A/N: I'm not sure when my next update will be, as my work schedule is beyond crazy right now, but I promise to do my best. Hope you enjoy this newest chapter! I think it's the one most of you have been waiting for.
Shepard
On the anniversary of her sister's death, Jennifer Shepard was miraculously sober, though she had seriously considered getting so drunk that she forgot her own name. She had spent the better part of her day avoiding her thoughts, burying herself in her work so much that she hadn't even noticed that Tim McGee had called off sick, or that Tony DiNozzo had spent his entire day mindlessly flipping through a magazine, not even pretending to work.
"Hey, Shep. You okay?"
"Mhmm..." she muttered distractedly.
Frowning, DiNozzo stood up from his desk, walking closer to her, and as he stopped in front of her, he noticed that she was simply staring at the file in front of her, not even truly reading it.
"Hey, Red...you got a minute?"
"Not really. Can't you see that I'm busy?"
He frowned again.
"Looks to me like you're just sitting there. Listen, Jenny...I just...I know that today is hard for you, and if you need to head out early, I wanted you to know that I can hold down the fort until tomorrow."
At last, his words registered in her cluttered mind, and though she fully intended to refuse him, the words that came out of her own mouth shocked her.
"Thanks, Tony. I appreciate that."
Had it not been such a serious occasion, Jenny would have laughed at the outright look of shock on his face.
Saturdays were Jenny's least favourite day normally, mainly because she had no work to distract her if she and her team weren't in the office, but she was determined to make this one be the exception. Walking the short distance to one Leroy Jethro Gibbs' apartment, she knocked sharply on the door, leaning casually against the frame as she waited for an answer. The door swung open seconds after she'd almost decided to give up, and when she noticed him standing in front of her, she smiled.
"Hey."
"Hi. Thought you'd be at work all day."
She shrugged.
"Cut out early. DiNozzo's got it covered for now."
He looked at her curiously but said nothing, looking into her eyes as he stepped back to allow her entrance. There was a sadness in her eyes that he'd only encountered when she'd been thinking of her sister, and as she closed the door behind her, he looked at her again, his eyes concerned.
"You okay?"
She sighed, looking at him slowly, and as he gestured for her to sit, she shook her head.
"I don't think so. Not today."
He frowned, knowing that if she'd openly admitted something was wrong, it must be serious.
"How can I help?"
"I think...I think I need someone right now."
Gibbs nodded, his eyes never leaving hers, and though she hadn't said so directly, he knew she meant that she needed him in that moment. It didn't matter that she hadn't named him outright; she was here, and that said more than any words ever could. She reached for his hand, moving closer as she shrugged off her jacket, and as it fell to the floor, she brought her mouth to his.
It was a kiss so desperate that he could taste her need, and as she tangled her hands in his hair, she whispered his name softly.
"Please," she said quietly, "help me forget."
He kissed her again, leading her to the couch, and for once he was thankful that it was wide enough for them both to lay comfortably. Her hands slid under his shirt, touching his skin slowly, and when she pulled it over his head, she tossed it to the ground with a smile. His fingers found her ponytail, pulling her hair free, and as it tumbled around her shoulders, he kissed her throat, breathing in the scent of her perfume.
Going purely on instinct, Gibbs ran his hands over her body, his fingers touching her denim-clad legs slowly, smiling to himself when he heard her breath catch in her throat. He still wasn't sure how far she was willing to go, and as he pulled back to look in her eyes, they were hazy with desire.
"Jen...?"
"It's okay," she whispered.
She pulled him closer, kissing him again, and as his fingers found the buttons on her blue Oxford, she reached for his belt, tossing it over her shoulder. She didn't stop kissing him, even as he pushed her shirt from her body, leaving her in only her jeans and undergarments, and when he met her eyes again, he made sure she was truly looking at him before he spoke.
"Tell me what you want, Jen."
"You," she said simply, kissing him again, her fingers fumbling for the button on his jeans.
He moved his hand to the clasp on her bra, unhooking it carefully, and as he touched her, Jenny's body arched upward, seeking more of the warmth he provided. His touch was careful, arousing in a teasing way, making her desperate for more, and when his mouth took the place of his hands on her breast, she moaned quietly, her fingers tightening in his hair and on his shoulder. He moved slowly, grinding his hips into hers, feeling the fabric of his jeans becoming almost unbearably tight, and when she pushed them down his legs with her feet, he flinched at the sudden cold. Or perhaps it was in anticipation.
