A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to thank you all for continuing to read and review this story. The feedback has been great and I'm looking forward to this last week with Gibbs and Jenny. Also, just to let you know, I'm going to be away this weekend for New Years and won't have access to internet or my computer, so these will be the last new chapters until Monday night, maybe Tuesday. Thanks again and Happy New Year everybody! :D See you in 2011!
For once Jenny was the first to wake up. She awoke slowly, registering different things as her brain cells rebooted and her senses perked up. She was laying on Jethro's chest, the hair there soft against her cheek. She listened, but heard only slow, even breathing coming from her husband, so he was still sleeping. And please God having a better dream than the one he had last night, she though, repressing a shiver.
His arm was solid at her back, but lax, his other hand no longer covering hers. It was sunny out today, and probably time they were getting up, if they didn't want to be late for church. Abby would never forgive them. But Jenny was content to stay in bed a little longer. After a few moments, she reached her hand back and slowly moved Gibbs' arm away from her waist. If he immediately reacted, she would stay where she was, not wanting to cause him any distress.
But his breathing didn't change, and after another minute passed, Jenny slowly sat up, pulling her legs up and just watching her husband. There was no denying Mrs. Mallard was right, her husband was a very handsome man. Sexy silver, hair, those ice blue eyes that saw right through her, a square jaw, hard muscular arms from hours shaping his precious boats, fit body...Jenny smiled. She was one lucky woman.
And the things she loved the best about him, were the things no one else saw. His strong heart. Though beaten and bruised and scarred up by the twists and turns of life and duty, just as his body was, it was still capable of an enormous amount of love and caring. Jenny appreciated his protective instincts, even when they bordered on smothering. She loved his stubbornness, sometimes they fought just so they could make up, and he didn't back down when it was something important, not even to her.
Calloused hands that could hold her as gently as he would a newborn baby. Feet used to chasing down bad guys could also waltz her around a room, moving lightly and gracefully, dancing was another of their languages of love. The guy who didn't like TV or movies at all, would sit through a chick flick just to have an excuse to hold her close. And the tough, hard man who lead his team with a make it or break it attitude, had started courting her all over again, lavishing her with expressions of love, demonstrating over and over again that she could trust him, that he wasn't going anywhere, that they were in this together.
Oh how she loved this man! What her life would be like without him...Jenny didn't even want to think about that. He was her gift, her unexpected delight. She was forever thankful that she'd gone over to his house that night, to tell him the truth she'd been hiding and running away from for seven years. If she hadn't, they might not be here like this at all. And Jenny had no desire at all to spend any of her life without Jethro.
Finally Gibbs stirred, noticing first that he could no longer feel Jenny against him, which would have brought him instant concern if he couldn't also tell there were eyes on him. Good old agent instincts. He sighed.
"You know I can't sleep with you watching me Jen."
Jenny smiled. "How did you know? Your eyes are still closed."
He smirked. "Babe, I would be able to feel your gaze on me even if we were in a room with a thousand other people."
"Got skills, huh?" she teased, and he opened his eyes.
Red hair hanging over her shoulders and trailing down her back. His t-shirt still covering her body. Delicate legs pulled up to her chest. Those crazy green eyes he fell for every time. And smiling lips he wanted to use for another purpose.
"You forgot something," he said, lazily closing his eyes again.
Jenny tilted her head. "What's that?"
He smiled. "My good morning kiss."
"Ohh...that," Jenny said. "Okay." She got onto her knees and leaned forward, pecking his cheek. "How's that?"
Gibbs frowned and opened one eye to look at her again. "Not exactly the kind of kiss I was thinking about."
She raised her eyebrows. "And what kind of kiss were you hoping for Jethro?"
Gibbs reached over to hook his hand behind her head, and slowly drew her down to him. "This kind," he whispered, moving his lips over hers. One small kiss turned into an open mouthed kiss, that was deeper and lasted longer than either of them had expected. When they finally had to pull apart to breath, Jenny smiled up at him.
"Good morning."
He laughed. "Morning Jen." Stretching, he sighed. "Are you sure it's time to get up?"
