TITLE: New Memories Of Paris
AUTHOR:
marciafanCHARACTERS: Jenny Shepard, Trent Kort, Jethro Gibbs. Jenny/Kort romance with major hints of Jibbs
GENRE: Angst, Romance, AU
PROMPT: #14 "The fact that you know where to find me on a Sunday morning is a little scary, Gibbs. Please." @
madame_directorRATING: T
WORD COUNT: 3,130
SUMMARY: “Does this count as foreplay now?” She asked, conveying convincing amusement in her voice. Wondering herself if it really was an act or she was actually enjoying this conversation.
WARNINGS: Episode tag for 4.23 "Trojan Horse". Quite AU, I'm afraid.
NOTES: Thanks to
nicis_anatomy for the moral support on this! If it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't have posted it. Like, ever lol. Hope you all fellow Jibbs fans won't lynch me, remember it is illegal still! And as always, feedback (both positive and negative, as long as it's constructive) is very appreciated. Also, English still isn't my mother language and this wasn't beta'd; so bear with me and my mistakes, please.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, nor am I making money out of this. If I were, I'd be rich by now.
The cool breeze of the Parisian early morning caressed her face gently as Jenny Shepard took a break from her run, sitting on a bench at the side of the road. She turned to take in her surroundings and her eyes stopped on the river in front of her.
The waters of the Seine ran slow and calm as Paris and its inhabitants awakened on a spectacular Sunday morning.
Leaning against the bench, Jenny tilted her head back and glanced quickly at the sky, beams of sweat glistening on her throat, slowly tracing a pattern downwards to disappear underneath the white tank top she was wearing. As a ray of sun settled upon her face, she closed her eyes, letting the breeze cool off her flushed cheeks, and pulling the hair band out of her flaming short red hair.
She let her fingers linger at the ends of her hair for a second longer than necessary, revelling deep inside in the length of it. She didn’t mind the pixie cut, but it sure felt good to slowly get her hair back.
Plus, she knew Jethro liked it. He’d always loved her hair, especially when it was longer. He would run his fingers through the red curls for hours when he got the chance.
A smile graced her lips at the thought of Jethro; albeit a sad smile. The city sparked so many memories of their times together, but even more memories of the last moments with him, when she oh-so-selfishly had gone and broken his heart.
Taking a deep breath, Jenny shook the thoughts out of her head. She intended to enjoy her time in Paris as much as she could, and this wasn’t the time to dwell on sad memories. If anything, she should be thinking about all the good times she and Jethro had together in that very same place. The city spoke to her in ways she had long forgotten, and the knowledge brought a smile to her lips.
A smile that faded as a sudden awkward feeling settled in her stomach. When a tall shadow blocked her sun, she didn’t need to open her eyes to know who was standing in front of her. The scent of his cologne permeated the air around him and filled her nostrils violently; a heady smell that made her feel glad her eyes were still closed.
“The fact that you know where to find me on a Sunday morning is a little scary, Mr. Kort.” Jenny said quietly, opening her eyes slowly to look up at the man. When he opened his mouth to reply, she just raised her hand and smirked, “Please. And we’re not even in DC.”
“Lucky guess.”
His tone was teasing, but Jenny decided not to act on it. Lucky guess her ass. No CIA agent needed a lucky guess to track someone down. Kort had just pulled on the right strings, and she knew it. And she was sure he knew that she knew it.
With the ghost of a smirk still on her lips, Jenny got up from the bench and beckoned Kort to follow her. “Thought you were leaving last night with your boss.” She said casually, gritting her teeth slightly at her own mention of La Grenouille.
“He decided to stay longer in Paris.” Kort answered shortly. Of course he wasn’t about to reveal the whereabouts of his subject. Not if that could compromise his cover.
But, Jenny thought, wouldn’t his cover be compromised anyway if he were to be seen with the Director of a federal agency?
“No Hector today?”
The question was asked before she could voice her own thoughts, and much to her dismay she felt a shiver run down her spine as his deeply accented drawl echoed way too close to her ear. The soft caress of his warm breath on her cheek reminded her of their last encounter in her car, how he whispered the information in her ear and then brushed his lips against her cheek in a short, yet lingering kiss. It was supposed to be a way to reveal information discreetly and make it look like a friendly meeting to her protection detail, but the gentle touch of his lips, the feel of his rough stubble brushing her skin…it all just managed to play havoc with her senses. Leaving her breathless, with her eyes flaring and her cheeks flushing. And not only because of the information she had gotten from him.
Glancing at him sideways, Jenny just shook her head shortly, providing no further answers.
“So you sneaked out and ditched your detail. So smart.” Kort was still playing with her and she knew it, but his tone annoyed her all the same.
“Believe me; I can take care of myself, Mr. Kort.” She turned her eyes on him, and he was suddenly taken aback by the fire he saw in them.
He had underestimated Jennifer Shepard, of that much he was sure. The chauvinist, sexist part of him had led him to believe that she was just the ordinary female agent who slept her way to the top and managed to stand there as long as she stood silent and pretty. Only now did he realize she was so much more than that.
