A/N: Just as a vague time reference, this chapter occurs sometime during Season 7. This chapter is also much less angsty and depressing than the other two, and in fact was quite enjoyable for me to write. So if your heart needs a little healing after those other two, maybe this one will help a little bit.
The meeting had started less than three minutes ago and Jethro Gibbs was already wanting to stab himself with the nearest sharp object.
Mandatory Sexual Harassment meetings were always the worst.
His entire team and a small assortment of other NCIS workers were all together in one of the small conference rooms. He was standing awkwardly against a wall, trying to avoid eye contact with everyone but still keep an eye on his team.
He glanced over at Ziva, who was already trying to bug DiNozzo by poking him in the thigh. He shook his head a little, knowing he should have made sure they weren't sitting anywhere near each other. He should have known better, considering the sexual harassment meeting three years ago—when they caused a scene because Ziva licked Tony's neck.
It was a stark reminder of a couple of sexual harassment meetings in the past...ones that involved a certain agent he used to work with. The ex-agent who had been right beside him during the licking situation. The ex-agent who kept glancing at him awkwardly during that entire meeting because their past together definitely did not fall into the "green light" category.
He looked to his side, wishing suddenly that Director Jenny Shepard was sitting beside him again—no matter how many awkward or challenging glances she shot his way. He couldn't deny that she had always made those meetings more entertaining in a way. The only sexual harassment meetings he actually remembered were ones that had involved Jenny—except for the first one he had attended with Mike Franks, but he chose to forget he remembered that one.
He smirked, remembering the one he and Jenny had been required to attend after they had gotten back from the surveillance part of their Paris op—right after they had become more than just "partners"—
"Jen," Jethro growled, smacking her hand away for the fifth time.
She wouldn't stop trying to rub his thigh, and he just wanted her to keep her hands to herself. As if sexual harassment meetings weren't bad enough, he didn't need his new, hot, redheaded lover touching him on top of it. All it was doing was making his mind go elsewhere, making him want to get out of the damn meeting as soon as possible and pin her up against a wall.
He cursed under his breath, trying to concentrate on the paper in front of him.
"Something wrong?" She whispered mischievously.
He just shot her a glare in response before looking back down at his paper.
They had all been handed this ridiculous little test, in which it listed various examples or situations. They were supposed to to decide which ones were examples of "appropriate" behavior, by either circling the "Yes" or the "No" next to them.
The answers were so obvious he was pretty sure even the stupidest criminals he knew could ace it. He wondered why they were all wasting their precious time on this when they could be out there catching people responsible for things so much worse than these examples.
He felt her hand on his thigh again, and this time she moved it daringly high—reminding him of just why he hadn't actually managed to finish the simple test yet.
"Quit distractin' me," he muttered, grabbing her hand and moving it over to herself.
"I'm bored," she complained quietly.
"Not my problem," he responded.
He felt her lean in closer to him, and suddenly felt her hot breath on his ear.
"And this test is just reminding me of what I'd rather be doing instead," she whispered in his ear, sending tingling sensations shooting through his body.
He let out a pained groan and circled another response on the test.
The last time he had been in one of these meetings with Jenny she had also been completely distracting. She was just his probie at the time, and nothing inappropriate had occurred between them—yet. She had just distracted him then by constantly complaining, making witty and suggestive remarks under her breath, and poking him.
In other words, exactly what she had been doing this entire meeting as well, except that now she was even more bold. Her distractions then had been more amusing and somewhat annoying—now they were just plain sinful and torturous.
He circled the second to last answer, and nearly jumped up out of his chair when her hand suddenly drifted right into the middle of his lap.
He grabbed her hand and squeezed the pressure point between her thumb and index finger in retaliation, eliciting a quiet gasp of pain from her.
He was glad they were in the back in the room where less people were.
"You're no fun," she chided, rubbing her hand before smacking him in the arm.
He smirked and circled the last answer, putting his pen down.
He glanced over at her, watching as she closed her eyes and relaxed in her chair. He looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to them.
He reached his hand out and pressed it on the inside of her thigh, making her tense visibly, before he moved his hand a little higher underneath her skirt.
She sucked in her breath and grabbed his hand, pushing it away back towards him.
"Thought ya wanted me to be 'fun'," he drawled, shooting her a triumphant look.
This time she was the one responding with a glare.
