A/N: Work has made me lose track of time the last few weeks. Sorry for wait. This chapter is very much rated M.


They'd barely seen each other since she'd been at his house. It had been about two weeks—work had consumed their lives. They had at least been on better terms in the small moments they did see each other. But she still sensed hesitancy on both of their parts. She wasn't sure how he was doing emotionally with everything. She was questioning the sanity of them with thinking they could possibly raise a kid together.

Their behavior towards each other could be considered pleasant, even gentle, and it was strange territory—but it wasn't like either of them was going out of their way to see each other. There had been a few times it almost seemed like he wanted to talk, but then they let themselves continue to be swept away by work.

She had reached 13 weeks along, almost at the end of three months of pregnancy. She was actually starting to visibly show, and it was getting hard to hide that she was actually pregnant. She'd had to go on a shopping spree for new clothes, and it had been a frustrating trip. She didn't like most of the maternity styles, and it had been hard finding professional looking maternity outfits. She hated how her body was changing, and it gave her a headache to think about how big she was probably going to get by the end.

She knew people were going to be questioning her soon. There was no way baggier clothing was going to keep this covered up much longer. If it wasn't failing already, that is. She was trying to mentally prepare herself for the looks and questions she'd inevitably be getting.

She sighed and stood up from her desk, staring down at her belly and looking at how the clothing fit around it right now, making sure she didn't look too obvious. She hoped people weren't noticing, or maybe thinking she was just bloated or gained some weight. She wished she had a full body mirror in her office. She also wished she'd worn a skirt, because the pants were a little too tight at the button. She took off her blazer to try and get a better look at the way her shirt really fit around her gut, placing her hand on her stomach as she looked down.

Her door flew open and she quickly removed her hand as she looked at the intruder. "Jethro," she breathed out, rolling her eyes.

He smirked, clearly amused that he had caught her off guard. "Whatcha doin'?"

"I'm mourning the loss of my figure," she retorted, putting her hand back on her stomach and glaring.

She felt exposed when he stopped and ran his eyes up and down her slowly, taking her in. "Still a great view to me." With that he proceeded to shut her door and head over to her table, depositing the bag he had in his hand. She just stared at him with wide eyes, touched by the unexpected comment.

"Thought we'd try this again," he explained, pulling out various food containers.

She made her way over and looked down at the table. "Mexican. Nice choice."

He gave a satisfied nod at her approval and watched her sit, eyeing her stomach. He'd noticed she was getting a little bigger, but she covered it well. He felt like he hadn't really noticed until now, now that she didn't have that blazer on and her undershirt actually clung to her. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander, admiring her figure.

"Baby seems to be doin' well," he commented. He watched her unconsciously touch the tiny bump again. "You doin' okay?"

"Yeah, I've been good. Better, actually. Morning sickness is hardly an issue anymore. I feel like I have energy again." She speared a forkful of food. "Here goes what's left of my figure." She took a bite of her food, watching him roll his eyes as he took a bite of his.

She had left out the fact that among her changing symptoms, she had started to feel really…horny. She watched his jaw flex and took in the way his large hand seemed almost too big to handle the plastic fork. Had his shoulders magically gotten bigger? Must be the sport jacket…

She'd continually thought about the way he had drunkenly kissed her weeks ago, saying he needed her. She tore her eyes away, deciding to test out the rice and beans. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this meal?"

"I've been neglectin' ya," he said with a shrug. "Figured we should try an' find some kinda time to be alone. Talk."

"Good idea," she agreed, chewing thoughtfully. She had been wondering how long it would take him to finally talk about whatever it was that was on his mind lately. He seemed tense, and it was putting her on edge, having that paranoid feeling that he was here to give her bad news or something.

She decided she'd wait for him to get whatever it was out of his system. It hadn't gone so well last time, but she figured at this point they'd finally gotten a lot of it out of their system. They'd had their own space for a while now, and it was time they get some things out in the open—if her rapidly growing figure wasn't sign enough.

"Jen, I've been thinkin'…since that night ya came to my house."

She stared at him, waiting, watching him seem to struggle to open up as he studied his container of food. He shook his head, sighing in frustration, remaining silent. The seconds felt like minutes…

She snapped, going back on her plan to wait because she couldn't take the waiting anymore. She was so damn sick of waiting when it came to him.

