A\N: My first JIBBS oneshot in a while, enjoy, Angels.

He's sanding his boat at 0030, taking small sips of his bourbon when his cell phone rings from beside him. Frowning, the gray haired ex marine picks up the phone. He prays to God it's not Tony calling him about nightmares about the blue room where he was isolated with Kate except it's Kate that's sick with Y Pestis and ends up dying, because of him. Since Kate's death, the leader of MCRT has been comforting his agents, even Ziva who shot Kate's killer who also happened to be her half-brother, but none of his agents have been worse than DiNozzo who witnessed her death and was covered in her blood. His Senior Field Agent has been through a shit ton these last two months without being tortured by nightmares about his partner dying of the same thing that almost stole his life right before her eyes. He deserves some uninterrupted sleep.

Ridding his mind of his grieving agents, he answers his ringing phone.

Phone call

Gibbs: Yeah, Gibbs.

(The voice on the other side of the call definitely isn't any of his agents, at least none of his current agents)

Jen: Hi, Jethro!

Gibbs: Jen, what's going on? You okay?

Jen: Can you come pick me up? I need you.

Gibbs: Where are you?

Jen: At the bar me, you, Will and Stan used to go.

Gibbs: (sigh) Jen, are you drunk right now?

Jen: Just a little bit.

Gibbs: Damn it, Shepard, just stay there and no more drinking, I'll be there soon.

Jen: 'Shepard', haven't heard that one from you in a long time. Paris, right?

Gibbs: Jen, I'm not discussing Paris with you right now, just stay put.

Phone call

Snapping his phone closed, he grabs his jacket from the stool, pockets his phone, grabs his wallet and keys and bolts upstairs and runs outside to his truck, gunning the engine to get Jen and bring her home. On the way to the bar, Gibbs can't help thinking about his former Probie and lover.

He can't believe she got drunk like a damn Probie. What was she thinking? Did she almost forget the time she got drunk in Paris and woke up with a killer hangover that lasted for two days? Granted she didn't sound drunk on the phone but he never knows with Jen. He pulls up outside the familiar bar, kills the engine and gets out of the truck, strolling into the bar, his blue eyes immediately finding the redheaded director.

She's sitting at the bar, not doing anything. He approaches her from behind, placing a hand on her back, startling her. He gives her a slight smile as she turns her head towards him.

"Hi, Jen." He says, Jen smiles tightly.

"Hi, Jethro." She replies.

"Let's get you home." Jethro says as he gets her coat and purse in his arms. He takes her hand and gently lifts her off the bar stool and drags her to the door and to his truck, opening the passenger truck door and waiting until she's seated to swing himself into the driver's seat, placing her coat and purse on the floor of the cab. The ride back to his house is silent.

Jen leans her soon to be pounding head on Jethro's truck window and closes her eyes, her mind a swirling mess of the last few hours, particularly when she called Jethro to pick her up.

What was she thinking? Why did she ask him to pick her up? She knew he'd come, there was no doubt in her mind about that, but why had she called him? Why did she even get drunk at a bar anyway? She could've gotten drunk at home in her study without having to call him.

With these questions in her mind, Jen lets sleep overtake her. Maybe when she wakes up, she'll have the answers to her questions. She's in such a deep sleep that she doesn't feel the truck stop outside Jethro's house or the fact that he lifts her into his arms bridal style and carries her inside the house to his unused bedroom, tucking the comforter around her, kissing her forehead and walking out of the room, leaving the door open a crack.

Jen groans as she opens her eyes, her head pounding. She blinks the sleep out of her eyes before it hits her: this isn't her bedroom but she knows who's it is and she's pissed.

Why would he bring her here?

Sitting up and moving the cover off her, the redheaded Director breathes a sigh of relief when she sees that Jethro didn't undress her like he did when she got wasted in Paris. Jen gets out of Jethro's bed and walks down the stairs to the kitchen where there's a fresh pot of coffee and an empty mug beside the machine. Taking the pot in her hands, she pours the liquid into the cup, loads the cup with sugar and cream and walks down to the basement where she knows her former lover and current employee will be.

The sounds of her employee sanding his boat and the smell of sawdust and coffee float in the air as she walks down the stairs. Jethro is sanding his boat, coffee beside him on the workbench. She watches as his back muscles ripple with the movements of the sanding.

He doesn't turn around as he speaks to her. "You feeling okay?" He asks. Jen scoffs, ignoring his question about her wellbeing.

"Why the hell did you bring me here?" She demands, taking a sip of her coffee. Now Jethro turns around to look at her, his eyes narrowing.

"You were drunk last night, Jen and you passed out in my truck and I sure as hell wasn't gonna let you be alone when you were passed out so I took you here instead where I could keep an eye on you." He explains. Jen sighs as she sips her coffee.

