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.
He promised he wouldn't leave her.
And now Jenny Shepard was stuck in fucking lingeriein the middle of the Paris catacombs. Her skin was frozen; her damp panties making her feel dirty. The red glow in the dark wristband had long since lost its power, and she kept bumping into skulls. She felt like when she was seven, and she had got lost Christmas shopping in New York with her mother.
Only this was worse. She had the power to save herself and couldn't summon the energy to do so.
She'd taken her heels off as soon as she'd realised she was lost. She could still run in them, but they made too much noise on the stone floors. Her gun wasn't with her, but she had her knife. She'd managed to tape it to the underwire of her bra. With the camisole covering it, no one had even noticed. They were too busy staring at her nipples than consider what she could possibly be concealing.
Knife in hand. Mascara smeared. Heels discarded. Feet bleeding.
She felt like the heroine in a porn slasher film.
Amongst the quiet of the catacombs, Jenny heard voices in the dark. She started to walk towards it. It was another circular gravesite, but this one was their target's hide out for the arms and battered girls he traded. Jenny felt a warm rush of pride go through her. This evening wasn't a total bust after all. Of course she was alone and looked like a zombie fighting stripper, but she could get past that.
"Quick Jean, pack the damn boxes!"
Jenny leaned over into the light to watch their target strike his right hand man. She winced as blood sprayed from his nose onto one of the dirtied girls lying on the floor. One was dead, a bullet wound to the forehead. This was fast becoming the city of the damned.
"What if the people from the party come?"
The man they had watched all night grinned. "The music from the party still goes on my friend. You'll find that the people I invited prefer to do their business in the dark. Like that redhead on the floor whose boyfriend had his fingers inside her?" Jenny shivered. "Oblivious to everything around them. I would bet you any sum of money that they're fucking up against a corpse right now."
Jenny continued to watch for a moment as their target signed off on another shipment of arms. This was it; they had the evidence now to nail the dealer, to stop his arms trade and to save some of the young women he entrapped. That was where Jenny's focus truly was.
"I think you're lost, little one."
One of the bouncers from the party grabbed her wrist and yanked it back forcefully, almost breaking it. His body was heavy against hers; the freshness of his breath against the stench of death making her gag. She was thrown onto the body of the dead girl.
"You know, we were just talking about you."
Jenny looked up into the face of the arms dealer so elusive that they didn't even have a code name for him. His gaze was almost wolf like, but he turned quickly away from her at the sound of footsteps and another echoing voice in French.
"Henri, Henri…you do like the theatrics."
Their target smacked her in the face - forcing her down to the ground. They hadn't taken her knife thankfully; they were more focussed on their arms shipment then some silly American who had taken the wrong path away from her boyfriend. Jenny tried to get her head together, to focus her gaze and managed to find the second arms dealer in the room. He looked familiar, the white hat all she could focus on.
"Rene, don't mistake me - I appreciate you trying to mentor me."
The new man coughed, and Jenny got hold of the handle of her knife. It had been a present from her father, and she wasn't leaving it amongst the dead. "Then stop this, Henri. Stop being a caricature of what is wrong with this world. Be a businessman, not this. You disgust me."
Sharp footsteps told Jenny that the new man had left, and it was just the original gruesome trio to deal with. Henri, Jean and the bouncer. Plus the still alive girl, but Jenny was hoping she wasn't going to be a threat.
"Okay, Jean, now Froggie is dealt with lets handle the princess."
The bouncer picked Jenny up, his hands groping her breasts. She took the opportunity of their ignorance to stab him in the throat with her knife. As his blood splashed over her body, the screams of the bouncer alerted the men that there was a fox in the hen house. Jenny preferred to be considered a wolf.
Jenny scrambled past one of the boxes and ducked down as silencer fire hit over her head. For the first time since the lights went out, she could hear the pulse of music under her feet. Another scream was heard, but this one was feminine. They had killed the last girl.
"Come out, princess. We won't hurt you, we promise."
She rolled her eyes, realising that the men still thought her a dumb American. Oh well, so be it. One of the men - Jean - circled around the boxes and aimed his gun for Jenny. The dark of the crypt meant that she could lie on the floor undetected and stab him with her knife in the thigh. His gun went off, no silencer, and hit one of the skulls in the head. Two down, one asshole to go.
Jenny was about to get a look at where their target was when a pair of rough hands dragged her over the boxes and onto the growing pile of dead. Henri stomped on her hand, making her lose the knife. Jenny tried to reach for it, but he moved his foot over to her throat, crushing her windpipe.
"Oh little princess, you have stirred up a hornet's nest."
Henri raised his gun to shoot her in the head when someone double tapped him in the chest.
Jenny sighed with relief, gasping for air. She stumbled upwards to see who it was, and cried with joy to see Jethro. She knew he would come looking for her. He immediately checked to see if there was anyone who could disturb them, anyone who could take another shot at her. Then he was there, his arms wrapped around her, protecting her. Jenny couldn't help but feel relief that he had her back, that he was there when she had needed him.
This was the moment.
"I love you."
A small chuckle from him reverberated in the chamber. "That'll be the day," he whispered with a wink. "Come on, Shepard. Let's get out of here."
She was too dazed from that evening to even feel disappointed by his response.
She couldn't remember getting out of the catacombs alive. She supposed that was a general reaction to the city of the dead. She remembered finding her knife and wiping the blood off on her thigh, wanting to make it pristine. She remembered Jethro recovering his slugs from the through and through shoot of Henri. Other than that, and the fact that she had unlocked the door to their Paris safe house wearing a dead man's coat, she didn't know how they had left the party.