Her own jeans were slid down her slender legs as she watched him, waiting for his next move, and as he pulled the satin underwear down her body, her eyes closed for a fraction of a second. She gasped as he slid first one finger inside of her, then another, and as he moved, he gauged his success by the way her breathing became fast and shallow, freezing in her throat. He kissed the inside of her thighs, flicking his tongue over her warm center, smirking a bit at the soft cry that fell from her throat, and as he kept moving, she arched her body into his mouth, needing more.
When he stopped, she whimpered in protest but as soon as he'd entered her, all thoughts of demanding anything left her mind in an instant, and as he kissed her, she moaned into his mouth, the sound driving him insane.
"Birth control?" he asked.
She nodded, kissing him again, harder than before, and as he moved against her, he brushed her hair back from her face, needing to see her eyes.
"Let me know if I hurt you."
She laughed breathlessly, shaking her head before kissing him again, biting down on his bottom lip.
"Don't worry. You won't."
Pinning her hands above her head, he slammed his hips into hers, the low moan of his name quite possibly the most arousing thing he'd ever heard, and as he kissed her throat, biting down hard enough to leave a mark, she let a soft scream fall from her lips.
"Jen..." his voice was hoarse, low in her ear, making her shake, "God damn."
"Don't stop," she whispered, "Please."
He kissed her again, soothing the mark his teeth left with his tongue, and she moaned, long and low, her legs pulling him closer. Her muscles tightened, slow heat building within her entire body, and just as she knew she was nearing the edge, she broke free of his hold, framing his face with her hands.
"Kiss me."
He did as she asked, his tongue dancing over hers, and as she combined the intoxicating taste of his kiss with the shattering of her orgasm, she cried out wordlessly, her flawless vocabulary failing her, and her grip on his shoulder almost painfully tight. His rhythm was hard, fast, and faltering as his own release washed over him, and as he kissed her again, he growled her name in a harsh whisper. He'd fully expected some sarcastic comment as he stared down at her, but for once, she was silent, pulling him closer for a deep kiss.
Gibbs
Staring at Jenny as she lounged gracefully on his couch hours later, after they'd slept together once again, Gibbs found himself wondering how on earth he'd gotten here. When he'd first gotten this apartment, his plan had been to keep to himself, to shut everyone else out and just live his life in peace, missing his girls. Jennifer Shepard had thrown a wrench into that plan, finding the holes in his carefully crafted armor and working her way underneath it. She challenged him in all the best ways, made him want to live rather than survive, and if he were honest, he was actually beginning to feel happy again. Something that he'd never thought he would truly experience again in his life.
She made him smile, made him laugh in earnest, and he genuinely enjoyed her company. She had her own secrets, it was true, but she'd already entrusted him with one of them, and as she stood to walk into the kitchen, she smiled as she noticed him watching her.
"See something you like, marine?"
He looked her up and down, smirking as he turned to retrieve the bottle of bourbon from the counter behind him.
"I haven't decided."
"Oh, come now, Jethro. You don't seem the type to engage in casual sex. So you must like me at least a little."
She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, trailing her lips along the base of his throat, and when he turned, he pinned her between the counter and his body. He kissed her throat slowly, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke, making her shiver.
"Yeah, Jen. I like you. A lot."
Accepting the glass of bourbon he handed her, she gave him a smile as she took only the smallest drink, and he frowned as he watched her. Something was different about her tonight, and though their time spent lovemaking had somewhat dimmed the sadness in her eyes, it was still there.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
She sighed, placing the glass on the counter, twisting the necklace she wore in her fingers, her eyes locked on the floor.
"Today is the anniversary of Heather's death," she answered quietly.
Oh.
Oh, God...
Now he completely understood why she'd been so desperate to distract herself, and he nodded. He couldn't imagine what she was going through, having been the one to discover her sister's body. She didn't say anything more, and he moved closer, wrapping his arms around her as she stood in front of him, and he kissed her temple softly, brushing her hair back from her face.
"You can talk about it if it helps."
"No," she sighed, "I'd rather just forget for today. Can we let that be enough?"
He nodded again, and when she reached for his hand, she gave him a smile, kissing him slowly.
"You once mentioned you had a bed."
"I did."
"You also mentioned you never slept in it. Would you be willing to make an exception tonight?"