He decided he wasn't done with his revenge yet, and reached his hand out again and moved it behind her. He found the top of her skirt and slid his hand down it, pressing his hand against her butt.
She flinched and reached out and squeezed his elbow hard, making him withdraw his hand. She stood up, grabbed their papers, and marched to the front of the room where the instructor was sitting. He watched her hand the papers over and talk quietly to the instructor. She walked back to where Jethro was and looked at him, indicating with a jerk of her head that she wanted him to follow her. He looked around warily and got up.
As soon as they walked out of the room and the door was closed behind them, she grabbed his hand and dragged him behind her as she walked.
"We're not supposed to leave those meetings early," he pointed out, not wanting to get lectured by Morrow later.
"I told the instructor we had a case come up and it couldn't wait," she explained.
He lifted his eyebrows at her back.
"We don't—"
"I know that," she snapped, interrupting him and smacking the elevator button.
"Then why—?"
"Because," she said, pulling him into the elevator when the doors opened, "those meetings are pointless, boring, and tedious. I have something better in mind."
The doors closed around them and the elevator began to whir, and Jenny reached out and flipped the switch, causing the light to go off as the elevator halted. He felt a little self-satisfied that she was now executing one of his trademark moves.
She reached up and grabbed his face, pulling it down to hers and kissing him hungrily.
He pulled his face away from hers and she began to suck on his neck instead.
"Geez, Jen, you really get that hot and bothered in there?" He asked, looking down at her smugly.
"You're the one who could barely take my hand on your thigh," she said as she shucked his suit jacket off.
"You're the one lyin' in order to drag me in here. And you say men have no self control," he teased, watching her pull his belt off.
"Are you really trying to sabotage what I'm offering right now, Jethro?" She asked him, giving him a pointed look. "Or are you going to shut up and kiss me?"
Her sultry voice practically invaded his senses, and he swallowed. He pressed his lips to her neck and pulled her closer.
"Think this would fall under the 'no' category," he quipped, slipping a hand up her shirt.
"Just make me scream 'yes' and I don't think it will be a problem, boss," she purred, making him feel like he was going to loose all self control right then and there.
"Boss."
"Jen," he mumbled.
"Boss, wake up."
"Jen?" Jethro Gibbs questioned tiredly, opening his eyes.
He realized with a start he had fallen asleep, remembering suddenly that he had been in a meeting. He looked around him, people were bustling noisily out of the room, and DiNozzo was kneeling beside him.
He remembered he had been thinking about old memories during the meeting, and then ended up sitting down on the floor against the wall because he had gotten tired of standing. He must have drifted off when he was in memory lane.
"Meeting is over," DiNozzo said, giving him a concerned look.
Normally he would expect DiNozzo to tease him about falling asleep, hold it over him—instead he was just giving him this anxious look.
He felt a little embarrassed, remembering suddenly that he had said Jenny's name when he woke up. He hoped DiNozzo wouldn't be stupid enough to point it out, that he would just act like he hadn't heard.
DiNozzo stood up and offered his hand, and Jethro grudgingly took it.
"I'll take that as consent," DiNozzo said as he helped pull him up.
"What?" Jethro questioned, feeling irritated suddenly.
DiNozzo smirked at him.
"You know, I offered my hand and you took it, so I'm taking that as consent. Wouldn't want my boss reporting me for any 'red light behavior'," DiNozzo teased.
Jethro couldn't help but smile, remembering why DiNozzo had always been such a likable, pain in the ass all these years. He had always had a very similar sense of humor to the fiery woman Jethro had trained so many years ago, before she had become the responsible and serious "Director".
He smacked DiNozzo on the back of the head, lighter than usual.
"Come on, DiNozzo," he said, walking towards the door. "You better have some leads on our case by the time I come back from getting coffee," he said threateningly.
DiNozzo yelped, rushing out past him, and Jethro chuckled to himself.
When he made it back to the bullpen, fresh cup of coffee in hand, he peered over at his team. DiNozzo, Ziva, McGee, Abby, and Palmer were all laughing about something, apparently joking around. He looked up to the catwalk, where Ducky was standing next to an amused looking Vance, animatedly telling the Director a story.
Jethro shook his head and smiled, deciding that no matter how many changes had occurred during his 19 years at NCIS, there were always colleagues—friends—to be grateful for. He knew from his years of experience that it wasn't something to take for granted, because they could easily be gone the next day.