Title: Our Song

Rating: K

Disclaimer: If I owned them Jenny would be alive and a Great White Shark would have eaten Hollis.

Spoilers: Nothings Huge

Summary: Jenny tries to find the perfect song.

Note: This story is best read with Taylor Swift "Our Song" playing on repeat in the background.

for Alexa.

Love is a friendship set to music.

E. Joseph Cossman

The country music caught her attention first, followed by the young feminine voice, and the lyrics caused her to turn physically and stare at the radio on the shelf. She listened quietly as the song went through the first verse as she felt herself being transported to an empty road, a Ferrari and a man whom she knew was more than just a passing fancy.

Jenny Shepard was not a woman often accused of day dreaming but she figured with no one but herself in the house it wasn't a crime if she decided that replaying memories of a not so distant past was more important than her reports. So she settled in her chair after finding the music on her computer and hit repeat and turned to her bourbon smiling.

The road was empty, the wind was brisk, the sun warm upon her face. She'd decided to forgo the scarf wanting the freedom the wind let her hair have. Her companion laughed beside her as she continually tried to brush the hair out of her face. The radio was playing some Italian music but she turned it down and he looked over at her laughing.

"What's wrong Jen, getting sick of Italy?"

"Hardly!" She countered smiling just as widely but it faded for a second. He tightened his grip on her hand. "I was just thinking, we don't really have a song," she said shyly, it was purely sentimental and romantic and she hardly needed it.

"Ha, yes we do," he replied. She looked at him suspiciously. "Well, you need a beat to have a song right?" She nodded. "So the slam of doors is the drum and the tap on doors to get back in, and the woodwinds is the way you breathe when you're sleeping, and..." he paused trying to think of more, steadfastly ignoring her surprised look. "When you talk real slow because Ducky is clueless, the breaks in the music are all those times I should have kissed you in DC...and the strings is your laughter, so we do have a song its just not a usual one."

"That has to be the sweetest thing ever," she laughed.

"Yea...don't get used to it," he sounded mildly offended that he had even said it. When they pulled into their destination he got out of the car and went to help her out. "You know what the best part is?"


"We can play it whenever we want," he kissed her gently. Later that night as she lay beside him, with his soft breathing teasing her hair she smiled.

"I think it's my favorite song," she whispered kissing his chest before settling back into sleep.

Her eyes were suspiciously wet when the song ended and she sighed loudly. Damn song, she was not weepy and she was not pinning over what she lost no matter what her traitorous heart decided to say. She was close to declaring her mind a traitor as well as it seemed quite content to let her memories replay themselves in her head. She listened to the song again and again as memories continued to assault her and leave her vulnerable. She finally found what she thought would be peace when she fell into sleep her eye using the reports on her desk as a pillow. Unfortunately her dreams held no release, as the song was so engraved into her.

She was pissed off. No, pissed off was an understatement; she was livid, furious, homicidal. Oh homicidal definitely, she thought. It wasn't fair, just because she was a woman did not mean she was only good for one thing. There were two things she hated about being undercover, she was too quickly growing accustomed to it and she couldn't shoot the targets when they told her to fetch a drink or some other 'woman-task.' And Gibbs hadn't been much help, simply holding her back and telling her to calm down. She'd show him calm. We'll see how much he likes the couch, she decided before quickly rescinding that. No matter how pissed she was, she was not letting him sleep on the couch. She'd miss his warmth too much, and that only served to irritate her further. She let the door to the apartment they were staying in slam shut and stormed past the common room to the bathroom. She stopped midway when her peripheral vision caught something.

She should have cleared the apartment first, she knew that, but she hoped to God it was just her imagination. She slipped closer to the door her hand grasping her gun lightly hoping she wasn't about to pull a gun on her lover. On second thought he would deserve it. She cleared the room and felt her breath catch. On every flat surface was a bouquet of orchids, and not just any orchids, but her favorite ones. The most prominent display had a card next to it and she picked up the card suspiciously for a second before recognizing the handwriting.

Our song is the slam of the doors and taps to get back in...

And the way you talk slow when Ducky doesn't know...

Our song is your breath when we're sleeping...

And your laughter when we're awake...

Our song is the times I should've kissed you...