As he stared down at her, he knew there was no way in hell he could refuse her. Not when that almost-palpable sadness was still in her eyes.
"Anything for you, Jen."
Shepard
She woke in the earliest hours of the morning, still wrapped up in his arms and in a tangle of sheets, making her smile as she laid her head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. It had been so long since she'd honestly even wanted casual sex, let alone sex with someone she cared about, and as she focused on the rhythmic breaths he took, she knew she couldn't deny it anymore. She definitely cared about him. More than she thought she should, given the short amount of time she'd known him. It had only been six months since she'd first seen him outside in the parking lot, even less since the first tine she'd spoken to him, and she couldn't help but feel they were moving fast.
Not that she exactly minded, but more than anything, she wished she had someone who could give her some kind of advice, steer her in the right direction, and now that Heather was gone, her mother hospitalised, she had no one to turn to. Tony DiNozzo would be proud of her, she thought as she laid in the darkness, and that thought made her feel suddenly ashamed of what she'd done.
"Shannon..."
His voice was low, pained, and Jenny frowned, wondering who Shannon was, deciding on her own that he was dreaming of the wife he'd once told her about, and though she knew it was ridiculous, she couldn't help but feel a little put out by his past. They'd just had a night of amazing sex, more than twice, and yet he was still dreaming of his ex-wife? How insulting. Wondering if she should wake him or let him continue to dream, she argued with herself for over ten minutes, and when another pained whisper fell from his lips, she ultimately decided to reach out, shaking his arm lightly.
He grabbed her wrist with stunningly fast reflexes, and as his eyes met hers, he visibly relaxed, sitting up to turn on the light as she sat next to him.
"Jen?"
"You were having a nightmare," she explained, "Seemed like a pretty bad one."
He nodded, letting his gaze drop, and though she told herself she wouldn't, she looked at him seriously, reaching for his hand.
"Jethro? Who's Shannon?"
He flinched at the sound of her name, and shook his head, never once looking at her.
"No one."
Jenny frowned.
"So, you're just dreaming of no one the night we have sex for the first, second and third times? You really expect me to believe that? Au contraire, sir. I think not."
She paused, taking a deep breath, and moved closer, still holding his hand in hers.
"She's dead, isn't she?"
Several long moments passed before he nodded, and she ran her fingers slowly through his hair, her voice extremely gentle in the quiet.
"She was your wife, wasn't she?"
Another nod.
"I'm so sorry, Jethro."
She didn't ask him to elaborate, knowing it was an extremely painful subject, and as she leaned closer, kissing him gently, she never once released her hold on his hand.
"What do you need right now?"
His own words, repeated back to him, made him smile slightly, and as he reached for her, he figured he would parrot her own answer, wanting to see how she reacted.
"You."
Her kiss was all the answer he needed.
As she browsed through the refrigerator later that morning, Jenny smiled to herself as she glanced at the closed bedroom door. She'd decided that making breakfast was the next logical step in her day, and as she found a carton of eggs, cheese, and a bit of ham, she figured that an omelet would suffice. After checking all the expiration dates, she began carefully measuring out her ingredients, remembering the way Gibbs had watched her cook the first night they'd ever had dinner together.
Her methods of cooking had been leftover from her high school days, back when she'd been in a much darker place, and while she no longer counted every calorie, carbohydrate, or gram of fat, she was still meticulous in her measurements. It was only her highly sensitive hearing that kept him from being able to sneak up on her, and as he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek, she smiled again.
"Morning."
"Good morning," she answered with a smile, "again."
He laughed, and it was such a welcome sound that Jenny found herself wishing she could bottle it and keep it forever.
"How do you feel?" he asked, moving around her to start a pot of coffee.
"Strangely domestic," she replied, mixing her eggs as she glanced up at him.
"I can imagine. But that wasn't what I meant."
She nodded, pouring her eggs into the frying pan, gathering up the rest of her ingredients. She'd known exactly what he'd meant, choosing instead to dodge the question, and when she realised he was still waiting for her answer, she sighed.
"I'm fine. You?"
"Fine."
They both knew the other was lying, but neither one of them wanted to be the first to call each other out, and so they both accepted the lie with no protests. As she began adding the ham and cheese to her omelet, she offered to fix one for him, which he accepted with a smile, and when she'd finished plating both meals, she placed it on the counter in front of him, frowning at the questioning look in his eyes.
