NCIS Fic: Paris to Serbia (Ch 9)
Series: Paris to Serbia
Chapter 9: Between the Shadows
Author: vegawriters
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Jenny/Gibbs
Timeframe: Pre-Series
Rating: Adult
A/N: I’ve always had a problem with the idea that Jenny rose to her position in NCIS so quickly. So this series gives some history not only to Gibbs and Shepard, but also to Jenny’s past and where her skills lie.
Disclaimer: I keep falling in love with beautiful characters already written by other people. If CBS is looking for a young, up and coming writer who will devote herself wholeheartedly to the process, I’m the right girl. Otherwise, I make no money from this. NCIS, Jenny, Gibbs, and the team belong to other people. I’m just walking with them for a while.
Summary: Despite being completely Matt and Kitty, they were also a schizophrenic combination of Jethro and Jenny and he was falling for her as Jenny, as Kitty, as anything and anyone that came along with the package.
Paris was intoxicating, but more so, she was intoxicating. The smell of her perfume, the way her hair trailed down to her shoulders, how the fabric of her clothing caressed the skin he’d been kissing only hours before. Watching her as she navigated the market, it was far too easy to forget they were here for a purpose. So he reached for her hand and they walked together, fingers linked, knowing that one of Salvo’s goons was following them. Despite being completely Matt and Kitty, they were also a schizophrenic combination of Jethro and Jenny and he was falling for her as Jenny, as Kitty, as anything and anyone that came along with the package.
Jenny gasped something in French and he wracked his brain, trying to make the translation. His Russian was better than his French but he was sure she said something about glass ornaments in the window and light in the bedroom. But he was also happy to admit any translations were garbled in his mind because he was staring at her ass. She pulled him over to a street vendor and held up one of the glass baubles the old man was selling. The light caught it right at the perfect moment and it splashed rays of light onto her hair and her bright green eyes reflected the rainbow around her.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he reached forward and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Jenny smiled and stepped in, closing the already miniscule gap between their lips. She moaned softly into the kiss, her hand reaching around his neck to pull him closer, his hands circling her waist, pressing their hips together. He wanted her now, right here, on the street if need be. Decker crackled in his ear to keep it clean but Jethro ignored him as, somehow, he pulled Jenny even closer.
“Keep it clean, guys. Really. It’s Paris not a sex club.”
In response, Jethro kissed her harder and Jenny moaned softly when they finally broke apart. Her gaze went over his shoulder and she cleared her throat. On pretense of looking at another of the ornaments, Jethro turned and let his eyes wander the crowd on the street. Fifty feet behind, a man from Salvo’s crew stood at another shop, flitting uselessly through the merchandise. “Two o’clock,” he whispered so Decker could hear him, “Fifty feet behind.”
“Right.” She slipped around him, put the glass charm in the hand of the vendor, and negotiated the price down a few francs. He stood behind her, pretending to look at a wind chime, watching Salvo’s man wander and try to look like he wasn’t following them.
She slipped the charm into her bag and then walked over and took his hand. “Dinner, Matthew?”
“I’d be delighted.” They kept walking, toward a small restaurant with a few tables on the sidewalk. Jethro could hear the man’s shoes on the pavement.
It was a small café and they sat at one of the smaller tables nearest the restaurant, sipping wine and staring into each other’s eyes. Salvo’s man hovered in windows nearby, waiting for his time to approach. A waiter not assigned to their table came by, left a piece of paper, and walked away. Jethro took it and looked. The name of a warehouse. A time. He committed it to memory and held the piece of paper over the candle and watched as it all turned to ash.
***
He was nervous and it bugged her. She didn’t want to go back into Salvo’s snake pit anymore than he wanted her to, but they had a damned job to do and they couldn’t do it if they were nervous and jumpy. They were supposed to be gun runners, money launderers. They were here to break apart gun smuggling rings, not celebrate a Parisian vacation on behalf of the US taxpayer.
Jenny set the makeup brush down on the vanity and turned her head, staring at him over her shoulder. “You’re with me this time, Jethro. Would you please relax? For me. I can’t work if you’re jumpy like this.”
“I’m not worried about you.” His blue eyes met hers, betraying the lie, but she gave it to him. “I’m worried about what we don’t know.” He leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms out across the back. He flexed his fingers and cracked his neck and she resisted the urge to walk over and rub his shoulders. “I’m worried about what you still haven’t told me.”
“What do you mean?” She crossed her arms and stared at him, adopting a look of defiance that used to get her in trouble back at FLETC. “You know everything.”
