A/N: You may already know this but just in case: DON - department of navy, CNO - chief of naval operations. Thanks for reading! : D
Jenny awoke to a gentle caress on her cheek. She rolled over with a smile and gladly welcomed her husband's kiss, thankful for one moment of normalcy.
"Good morning," he said, his voice sleepy.
"Morning." She opened her eyes and stretched.
"Sleep well?" he asked.
Jenny thought about it. "Actually, I did. We should try that falling asleep together thing more often."
"No complaints here." Gibbs slowly sat up. "Ugh. I'm getting too old to be up at 0600."
Jenny swatted his arm. "Don't say that. If you're getting old, it means I am too." She slipped out of bed and pulled the covers flat. "And I refuse to be getting old yet."
"Alright Jen," he chuckled, going through his drawers.
"You mind if I have the shower first?" she asked.
He shook his head, already pulling on pants. "Nope. In fact, I'll do breakfast to order this morning. What is your pleasure?"
Jenny raised an eyebrow. "Did you forget Noemi is back?"
Gibbs shrugged. "Call her and tell her not to show up 'til 0700. I can handle it." He grinned. "She can clean up after the mess I make."
"Alright Jethro, if you're sure," Jenny picked up the phone, hoping to catch Noemi before she left her little house down the street.
"So?" Gibbs looked at her expectantly.
"Oh. Umm...coffee and strawberry toast?"
"Come on Jen, I need something to test my skills. Noemi went shopping. We've got eggs, bacon, oatmeal, cereal. What else?"
Jenny rolled her eyes and sighed. "Maybe a couple pieces of bacon then," she added to appease him.
"It'll be waiting for you," Gibbs promised, heading downstairs.
"Hello Noemi, it's Jenny," she said when her housekeeper and friend answered the phone. "No, nothing is wrong but don't worry about coming in until 7am. Breakfast? Well...Jethro wants to fix it." She laughed. "I'm sure he'll do fine Noemi, but the kitchen might be a bit of a mess. Yes, thank you. Spend some time with Marisol before she goes to school. I'll see you after work. Hmm?" she asked. "Oh, umm, supper probably for 6pm tonight. I'll be home early today but if Jethro is working a case, I'll just warm his up later. Alright. Hasta luego Noemi."
Jenny finished her call and stepped into the bathroom.
NCIS
When Jenny came downstairs half an hour later with part of her hair pulled back in a clip, make-up lightly done, and dressed in a dark blue business suit, she found two plates being kept warm on the stove while her husband sat at the table with his coffee in hand and glasses on, reading the paper.
"What's on your agenda today?" he asked. If possible, Jenny looked more professional than normal.
"DON monthly security meeting and then an appointment with the CNO to discuss our recent investigations."
"Then you're definitely going to need breakfast." He retrieved their plates while Jenny poured herself a cup of coffee.
"You in charge of breakfast is making Noemi nervous," she remarked.
"I am a perfectly capable cook," Jethro replied, sitting down across from her.
"We'll see," Jenny replied archly, lifting a piece of bacon to her mouth. She crunched it slowly and savoured the taste. "Okay," she grinned, "you pass."
"Told you so," Gibbs said smugly. He reached into his pocket and fingered the small object there. "Jen?"
She was staring out the window, watching the sky change colour as the sun slowly rose. "Hmm?"
"I made something for you," he held out his hand to her. "It's for you to hold if you have a flashback or anxiety attack, like Kristyn suggested."
Jenny picked up the small piece of wood carved into the shape of an anchor. She ran her fingers over it, extremely touched by the gesture.
"Thank you honey," she met Gibbs eyes and squeezed his hand. "It's perfect." She slipped it into her jacket pocket. "I'll keep it with me."
"You're welcome Jen," he smiled, taking another sip of coffee.
A couple bites of toast and a cup and a half of coffee later, Jenny checked her watch. "Ooh, we better get going. It's no good for the bosses to be late."
Gibbs pushed himself up from the table and he and Jenny deposited their dirty dishes in the sink, trying to clean up a little for Noemi.
"One of these days we're just both not going to show up for work and leave everyone to speculate," he grumbled.
"Yeah," Jenny laughed, "because you take days off since never."
He shrugged. "Maybe I ought to start."
"And the team?"
"Ah, Tony can keep them in line."
"My agency?"
"It might be tough Jen, but I'm sure they can survive without you for a day or two. Besides, you've got to make Assistant Director Vance useful sometime."
"I would say, 'when pigs fly,' or something of that nature, but you're just stubborn enough to make it happen." She reached for her coat. "Let's go to work Jethro."
