It was eight-thirty by the time Gibbs and Jenny returned home, bearing leftovers Ziva had insisted they take. "It is too much for me!" she had protested, so while Gibbs changed into something that wasn't dress clothes, Jenny turned on the light in the kitchen and shuffled things around in the fridge to make room for the stirfry bowls.
She had been thinking about something today, wanting to talk to her husband about it, but not knowing how to bring it up. When Gibbs came into the kitchen a few minutes later, Jenny put down what she was holding, turned around and kissed him. She had to smile at the look on his face when she leaned back. Gibbs hadn't expected the kiss, but it was a good kind of surprise.
"Do you think we should try again?" she whispered, staying close.
Gibbs didn't have to ask what she meant, he could see it in her eyes. But this time he wasn't so sure. He took hold of her hands gently, turning them over and rubbing his thumbs lightly over the scars etched into her wrists from her struggle against the ropes.
"I don't know," he said honestly. Looking into Jenny's green eyes, Gibbs saw the confusion there. He sighed. "Don't look at me like that Jen. It's not that I don't want to be with you. You know I do. But last time..." Gibbs closed his eyes. "I lost you for days Jen. This week was rough enough all by itself." He shook his head. "I can't be that distant from you again. It's not good for us."
Jenny looked down, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. "I just want to be us again," she said in a voice so soft he almost missed the words. She'd said it so much the last couple of weeks, wanted it since she'd gotten back, though not always just in the physical sense. When would it happen?
Gibbs pulled her tight against his chest, cupping the back of her head with his hand. "We are us Jenny, we haven't lost anything." He struggled to reassure her and to come up with the words to explain how he saw them. "The way we were before...it's just...hidden for awhile. If us has to be different now, while you're healing, it doesn't mean I don't still love you with all my heart."
She nodded into his chest. Not every day, and not every time she was hurting, but sometimes her husband said exactly the right thing. Jenny wasn't sure how she felt about sex right now. It was a week later, she'd learned a lot, things had been good, bad, worse, and a little ugly at times, but she was still standing. And she was willing to find out what she wanted.
"I want to love you with more than just my heart," she stared into his eyes, willing him to read what she was thinking, what she was feeling.
Gibbs wondered if Jenny knew how irresistible she was when she was just standing ensconced in his arms, looking at him like he was her whole world.
"Jen..." her nearness was almost intoxicating, his protest sounding weaker than he meant for it to. "I won't do something that will just push you further way. I can't lose you again."
Jenny kissed him again, letting her lips linger on his. "I'm not going anywhere," she tried to convince him. "Jethro, all I'm saying is try."
"And if it's like last time?" Gibbs pushed, needing to know what would happen, that the end would be different.
She sighed. "Then I promise you can hold onto me and I won't hate you if you don't let go, even if I act like I want you to."
"I will love you just as much without it Jen," he said hoarsely, unable to tamp down his desire for her any longer. She saw it burst into flames in his eyes, his body warming against hers.
"I know." Jen put her hand softly on his face. "But it's just another way to say 'I love you'. Let me try and say it Jethro."
This time when she kissed him, Gibbs kissed her back, molding his mouth to hers, taking everything from Jenny that she was willing to give in that moment. He let his hands travel down her body, slowly tracing her curves. Then he laid them against her back, pressing her closer to him. And Gibbs knew, that even if they were in the kitchen right now, sooner or later they would make it up to their bedroom. He only hoped they could still look each other in the eye after this try.
NCIS
Sooner or later became sooner, as their kisses got deeper and lasted longer, and their desire for each other grew. Gibbs took his wife's hands, walking backwards, leading them up the staircase. He stopped, every few steps, to taste her again, to be sure that this was real, that she was ready. He never saw any hesitation on her part, only love radiated from those beautiful eyes.
