Inspired by the video "Do You Remember?"- A Jibbs video on . It's not really related, but that's where I got the inspiration. I don't own the show, and I didn't create the video… I'm just a huge fan! This is my first NCIS fic.

Slight rating for slight language.



Ignoring the fact that she'd broken his heart, he had been seeing someone else and she was his boss, what would a relationship have been like? Really?

If they were to throw the inhibitions out the window, and really there weren't many to throw anyway, what they be like together? They knew what would be gained- they'd had it once, many moons ago.

But what would be lost?

Would they banter the same, tease the same, flirt the same? Or would it become more sterile, the need to keep things 'professional' overriding the need to have a laugh?

Would they be more tender? Perhaps.

Their relationship was good now, sweet and fun and just a little bit sad. She loved him, that she was sure, and she was pretty certain he felt the same. Saying "No" when she had just stepped back into his life had been hard, but that look, the fleeting look of sadness had told her that underneath the light-hearted offer there had been something else- hope.

He was hoping she would say yes, which surprised her. She had left him, called them off, put on the brakes before they'd really even started.

She'd hurt him. She didn't deserve his love after all these years. She didn't know why he felt the same, and she certainly didn't know why her own stomach had done back flips. Back flips, not knots. It wasn't guilt, it was that funny feeling inside when the cute boy looked at you… because the boy was looking at her like he wanted to kiss her senseless, and she knew how that felt.

She was grateful that he still wanted her- but she was also relieved. After all these years she wasn't the only one who still thought about them. She knew that, if someone looked at the right time, at just the right moment, they would see her looking at him with love, a small smile on her face.

And he did the same, she knew. She could always feel his eyes on her, and sometimes she even caught him out. But they only ever shared a look- never words.

She loved him, no doubt.

Would they change if she told him that?

Now she thought about it, probably not. They already shared looks that said "I'm annoyed", "I'm amused", "I'm picturing you naked". That certainly wouldn't change. And he had risked his life to save her, again, by sitting in the boot of a car, so that wouldn't change either.

And he was the only one who knew her different types of angry. There was the "I'm angry, but I need to talk to you"- most people stayed away with that one, mistaking it for "I want to be left alone". Not him- he sat with her until she spilled her guts.

Then there was the "I'm so angry I could cry", and he always pulled her into a hug so she could do just that. Nobody except Abby hugged her without asking first.

And then there was the infamous "Don't come near me" angry. Everyone assumed that this type was the talking one, and they tried to get her to talk until she snapped and they got the hint. He was nowhere to be found with this one. Then, just as it was easing into the talking angry, he showed up. Right on time, without fail. He'd just show up and stay quiet until she was calm enough to spill it. Nobody knew her that well- nobody.

He didn't run for the hills when her job was brought into the conversation like most guys she knew. And he cared about her enough to fight with her when she was in a bad mood, and smile when she stormed off in a huff. Then he'd show up in her study, pour himself a bourbon and sit in the chair opposite her as a way of showing her she was forgiven for yelling in the elevator. He actually liked it when she was a smart-ass, and talked back and showed her backbone. She could show her humour with him- laugh, back-chat, quip. He never took it the wrong way- he never took it personal if the barb was directed at him.

And that was the thing. She was in love with a man who knew her better than she knew herself. He knew just what to say before she even realised she wanted him to say it.

And that scared her. Ignoring the fact that they had one hell of a past, that fact alone scared her into running the other way. Or at least being super scared.

Which counted, because the thing that would change would be the kind of love. They weren't the people from years ago… they had both experienced more now- they had both loved and lost.

And they weren't in Paris. That was the big one.

It's not just that it's the City of Love that sweeps you off your feet… it's that they couldn't afford to pretend that they were the young lovers that was their cover. They were in the real world now. Could they be those people in the real world?

Were they even those people in the first place?

She knew the answer to that one- she knew him just as well as he knew her. She knew his pissed, his hurting, his guilty and his contented. She used to know his happy, and his playful. Maybe they hadn't changed so much.

At the end of the day, they were meant for each other. All the boxes ticked when you looked at the cold hard facts.

She loved him then and she loved him now, and something about the way he looked at her told her he felt the same.

Screw the fear. The fear didn't deserve to win. If she told him… they would both be thinking of Paris…

She wanted more than just Paris.


I know- aweful. Should I continue?

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