"Look, Jethro, if you really don't want to be involved with this, you don't have to. I get it. It wasn't planned. Neither of us wanted this. I don't want you to be miserable and feel like you have to stick with me because of this."

His head snapped up as his eyes met hers, outrage written on his face. "'Course I wanna be involved! You think I'd abandon my own kid?"

The image of the name on his boat flashed through her mind and she felt like kicking herself. Her words had been stupid. Of course he'd want to be involved. He'd already lost a child before.

"I'm sorry," she rushed out, reaching out and placing her hand on his knee, which he glared at. "I didn't mean to…that was stupid of me. I just…I don't know where your head is at with this lately. We can barely seem to stand each other most of the time. I don't want you to feel forced—"

"I don't feel forced," he snapped. "I'm worried you feel forced."

She removed her hand and gave a frustrated sigh. "Of course I feel forced. I-I didn't want this, you know that. A baby is a lot—"

"I don't mean the baby, I meant…" He threw his hands up, looking away in frustration.

His inability to express himself was driving her nuts. "Meant what?! Just say what's on your fucking mind!"

"What are we, Jen?" he finally shouted. He pointed between the two of them. "What am I to you?"

He looked so discouraged and annoyed all at the same time—and it bothered her to see him so distressed over that question. That was what had been bugging him? She sighed. The asshole had been the one driving her crazy, making her wonder the same thing. He was so damn hot and cold all the time. She swore under her breath, holding her hand up to her head.

"You should have asked ages ago, Jethro," she said bitterly. "You drive me insane, acting like a complete bastard most of the time. Here I was wondering if I actually meant a damn thing to you, but you've been wondering the same thing with me." She sighed again, feeling like the proverbial white flag was being raised. They were both finally getting to the real point and preparing to reach an agreement.

"You mean somethin' to me, Jen."

His whispered confession had her looking at him softly. "We've always been so good at avoiding the heart of the issues between us," she whispered back.

He actually snorted with a laugh, nodding as he looked back at her. "Yeah."

"Look, I'm going to lay the cards on the table," she said. "You'll be the reason I end up in some insane asylum. You irritate me to no end and you push my buttons, and I know I push yours right back. But the feelings I had in Paris…they've never gone away." Shock actually crossed his face. "I wouldn't have gone through with this pregnancy if the father had been any other man. You're the only man I've ever…felt this way for."

He let her words sink in. He hadn't realized she still felt that way. She was the one who originally left him. Then she said no "off the job", and then she said they were just "catching up" or whatever the hell that was. He thought he'd blown his chances long ago and that she didn't really want him. Like he was below her league. And to be honest, he hadn't totally blamed her—despite how bitter it had made him feel. He knew he was a pain to deal with at the best of times. He knew he wasn't any good with women, and his history was a giant red flag.

"I have to know what I mean to you though," she whispered. "Because I don't know. I never have. I thought I knew in Europe…but then I realized I was being naive. I can't keep going on like this. I need you to talk to me, Jethro."

He swallowed, looking into her eyes. She deserved to know how much she meant to him deep down, but he didn't know how to express it. How was he supposed to explain that she'd been the only one since Shannon to make him feel? The only one who had meant more than just sex, companionship, and conversation to fill the silence?

He reached out, grabbing her hand in his fingers, thinking for a few seconds. He opened his mouth and then closed it, trying to find the right words.

"C'mere," he finally said, tugging her hand towards him. He wanted her to get out of her usual position in the chair and sit by him on the couch instead. She got up, seeming hesitant as she sat down beside him. He laced his fingers in hers and turned towards her, taking a breath as he decided on his words.

"I wanna be with you," he admitted quietly. "Be there for you—both of you." He brushed a finger fleetingly across her stomach before pulling back. "Can't stand the idea of you bein' with anyone else. I want you, and I wanna be there for our kid."

Her mouth dropped open, stunned. "Why the hell didn't you say that sooner?"

He shrugged, giving her a sad smile. Maybe because she deserved better than him. Maybe because he thought she'd moved on years ago. Maybe because he didn't know how to tell her.

"Not good with words," he chose. "Better with other things."

