A/N: There is more than one quote in this chapter to spot...enjoy.
Gibbs opened his eyes slowly. His head wasn't pounding as it might have been. He sat up tentatively, just in case it hadn't hit him, but he was fine. He stood up and pulled on some sweats - trying to decide whether he wanted to work on the boat before heading out to see Ducky.
His mind wandered back to the previous evening as he walked into the kitchen. It had taken every ounce of strength he had not to follow the redheaded stranger up to her hotel room and lose himself in her. But he'd stood still and watching through the front doors as the elevator closed.
He ran a hand through his hair resisted the urge to give himself a slap. He could have done with the comfort – and ostensibly so could she. But there was no going back now. He'd made his decision and she hadn't waited around.
The smell of freshly brewing coffee filled the kitchen, as did sunlight, and he closed his eyes - his mind stuck on an endless loop of you have until the elevator doors close to make up your mind. Every particle of his body had been screaming at him to move, to follow her. But his mind, the rational part of him, had been louder. He swallowed down scalding coffee and made his way to the shower, hoping that a cold one would erase the feeling of the woman's hair from between his fingers. For a brief moment he wondered what it would have smelled of.
"You look like you had an interesting night last night, Jethro."
Ducky was looking more like his old self when Gibbs walked into his hospital room a while later.
He shrugged and sat down in the chair beside his bed.
Ducky sighed.
"I am being allowed to go home in a few days, Jethro. Please don't feel you have to stay here till then on my account."
"You tired of my company, Duck?" Gibbs asked with a gentle smile.
"No. But you've been here for days on end. And I know you've been working. Drinking too, if I'm not mistaken. You need to rest" Ducky said, placing a hand on his arm. "It's the weekend. Spend it at home. Doing something you love."
Gibbs looked at the hand and wondered when his old friend had become so frail. The feeling of fear rose in his throat again.
"Any chance they'll let me spring you for a while? Wheelchair ride round the corridors?" Gibbs asked.
Ducky smiled.
"I'm afraid not. Mr Palmer has offered to bring mother around before dinner, and I am loathe to change their plans. You know how that boy gets. Mother too."
Gibbs smiled.
"I'll stay with you till they get here."
"Is it worth trying to dissuade you?" Ducky asked with a wry smile.
Gibbs raised his eyebrows.
"Thought not" Ducky said with a small chuckle.
Gibbs wandered out of the hospital a few hours later. He rubbed a hand over his face and began to walk. He deliberately went into a different bar, but wasn't surprised when two hours or so later he found himself on the patch of pavement in front of the previous night's bar – a little worse for wear. What were the chances she would be there again anyway.
"I know I left them here last night. Give me back my keys."
"I'm sorry ma'am. You've had even more to drink than you had yesterday. In all conscience I can't let you have them back."
"Oh don't you ma'am me" she rebutted acerbically.
So his instinct had been totally wrong, Gibbs thought. The red headed woman from the previous night looked like she was about to crawl across the top of the bar and castrate the barman. He froze for a second, watching the exchange and wondering whether he should just walk away. But something made him walk forward and place a hand on her shoulder.
"He's being rude again" she said without looking round.
The barman rolled his eyes and walked off.
"Another bad one?" Gibbs asked, pulling out a bar stool and sitting down next to her. He patted the one behind her and she sat down too.
"The worst" she said.
Gibbs nodded at the barman to fill both their glasses.
"Spill ..."
"I don't want to" she replied, twirling the glass round, coating the inside with amber liquid and watching the patterns.
"Fine."
Gibbs took a sip, and waited. He recognised the signs. Knew she wanted to talk. It was just a question of when. There were a few minutes silence, and then she sighed.
"He's a bastard" she announced.
Gibbs turned to her.
"We all are" he said simply.
She was still looking into her glass, as if mesmerised by the way the liquid clung to the sides of it.
"He could at least been vaguely sorry. He was so..."
She trailed off, unable to think of an appropriate word.
"Rude?" Gibbs suggested.
"Yes" she practically shouted. "He just stood there and told me that this was my fault. My fault! He said if I weren't so frigid I'd have realised years ago that he has needs. Real needs. And he called me a workaholic. That's rich, you know, coming from a man who works ninety-six hours a week."
Gibbs almost choked on his bourbon at the mention of the word frigid.
She carried on as if she could read his thoughts."He said I was undesirable. And the stupid thing is .. he's probably right. Even you don't find me attractive."
Gibbs opened his mouth and closed it again, and she turned in her seat, her eyes burning with alcohol and anger.
