Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise. Except the mistakes, those are mine. This is unedited, so bare with me.

A/N: By now I think it's pretty obvious that each chapter is inspired by a country song. This one is no different, the song of choice is Feels so right by Alabama. I think this is officially the final chapter, unless my muse decides to turn this into a universe of its own. There were various ways this story could develop, for now I'm pleased with how it turned out.

This chapter is dedicated to the lovely Esquinzo, who is the main reason that there is a third chapter. I hope this lives up to your expectations.

As always – enjoy*


A deep sigh drifted past his lips, the rush of air cooling the skin where the scalding hot coffee had just burnt him. The orange walls felt more oppressive than usual, slowly closing in on him. He was desperate to escape everything, even if he had just returned from Stillwater. He'd been grateful to spend a few days with his father after the whole Reynosa incident, silently thankful that his old man was as resilient as he was.

Turning his gaze back from where he'd been staring at the pictures pinned up against the divider, he scowled at the sloppy hand writing of his senior field agent. Slamming the file shut he effectively caught the attention of his entire team, with a swift flick of his wrist he sent the file spinning through the air.

"DiNozzo!" The angry bark of his name made him look up.

Tony let out a quiet oomph! as the file hit him. The young Italian looked at his boss with large olive eyes, bewilderment rendering him almost speechless.

"Where'd you learn to write?" The question brought a soft snicker from the person to his right.

Jethro turned a dark glare towards the Israeli, causing the laughter to die down. He heard the muttered apology from Tony as he opened the file and tried to start over. Lifting the Styrofoam cup to his lips he realized that it was in fact empty, crushing it in his hand he tossed it in the bin and tried to continue with his work.

"Going for coffee." Jethro snapped as he thundered through the bullpen towards the elevator.

The ding sounded in the deserted squad room. Tony snapped the file shut and pulled his top drawer open, sending it sliding almost straight out of its brackets. The racket was enough to get Ziva and McGee's attention, he gave them each a suspicious look as he pulled a small pair of binoculars out of the drawer.

"Tony, what are you doing?" Ziva asked curiously as she watched Tony abandon his chair and tip toe towards the large windows over looking the Navy Yard.

The squad room was deserted except for the three of them and the silence felt more than just eerie. Tony scrunched his nose as he held the binoculars up to his eyes, watching the massive press conference that was taking place out front. Tony glared at all the other agents as they got to enjoy a few hours outside.

"Tony!" Ziva snapped right next to him, causing him to jerk and poke himself in the eye with the eyepiece. He glared at her as he was made to hand over the binoculars.

"Even Abby is outside." Ziva commented casually as she dropped the binoculars and looked as the large crowd cheered and clapped.

"Oh come on!" Tony's glare darkened, "How come we're the only ones not joining in on the fun?"

"Because you have work to do." Jethro growled behind them, his voice dark and menacing. Opening his palm he planted a firm slap to the back of the Italian's head. "Get back to work, before I find you some more."

Tony and Ziva both gulped, scurrying to get back to their desks. The senior field agent shot a murderous glare at McGee as he rubbed the back of his head, "Thanks, McTwo-faced."

Tim rolled his eyes and turned back to his computer screen, continuing to type away like nothing happened. He wasn't stupid enough to do anything to turn the wrath of Gibbs on himself. Returning Tony's glare from across the bullpen he continued with his report.

Jethro ran a hand through his hair, hoping that it would force the headache away. He gave Tony a warning glance as he caught him toying with the binoculars Ziva had thrust into his hands as they scurried to get back to their desks. The Italian dropped them back in the drawer and slammed it shut.

Shaking his head he turned back to his own paperwork. The Navy Yard had been buzzing since SecNav had announced his retirement earlier in the week. He had never concerned himself with politics and he wasn't about to start. All he cared about was doing his job, and if it meant he had to keep his team indoors so they could finish their overdue paperwork then so be it.

The sound of the large crowd outside cheering had them all looking up. The new SecNav had chosen to make one hell of a grand speech outside, effectively drawing all the agents out into the blistering sun. He scowled darkly, the press was everywhere, trapping him inside and making a steaming cup of coffee unobtainable.

If he were honest with himself he could do with a stiff drink, and he knew exactly where to get one. Combing his fingers through his hair he felt the scar. It was close to fifteen years since he'd felt the powerful swing of Diane wielding a seven-iron.

But the scar brought memories of a different redhead, one he hadn't seen in the last fifteen years either. The last he could remember was watching her leave in the dead of night and spending the subsequent months waiting for her in that smoke filled bar. After realizing that he was fooling himself in hoping to see her again he had retreated to the solitude of his basement.

He cast a longing glance at the drawer where his flask full of bourbon was residing, shaking himself mentally he tapped at random keys on his keyboard. Staring at his blank computer screen he listened to the diligent tapping of all his agents fingers flying over their keyboards, determined to get home for the weekend.