When they made it into their bedroom, they both laughed at the mess that was still on their bed, and it was okay to take a breath for a minute, to quickly hang things up in the closet, and push aside the pile of shoes that cluttered up the floor beside the bed. Jenny walked around Gibbs, spinning away when he reached for her, and raided his drawer for an old NIS t-shirt. It was what she usually wore after they'd made love, mostly because it was what he had taken off, and she always seemed to like his clothes for after more than her own.
When he tried to follow her into the bathroom, Jenny placed a single finger to his lips, a note of seriousness in her eyes, that for the moment covered over her desire.
"What is it Jen?" he asked, hoping she wasn't having second thoughts, trying to prepare himself if she was.
She looked down. "It's too hard...I can't..." she faltered, then took a deep breath and met his eyes. "I just don't want to be naked yet Jethro." She shook her head. "It...it takes me back." Jenny shrugged. "Naked...on a bed," her eyes pleaded with him to understand, "it still scares me."
"Hey," Gibbs said, all husband instead of lover right now, "Jen, I will let you give me whatever you are ready for, but I'm not going to insist on anything. Would I love to see you without anything on? Of course. But if wearing a t-shirt makes you more comfortable, that's okay. Plus," he grinned, "I always think you look great in my shirt."
Jenny swatted him with the t-shirt and he kissed her hand, before she hurried into the bathroom. Tonight she didn't look at her body in the mirror. She didn't want to see what wasn't there anymore, she didn't want to see what was. She didn't want to examine her eyes and see what stories they might tell. All she wanted was to go back out there and love her husband. She stopped short of praying that it wouldn't be awkward this time, or painful, not sure that was appropriate.
Back in their room, Gibbs stripped down to his boxers and stood for a moment, debating whether to wait for Jenny in bed or out of it. Before he could decide, the door to the bathroom opened again, and Jenny stood there in his baggy gray t-shirt, her hair down, looking sweet and innocent and incredibly sexy. Gibbs came forward and kissed her. She followed him to their bed and climbed in after him, getting comfortable under the covers before reaching out to touch him again.
It was so familiar and somehow new all at the same time. They'd done this dance perhaps hundreds of times but there was still a caution to it this night, a hesitancy to their movements, in case she might react badly. Gibbs waited for Jenny to make the first move, and it seemed an achingly long time before she reached out and put her hand on his chest. Gibbs moved closer, framing her face with his hands and capturing her lips again.
While they kissed, Jenny's hands began to wander from his chest down to his stomach, up his back, across his shoulders, setting his skin on fire wherever she touched. He moaned against her mouth, and she let his tongue in, closing her eyes and kissing him back with equal passion. She settled back against the pillows, and Gibbs laid his body over hers, careful not to rest his full weight on her. He traced the graceful curve of her neck down to her shoulders, and kissed the skin around her collar bone. Jenny tangled her legs with his and pulled him closer, enjoying the soft kisses he pressed to her eyelids, down her nose, and on her earlobes.
Before too long, she was fingering the waistband of his boxers and Gibbs got the hint and discarded them without moving away from her. The next step was when he began to slowly inch up the t-shirt covering her. Jenny knew what was coming, and although this was what she wanted, a little fear still sat rooted in her mind, wondering if it would hurt. His kisses were a good distraction though, her mind was clouded by passion for her husband.
They had only just started when Jenny's eyes suddenly flew open, and she pushed Gibbs away, making a dash for the bathroom, a hand over her mouth. Grabbing bottoms, Gibbs leapt off the bed and went after her. Jenny was leaning over the toilet, one hand keeping her hair out of her face, and the other supporting her weight on the seat. Gibbs twisted her hair together and held it away from her face, rubbing her back as she retched.
Finally she sat back on the floor, flushing the toilet and wiping a hand over her mouth. Jenny looked up and forced a laugh. "So much for our romantic evening, huh? I'm sorry," she flickered her eyes to his. "Gosh, I don't know what's wrong with me!"
She stood up and went over to the sink, rinsing out her mouth and quickly brushing her teeth to get rid of the taste. Gibbs knew he hated being sick. He reached for her face cloth and handed it to her, receiving a mumbled thanks. Running it under the hottest water possible, Jenny pressed the cloth to her face, soaking in the heat. When it had dissipated, she wiped her face and turned to face him.