“No, Jenny, I don’t.” He returned the look and she squirmed. The look wasn’t one of a worried lover, but one of a senior agent dressing down his subordinate. She had become so used to operating on an even keel with him that she’d actually forgotten he was her superior officer in this situation. She hadn’t been giving him enough credit as an agent. “I know that Salvo was drugging you.” His voice was low and cold. “I know that you disappeared for weeks and came back with enough intel to take down the whole ring but yet we aren’t being allowed to actually do it. I don’t know if I want to know what you did to get that intel, but I’ve read the reports you turned in and I can tell you’re leaving things out and I need to know what they are before we get into the party.”
Foggy flashbacks haunted her. The cold, dark room. The voice. The men around her. One familiar voice chuckling. Money changing hands. “What do you mean?”
“When you came back, you sounded like you’d been speaking Russian for weeks. Salvo doesn’t know you can speak it. Or does he? Who blew that cover? Was it you or Vance?”
She sighed and turned back to the mirror. Party after party haunted her, flashing behind her eyes - her first time in the snake pit without Jethro, with only Vance as her backup. Vance, who had given her that first drink, who had whispered something to Salvo that had him pushing her up against the wall and hissing in her ear even while he hiked her skirt up.
“What else don’t I know about you, Kitty?”
The hard feeling at her back hadn’t been Salvo but his gun, pressed into her ribcage. His guards had grabbed her, dragging her. Before she’d blacked out, she looked over to see Vance standing there at the top of the stairs in the club, that toothpick in his mouth. But she’d survived. Telling Jethro would only … only what? She didn’t know if Vance had really had anything to do with her trip into hell, but he hadn’t dragged her out. Was this what it meant to be undercover like this? Did state sanctioned destruction mean selling her soul?
She couldn’t go there, so instead she shifted her weight and crossed her arms over her chest. “He knows,” she admitted. “Vance told him, it’s the only way he figured it out. But I played it, okay. Told him I kept it quiet cause I was able to get more done.” She rubbed her jaw idly, remembering how he hit her, remembering the questions he’d asked about what she already knew. There were some things Jethro didn’t need to know. “It’s how I was able to get such good intel. He used me as a go between with rival groups. It’s not as bad as you’re thinking. Mostly, I was window dressing.” It was the truth as far as she could remember it. Salvo was possessive of the women he wanted and she couldn’t run information if she was completely messed up. But she couldn’t remember everything and it scared her. The fog was ever present.
“Jesus, Jenny. Why …”
She shook her head. “Because you saw the bruises, Jethro.” Her stomach was starting to churn. “I just … I want to forget those weeks ever happened. As an agent, I know I can’t. But as a human being …” A long breath escaped her lungs and she turned, the churning in her stomach suddenly becoming the need to vomit. Her wig fell loose as she bent over the toilet and puked up what little food she’d eaten over the last day.
“Jenny,” he was rubbing her back while she caught her breath, “where the hell was Vance in all this?”
“Getting closer to the crew I can’t access.” It was a lie, but she wasn’t sure exactly what Vance had been doing, so she covered for him. Her legs gave out and she slumped against the toilet, wiping her mouth with the towel Jethro handed her.
“He’s your control officer. He sticks with you.”
“Apparently he has different ideas about what it all means.” She pushed him away, confused to his motives. One minute he was her team leader, the next her lover. On shaking legs she stood and leaned over the sink, rinsing out her mouth. She’d have to brush her teeth and start her makeup over again. “I’m alive. To him, that’s all that matters.”
“What else happened, Jenny?” His hand was on her hip, his fingers pressing into a bruise that still had not healed.
“That’s it, Jethro.” All that she could remember, anyway. “My cover is still good. Salvo thinks I’ve been fooling you about how smart I am. He thinks I actually control everything, not you, and that I’ve been jerking everyone around by their cocks. After he … established … the chain of command for me, everything has been fine.”
She closed her eyes against the pain in his. “I’m fine, Jethro.” His grip slipped a bit and she knelt down, grabbed her wig off the floor, and went back to fix her makeup. She had to stay focused and his torment between life as her lover and life as her partner couldn’t distract her. Her stomach churned again.
“How are you feeling?” His hands rested on her shoulders and his concerned blue eyes met hers in the mirror. She sighed and leaned back into his strength. “Really, Jen, how are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.” She gave him a soft smile. “Let’s get this done and over with so that we can get back here and forget about this god dammed assignment.” It was too simple a desire. Here she was bitching about his lack of focus and all she wanted was to leave it all behind.
This assignment was just the beginning. After this, they had to find the ship that was taking the guns and women out of the country. They had to follow the money through Serbia. If they were lucky, they’d be done in a year. What then? If she and Jethro were assigned together again, could they adjust to a life in DC or San Diego or Spain? Suddenly, she missed her desk back at the naval yard. She missed translating cables and reporting on chatter. She missed lunches with the director and dinners with different junior senators. She reached up and squeezed Jethro’s hands.