She was about to protest and tell him he was pretty damn good with words when he wanted to be—but he pulled her head close and then his lips were on hers, so she kissed him back instead. It was such a soft kiss, and she realized he really was better at expressing himself in other ways sometimes. When he pulled back, he bumped his nose against hers affectionately, and gave her a smile that made her heart leap.

And that was when she realized she couldn't stand to be physically separated from him for one second longer.

Before she knew it she was maneuvering herself to straddle his lap. He moved his hands onto her hips the minute she was settled and pressing herself against him, and she pulled his head to hers for a much more searing kiss. The minute tongue got involved he moved his hands onto her ass and groaned, squeezing his hands and tugging her closer against him. She broke away to breathe and he moved his lips onto her neck, gliding them down the expanse of skin leading to the dip in her shirt, moving one of his hands to cup her breast. She was the one letting out a groan now. She slid her fingers through his hair, enjoying the sensations for a minute before she pulled him back up to kiss her again. She ground her hips against his, feeling his growing arousal through the fabric of his pants.

A shrill ring sounded and she broke away from him, realizing with a start that Cynthia was gone and she would need to answer her phone.

"Shit," she muttered, struggling to get off of him quickly to go get the phone. She darted over to her desk, moving her chair out of her way as she reached to pick up the phone. "Director Jenny Shepard, NCIS."

She listened to the agent on the other line, glancing over at Jethro who was running his hand through his hair on the couch, seeming to try to get himself back to earth. She realized she couldn't concentrate if he was in view, so she turned her body around and leaned her butt against her desk, looking at the view out her window instead.

"How long is the op estimated?" she asked, responding to the phone and listening again. "Special Agent Mertzer's team? Yes." She twitched when Jethro came into view, sneaking up on her. He had a mischievous look in his eyes that she didn't trust, and he pressed into her against the desk. She had to work really hard to not make a sound and keep her breathing level as he kissed her neck and grabbed her ass again.

"How long do they think?" She was finding it very hard to concentrate with the way Jethro was molding her body against hers and doing his best to distract her. Her head hit his shoulder when one of his hands moved and cupped her over her pants. Her fingers were white as they gripped the phone. "Yes-I mean-no, no they did not." She heard Jethro's snicker and she batted his hand away, trying to push him away. He just moved his hands to her hips instead and ran his lips up her jaw.

"15 minutes?" she asked in alarm, pushing him away more insistently. He backed off, looking put out. "Yes, I'll be there. Thank you." She hung up, sighing in defeat and folding her arms across her chest. "Duty calls. I have to be ready in MTAC in fifteen."

"Need to know?" he asked, seeming as disappointed by the turn of events as her.

"Yes, but it's not anything interesting," she said with a shrug. "Op issues for a team stationed outside the US."

He raised an eyebrow, surprised she even gave him that much information. She normally brushed him off completely. "I can think of some things to do until then."

She laughed. "I'm sure you can." She gave him a sultry look, pressing forward into him, grabbing him by the buttons of his polo and brushing her lips across his. "I can think of some ideas too." He kissed her, but she only gave him a second before she pulled apart, pushing him away and brushing her hand down the wrinkles she put in his shirt. She patted his chest and walked away, going back to the couch. "My idea is eating the rest of this fattening food before I starve. I don't need my stomach growling in MTAC."

She moved her container of food by his and sat on the couch next to where he sat. She got a kick out of the moody way he walked back to the couch, glaring at the food as if it had personally offended him. "Trust me, you'll want the energy too. You have DiNozzo to deal with."

"Good point," he conceded, sitting down beside her, his hand instantly settling on her thigh.

She couldn't help but glance down at his lap, smirking at the sight. She was always grateful that for women, it was much less obvious and easy to hide.

They ate in silence, his hand warm on her thigh. She didn't realize how much she'd missed little things like that with him. He removed his hand after nearly dropping a spoonful of rice on himself, seeming to realize that eating his food with only his left hand wasn't exactly safe.

She shoveled her food down as quickly in about eight minutes as she could, without trying to look too desperate and gross in front of him. At least he seemed distracted by his own food. She checked her watch, shooting up and running to her desk to grab a file and put her blazer back on. She looked over herself quickly, brushing imaginary dust off her front, and grabbed the tiny makeup mirror in her desk to check her teeth really quick. The minute she deemed herself acceptable and had what she needed she headed to the door.