"What?"
"Why do you cook like that, Jen?"
She tilted her head slightly in confusion, and then suddenly his meaning clicked, and she nodded, taking the coffee he offered her with a nod.
"When I was in high school and for a few years after, I was really sick. I had a very unhealthy relationship with food, and my way of cooking is just something that got carried over from that."
He nodded.
"That why you always chew fourteen times before you swallow?"
She frowned, staring at him as though he'd lost his mind.
"You noticed that?"
"Yep."
Jenny nodded, cutting up the omelet on her plate carefully, not wanting to make a mess, and as she popped a piece into her mouth, she was suddenly very aware of him watching her.
"Anything else you've noticed that I'm not aware of?"
"You twist your hands in your lap when you're nervous," he replied promptly, earning himself a glare followed by a laugh.
"Do I?"
He nodded, waiting a few moments before speaking again, hoping to get her guard down enough that she would answer him.
"How sick were you?"
She was silent for a long moment, raising bright green eyes to his for a fraction of a second before she swallowed, reaching for her coffee slowly.
"I almost died," she admitted, "I was extremely depressed, and I just wanted the pain to stop. So I did anything I could to make my physical appearance reflect my emotional pain."
"Sounds like you and Heather were a lot alike."
She nodded.
"Yeah, except she gave up."
"Jenny, she—"
"No," Jenny interrupted, angry now, "She did, Jethro. She decided that it was too difficult, too hard, and instead of fighting, instead of waiting to see if it would get any better, she fucking gave up! She couldn't deal with it, and so she just fucking left me here, to deal with my own shit and she just piled more onto it."
Gibbs frowned as she slammed her fork down onto her plate, taking a long drink from her coffee, trying to steady herself. As someone who had very nearly ended his own life, he understood what Jenny's sister had been feeling, and he knew Jenny did as well, she was just too angry and upset to admit it right now.
"She's not in pain anymore though," he reminded her.
"No, she just gave that pain to me," Jenny spat, her words cold.
"You know that wasn't what she meant to do," he said, reaching for her hand across the table, "If she'd known that, she wouldn't have—"
"I know," she whispered, "That's just it. I've been where she was, and I've experienced it from the opposite side as well. I just...I miss her so much, Jethro."
He nodded, kissing her hand gently.
"I know. And that's okay. But eventually, you've got to let her go. She wouldn't want you to hold onto her memory like this. Remember her, yes, but don't dwell on her death."
Even as he said it, Leroy Jethro Gibbs felt like the world's greatest hypocrite.
Gibbs
After he'd dropped off his daily cup of coffee for Jenny, Gibbs wondered if she even realised that he'd never ordered it the same way once in all the time he'd been leaving one for her. Each time, he decreased the amount of cream and sugar, so slightly that he knew she would never notice, and now as he took a drink of his own, he smiled. Today's coffee had been entirely black, and he was certain that if she noticed it, he would definitely be hearing about it later.
Their relationship had slowly progressed from neighbours to friends, to lovers, and now he wasn't sure what he would label them as, not that it really mattered. All that mattered was the way she smiled at him after a long day, or the look in her eyes when she noticed him watching her cook each Tuesday night, the way she laid her head on his chest each night after they'd made love.
He was still in disbelief that she knew about Shannon, that she hadn't questioned him on it, and more importantly, that she hadn't run, and each day that passed made him feel more and more guilty for not telling her the entire truth. He wondered now if he'd made a mistake, and though he knew he would eventually have to come clean, he thought perhaps he'd be able to get away with keeping his secret for at least a little while longer. At least long enough for him to figure out the best way to tell her. After all, that wasn't the kind of thing you sprung on someone.
It never failed to amaze him that she still came to his apartment every night, whether it was to talk about their days or whether it was for a long night of passionate sex, both of which he thoroughly enjoyed. Jenny was the best, most unexpected thing to come out of his decision to move into the apartment complex, and he couldn't deny that she made each and every day better.
So it was no surprise that, on the one day she hadn't come by his place, that it fell to him to make her day better, though he couldn't have ever imagined what it was that had pissed her off so badly. She'd arrived home from work at a normal time (odd in and of itself), and when he heard the slamming of her door, he jumped because it was simply so loud in the silence of the evening.
"You got to be fucking kidding me!" she swore, slamming something down on the table.