"I came on really strong last night. And you totally ignored me."
She put a hand on his thigh and he coughed and shifted - trying to ignore the burning desire that threatened to settle in his groin.
"See? Nothing ..." she said as she pulled her hand back.
He resisted the urge to place her hand back on his thigh and move it where he wanted it – but he knew that he'd be playing with fire. And he'd already had so much to drink that it wasn't even a sure bet that anything would happen. He figured he'd spare himself that embarrassment.
"I think you have had enough to drink" he said instead.
"Oh God...don't you start" she scoffed, throwing the last of her drink down her throat.
Gibbs put a hand under her elbow and encouraged her off the stool. She resisted, but as his hand slid from her elbow to her lower back, she gave in and let him direct her towards the door.
"I really do sleep naked you know" she whispered as she stopped suddenly and leaned back into him.
The barman let out a brief laugh behind them and she whirled around – murder in her eyes.
"Right ... lets go" Gibbs said, taking her by elbow again; a little more firmly this time.
He ushered her outside and fell into place behind her.
"I hate it when people walk behind me" she said, annoyance tingeing her tone.
He sighed and stepped up next to her. She nodded happily. It took him about five minutes to realise that she had fallen behind him herself. He turned around to find her standing with her head cocked to one side, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"What?" he asked.
She smiled slowly, a hungry look in her eyes.
"It's my turn to stare at your ass" she said.
Gibbs took her elbow again and and pulled her along. She stumbled into him, her hand automatically going out to steady herself against his chest. She stared at her hand, suddenly conscious of the feel of his hard body beneath her fingers. He stared at her for a moment, and then linked her arm with his.
"Are you sure you don't have any fetishes?" she asked.
Gibbs rolled his eyes.
"I have three ex-wives" he said. "I can't afford any fetishes."
"Want to know if I have any?" she said, her speech more than a little slurred. "Because, you know, if you're going to share my bed you should know a little more about me."
"I'm not going to share your bed" He said as they rounded the corner and reached the hotel.
He removed her arm from his and took a step back. She looked up at him through her lashes, her green eyes wide and more than a little hurt.
"Am I really that unattractive to you?" she asked.
Gibbs cleared his throat awkwardly. He debated telling her that after the copious amount of alcohol he'd consumed he'd be of no use to her in that department – but decided that he wasn't quite ready for that kind of a confession.
"You're under a lot of emotional pressure at the moment" he said instead. "Taking advantage of you while you're on the rebound would be wrong."
She looked at him for a long moment.
"Don't you ever just follow your damn gut?"
"All the time" he admitted.
"Then come to bed with me. If nothing else you look like you could use the distraction too" she reasoned as she took a step towards him.
Her mouth was inches from his and he could feel her breath against his skin, but it didn't prepare him for the sensation of her tongue lapping against his lips for just an instant. It was as though she'd flipped a switch.
He felt his body react.
She pulled away and headed for the elevator. She stepped in and leaned against the doors, holding them open.
"You comin'?" she asked, one hand on her hip.
Gibbs pondered. He hadn't been expecting to be up for anything, truth be told. Now that he no longer had that little problem to hide behind he found himself on unsecured ground. He mulled over his choices. He could go home, drink some more, pass out under the boat. Or he could take the redhead up on her offer.
He slipped into the elevator just as the doors were sliding shut.
She rotated her neck and watched him. Waiting for him to make the first move. Baiting him with her body, almost. He was about to reach for her when there was a call of 'hold the elevator' and a large group of people crowded into the confined space.
As more of the group entered they found themselves pushed to the back, their bodies almost pressed together.
"Which floor?" someone at the front asked her.
"Penthouse" she said with a serene smile.
Gibbs stifled a groan as her hand made its way to his thigh. He glanced at her. Her gaze was fixed straight ahead, but there he could see the beginning of a smirk tugging at her lips. He shifted, trying to get away, knowing that now was not the time to play games. He grabbed her wrist as her hand drifted higher, the heel of it dangerously close to his groin.
She wrenched her hand free from his and planted it back higher on his thigh with determination. His breath hitched in his throat quite audibly and a woman in front of them turned around. He gave her a strangled smile. Gibbs glared at the minx beside him and she grinned mischievously back at him. His mind made up, he took her hand again - his fingers tightening around her wrist.
Two could play her game, he decided. He leant towards her, his lips grazing her neck – taking pleasure in the fact that a shiver ran through her body and that her eyes darkened as she turned them to him.
He grinned and straightened up.