"You gotta couple more minutes," he protested.

"Thanks for the food, you're a lifesaver." She opened the door and was nearly through it when she looked back, making eye contact with him. "And should you feel so inclined, Special Agent Gibbs, you're more than welcome to drop by tonight with those leftovers."

His lip quirked up smugly, leaving her in no doubt that he'd be on her doorstep tonight. With that she was out the door and on her way to MTAC, trying not to smile.


"All I'm saying, is that with all the nerd power of yours, you could really be better with your movie knowledge, McHarvard. Your brain power is being wasted."

Gibbs rubbed his forehead, about to snap all their necks. He wished they would just shut the hell up. He didn't know why DiNozzo had to get into it with McGee all the time. He checked his watch, realizing he could send them home any minute if he wanted. He wanted them to get their paperwork done before the weekend though.

"Yeah, because useless movie trivia is more beneficial than bio-medical engineering," McGee objected.

"It is if you like getting laid."

"How does that even correlate?"

He blinked his eyes several times, trying to focus on the report in front of him. It really wasn't helping that they were now talking about getting laid. He had been trying desperately not to focus on that subject and the fact that he was going to Jenny's tonight. It had been a long few months.

"McGee has a point," Ziva chimed in. "Movies are not as good to a woman's eyes as a man that can support the family."

"What's the point of being able to support a family when you can't even get laid in order to have one?"

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked, making the agent squirm. "Finish your damn report."

He welcomed the peace that entered the bullpen again, letting his eyes wash over the words on his page again. He marked off on the page and moved on.

The peace had been short lived as seconds later he heard McGee yelp. He got up from his desk in a flash, about ready to slap DiNozzo into another dimension, enjoying the fear that rapidly lit up the kid's face—when out of the corner of his eye he saw movement up top. He turned his head, seeing Jenny exit her office, clearly on her way out for the night. She made eye contact with him, smiling as she made her way to the elevator up there. He tore his eyes away from her.

The whole team was looking at him apprehensively, waiting to see what punishment he would inflict on Tony. "Get outta here," he ordered. "Finish up after the weekend."

They all bolted up and grabbed their things, not wasting a single second lest he change his mind.

"Thank you, boss," Tony grinned, receiving a glare in return as the agent shot out to the elevator.

Gibbs turned around, glancing at Jenny as she disappeared into the elevator on the upper floor.

"Have a good night, Gibbs," he heard Ziva say.

"Oh, I will," he muttered back, not really paying attention, "You too." He tore his eyes away and turned back around to see Ziva giving him an odd look, seeing her eyes flash from the upper elevator and then to him. He saw a smirk flash across her face, and he quickly masked his expression. He sometimes forgot just how observant Ziva was.

"Night, guys," McGee said as he left, just as unaware as usual. Gibbs raised a grumpy eyebrow at Ziva, and she flicked her eyes back up the elevator before she gave him a cocky smile and turned around, following McGee out.

He checked his watch. He figured he'd give her an extra twenty minutes, just to make sure her detail was gone and she was at least somewhat settled at home. He settled back down in his desk, hunkering down and deciding to finish his paperwork off.


He didn't know what he'd expected when he got to her door, but it wasn't her opening it and hauling him in by the lapels of his coat and kissing the life out of him. He certainly wasn't complaining. He took it as permission, kissing her back with all the pent up frustration he'd been holding onto for months.

She broke away to breathe and grabbed his coat at the shoulders, trying to pull it off of him. He shrugged out of it and hung it up, turning back to her and pulling her into him for a kiss again.

"Come on." She grabbed his hand, pulling him up the stairs behind her, giving him a great view of her ass. As soon as they made it into her room he kicked the door shut behind him and she let out a surprised gasp as he hoisted her up around his waist. She held on tight, her lips meeting his as he carried them over to her bed.

He was careful about easing her down onto the bed, not wanting to be too rough. She pulled him down on top of her, and they both adjusted as they got comfortable against each other on the bed. He cupped her cheek, kissing her gently before he moved his lips down her jaw and to her neck, taking his time, brushing his hand up against her breasts. He stopped, making her sit up so he could grab her shirt and throw it off, unhooking her bra and tossing it aside for good measure before he pushed her down on the bed again.