The elevator let out an unnecessary loud ding, announcing the first group of hyped agents. It wasn't long before the vacated squad room started swarming with agents again. Tony had long since forgotten about his paperwork and his boss' silent death threat to finish it. Spotting Abby quickly as she piled out of the elevator with a groups of agents he grabbed her arm gently and steered her towards the break room, determined to find out what he had missed.

The back elevator dinged as it arrived on the catwalk, despite the noise in the squad room he heard it. Purposefully ignoring who stepped off the silver box, he pulled the thick file closer that McGee had placed on his desk. Out the corner of his eye he could see the young Israeli watch whoever had stepped off the elevator.

Slamming the file shut, he pulled his coat on, dead set on getting a cup of coffee before he decided to shoot the next person who irritated him.

A desk phone let out a shrill ring.

Tim looked at his phone nervously, hoping that it wasn't Tony trying to get him into trouble. Picking it up as quickly as possible, he spoke to the other person quietly as Gibbs marched around his desk. Placing the phone back in its cradle he swallowed heavily.

"Uh… Boss," Tim called loud enough to stop his boss right in his tracks.

"What, McGee?"

It took all his willpower not to shrink back at his boss' tone of voice. "Director wants to see you in his office."

Ziva watched with a raised eyebrow as Gibbs threw his coat over the bookcase violently, his gun and badge making a dull thud as he slammed them back in the top drawer. She met McGee's wide eyed look as they listened to their boss' angry footsteps storm up the stairs.

"He has blown a basket, yes?" Ziva looked at McGee for confirmation.

Tim shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "Gasket." He corrected and watched as she simply rolled her eyes.

x

The last thing he wanted to do on a Friday afternoon just before going home for the weekend was talk politics with some tight sphincter who thought he knew everything. He respected his superiors and what they did, but he didn't like it when they wasted his time.

The young secretary gave him a warm smile despite his dark mood as he made his way towards the closed metal door. Forgoing his manners, he burst through the door, hearing the irritated scoff from the young secretary as the door swung open.

"Special Agent Gibbs, how nice of you to join us, I'm sure there is a valid reason your team wasn't present during the speech?" Leon asked with amusement in his voice, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Busy." Came his reply.

Leon gave him a knowing look, seeing right through his neutral answer. Shaking his head he held out his arm towards the other presence in the room, his voice taking on a tone of respect towards the other person.

"Agent Gibbs, I would like you to meet the new Secretary of the Navy – Jennifer Shepard."

He felt his mouth go dry.

His pulse hammered in his throat as his eyes found the redhead standing near the window. He curled his fingers into his palms. The urge to run his fingers through her hair was almost overwhelming. She turned around slowly, sharp green eyes staring right through him. For the briefest moment he thought she didn't recognize him.

The faintest blush shot across the bridge of her nose, and he knew that the memories they shared were as clear to her as they were to him. Despite the years and the current distance between them, he could still smell her expensive perfume, the same perfume that had stayed on his bed sheets for months after she had left in the early hours of the morning.

Jethro bit his tongue, trying to keep the smirk off his face. She looked so far from the woman he had met in that smoke filled bar. Her hair was pinned back neatly, keeping it out of her eyes – she was dressed professionally in a neat high waist pinstriped skirt, the crisp oxford shirt hugging her perfectly as strolled towards him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Special Agent Gibbs." She held out her hand for him to shake.

He'd forgotten that her voice sounded like smooth velvet, wrapping around him tightly and rendering him immovable. Taking her hand in his he couldn't help but stare at her mouth, remembering just how alluring it was to kiss her.

"Pleasure is mine, Madam Secretary." He sucked in a breath as she gripped his hand tighter, bringing back steamy images of the last time he had held her in his arms.

He let go of her hand as she pulled it back, aware that they'd been staring at each other for far too long. He pulled himself to his full height, watching her as she moved around the room, conversing with Leon with confidence.

Jethro felt his muscles tighten all over as he found himself watching the swing of her hips. She placed her hands on her hips and his eyes suddenly cut to her left hand. He ground his teeth together as he caught sight of the delicate golden wedding band on her finger. He can still see the vivid bruises on various parts of her body.

He silently wondered if she's still with him or if she had found someone else in the last fifteen years, the last he could remember she had left the abusive bastard. The fact that she had moved on was a chilling realization that he'd held onto her for far longer than he had hoped. She seemed happy, far more happy than she had all those years ago.

Writing off the twinge in his gut as something other than loss, he retreated quietly. He watched her one last time, deciding that letting her go was best for the both of them.


It was wrong showing up unannounced, in polite society one usually called first. Standing at the bottom of the steps, she stared at her own reflection in the oval window. She had hoped to speak with him before she went back to the Pentagon, but he had disappeared without her even noticing. Maybe she should have left it at that, there was no point in digging up the past.

