Lose Yourself with Me by DD Agent
I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at CBS.
This was from my Halloween Prompt Post and vegawriters: "Jenny and Gibbs. You pick the timeframe. But it must include a Halloween party OR a spooky case and some kind of bedroom scene that could possibly involve slutty costumes. ;)" I think it satisfies all criteria and is freaking awesome in the bargain.
Part two will be up momentarily. Enjoy! :D
"You know its Halloween, right?"
Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked up from the file he was examining and turned to his partner. Jenny Shepard was standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She was wearing basic slacks and a shirt, but the way Jenny wore clothes seemed more sexualised than normal people. Her clothes seemed to mould to her body, so every time she moved Jethro watched the fabric shimmer over her taut skin.
"You know, Shepard, I am actually capable of knowing the date. Can tell time too."
They'd only been in Paris for two months, having started their working relationship in Marseille. Two NCIS Agents sent to survey a Lebanese trawler in the hope that they'd get to know each other well enough to work the op they were currently living in the French capital. A linguist with military connections and a former sniper who couldn't keep a partner: quite a pair. On that second night in Marseille they'd gone to bed together. Something to ease the boredom, something to relieve the tension.
They hadn't stopped sleeping together, and now…feelings were starting to get involved.
"We're in Paris. On Halloween. You know what that means, Jethro, don't you?"
He still called her Shepard, only called her Jenny when she was injured or they were in bed. But he didn't dare stop her calling him 'Jethro'. The way it rolled off her tongue made him want her even more.
"No, what does that mean?"
Jenny dropped two blood red wristbands onto the files he was examining. She was watching him with a grin, and Jethro couldn't help but grow worried. Working with Jenny was a rollercoaster - you had to keep up with her as she could play by the rules and then go off at a moment's notice. Paris was her playground, and he was always trying to keep up with her.
"There's a party tonight in the Paris Catacombs. Wristband entry only."
Jethro sighed. "Not my sort of thing, Shepard. I'm sure you could find some young Parisian to entertain you for the evening."
He tried not to notice the recoil in her eyes at such a vicious rebuttal of her idea. But he needed to keep her at arm's length. They were playing a couple in Paris, the sex was expected. But emotions other than the mentor/mentee relationship they had were not welcome. He couldn't fall in love with Jenny. Even though it was so easy to - her light humour, her charming smile, the way she could soothe him after nightmares.
"It's not just some silly little teenage rave in Paris, Jethro. This is a hard core Halloween party, run by the most powerful men in the city. The cops are all paid off; no one will shut this down." Jenny pressed her hand on the photograph of the arms dealer that had been most elusive so far. "He'll be there."
Jethro looked at the photograph, and then at the blood red band. "There a dress code to this thing, Shepard?"
Her smile was infectious, and she pressed her lips to his automatically. It was the first time they had ever kissed that hadn't resulted in sex. It was a moment of pure joy, and Jethro couldn't get over how wonderful it felt to have her lips rest against his; how her smile felt pulling against his own.
"Dark coat and full suit. You'll be frisked for guns, so take a knife. I'll be trying to find a place to put one." Jenny pushed herself up off of the floor. "We'll be leaving in two hours!"
Jethro lay down on the floor amongst the photographs of the brutal. He believed it was too late for him, as he fingered one of the red bands. She was fast becoming the only thing he cared about.
They were walking through Paris to get to the catacombs. The city seemed cold that evening, and so was Jenny as they walked to the party. Jethro looked handsome in a dark suit, the tie loose around his neck. The long coat would be lost by the end of the evening; the catacombs would be warmed by the bright lights on display for the rave and by the end no one cared about clothing anyway. She just hoped that Jethro would lend her something to wear when they got out of the party.
One of her few regrets in life was never going to the catacombs as a teenager. Hell not living in Parisas a teenager was something she regretted. She missed the city so much - the energy, the culture. The way you could get lost in it. This was going to be a night she and Jethro would remember for years, she was sure of it.
She was definitely sure she would remember it. She planned to tell him she loved him tonight.
Jenny Shepard had never really been in love before, not truly. Not like how she felt about Jethro. She knew he felt off about the age gap, but she couldn't imagine anyone she wanted to be with more than Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The times when they weren't pretending, when they were just themselves, Jenny had never felt such adoration from him, and such love from her own heart.
"Six million dead bodies in catacombs that stretch the city…not a big fan of this idea, Jen."
She turned around at his words, her hands reaching for his. "You called me 'Jen'."