Gibbs came to her and pulled her close, meaning the hug to be comforting, but his body was screaming at her nearness. His muscles were quivering, he wanted her so badly. But his head, thankfully still in control, told him he better fix this or he could lose her again. He knew she'd be self-conscious, maybe embarrassed about what happened. But it certainly wasn't like she could help it.
He pulled back so he could look into her eyes. "Are you okay?"
She nodded. "I feel fine now. I don't know why I got sick. Delayed reaction or something?" She stamped her bare foot, feeling frustrated. "I thought I was ready this time Jethro, I really thought it would be okay."
Gibbs lowered his head and began putting a trail of kisses all over her face and down her neck. Jenny leaned her head to the side, welcoming his touch. She wasn't afraid to have him touch her like this, something she considered a good sign.
His voice was a little breathless when he stopped and looked at her again. "Jen, if you don't want to, if you're not ready, that's fine." Gibbs rested his forehead against hers. "Don't think you have to make yourself ready for me. I can wait." He chuckled, knowing his body was reacting contrary to that statement, and Jenny managed a small smile "I would never do anything to hurt you. Please, tell me you know that."
Jenny rested her hands on his face, kissing him with surprising strength. She twined her arms around his neck, her eyes never leaving his. "I do," she said softly, then amended that statement. "Well, part of me knows that. The other part is still scared sometimes because of what he did, and what's left over is wondering if we will ever get back what was stolen."
Gibbs kissed her again, long and slow and tenderly. "We'll get it back Jen," he whispered when he could breathe. "But if it doesn't happen tonight, I have no trouble laying in bed for awhile and making out with my wife."
The grin he gave her was very suggestive, and Jenny couldn't help but smile back. "Well," she said, walking two fingers up his chest, "that sounds rather like an offer I can't refuse."
Just for that, Gibbs pressed his lips lightly to hers, then took her hand as Jenny willingly followed him back into the bedroom. If this was what they could have right now, Gibbs knew he would take it. The time they spent together after that was sweet, as much as it was sometimes passionate too. There was kissing, and touching, and whispered words, and sometimes no words at all.
Jenny fell asleep an hour later curled on her side. Gibbs, however, lay there for a long time watching her body move as she breathed, drawing his fingers through her hair, and running them lightly down her back. He didn't want to lose contact with her, even to sleep, and his hand was resting on her hip when he finally closed his eyes that night.
NCIS
Hours later, Jenny was snapped out of a sound sleep when her husband grabbed her suddenly, and for a moment she was afraid, there was something desperate about his touch.
"No, no, stop! Jenny!" he cried, and when she rolled over she could tell he was dreaming. But the way his muscles tense and his face was contorted told her it was not just any dream, but a nightmare.
She tried to move, but he just held her tighter, so tight it was almost uncomfortable, his hands rough. Jenny struggled against him, and suddenly his eyes opened, and he immediately released her, turning away, his breaths coming hard and fast. She frowned, confused. Normally if he was dreaming about her, he woke up wanting to have her in his arms. This seemed to be the exact opposite.
Jenny hesitated to touch him, afraid of causing him more distress, and suddenly she wondered if this was how her husband felt, when she woke after seeing the bunker in her sleep. Tentatively she reached over and rested her fingertips on his shoulder. He flinched and she withdrew, feeling helpless. But Gibbs had been there for her when she needed him, he hadn't left even when she'd pushed him away. So now it was her turn.
"Jethro?" she said softly. A slight turning of his head indicated that he was listening, so she tried again, sliding a little bit closer. "Jethro, look at me." He held still for a long time, as if giving this request a great deal of though. "Please honey," she added, waiting. Finally he rolled over, and she nearly winced at the pain in his eyes.