He assumed it was her gun that she'd so forcefully thrown down, and as he listened to her yell, slam various items down, and swear over and over, he shook his head, laughing quietly. She certainly had one hell of a temper when she took the notion. It wasn't until he heard the unmistakable sound of her crying through the wall that he took it upon himself to walk over to her place, and when she opened her door, he frowned at her red eyes.
"What's wrong, Jenny?"
She shrugged, allowing him in, and as he followed her into the kitchen, his eyes widened at the destruction of the small area. Broken plastic cups littered the surface of her kitchen table and counter top, and s he surveyed the damage, he glanced at her warily.
"Want to tell me about it?"
"They made me take time off. Do they not understand how much of my life I've given to this god damned agency?"
She slammed her hand down on the table, her eyes bright with rage.
"I was the one who caught the bastard. He tried to kill my team, and I fucking stopped him. I did that. Not DiNozzo, not McGee, me!"
Again, her hands hit the table, though she seemed oblivious to the blood that was now dripping down them, and Gibbs made his way closer, reaching for her arm slowly.
"Jen, calm down. You're—"
"Don't tell me to fucking calm down, Jethro! This isn't fair! They've never forced McGee or DiNozzo to take their vacation time, and I know for a fact that McGee saves his, too."
She kept slamming her hands on the table, and when he reached for them, she jerked away, her eyes livid.
"Don't! Don't touch—"
"You're bleeding, Jen," he said gently, "and if you want to hit something to take out your frustration, hit me."
Her eyes were wide as she looked at him, shaking her head slowly.
"What are you talking about? I would never—"
"I know. But you're bleeding. At least let me help you get cleaned up. You don't have to tell me what happened, but don't take it out on yourself."
She nodded silently, allowing him to clean the blood from her hands with a towel she'd left sitting near her stove, and as he finished less than five minutes later, he kissed her hands gently, giving her a smile.
"Better?"
"Somewhat."
"Tell me what happened."
He looked at her, his eyes staring into hers for so long that she knew there was no way she could resist him, and finally, she nodded.
"It's this damn case. I can't...we had a suspect that tried to kill us using biological warfare, and DiNozzo was exposed. He almost died, and...I know that I give him hell all the time, but...I really do care about my team. The fact that someone did this on my turf, singled out my people...that doesn't sit well with me."
He nodded, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
"That why you've been working so late?"
"I had to," she said seriously, "I couldn't stop until I'd figured it out. Abby and I finally pinpointed the source, told the doctors exactly what they were dealing with, and when we found the person responsible I...may or may not have threatened to push them down an elevator shaft. Right in front of Director Morrow."
"Jesus, Jen," he said quietly, fighting back laughter.
"I didn't actually do it," she said emphatically, "but I think the threat was enough for Morrow to tell me that I needed to take time off. He made me take three days to "get myself together and relax". Whatever that means."
She reached for his waist, pulling him closer, and as she kissed him, she ran her fingers lightly through his hair.
"Do you think you could manage to help me relax, Jethro?" she whispered.
He nodded.
"Shouldn't be a problem."
"I knew it wouldn't be."
Shepard
Two hours had passed, during which she'd cleaned her entire apartment, showered, and even done a load of laundry, and Jenny Shepard was bored out of her mind. She'd tried reading, but soon found she couldn't focus, and so she was now pulling on her shoes, making her way to the door. Picking up two cups of black coffee, she climbed into her car, careful as she backed out of her space, and when she reached her destination twenty minutes later, she fought to keep her hands from shaking.
She had no idea of why she was so nervous, it wasn't as though she were seeing him for the first time, and as she pulled open the door, she flashed him a warm smile.
"Good morning, Jethro."
He stared at her as though he'd never seen her before, frowning when she handed him a cup of coffee.
"Morning. What are you—"
"I was bored sitting at home, and since you've seen me at my home away from home, I figured it was only fair that I should visit you in yours. I even came prepared with hot bean water."
He laughed, taking a drink of the rich liquid, and as he smiled, she sat down in the chair across from him, crossing her legs gracefully. She was thankfully the only one in the office at present, and as she twisted her hair lazily around one finger, she took a drink from the cup in her hand.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice?"
He frowned.
"What?"
"The coffee," she clarified, "You've been cutting back on the cream and sugar each day, thinking I wouldn't notice."