Jethro smiled and leaned down to brush his lips over hers. "Yeah, I did. Got a problem with that?"
Her hand reached up to pull Jethro's head to hers for a full on kiss. Her head tilted as his tongue entered her mouth, slowly touching every nerve. His grip on her body grew stronger, firmer as he leaned closer into the kiss. Jenny moaned under his touch, enjoying the way he reacted to her.
"Don't lose me, promise?"
Jethro grabbed her hand and pressed his mouth to the inside of her wrist. "I promise."
With a smile, Jenny walked forward in high heels towards the catacombs. After showing their bands, the pair was led straight down into the darkness, where Gibbs discovered the bands glowed in the dark. They continued down into the caverns filled with the bodies of the dead until they got to the main pit where the party was being held.
Jethro pulled off his coat, his gun hidden deftly away. There was no way he was just bringing a knifeto this party. Jenny unbuttoned her long coat and peeled it off her shoulders, revealing her dangerous outfit for the night. A mint green bra and panties set, covered by an almost nonexistent white lace camisole. Jethro couldn't keep his eyes off of her as Jenny handed the man her coat and dragged Jethro into the party.
The music was loud, pulsing. The lights were hot, and Jethro could see a fine sheen of sweat forming on Jenny's skin. She grabbed him by the tie and started dancing in front of him. The large lights highlighted the skulls that were all around them. A city of the dead.
"This is fucked up."
Jenny moved in closer to him, throwing her arms around his neck. "This is Halloween, Jethro. Doesn't get more fucked up than that."
This was a different Jenny then the one he saw working. This was the loose one, the one she was when they were alone. The one that had grown up in Paris, that had run away from home, that had left law school to start working in politics because she could bullshit better than anyone else. This was the woman he was falling in love with.
As Jenny leaned back and ground her body against him, Jethro tried to get his bearings. His hands were tight on her waist as he moved with her, his fingers digging into her hips. There was no way in hellhe was leaving her in this godforsaken hellhole.
The catacombs needed no decoration for Halloween, but he was sure there were fake cobwebs up over some sections. There was ice buckets filled with vodka dotted around the floor, and both men and women were hoisted up onto crosses pressed against the skulls as morbid party pieces. Most of the women on the floor were in lingerie like Jenny. The rich and powerful men were with their concubines, grinding on the floor. Some of the men were soaked in vodka and down to their boxer shorts. He could see several couples going off to have sex in the catacombs, bare flesh pressing against decaying bone.
He felt sick.
"Target is sitting in the VIP area at the back. His two girls are topless," Jenny whispered in his ear before biting the lobe. He got a glimpse at the man, his own suit loose and, as Jenny said, his two girls only wearing black panties whilst backed up against the skulls.
Jethro slipped down the strap of Jenny's camisole, nibbling on the skin. She tasted good. "It's like a goddamn orgy in here," Jethro whispered in her ear, his own body betraying how much he wanted her despite the setting.
"They sell drugs down here. Weapons occasionally. Miles and miles of catacombs, perfect hiding places. My contact says there are girls down here sometimes."
The crowd grew closer in the catacombs. They were squashed in, Jenny pressed up against his erection as they danced to the intolerable music. His mouth was on her neck, giving her an almighty hickey. Her eyes were either closed or watching their target. Through the throng of the crowd, Jenny could see that he was hitting one of the girls. Jenny's stomach turned. That was one of the reasons why she wanted most of these new arms dealers taken down. The older ones were part of the Cold War era, where dignity and honour came into it. Not these psychos who treated women worse than the guns they sold to kill children.
The sound of her name coming from his lips alerted her that Jethro was getting more and more worked up. They were part of the sex mentality in this place, addicted to the music, to each other. Jethro turned her around in the crowd, her underwear sticking to her. His tie was in pieces, her hands moving under his shirt. She had a perfect view of their target, although Jenny couldn't hear what they were saying.
Then Jethro slipped his fingers inside her, and Jenny stopped caring.
She knew she should keep an eye on the target, but the crowd was bigger and growing more frenzied as the lights became brighter and the music pumped harder out of the speakers. They were part of it all, the rhythm and the sweat. Jethro's fingers moved in and out of her as she rubbed against his cock. She had been slick five minutes into the party, and now she was so soaked she needed to take everything off and let Jethro have her. She clung to him, crying out his name with every sharp thrust of his fingers inside her panties. Her eyes were screwed shut, she didn't even know if anyone was watching her partner get her off in the city of the dead. She didn't care; she just needed him to touch her.
Just as Jethro hit the right spot and she came, the lights went out.