Growing up in the city, Jenny Shepherd knew full well that the corridors between buildings served as makeshift wind tunnels when the weather turns cold.
She was harshly reminded of that fact as she made her way inside the front doors of the NCIS, a gust of icy air brushing against her skin. She pulled her coat tighter around her thin frame, though it did little ward off the cold, and only when she walked through the doors did a wave of heat wash over her. Still, she could feel the chill lingering in her fingers as she made her way to the elevator.
It was just nearing 7 am - almost an hour later than she normally arrived - when she made her way through the bullpen, and though Gibbs bleary eyed team was already gathered at their desks, the man himself had yet to make an appearance. If she were being honest, his lack of a presence relieved her somewhat. That was a beast she did not want to tackle today.
She had told Cynthia when she was entering her office that she didn't want to be disturbed today. Her fingers still ached from the cold and the dull headache she woke up had blossomed into a full migraine. On top of that, she had been running late this morning and hadn't been able to stop for coffee, a routine she did every morning.
It was because of this that the green and white coffee cup sitting on her desk surprised her. Cynthia would have known better than to get it for her, knowing she would have brought her own, and she was certain she hadn't forgotten to throw away her one from yesterday when she left. Then again, she had rushed out in a hurry.
Her assumption was confirmed when she touched it though, it's heat palpable through the cardboard. It certainly wasn't from the day before.
One taste and she knew who had brought it. There was only a single person who dared to drink that strong of a blend besides her.
He anticipated her being late today, with both amused and irked her. She supposes that his uncanny way of knowing how she operates should put her ill at ease, but she supposes there will always be a part of her that liked that about their relationship. They were both open books when it came to each other.
Still, that's partly what got them into this mess.
Despite her attempt not to, she smiles again as she takes another sip of the coffee, peeling off the layers of her winter clothes when she does before taking a seat at her desk.
She's only three papers into the stack of files on her desk when the door flies open.
"Need you."
Cynthia appears behind him, eyes defeated but not surprised as she looks to Jenny.
"It's fine, Cynthia."
With a nod, the younger woman closes the door behind her, leaving the two of them alone in her office. She crosses her arms impatiently.
"You're going to push my assistant into early retirement, Jethro." she says with a glare.
"FBI is intruding on my case. " He says, ignoring her statement entirely.
"Reason being?"
"Dead petty officer in Virginia," he explains, "FBI was looking into him for suspected murder. Evidence is slim to none on their end, and they're interfering with my investigation."
His eyes land on the now half drank coffee cup for a moment before flicking back up to look at her. There's an amused smirk on his lips when he takes in the sight.
"Running late today, Jen?" he asks, nodding towards the cup.
She suppresses the urge to roll her eyes, "Perhaps, Agent Gibbs."
Giving into him would only add more fuel to the fire, and the situation she found herself in within the last 24 hours.
"Something keep you up last night?"
She cracks under his words, shooting him a glare that could rival his own. She learned from the best, after all.
"Did you come to talk about the your case, Agent Gibbs? If not, I don't think there's anything else for us to discuss."
He quirks up an eyebrow, "Isn't there?"
There's a part of her that knows she's being unfair. That she was just as much responsible for the predicament they found themselves in as he was. Still, his intentional aloofness toward the situation was doing nothing more than making her headache worse and her nerves more agitated.
"I take it you're fine with the FBI poking around into your case since you seemed to have forgotten about that, then?" She asks, flashing him a false smile and batting her eyelashes at him.
"I want them off my back," he answers gruffly, "they're getting in the way of my team closing in on a suspect. One wrong move on their part and we have a dead Petty Officer with no killer."
She breathes a sigh of relief, "I'll make a few phone calls, but I can't delay them forever if they have an ongoing investigation. You need to close in quick, or there's nothing I can do."
He nods, turning to leave but stopping before he makes more than a few steps.
"You sure you don't want to talk about it, Jenny?"
This. This was what she was afraid of when she woke up this morning. The titular moment that she would have to acknowledge.
"You never were one for talking about things Jethro, why start now?" It's an attempt to lighten the mood, but her joke falls short.
There's something in his eye that she doesn't quite recognize, a look she's never seen him wear in all the years she's known him. It scares her and she can't place why.
"Fine." He says, tone harsher than before. It makes her cringe, "keep the FBI out of my case, Director."
Her door slams shut without another word.
With a long sigh, her gaze drops to the coffee in front of her. She knows, logically, that she would regret having slept with him the night before. That she should have known better than to let down her guard and cave into the tension that always seemed to have been there. She knows she should regret all of it.
What scared her is that she didn't, no matter how much she tried.
A/n: A few disclaimers: I have a vague idea of where I want this story to go. The title will play a bigger role in this as the plot progresses, and basing it around what Locus Amoenus means, so we're going to see where this goes.
if you have any ideas/suggestions of how you want the story to progress, make sure to drop a comment. As always, your reviews are much appreciated.