"Thank you for coming last night." Jen says softly. Jethro nods in response and turns back to his sanding. Jen just stands in his basement, coffee cup cradled in her hand. Tears well up in her eyes. A day dream flashes before her eyes:

She's dressed in one of his shirts, drinking coffee as he sands his boat with a smile on his face as their eyes meet over the ribs of his boat. She takes a sip of coffee, her eyes catching something on her finger.

Rings.

Engagement and wedding rings to be precise .

She puts her coffee down and slips the wedding ring off, looking at the engraving: J , 1999, in Paris-forever.

Paris.

Slamming her cup down, the redhead turns around and bolts up the stairs, ignoring his voice as he runs after her.

Why couldn't he have run after her when she left Paris?

Just as she reaches his front door, his hand clamps down on her arm, spinning her around gently to face him, after that short daydream, tears are slipping down her face.

She wishes it could be more than a daydream.

"Jen, what's going on? Why did you run?" Jethro asks, wiping away the tears from her face.

"Why didn't you run after me when I fled Paris? I waited for you! I waited for you to come running into my home tell me what an idiot I was for running from you! I waited for you to run after for months but you didn't run after me? Why? Tell me why you didn't run after me!" She shouts, tears falling down her face like a waterfall, her vision blurring.

"I didn't run after you because I thought you didn't want me to run after you." Jethro tells her. Jen blinks the rest of the tears away and stares at him in disbelief.

Director and Agent stare at each other for a few minutes in tense silence before the Director shakes her head.

"Take me home please, Agent Gibbs, I can't stand to stay here another minute in your presence." Jen says professionally. Jethro nods his head before grabbing his truck keys.

Jethro drives his favourite redheaded ex-Probie back to her house in silence.

He wants to speak to her and tell her that he regrets not running after her when she fled Paris six years ago but fears she'd shoot him the second his mouth opens to form the words so he keeps quiet, considering the best way to talk to her without ending up with a bullet in him.

Turning on her street, Jethro looks out of the corner of his eyes and sees Jen gathering her coat and bag from the floor that he left there earlier this morning when he carried her out of the truck.

"Jen-" He begins as he stops outside her townhouse but he's cut off by the passenger door slamming shut so hard it almost rocks the truck.

He watches as she unlocks her door and walks inside the large house, shutting it behind her. He sighs as he drives away reluctantly.

He just wishes he told her the real reason he didn't run after her when she fled Paris.

Jen sits in her office in silence, writing her name on some documents. It's been two days since she called Jethro to come pick her up from the bar, and only a day since she asked him why he never ran after her when she fled Paris and a day since his response had her in disbelief and asking him to drive her home, and she's see head nor hide of him since this morning and it was tense to say the least.

Jen walks off the elevator, coffee in one hand, briefcase in the other one as she walks into the MCRT bullpen, meeting the blue eyes of her Senior Agent In Charge as she walks by.

His eyes are cold. And she hates it.

His eyes aren't meant to be cold, they're meant to be crystal clear, like the sky, and able to tell him what she's thinking before she even knows it herself. They're meant to be stormy blue on days he wants to playfully rile her up But today his eyes are cold. And she doesn't like it.

She turns her eyes from his cold gaze and heads up to her office to be alone for as long as she can.

The look of his cold blue eyes will haunt her for more than a lifetime.

She's kind of lucky that she's been shut away in her office or MTAC for the day so that she can't see his cold blue eyes.

A knock comes at her office door and she sighs internally, before telling her visitor to come in. Her eyes widen in surprise and shock as she watches the silver haired man with blue eyes enter her office with a piece of paper in hand.

She can't believe that he knocked.

Putting her pen down, she looks at her agent. "How can I help you, Agent Gibbs?" She asks politely. A warrant is placed down on her desk.

"Need your signature on this, Madame Director." her title sounds so weird coming off his tongue, he's never called her that unless he's visibly angry with her, but never like this. Never professionally, never like he's always called that. He's always called her Jenny, Shepard or her personal favourite, Jen, the one nickname that only he has called her. Even though she looks like she acts like she hates the nickname, he knows that she knows that she secretly loves it.

"I'll do it now." The redhead says, turning back to the paperwork on her desk, picking up her pen and signing the warrant and handing it back to him. She watches as he walks up to the door, putting his hand on the doorknob before speaking to her.

"For the record, the real reason I didn't run after you is because when the Op was over and I asked you to come home with me, you said no. You said no when I asked you to come home." Jethro says before leaving the office.

The Director stares in shock.

Jen walks into her study, throwing off her heels and walking over to her liquor cabinet and grabbing a bottle of bourbon and a tumbler, pouring herself a generous amount of the liquid. She walks over to the desk, her eyes landing on a black box in the middle of the large oak desk. Putting her drink down and picking the box with shaking hands. Even looking at the box, she knows what it is.