She tried to tug her hand free but his grip was like an iron vice. She pouted at him but he didn't care. He touched her at his leisure; his thumb absentmindedly rubbing back and forth over her pulse point. She glanced at him and gave an experimental tug. His jaw muscles stopped quivering and his mouth twitched, in something which looked suspiciously like a smirk. She bit on her bottom lip as his hand brushed against her thigh.
His grip loosened when the doors opened and she readied herself for a counter-attack as soon as they had closed again. But the group exited and two more people walked in, nodding in their direction.
"Evening ..." the woman said, staring at them for a moment longer than she probably should have.
They rode with them another two floors. And then exited.
The woman turned to him but he bought her silence with two fingers to her lips. He had just pressed his lips to her inner wrist when the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.
She wrenched her hand free and rooted around in her bag.
"Lost your key?" Gibbs asked as he pressed up behind her, his chest firmly against her back. "Or are you planning to have your wicked way with me out here?"
She smiled triumphantly as she pulled out her key card, but her hands trembled with inebriation and she kept missing the slot. He reached around with one hand and helped her, his other hand raising her skirt along her thigh and caressing her over her stockings. The door beeped and as she plunged into the room he suddenly wasn't standing close enough anymore. She spun and hauled him inside, using his weight to slam the door.
He barely had time to take in his surroundings before she had his back firmly against the wood and her body plastered to his. For a moment she hovered, as if she is suddenly unsure of what she was doing. Gibbs closed the gap, bringing his hands to cup her face. His thumbs stroked her cheek and his fingers tangled in her hair.
A dull thud told him that she'd dropped her bag, but he couldn't bring herself to care because he had no intention of letting her go.
It came as somewhat of a surprise when she suddenly pulled away, taking two steps backwards.
The only sound in the room was that of her laboured breathing.
Her eyes were wide, lust filled – with the faintest hint of uncertainty in them.
And then it hit him. She was self-conscious. She hadn't been with a man other than her husband in fifteen years, and probably a few years before that too.
His fingers crept out and hit the nearest light switch.
"I say it's time we turn off the lights and play in the dark."
He'd been right on the ball. The moment the lights went out she she stepped forward again, hand reaching out to clutch at his jacket and push it off his shoulders. He lifted a hand to caress her face, fingers touching her lightly, running over her cheekbone, a thumb trailing over her bottom lip; sliding down her jaw and stroking the side of her neck. She shivered as his hand slipped around the back of her head and pulled her closer. But she went willingly. Opening herself to the depth of the kiss he was testing her with.
Something inside Gibbs suddenly snapped and he hitched her around his waist; pushing off the door and bumping into the nearest piece of furniture. The chest of drawers protested slightly against the impact, but neither one of them seemed to notice. She pressed the heel of her hand into his groin and smiled against his mouth as he arched into her touch. He savoured the feel of it before he pushed her hand away and pulled her tightly to him.
She plastered kisses all over his face, down his neck. A hint of teeth made him moan, and the moan changed into a growl as the coffee table caught him on the shin. He all but threw her down on the bed before he extracted himself from his shirt, throwing it carelessly across the room. She sat up and pulled her blouse over her head and lay back supported by her elbows. His hand tangled in her hair as he moved onto her, and he angled her head so that he could place open mouth kisses to her neck. She bit off a moan as he wriggled a hand underneath her and raised himself off the bed - lifting her with him in one fluid movement. Deft fingers freed her of her bra as she wrapped herself around him.
He once again tried to make it to the bed but she'd turned them around. A bump and a crack told them that they'd encountered glass, and that it hadn't survived the encounter.
"That's seven years back luck" he murmured against her neck.
"I don't give a damn" she said, dragging his mouth back to hers and swallowing his feral growl.
She suddenly felt the edge of the bed against the back of her legs and tumbled onto it. He leaned forward, forcing her to lie on her back. One of his hands was firmly planted by her hip whilst the other fumbled with his belt. She sat up and slapped his hands away, undoing the belt, the button and the fly, pushing his pants down his thighs and tugging on his boxers. He sucked in a breath as her hands touched his stomach, and a sudden irrational hatred of her husband flitted across his mind.
She misread his faltering and placed a small hand on his face.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
Her voice was low and sultry and it sent shivers of anticipation down his spine.
"Hell yeah" he replied as he reached down to nuzzle her neck.
"You know ... I think it's time we were formally introduced" she whispered.
"Jethro" he said as he took a swipe at her neck and then nipped at her shoulder gently.
"Jenny ..." she returned. "Oh God ... do that again."
Gibbs raised his head slightly – just enough to get a kick out of the unadulterated pleasure written all over her face. Then he went back to suckling her breasts.
