[Part 2.3] Lost Yourself
It's a pretty low-key place, with just one guy at the door checking IDs. He had easily fallen to Jen's wit and charm, letting her in without any kind of ID at all. And once past him, the bartender passed out the liquor as long as she passed him the cash. The jukebox in the corner is pounding out some older Breaking Benjamin song--Blow Me Away, to be exact--but Jen's not there for the music. It sounds so much like Abby's music, she barely even notices it.
From her perch atop the bar, Jenny has a perfect view of the establishment. She can't remember how she got up there, but she doesn't really care, either. On her right, she has… What was his name again? Mark, maybe? And on her left is a guy who hasn't even told her his name yet. From up here, she can see the other guys watching her and the girlfriends glaring at her. It didn't take long for these guys to start buying her drinks like she's some kind of siren.
She sits there, flirting mercilessly with Mark on her right and Nameless on her left and Jack the Bartender at her back. They keep buying her drinks and she keeps putting them back like they're water. Normally, the bartender would keep a loose count on a girl like her, but tonight, she's got him wrapped around her little finger. She says "one more" and he says "yes, ma'am".
And it feels so fucking good.
When the hour for last call rolls around, Nameless gets lost in the sea of twenty-somethings and Jack is stuck closing up. But Mark on her right sticks close and as the lights come up, he's pressed up against her knees, looking up at her. The left shoulder of her over-sized sweater had started slipping and at some point, she stopped trying to right it, exposing her bare shoulder with the red bra strap and the top of the scar that points like an arrow down between her breasts. She leans forward, giving him an even better view at the rest of her, and says, "Help me down?" but it's not really a question. Jen doesn't have to ask; he's practically tripping over himself when she finally lets him touch her for the first time this evening.
Mark wraps his hands around her middle and plucks her from the bar top, but even with her feet firmly on the grimy floor, neither pulls away. He's close enough that she can feel his breath on her cheek and smell the beer on him. When he starts to move in to kiss her, she turns and untangles herself from his hands, heading for the door. Mark watches after her, confused, until she looks over her shoulder at him with one of those smirks of hers.
By the time he catches up with her, she's outside and already starting down the sidewalk. He comes up beside her and smiles down at her. She's quite a bit shorter than he is, but it doesn't bother her. She grins back as she walks in an unsteady path down the sidewalk, bumping into him every few feet.
"Do you live close?" he asks, leaning in close.
The upper floors of the Holiday Inn can be seen over some of the shorter buildings down the black and she points towards the top of the building. "Just up there," she says, her words a little slurred.
"I figured you as a W kinda girl," he answers. Unlike Jen, his size helps him hold his liquor a little better.
She stops walking and pokes his chest with one finger, then flattens her palm against him, "You have no idea, Mark." She turns back towards the hotel and starts walking again, adding, "I used to be somebody. Somebody really, really important."
"Oh yeah?" he comes up behind her as they wait at a corner for the light to change. He tries to wrap an arm around her, but she just casts a look over her shoulder. Very much the old Jen. He gets the message and stops moving abruptly.
"Yeah and then," she starts as the walk light changes from stop to go. She doesn't finish her sentence, though, as the curb in front of her goes out of its way to trip her up. Mark's reflexes are too slow and Jen ends up on the sidewalk. She's too drunk to realize what just happened. She couldn't walk a straight line to save her life right now which just makes her symptoms that much more pronounced. Sober, she'd be mortified. "Oh shit," she says with a small giggle. Mark helps her up and she smacks his chest and adds, "What good are you?"
"I'm good at a lot of other things. Maybe I can redeem myself," he answers, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer.
Jen just gives him that same warning look and pushes back with both hands on his chest. He lets out a frustrated sigh as she turns around again. The hotel is just in front of them and she leads him into the lobby, then up to her room. She fishes her cards from her pocket, first pulling out the metro card. "It's too bad the metro card won't unlock my door," she says, "It should be able to because I said it should."
Mark is again moving in on her to kiss her, but just as soon as she gets the key card out, the door opens. It's late enough that the hotel just has that feeling of everyone being asleep. Everyone except Gibbs.
"Jethro," she purrs, stepping into him and draping her arms over his shoulders. She smiles up at him, then turns over her shoulder, "This is Mark. He bought me really good bourbon." Gibbs just raises his eyebrows, but gives nothing else away with his expression as he looks over the younger man.
"Uh, it's Chris, actually," he answers with fear in his voice, "And I just wanted to make sure she got home okay. Sir."
"She did," Gibbs says in that way that doesn't invite any more conversation.
Chris doesn't waste any more time in the hallway and quickly heads on his own way home. Gibbs untangles himself from Jen and closes the door. When he turns around, she's right there and drapes her arms over his shoulders again.