She would have cried, but that had to be the most romantic thing he had ever done for her and he'd really surprised her with his romantic ideas. She darted into the bedroom looking for her newest item that she'd bought as a present for him. She slipped it on and slipped on her trench coat buttoning it up around the see through material. She slipped on her heels and ran to the door making it only as far as the elevator before he'd gotten off drenched from the rain and looking rather nervous.

"Jethro!" She ran full tilt colliding into him trusting him to keep them on their feet and he did barely. He was a little surprised by the reaction and even more surprised when she kissed him in a way that she only ever did when they were tangled in the sheets. "I loved them."

When Leroy Jethro Gibbs got the bright idea to drop in uninvited on the Director of NCIS, hoping his former partner wouldn't be in too bad a mood as to deny him a drink, he hadn't been expecting to have to break into her house. The light on in the back had told him she was home, most likely killing her eyes reading reports in her study, but when she didn't answer the door, nor the phone, he panicked. He would not admit to panicking of course, Jenny was a very capable agent, but if someone had broken into her house and drugged her or worse, she wouldn't be putting up much fight and he would kill whom ever laid a hand on her. He picked the lock on her front door thanking God when the alarm didn't sound and entered the house. He walked through the front not hearing anything except this cute country song that sounded a little to young for Jenny to be listening to. He paused in the doorway finding her with her head on top of her desk. She looked exhausted to him and he felt slightly bad for pissing her off as much as he had lately.

"Jethro," she murmured. His ears perked up at his name and his curiosity went off the charts. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face he certainly hoped it was good dream.

"Jenny," he called gently.

"I loved them," she said just as quietly. Now he was confused, what did she love?


"The flowers, they're beautiful," she sighed turning her head sleepily. He wasn't sure what she was talking about but figured in good conscious he should move her to at least her couch.

"Okay Jenny, I'll get you some more," he assured reaching down to move her.

"Five more minutes..."

"You can sleep for the rest of the night, Jenny," he said picking her up carefully and depositing her gently onto her couch. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Uh huh, okay," she yawned curling up under the blanket. He shut off the music, set the alarm system, and locked the door on his way out. She blinked her eyes as the door shut and snuggled just a little deeper into the blankets. She'd woken up when he tried to pick her up and she'd faked sleep curious as to how he'd gotten in and what he'd wanted. It was sweet really, but she waited ten minutes before turning back on the music and going through her collections trying to find another song that had made her feel this happy. She listened till five the next morning and found not a one.

To her great surprise, Gibbs did not let on that he'd been in her house the night before. Nor did he mention anything regarding it, or give her looks that could be interpreted. If anything, he seemed to avoid her, and she wondered if that had something to do with the rose bouquet that had arrived before she'd gotten in. She knew for sure it wasn't from him, she was allergic to roses and he had learned that the hard way. To be fair to him, she didn't know who her secret admirer was either, but obviously it couldn't be anyone she had had a relationship with in the past. Course, the might require the definition of a relationship, because since…he who shall not be named, she thought, there hasn't exactly been a deep 'meaningful' relationship. She sighed poking her pen through the bouquet again trying to knock out a card.

She had started to sneeze almost immediately after entering her office and Cynthia had rushed off to find tissues before relocating the vase. It had resulted in Jenny hiding out in MTAC until she legitimately had to do paperwork. Cynthia was running errands in the building and had not moved the flowers yet. Serves me right, she thought starting at the new torture device. She sneezed again and turned on her computer, locating the country song from the previous night to listen too. The first chords had just started when the door to her office was thrown open.

"Jethro!" she snapped, attempting to glare. The cute red nose and her puffy eyes lost it, a little too adorable for that one to work Jen, Gibbs thought amused. Apparently his humor was not as masked as he thought. "Don't you laugh at me Leroy Jethro Gibbs! I blame you for this."

"What?" He questioned glancing over at her curiously, he'd learned his lesson about the roses and when exactly and he bought her flowers lately?

"You're trying to kill me," she sniffled grabbing another tissue.

"Tempting thought," he sighed thinking about the reporter that would probably tattle on him in the near future, if she's out she can't hear about it and I don't get chained to the desk. She had warned him about his punishment if he messed around with the press again, and he had no doubt she would make good on her word. Though she didn't specify her location after she tied him up. Again a smile drifted to his face.