She felt her breath shorten as his lips traveled down from her neck to the valley between her breasts. She rested her hand on his head, combing her fingers through his hair as his lips and hand wandered across her breasts. He made his way to one of her nipples, and she let out a sigh of pleasure as he brushed the tip of his tongue across it before closing his mouth around it, swirling his tongue against it, cupping the other breast with his hand.

It was when he moved farther down that her breath really caught, when he paused at her abdomen that she knew was bigger. She felt so self conscious. She bit her lip nervously and looked down at him, feeling paranoid that he found her to be more unattractive. She wasn't as young as she was in Europe, and she certainly didn't have a bulge in her stomach then either. Their last sexual encounter had been so rushed her appearance hadn't even been on her mind as much.

He placed a kiss to the center of her belly, brushing his hand across it reverently, looking back up at her so gently that she felt her fears evaporate. He moved his hand to her side and continued his downward path. When he reached the edge of her pants he popped the button and pulled down the zipper, sitting up so he could tug them off. She moved her legs, trying to help him, and he slid them off and tossed them off the side of the bed. He wasted no time in discarding her panties next before he knelt back down and moved his mouth to her upper thighs, making her shiver at the feel of his tongue on them.

He caught her off guard when he hooked his arms under and around her legs, anchoring her down and getting close—

She threw her head back and let out a loud moan as he went all in, pressing his nose and mouth against her and getting down to business.

She hadn't expected him to go down on her, and she had forgotten just how skilled at it he was. She'd been anticipating being with him ever since he'd left her office earlier, and she knew that anticipation had already gotten her somewhat warmed up. Add on her much more driven libido with her hormones lately…

She was gripping the sheets with both hands, having a hard time keeping her hips somewhat still, trying to catch her breath from the pure ecstasy of it all. She swore under her breath when his mouth moved just right and he hit a sweet spot, her hand flying to his head as she gripped his hair.

"Oh…right there, Jethro. Don't stop, please."

Her legs shook as he continued, and she couldn't hold back the needy whimpers and nonsensical sounds. She wasn't sure how long he'd been at it by this point, but she felt herself on the edge of release.

"Don't stop, don't stop, oh yes."

She let out a strangled moan, her entire body tensing as she fell over the edge. She whimpered, her fist relinquishing his hair.

He lifted his head, smiling in satisfaction as he watched her relax from the high. He pulled his shirts off over his head, rubbing them across his face before he threw them to the floor. He ditched his belt next and then leaned back down, kissing his way back up her body again. He relished the way she moaned his name in relief. She opened her eyes, and he couldn't help but grin at the way she looked at him.

"I forgot how good you are at that," she said with a laugh, blushing beautifully.

He watched her comb her hand through her hair as her breathing evened out. He let his hand wander across her breasts, kissing her neck again as he maneuvered his hips against her thigh, seeking some form of friction. He was painfully hard.

She pushed herself up, forcing him to back off and sit up as well. He watched her hand go straight to the button on his pants, popping it open and sliding his zipper down carefully. She shoved her hand into his pants, and he closed his eyes and groaned as she rubbed him through his boxer briefs.

It only took a few strokes of her delicate hand to get him breathing hard. He kept his eyes shut, feeling her kiss down his neck and across his shoulder. She licked back up to his ear, nipping it, and he felt her breath hot in his ear as she whispered.

"Do you know what kind of torture it has been since the last time we had sex? I couldn't stop thinking about you. Wanting you. Wanting to feel you inside of me again."

He moaned at her words, his hips thrusting up, relishing the way her hand felt—and then he realized he was going to be a goner in seconds if she didn't stop right now. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her ministrations. He pulled his pants and boxers down, attempting to kick them off as he pushed her back down onto the bed.

He cursed, his foot still caught in his pants, kicking them off more violently. The minute he was rid of them he pressed his body into hers, pushing her into the mattress as he kissed her heatedly. He lowered his hand, touching her again for a minute.

He looked at her, questioning with his eyes, and when she gave a desperate nod he didn't waste any time in aligning himself and pushing into her.

She whimpered, holding on to him stiffly, and it was almost more than he could take—his eyes screwed shut while he desperately searched for control. She was so hot and wet, tight—damn, she felt good. He backed off a little, feeling her grip relax more. He pulled her up a little by the hip, trying to ease the angle as he slowly pushed back into her. He knew with the way he slid in easier and the sound she made that it was better.