Opening the box, tears fill her green eyes. Nestled in the folds of a silk hole, is an emerald green diamond with a thick gold band. Lifting the ring out of the box, Jen reads the engraving which makes tears run down her face.

J , 1999, in Paris-forever.

The same engraving is the same one as on the ring in her daydream she had a few days ago in Jethro's basement.

The tears are flowing faster.

If I refused that unit and didn't say no to him, we could've been married right now, maybe have a couple of kids. She thinks, looking at the ring in her hand.

I wish I had said yes to coming back home with him when he asked.

Jethro knocks on Jen's front door. He hasn't seen Jen since he went to her office two days ago. She's not been in the office for two days. And he suspects it has something with that ring he left on her study desk a few hours after their interaction in her office.

"Jen, I know you're home, open the door." He says, knocking again. The door remains closed and he sighs, getting her spare key from his key chain and unlocking her door, walking inside the house.

Her house is dark and silent. "Jen?" Jethro calls out, worry settling in the pit of his stomach as he hears silence in the house. He walks up the stairs, noticing her bedroom door isn't fully closed like it usually is when she's out of the house. Opening her door and entering her dark room, Jethro sees the outline of Jen curled up in a ball in her bed, awake.

"Jen, you okay?" He asks, coming to kneel in front of her, looking into her green eyes. Even in the dark he can see that she's been crying and that they're puffy.

She doesn't answer, continuing to look at him.

"Jen, answer me: are you okay?" He repeats. Finally Jen nods a little bit, a lie that Jethro sees right through.

"No you're not okay, Jen. Just tell me what's going on and why you haven't been at work for the past two days." He tells her, crawling onto her bed, laying beside her. Jen turns over to face him.

"This ring is just a reminder of what I gave up when I said no to you and left Paris." She whispers to him, Jethro sighs.

"You didn't give anything up, you just put it on hold for a while." He says softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Jen shakes her beautiful head.

"What are you saying, Jethro?" Jen asks, sitting up, snapping on her bedside lamp, covering the room in a yellow light. Jethro looks at his redheaded partner.

"I'm saying I still love you, I've always loved you. I should have ran after you before you stepped off that plane. That damn ring was burning a hole in my pocket for three weeks before everything happened. When you left, I couldn't take that damn thing out of my suitcase for months before I finally put it in my toolbox." Jethro says. He watches as Jen frowns, a tiny, cute crease appearing in the middle of her eyebrows.

"How can you still love me after everything I've done to you?" Jen questions, Jethro sits up and faces her, taking her face in his hands, looking into her emerald green eyes.

"Just answer me this: do you still love me?" He watches as several emotions run through her eyes before her lips collide with his. The kiss deepens pretty quickly, Jethro pulls Jen onto his lap.

They pull away, breathing heavily. Jethro smiles as he pulls Jen into a bone crushing hug, his nose burying itself into her hair as her head finds his shoulder.

"Did that answer your question?" He hears her ask, he chuckles as he rubs her back.

"Sure as hell did." Jen pulls away slightly.

"What happens to us now?" She asks. Jethro kisses her nose, his blue eyes travelling to the huge ring on her finger.

"Well, you've already got that ring on your finger, so what do you say to resuming our relationship and just enjoy being engaged?" He asks, Jen's eyes go wide before her pretty head starts nodding like a bobble head.

"I'd like that." His redhead says before kissing him again.

Six months later:

Jen looks at the two rings sitting snugly on her finger as she lies next to her husband in their shared bed in Paris, in the exact same shared bed they shared in Paris six years ago. It's only been a day since her wedding and it's been the best day of married life ever.

"What are you thinking about so hard, Mrs Gibbs?" Her new husband asks her, Jen giggles, snuggling into her husband's side.

"Just remembering the last time we were in this hotel bed, Mr Gibbs." She says with one perfect eyebrow raised.

Squealing in surprise, Jen is flipped on top of her husband, staring into his blue orbs before kissing him hard, raking her perfectly manicured nails down his back.

"If I remember correctly, it went a little something like this" Her husband says with a smirk before his lips go to the top of her throat and start kissing down her throat.

A throaty moan escapes her mouth as his hand travels down her body.

Putting her head on her husband's naked chest, Jen pants heavily trying to catch her breath back after having amazing sex with her husband.

"Thank you for picking me up that night six months ago." Jen whispers breathlessly before falling asleep.

It had taken them six years and six months to get to this exact place in this Parisian bed, but they wouldn't change a minute of it.

Because they're finally where they were always meant to be:

Married, naked in bed.

In Paris because it's always been:

J , 1999, in Paris- forever.

A\N: Another NCIS JIBBS oneshot with an Happily Ever After ending, enjoy Angels.