try not to overthink it."
She nodded, and he moved away, leading her to the bed.
"Get some sleep, Jen. It's late."
Jenny nodded, sinking down onto the mattress, and when Gibbs pulled her into his arms, she smiled. As long as he was with her, even Russia didn't seem quite so bad.
Gibbs frowned as he watched Jenny sleep next to him and sighed. She'd been tossing and turning all night, and now he was beginning to wonder if he should wake her. It was glaringly obvious that she was having a nightmare, but he wasn't sure if waking her would make the situation worse, or if she needed to be left alone. Finally, he touched her shoulder gently, hoping he was making the right decision, and he leaned closer to her.
"Jen. Jenny, wake up."
She moaned softly, turning into his arms, and he ran his finger lightly over her cheek.
"Jen...wake up."
Jumping away from him, Jenny's eyes flew open and he shook his head as she sat up.
"Shh...it's just me. Are you okay?"
She sighed, nodding her head and he frowned.
"You want to talk about it?"
"No," she whispered, laying back down, "it's okay."
Though he wasn't sure he believed her, Gibbs nodded, looking at her sadly.
"How can I help, Jen?"
She was silent for a moment, and when she moved closer, he frowned.
"Just hold me," she said quietly, closing her eyes as she began to fall asleep.
He nodded, pulling her as close to him as he could, and he kissed her forehead gently.
"I got you, Jen," he whispered into her hair.
He wasn't sure what she'd been dreaming about, but he hadn't seen her struggle this much since the aftermath of Chris Jackson's assault. He supposed it could have been stress making her more susceptible to her nightmares, but until he was sure that she was sleeping soundly, he wasn't going to release his hold on her. Probably not even then.
Nearly four weeks had passed since their first meeting with Anatoly Zhukov and Svetlana Chernitskaya, yet they were still no closer to setting up another. Jenny spent the majority of the time in their hotel room, a true testament to how much she hated the country, and when he walked into the small space, she frowned at him.
"What's that?"
He held up the bottle of vodka with a smile.
"Alcohol. Thought maybe you would like a drink."
She shook her head.
"No, thanks."
Nodding, he set the bottle on the bedside table, and he looked at her carefully. She was paler than he'd seen in awhile, and there was dark circles under her eyes. He knew she hadn't been sleeping well, and while he also knew that was nothing unusual for her, he still worried about her. A low knock signaled Decker's arrival and when he stepped into the room, he gave them both a smile.
"Got a meeting tonight. Just Shepard, though. Word has it that they want to meet you separately and try to turn you both against the other. Not sure how true it is, so play it safe, Jenny."
Jenny's skin was even paler than it had been moments ago, but she nodded nonetheless. Gibbs nodded at Decker and when he gave Jenny the time of the meeting, she merely nodded again, seemingly unable to speak. The other agent left the room after a few moments, and the team leader looked at the redhead seriously.
"Jen?"
"Hm?"
"You can do this. I know you can."
She nodded, and stood up, preparing to get dressed. As soon as she had pinned her wig in place, she sighed, staring at her reflection with a look that Gibbs could only describe as hatred. She didn't say a word as she walked out of the room, leaving Gibbs to wonder what was going on in her head. Her silence was making him nervous, and he very nearly followed her. Shaking his head, he reminded himself that Jenny was perfectly capable of doing her job. It was, after all, why she'd been chosen for this.
"Madame Machova...it has been much too long since you've graced us with your beauty."
Jenny smiled, shaking her head slowly.
"It was not my intention. I assure you."
He led her into the study, and she frowned at its emptiness.
"Where is Madame Chernitskaya?"
Anatoly gestured broadly.
"She will be here soon. Until then, let us get to know one another."
Laughing, Jenny shook her head and gave him her best smile.
"I think not. At least, not in the way you are implying. I am merely here to discuss a deal."
"Fair enough. You will come around in time."
As he began discussing their latest plan, Jenny found her thoughts wandering, and she forced herself to remember the lines she'd been instructed to say.
"There are rumours that you are in possession of several weapons of mass destruction, Mr. Zhukov. Would there be any truth in this?"