Wanting to help, wanting to do anything that would take away that hurt, Jenny put her hand against his cheek. Gibbs' eyes closed and he looked almost ready to cry. She was completely baffled. What would cause a reaction like that? Moving even nearer, she put her other hand on his chest, wondering if he would let her hold him.
Gibbs hesitated, unable to erase the images in his head, what he'd seen while he was sleeping. It was awful, and he cringed just remembering it. Only Jenny's soft hand on his cheek kept him grounded. Finally he gave in, and Jenny sensed it in the way his body relaxed a fraction. She wrapped her arms around him then, undeniably relieved when his arms came around her as well, his grip nearly crushing as he tried to reassure himself that she was okay, all the while wondering how okay was even possible anymore.
Jenny waited, minutes and minutes passed, and finally she dared to ask. "Will you tell me Jethro? What you saw that was so awful?"
"Jenny," his voice broke and he buried his head closer into her neck, letting out a sigh, "I don't think I can."
Wishing she could do something to make him feel better, to relieve whatever it was that was causing him so much distress, Jenny accepted his answer.
"It's alright," she whispered. "I just thought you might feel better if you talked about it."
Gibbs rubbed his eyes. "I don't know of anything that would make this feel better." Jenny's response was to hold him tighter, and Gibbs couldn't have been more thankful for her touch. That she was there beside him in bed, safe, helped. And after awhile he wondered if he should share the dream.
"You won't let go, will you Jen?" he asked. "If I tell you what I was dreaming?"
Jenny pulled back from him only far enough so he could see the truth in her eyes. "I will never let you go Jethro, I promise."
Gibbs brought her to him again, unable to look into her face while he recounted the nightmare. "I was there," he began, "in the bunker." At that word, Jenny's body stiffened for a moment, but he could feel her consciously decide to relax again. "And.." he closed his eyes again, but that only made the images more vivid. "And I saw what he was doing to you Jenny. Oh gosh, I could see him hurting you, I could hear you screaming, but I couldn't move. I was trying to get to my gun, I was trying to yell at him, to tell him to get away from you, but he couldn't hear me, and you couldn't see that I was trying to save you. Oh geez Jenny, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!"
Only with the greatest concentration, and by putting her focus on her husband and the guilt he felt, was Jenny able to keep herself from remembering what her husband had seen. Only the combination of his interrogation with her attacker and what she'd told him of her story, would enable his subconscious to create a picture that vivid.
"Jethro," she crooned his name over and over, "oh honey, I'm so sorry. It's okay. I know...I knew that whole time I was there, that you wouldn't stop until you found me. It's not your fault, please don't think it's your fault."
Jenny held him tighter, trying to love away the hurt he had to be feeling. No matter what she did or said, she knew that she couldn't save him from the guilt he felt for not being by her side that night, for not getting to the bunker in time to stop her from ever being hurt. She didn't blame him, she could never blame him. Jethro loved her, and he was the only one who would be able to get her through to the other side of healing.
Gibbs body heaved, and when Jenny felt his warm tears on her neck, she couldn't keep her own back. So they held each other, and they cried, for what was lost, for the hurt of that forty hours, and the healing most days they were just trying to survive. Jenny whispered every kind of comfort she could think of, and Gibbs drank it in like a man who had never tasted water. In a way, though it made Gibbs aware of a burden he didn't even know he carried, that time together, holding each other, was another step to healing both their hearts.
At last he shifted, laying back on the mattress, frustrated for having seen something he didn't want to see, and for shedding tears he never used. Jenny didn't say a word, she just curled her body into his side, resting her ear over his heart and placing her palm on his chest. After a moment, Gibbs put his hand over hers, and used his other arm to keep her close. They fell asleep like that, and Gibbs wondered how long it would be before he could want Jenny and not see the image now burned into his mind.
But Jenny's only thoughts were for her husband, wishing he'd been spared the pictures she carried with her. As her eyes grew heavier and her breathing slowed, Jenny knew she had to reaffirm it, one last time.
"I love you," she whispered. And it was the last thing he remembered before sleep took over once more.