He gave her another minute to adjust, letting a hand glide across her skin as he kissed her. It had been far too long since he'd been able to appreciate the feel of her body against his like this. She put a hand on his butt, pressuring him forward, and he eased back and thrust into her again, not sure which of them moaned louder. He set a slow but determined pace that had both of them breathing hard.

He returned her desperate kisses, loving the way her hips felt against his. Her nails dug into his shoulder, making him groan, and she swung one of her legs up on his hip, easing his way into her even more. He buried his face into her neck as time ticked by, picking up the pace as he went deeper, went harder. The increasing moans in his ear were almost too much. He rubbed a finger against her clit as he went, not sure how much time had gone by, not sure how much longer he could hold on. She felt so damn good.

"Jethro, oh my g-ugh—Jethro…Jethro, I'm gonna come."

"Jen," he groaned back, slamming into her harder as her grip tightened considerably.

She made a desperate noise, and he felt her tighten and pulse around him as she came. He was lost in that instant, burying himself deep as his vision went white and he felt his release surge through him. He groaned her name in relief, holding her tight against him as his hips shook.

He wasn't sure how long he laid on top of her, sweaty and out of breath, but he couldn't remember the last time he felt this good. When he began to return to his senses, he registered her fingers drifting and scratching across his back pleasantly. He placed a kiss to her neck, muttering her name reverently, lifting his weight off of her and easing himself out of her.

He collapsed on his back beside her, resting his hand on her thigh. He felt her curl closer into him, going onto her side as she cuddled up to him and rested her head on his shoulder. He maneuvered his hand under her, wrapping it around her shoulders.

"I feel so much better," she commented.

He chuckled, tilting his head to the side and smiling at her. "Mmhm," he agreed.

"No, you have no idea. My hormones have been crazy lately. My libido has been haywire…I've been craving sex."

"Welcome to the life of a man."

She smacked his chest, glaring at him while he chuckled again. Comfortable silence fell on them. She ran her hand across his chest hair, and it was all he needed to drift off peacefully. She didn't want to tear herself away from him to go use the bathroom. She'd much rather bask in the glow of it all and just enjoy cuddling with him and drifting off. While she'd been perfectly fine getting away with it many times before, she'd also experienced the consequences other times, and the thought of that pain was enough to make her get up.

"Where ya goin'," he mumbled, reaching out and grabbing her arm softly, preventing her from leaving.

"To clean up," she whispered, leaning down and kissing him.

He opened his eyes, shifting and pulling her underneath him. "Maybe I'm not done with you yet," he growled playfully.

She laughed as he assaulted her with kisses. "After all that, we both know you're just talk," she teased.

He chuckled into her neck. He kissed her a bit longer and then relaxed, giving a dramatic sigh as he looked at her, smiling. "Fine," he relented, getting off of her to let her escape. "I'll just wait until you get back, then I'll show ya."

She smiled back at his cheeky grin, running her hand through his chest hair. "I'm sure you will."

By the time she came back he was asleep again, sprawled out on his back and his hair sticking up all over. She'd definitely messed it up pretty good. She got back into the bed and he shifted, pulling her into him and pressing a kiss to the back of her neck as he wrapped his arm around her.

They both fell asleep, enjoying the closeness they had missed for so long.


She bit her lip and moaned as he slid out of her, resting above her gently as he peppered her collarbone with kisses. He looked up at her, cowlick and all, and grinned.

"Mornin'," he said gruffly, giving her a self-satisfied smirk.

"Quite the morning greeting," she said, smirking herself. She combed her fingers through his messy, sweaty hair that was sticking up in various places, pulling him closer for a kiss. She felt pleasant goosebumps as his hand brushed up her side while they kissed.

Nothing had felt better than waking up to him kissing her. Nothing felt better than the morning sex that had followed. Nothing felt better than just waking up with him.

It wasn't like last time—where they had to awkwardly redress, where she had to leave knowing he was taking off to Mexico and possibly never coming back.

This time, it wasn't some way to scratch an old itch. This time there was commitment. There was the security—and simultaneous terror—of knowing that there was more to this. That they both wanted each other.