Suddenly, it hit her how much she cared for him and she wanted to say something, anything, but the words left her brain and stopped at her mouth. It was too soon for declarations of love, especially when all they knew was the rush of undercover. Would he care that she had a tendency to leave the cap off the toothpaste and leave her clothes in a line on the way to the bathroom at the end of the day? She didn’t drink bourbon. She wanted to be director. He liked being a field agent. She read Tolstoy. He read Clancy.
Maybe she just had to enjoy her time as a Bond Girl and then move on. But it didn’t change how she felt about him. None of it did. He leaned in to kiss her and she responded, wrapping her hand around his neck and pulling him closer. They had time and she didn’t care if she had to do her makeup again. She wanted to make love to him.
Jethro’s grip on her waist was gentle as he pulled her up against him and loosened the robe she wore. Naked underneath save for her garter set, he groaned at the sight of her. She went to step out of her heels but he shook his head. “Leave em on, Jen.”
Yes, Bond Girl.
He walked her back to the bedroom and with each step, her knees wobbled a little more. Decker was just in the next room but she didn’t care that Jethro left the door open. She slid onto the bed, opening her legs for his view while he unbuttoned his shirt and kicked his pants aside. He came at her, a tiger hunting prey, and as he covered her mouth with his, she gave into the excitement and the danger of what they had accepted for their lives. She could love him like this, in moments like this. The rest would have to take care of itself.
***
Vance met them at the back door of the club, helping them slide past the bouncers out front. He was chewing on a toothpick and the look he gave Jenny made her skin crawl. Covering her unease, she rolled her eyes and slipped past, stepping on his foot in the process. Her heel sunk into the soft part of his shoe and he winced. She just shrugged an innocent apology before grabbing Jethro’s arm and leading him deeper into the club.
Bodies writhed around them, a bizarre return to some ancient rite. But as much as she wanted to press her body to Jethro’s again, to feel his hands moving on her, they weren’t there to dance. At the far end of the club was a door that lead upstairs, to where Salvo held court. Giving the guard a look, he nodded and let her through so she went, leading Jethro and Vance up to the top floor. The stairs were rickety and filled with young women, none of whom were older than twenty-one. Her stomach lurched again but she focused on the case. Maybe they could save some of them from lives in brothels. At the top of the stairs, she let go of Jethro’s hand but turned back to him. “Here goes.”
He nodded. She cast Vance a passing glance and then walked into the club. Decker was outside in a car if things went South. She and Gibbs both had knives concealed and she knew where Jethro was packing his backup.
As she crossed the floor, Jenny completely fell away and she became Kitty, smooth and in control yet willing to be dominated by Salvo. He rose from his chair as she approached, leering at her while he took her hand and kissed it.
“Ahhh, Kitty,” he said slyly, in English for Matthew’s sake. “So good to see you again. I did not think your man would allow it.”
“Now you know who is really in control, Salvo.” Jenny kissed his cheeks and shooed one of the girls out of a chair. “So do you have a price for me?” Vance placed a drink in front of her but she didn’t sip. Not again. If he was the one putting the drugs in her drinks, she wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. If it was Salvo, she was done being his plaything. He’d string them along for weeks just to keep getting off and they’d never move this forward.
“Two million American.”
She grunted. “For what? That’s your starting offer?”
“I’d have gone lower, but you didn’t come alone tonight.”
“Keep it in your pants. That’s what you have groupies for.” She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse and leaned forward, taking a light from one of the all too eager bodyguards. She smirked at him and then waved for Jethro to take a place behind her. He did, his hand on her shoulder, staring at Vance.
“So,” she slipped into Russian, “what is next in our deal, Salvo. Stop jerking me around.”
“Drink, my love,” he sneered.
“Business first. Then pleasure.” Jenny took a long drag of the cigarette. “When do things move into Serbia? You don’t get any money from me until you prove to me this is about more than sex. I don’t need you to get laid.”
Salvo choked. Vance stumbled. Jenny held her place perfectly and chuckled not at their reaction but at how Jethro’s hand tightened on her shoulder. She looked up, smirked, and then focused her attention back on setting up the next step.
***
He just didn’t care who heard them anymore. Jenny was gasping his name, loud in his ears despite her legs on either side of his head. She writhed, groaning, and if he wasn’t damned sure she was going to be still coming when he plunged into her, he’d give and let her release. But she was teetering on the edge and he loved torturing her.
“Now, Jethro,” she moaned, arching again. “Now. Please God.”