Climbing the steps with uncertainty she reached out to ring the doorbell. She stopped midway, looking at the open wires and smashed piece of electronic strangely. She dropped her hand next to her side, chewing the inside of her cheek. What if he was asleep? She'd hate to rouse him for nothing, and given his silent departure she was probably the last person he wanted to see.

Letting out a slow breath, she looked at her reflection one last time. Fifteen years – and all they shared were two drunken nights and a moment of weakness in both of their judgment. She'd much rather treasure one night of memories than having to face him and whatever regret he might have.

Pulling the thin blazer tighter around her shoulders she turned back to the dark Audi that was parked across the street, hoping she'd be able to slip away before anyone realized she was here. It was close to midnight, making the neighborhood extra quiet and the sound of her clicking heels extra loud as she headed down the footpath.

A light flickered on behind her, she bit her lip – drawing blood. Cursing under her breath she quickened her pace before he had a chance to see who had been lingering on his doorstep.

"Jenny?" His voice was low, wrapping around her and stopping her in her tracks.

Jenny stood with her back to him, contemplating her choices, she could either make a run for it or face him. Going with the latter, she slowly turned around, an apologetic smile on her face. He was leaning against the door frame, a tool-belt around his waist and wood shavings littering his silver hair.

"I didn't mean to bother you." She sounded more vulnerable than she had in years.

Jethro narrowed his eyes at her inquisitively, wondering what she was doing on his doorstep at eleven o'clock in the evening. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, "Nah, 's no bother, wanna come in?"

He shouldn't be inviting her in, not with their reputation, and most definitely not when she had a husband waiting for her at home. He could see that she was weighing her options, not sure what decision would be the best – and in all honesty neither did he.

"Sure." He smiled at her and motioned for her to follow him.

Nothing had changed in the last fifteen years that she'd been in his basement – except there was no boat skeleton filling most of the space. She sipped her beer, watching him as he sanded the leg of a chair he'd built. He wasn't big on small talk and she was thankful for that, she needed a few minutes to sort through her thoughts.

Jethro dropped his sander on the workbench and reached for the mug filled with steaming hot coffee. Leaning against the table he watched his companion, his eyes trailing over her incredibly long legs as she crossed then elegantly. He grit his teeth as she drank from the dark glass bottle and proceeded to lick the remaining drops of beer from her lips.

Clearing his throat he grabbed the sander and sauntered to where she was sitting. Placing his mug amongst the scattered tools, he rooted around for a piece of new sandpaper. Wrestling the new piece onto the sander, he rested his hand on the workbench, blatantly staring at her.

"Secretary of the Navy, huh?" He met her green gaze, his cobalt eyes showing how impressed he was with her new title. She smiled at him proudly before bobbing her head in confirmation. Jethro shook his head, a small laugh slipping past his lips. "Didn't expect to see you, Jen."

Jenny laughed, a deep alto sound that had him swallowing hard. She shook her head, the tip of her tongue darting out to lick her lips again. "Strange coincidence, isn't it?"

Jethro smirked and shook his head at her, drinking from his ceramic cup again. "Don't believe in them." She raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn't explain any further.

Reaching out he took her left hand in his, his thumb running over her knuckles lightly. He looked at the golden wedding band, ignoring the tinge in his gut he looked up at her as he place a soft kiss to the back of her hand. The shadow falling across his face hiding the pain in his blue eyes. Letting go of her hand he desperately wanted to reach for his old pal Maker's Mark, but he had two hours on the road ahead of him and he couldn't afford being drunk.

"Why are you here?" He looked up at her, his mind in complete turmoil.

Jenny gripped his hand in hers running her own fingers over his calloused palm. She could see the conflict in his eyes, and she knew that hers probably looked the same. Letting go of his hand she slipped off the stool, making her way towards the old radio that sat right in the far corner of the workbench. Flicking the tiny switch on, she smiled in spite of herself.

Country music filled the quiet basement, she tucked a wisp of loose hair behind her ear. "I never thought that I'd see you again." She effectively avoided his question.

"You're the one who left." He realized he sounded like a scorned lover – when she hadn't even been his to begin with.

Jenny turned towards him, dark emerald pools looking right through him. "I didn't have much of a choice... I was still married."

"And still – you went back." Anger dripped from his voice as he flung his sander across the basement. He grit his teeth as he saw her flinch, fear briefly etched across her features as she watched him. He hung his head, chastising himself. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, dislodging various pieces of wood shavings.

Moving towards her he took her hand in his again, squeezing it comfortingly.

"He knew about us, Jethro, there wasn't much I could do." The coldness in her voice chilled him to the bone. She watched his eyes darken as he realized what had followed. Jethro grit his teeth as he wiped away a silent tear rolling down her cheek, cupping her face in his palm he stroked the soft skin tenderly.