NCIS
Timothy McGee walked into work that morning feeling extremely content with his life. Dinner with Abby last night had been great. Even without a Caf-Pow constantly in hand, she was lots of fun to spend time with. He felt a smile spread across his face. And dessert had definitely been worth looking forward to.
He stepped into the squadroom and immediately regretted the smile when he was met by a frowning Tony who stood in McGee's path with his arms crossed. McGee stopped, not sure what was going on. Ziva too was watching him closely from where she sat at her desk.
"What?" he asked.
"Okay McProbilicious, spill," Tony demanded.
McGee frowned. "Spill what?"
"Your secret of course." Tony got right in McGee's face and pointed at him. "There's something going on, and as Senior Field Agent I believe I am required to know about it."
"How so Tony?" Ziva questioned, wanting to see what he'd come up with.
Tony glared at his partner for messing up his flow. "Because. Because...it might...get in the way of his ability to do his job. That's why." He grinned triumphantly, please with himself for the quick answer.
McGee tried to push past his nosy co-worker, but Tony put out an arm to stop him.
"What's the rush Probie?"
"Tony," McGee sighed, "I just want to get to my desk so I can start working before Gibbs gets here."
"Too bad we don't always get what we want McGee. Life's not fair, deal with it."
Ziva stood up and leaned against the side of her desk. "Are you certain there is nothing you want to tell us McGee?"
Tim swallowed nervously and began to slowly back away. He knew Ziva still kept a knife in her belt. "No. No, I don't think there is." He briefly considered just blurting out the news and shocking them both, but didn't have the heart to ruin Abby's fun when she got to see the look on Tony's face.
Giving them a look that said he thought they were both weird, McGee finally made it to his desk. Shiny black kiss shaped stickers had been placed all over the top of his desk, across his keyboard, and up the side of his monitor. His head jerked up and he saw Tony and Ziva snickering.
"What's this?" he asked, his face heating.
Tony shrugged. "We had to figure that any secret you were keeping must have something to do with the lovely black haired Goth downstairs." He leaned closer to McGee, staring into his eyes and speaking in a low voice. "When Gibbs finds out that you're doing after hours forensic work with Abby, he'll kill you."
McGee studied his watch. How was it that Gibbs and the director had made it seven months without anyone guessing they were together, let alone married, but he and Abby couldn't make it a week dating before the whole office figured out what was going on? Not counting Gibbs of course, who knew the day after it happened.
Gibbs walked in with his coffee just then. "Something you want to share with the class DiNozzo?" he asked when he saw Tony hovering beside Tim. He stopped when he caught sight of the decorations on McGee's desk. "McGee!" he thundered, "What the heck are you doing?"
"It wasn't me, honest Boss," McGee began. Gibbs cut him off.
"Get rid of those things and get these samples down to Abby." He dropped a handful of evidence bags on McGee's desk and waved a police report at the group. "Metro just handed us a case. Missing Marine Gunnery Sergeant. Car found on the side of the road near the Naval Academy in Maryland. Blood on the ground and signs of a struggle. Gear up." He pointed at McGee. "Name is Milton Dayes. I want you to track his movements for the last 72 hours. Check his bank and phone records, pull anything remotely suspicious. Do a background check. I want to know what we're dealing with. Let's go!"
Tony and Ziva followed him to the elevator and Tony gleefully waved goodbye at McGee as the doors slid closed. McGee sighed. Grounded again. But at least this time he had a reason to go see his girlfriend.
NCIS
Jenny put on a polite smile, shaking hands with each of the "heads" in the DON. Agent Rafferty from her security detail was beside her as soon as she stepped out of the room. A second agent waited by the elevator.
"Two agents today Tom?" she inquired, surprised. "Was the threat level raised and no one told me?"
Agent Rafferty listened intently to the report he was getting on his earpiece. They were all clear to bring the director down. "We always get a little more cautious when you're on official business off the Navy Yard Director," he informed her, watching the floor numbers light up as they counted down.
Jenny smiled. "And I'm sure the threats from my husband has nothing to do with your vigilance, correct?"
Agent Rafferty bit back a grin. "Special Agent Gibbs has certain...persuasive qualities," he admitted.
Once they had her safely tucked in the black SUV with tinted windows, the driver glanced at Jenny in the rearview mirror.
"Is there anywhere we can stop and pick you up some lunch Ma'am?"
At first Jenny wondered if that question was her husband's handiwork as well, but Graham was always attentive. She relaxed.
"They had some appetizers and sandwiches in the meeting, thank you Graham. But I'd love a coffee."
"Of course Director," Graham nodded, signaling to make a turn. He knew where her favourite coffee shop was.
Jenny didn't want to mention that she'd barely nibbled at what was on her plate. People were starting to worry and she hated that. I'm fine! she insisted to herself, wondering who she was trying to convince.