He gave in to her begging and bit her clit hard between his teeth. She screamed as her entire body convulsed and he moved up, parting legs that were trying to close, angled his body, and pushed into her. She cried out again, reaching for him, and he thrust, knowing he’d set a pace completely opposite what her writhing ached for. It was torturous bliss.
Her nails tore into his back, her heels urged him forward, and it wasn’t long before he emptied himself into her, gasping as he collapsed. She absorbed his weight without complaint, running her hands down the marks she’d left in the throes of orgasm.
“Fuck,” he whispered into her sweaty neck. “It’s never been like this.”
A part of him recoiled at the all too honest admission. Making love to Shannon had been special and perfect. Fucking her had been tense and passionate. Jenny wasn’t Shannon he not only wasn’t expecting her to be, he didn’t want her to be. He was glad she was just who she was. His arms went tightly around her as he shifted himself, not yet pulling out, wanting to keep her close and wrapped in him.
“For me either,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his cheek. He groaned and kissed her softly, letting it build but not expecting anything. They were both exhausted.
Slowly he rolled them, wincing as he slipped free of her body, and she adjusted herself, relaxing against his chest. Whispered words of love threatened to pass his lips, but he knew they were brought about from the euphoria of the moment, not the reality of their relationship. But he could love her. This much he knew.
“When did you lose your virginity?” He asked, teasing lightly, running his fingers through her sweaty hair. He wanted to talk about more than the case and wanted to do more than have sex. He wanted to know her.
“Hmmm. Three days shy of my sixteenth birthday,” she grinned into his chest. Her teeth nipped at his nipple and he groaned. “In the bed of Mike Hales’ truck, out by the river, with Cashmere playing in the background.” Another nip. Another groan. “My parents thought I was at a girlfriend’s house.”
“Hmmm,” Jethro moaned. He could see a young, fearless Jenny, sneaking out of her parent’s house, racing out into the night with a boy he was sure her father wouldn’t have approved of. “You at sixteen. I’d have liked to see that.”
“You’re a dirty old man.”
“Not that much older than you.”
She chuckled and nipped him again. “Quid pro quo.”
He sighed. “I was seventeen,” he admitted. “She didn’t mean as much to me as she should have.”
“You were seventeen,” she repeated. “No girl meant what she should have.”
“You have a point.” And he sighed, glad he’d avoided the Shannon question. Glad for the first time in his life that he hadn’t lost his virginity to her because he wouldn’t have been able to keep that part of his life from Jenny and he didn’t want her to know. She wasn’t a replacement. She didn’t fill the void. She was just Jenny and that was what mattered.
Maybe someday. When they were done with Europe. When they were more than agents. Someday he’d take her to the house in DC and open the door to the room that held Shannon and Kelly’s things and tell her everything. Right now, he just wanted to be with her and focus on her.
Jenny lifted her head for a kiss. Jethro pressed his lips to hers and pushed away the ghosts.
He’d rolled them again, moving the sheets out of the way, when there was a quick rap against the door. “Jethro?” Ducky sounded uncomfortable. “I hate to bother you, but we need to talk.”
He groaned and pulled back. “Give me a second, Duck.”
Jenny sighed and sat up. She ran her hands over her hair, but it was useless. They were both a mess. With an exaggerated huff, she stood up and reached for her robe. It was Ducky, he wouldn’t care about seeing them in any kind of state of undress but Jethro pulled on his boxers and Jeans, knowing, somehow, they were headed out. When Jenny was at least covered (if that slip of a robe could be considered covered), he opened the door and let the doctor in.
The older man smirked at them. “Hmm. Young love.”
“What do you need, Duck?” He knew he sounded short, but he wasn’t a fan of being interrupted. Jenny looked equally frustrated. Ducky looked smug.
“One of our marks has turned up dead of his own accord. NCIS and M-5 wants us to investigate before the locals get a hold of things. So, we need to leave now.”
Jethro groaned. Really, given what he’d just been doing to Jenny, he needed a shower. “Give me five minutes.” He looked at Jenny, who was suddenly the picture of professionalism, even sitting there in the rose colored robe he’d bought for her earlier. “You get ready to go and back us up. Get on the channel and be ready to roll with Decker.”
“No problem.”
“All right,” Jethro got to his feet, “I’ll be ready in five.” Ducky left them alone and Jethro moved to the bathroom. “Come on, Jen,” he teased.
“No. You’ve got to be ready in five. I’ll slow you down, you know I will.”
He chuckled and nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Anyway, I have to brush my hair out before I ever get in the shower.” She moved to the dresser and retrieved a brush. Jethro watched her for a moment, his heart warring with his professional side. But the professional side won out and he headed into the bathroom to make himself presentable.
