A/N: By request for more back-in-the-day Jibbs, I present this one-shot. Hope you enjoy!

Ever since she'd been a child, Jenny Shepard had always hated the wind. It shrieked and howled, gave her major migraines, messed up her hair, and was generally just a pain in her ass. So it was no surprise to her that when she walked into work that morning, her head pounding from the cold air whipping around her, that they would get a call informing them of a dead body out in the woods. As she grabbed her gear, Jenny fought the urge to roll her eyes at Burley's eagerness, and Decker frowned as they stepped into the elevator.

"Burley, what's with you? Did someone put cocaine in your coffee?"

He laughed.

"If they did, it was Gibbs. He bought coffee today."

Jenny nodded, holding up her own cup.

"It's true. We must have gotten the ones with the downers, Will."

Glancing at their team leader, Decker smiled.

"Well, Gibbs? What'd you slip in our coffee?"

"Gonna be cyanide if you three don't shut up," Gibbs muttered.

In spite of the blinding pain in her head, Jenny laughed, causing Gibbs to glare at her. Not wanting to risk a Gibbs slap, Jenny had the sense to look appropriately chastised, and he nodded. As Burley practically bounced next to her, she finally did roll her eyes. This was going to be an excruciatingly long day.

"Shepard, photos. Decker, sketch. Burley, bag and tag."

As Gibbs examined the area surrounding the dead body, each member of the team set about their individual tasks. Each click of the shutter from Jenny's camera made her head pound even more, and she fervently wished she was at home relaxing in a hot bath. She rubbed her temple slowly, not noticing that Decker was looking at her curiously, and when he spoke, his voice was soft.

"You okay, Shepard?"

"Migraine," she said quietly, "I get them every time the wind blows like this."

He frowned.

"You should get that checked out."

"I'll think about it."

They both knew she wouldn't, but he nodded anyway. She took a step back, her foot landing in a hole on the ground and she stumbled, swearing slightly. Decker grabbed her arm to keep her from falling and she smiled in appreciation.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

As she snapped her final photo, Jenny surveyed their surroundings, looking for Burley. She found him near the edge of an embankment, looking over it curiously, and she frowned.

"What's he found?"

Decker followed her gaze and shook his head.

"Knowing Burley, something disgusting."

The wind whipped around them, sending Jenny's hat flying from her head and she groaned, reaching down to pick it up.

"God, I hate the wind," she muttered.

"Scared of tornadoes, Jen?"

She glared at Gibbs, placing her hat back on her head and sighed.

"How many times am I going to have to tell you not to call me that?"

He shrugged, and Decker laughed.

"He's trying to annoy you, Shepard. He called Burley "Steve" for months when he started. Once you accept it, it loses the fun."

"Remind me to call Burley "Steve" the next time he gets on my nerves," Jenny remarked.

"So, in the next five minutes? You got it, Jenny."

Glaring at her friend, Jenny shook her head and turned to their team leader.

"I think we're done here. Not much we can do until Ducky gets the body back."

He nodded, and took the camera from her.

"I'll take this, you guys make sure Burley didn't miss anything."

Jenny nodded, trying her best to ignore the jolt of electricity that had passed through her fingers as Gibbs had taken the camera from her hands. She stepped away from them, closely examining the ground and Burley's voice made her look up.

"Hey, Decker! Red! Think we might have another body over here!"

The embankment he had been standing on shifted under his weight, and the sudden gust of wind caused him to stagger. Gibbs glanced up at the sound of his voice, and even from where he stood, he knew what was about to happen. So, it seemed, did Jenny. She called his name, her words carried away by the wind, and her eyes widened. Gibbs knew he would never make it in time, but it didn't stop him from bolting in the younger man's direction.

Jenny had gotten the same idea, and her closer distance gave her the advantage. She ran towards Burley as quickly as she could, not even looking as her hat was blown from her head, and reached for him.

"Stan!"

Her hand closed around his just as the rock and dirt beneath his feet completely gave way, and her thin fingers locked around his wrist. She was nearly pulled over the edge by the force of his weight and the forward momentum, but she miraculously held her ground. Burley stared at her as she held on to his wrist and met her eyes seriously.