"Please, call me Anatoly. And I am not at liberty to discuss such weapons with you. I do not know you well enough."
He paused, walking closer to her, and he was near enough that she could detect the scent of alcohol on his breath.
"However, that could change if you are interested."
"Not at the present time," she replied with a tight smile.
"Very well. Svetlana and myself are looking to trade the weapons we have acquired in exchange for the proper funds. So far, you and our American friend are the highest contenders, but we would like to refrain from selling to an American if possible."
She frowned.
"You do not like him."
"It is not that. Relations with the Americans have been strained since the Cold War. We do not wish to have the United States government watching our every move. They would be instantly suspicious, and we would rather avoid the trouble."
Jenny nodded, and pulled out the notepad she'd brought with her. Writing a number down carefully, she passed it to him, giving him a soft smile.
"If the weapons you possess are as good as you say, this offer has the potential to increase. When I have been given the chance to examine them, we will discuss it further."
He frowned.
"You wish to see them before purchasing?"
"Why, Anatoly...you cannot expect me to buy something without seeing it first. I am nothing if not thorough."
She smiled at him, and when he leaned closer, his breath was hot on her skin.
"I would expect nothing less from a woman of your...caliber."
His lips brushed against her cheek, and she fought her every instinct to recoil.
"Unless there is something more you wish to discuss, I must be leaving."
Anatoly shook his head, his eyes roaming over her body.
"We are finished. Have a lovely evening, my dear Anya."
"Give my regards to Madame Chernitskaya."
As soon as she was far enough away that she was sure she wasn't being watched, Jenny wiped her hand over her cheek, trying to erase the feeling of his lips on her skin.
No matter how hard she wiped the cloth over her skin, it wasn't enough. She could still feel the press of Anatoly's lips on her cheek, and she pressed harder. The knock on the bathroom door caused her to jump, and she whipped around so fast that her hair smacked her in the face.
"Jen, are you okay?"
"Fine."
She turned the water on in the sink, as hot as it would go, and though it burned her skin, she rubbed the soaked cloth on her cheek with as much force as she could. Gibbs knocked again, and this time, she didn't move.
"Can I come in?"
"Sure."
The door opened slowly, and when his eyes landed on her, he frowned.
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to clean my skin," she muttered, still rubbing the place Anatoly's lips had touched.
"I think you've done it."
She shook her head.
"I can still feel it."
"Feel what?"
She didn't answer, too focused on her task, and he frowned as he stepped closer to her.
"Jenny?"
"I can still feel his lips on me. I can't stand it."
"He kissed you?"
"On the cheek. I feel so disgusting."
Her cheek was red, both from the heat of the water and her incessant movements, and Gibbs reached for her hand, gently taking the cloth from her.
"Enough," he said softly, "You've cleaned it."
Her head shook and she stared at the floor.
"Jethro, I—"
"Stop, Jen. It's over."
She raised her eyes to his, and he nodded, running his fingers over her reddened skin. Finally, she allowed him to pull her away from the mirror, and her eyes scanned the room as they neared the bed. When she found what she was looking for, she immediately reached for it, unscrewing the cap quickly. Gibbs frowned as she downed the alcohol quickly, and when she shuddered, he shook his head.
"You might want to take it slow."
Jenny shook her head.
"The faster I drink it, the faster I'll get drunk."
"Yeah, but you don't want to overdo it. You'll end up sick that way."
She took one final drink and passed the bottle to him.
"I'm finished. With as little as I drink vodka and as little as I've eaten today, I give it maybe ten minutes. I need to forget tonight, Jethro. I can't stand the way it felt."
He nodded, taking a small drink and then placing the bottle back where she'd found it. He couldn't exactly say he blamed her, but he still wasn't sure if it was the best coping mechanism. Jenny sank down on the bed, her head dropping into her hands, and he walked closer, placing his hand on her shoulder.
"Just breathe, Jen."
She tipped over onto the bed and she sighed as she ran her hand through her hair. Pretending that she didn't notice the red stands of hair that were clinging to her fingers, she stared up at him sadly.
"Are we any closer to ending this?"