TBC …
Chapter 9: Between the Shadows
Author: vegawriters
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Jenny/Gibbs
Timeframe: Pre-Series
Rating: Adult
A/N: I’ve always had a problem with the idea that Jenny rose to her position in NCIS so quickly. So this series gives some history not only to Gibbs and Shepard, but also to Jenny’s past and where her skills lie.
Disclaimer: I keep falling in love with beautiful characters already written by other people. If CBS is looking for a young, up and coming writer who will devote herself wholeheartedly to the process, I’m the right girl. Otherwise, I make no money from this. NCIS, Jenny, Gibbs, and the team belong to other people. I’m just walking with them for a while.
Summary: Despite being completely Matt and Kitty, they were also a schizophrenic combination of Jethro and Jenny and he was falling for her as Jenny, as Kitty, as anything and anyone that came along with the package.
Paris was intoxicating, but more so, she was intoxicating. The smell of her perfume, the way her hair trailed down to her shoulders, how the fabric of her clothing caressed the skin he’d been kissing only hours before. Watching her as she navigated the market, it was far too easy to forget they were here for a purpose. So he reached for her hand and they walked together, fingers linked, knowing that one of Salvo’s goons was following them. Despite being completely Matt and Kitty, they were also a schizophrenic combination of Jethro and Jenny and he was falling for her as Jenny, as Kitty, as anything and anyone that came along with the package.
Jenny gasped something in French and he wracked his brain, trying to make the translation. His Russian was better than his French but he was sure she said something about glass ornaments in the window and light in the bedroom. But he was also happy to admit any translations were garbled in his mind because he was staring at her ass. She pulled him over to a street vendor and held up one of the glass baubles the old man was selling. The light caught it right at the perfect moment and it splashed rays of light onto her hair and her bright green eyes reflected the rainbow around her.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he reached forward and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Jenny smiled and stepped in, closing the already miniscule gap between their lips. She moaned softly into the kiss, her hand reaching around his neck to pull him closer, his hands circling her waist, pressing their hips together. He wanted her now, right here, on the street if need be. Decker crackled in his ear to keep it clean but Jethro ignored him as, somehow, he pulled Jenny even closer.
“Keep it clean, guys. Really. It’s Paris not a sex club.”
In response, Jethro kissed her harder and Jenny moaned softly when they finally broke apart. Her gaze went over his shoulder and she cleared her throat. On pretense of looking at another of the ornaments, Jethro turned and let his eyes wander the crowd on the street. Fifty feet behind, a man from Salvo’s crew stood at another shop, flitting uselessly through the merchandise. “Two o’clock,” he whispered so Decker could hear him, “Fifty feet behind.”
“Right.” She slipped around him, put the glass charm in the hand of the vendor, and negotiated the price down a few francs. He stood behind her, pretending to look at a wind chime, watching Salvo’s man wander and try to look like he wasn’t following them.
She slipped the charm into her bag and then walked over and took his hand. “Dinner, Matthew?”
“I’d be delighted.” They kept walking, toward a small restaurant with a few tables on the sidewalk. Jethro could hear the man’s shoes on the pavement.
It was a small café and they sat at one of the smaller tables nearest the restaurant, sipping wine and staring into each other’s eyes. Salvo’s man hovered in windows nearby, waiting for his time to approach. A waiter not assigned to their table came by, left a piece of paper, and walked away. Jethro took it and looked. The name of a warehouse. A time. He committed it to memory and held the piece of paper over the candle and watched as it all turned to ash.
***
He was nervous and it bugged her. She didn’t want to go back into Salvo’s snake pit anymore than he wanted her to, but they had a damned job to do and they couldn’t do it if they were nervous and jumpy. They were supposed to be gun runners, money launderers. They were here to break apart gun smuggling rings, not celebrate a Parisian vacation on behalf of the US taxpayer.
Jenny set the makeup brush down on the vanity and turned her head, staring at him over her shoulder. “You’re with me this time, Jethro. Would you please relax? For me. I can’t work if you’re jumpy like this.”
“I’m not worried about you.” His blue eyes met hers, betraying the lie, but she gave it to him. “I’m worried about what we don’t know.” He leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms out across the back. He flexed his fingers and cracked his neck and she resisted the urge to walk over and rub his shoulders. “I’m worried about what you still haven’t told me.”
“What do you mean?” She crossed her arms and stared at him, adopting a look of defiance that used to get her in trouble back at FLETC. “You know everything.”
