[Oneshot] Time
TITLE: Time
AUTHOR: marciafan
CHARACTERS: Jenny Shepard, Jethro Gibbs
GENRE: Romance, Humor
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: What she had not planned, or even thought about, was him finding out.
WORD COUNT: 1,049
NOTES: English isn't my mother language and this is not beta'd, so please bear with me and my mistakes. Feedback (both positive and negative, as long as it's constructive) is very much appreciated. This was prompted by eating Chinese take-out, lol, then took on a life of its own once Jenny and Gibbs were involved.
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.
She had planned to live on coffee for the next 24 to 48 hours. She just wouldn’t have time to eat. Or sleep.
Coffee would thankfully take care of both needs.
What she had not planned, or even thought about, was him finding out.
---
“On the couch. Now.”
Jenny looked up from her desk and cracked a smirk as she looked into his eyes, “Do you think it’s the right time, Jethro? Or the right place?” She teased, leaning back against her chair.
“Time or location has never stopped you before.” He retorted, never missing a beat.
She laughed softly at the devilish smirk spreading across his face, then frowned as he placed a plastic bag on the small table in front of the couch and pulled Chinese food out of it.
“I really don’t have time to eat, Jethro.” She said seriously, turning back to her papers.
His large, strong hand slammed gently on the paper she was about to sign, and Jenny slowly looked up to find him invading her personal space.
“That’s why I brought take-out to you and didn’t take you out.”
“That an offer, Jethro?”
A mysterious smirk to match her own appeared on his face, but he decided to feign indifference without further addressing the subject, letting her question linger in the silence between them for a few seconds before he just dismissed it with an imperious: “Just sit on the damn couch and eat.”
She arched an elegant eyebrow in surprise at his tone and slowly rose to her feet, forcing him to step back slightly to avoid their bodies brushing against each other. A menacing glare in her eyes.
“I got your favorite.” He added with a barely concealed boyish smirk, his face still impossibly close to hers as her heels almost abated the height difference between them.
Jenny snorted, “Figures…” She pretended an exasperated sigh and walked past him to the couch, making sure to brush against his side with the movement. She felt, rather than heard, his sharp intake of breath and saw him close his eyes for a split second. Taking great pride in the knowledge that her perfume could still wreak havoc with his senses.
“Chow mein with chicken?” She asked as she took off her heels and finally curled up on the couch on the other side of her office.
“And egg rolls.” He answered, handing her an oyster pail and chopsticks.
“Just the few thousands of calories I needed.” She paused and smirked at his stern look, “But I trust you to help me get rid of those extra pounds, right?”
Gibbs’ jaw clenched visibly at her suggestive tone and Jenny fought the urge to giggle, settling for falling into a comfortable, yet charged silence.
She liked this kind of tension between them, the kind that always led to something potentially good. She liked to tease him and see the effect her words and actions had on him. It made her feel good to know that she still had him.
“When did you last eat, Jen?” His voice - serious and slightly concerned - dragged her out of her reverie, and she looked at him blankly for a fleeting moment, trying to remember.
“Yesterday. Had breakfast, I think.” She shrugged, feeling his glare on her as she looked at her food.
“You can’t eat every now and then, when you remember to, Jenny.”
She rolled her eyes, “Oh isn’t that nice? The pot calling the kettle black.”
Gibbs just glared at her and decided to ignore her sarcastic remark, looking deeply into her eyes, “How were you planning on going on until you left the office?”
“The way you do, Jethro; drinking coffee.”
“But you’re not me.”
Jenny laughed softly at his clever answer, “Chauvinist.” She retorted good-naturedly, and her mind registered the way his expression softened and his lips morphed into one of his signature smiles.
The familiar, comfortable silence falling upon them again as they finished their food.
---
Long, quiet minutes had passed as they chilled out on the couch after dinner, and Jenny realized all of a sudden that his arm had wormed its way around her shoulders and he was playing with a lock of her red hair, curling it around his fingers repeatedly.
And she simply didn’t mind.
“Don’t you have a boat to come home to?” She asked after a while, smirking teasingly as she turned to look at him.
He shrugged, “Not in the mood to work on the boat.”
The look of feigned shock on her face looked all but genuine as she stared at him with wide eyes, “Are you sick, Jethro?”
Gibbs snorted but ignored her mocking question, “I’ll wait for you.”
Her lips curved into a wicked smile, “Want to make sure the Director gets safely into bed, Agent Gibbs?” She slowly dragged her index finger up his shirt-covered chest, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
He didn’t answer this time, but the look on his face told her enough.
Jenny smiled and pulled away her teasing finger, slowly getting to her feet, “You really don’t have to stay.”
He again did not speak, but his eyes spoke volumes. Not only did he want to stay, but he wanted to drive her home too. Probably wishing she could dismiss her detail and have some privacy at last.
And again she found that she didn’t mind the idea, despite it being completely and utterly reckless.
“It might take a while.” She tried to reason, wanting to listen to the sensible voice in her head that told her how much of a spectacularly bad idea it was. Part of her - albeit a small one - hoping that her common sense would win over the other voice in her head.
The one that, most likely controlled by mere impulses and physical and emotional needs, would push her straight into his arms right then and there.
“I might have to stay here all night.” She added as she sat at her desk, looking at him as if hoping to catch a flicker of annoyance or uncertainty in his eyes.
Finding neither, as he just shrugged and sat more comfortably on the couch, watching her with an enigmatic smile on his face,
“Don’t worry, Jen. I have time.”