"Do you really want to try to explain to Abby why you're late?"
"I give. Breakfast?"
Jenny chuckled. "We're just going to have it for lunch anyways. I was thinking about a glass of orange juice." Gibbs gave her a look and she sighed. "And a slice of toast with strawberry jam?"
"Better," Gibbs said, finally dragging himself into a sitting position. "You know, that sounds pretty good to me too."
"Except you want blueberry jam or marmalade, yes?"
Gibbs considered his choices. "I'll have what you're having."
She poked him in the side. "You just want the shower first." There was something in his eyes, and Jenny was sure he was going to ask her to join him, she could read it there as clearly as if it were printed in a book. But then a shadow crossed his face and he looked away, leaving her confused. Something to think about later.
"I'll fight you for it," he offered, dredging up a smile. In their case it didn't mean a physical or a verbal fight. Ever since he could remember, probably when Tony joined the team, disputes tended to be settled by a simple game, or three, of Rock, Paper, Scissors. While juvenile and entirely senseless, it seemed to work quite well, and he and Jenny had adopted it as well, to settle decisions when neither would give or they were both trying to be nice.
"That's okay," she moved to climb off her side of the bed, "I can get things ready so you can eat when you get out."
Jenny knew him too well. Gibbs could tell just by the subtle shift in her demeanor, that she had seen more in his eyes than he'd wanted her to. He would love to have Jenny sharing the shower with him, he'd wanted it for days. But the dream from last night wouldn't let go of him, and anything that looked like desire, he was afraid of right now. Kissing and holding her was one thing, trying to go any further now that he had a deeper understanding of what she went through, was something Gibbs was not prepared to face just yet.
Down in the kitchen, Jenny went through the motions of making a quick breakfast, but her mind was far away. She couldn't remember a time in their relationship where she had seen desire in his eyes and Gibbs had done nothing about it. Now granted, sometimes their location prevented them from doing anything about their desire. But today they were at home, alone, with enough extra time that perhaps something could've happened. And it puzzled her.
Had the dream affected him that much? Maybe it's because Jenny was more used to the images of her attack, if one could get used to that sort of thing, that it didn't impact her quite as profoundly. Or perhaps this was the first time Gibbs had thought that much about what she'd actually suffered, that it was causing a change in his behaviour. Either way, Jenny didn't like it. As it was, she wasn't sure what her answer would've been, but she still wished her husband has asked the question.
Feeling a little disgruntled and knowing she had no right to be, Jenny had been the main one keeping them from going any further than kissing for the last few weeks, she tried to let the emotions go. But it proved to be an intense struggle inside herself, and it was harder than she expected to put on a smile and act normal when her husband came downstairs less than fifteen minutes later.
Jenny cautiously nibbled at her toast, not wanting a repeat of last night's throwing up episode. The orange juice agreed better with her, and she had two glasses before hurrying upstairs to get ready for church. By nine-thirty they were out the door and Jenny was surprised when Gibbs reached for her hand in the car. But if that's what he was comfortable with, she would take it. So she smiled at him, a genuine one this time, and tried to remember that she was only just getting a taste of what her husband had been dealing with for the longest three weeks of their lives.
Gibbs chanced a side glance at Jenny, glad to see her content. He'd known her smile was fake when he came downstairs, and he figured she was trying to work out what was going on with him. She seemed better after her shower, like she'd accepted an unchangeable fact, and now he was just glad to have her sitting there, holding his hand.
He couldn't change what he was feeling right now, so he was grateful for her understanding. Nearly everyone from their group was waiting for them at the bottom of the church steps when they pulled into the parking lot. Jenny waved at Abby, and the two of them joined their friends, keeping their fingers linked together.
Abby kept scanning the parking lot impatiently, while McGee stood by her side and kept a hand on her back.
"Where is he?" she demanded after several minutes had gone by.
Ziva rolled her eyes. "You know Tony. The man will be late for his own funeral." Then she screwed up her face. "How is that even possible?" she questioned. "Dead is dead, you cannot be on time or late for dying."