“No, Jenny, I don’t.” He returned the look and she squirmed. The look wasn’t one of a worried lover, but one of a senior agent dressing down his subordinate. She had become so used to operating on an even keel with him that she’d actually forgotten he was her superior officer in this situation. She hadn’t been giving him enough credit as an agent. “I know that Salvo was drugging you.” His voice was low and cold. “I know that you disappeared for weeks and came back with enough intel to take down the whole ring but yet we aren’t being allowed to actually do it. I don’t know if I want to know what you did to get that intel, but I’ve read the reports you turned in and I can tell you’re leaving things out and I need to know what they are before we get into the party.”
Foggy flashbacks haunted her. The cold, dark room. The voice. The men around her. One familiar voice chuckling. Money changing hands. “What do you mean?”
“When you came back, you sounded like you’d been speaking Russian for weeks. Salvo doesn’t know you can speak it. Or does he? Who blew that cover? Was it you or Vance?”
She sighed and turned back to the mirror. Party after party haunted her, flashing behind her eyes - her first time in the snake pit without Jethro, with only Vance as her backup. Vance, who had given her that first drink, who had whispered something to Salvo that had him pushing her up against the wall and hissing in her ear even while he hiked her skirt up.
“What else don’t I know about you, Kitty?”
The hard feeling at her back hadn’t been Salvo but his gun, pressed into her ribcage. His guards had grabbed her, dragging her. Before she’d blacked out, she looked over to see Vance standing there at the top of the stairs in the club, that toothpick in his mouth. But she’d survived. Telling Jethro would only … only what? She didn’t know if Vance had really had anything to do with her trip into hell, but he hadn’t dragged her out. Was this what it meant to be undercover like this? Did state sanctioned destruction mean selling her soul?
She couldn’t go there, so instead she shifted her weight and crossed her arms over her chest. “He knows,” she admitted. “Vance told him, it’s the only way he figured it out. But I played it, okay. Told him I kept it quiet cause I was able to get more done.” She rubbed her jaw idly, remembering how he hit her, remembering the questions he’d asked about what she already knew. There were some things Jethro didn’t need to know. “It’s how I was able to get such good intel. He used me as a go between with rival groups. It’s not as bad as you’re thinking. Mostly, I was window dressing.” It was the truth as far as she could remember it. Salvo was possessive of the women he wanted and she couldn’t run information if she was completely messed up. But she couldn’t remember everything and it scared her. The fog was ever present.
“Jesus, Jenny. Why …”
She shook her head. “Because you saw the bruises, Jethro.” Her stomach was starting to churn. “I just … I want to forget those weeks ever happened. As an agent, I know I can’t. But as a human being …” A long breath escaped her lungs and she turned, the churning in her stomach suddenly becoming the need to vomit. Her wig fell loose as she bent over the toilet and puked up what little food she’d eaten over the last day.
“Jenny,” he was rubbing her back while she caught her breath, “where the hell was Vance in all this?”
“Getting closer to the crew I can’t access.” It was a lie, but she wasn’t sure exactly what Vance had been doing, so she covered for him. Her legs gave out and she slumped against the toilet, wiping her mouth with the towel Jethro handed her.
“He’s your control officer. He sticks with you.”
“Apparently he has different ideas about what it all means.” She pushed him away, confused to his motives. One minute he was her team leader, the next her lover. On shaking legs she stood and leaned over the sink, rinsing out her mouth. She’d have to brush her teeth and start her makeup over again. “I’m alive. To him, that’s all that matters.”
“What else happened, Jenny?” His hand was on her hip, his fingers pressing into a bruise that still had not healed.
“That’s it, Jethro.” All that she could remember, anyway. “My cover is still good. Salvo thinks I’ve been fooling you about how smart I am. He thinks I actually control everything, not you, and that I’ve been jerking everyone around by their cocks. After he … established … the chain of command for me, everything has been fine.”
She closed her eyes against the pain in his. “I’m fine, Jethro.” His grip slipped a bit and she knelt down, grabbed her wig off the floor, and went back to fix her makeup. She had to stay focused and his torment between life as her lover and life as her partner couldn’t distract her. Her stomach churned again.
“How are you feeling?” His hands rested on her shoulders and his concerned blue eyes met hers in the mirror. She sighed and leaned back into his strength. “Really, Jen, how are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.” She gave him a soft smile. “Let’s get this done and over with so that we can get back here and forget about this god dammed assignment.” It was too simple a desire. Here she was bitching about his lack of focus and all she wanted was to leave it all behind.
This assignment was just the beginning. After this, they had to find the ship that was taking the guns and women out of the country. They had to follow the money through Serbia. If they were lucky, they’d be done in a year. What then? If she and Jethro were assigned together again, could they adjust to a life in DC or San Diego or Spain? Suddenly, she missed her desk back at the naval yard. She missed translating cables and reporting on chatter. She missed lunches with the director and dinners with different junior senators. She reached up and squeezed Jethro’s hands.