He smirked, pointedly taking a drink of his own, and as he swallowed it, she shook her head, rolling her eyes jokingly.
"So, this is what you do all day? You sir, have my deepest sympathies. I would have succumbed to boredom long ago. For that, you also have my admiration."
"Only for that?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.
Jenny shrugged, taking another drink from her coffee, raising her own eyebrow in answer. As the door opened behind her, she turned, flashing the young man in the doorway a smile, and as she stood from her chair, she gave Gibbs a quick kiss on the cheek, nodding at the door.
"You've got a customer, marine. I'll see you later."
His quiet laughter followed her all the way to her car.
For you, my heart, ripped from my chest. Eviscerated, I am. I would plunge my fingers into my flesh, ripping organs from my body to give to you, pulpy masses of morbid curiosity, in addition to my heart. I offer these rare gifts to you, knowing they cannot survive for more than a few hours. I will try to be as quick as I can, and if I fail, that is on me. On my heart, that I willingly lay to rest at your feet.
As the words flowed from her pen, Jenny stared at the paper in front of her, trying to make sense of what she'd just written. She'd never considered herself much of a writer, though she'd been known to keep various journals throughout the years as a way of working through her own thoughts, and now, being more confused than ever, seemed to be as good a time as any.
What was going on with her? Why was she so anxious to see her neighbour each night, falling into his bed with startling ease, opening up to him about her day? Bringing him coffee at work? Was it possible that her feeling were growing stronger? That her general attraction was developing into something more over the course of the last six months? Surely not. Jenny Shepard wasn't the type to fall in love with someone so easily. She prided herself on needing nothing and no one, and she wasn't about to change that for anyone. Least of all a certain blue-eyed marine whose smile could light up any room he was in, whose trademark stoicism made her smile, and whose kiss made her head spin more than any alcohol in the world.
Wait. No. Stop it, Jenny. Didn't you learn your lesson? Getting close to someone only means your chances of getting hurt are much higher. You've already been through enough pain to last a lifetime. Don't borrow trouble. That's the last thing you need.
As she tried to sort through the conflicting thoughts in her head, Jenny reached for the cup of tea in front of her, trying not to think about the last time she'd drank hot tea. Thinking of her mother now would only make her feel worse, and she shook her head, blinking hard.
"Come on, Jenny," she whispered, "Get it together."
The knock on her door caused her to jump, and as she stood to answer it, she shook her head again.
"Hey, Shep...I know it's supposed to be one of your days off, but we could really use you on this one. You mind?"
"Not at all. Let's go."
Thank God...a distraction.
Gibbs
Less than twenty minutes before his work day was scheduled to end, Gibbs' phone chimed, signaling a text, and since he was at work and no one else had his number, he smiled, knowing exactly who it was from. Sure enough, Jenny's name flashed on the screen, and as he opened the message, he wondered just why it was that he was so anxious to hear from her. After all, he'd seen her last night, she'd shown up to his job the day before, and so his excitement made little sense to him.
Might be a little late tonight. Arguing with doctors.
He frowned, texting her back, and as he waited for a response, he grabbed his jacket slowly.
Everything okay?
Took a round to the thigh. I'll be fine.
His pulse began to quicken as he read her words, and when he walked to the door, he noticed his hands were shaking, though he didn't have the slightest clue of why. It wasn't as though she were a stranger to bullets, and he trusted her assessment of the situation to be accurate, even if she would have rather died than admit to being in pain. As he drove home, he realised that he'd thought of nothing else that day, and he wondered if perhaps he was becoming too attached to her too quickly.
It had only been six months that he'd known her, surely he wasn't developing deep feelings for her in such a short time. Was he? No. He couldn't be. She wasn't Shannon, and though he didn't necessarily need or expect her to be, the idea of loving anyone else was enough to make his stomach turn. Though Jenny herself often had that effect on him, making him feel as though he needed to do everything in his power to make her happy, to see her smile, to hear her laugh. It was...he couldn't think of the correct word, and for a moment, he fleetingly wished for Jenny to be next to him. He knew she would have no trouble in finding the proper word.
He pulled into the lot of his apartment, confused when he noticed Jenny's sleek little car already in the lot, and when a smaller black vehicle approached, he heard his name being called from behind. Turning, he saw the very object of his thoughts sitting in the passenger seat next to Anthony DiNozzo, and as she climbed slowly out of the car, she gave him a pained smile. It wasn't until he saw her in front of him that Gibbs truly knew just how worried he'd been, and when his eyes landed on the bandage wrapped around her upper thigh, she rolled her eyes.