"Shut up," she mumbled sneezing again.

"Bless you," he said gently. "Why haven't you ditched the assassination attempt?" He inquired gesturing to the flowers.

"Yea…remember the last time I tried to do that." Oh he did. The hives, the lotion, the massages…the after massages. "Mind out of the bedroom," she grumbled. He moved toward the bouquet and picked them up and walked out of her office. Cynthia was just returning to her desk.

"Cynthia the Director wants these disposed off," Gibbs informed her. The young woman glared suspiciously at the pain in the ass agent before glancing in the office and watching Jenny nod slightly.

"Of course Director," she said trying to be cheerful. "Security is trying to find out who delivered them, although Agent DiNozzo has taken an interest in this as well."

"GIBBS!" Came the half threat, half sneeze from the redhead upon hearing that. Gibbs sighed glancing once at Cynthia who walked off with the flowers before glancing in at Jenny again.

"Just a sec Jen," he said before turning back to the catwalk, he leaned over the railing spotting his team huddling around McGee's desk, McGee looking guilty, Tony looking excited, Ziva glancing around, and Abby giggling. "DINOZZO!"

"Boss!" The younger man jumped and looked around before glancing up.

"Take the day, same for the rest of you," Gibbs ordered.

"We can go?" Ziva inquired curiously.

"Want me to change my mind?"

"NO!" DiNozzo assured running to his desk to get his stuff, the rest of the team in record timing followed him. Gibbs turned back to the Director's office to find she had moved to her couch, her heels kicked off, arm over her face, and her feet over the other edge. She must've heard him close the door as she spoke.

"Cynthia I don't want to be disturbed."

"Well, I'll be sure to pass that along to her," Gibbs said, sitting on the coffee table next to the couch. "How miserable are you?"

"Oh shut it."

"Come on Jen, you should go home."


"I could always get Tony to find out whom the flowers are from," he tried. She barely moved her head up to glare at him.

"You won't, because he'll use it to win a bet." There was that, he lamented. She shifted and groaned before sneezing again.

"If you go home Cynthia can have your office sanitized," he suggested. She sighed, but it came out raspy.

"Fine." She tried to sit up and placed her head back down. "Or not." He moved closer to her, putting his arm under her back and helping her sit up.

"Come on, I'll take you home." She stood with his help and they slowly made their way to his car. He helped her sit in the passenger seat before getting and starting. "You want some allergy meds?"

"Have some at home," she sniffled, leaning her head against the cool glass window. They made it to her house and he helped her out and went in, following her back to the study. She made to pour some bourbon and he gently moved her out of the way and did it himself. She flopped down into the large chair that sat there usually unused and gratefully accepted the glass. He was about to speak when his phone rang.

"Yea Gibbs…Deal with it DiNozzo. Do NOT let Ziva kill him…I'll do it," he hung up and turned wondering if Jenny had been paying attention.

"You better not have just threatened to kill a reporter," She chided.

"Senator, actually. One who apparently can't take a hint," he stated.

"You found my wannabe assassin?"

"You knew it was the Senator?" He turned it on her.

"Greatly suspected, he likes to give flashy presents supposedly because he 'cares' but ultimately because he wants something." She put the cares in air quotes. "Doesn't quite understand the idea the giving simply because you think they'll like it idea. Nor does he quite grasp the concept of caring." He imagined, that if her head weren't so stuffed, he wouldn't be hearing this.

"I gave your presents and got something in return," he teased watching to see if he stepped over that invisible line.

"Only because I really liked them," she answered with her eyes closed, head tilted back. Nah…just toed it.

"So not counting the senator who was the last man to give you flowers?" He inquired teasingly. He was surprised that she looked hurt, before confused one eye arching in question.


"You must get lots of little presents a lot from your suitors." He decided that was not so teasing and sounded rather jealous, he would've head slapped himself if she wasn't there.


"So then who was the last one?" He pushed. Both eyes turned a fierce emerald.

"You." He looked slightly surprised and considered it might be in reference to the orchids that appeared after he came back from Mexico. Own up to them or not?