He shook his head, sitting next to her and he pulled her head into his lap. He knew she wanted to leave, he wasn't too fond of the country himself, but there was no way they were close yet.
"It'll be awhile. Believe me, I wish we were."
She nodded and raised herself up slowly. He knew, just by the shine in her eyes, that she was drunk now, and she sighed, shaking her head.
"Russia sucks, Jethro."
He laughed and she rolled her eyes. Running his hand through her hair, he pulled her closer to him, brushing his lips over hers. Just as she deepened the kiss, there was a knock at the door, and Jenny groaned, laying her head on his shoulder. She stood up, remarkably steady as she walked and when she opened the door, she smiled at Decker warmly.
"Hey, Will."
"Hi, Jenny. How'd it go tonight?"
She rolled her eyes and he frowned.
"He didn't take the offer?"
"No, I gave him the offer, told him my terms, and now all we have to do is wait."
Decker nodded, and frowned when he noticed the slight flush of her skin.
"You feeling okay, Jenny? You look a little peaked."
She nodded, her laughter doing nothing to reassure him. He was reminded of the night in Paris when she'd been stoned, and he wondered if she'd accidentally gotten high again.
"You sure?"
"Definitely. Did you need anything else?"
"Um...no, I guess not. Good night, Jenny. Gibbs."
Gibbs nodded at him, and as Jenny closed the door, she threw him a look that was more than a little suggestive.
"Jethro?"
His name had never sounded so seductive, and he raised his eyebrow at her as she walked back across the room. She sat down next to him, running her hand over his leg slowly.
"Jen?"
"Do you remember what you told me in Paris?"
He frowned.
"About what?"
"About being drunk," she murmured, trailing her lips along the base of his throat.
His suggestion from that night came back to him, and he smiled.
"I remember."
His lips crashed into hers, the gasp that fell from her lips making him smile as he pushed her down onto the bed. Her hands wound into his hair and as he pushed the hem of her shirt up, she moaned at the sensation of his hands on her bare skin. Her movements were clumsy, rushed, and he pinned her wrists above her head.
"Jen..."
"Yeah?"
"Are you—"
Urgent knocking interrupted his words and he moved off of her, making his way to the door. Decker was on the other side, looking frantic.
"What's wrong?"
"Boss, there was an ambush. Zhukov was meeting with other bidders and there was a massive firefight."
"He dead?"
"No, but one of the men had this on him."
He held up a small flash drive, and Gibbs frowned.
"What is it?"
Jenny got up from the bed, thankful that her appearance wasn't too disheveled, and she reached to take the small device from Decker.
"It's a flash drive. Holds information. What's on it, Will?"
"Bank account info. Routing numbers, PIN numbers, names of clients, names of targets, etc."
She whistled and Gibbs' eyes widened.
"I'm guessing Zhukov didn't know about it."
"Right. That's going to be your leverage, Jenny. We need you to meet with him. Get him to agree to the deal. Do whatever it takes, Shepard. We need this to work. We can get this over with and get the hell out of here."
Jenny nodded.
"When?"
"Now."
Gibbs frowned. He didn't like the idea of sending Jenny in alone, especially not when she'd been drinking. Her inhibitions would be lower, and her reaction time impaired.
"Let me get ready, and I'll go."
"Wait a minute."
"Gibbs, we don't have time. Shepard is our best bet."
Sighing, he finally nodded and Jenny quickly began pinning her hair up, as she prepared to secure her wig. When she was ready, she nodded to Decker.
"Just give me a minute. I need to talk to Gibbs."
She closed the door and as soon as she turned around, she frowned at the look in his eyes.
"What?" she sighed.
"Don't do this."
"I have to. We need to finish this, Jethro."
He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her hard as he held her against him.
"Be careful," he whispered.
She nodded.
"I will."
Even as much as she hated the country, Jenny couldn't deny that St. Petersburg was beautiful. As she walked the deserted street, she decided to focus of the aesthetic of the city rather than the racing thoughts in her head. She was finding it easier to slip into the mind of Anya Machova with each passing day, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about it. For so many weeks, she'd been consumed by the need to finish this assignment as quickly as possible, like a fire in her blood, and now she found that as the possibility came closer, she was more determined than ever.