Suddenly, it hit her how much she cared for him and she wanted to say something, anything, but the words left her brain and stopped at her mouth. It was too soon for declarations of love, especially when all they knew was the rush of undercover. Would he care that she had a tendency to leave the cap off the toothpaste and leave her clothes in a line on the way to the bathroom at the end of the day? She didn’t drink bourbon. She wanted to be director. He liked being a field agent. She read Tolstoy. He read Clancy.
Maybe she just had to enjoy her time as a Bond Girl and then move on. But it didn’t change how she felt about him. None of it did. He leaned in to kiss her and she responded, wrapping her hand around his neck and pulling him closer. They had time and she didn’t care if she had to do her makeup again. She wanted to make love to him.
Jethro’s grip on her waist was gentle as he pulled her up against him and loosened the robe she wore. Naked underneath save for her garter set, he groaned at the sight of her. She went to step out of her heels but he shook his head. “Leave em on, Jen.”
Yes, Bond Girl.
He walked her back to the bedroom and with each step, her knees wobbled a little more. Decker was just in the next room but she didn’t care that Jethro left the door open. She slid onto the bed, opening her legs for his view while he unbuttoned his shirt and kicked his pants aside. He came at her, a tiger hunting prey, and as he covered her mouth with his, she gave into the excitement and the danger of what they had accepted for their lives. She could love him like this, in moments like this. The rest would have to take care of itself.
***
Vance met them at the back door of the club, helping them slide past the bouncers out front. He was chewing on a toothpick and the look he gave Jenny made her skin crawl. Covering her unease, she rolled her eyes and slipped past, stepping on his foot in the process. Her heel sunk into the soft part of his shoe and he winced. She just shrugged an innocent apology before grabbing Jethro’s arm and leading him deeper into the club.
Bodies writhed around them, a bizarre return to some ancient rite. But as much as she wanted to press her body to Jethro’s again, to feel his hands moving on her, they weren’t there to dance. At the far end of the club was a door that lead upstairs, to where Salvo held court. Giving the guard a look, he nodded and let her through so she went, leading Jethro and Vance up to the top floor. The stairs were rickety and filled with young women, none of whom were older than twenty-one. Her stomach lurched again but she focused on the case. Maybe they could save some of them from lives in brothels. At the top of the stairs, she let go of Jethro’s hand but turned back to him. “Here goes.”
He nodded. She cast Vance a passing glance and then walked into the club. Decker was outside in a car if things went South. She and Gibbs both had knives concealed and she knew where Jethro was packing his backup.
As she crossed the floor, Jenny completely fell away and she became Kitty, smooth and in control yet willing to be dominated by Salvo. He rose from his chair as she approached, leering at her while he took her hand and kissed it.
“Ahhh, Kitty,” he said slyly, in English for Matthew’s sake. “So good to see you again. I did not think your man would allow it.”
“Now you know who is really in control, Salvo.” Jenny kissed his cheeks and shooed one of the girls out of a chair. “So do you have a price for me?” Vance placed a drink in front of her but she didn’t sip. Not again. If he was the one putting the drugs in her drinks, she wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. If it was Salvo, she was done being his plaything. He’d string them along for weeks just to keep getting off and they’d never move this forward.
“Two million American.”
She grunted. “For what? That’s your starting offer?”
“I’d have gone lower, but you didn’t come alone tonight.”
“Keep it in your pants. That’s what you have groupies for.” She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse and leaned forward, taking a light from one of the all too eager bodyguards. She smirked at him and then waved for Jethro to take a place behind her. He did, his hand on her shoulder, staring at Vance.
“So,” she slipped into Russian, “what is next in our deal, Salvo. Stop jerking me around.”
“Drink, my love,” he sneered.
“Business first. Then pleasure.” Jenny took a long drag of the cigarette. “When do things move into Serbia? You don’t get any money from me until you prove to me this is about more than sex. I don’t need you to get laid.”
Salvo choked. Vance stumbled. Jenny held her place perfectly and chuckled not at their reaction but at how Jethro’s hand tightened on her shoulder. She looked up, smirked, and then focused her attention back on setting up the next step.
***
He just didn’t care who heard them anymore. Jenny was gasping his name, loud in his ears despite her legs on either side of his head. She writhed, groaning, and if he wasn’t damned sure she was going to be still coming when he plunged into her, he’d give and let her release. But she was teetering on the edge and he loved torturing her.
“Now, Jethro,” she moaned, arching again. “Now. Please God.”