The team exchanged glances and Jenny tapped her cheek thoughtfully. "That's a good question Ziva. I think part of the problem with our American sayings is that they are so ingrained in our speech, we rarely take time to figure out whether they make sense or not."
"You should try learning English sometime," Ziva complained. "It is not my favourite language." She muttered something in Hebrew that none of them dared to ask her to translate.
Just then Tony's Mustang came screeching into the lot. He jumped out and jogged towards the group, his suit looking a little disheveled. "You wouldn't believe the traffic this morning," he began, only to be silenced by Abby's dark glare. He attempted a grin, but it fell quickly. "Okay, okay, stop giving me the death look. I slept in, I'm sorry. But I'm here now. Are we good?"
Abby eyed him for another minute and finally smiled, linking her arm with his. "Well, at least you're here. Hopefully Father Nate is a little bit late getting to the pulpit. Let's go!"
Like good little followers, the team fell into place behind Abby as she led them all into the church and proudly sat with them all in her pew. She sat there, grinning radiantly, with McGee on one side holding her lace glove encased hand, and Tony on the other. Ziva sat beside McGee and Jenny between Tony and Gibbs.
It was a nice little group, although anyone who glanced casually at them would never guess that the assassin, the geek, the Goth, the playboy, the politician, and the Marine belonged to the same family. But it didn't have to make sense to anyone else, all the mattered was that it worked for the team and it made Abby happy. Gibbs squeezed Jenny's hand and tuned into the announcements, smiling just a little, happy to be right where he was.
NCIS
"Hey!" Tony protested. "I was not the one that started that popcorn fight last night. That was McGeek here, looking all boyish and innocent."
"I was trying to catch the kernels in my mouth Tony, I was not throwing them at you," McGee countered.
"Yeah, uhuh, and then one lands in Ziva's hair and I get blamed for throwing popcorn and then all of popcorndom broke loose. You guys even had the Autopsy Gremlin against me!"
"That is the problem with always being the one to start trouble Tony," Ziva stated matter of factly, "when it is not your fault, you still look guilty and must be proven innocent."
"I'm having security cameras installed," Tony grumbled.
"Do not be such a sport spoil," Ziva returned.
Tony rolled his eyes. "I give up."
"Give up on what?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Your English Ziva, you're never going to get it right."
The dagger look she shot at him and the brief exclamation in Hebrew caused Tony's attention to suddenly be elsewhere.
"It's too bad Ducky and his mother couldn't come today," Abby lamented.
"I'm kind of glad they stayed home Abs," Tony admitted. "Mrs. Mallard scares me."
Abby frowned. "She's just a sweet old lady Tony."
"Yeah, except you're not the one always getting called an Italian gigolo and being asked to move random furniture and threatened with disembowelment when she can't remember who you are after the first two seconds." He crossed his arms. "I like my insides."
"Well I remind her of a sister she hates," Abby pointed out, "she keeps flirting with Gibbs and she never gets his name right. She's afraid McGee is going to shoot her and wonders why Palmer isn't getting her a drink. It's not like you're the only one."
"Well, I feel picked on," Tony muttered.
"Relax DiNozzo," Gibbs put in. "She's ninety-six years old, give her a break."
It was nearing one o'clock and the group had taken over the small diner for the last hour. Upon Abby's insistence, everyone ordered breakfast, something which confused poor Ziva to no end and Abby's explanation only made it worse. In the end though, those at their table feasted on everything from bacon and eggs, to omelettes, to toasted westerns, pancakes, and waffles.
Their waitress, Cathy, who thought she knew this 'family' when it just included Abby, Gibbs, and Jenny, was now completely thrown with the inclusion of three extra people and how the younger ones all acted like siblings, for the most part. When she saw Abby kiss McGee on the cheek, and the way Tony looked at Ziva when she wasn't paying attention to him, she finally gave up and decided not to ask.
"So," Jenny sat back and smiled, pushing her plate away, "what does everyone have planned for the afternoon?"
"Tim and I are taking Jethro to the dog park," Abby smiled. "He's got a date with a cute black lab."
