A/N: A little fourth of July treat:]

His first indication that this was going to be a fourth to remember was the sleek, pristine royal blue stiletto strewn casually on the floor in the entrance to his home, not-so-subtly accompanied by a lacy bra of almost exact matching blue.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs nudged his front door shut behind him more roughly than usual and tossed his car keys to the floor, cocking his eyebrow at the strategically placed items on his carpet. Another loud, sizzling pop sounded off from outside, followed by a succession of cracks and he smirked, sidestepping the stiletto and lingerie.

To his increasing pleasure, the stiletto's mate waited for him at the very top of his basement stairs. He picked it up with interest, hooking a strap around his index finger and holding it up as he flipped on the basement light and went down the stairs, he stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the landing.

He'd been expecting her when he saw the heels, been slightly intrigued when he saw the bra, but this?

This was too good to be true.

In any marine's ultimate patriotic fantasy, her crimson hair mussed and tumbling over her back and shoulders, blue star earrings secured in her ears, a flush of deep red lipstick on her sensually pouted mouth, and a dizzying amount of her cream-white skin visible, there she sat on a stool in his basement with a tumbler of bourbon in her petite hand, wrapped in the Stars and Stripes.

It was minutes before he recovered enough to form words.

"You'd better be naked under there," he growled hoarsely, tossing her stiletto against his boat carelessly and approaching her with a predatory glint in his eye.

Her only response was to arch an eyebrow beautifully and lift her free arm to show him the panties that matched the royal blue lace lingerie. She dropped them to the floor in front of her and took a slow sip of her bourbon, the heavy material of the American flag falling dangerously low as she moved her arm and exposing the swell of her breasts.

"I thought we could go see the fireworks," she said casually, licking her lips wantonly and setting the tumbler down casually next to her on the wooden work shelf, her fingers sliding off of it to play with something beyond his line of vision.

Jenny flicked her eyes back to him, looking at him wickedly through her eyelashes.

"Or we could make our own," she suggested silkily, inclining her head.

With a mischievous smirk, she let the flag fall teasingly again and held it lightly with her arm as she picked up the object he couldn't see and deftly struck a match, touching the flame to the end of a thin rod that promptly burst into colored sparks of light.

Miraculously, for once in his life, Jethro wasn't concerned for the welfare of his boat even though the crackling sparkler posed considerable threat to the flammable wood. His eyes were drawn to the fiery glow the sparkler cast on her, giving the illusion that her skin was sprinkled in gold dust.

Jenny flicked the sparkler at him, shaking sparks and ash onto the floor beneath his feet, twitching it back towards her to beckon him forward. He came willingly, resting his hands on her bare knees and drawing them apart slightly, his gaze lingering on the red, white, and blue material hiked up on her thighs and bunched between her legs.

She drew her bottom lip into her teeth and bit down, her green eyes bright and taunting and dancing with the popping light of the sparkler. As it died down, she recklessly dropped the sparkler on the shelf where it cracked loudly and fizzed out, glowing sparkles smoldering on the wood threateningly, much like Jethro's cobalt eyes.

He ran his hands up her thighs until his fingertips hit the edge of the flag, one finger running over the emblazoned white stars on a blue field.

"God bless America," he muttered, smirking arrogantly at his own joke as she shifted towards his hand and drew in her breath sharply. He drew his eyes slowly up her scantily clad body, sure he'd never fly the American flag the same way again.

Jenny smirked at him, wrapping a leg around his and tugging him closer. She reached for his pants and pulled him at the belt loops, looking up at him flirtatiously as she slipped a hand under his waistband and untucked his shirt. The flag slipped and she pulled him tighter, preventing him from sneaking a peak.

"My country tis of thee, sweet land of liberty…" she sang breathily in his ear, snickering teasingly.

He let her remove his shirt and rake her nails lightly down his chest until she reached his jeans again. He stroked his fingers up the inside of her thigh under the teasing flag. She closed her eyes briefly and he was floored to find such unbridled lust in her emerald orbs when she opened them back up.

"Feeling a little patriotic this year, Jen?" he asked mildly, brushing his lips against her jaw. He moved a finger inside her and she gasped, her breath hitching in her throat. Her lips parted and she turned her mouth against his ear, working the button on his jeans undone.

"Just giving my marine the recognition he deserves," she answered huskily, pushing his jeans down, boxers and all.

"Semper fi," Jethro growled in her ear, covering her mouth with his forcefully. He pushed her just far enough to leave her aching and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her escalating moans muffled in his kiss.

He picked her up and kicked the stool violently out of the way, lifting her onto the counter behind her. He pulled his hand back and she gasped in protest, her shoulders trembling slightly. Jethro impatiently moved the hindering material of the flag out of his way and thrust into her.

Jenny gripped his shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his skin. She cried his name as he thrust again, heat coiling in the pit of her stomach, forced to prove him right in his conjecture that she never could pace herself.

His hands bruised her thighs where he held her, riding out her climax until he groaned her name and shuddered with his own, reaching up to tangle his hands in her damp red hair. He gave it one last hard thrust and let his forehead fall to her shoulder, drawing ragged breaths against her neck.

Jenny moaned incoherently and trembled, resting her head on his shoulder and holding onto his biceps. Her heart beat against him feverishly, spurring him to vaguely realize she was still half-wrapped in Old Glory.

Jethro tugged her hair gently and she lifted her head, leaning back at his touch and tilting her head fetchingly. She held the corner of the flag between her teeth, lifting an eyebrow and snickering sinfully.

He had a feeling he'd be seeing stars and stripes in his dreams for days.

Jenny let the representation of Liberty and Independence, the American Flag in all its prestige, fall from her vixen mouth and settle on her thighs, exposing her fair skin to him spectacularly.

She smirked, and purred:

"Let Freedom ring,"

Happy Independence Day!