He gave in to her begging and bit her clit hard between his teeth. She screamed as her entire body convulsed and he moved up, parting legs that were trying to close, angled his body, and pushed into her. She cried out again, reaching for him, and he thrust, knowing he’d set a pace completely opposite what her writhing ached for. It was torturous bliss.
Her nails tore into his back, her heels urged him forward, and it wasn’t long before he emptied himself into her, gasping as he collapsed. She absorbed his weight without complaint, running her hands down the marks she’d left in the throes of orgasm.
“Fuck,” he whispered into her sweaty neck. “It’s never been like this.”
A part of him recoiled at the all too honest admission. Making love to Shannon had been special and perfect. Fucking her had been tense and passionate. Jenny wasn’t Shannon he not only wasn’t expecting her to be, he didn’t want her to be. He was glad she was just who she was. His arms went tightly around her as he shifted himself, not yet pulling out, wanting to keep her close and wrapped in him.
“For me either,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his cheek. He groaned and kissed her softly, letting it build but not expecting anything. They were both exhausted.
Slowly he rolled them, wincing as he slipped free of her body, and she adjusted herself, relaxing against his chest. Whispered words of love threatened to pass his lips, but he knew they were brought about from the euphoria of the moment, not the reality of their relationship. But he could love her. This much he knew.
“When did you lose your virginity?” He asked, teasing lightly, running his fingers through her sweaty hair. He wanted to talk about more than the case and wanted to do more than have sex. He wanted to know her.
“Hmmm. Three days shy of my sixteenth birthday,” she grinned into his chest. Her teeth nipped at his nipple and he groaned. “In the bed of Mike Hales’ truck, out by the river, with Cashmere playing in the background.” Another nip. Another groan. “My parents thought I was at a girlfriend’s house.”
“Hmmm,” Jethro moaned. He could see a young, fearless Jenny, sneaking out of her parent’s house, racing out into the night with a boy he was sure her father wouldn’t have approved of. “You at sixteen. I’d have liked to see that.”
“You’re a dirty old man.”
“Not that much older than you.”
She chuckled and nipped him again. “Quid pro quo.”
He sighed. “I was seventeen,” he admitted. “She didn’t mean as much to me as she should have.”
“You were seventeen,” she repeated. “No girl meant what she should have.”
“You have a point.” And he sighed, glad he’d avoided the Shannon question. Glad for the first time in his life that he hadn’t lost his virginity to her because he wouldn’t have been able to keep that part of his life from Jenny and he didn’t want her to know. She wasn’t a replacement. She didn’t fill the void. She was just Jenny and that was what mattered.
Maybe someday. When they were done with Europe. When they were more than agents. Someday he’d take her to the house in DC and open the door to the room that held Shannon and Kelly’s things and tell her everything. Right now, he just wanted to be with her and focus on her.
Jenny lifted her head for a kiss. Jethro pressed his lips to hers and pushed away the ghosts.
He’d rolled them again, moving the sheets out of the way, when there was a quick rap against the door. “Jethro?” Ducky sounded uncomfortable. “I hate to bother you, but we need to talk.”
He groaned and pulled back. “Give me a second, Duck.”
Jenny sighed and sat up. She ran her hands over her hair, but it was useless. They were both a mess. With an exaggerated huff, she stood up and reached for her robe. It was Ducky, he wouldn’t care about seeing them in any kind of state of undress but Jethro pulled on his boxers and Jeans, knowing, somehow, they were headed out. When Jenny was at least covered (if that slip of a robe could be considered covered), he opened the door and let the doctor in.
The older man smirked at them. “Hmm. Young love.”
“What do you need, Duck?” He knew he sounded short, but he wasn’t a fan of being interrupted. Jenny looked equally frustrated. Ducky looked smug.
“One of our marks has turned up dead of his own accord. NCIS and M-5 wants us to investigate before the locals get a hold of things. So, we need to leave now.”
Jethro groaned. Really, given what he’d just been doing to Jenny, he needed a shower. “Give me five minutes.” He looked at Jenny, who was suddenly the picture of professionalism, even sitting there in the rose colored robe he’d bought for her earlier. “You get ready to go and back us up. Get on the channel and be ready to roll with Decker.”
“No problem.”
“All right,” Jethro got to his feet, “I’ll be ready in five.” Ducky left them alone and Jethro moved to the bathroom. “Come on, Jen,” he teased.
“No. You’ve got to be ready in five. I’ll slow you down, you know I will.”
He chuckled and nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Anyway, I have to brush my hair out before I ever get in the shower.” She moved to the dresser and retrieved a brush. Jethro watched her for a moment, his heart warring with his professional side. But the professional side won out and he headed into the bathroom to make himself presentable.
TBC …