Seeing her without the fancy shoes, without the fancy car or the security detail following her everywhere, he got to see what he thought was the real Jenny, and much to his surprise, Trent Kort found out he liked what he saw.
“I’m sure you do.”
His answer faded into silence that wasn’t quite awkward nor comfortable. It stretched between them, broken only by Jenny’s harsh intake of breath once she picked up her pace and started to run again, slow enough to let Kort keep up with her without actually having to break into a run himself.
She wouldn’t want to ruin his elegant attire, after all.
“Is there a reason why you’re here, Mr. Kort?” She asked after she felt the silence had been long enough. She didn’t turn to look at him, keeping up her slow pace, but she could feel his eyes on her, scanning her body in a way that suddenly made her feel exposed.
The answer didn’t come immediately, while Kort seemed to take great interest in examining the way drops of sweat were trickling down the side of Jenny’s neck, and suddenly his fingers were itching to probe the softness of her skin.
Her head turned to him and the intensity of her eyes on his was enough to break his fantasy and force him to come up with an answer. There was information he wanted to share, that’s why he was there. Not because the scent of her sweet, spicy perfume had been with him the whole night, on his clothes and in his dreams. Not because he desperately wanted to kiss the neck his lips had been so close to just the night before. No, just to share his information.
“I’ve got a few things to tell you, if you’re interested in what the CIA has to offer on La Grenouille, Director.” He saw her step falter for a fleeting second and smiled inwardly. Watching her reaction was part of why he was here this morning. To see her eyes flare, her jaw clench and her cheeks flush. To observe the raw fury on her face and to feel it radiate from her.
“Thought all that information was need to know.” She was obviously restraining herself from asking right away what he got to say, and Kort couldn’t help but smirk.
“And now you need to know, Jenny.”
When the transition from Director Shepard to Jenny had happened, she didn’t know, but she honestly didn’t care as long as she got the information she needed. Getting in the good graces of a deep undercover CIA agent involved with her subject suddenly didn’t sound so bad anymore.
“Does this count as foreplay now?” She asked, conveying convincing amusement in her voice. Wondering herself if it really was an act or she was actually enjoying this conversation.
A wider smirk appeared on Kort’s face, but he didn’t reply to the teasing question. She had turned his own words against him, and he knew her question didn’t really need an answer.
“We should go somewhere where we can have a private talk.” He suggested instead, and she had to admit he was right. They couldn’t simply keep on walking along the Seine and share classified information on the sidewalk. “Do you want to let your protection detail know where you are, Jenny?”
“I’d rather not.” Her answer came fast and sharp; their conversation was private and secret, nobody else should know they had met at all, let alone shared information. Wherever he would take her was okay with her, as long as they were alone.
Kort gave her a sharp nod and Jenny followed him as he hailed a cab and opened the door for her, letting her get into the car before getting in himself. Quietly giving an address to the taxi driver.
---
The elegant, deserted hallway of the Ritz hotel was dimly lit and quiet as Trent Kort unlocked the door to his room and let Jenny walk in first. She stood in the dark for a very short while before Kort turned on the lights to reveal the sitting room of a large, finely decorated suite.
“Take me to your hotel room. How charmant.” Jenny commented lightly, a smirk playing around her lips.
“I thought it would be better than discussing our information down the streets of Paris.”
His low, accented voice extremely close to her ear made her jump slightly, and suddenly she felt his warm hands on her shoulders, tugging at the big coat she was wearing. The coat he had oh-so-gallantly offered her, to cover her exercising attire, as they had stepped out of the cab in front of the hotel.
She shrugged off the coat and let him help her before she turned around to face him, “Information, yes. What do you have for me?”
“Still no foreplay. Still so American.” Kort smirked at the impatience in her voice and took in her tense body language, slowly easing away from her to walk over to the phone. “I assume you haven’t had any breakfast…”
Jenny’s lips curved into a teasing smile and she lifted an eyebrow questioningly, “Breakfast? Mr. Kort, please…my kind of foreplay doesn’t usually involve food.”
The look he gave her told her he had caught the provocation in her words. But he restrained himself from shooting a reply back to her and decided to pick up the phone instead, quickly ordering breakfast for both of them.
“I like to discuss important subjects in front of a meal…” He explained, once he put the phone back in its cradle. “And you should try involving food in foreplay. It can be quite interesting.” A sly smirk spread across Kort’s face and Jenny gave him an equally sly smile, quirking an eyebrow.
“You know what else can be interesting in foreplay, Mr. Kort?” She paused, locking her eyes with his, “Handcuffs. Ever try?”
“Are you expressing the urge to arrest me? Or perhaps you just want us to get…closer, Director?”
She ignored the mocking tone he reserved to her title and tilted her head to the side, leaning casually against the wall, “Who knows.”
Her words died into silence as Kort seemed not to be able to come up with an appropriate smart reply this time, and Jenny let herself be slightly pleased to know that the mere thought of them together was enough to leave him speechless.