It wasn't like Europe either, where they were going at it like rabbits because they were in a whole different world with completely different identities. Where they were just letting loose, giving into the desires they had for months while blowing off the strain of the tense op they had just started. Where she'd fallen in love without meaning to, with no idea if he felt the same way.

This time, they were more settled in their lives. They were home in the States. She'd reached her career goal. He wasn't newly divorced and her boss. They were older and more sure about things.

Not to mention, the fact that they had a baby that, if the pregnancy continued well, would tie them together for the rest of their lives—whether they liked it or not.

"Jenny," he breathed out, cupping her breast, making her breathe in deep. He planted another kiss on her neck and then shifted off to her side, collapsing onto his stomach as he draped an arm across her. She could feel his breath hot on her neck.

"I need to take a shower," she groaned.

"Why? Neither of us got work."

"Because I'm sweaty and gross and I like to be clean." With that she shifted, getting up out of bed. "You can have it after me, if you want."

"Can always save some water and get clean together."

"Ha. You know as well as I do that wastes a hell of a lot more water in the end. It'll get cold and neither of us will end up clean in the end." She grabbed her robe and put it on.

"Hey," he protested. "Don't hafta put anything on, you're gettin' in the shower in a minute."

"I can't think when all I feel is you staring me up and down."

"Can't help but stare when I gotta beautiful, naked woman in front of me."

"Exactly," she said with a laugh, rolling her eyes at his mischievous little smirk. She tried to ignore how good it felt to have him call her beautiful.

She went into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door in case he got any ideas. She shrugged off her robe, looking at herself in the mirror. She sighed, never really enjoying the sight of the growing bump. She didn't know if she'd ever get used to it. She looked at how tangled and messy her short hair looked, grabbing her comb to brush the tangles out.

She also looked less stressed than she had in days though. She felt like she was almost glowing. Perhaps she was just projecting her more satisfied emotional feelings onto the way she looked.

"Jethro," she hissed under her breath, noticing a red mark on her neck. She got closer to the mirror to inspect it, sighing. It was either makeup or turtlenecks for the next few days. She hoped she'd left a good one on him.

She ran her finger across the mark, thinking about how gentle and attentive he had been to her last night. It wasn't rushed and desperate like it had been months ago. It wasn't merely them seeking some quick release and then going on with their lives. He'd taken his time getting to know her body again, almost worshipping her. He'd been so tender and loving. She smiled a little, rolling her eyes at herself for being so sappy and turned to the shower.

She used her time in the hot shower to think about the turn of events. Having him insist that he wanted to be there, to help with everything, made her feel a lot more at ease with everything. But it also made things seem more complicated. She needed to inform SecNav that she was going to have to take maternity leave, and she needed to do it as soon as possible. She knew people were going to be asking about her pregnancy soon. She was sure if she and Jethro got in a close relationship again that people would start to notice. She didn't even want to think about the complications that would ensue since she was his boss. Inner work relationships could be dealt with easily at some levels—but between the Director and one of their senior field agents? That was probably crossing a line. She wondered if it meant she needed to inform SecNav as to who the father was before that blew up in her face…

That opened up a whole can of worms she didn't want to think about. Would her job be more in jeopardy if she told them now, or if they found out later? Did it even really matter? She ran a whole agency, not just his team. She figured it wasn't really the business of anyone else in the first place. She and Jethro could be professional. No one else really needed to know. Work was work. Their personal lives shouldn't be interfering.

The real question was, were they even in a solid relationship? What if something bad happened with the pregnancy, and it made their relationship even worse? What if he changed his mind later? What if she changed her mind?

She closed her eyes, willing the thoughts away. It was too much for now. Things were too new between them again. For now, she should just enjoy that they were on good terms.

Really good, hot terms…involving his large hands, broad shoulders, and big—

"Jennifer," she chastised herself, rolling her eyes. She let the hot water run down her face and head again, pretending it could wash away her blush and the sinful thoughts in her head.

As soon as she hopped out of the shower she dried off with a towel and ran a brush through her hair. She slipped the robe back on and opened the door, smiling when she realized Jethro had fallen asleep again. He was on his stomach, spread out, his head on her pillow. She wandered to the bed, admiring the view since the sheet only covered part of his legs and half of his ass. She'd always liked his strong looking build. He wasn't ripped by any means, but he did keep fit. Add on the hair that covered him and he was a pretty manly guy.