"Let's run away to Mexico, Jethro," she drawls, closing her eyes, "To that beach of yours, where we won't need social security numbers or jobs or anything and we can just be."
"You're drunk, Jen." She wouldn't be suggesting that idea if she weren't and Gibbs knows this. Doesn't matter how good of an idea it is.
"Only a little," she opens her eyes again and smiles at him."
"A lot. How much did you have?" but he hasn't pulled away from her yet.
She kisses him, "I lost count. Does it matter?" But she doesn't wait for him to answer and pulls away, walking further into the room.
"Might," he says as she starts peeling her sweater off. She drops the garment on the bed and turns around to face him, standing there in the middle of the room in just her jeans and candy red bra. All Gibbs can do for a moment is stare.
"Pick your chin up off the floor, Jethro," she says, crossing over to him again. She tangles the fingers of one hand in his hair and pulls him forward with her other.
"Jen…" she keeps walking backwards toward the bed, pulling him with her. His eyes travel south to the scar that still looks very new. He imagines she's not feeling much pain tonight. The backs of her knees bump up against the edge of the bed and she kisses him again, deeper. But Gibbs breaks the kiss, "Jen, stop. This isn't what you want." He meets her eyes, trying not to look at the rest of her. It only breaks his heart.
She sits on the bed and flops back with her hands over her stomach. "How do you know?" she purrs again and raises an eyebrow, "Maybe I changed my mind."
"I know you and I know you didn't. You're going to hate yourself in the morning," he answers firmly, even if he's dying to take her at her word. He bends down at pulls off her shoes one at a time, noticing the skid marks on her knees and he knows she fell at some point. He looks up at her and wonders what the hell happened to her. This isn't his Jen. She hasn't been the same since California, or maybe even before that. She's falling apart.
She shakes her head with a smile, "C'est si bon, Jethro."
He sighs, "No, Jen." He straightens up and disappears into the bathroom to get her a glass of water.
By the time he comes back, she's passed out. He sets the glass on the nightstand and pulls back the blankets on the bed, tugging them from under her. For a moment, he debates taking her jeans off and eventually decides she'll be happier if he does. She doesn't stir as he gets her jeans off and into one of his t-shirts. With Jen on her side, he pulls the blankets up around her. He pulls his own jeans off and crawls under the blankets with her, curling up against her back, though he doesn't think he'll do any sleeping tonight. He'll be too busy worrying about her. He wraps his arm around her and presses a kiss to the back of her neck.
[words 1614]
From her perch atop the bar, Jenny has a perfect view of the establishment. She can't remember how she got up there, but she doesn't really care, either. On her right, she has… What was his name again? Mark, maybe? And on her left is a guy who hasn't even told her his name yet. From up here, she can see the other guys watching her and the girlfriends glaring at her. It didn't take long for these guys to start buying her drinks like she's some kind of siren.
She sits there, flirting mercilessly with Mark on her right and Nameless on her left and Jack the Bartender at her back. They keep buying her drinks and she keeps putting them back like they're water. Normally, the bartender would keep a loose count on a girl like her, but tonight, she's got him wrapped around her little finger. She says "one more" and he says "yes, ma'am".
And it feels so fucking good.
When the hour for last call rolls around, Nameless gets lost in the sea of twenty-somethings and Jack is stuck closing up. But Mark on her right sticks close and as the lights come up, he's pressed up against her knees, looking up at her. The left shoulder of her over-sized sweater had started slipping and at some point, she stopped trying to right it, exposing her bare shoulder with the red bra strap and the top of the scar that points like an arrow down between her breasts. She leans forward, giving him an even better view at the rest of her, and says, "Help me down?" but it's not really a question. Jen doesn't have to ask; he's practically tripping over himself when she finally lets him touch her for the first time this evening.
Mark wraps his hands around her middle and plucks her from the bar top, but even with her feet firmly on the grimy floor, neither pulls away. He's close enough that she can feel his breath on her cheek and smell the beer on him. When he starts to move in to kiss her, she turns and untangles herself from his hands, heading for the door. Mark watches after her, confused, until she looks over her shoulder at him with one of those smirks of hers.
By the time he catches up with her, she's outside and already starting down the sidewalk. He comes up beside her and smiles down at her. She's quite a bit shorter than he is, but it doesn't bother her. She grins back as she walks in an unsteady path down the sidewalk, bumping into him every few feet.
"Do you live close?" he asks, leaning in close.
The upper floors of the Holiday Inn can be seen over some of the shorter buildings down the black and she points towards the top of the building. "Just up there," she says, her words a little slurred.
