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Tony eyed the as yet unwatched tapes from the stakeout sitting in a pile on his desk. He didn’t want to see any more.
He ejected the first tape carefully from the player as though being gentle with it might stop it from blowing up in his face. He stacked it on top of the other two before lacing his fingers together and resting his lips against them in thought.
After the last one McGee had fled to the safety of his own desk, wanting nothing more to do with any of this, and Ziva kept shooting him furtive glances from over at hers.
It was looking increasingly like the boss and the boss’s boss had done the deed - possibly multiple times - and that they had it on tape.
But what he hadn’t told the others was what had really clinched it for him. It wasn’t that something during that first time things had taken a turn for the not pretend sometime near the end there, more the tenderness Gibbs had touched her with after, and that kiss, and he couldn’t be sure, but had she been crying?
No, if it was just a performance, surely they’d have gone for a sexy, unambiguous embrace there after the big finish, and what a finish it was, but instead they had what looked like real emotions all captured in the glorious technicolour of thermal imaging. They'd then gone ahead and from all appearances slept in each other's arms.
Acting my ass.
And on the tapes he hadn’t watched was a whole day and a half’s worth of material that had happened after that, and McGee had said they'd gone at it a heap of times after that. Tony was glad he hadn't been the one watching in MTAC.
It’d been obvious since the Director got here that those two had history, but this exceeded expectations by so much that they hadn’t even bet on it.
Tony cast a carefully casual glance over at their new Israeli friend. “So,” he said, causing Ziva to look up, “What do we think is on these other tapes?”
She lifted her dark brown eyes to meet his, clearly amused at his attempt to appear cool, calm and collected on the topic at hand. “Undoubtedly more evidence of Gibbs and Jenny having sex.”
Tony grimaced. Ziva apparently didn't beat about the bush ever, at all, not even a little. It was funny, sure, but not useful when you were avoiding the truth.
“You worked with her, right?”
“Yes.” Ziva said, narrowing her eyes and regarding tony with suspicion.
“Did she ever say anything about whether she and Gibbs, y’know...”
Ziva shrugged. “She may have mentioned a few things here and there.”
“And? Did they ever, you know...”
“I am not going to tell you that,” Ziva said, looking at him like he was crazy.
“They did, didn’t they. They were in Europe together; I bet that’s when it happened!”
Ziva froze and visibly tensed before proceeding to make herself look busy.
Tony winced as he realised what was coming, possibly including a slap up the back of the head.
“Who was, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked expectantly as he appeared silently behind the younger agent, daring him to complete his thought out loud.
“The married assassins, boss, y’know with them speaking French and all; bet they loved Paris.”
Gibbs’s face remained stonily impassive, unsure whether the mention of Paris was a jab at him or just DiNozzo trying to dig himself out of a hole, but it didn’t matter because the response stayed the same. In spite of himself DiNozzo had good instincts, and he was so very close to the bone, and the last thing he needed to catch a whiff of was blood in the water, and it was made worse by the fact that he still didn’t know what he was going to do in regards to Jen.
“Go home,” he said, briefly glancing at each member of his team.
The case was closed, injuries had been tended to and the dirtbags were behind bars. He’d suffered a bloody nose, and Jen had a bruised fist from punching their captor in the face around after taking offence at something he said.
Gibbs smirked. It had been just like old times, and he’d loved every minute of it.
One by one they grabbed their personal effects and headed for the elevator, and the sound of Tony and Ziva bickering could be heard as the doors closed. He’d have to watch out for those two: they'd only just met, but their dance was eerily familiar.
He couldn’t even wheel out rule 12, not when the reason for that rule was sitting upstairs in her office and they’d all but shattered it again.
He needed to talk to her.
He made his way over to the stairs and jogged up to the mezzanine above, now free of his team’s observant gaze.
Her arrival weeks before had temporarily blindsided him, and even more so that she was suddenly director. For the briefest moment he’d been genuinely hoping for some “off the job”, wishing that they could just pick up where they left off, but she’d squashed that in minutes and he’d respected her wishes.
Oh well, they’d blown that one.
The first time in that hotel room they’d lost control; the second, third and fourth times they hadn’t bothered pretending they’d ever had any.
He strolled into her office space, taking a moment to enjoy the fact that Jenny’s assistant had gone home for the night before wrenching open the final door.
Jenny didn’t flinch or look remotely surprised to see him, instead lifting her head to gaze at him intently over a pair of reading glasses.
“What is it, Jethro?” she asked, taking them off and placing them on her desk, knowing better than to wait for him to speak first.
He sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk and put his feet up on it, which drew an arched eyebrow from her.
“Just wondering what we’re going to do now,” Gibbs said, half shrugging his shoulders as if it wasn’t a question and her response couldn’t make or break them once more
“Well,” Jenny said, clearing her throat softly, “We should probably forget it ever happened, but that’s not going to work, is it.”
“Nope. Didn’t work last time either.” Unbidden flashes of their time in the hotel room played across his mind; the curve of her breast, the warmth and smell of her neck. He stared into her eyes. “I want you, Jen,” he said with a quiet intensity, trying to bore it into her soul.
