The morning light trickles into the room through his partially closed windows, rousing her from her sleeping state. It takes her a few moments to recount the previous nights events.
She reaches her arm out to the other side of the bed as the memories come flooding back, feeling around for him only to find the bed empty and the sheets cold.
It's then she sits up and takes a moment to drink in her surroundings. The disheveled sheets, her discarded heels by the door, his lack of a presence, the slight headache she has from one to many glasses of bourbon. She can't even think of the last time she slept past sunrise, let alone this late in the morning.
Jethro Gibbs did strange, strange things to her.
She can't help but smile as she sinks back down into his bed, inhaling deeply as she does. This right here was where she was wanted to be, despite all the mountains and hurdles that were ahead.
There's a part of her that debates going back to sleep; she's entirely too comfortable in his bed but her curiosity of his whereabouts pricks the back of her mind enough that she decides against it.
Her clothes are in disarray around his bedroom. Half of what she was wearing was no where to be found. If she had to guess, she would say there is a trail of clothing leading from his basement to his bedroom, but that piece of her memory is more abstract feelings than concrete memories, so she really can't be sure.
After giving up on getting dressed in her own clothes, she makes herself comfortable in one of his NIS shirts before wrapping the sheet around her body. Despite the warmth of his bed, the house itself was inexplicably chilly even during the winter months.
The moment she opens the bedroom door she's hit full force with the scent of coffee, and it perks her up even more as she makes her way carefully down the steps.
She finds him sitting at his kitchen table, sipping at his coffee while absentmindedly flipping through a file of sorts. Work, she presumes.
"Good morning." She says, padding softly into the kitchen.
He looks up as she enters, "Morning," he nods towards the counter, "made coffee."
"Thank god," she says, making her way towards it, "I need my caffeine fix for the day."
He flips the file shut and turns to look at her over his shoulder.
"Something keep ya up last night, Jen?" He teases.
She rolls her eyes, "A certain special agent who doesn't know how to pace himself, is all."
He lets out a laugh, "Yeah, I'm the one who can't pace themselves."
The urge to roll her eyes come back and she has to restrain herself from repeating the motion, opting just to shake her head in amusement instead because really, who was he trying to fool. She could pace herself just fine.
"Whatever you say, Jethro."
When she's finished pouring herself her coffee, she turns to face him, blushing as she sees the playful look on his face. How had it been only a day ago they were screaming at each other in her office?
It's then she decides to perch herself in his lap, laughing lightly at the surprised look on his face.
She acts as casual as possible, leaning softly back against him and sipping her coffee, blissfully ignoring the fact that she's acting like a love struck teenager instead of a woman her age.
"Feeling a bit bold today, Jen?" He asks, pressing a chaste kiss to her exposed neck and she shivers at the sensation. Oh the affects that man had on her.
"Perhaps." She answers with a smile before taking a drink of her coffee.
They fall into a comfortable silence, she taking slow sips of her coffee and he running his hand up and down the length of her still sheet covered forearm.
It's downright preposterous that position they're in: her sitting on his lap like they weren't grown adults. She tries to recount the last time she dropped her all-work-no-play Director facade, but her memory comes up short.
The longer she sat though, more thoughts flooded her mind and she begins to worry about their choices in the last 24 hours.
"Are we doing the right thing Jethro?" She asks, "When Monday comes around we're going to have to go back to work and pretend like this isn't happening, and I can't even imagine the scandal this is going to cause if the scuttlebutt about it gets around-"
He cuts her off, "You always do so much worrying first thing in the morning?"
His words cause her to freeze for a moment, "You're right," she laments, "I'm thinking to much. I just don't want us to fall down the same destructive patterns as before."
"Well," he says, "We're not hiding in a Parisian attic for one, I'd say that's a start."
She snorts, "You day it like you didn't enjoy being laid up in bed all day."
He quirks up an eyebrow, "You making suggestions, Jen?"
She knows that really, she should be getting home. If nothing else so she can grab a change of clothes and a shower, but she'd be kiddng herself if the offer didn't sound tempting. It had been too long since she's been able to enjoy the company of a man, and he was something special.
Instead of providing him a direct answer, she simply sits her now empty coffee cup on the kitchen table and stands, letting the sheet she had wrapped around her slither to the floor as she does. She's still wearing just his shirt and she knows darn well it has an affect on him.
"I guess you'll have to find out, Agent Gibbs."
She's only a few steps down the hall before she feels him grab her by the waist and twist her to face him.
He kisses her hard on the mouth and she decides then and there that this is what bliss feels like.