Disclaimer: See first part.
A/N: This is the last drabble in the set, and I thank you for reading. I think this is the only slightly humourous fic I've ever written!
Stop staring at me. It's not like I've got horns growing out of my head, or suddenly developed a tail. There's a hundred things more exciting than me in this room. The lampshade, the window, the red wine stain in the corner of the room where Tony surprised me with his tongue in my…the couch.
I guess I can handle all the stares. Eventually they'll give up. I hope. Even Gibbs is staring at me. Or perhaps Gibbs in particular is staring at me. It's that faint prickling at the back of my neck that tells me. It's not as comforting now as it used to be.
They're still staring. I'm going to kill Tony for this. He should have been here hours ago. Well, ok, thirty minutes ago, but really, how long does it take to buy a few bags of ice? I said he shouldn't take Abby with him. They've probably been arrested and are trying to explain that NCIS is a real agency.
Maybe if I start handing out some food they'll have something else to focus their attentions on. Okay, that didn't work, now even the ones that had finally looked away to talk are looking at me again. Smile Jenny; they're your friends. I need a drink.
Actually, I don't think we need any ice at all. Why did I let him leave the house? What was I thinking? Oh yes, how cute he looked in those black slacks and the blue jumper I bought him for his birthday. Do I have time to think about that birthday? Would any of them notice if I left the room for a moment to think back. Probably. I guess I'll just have to request a replay tonight.
Perhaps they're staring because it's unusual to have a party on Labour Day. I've never been to one before now. Surely though, they can't be so surprised that I invited them all to my house for the evening? Have none of them been here before? Gibbs has, Ziva, actually I guess that really is it. Well, they'll have to get used to it, because I'm sure Tony won't want this to be a one time thing, and if Timothy is going to come by weekly for his "I'm going to teach you to appreciate good films if it kills me Probie" movie night, I don't want him spending the whole time sitting like stone on my couch and staring at me.
Was that the door? Oh thank God they're back, I'm about ready to leave them all and run for Headquarters. I wonder if I look as angry as I feel. I know I'm glaring at their hands. Their empty hands. Where's the ice? One job, they had one job and they messed it all up. I should have gone instead, left him to deal with the looks.
Damn. I hate when he pulls that face, the pout, the big wide eyes. Try to stay angry Jen. Try to…no, it's no use and I really don't think that light slap on his arm has affected him in any negative way, because he's smiling and wrapping his arms around me from behind. I must admit that it's nice not to have to hide anymore. That we can be as demonstrative as we want. Well, as long as Jethro isn't in the room, I'm sure Tony thinks of him as a father, it's creepy sometimes. And then sometimes it's funny to see him jump away from me with a guilty expression whenever Jethro coughs. I'll have to break him out of that habit soon.
Something just flashed as I brought my hands up to rest on his. It wasn't a camera, but seemed to come off of my hand. Oh yes. I supposed that could be why they're all staring at me. I can't really fault them for that, after all, I haven't stopped looking at the ring for two days.
Thank you, and goodnight. ;)
Hope you enjoyed, and I'd really like to hear from you!