A myriad of conflicting emotions crossed Jenny’s face in a fleeting moment. “You’d actually take me back?” she asked, sounding almost incredulous. Part of her hoped, especially after what they’d just done, but she didn’t believe it would actually happen.
“Well that depends on why you left,” Gibbs said, twiddling his thumbs as he held her gaze.
“You didn’t give me a reason to stay,” she said, studying him carefully.
Gibbs looked at her expectantly because there had to be more, but Jenny said nothing. He’d expected some sort of hot air about her career, but she’d just hit him with an angle that he hadn’t bothered considering, maybe ‘cause blame was easier when it was pointed at someone else.
Jenny sighed at his lack of response. “Do you remember when I told you I loved you? You mocked me.”
“Didn’t mean I wanted you to leave.” Gibbs said, scoffing at her. He was unwilling to believe that in one tiny moment in time the blame for her departure might be laid on him, but the discomfort settling on him was telling him it might be true.
“No, but it was hardly confidence inspiring.”
He had no comeback that, and instead loaded another arrow into his bow, choosing now the thing that had bothered him the most, and let it loose at her, flinging blame back in her direction. “Why’d you leave a note, why didn’t you talk to me?”
Jenny sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, more than a little afraid that they were about to blow this all to hell. “Because I wouldn’t have been able to go, and that point the job offer looked a whole lot more reliable than you did.”
“So you’re telling me our relationship doesn’t mean anything unless I say it?”
“I’d never been in love with anybody before that; add to that that anyone I’d ever loved had either left or died and I needed to hear it, so this time I left first!”
“And you couldn’t have told me that?” Gibbs demanded, his voice rising.
“No, Jethro, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to leave, but I couldn’t risk staying and still ending up with nothing.”
“Was it worth it?” He asked, his voice quieter now as he sought her eyes once more.
“Well obviously my career worked out, but if you’re asking whether I regret leaving, the answer’s yes.” Jenny said, looking away in what was an attempt to gather herself. “Do you think you’d have ever said it?”
“Said what?”
“You know what I'm talking about!”
“Don’t know; felt it.”
“And what about now?”
Gibbs met her eyes in what was clear an answer as any. “Do you wanna try again or not?”
“It will completely undermine my credibility as Director, but I can live with that. I want to live with that.”
Gibbs took his feet off her desk and stood up, before walking around to her side of the desk. He offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet.
Jenny smiled him a sparkling smile, relishing the fact that they were doing this all again.
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder?” Gibbs asked, smirking at her.
“I don’t know, it was pretty fond to begin with.”
Gibbs snagged his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, and Jenny’s eyes fluttered shut as he tenderly kissed her forehead. Their entire affair had been filled with affection, and no one had touched her this way since; the drought only being broken by this ridiculous undercover assignment.
“What are you doing tonight?”
Jenny smiled indulgently and looked up at him, batting her lashes. “You’re hoping I’ll say ‘you’, aren’t you.”
Gibbs smirked, lifting his spare hand to graze her cheek. “I missed you, Jen.”
“I missed you too,” she murmured, and rested her hand against his chest and she parted her lips in anticipation of what was to come.
Gibbs lowered his mouth to hers, taking a moment to revel in the sweetness of it.
Jenny fell against him and they stumbled, breaking the kiss. She laughed in what was as close to a giggle as he’d ever heard from her.
Gibbs smiled, “What was that?”
“I’m a little giddy.”
Gibbs tightened his grip on her waist, bringing her even closer. He hadn’t even tried to make her giddy yet.
Their mouths met again, only this time they were open before they’d even touched; tongue met tongue as they duelled until they ran out of air.
Jenny’s chest heaved, and she ran an immaculately manicured hand down Gibbs’s face as they caught their breath.
“My place or yours?”
The elevator dinged, and the team looked up just in time to see Gibbs, fully decked out in Marine Corps dress blues, stride past their desks and head upstairs.
“First he leaves early and now this,” Tony muttered to no one in particular.
“It’s the Marine Corps Birthday today,” McGee volunteered, but Tony hadn’t finished,
“And did anyone else notice how he and the director just seem...closer...somehow.”
“They do seem kinda close since that last assignment,” McGee said in agreement.
Ziva laughed at them. “I do believe they are - what’s that term? - ‘back on’.”
“Ha, I knew it! Back on means this isn’t the first time they--”
“Careful, Agent DiNozzo.” Jenny cautioned, her voice drifting down from the stairway.
“Whoa.” Tony said as he turned to see Gibbs coming back down the stairs, this time with the Director on his arm. Tony said no more, he was too busy ogling Jenny’s dress, which was a long, velvety, green number that was clinging to some impressive curves in all the right places. His thoughts were interrupted by a sound whack to the head.
“You look great, boss, uh, you too, Director.”
Jenny smirked at him and Gibbs rolled his eyes. “Behave, DiNozzo,” Gibbs growled as he led Jenny towards the elevator.
“Lucky Gibbs,” Tony mused in a half state of wonder.
“Perhaps now you will stop drooling over her, yes?” Ziva shot back.
“I do not drool…”
FIN