Her hands wound in his hair to hold him in place as she arched underneath him, moans escaping her mouth. One of his hands skimmed down her side, tracing the contours of her body, exploring the expanse of skin beneath his fingers. He ran his hand down her thigh, lifting her leg around his waist, before curling it underneath and fingering the lace of her panties. She gasped as his fingers poked through the flimsy material.
"Stop teasing ..." she breathed.
He grinned against her skin and lifted her head. Her hands were still tangled in his hair when she brought his lips crashing down on hers, her tongue practically forcing entry into his mouth. Her desperate moans were muffled by his mouth, but they were enough to raise his arousal a notch. He was already beyond desperate to satisfy his curiosity of what it felt like to be inside her. His hand slipped between her skin and the lace, his fingers grazed her stomach before finding and pressing on the bundle of nerves that had her biting her bottom lip to prevent the cry that threatened to escape.
"That's enough" she said suddenly, pushing him off her with strength he couldn't even conceive she possessed.
She pulled the last piece of material from her body and threw it away from her. He spared himself a moment to drink in the image of her lying naked in front of him - the street lamps highlighting every curve. But then she was tugging off his boxers and pulling him down onto her again. Her fingers curled in his chest, digging in slightly as he leant over her. He bit gently down on a nipple, soothing the bite with his tongue immediately after. His fingers found their way to her hips and tightened, until he was certain he was leaving bruises. The thought of her wearing his marks had him tightening them even more. He didn't give her a chance to catch her breath before he was buried deep inside her, and he was almost sure her eyes were darker than before. He didn't pause, because his hips moved almost on their own. She locked her legs around his waist and angled her hips upwards to let him in deeper. He groaned as he buried his head on the pillow next to hers, inhaling her scent deeply. Her fingers dug into his shoulder as they fought to stake their claim on each other. She dug her fingers into his back and the thought that they would be wearing similar bruises made his pick up the pace.
Incoherent words escaped her lips as she neared orgasm; an intense heat travelled from between her legs, down the back of her thighs, right down to her toes. Her fingers dug into him a little more as she arched up into him one last time. Every muscle in her body clenched as it finally hit. The change in position of her hips had him biting off a string of curses, the clenching of her body around him had him thrusting into her once last time before his climax hit him. Intense and furious.
He stayed buried inside her, enjoying the afterglow and the comedown of possibly the most intense sex he'd had in many years. She shifted slightly and bit down on her bottom lip as he pulled out, the friction on the already intensified nerve endings almost too much. He collapsed next to her, his own breathing loud in his ears. She nuzzled him, her breath blowing gently over his skin. He felt sleep call him and he didn't even try to fight it.
She hadn't been asleep for very long if the ache all over her body was anything to go by. She rolled over and felt the side of the bed which should have been occupied by Jethro. She groped for the bedside lamp and switched it on. Soft muted light spilled across the room and highlighted him crossing the room. He turned to her, his pants in his hands. He looked like a startled rabbit caught in headlights and she resisted the urge to laugh.
"I'd better get going" he said.
Jen clutched the sheet around her body, suddenly self-conscious. It wasn't every day she fell into bed with complete strangers. She hadn't slept with anyone else but her husband for eighteen years. She bit her lip - unsure of what to say.
Gibbs stopped dead in his tracks as a flicker of embarrassment and upset flashed across her eyes. He hadn't wanted to leave, but didn't want awkwardness in the morning. He knew, from experience many years ago, that mornings after were usually awkward - and he wanted none of it.
"You can stay if you want."
Her voice was quiet and unsure, and it drew him back to her side.
The uncertainty faded from her eyes as she moved the sheet aside and let him slip into bed.
She rolled him over onto his back.
"Ready to have your world rocked again?" she asked light-heartedly.
"I'm barely over the last time" Gibbs said with a grin that matched her own.
He caressed her hair slowly as she lay on top of him. Twirling the red tresses in his fingers as though they were something precious.
"What?" she asked after a while.
"Nothing" he lied.
"You were looking at me very intensely just now" she said.
"For a moment you reminded me of someone I used to know" he said after a while. Not sure why he was even divulging this to her. Determined not to let her know who it was she'd reminded him of at that precise moment.
She looked at him for a while, and her face broke into a sad but tender smile.
"Did you love her very much?" she asked.
Gibbs wasn't sure he could speak even if he'd wanted to. But she apparently read the answer in his eyes because she touched his face tenderly before she lowered her mouth to his.
"Then I'm glad I remind you of her" was all she said before she kissed him.