She looked down at the floor, wondering if she wanted to steal his undershirt or the polo. She decided on the white shirt, and then went to her drawer and grabbed the black lace panties, knowing they'd drive him a little crazy.

She went over to the bed and leaned down, kissing his nose to wake him up. He peered open an eyelid. "Shower is open. You can use my shampoo and soap if you want. I'm going to get breakfast."

He gave a grunt in acknowledgment, waking up more and yawning. She left him stretching in the bed, wandering downstairs to the kitchen. Noemi always kept things pretty stocked.

She started the coffee for him, hearing the distant sound of the shower upstairs turn on. She tried to remember the last time he'd showered in her house in the morning. Sometime during a break between their last ops in Europe…was it before Serbia? She shrugged, realizing it really didn't matter. Plus, counting the years always made her feel old.

She went about grabbing some eggs and bacon in the fridge, deciding to grab some frozen sausage links in the freezer for good measure. She was sure he was starved at this point. It wasn't often she cooked. She ate a lot of salads and takeout food from various places for lunches during work. She skipped meals on occasion because of work. Noemi would make her dinner when she was going to get home at a decent hour, but she never made it a point to be home at a decent hour—much like the man showering upstairs. Noemi had weekends off, which was her typical time off work as well, so that was when she had time to cook if she was in the mood. She never got fancy, and easy to eat food that didn't require much preparation or cooking was high on her list.

She tried to ignore the feeling that she wanted to make a good impression for him this morning as she flipped the eggs frying in the pan. She heard the unmistakable sound of someone walking down the stairs and smiled, trying to act normal. She saw him stop at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning against the doorway, clad in his polo and work pants again.

"So that's where my undershirt went."

"Hm," she acknowledged, smirking.

He approached her and she went back to focusing on the food, scooping both of the eggs up with the spatula and putting them on the plate beside her. She felt him wrap his arms around her and he placed a kiss to her neck. She leaned back into him and he tugged lightly on the shirt she was wearing.

"Gonna need it back, ya know."

"You can take it off me later."

"How 'bout now? Maybe these too." He pulled the shirt up and hooked his thumb into her panties, tugging on those instead.

She scoffed, lightly smacking his hand with her free one. "How about you grab another pan and get that bacon cooked?"

"Forgot how bossy you can be," he snorted, releasing her and going over to grab a pan, setting it down on the burner beside hers. He tossed a strip in her pan too, bumping his hip playfully against hers.


It felt like Marseilles all over again.

They couldn't seem to keep their hands off of each other. Perhaps they were making up for lost time. Maybe it was just them releasing the years of pent up anger and hurt—and the sexual frustration they'd been building over the last year and a half.

All they really knew is they'd barely made it out of the kitchen after eating before they were all over each other again. They'd ended up tangled on the nearest couch, and it wasn't long before she'd been riding him like no ones business.

"You tryin' to kill me?" he groaned, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping up again.

"Me? You started it," she said breathlessly into his neck, her arms still wrapped around his shoulders as she straddled his lap.

"With the way you're dressed, what'd ya expect?"

She laughed, placing a kiss to his neck.

"And ya gave me that look."

"Look?" she questioned, pulling her head back and staring at him.

"Yeah."

"If looking at you is all it takes, you are going to have to get a job somewhere else."

"You know what I mean," he growled.

"I really don't."

"That look ya used to give me, in Europe." He avoided her gaze, looking down at his hand as he rubbed it up her bare thigh.

He didn't know how to explain it. Just that she looked at him in a way he hadn't seen from her in years. It was flirty, in a challenging way. Like she wanted only him. Like she cared.

He couldn't help but feel a sting from the bitterness of her leaving him all over again. He felt her hand go to his face, pulling him to look at her. She gave him a soft smile, her hand brushing across his cheek gently as she leaned in to kiss him again. He knew his body would be in no shape for hours, but still he possessively pulled her thighs tighter against him. He wasn't sure he could get enough of her at this rate. He felt like a starving man who had been given food again.

He placed his hand on the baby bump and then wrapped his other arm around her and hugged her back. He wasn't quite sure how to place his real thoughts, the ones that weren't high from all the sex. Just that this felt good. It felt…right. All these years without her had been a waste.