Having chopped off a majority of her hair shortly after becoming director, it had been a long while since Jenny had bothered with going out of her way to style it. She liked the pixie, it made her life easier in the morning and helped her be taken more serious in the office. It made her look older; more together than her normal curls.

But now that she had started letting it grow out, it was getting to the point where she could no longer leave the house without going out of her way to do something with it.

She had off handedly mentioned her desire to cut it again one night, hardly thinking anything of it. It was well past her shoulders at this point, almost reaching her collar bone and at times was much more a nuisance than she cared for.

He had been tinkering in his basement, starting a project of what she assumed would be another boat and she hadn't even thought he had really been listening to her when she made the comment.

But he surprised her - as he tends to do - with a gruff but oddly sincere comment.

"Looks nice the way you have it." It was half under his breath and he hadn't even bothered to look at her as he spoke, but it was enough throw off her train of thought for a moment.

"Do what you want, Jen." He followed up with, still staring intently at the project in front of him. It was a line she was used to hearing from him, whether it be work or home.

Not that she was one to let anyone else - a man, no less - have a say in her choices. She was too independent for that, and perhaps a bit of a feminist, particularly in her male dominated field.

Still, her choice not to cut it any shorter may have come a little easier to her after his comment.

He hadn't said a word about it when she came back from the hairdresser a week later with nothing more than a trim, though she could tell by the way his gaze lingered just a bit too long on her hair that he had at least noticed she had opted out of a drastic cut.

It was pulled back more often than not, whether she be at her own home or at his. It was easier to have it out of her way, particularly when she was staying at his home and didn't have immediate access to her arsenal of hair products.

He was long out of bed by the time she had woken up. Once a Marine, always a Marine she figured. He woke up around five almost every morning. And while she did too on weekdays, she liked to indulge in a bit extra rest and sleep until about roughly six.

Bleary eyed, she quietly makes her way to his bathroom. It wasn't a necessity but she liked to have some semblance of togetherness even this early in the morning.

Her hair was unruly, tangled from sleep and other things that led them deep into the night, and the one hair tie she had been wearing snapped in the process.

So it surprised her when she flipped on the bathroom light and found five hair ties and a clearly brand new hair brush laying on the counter, beside the toothbrush of hers that also found its way to his home.

She can't help but smile.

Ten minutes later she's emerging down his steps, hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. The welcoming scent of coffee hitting her full force and she's overcome with an immense craving for her morning fix.

"Mornin'." He greets, voice still a bit hoarse with sleep.

She hums in response, sparing him an amused look when she sees that mornings newspaper sprawled out in front of him on his dining room table.

"You know," She begins as she fetches a mug from his cabinet, "You can read the news on the computer these days."

He glances up at her, "Your point?"

She pours what's left in the coffee pot into her cup and rolls her eyes, "Get with the times Jethro, newspapers are going to be a thing of the past sooner rather than later."

He snorts, "Do you think I have a computer in this house?"

Jenny takes a seat next to him at the table, settling on black coffee as she doubted he had anything resembling creamer in his fridge.

Then again, it wouldn't be the first time she was surprised that morning.

"You broke my hair tie last night." She tells him.

"Didn't hear you complaining then," He says smugly, "and it looks like you managed just fine this morning."

She blows gently on her drink, "The brush and hair ties were certainly an interesting addition to your bathroom."

There's the slightest hint of a glare to his eyes, but she can see it's more playful than anything else.

"Those hair ties are ones I've found laying around here." He informs her, "You stay here enough, there's a toothbrush of yours upstairs, I keep finding your hair bands all over my damn house. I got you a brush to keep here."

"Because I complain about having to do my hair now that it's longer." She deduces, unable to keep the fondness from her voice.

The corner of his mouth twitches up in the briefest grin before he redirects his focus back to his newspaper.

"You don't like your hair in your face," He continues after a brief silence, "I'm not totally clueless about women, you know."

She snorts, "I would hope so after, what, five ex-wives?"

It was something she teased him about often, but it didn't stop him from tossing a glare her way.

"Four."

"Ah," She takes a sip of her coffee, "It's hard to keep up."

He grumbles something under his breath that she can't quite make out, some gripe about red headed women complicating his life no doubt.

She leans over and presses a kiss against his jaw, both as a thank you and a peace offering.

"I appreciate it."

He doesn't make a move to look at her, but she can see an amused grin grace his features as he continues to read his paper, and she can't but smile into her coffee.

It was the little things.