"Abby," McGee shook his head, "Jethro does not have a date. He's a bachelor. Just him and me." At her raised eyebrow look he quickly amended his answer. "And you of course, when you're around."
"That's better," Abby told him, hoping that she would be around a whole lot more in the very near future. She was getting tired of just the snippets of life they shared. If McGee was planning forever, he better hurry up. Abby was not a patient person. But she knew even if McGee waited a year to ask her (heaven forbid!) she would be ready to say yes. She loved him and that was not going to change with time, expect that maybe she would love him a little bit more every day.
Ziva rested her face in her hands. "I was thinking about going for a run," she told them. "Sunday is my lay-in day."
"'Sleep in' Ziva. 'Lay-in' is an English expression."
Ziva punched him in the arm. "We are speaking English, are we not Tony?"
"No," he sighed. "I mean English-English, like what they speak in Britain."
"Is it not all the same language?" He was not making any sense at all.
"Well, it is, except for the accent, you know, and the royalty...but that's not the point. It's like, Ducky language, not good old, every day, American English."
She rolled her eyes. "And you wonder why I get confused."
"Ahh, it' s more fun that way," Tony grinned, ruffling her hair. Then he couldn't breathe for a minute, because Ziva elbowed him in the chest and knocked the wind out of him.
McGee high-fived Ziva and Gibbs just sipped his coffee. "You kind of deserved that one Tony."
"This is so not my day," he groaned.
"And how is that different from every other day?" Ziva asked gleefully.
He glared at her. "Normally, my life is like a James Bond movie. Great car, nice shoes, expensive clothes, beautiful women, high tech agent skills...you know."
Abby laughed. "I think you watched one too many Bond movies at our sleepover Tony. It's gone to your head."
"It was already in his head," Ziva argued, "and that is the problem." She fluttered her hands in frustration. "He does not live in reality."
"Not in your reality maybe, but mine is good for a whole lot of creative thinking."
Just as Ziva took a breath to launch into another argument on reality, Gibbs held up his hand. "And I think this is where we get off. Time to head home, all of you," he said pointedly. The team grumbled a little bit and all reached into wallets or purses for money to contribute to the total. Gibbs and Jenny left a generous tip for Cathy, in thanks for having dealt with all of them.
Once outside, there were hugs all around from Abby, kisses on the cheek, and handshakes.
"0730 tomorrow!" Gibbs reminded his team, even though they wouldn't dream of coming in any later.
Tony followed Ziva to her car and she glanced at him suspiciously. "What do you want Tony? I am through arguing with you. I need to go."
"Well, that's the thing. I just happened to have my running stuff here, and I was wondering if I could join you."
"You want to...come for a run with me?" Ziva asked, completely surprised. "I do not think you will be able to keep up."
"Pfft. Come on, Ziva, you're looking at the king of fitness."
She looked him up and down and patted his tummy gently. "Yes, I think you have two pack there, fitness king," she grinned.
"Hey!" he said. "Don't underestimate what this physique is capable of. I've got...you know...skills."
"I run five miles Tony," Ziva informed him with a straight face, enjoying how he paled slightly and then tried to cover it up.
"I'm good for eight," he boasted.
Ziva continued to her car, waving her keys at him. "Fine. Come. But I think you will be eating my dirt."
Tony rolled his eyes. "'Dust."
Ziva looked at her car. "Where?"
Tony shook his head. "Never mind. I'll follow you?"
"Yes," Ziva smiled, "you will be."
Abby and McGee had come together, and so left together, wanting to stop at Abby's first so she could change out of church clothes into something more suitable for playing with Jethro. Gibbs and Jenny watched the team split up and leave, before he held the door for her to get into the car.
"So, what do you want to do this fine afternoon Mrs. Gibbs?" her husband asked with a smile.
"Do you want to go to the park?" she asked. "Nice day for a walk, maybe a jog around on the path?"
"Sunday afternoon is always a great time to be with my favourite person," he told her. "I'm game."
"Let's go change," Jenny suggested. "And you might have to buy me ice cream later."
Gibbs kissed her hand. "I think I can handle that." He put the car in drive and headed for home. It looked like it was going to be a good day.