Tito

A/N: Not a happy bunny after someone broke into my car, and need to vent. With a little bit of Jibbs, I should cheer up. And yes, I named my car Tito. Don't ask.

To the nice policeman who persevered in contacting me about my car, and my poor car itself, stuck in a garage.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not used to strange phone calls in the middle of the night. Actually, considering his job and his senior field agent, he was very used to them. But strange phone calls from his boss in which she sounded close to tears were not normal. This had led him to hop in his car and drive round.

He knocked calmly on the door, resisting the urge to kick the door in and figure out what was bothering his lover this time. He waited for a few moments before knocking again. If she didn't answer soon…

His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened a crack, someone peered at him, and then the door opened fully. His favorite redhead stood in the doorway, wrapped in a blanket, her eyes red from crying. He pulled her into his arms, kicking the door shut behind him.

She melted into his arms, and started to cry again. Completely confused, he cradled her until she relaxed. She pulled back, grabbed one of his hands, and dragged him into her study.

Pouring both of them a drink, she settled into one of the armchairs. He sat down on the one opposite her, observing her carefully. Her hands were trembling ever so slightly, while she looked on the verge of tears again. He wanted to reach over and pull her back into his arms, but knew she was keeping her distance for a reason. He just didn't know why.

"I bought a car a month ago," she began, breaking the silence.

He stared at her. She definitely hadn't mentioned this. "Why?" he asked.

"Because!" She rose and started to pace. "In case you haven't noticed, Jethro, I get driven everywhere. If I want five minutes to myself, I can forget it. I just wanted a little car so that I could visit some old friends and spend a little bit of time alone."

He decided to stop pushing her. They could argue about this later. Something else was clearly bothering her more.

She sighed. "I can't exactly leave him by my house –"

"Him?" he interrupted, unable to help himself.

She glared at him. "His name is Tito."

"A male car?! I thought you being unable to call a boat a 'she' was bad enough" he teased. "Do you even know who Tito was?"

Her glare became more intense. "I know who he was. Can I please continue?"

He nodded, determined to continue his teasing later.

It took her a few moments to find her train of thought. "I got a call from Metro today, saying that my car had been damaged and could I take a look at it? Turns out that someone smashed the driver's window, removed the plastic from around the steering wheel in an attempt to hot wire it, and rifled through my glove box."

He decided he was going to find whoever did it and kill them. "Did they take anything?" he queried, somehow keeping all the fury out of his voice.

She shook her head. "Left everything out on the passenger seat, but didn't steal anything. The nice policeman took a few things for fingerprints, but he's not holding his breath."

"Was there anything worth stealing?"

"No," she sighed. "Which is probably why they didn't. I mean, why pick my car? It's rubbish! It gets me from A to B, but it doesn't look good and it makes horrible noises."

He rose and pulled her into a hug. She rested her head on his chest. He rubbed soft circles on her back, willing her to relax and stop worrying. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before speaking again.

"Did you have your address on anything in the car?"

"No," she answered, her voice sounding small.

"Anything with your name on it?" he continued.

"Possibly. But nothing saying that I'm the Director of NCIS," she mused.

He already knew he was staying the night. They kept separate houses for when cases became too much or they needed their space, but she needed company tonight. And possibly a protection detail as well. He could double as both. No one else was going to hurt her today. They would have to go through him first, and he was not in a forgiving mood.

He loosened his grip and guided her towards the stairs. She did not protest at any step of the way. Tugging her into her bedroom, he motioned for her to get ready for bed, while he disappeared downstairs.

It took him longer than he would have liked to find everything he needed. But eventually it was ready, and he carried both mugs upstairs. She was sitting on the centre of her bed, having wrapped the blankets back around her shoulders. He smothered a smile, knowing that her mother had given it to her years ago. Without realizing, Jenny always seemed to use it as an object to comfort herself.

She smiled warmly at him as he handed her the mug of steaming hot chocolate. He had even managed to find a few marshmallows to stick on the top, which earned him a giggle. He watched as she tried to drink it without burning her mouth. He found it rather amusing until he took a sip of his own mug and almost burnt his tongue off. Somehow, he managed to finish it, and she finished hers.

He took the mugs downstairs, rinsed them, and left them to dry. She was waiting for him back in bed, having snuggled under the covers while he was gone. He curled up to her, happy to be in her presence, although not happy with the circumstances that had led them to this point. He listened as her breathing evened out and she fell asleep.

Tomorrow, he was going to call Metro, steal the case, and get Abby to analyze the evidence. Whoever had been stupid enough to break into Jenny's car was about to learn his lesson.

THE END