From Paris, With Love by DD Agent
I do not own NCIS or any of its characters, or its settings - all belongs to the lovely folks at CBS.
Thank you to everyone who put this story on alert or has favourited it, makes me so happy to see that people have enjoed this! Extra special thank you to left my heart in Paris, TheBreakfastGenie, NCIS She-Demon, Besilea and jstapny for leaving such great reviews! :D
I really loved writing this, its one of my favourite ones. I'm currently writing a seriously badass NCIS fic that, if I pull it off, could be the best thing I have ever written. Or at least the coolest. Keep 'em peeled, and I hope you like this final chapter!
She was slow getting to the door, and when Jenny Shepard opened up to him she looked tired. Jethro smiled at her in the door frame, looking over the bruising in her face now turned to yellow, and the sling around her arm with sadness. But she looked happy to see him, and that was all that mattered. She was alive. That was all that mattered.
"Missed you at work. Tied up all the loose ends about Cyrano and Corporal Tracey," Jethro coughed, not sure how to bring up the next part. "The loose ends involving Benoit and Svetlana…"
Jenny pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It was best to get all the business out of the way first, even though they hadn't seen each other in over a fortnight. "Have been dealt with. I called in a favour to sort out two of my many mistakes. The CIA wanted him dead anyway, and Svetlana…well the person I owe managed to take the shot when I couldn't."
Jethro leaned into the doorway and put both hands either side of Jenny's face. He stroked her cheek, watching as she closed her eyes under his ministrations. "What you going to do now?"
"I don't know. I always wanted this, to be Director. Not just for my own personal reasons. I wanted to do so much with NCIS. The OSP was one of those things, but there is so much more on my NCIS bucket list." Jenny swallowed. "This time I'm going to do it right. Going to earn back your team's respect, your trust. Earn back my own self respect. Everyone makes mistakes, but it's how you fix them that counts."
Jethro smiled, removing his hands from her face and digging them into his pockets. "A fresh start. Sounds good to me, Jen. I think it should apply for us too."
Jenny nodded, resting her hand against the doorframe. "Will told me what you were like when I was shot…"
"That's why I can understand what you did with Benoit." Jethro ran his fingers over hers. "If Benoit had killed you, I would have done things to him…I would have made him suffer. Starting to see why you didn't want Tony and Ziva in our position. It's dangerous. You can't have that in an operational context, not in a standard one anyway." He watched the ends of her mouth lift up. "You're not completely off the hook, Shepard. Got a long way to go. But we're on the right path."
Jenny nodded and reached for Jethro. She pulled at his shirt with her free hand, and Jethro wrapped his arms around her. She leaned up to rest her lips against his, and he softly kissed her back, taking his time to really appreciate how she tasted, how the contours of her lips felt against his own. He had forgotten what it felt like to come close to losing her.
"Fresh start," Jenny whispered against his jaw. "You know there was once a time when I would have asked you to stay. And I wouldn't have taken no for an answer."
Jethro nodded and pressed his lips to Jenny's forehead. She knew what his answer would be. They would have to take things slow, work on their relationship at work before they could go back to the beginning as lovers. But as Jethro said, they were on the right path.
But she wasn't always able to read his mind. "I have those play tickets. You do oweme, Shepard."
Jenny couldn't believe his response. She looked into his face to see if he was serious, if they were really doing this. She beamed like the sun when she realised he was. "I'll grab my coat."
She locked the door behind them as they headed out into the night. Jethro rested his arm around Jenny's waist as they walked along the street. He kissed the top of her head, her hand clinging to his shirt.
The curtain was raised on a new act, the actors ready to begin something different.
The chessboard was thrown out the window, pieces scattered on the pavement.
And fools kissed happily on the street, lost to the world around them.
Returning to the beginning.