I do not own Harry Potter, or NCIS!

Trigger warning: Discussion of miscarriage.

Chapter 4

Ianthe disengaged herself from Gibbs, standing up on wobbly legs. "Oh my God!" She said in a panic. "I have never done that before! You must think I am a horrible slut, but I swear, you are only the third person I ever had sex with." She was trying to get her clothes in order, but she just knew she looked like a shagged out mess.

Gibbs startled slightly at that, but stood up, putting his hands out placatingly. "Of course I don't think that! I am not sure how things got so out of hand, but I feel like it was inevitable." He looked at his watch, and then tucked himself back into his pants. He was embarrassed about his lack of self control, but he could not find it in him to regret it. That had been the hottest thing that had ever happened to him! No, he didn't regret it.

"Let me go clean up a little. There is a half bath down the hall, if you want to freshen up." Ianthe said. She could feel his come leaking out of her, and that reminded her that they had not even thought of protection. That was not like her at all, and thankfully she was on the pill to regulate her cycle. She rushed up the stairs, and used a wash cloth to clean herself up. She brushed her hair, and pulled it up into a ponytail. She decided to change clothes, into something more comfortable. She changed into a pair of lightweight sweatpants, and an old Gryffindor jersey that said POTTER across the back.

Meanwhile, Gibbs was slightly freaking out. Ianthe seemed disturbed at the fact that they had sex. He had to find a way to calm her down, or she might not want to see him again. They had also missed their reservation, and he was unsure if she would even want to go out after the scene in the hallway. He wasn't sure how to proceed. He cleaned up quickly, then sat stiffly on her couch. He heard her light steps on the stairs, and saw her outfit. 'Well', he thought, 'we are definitely not going out.' She looked adorable, though.

"I hope you don't mind, but I thought maybe I could fix us something to eat, here. That way we could talk freely." She said nervously, biting her lip.

"That's fine. I could help?" Gibbs said.

"You can chop vegetables for a salad." She said, starting to pull ingredients out. "Is Spagetti Carbonara ok? It is pretty quick, and I am starving." Ianthe asked, pulling out a bowl for the salad.

"Sounds delicious. Do you cook often?" Gibbs asked. He started slicing cucumbers, and watching her dance gracefully around the kitchen.

She smiled. "All the time. I love cooking and baking. I would have probably become a chef if I did not get into law enforcement." She said, adding a large amount of salt into the pasta pot. The scent of bacon cooking filled the room, causing Gibbs stomach to grumble. She smiled at him cheekily, sneaking a grape tomato off of the cutting board, and popping it into her mouth.

He watched her in fascination. She never measured anything, and looked completely at ease. "Do you cook a lot of Italian?" He asked. He had never known anyone who kept fresh pasta noodles in their fridge, only dry.

"My ex husband was Italian, and his Grandmother taught me how to cook authentically. Grandma Zabini died two years ago, but I never forgot her lessons." She said, tossing the mostly cooked pasta into the bacon and cream sauce she had whipped together. "I cook traditional English fare as well. I also really enjoy southern food. They are what I cook most often, but Italian is comfort food for me." She said, swirling the finished pasta onto the plates.

"Would you like water, wine, or coke? I also have root beer." Ianthe asked, after placing the bread and pasta on the table.

"I'll have whatever you are having. This smells amazing." He said, sitting at her dining room table.

She popped open a bottle of wine, and poured him a glass. She also set a pitcher of ice water out, and some glasses. They settled down to eat, and Gibbs couldn't stop the moan that escaped him at the taste of the pasta.

"Do you like it?" Ianthe asked.

"This is the best carbonara I have ever had." He said, swirling another bite onto his fork. They ate quietly for a few moments, enjoying the food. "So, what brought you to the States? Fornell said you were offered a job at INTERPOL as well?" Gibbs asked.

"I was. I wanted to stay mostly in one place, and it was getting a little uncomfortable at the office." She said.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow in question. "Uncomfortable, how?" He asked.

Ianthe took a drink of her wine, then cleared her throat. "Ah. My ex was passed over for a promotion that I received. We were already in the process of a divorce, and that made the entire situation more volatile. There was no doubt that I was more qualified, but some people still have a hard time with a woman being in charge in law enforcement." Ianthe said, giving him a look.

Gibbs just nodded. "Yeah. I know that still goes on, I see it occasionally." He said.

"The department became a little fractured, and since I had just come back from being injured in the field, there were noises being made that the responsibility was too much for me. Blaise -my ex- was the most vocal. He said I was 'emotionally comprimised'." She grimaced. "Like he wasn't." She mumbled under her breath, but Gibbs still heard her.

"What happened in the field?" Gibbs asked. He was beyond curious as to the circumstances involved in the end of her marriage, and her leaving MI6.

Ianthe pushed her plate away, and took a deep drink of her wine. "I was at a crime scene, and the bobby who was supposed to be watching my back had stepped away to talk to his girlfriend on the phone. I was photographing and cataloging a wall that was covered in blood spray. When I heard someone come in, I thought it was the patrol officer. It was the perpetrator." She said, lightly spinning her wine glass in agitation.

Gibbs closed his eyes briefly. That was a nightmare to contemplate.

"He attacked me, stabbing me in the abdomen. There was a struggle, which drew the bobby onto the scene, and he took him into custody." She swallowed, looking far away. "Blaise and I had been married for eight years at the time, and had been trying to get pregnant for three. We had discovered that he had a very low sperm count, and that it would be very difficult for me to get pregnant naturally. We were about to schedule our first round of in vitro, when this happened. Turns out, I had gotten pregnant naturally. I was four weeks along, and did not know it. We lost the baby." She said, and sighed.

"God! I'm so sorry." Gibbs said, and reached over to grab her hand.

Ianthe wiped a tear off of her cheek, and took a shaky breath. "Blaise blamed me for the miscarriage. Our marriage was already stressed due to the fertility issues, and this seemed to be the final straw. We went to counseling, but it did not help. The doctor had told me not to try to get pregnant again for a year, to let my body heal. He put me on birth control pills, and Blaise saw this as my final betrayal." She said. "He became very cruel, and said that I was glad our child had died. I filed for divorce the next day." Ianthe finished, drinking the last of her wine.

"What a prick! You did not deserve that. It was not your fault, you know that right?" Gibbs said, looking her square in the eye.

Ianthe smiled at him. "It took a little while, but I do. When I was offered a job at the FBI, I decided it would be better for my department, and myself, if I took it." She smirked. "Blaise did not get the promotion after I left, either." She said, looking slightly smug.

Gibbs chuckled. She looked so mischievious, he just had to kiss her. He leaned forward, and captured her mouth. She tasted of Shiraz, and bacon. He pulled away before he could get carried away again. His eyes searched her face. "I know that this has started slightly backwards, but I would really like to see you again." He said, lightly stroking her cheek.

Ianthe shivered. "I guess I could let you take me out, as long as we actually make it this time." She said, wryly.

"We will. I won't lose control like that again." He said. 'At least I hope I don't.' Gibbs thought. When it came to Ianthe Potter, however, all bet's were off.