And there was just something about the way she said it. Something about the sincerity behind the words that blew him away.
The second round was nothing like the first. There was no tussling for dominance. No cat on heat in his arms. Just warmth that radiated from her and seeped into his soul. She kissed him deeply and passionately, drawing from him tenderness that he'd forgotten he was capable of. He felt her tightness envelop him and he was unable to draw his eyes from hers. He buried his face in her shoulder, feeling a lot more emotional than he should be, his mind supplied. He wanted to put it down to the alcohol, but he knew it wasn't just that. there was no time to dwell however, because the intensity caused his climax to build a lot quicker than he was expecting - and he realised suddenly that he was moaning; completely lost in feeling as the tremors of orgasm wracked his body. And through it all she held him close. So close that he could feel her hot breath on his neck as she fell over the edge at the same time as him.
She caressed his face as he opened his eyes.
"Thank you" she murmured against his lips.
"What for?" he asked as he pulled her down into his side.
"For giving me what I needed."
Gibbs spooned up behind her. He allowed himself the luxury of burying his face in her hair and inhaling its scent.
"Just for the record" he whispered gently as he placed a kiss behind her ear, "you're very far from being frigid."
He felt her sobs rather than heard them. Rotating her in his arms he held her close. Stroking her hair till she was all cried out and fell asleep.
Jenny opened her eyes the moment the sound reverberated through the room. She slipped quickly from the bed and looked around frantically for her bag – afraid that the noise from her vibrating Blackberry would wake the man sleeping in her bed before she managed to slip away.
She identified the caller with a sigh.
"I'm on my way down" she said before ending the call.
She tiptoed round the room picking up her clothes, and it didn't take her long to realise that she couldn't wear them. They reeked of smoke and alcohol from the bar. And of Jethro. She pulled the closet door open slowly and slipped a trench coat off a hanger. As quietly as she could she stuffed all of her belongings into the Louis Vuitton carrier bag sitting at the bottom. She felt rather foolish slipping her coat on over her nakedness, but she knew that there would be no questions asked. And she'd be home soon enough anyway.
Part of her wished to wake him. To thank him again. To look into that sea of blue one last time. But she knew better. It would only necessitate conversations. Goodbyes. Awkwardness. She'd felt that being with her had brought to the surface a lot more pain than he had been prepared for; and she'd seen enough divorce in her circle of friends to anticipate the heartache that lay in her own immediate future. It was better to slip away before he woke up. For both their sakes.
She knelt by the side of the bed and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple.
And then she was gone.
The knocking on the door woke him up from the deep sleep. He groaned
as he lifted him self off the bed into a sitting position. His eyes still closed he furrowed his brow, wondering who the hell would be knocking his bedroom door. His eyes flew open, and the previous night came flooding back. Every moan, every kiss, every sight.
I'll get it" he called in the direction of the bathroom and heading for the door.
As he reached for the handle he realized that he was still naked. Cursing his hangover, he walked back to the bedroom, found his pants and pulled them on.
"Jenny? You okay in there?" he said as pulled on his pants.
He heard a key card slide into the door, and he had his pants halfway up his let leg when it opened and he came face to face with a chambermaid.
"Checkout is at noon, Sir. I'm sorry - we can't let you stay any longer. We need the room." Realisation hit him, Jenny had gone, left.
Gibbs nodded and pulled on his shirt. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but Jenny sneaking out before he was awake had not on his list of expected outcomes. He looked round the room. The mirror was broken, the coffee table was not where it should be and the sheets of the bed were not all in the right place either.
He opened his mouth to say something but the woman in front of him anticipated him.
"She's already paid for all the damage" she said reassuringly.
Gibbs stared vacantly at her for a moment, and then he swung into his jacket and left the room, his mind on Jen. He understood. Really. Goodbyes after a one night stand were usually awkward. He supposed he should be grateful that he'd gotten off easy. And yet he felt the sting of regret.
He raked a hand through his hair and briefly nodded at the man who walked up to the elevator and mumbled good morning as they stepped inside together.
"Sir!"
A voice sounded down the corridor and he bristled, hoping with everything he had that the voice wasn't talking to him. He turned and sighed as the chambermaid came down the corridor holding a flimsy piece of material between her thumb and forefinger. She handed them gingerly to Gibbs.
"Your girlfriend left these"she said.
He stared at the pink lace in his hands before he remembered the man standing next to him. He stuffed them into his pocket and hit the button for the lobby.
He definitely didn't imagine the stifled snort that came from the guy.
"Good night, I take it. Lucky bastard!"