It drove her faster, the liquor in her veins making her more confident, and she knew, as she neared the old house, that this was going to end soon. One way or another. Gibbs was worried about her, that much was obvious in the way he looked at her, but she knew he would never say as much. It was better to pretend that she didn't notice herself slipping, that she didn't realise she was losing herself in this operation more and more each day. It was becoming more and more difficult for her to remember that she'd had a life before this, that she hadn't always been this way, and she shook her head slowly.
She'd become so absorbed in Anya Machova that she'd even dreamt of weapons, of striking deals, of double crossing arms dealer, and ultimately of her own death. Not that this particularly concerned her. All that mattered was that she finished this mission. As long as their targets were eliminated, nothing else was of any concern.
As she walked, Jenny could feel the small flash drive concealed in her shoe, tucked into the side of her boot and she smiled. This new information was going to save her so much time and it wouldn't take long for her to be able to make her move. She knocked on the door, and when Anatoly Zhukov opened the door, he frowned.
"Madame Machova. I did not expect to see you tonight. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"I have something new to discuss with you, Anatoly."
He nodded, opening the door farther and allowing her to step inside. Jenny glanced around as they walked, searching for Svetlana, and she frowned.
"You are alone tonight?"
He nodded.
"Yes. Svetlana is busy with a business deal."
They entered the study, and as the door closed behind him, Anatoly smiled at her warily.
"What would you like to discuss?"
"I would like to revisit the weapons of mass destruction that were mentioned earlier."
"Ah, my dear Anya, I already told you that I cannot discuss such things with you."
"Yes, but you also have codes that can be used to wire money into off-shore bank accounts and you are more than capable of hiring someone else to set those weapons in motion. I would like to discuss gaining access to them."
He laughed, shaking his head.
"What would make you think that such accounts exist?"
Jenny reached into her boot, pulling out the flash drive, and when she held it up in the dim light, Anatoly made to grab it. She held it out of his reach, shaking her head, and gave him a smile.
"Not so fast. Discussions first."
Anatoly frowned.
"It is not me you need to discuss this with. Svetlana handles most of that. She has the information you want."
Jenny nodded, still smiling.
"Where can I find her?"
"I am not permitted to say."
Taking a step forward, Jenny placed her hand on his arm, pretending that she didn't want to scream.
"Talk it over with her. I will be waiting to hear from you. I trust you'll make the right choice."
Sweeping past him, Jenny had almost reached the door when his voice stopped her.
"Wait. I will accept your offer. I can get you a meeting with Svetlana tomorrow night."
"Good. I'll be waiting."
Again his voice called out to her as she walked away and she inwardly groaned.
"What about the flash drive?"
Jenny turned, flashing him a smile, and placed it back into her shoe.
"All in good time."
Swearing in French as she walked back into their hotel room, Jenny leaned against the door for a moment before she slid down it slowly. Gibbs was nowhere to be found, and she wasn't sure she even had it in her to care. Her head fell onto her knees as she fought against the tears she could feel brimming in her eyes, and when she took a deep breath, she could feel her body shaking.
Gibbs' eyes narrowed when he walked back from the bathroom and noticed the redhead sitting on the floor by the closed door. Even from where he stood, he could see how violently she was shaking, and he moved slowly closer, not wanting to startle her.
"Jenny?"
She didn't look up, but she answered him nonetheless.
"Meeting with Svetlana tomorrow night."
He nodded, even though she wasn't looking, and he took a step closer, staring down at her.
"Did he hurt you?"
Her head shook and he sighed in relief. He didn't know what he would have done if she'd answered in the affirmative. Actually, yes he did. And it was exactly what they'd been sent here to do.
"I can't do this anymore, Jethro," she whispered, her voice hoarse, "I don't know who I am. I feel so lost, so wrapped up in all of this."
He held out his hand, his voice soft when he spoke.
"Hey...look at me."
Raising her eyes to his, Jenny took a slow breath and he looked at her seriously.
"Come here."
She took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet, holding her tightly against his chest.