“So…what do you have for me?” Her voice turned serious as she gave him a stern look, crossing her arms over her chest.
Kort seemed to hesitate slightly before he started to talk, “La Grenouille is expecting a big load in a few days. He’s already made a deal with some Iraqi man, the weapons will be sent to rebels in Iraq.” He paused, seeing Jenny’s narrowed eyes and expecting a question from her.
“And why would NCIS take care of this? That’s something for the FBI; the NCIS involvement in this would be suspect to say the least.” It cost her to admit that, because that deal was a damn good reason to throw La Grenouille in Gitmo for the rest of his life. But the unrequested involvement of her agency would arise way too many questions.
“The Iraqi is a Marine. Probably a terrorist living in your own country.”
Kort’s answer snapped her out of her thoughts and Jenny took a moment to process the new information. If the Iraqi man was a Marine betraying the country he promised to serve, then they definitely could bring him in. And once they had him, La Grenouille’s name would come right out in a matter of hours.
A small smirk graced Jenny’s face at the thought of having Ziva interrogating the man like she would with a Mossad suspect, but her eyes were serious and wary when she looked back at Kort again, “Why are you telling me this?”
“I thought you would appreciate the help.” He shrugged his shoulders and she narrowed her eyes again.
“And why would you want to help me?”
Kort’s face darkened, but he didn’t answer right away, getting up to walk over to her instead, “We’re on the same side here, Jenny…” He said slowly, stepping dangerously closer to her. Invading her personal space. “We want the same things…”
The smell of his aftershave invaded her senses and Jenny couldn’t stop her eyes from fluttering shut for a second as Kort’s fingers brushed her cheek gently. Still, she tried to take a step back when he got too close to her, only to find the cream-colored wall pressed against her back.
“You don’t know what I want…” She managed to say, desperately trying to ignore the way his fingers running along her jaw-line and his warm breath on her neck were playing havoc with her senses.
“Oh, I think I do, Jenny…”
His hands ran down her body, stopping at her hips to keep her in place, and he nuzzled her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses on her throat.
And that’s when she lost it.
In one swift movement she pulled his face up to hers and pressed her lips hard on his, kissing him roughly.
His hands moved down to her thighs and he pressed her up against the wall, kissing her back even harder. So hard that for a fleeting moment he wondered if it was possible to bruise her beautiful lips by merely kissing them.
A low moan escaped her throat and Kort growled against her skin as he dragged his lips down her chin and neck, to her exposed collarbone.
“When this operation is over, I’m taking you out to dinner.”
His ragged whisper caressed her skin and Jenny shivered in pleasure, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and rolled her head back, biting her lip to hold back her moans as Kort’s lips covered every inch of white, soft skin.
“Until then, none of this leaves this room.” She mumbled, tugging on his tie to loosen it, and she saw him nod sharply as she brought his head back up to hers for another passionate kiss. Her lips had just parted to his silent request when a soft knock on the door had them breaking apart quickly.
Kort let her down and placed a lingering kiss on the side of her neck, whispering in her ear to be quiet as he walked to the door.
Hearing him quickly speak with the room service waiter, Jenny walked over to the couch and curled up on it, taking a deep breath. If she allowed reality to catch up with her, she had to realize this was a spectacularly bad idea. But it was so good to feel desired again, to feel the fire and actually have someone who could satisfy her needs for once.
The noise of the door being closed and a cart being wheeled into the room snapped her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see Kort standing in the doorframe, his tie loose and the first buttons of his shirt undone. A blush crept up her face as she realized she was responsible for that, and she looked up at him, biting her lip, “Breakfast?”
“Can wait.” A smirk appeared on Kort’s face as he approached her, and she straightened herself to meet him as he sat down next to her. The hungry look on his face mirroring her look perfectly.
“So, where were we?”
His hands sneaked underneath her tank top and Jenny’s breath hitched instinctively, her mind filling up with memories of a different time, a different man, a different touch.
Her body responded to his actions in a way that she wasn’t quite expecting, like it had only ever happened with her ex-lover. And for a second all she could think about was Jethro. How good his touch had felt on those endless nights of lovemaking, how she had missed the warmth of his body next to her, after she left him.
But as Trent Kort gently pushed her back on the couch and covered her body with his, Jenny allowed herself to push the thoughts of Jethro out of her mind for the first time in eight years.
---
“What were you doing for 21 hours, Jenny?”
Jennifer Shepard looked up to find a stern, familiar stare. Ice blue eyes that seemed to be looking right into her soul, making her feel exposed to the bone. He shouldn’t be scolding her like a protective father for ditching her detail. And he definitely shouldn’t be questioning her whereabouts like a jealous husband.
She wasn’t his, not anymore. No matter how much she herself wished she was. He didn’t have a say in what she could and what she could not do.
Irritation flashed across her face, and Gibbs recognized the look in her eyes. The feral spark of cruel amusement that was always there when she was about to strike.
“What we used to do, Jethro…” She paused, the ghost of a smirk playing around her lips, “Ever so well.”
THE END