"Not counting those."

"You." She repeated. Now he knew the look of surprise was displayed. Seriously? That was six years ago…Probably more than that, not one of those miserable bastards ever bothered to give her flowers? "Not everyone jumps back in the game," she sniped. Score one for Jen, do not bring up her leaving…do not…don't do it Jethro, It's a bad idea.

"Well…" he bit his tongue, no, he wouldn't say that. She didn't deserve that, well maybe she did, but not when she was feeling miserable.

"Shouldn't you be going home," she announced. He glanced at the clock, it was early, but still.

"I'll go pick up some Chinese take out and then you can eat something," he said reaching for his coat and moving toward the door. She watched him go and promptly moved to the couch, curling up under the blanket with the bourbon nearby. He better not show back up.

He did of course. That was after she had gone through her safe locating the piece of paper that had come with orchids so many years ago and moved all the pictures to her desk. Damnit. She heard him at the door and glanced around the room before picking the whole lot up and shoving it under the couch cushions. She lay back down threw the blanket over her and put her head on the pillow, closing her eyes just as he moved into the entryway. She cracked one eye open and to her surprise found him moving not just a bag of Chinese takeout, but a bouquet of orchids. He shuffled around her desk trying to put the vase down without spilling it over her stuff. He succeeded and turned back to the Chinese when an innocent white piece of paper caught his eye.

Our song is the slam of the doors and taps to get back in...

And the way you talk slow when Ducky doesn't know...

Our song is your breath when we're sleeping...

And your laughter when we're awake...

Our song is the times I should've kissed you...


She cursed under her breath as she watched him hold the paper reverently, starring at it in surprise and what she thought might be some affection…affection that was a bit stronger and a four letter word beginning with L, but she wasn't going to admit that. His phone rang again and he cursed before answering quietly.


"Ah Jethro, I heard our lovely Director has some bad allergies, are you with her?"

"Why would I be with her?" He asked slowly and quietly.

"Really Jethro, this is getting old. Just bring her some flowers or something."

There was a dial tone, followed by Gibbs snapping the phone shut. Jenny lay perfectly still, contemplating what was occurring. She hadn't realized that the song worked in reverse. The slamming of doors was obvious, but he too talked slowly with Ducky, especially when they hadn't wanted the good doctor to know, when he slept his breath and heartbeat had calmed her, his laughter, when it occurred could make her smile, and that list of times she should've kissed seemed to get longer by the day.

"Jen…Jenny," he called gently.


"Brought you something," he told her helping her sit up. She saw the flowers and acted surprised.

"Beautiful, thank you Jethro." He nodded starring at her for a long moment.

"Brought some food too," he said with a shrug of his shoulders as she moved closer to the coffee table. He set out the containers placing the soup in front of her. She ate slowly watching him watch her. "Stopped by last night," he started off conversationally.

"Did you?"

"You must have been out."

"Or asleep."

"Or entertaining. Heard music."

"Oh, no it was just me, I feel asleep with the radio on, somehow moved to the couch."

"Cute song, who's it by?"
"I have no idea, someone new and popular, I've heard the song on multiple stations since," she answered. "It's sweet." She stood and moved to her computer, hitting play and the upbeat music filled the room. She listened, and Gibbs watched as a half smile tugged at her lips.

"Guess it's not about you," he said after a minute, she glanced over. "The roses, should be orchids," he said. She chuckled lightly, nodding her head. Subtly she tried to grab the old piece of paper, but he was used to watching her and noticed. He stood and moved next to her catching her hand before she could hide the note. He gently pried it out of her fingers and glanced at her to find she had diverted her eyes away from him starring at invisible mark on the desk. "You ever found another song you liked as much?"

"No," she answered honestly. He nodded, his hand slipping from her cheek to her neck, one of hers covering it gently. He leaned down watching her eyes carefully, she nodded fractionally and he let his lips meet hers. It started gently, softly, two lovers meeting and then it exploded in colors and neither cared about trivially thing like oxygen. "Do I have to ask God to do that again?" Came his quiet voice after they finally broke apart.

"Nope," She answered pulling his head down to meet hers. A fraction before she grazed his lips again she whispered gently, "I love our song."