"Don't you dare let go, Jenny."

"Try to gain some leverage with your feet. Push against the side," she told him.

He did as she instructed, but his shoes had little traction. They merely slipped on the dirt, pulling him further down, and Jenny struggled to hold him up.

"Shepard! Burley!"

She knew, without even looking, that Gibbs was directly behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder as best she could. He held out his hand, and she looked at it blankly.

"Grab my hand, Shepard. Decker and I will pull you both back up."

Jenny shook her head, her free hand still gripping the ground behind her.

"I can't," she said frantically, "If I let go, we'll both fall."

Gibbs looked at her, considering her words. Unless they reacted extremely fast, she was correct. She could feel her grip on Burley's wrist weakening, and she closed her eyes.

"Stan..."

"Damn it, Red, don't you let me fall!"

"Shepard! You can do this. Take my hand. I won't let you fall."

Jenny looked back at him, and shook her head once more.

"Gibbs, I can't! I'm barely holding on to Burley as it is."

"Jenny! Trust me."

Emerald eyes locked on cobalt blue, and finally she nodded. He held out his hand, and though her every instinct was screaming at her to not do it, Jenny reached for him, her fingers locking around his wrist. Decker grabbed Gibbs' other hand, and began pulling them backward. The redhead tightened her hand around Burley's arm, and as she was pulled onto the ground, she landed next to Gibbs, her breathing ragged. Burley collapsed on her other side, and she raised up to look at him, her heart still pounding in her chest.

"You okay, Stan?"

He nodded.

"Thanks for not letting go, Jenny."

"Nah," she said breathlessly, "if I had, you would have haunted my ass. I can barely handle you with earthly limitations, let alone without."

As Gibbs pulled himself up, he held out his hand to her, not saying a word as he pulled her to her feet. The way he was staring at her did not go unnoticed by Decker, but he wisely said nothing, opting instead for glaring at Burley.

"You know, you're supposed to walk to the crime scene, not fall into it and become part of it."

"Shut up, Decker," Burley grumbled.

"Hey, if it wasn't for Shepard, you'd have a broken leg or worse."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"What were you saying about another body, Burley?" Jenny asked, suddenly remembering.

"Right! On the other side of the embankment."

He pointed, and as they made their way carefully down the unstable terrain, Jenny found herself wishing that she had an aspirin. Or a beer. Or both.

As Gibbs was sanding his boat in the solitude of his basement, he found himself thinking about the events of the day. He couldn't stop thinking about the way Jenny had looked into his eyes before taking his hand, the way his skin had been electrified by the feeling of her skin on his, and he tossed back another mason jar of bourbon. He doubted that she would have taken Decker's hand, and that made him somewhat proud. He poured another drink, downing it quickly, and sighed, his thoughts consumed by a certain redhead.

Soft footsteps above his head made him turn, and the click of heels told him exactly who they belonged to.

"Gibbs?"

"Down here," he called.

She walked closer, and he knew what was going to happen a split second before it did. Unused to the steep incline of the stairs, Jenny slipped on the third step, crashing down the rest with several loud curses. He was by her side instantly, and she frowned as he helped her up.

"You're supposed to walk down them," he said, repeating Decker's words to Burley.

"Oh, damn...really? I've been doing this all wrong my entire life, then. I thought the proper way was to launch yourself down them as painfully as possible," she quipped.

She eyed the boat in the center of the room and frowned.

"You really are building a boat down here. I just figured it was a clever euphemism."

"A what?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Get a dictionary."

"Cute, Jen."

"Gibbs, how many times—" she stopped, remembering what Decker had told her.

She took a step, wincing in pain as she realised she must have turned her ankle on the way down the steps, and he frowned.

"Sit down, Shepard."

"It's fine," she protested, "I'm sure it's just a sprain."

He swept her into his arms, placing her on the stool in front of his work table, and knelt in front of her, taking her ankle in his hands. He touched it with expert fingers, probing gently and she hissed in pain as he hit a particularly sore spot.