"Oh, Jen..." he breathed, his hand running over her hair, "You're doing so well. I'm so proud of you. This is all going to be over soon."
"How soon?" she asked, her voice muffled by his body.
"Tomorrow, we're making our move. You're taking down Svetlana and I've got Zhukov. This will be over soon."
She nodded and he released her, walking over to the bedside table. Picking up the bottle of vodka, he unscrewed the cap and took a drink, handing it to her slowly.
"Should we pick up where we left off?"
Again, she nodded as she downed the clear liquid, and when she was feeling pleasantly drunk once more, Gibbs lifted her off her feet and tossed her carefully on the bed. Her hands pulled him closer, unbuttoning his jeans and she pushed them down with her feet. He lifted the hem of her shirt, tossing it onto the floor, along with the rest of their rapidly disappearing clothing. His mouth attacked her throat, pulling the smooth skin between his teeth and as he bit down, she moaned, her hand holding him to her by the back of his neck.
His fingers slid into her, causing her to moan his name, and she gripped his shoulder with her free hand.
"Oh, fuck, Jethro..."
He moved his mouth down her body, dipping his tongue into her collarbone, and she moaned as he twisted his fingers, hitting her in just the right spot. He was still moving lower, his lips deliberately skipping over where he knew she wanted him most, and he nipped at the inside of her thighs. He pulled her closer by her legs, sucking the flesh of her thigh between his teeth, intentionally using enough pressure that it would leave a mark on her white skin. He wanted her to remember this moment when she saw the bruise on her body.
His tongue joined his fingers, focusing primarily on her clit and Jenny's hand gripped the sheet beneath her so tightly that it hurt. She swore in French as her body jerked beneath him, and when he pulled his fingers away from her, smirking when she groaned in protest. He entered her faster than he had in the past, and she cried out as he rolled his hips against hers. Her name was a rough whisper as he buried his face in her shoulder, and she let her head fall back onto the mattress.
"Jethro..."
He looked at her, and without even needing to hear her ask, he brought his lips to hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. Her hips met his as he moved, and he swore softly. She moaned into the kiss, her hands tangling in his hair, and he moved faster, sensing that she was close. Just as she was about to fall over the edge, his hand found hers, entwining their fingers together, and he brought his lips close to her ear.
"Jen, look at me."
She looked at him, green eyes locking onto cobalt blue, and it wasn't until her climax hit her that she closed them again, her grip on his hand tightening. He kept his hold on her hand when his own release came, and he swore, her name falling from his lips like a prayer. As she tried to catch her breath, Gibbs kissed her forehead, still holding her hand, and she smiled as he moved to the side of the bed.
"Jethro..." she whispered, "I can't believe I've never done that before. Definitely better drunk."
He smiled, kissing her again.
"Happy to be your first time. Glad I could help."
Jenny was silent for a long moment and when she suddenly laughed, he frowned.
"What's so funny?"
"Just remembering my first time..." she said laughing again.
"It was that bad?"
She nodded.
"Super awkward. He cried after we were done, and he came in about five minutes. Needless to say, I didn't. It was horrible."
Gibbs laughed, kissing the top of her head as he pulled her into his arms.
"What about you? What was your first time like?"
He frowned, thinking.
"It was okay, I guess. She wasn't that into it, just wanted to sleep with me to say she had. It was some weird bet she had with her friend."
"How old were you?"
"Sixteen. You?"
"Seventeen. I was a bit of a prude back then."
He laughed, looking at her so incredulously that she could almost feel the sarcasm radiating from his body.
"You, a prude? I find that very hard to believe."
She slapped his arm lightly and bit his shoulder, laughing when he glared at her. It felt so nice to simply be able to be herself, the person she thought she'd lost, and she smiled up at him before settling more securely in his arms.
"Thank you, Jethro."
"What for?"
She sighed, running her fingers slowly up and down his arm.
"You reminded me of who I am. I've been so caught up in being Anya that I'd forgotten how to be Jenny."
"You're welcome, Jen."
He smiled, leaning down to kiss her, and when he turned off the light on the bedside table and hour later, he tried to pretend that he wasn't becoming steadily more worried about the woman in his arms.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed!