"Next year can we stay inside and maybe watch a scary movie or something?" Jethro suggested as he tended to her wounds, still wearing the suit he had been in the catacombs. She was now wearing a fresh shirt of his whilst he cleaned her broken feet. "Maybe Carrieor something?"
"You think you're going to still be with me next year?" Jenny teased, trying hard not to let her disappointment get the better of her. The only way she could try and live with herself was in believing the idea that he must have thought she didn't truly mean her words, when in fact she didn't mean anything less.
Her hair fell into her face and Jethro pushed it back, looking up at her with a smile. His thumb stroked her cheek. "Oh I hope so. I really do." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Sleep. You need to get some sleep, Jen."
Jenny nodded and stood up from the bed. She had every intention of walking across the hall and slipping between the cotton sheets in her own room. But Jethro's hand on her wrist halted her.
"Stay here with me, please?"
She licked her lips. This was going to make things awkward. She should have kept her damn mouth shut. "Jethro…"
"I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night and have to wonder whether I imagined saving you or not."
She smiled at his honesty, and his protectiveness. He was quite a man. "I was doing pretty well before you showed up, thank you," Jenny teased, before stroking his hand. "Thankyou."
She stood and tried to walk before she tumbled. Jethro wrapped his arms under her knees and hoisted her back into his bed, keeping her hostage against him. She lay on top of him for a while, let him fuss over her. He wasn't a man of big words; she didn't expect him to declare his love with flowers and an accordion. But…she wanted to know she wasn't the only one who was feeling like this.
"You know what you said in the…" Jethro fumbled over his words, trying to make right the awkwardness they both felt running in the background now. "I don't like people who throw around those words."
Jenny looked up, running a hand over his face. She wasn't sure what game he was playing, but she wanted no part of it. She just wanted the truth. "You're giving me a get out of jail free card. I've always been a Cluedogal."
She made a great show of a shrug before throwing her arms around his neck. He kept her close. "I guess it's just not meant to be." She closed her eyes, before staring into those blue ones that she truly wanted to wake up to every morning. "But I meant what I said. I love you."
Jenny waited for the rejection, but all she found was his soft mouth slanting over hers. "I love you back." She grinned and they kissed again, an energy running through them now. "So...maybe you should start sleeping in here." Gibbs nuzzled her neck. "Permanently."
Jenny looked up at him, grinning. This was better than expected. "Really want to start sleeping with another redhead, Gibbs? Could lead to divorce."
"Nah. You're not crazy enough to marry me."
She giggled again and reached for him. "Right now that is seriously debatable."
Jenny reached over to him, to finish what was started in the catacombs and what they both needed to cement this new state. This time, however, she wanted to undress him. He was always undressing her, now it was her turn to get what she needed.
The tie was already hanging off, and as she wound the silk round her hands, ideas forming that would satisfy all her fantasies about being bound by him. She unravelled it to the floor, letting it linger in the air before it joined the ruined lingerie that he had already removed from her skin.
The waistcoat had simple buttons, dark like the rest of his attire. Jenny undid them one by one, her hands trailing down the soft material before moving him forward to take off the new layer. Then he was just in a shirt, the material bunched against his elbows. Her fingers fumbled as she unrolled the sleeves, soft skin trailing down his bare arms. She pushed herself into his arms, letting her fingers undo every one of his buttons whilst he cradled her body. It was the opposite tableau of earlier that evening.
"Jenny…" She ran her hands down his chest, stroking the muscle. He was in good shape, the hours he spent jogging around Paris or boxing in their basement was time well spent.
The shirt was left to the floor and she reached for the belt buckle. She wasn't trying to torture, tease him. She was just trying to commit every moment of their first time making love to memory. This time she wouldn't be sneaking out after they'd slept together, wouldn't have to sneak condoms into the weekly shopping so Ducky wouldn't find out. This was something he could chastise them for, but now they would not feel guilty.
His trousers were discarded quickly, his underwear dropped to the floor without a second thought. As Jenny pulled the sheets around them, Jethro reached to undo his crisp shirt that she wore. Jenny's hands stilled him, and the look in his eyes made him wonder whether they truly knew each other at all.
"Leave it on, please."
They had their entire lives do that.
Their kiss was subtle, barely there touches of lips as their hands moved elsewhere. Jethro tried not to touch her chest, he didn't know what bruises the men had inflicted upon her but he knew the bruises on her hips were his. They continued kissing, lying side by side on the sheets - each other's equal. Jenny guided him inside her, and he just rocked against her, wanting the touch of her mouth more than any other part of her.
Eventually Jenny took the lead, as he was happy to let her do and he watched as she moved up and down him, her hips controlling his pleasure. But her mouth never left his, always lingering and needing such a simple but intimate touch.
He came against her mouth, his hands gripping the bed sheets instead of her. There would be time later where he could have her all over the safe house, all over Paris. At least, the places he hadn't had his partner already. But for now he just wanted to keep kissing her. Jethro changed the angle momentarily so he was rubbing against Jenny in just the right way, and she gripped onto his hair when she came.
They lay together, listening to the sounds of Paris meld into the November chorus of All Saints Day. Jenny's skin felt clammy through the thin shirt, and sweat was forcing his hair to stick to him. But neither one cared, they were just content to enjoy the first step in their new relationship.
When Ducky came in with his morning paper, happy that November had started, he went to check that Jenny had survived the catacombs. He found her and Jethro lying together in bed. In his time working with both the young redhead and the distinguished former marine, Ducky had watched them both sleep.
This was the first time he had ever seen them at peace.