"Uh-huh. It's definitely sprained. Gonna swell pretty bad. You're gonna want to put ice on that."

He straightened up, giving her a strange look.

"Be right back. Don't try to walk."

She nodded, her eyes following him as he walked up the stairs, and she found herself feeling slightly embarrassed as she realised that he could have turned at any moment and caught her checking him out.

Gibbs frowned as he placed a large amount of ice in a plastic bag, wondering what he was supposed to say to the woman currently sitting in his basement. He'd been denying his attraction to her for so long, and now here she was, having literally fallen into his life. Shaking his head, he looked up at the ceiling, silently asking for advice from whatever deity existed. His only answer was silence, and he sighed as he decided he would return to the basement.

"Why does she have to be a redhead?" he muttered.

When he returned, Jenny was examining all the tools on his table, and she turned at the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. He handed her the ice, and she accepted it with a smile.

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

"So...why a boat?"

He shrugged, and she frowned. He wasn't going to make this easy on her, and she winced as she held the ice on her injured ankle.

"Want a beer?" he asked suddenly.

"What? Oh, sure."

Reaching into a cooler, he handed her a bottle, smiling when she cracked it open easily, and she sighed.

"I've been dreaming about a beer all day," she told him seriously.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I don't...I don't like the wind," she admitted.

"I remember. Any particular reason?"

"I get really bad migraines. Always have, ever since I was a kid. My father thought something was seriously wrong with me, like a brain tumor or something—"

"Would've explained a lot," Gibbs deadpanned.

"Shut up," she said, laughing, "It turned out that it only happens when the wind is really strong."

"You're weird, Shepard."

She glared at him, draining the last of her beer and he smiled at her.

"Good thing I like weird."

He passed her another beer and she took it, shifting the bag of ice on her ankle slightly. She winced and he reached for it, holding it firmly in place. Their eyes met and she stared at him with a look that he couldn't quite identify.

"I never thanked you," she said quietly.

He raised his eyebrow, and she continued.

"For today. If you hadn't pulled us back..."

He shook his head, his eyes still locked on hers.

"You were the one who saved Burley, Jen. Not me. If you hadn't grabbed him and taken my hand, he would have fallen."

"Still..."

She took a long drink of her beer, and leaned forward, her lips meeting his in a gentle kiss.

"Thank you, Jethro."

He stared at her, unable to believe what had just taken place, and he smirked.

"Might have to save your life more often if that's the thanks I get," he said seriously.

She laughed, and shook her head.

"Or you could just ask me like a normal person."

Gibbs shrugged, not sure if she was being serious or not, and he took a drink of his bourbon, hoping he wasn't making a huge mistake.

"Jen?"

"Yes?"

He kissed her, his hand dropping the bag of ice he held, and she brought her own hands to his waist. When he pulled away, he kept his lips close to hers and she smiled as he spoke.

"I'm going to keep kissing you, if that's okay with you?"

She nodded, and his lips met hers again, loving the way her hands pulled him closer.

"I think I should probably go," she whispered as she pulled away, though she really had no desire to leave.

"Yeah," he agreed, "That's probably for the best."

Gibbs reached for her waist, lifting her and setting her carefully on the ground. She gingerly tested putting her weight on her injured ankle and as she slowly made her way to the steps, he paused.

"Shepard?"

She turned, halfway to the stairs, and met his eyes seriously.

"Make sure you keep that elevated tonight, and take tomorrow off."

Jenny shook her head, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Gibbs, it isn't broken. I don't need to take the day off."

"If we have to chase a suspect or anything like it, I can't risk you falling behind or exacerbating that sprain. That would put you and the entire team in danger. This isn't up for debate. Is that clear?'

"Gibbs—"

"Is that clear, Shepard?" he repeated dangerously.

She nodded, now close to the top of the steps and just before she was completely out of sight, she looked at him again.

"Good night, Jethro."

"Good night, Jenny."

It wasn't until he heard his front door shut that he released the breath he hadn't known he was holding.

A/N: Every time I watch Jenny walk down the steps to his basement in her heels, I expect her to fall. I know all too well how difficult it is to walk down stairs in heels.