"I figured you as a W kinda girl," he answers. Unlike Jen, his size helps him hold his liquor a little better.
She stops walking and pokes his chest with one finger, then flattens her palm against him, "You have no idea, Mark." She turns back towards the hotel and starts walking again, adding, "I used to be somebody. Somebody really, really important."
"Oh yeah?" he comes up behind her as they wait at a corner for the light to change. He tries to wrap an arm around her, but she just casts a look over her shoulder. Very much the old Jen. He gets the message and stops moving abruptly.
"Yeah and then," she starts as the walk light changes from stop to go. She doesn't finish her sentence, though, as the curb in front of her goes out of its way to trip her up. Mark's reflexes are too slow and Jen ends up on the sidewalk. She's too drunk to realize what just happened. She couldn't walk a straight line to save her life right now which just makes her symptoms that much more pronounced. Sober, she'd be mortified. "Oh shit," she says with a small giggle. Mark helps her up and she smacks his chest and adds, "What good are you?"
"I'm good at a lot of other things. Maybe I can redeem myself," he answers, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer.
Jen just gives him that same warning look and pushes back with both hands on his chest. He lets out a frustrated sigh as she turns around again. The hotel is just in front of them and she leads him into the lobby, then up to her room. She fishes her cards from her pocket, first pulling out the metro card. "It's too bad the metro card won't unlock my door," she says, "It should be able to because I said it should."
Mark is again moving in on her to kiss her, but just as soon as she gets the key card out, the door opens. It's late enough that the hotel just has that feeling of everyone being asleep. Everyone except Gibbs.
"Jethro," she purrs, stepping into him and draping her arms over his shoulders. She smiles up at him, then turns over her shoulder, "This is Mark. He bought me really good bourbon." Gibbs just raises his eyebrows, but gives nothing else away with his expression as he looks over the younger man.
"Uh, it's Chris, actually," he answers with fear in his voice, "And I just wanted to make sure she got home okay. Sir."
"She did," Gibbs says in that way that doesn't invite any more conversation.
Chris doesn't waste any more time in the hallway and quickly heads on his own way home. Gibbs untangles himself from Jen and closes the door. When he turns around, she's right there and drapes her arms over his shoulders again.
"Let's run away to Mexico, Jethro," she drawls, closing her eyes, "To that beach of yours, where we won't need social security numbers or jobs or anything and we can just be."
"You're drunk, Jen." She wouldn't be suggesting that idea if she weren't and Gibbs knows this. Doesn't matter how good of an idea it is.
"Only a little," she opens her eyes again and smiles at him."
"A lot. How much did you have?" but he hasn't pulled away from her yet.
She kisses him, "I lost count. Does it matter?" But she doesn't wait for him to answer and pulls away, walking further into the room.
"Might," he says as she starts peeling her sweater off. She drops the garment on the bed and turns around to face him, standing there in the middle of the room in just her jeans and candy red bra. All Gibbs can do for a moment is stare.
"Pick your chin up off the floor, Jethro," she says, crossing over to him again. She tangles the fingers of one hand in his hair and pulls him forward with her other.
"Jen…" she keeps walking backwards toward the bed, pulling him with her. His eyes travel south to the scar that still looks very new. He imagines she's not feeling much pain tonight. The backs of her knees bump up against the edge of the bed and she kisses him again, deeper. But Gibbs breaks the kiss, "Jen, stop. This isn't what you want." He meets her eyes, trying not to look at the rest of her. It only breaks his heart.
She sits on the bed and flops back with her hands over her stomach. "How do you know?" she purrs again and raises an eyebrow, "Maybe I changed my mind."
"I know you and I know you didn't. You're going to hate yourself in the morning," he answers firmly, even if he's dying to take her at her word. He bends down at pulls off her shoes one at a time, noticing the skid marks on her knees and he knows she fell at some point. He looks up at her and wonders what the hell happened to her. This isn't his Jen. She hasn't been the same since California, or maybe even before that. She's falling apart.
She shakes her head with a smile, "C'est si bon, Jethro."
He sighs, "No, Jen." He straightens up and disappears into the bathroom to get her a glass of water.
By the time he comes back, she's passed out. He sets the glass on the nightstand and pulls back the blankets on the bed, tugging them from under her. For a moment, he debates taking her jeans off and eventually decides she'll be happier if he does. She doesn't stir as he gets her jeans off and into one of his t-shirts. With Jen on her side, he pulls the blankets up around her. He pulls his own jeans off and crawls under the blankets with her, curling up against her back, though he doesn't think he'll do any sleeping tonight. He'll be too busy worrying about her. He wraps his arm around her and presses a kiss to the back of her neck.
[words 1614]