"It was a probie mistake. I didn't check the god damned corners. I'm lucky he didn't have his gun aimed at my head."
Though he knew she was irritated, mostly at herself, her voice was such a welcome sound that he didn't give a damn what she said just so long as she kept talking. She begrudgingly allowed him to help her up the walk path, her arm wrapped around his neck, and just before the lobby doors closed behind him, Gibbs heard DiNozzo's voice in the darkness.
"Sorry for disturbing your three days off, Shep."
Without even glancing back, Jenny flipped him off, causing Gibbs to shake his head, and when they finally reached their apartments less than ten minutes later, she looked at him slowly.
"Thanks."
"Anytime. So...you want me to check the corners this time?"
She glared at him, slapping his arm lightly.
"Shut the hell up, Jethro."
All in all, it was worth it.
Though he could tell it was beginning to grate on her nerves, Gibbs insisted on cooking that night, opting for something simple, and as he brought it to her while she sat on the couch, she glared at him.
"I'm perfectly capable of carrying my own plate."
He nodded.
"Never said you weren't."
Before he could stop her, Jenny had pulled herself up from where she sat, making her way into the kitchen, pouring a glass of bourbon for them both, and as she slowly walked back into the living room, Gibbs shook his head.
"You're not gonna make this easy, are you?"
"When did you ever really expect me to, Leroy Jethro?"
Rolling his eyes, he took the glass she handed him, eyeing the bandage on her leg warily. Small droplets of blood had seeped through the dressing, and he frowned, sure they hadn't been there when he'd first seen her that day. She took a small drink from her glass, tilting her head curiously at the look on his face, and when she inquired about it, he merely shook his head.
They ate in comfortable silence, Gibbs sneaking glances at her eyes every so often to check for any sign of pain, and when he offered to take her nearly-full plate twenty minutes later, she smiled at him weakly.
"I guess I'm just not that hungry."
She stood to take the plate herself, and when her steps faltered, he took it from her gently, looking at her sternly.
"Let me help you."
Sensing he wasn't going to back down, she finally nodded, and as she leaned against the counter in the kitchen, he frowned at how pale her skin had become. Glancing down, he saw that the blood had spread, staining the white bandage crimson, and when he said her name, she didn't answer.
"Jen, you're bleeding."
She merely blinked up at him, her eyes glazed and unfocused, and he placed his hands on her waist, lifting her up onto the counter top. He quickly undid the button on her jeans, sliding them carefully down her legs, and as he examined the wound, he frowned, noting that some of the stitching had come undone.
"We should get you to a hospital."
Jenny shook her head, her eyes hard.
"No. Get a needle and thread. I'll fix it myself."
He rolled his eyes.
"I'll do it. Wouldn't be the first time."
He disappeared into his bathroom, returning with the aforementioned supplies, and as he carefully threaded the needle, he looked at her seriously.
"You'll need to have this looked at by a professional in the morning. This is just a temporary fix."
She nodded, reaching for the bottle of bourbon as he began stitching the wound. She flinched every so often at the pain but said nothing, her eyes following his steady hands as he worked, and when he had finished ten minutes later, he gave her a smile.
"Finished. Anything else I can help you with today, Agent Shepard?"
She smiled.
"I do believe you've done enough, Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs. Unless you wanted to provide me with extra special care."
He moved closer, careful not to touch the bandage he'd wrapped around her leg, and as he kissed her slowly, his hands found her waist, pulling her to him. His tongue parted her lips gently as her arms wrapped around his neck, and he lifted her carefully, carrying her into the bedroom, placing her on the bed, never once breaking their kiss. Her hands pulled him closer, reaching for the hem of his shirt, and as she tried to pull it over his head, he stopped her, his eyes serious.
"We can't, Jen. I don't want to hurt you."
She sighed, shaking her head.
"Will you at least kiss me?"
He smiled, leaning down to bring his lips to hers, running his hand through her hair slowly.
"Now that, I'll do."
A/N: And now Jenny knows one of the two major secrets in Gibbs' life. When will she learn about Kelly? And how will she react? Hmm...
Playlist for this story (thus far):
1. Under The Pink-album by Tori Amos