THE END
AUTHOR: marciafan
CHARACTERS: Jenny Shepard, Jethro Gibbs
GENRE: Romance, Humor
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: What she had not planned, or even thought about, was him finding out.
WORD COUNT: 1,049
NOTES: English isn't my mother language and this is not beta'd, so please bear with me and my mistakes. Feedback (both positive and negative, as long as it's constructive) is very much appreciated. This was prompted by eating Chinese take-out, lol, then took on a life of its own once Jenny and Gibbs were involved.
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.
She had planned to live on coffee for the next 24 to 48 hours. She just wouldn’t have time to eat. Or sleep.
Coffee would thankfully take care of both needs.
What she had not planned, or even thought about, was him finding out.
---
“On the couch. Now.”
Jenny looked up from her desk and cracked a smirk as she looked into his eyes, “Do you think it’s the right time, Jethro? Or the right place?” She teased, leaning back against her chair.
“Time or location has never stopped you before.” He retorted, never missing a beat.
She laughed softly at the devilish smirk spreading across his face, then frowned as he placed a plastic bag on the small table in front of the couch and pulled Chinese food out of it.
“I really don’t have time to eat, Jethro.” She said seriously, turning back to her papers.
His large, strong hand slammed gently on the paper she was about to sign, and Jenny slowly looked up to find him invading her personal space.
“That’s why I brought take-out to you and didn’t take you out.”
“That an offer, Jethro?”
A mysterious smirk to match her own appeared on his face, but he decided to feign indifference without further addressing the subject, letting her question linger in the silence between them for a few seconds before he just dismissed it with an imperious: “Just sit on the damn couch and eat.”
She arched an elegant eyebrow in surprise at his tone and slowly rose to her feet, forcing him to step back slightly to avoid their bodies brushing against each other. A menacing glare in her eyes.
“I got your favorite.” He added with a barely concealed boyish smirk, his face still impossibly close to hers as her heels almost abated the height difference between them.
Jenny snorted, “Figures…” She pretended an exasperated sigh and walked past him to the couch, making sure to brush against his side with the movement. She felt, rather than heard, his sharp intake of breath and saw him close his eyes for a split second. Taking great pride in the knowledge that her perfume could still wreak havoc with his senses.
“Chow mein with chicken?” She asked as she took off her heels and finally curled up on the couch on the other side of her office.
“And egg rolls.” He answered, handing her an oyster pail and chopsticks.
“Just the few thousands of calories I needed.” She paused and smirked at his stern look, “But I trust you to help me get rid of those extra pounds, right?”
Gibbs’ jaw clenched visibly at her suggestive tone and Jenny fought the urge to giggle, settling for falling into a comfortable, yet charged silence.
She liked this kind of tension between them, the kind that always led to something potentially good. She liked to tease him and see the effect her words and actions had on him. It made her feel good to know that she still had him.
“When did you last eat, Jen?” His voice - serious and slightly concerned - dragged her out of her reverie, and she looked at him blankly for a fleeting moment, trying to remember.
“Yesterday. Had breakfast, I think.” She shrugged, feeling his glare on her as she looked at her food.
“You can’t eat every now and then, when you remember to, Jenny.”
She rolled her eyes, “Oh isn’t that nice? The pot calling the kettle black.”
Gibbs just glared at her and decided to ignore her sarcastic remark, looking deeply into her eyes, “How were you planning on going on until you left the office?”
“The way you do, Jethro; drinking coffee.”
“But you’re not me.”
Jenny laughed softly at his clever answer, “Chauvinist.” She retorted good-naturedly, and her mind registered the way his expression softened and his lips morphed into one of his signature smiles.
The familiar, comfortable silence falling upon them again as they finished their food.
---
Long, quiet minutes had passed as they chilled out on the couch after dinner, and Jenny realized all of a sudden that his arm had wormed its way around her shoulders and he was playing with a lock of her red hair, curling it around his fingers repeatedly.
And she simply didn’t mind.
“Don’t you have a boat to come home to?” She asked after a while, smirking teasingly as she turned to look at him.
He shrugged, “Not in the mood to work on the boat.”
The look of feigned shock on her face looked all but genuine as she stared at him with wide eyes, “Are you sick, Jethro?”
Gibbs snorted but ignored her mocking question, “I’ll wait for you.”
Her lips curved into a wicked smile, “Want to make sure the Director gets safely into bed, Agent Gibbs?” She slowly dragged her index finger up his shirt-covered chest, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
He didn’t answer this time, but the look on his face told her enough.
Jenny smiled and pulled away her teasing finger, slowly getting to her feet, “You really don’t have to stay.”
He again did not speak, but his eyes spoke volumes. Not only did he want to stay, but he wanted to drive her home too. Probably wishing she could dismiss her detail and have some privacy at last.
And again she found that she didn’t mind the idea, despite it being completely and utterly reckless.
“It might take a while.” She tried to reason, wanting to listen to the sensible voice in her head that told her how much of a spectacularly bad idea it was. Part of her - albeit a small one - hoping that her common sense would win over the other voice in her head.
The one that, most likely controlled by mere impulses and physical and emotional needs, would push her straight into his arms right then and there.
“I might have to stay here all night.” She added as she sat at her desk, looking at him as if hoping to catch a flicker of annoyance or uncertainty in his eyes.
Finding neither, as he just shrugged and sat more comfortably on the couch, watching her with an enigmatic smile on his face,
“Don’t worry, Jen. I have time.”
THE END