"He was at my townhouse and there was no doubt that he'd been drinking," She moved away from him, choosing instead to examine all the various hand tools scattered over the workbench. "There was no escaping from him, not when he was drunk."

Jethro dug his nails into the palms of his hands, trying to keep his cool, he didn't know if he had it in him to listen to what she was going to tell him next. He'd sensed her need to talk, but he wasn't sure if he had it in him to stop himself from killing the bastard with his bare hands.

"He wanted to know where I had been for the better of the night." She shook her head minutely, "When I told him that it was none of his business anymore, he lost it."

Jenny closed her eyes against the memories, unaware of how long she had kept everything locked up inside her. "Noemi, my housekeeper, had been in her room she had called the police the moment she had heard him shouting."

Jethro moved behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders, lending her whatever support she wanted. Placing a soft kiss in her hair he waited for her to continue. She placed a small hand over his, gripping it tightly.

"I was unconscious by the third blow." She turned around, resting her hands on his chest as his own drifted down to her hips. She gave a quiet laugh, "Noemi had knocked him out with a baseball bat that she claimed was for our safety."

Jethro gave a slight upturn of his lips. Reaching up he tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear, unable to stop himself. She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut as a soft smile curled her lips. "My father made sure he signed the divorce papers." She met his intense gaze, "And the rest is pretty much history."

Jethro let go of her as he caught sight of the gold band on her finger again. "Is he treating you right?" He inclined his head towards her left hand, unable to look her in the eye. Turning away from her he grabbed another sander, running his thumb over the surface of the sandpaper.

Jenny bit her lip, her eyes flashing dangerously. Twisting the ring on her finger thoughtfully she saw Jethro's muscles tighten, his body as stiff as a board. "Mmmh, he's perfect..." She watched him drop the sander and go for something else. "He's so perfect, he's non-existent."

Whatever was in his hands slipped from his grip and clattered on the metal workbench. He turned around to face her, a glare directed her way as he leaned against the workbench. He watched her take the wedding band off her finger and place it amongst all his hand tools. Lifting his chin he studied her closely as she moved to stand right in front of him, invading his personal space.

"I'm not married. It just keeps groping old men away from me – sometimes." She placed her hands on his chest, running her perfectly manicured nails over the hard muscles.

"'s not funny, Jen." He grumbled as he pulled her closer to him, trying to fight the smile as she threw her head back and laughed.

Sobering up she looked up at him, "To answer your question..." she pulled him way from the workbench, "I was wondering if two old friends could share a dance?"

Leaning back, he turned to volume up on the old radio. Wiping his hands on his jeans he took her hands in his, pulling her against his chest. His hands drifted down her sides, slipping around her waist and coming to a rest on her behind. He smirked at her as she bit her lip and allowed him to pull her even tighter against him, his fingers kneading softly.

She laced her fingers through his hair, stroking the thin scar on his scalp. Shaking her head at him she pressed her forehead against his. "Fifteen year, and your still predictable."

He let out a quiet snort and lifted her in his arms, holding her tightly against him. He saw the same fire flash in her eyes as that first night they met. Curling a hand in her hear he pulled her face closer to his, "I missed you, Jen."

He met her halfway, kissing her deeply, allowing the familiar taste of her to was over him. His memory did her no justice. Feeling her this close, her body molded against his, her fingers clasped in his hair, reminded him exactly why he clung to her for the last fifteen years – it felt so right.

He swayed with her around his basement, letting the music wrap around them.

Jenny pulled away, her lips swollen from their kissing – her eyes dark. "I missed you too."

How they had ended up in his bedroom had escaped her somewhere between his hands pushing the thin blazer off her shoulders and her desperately trying to wrestle the tool-belt off his hips. Her head dropped back against the pillows as he grew frustrated and ripped her shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. She sucked in a breath as he placed nipping kisses across her collarbone, most definitely leaving his mark on her, his slight stubble scratched the sensitive skin. His fingers worked the zipper on her skirt down nimbly as he helped her take it off.

Running her hands over his chest to his jeans, she slipped her hands under his t-shirt, feeling his muscles contract and quiver against her hands. Pulling it over his head she let a quiet moan slip as she watched his muscles pull taught. Using most of her strength she flipped him on his back, a sinful smirk on her lips as he swallowed loudly and strained against her.

Jethro growled deep in his throat as he watched her unclasp her lacy bra, leaving her in only her thigh high stockings and garter belt. Sitting up he pulled her closer, her bare breasts pressing against his chest. Lacing both hands in her hair, he captured her mouth with his effectively swallowing the moan she let slip as he rocked his hips against hers in desperation.

They made quick work of divesting each other of their remaining clothing. Jethro nipped the vast expanse of perfect skin, enjoying each little noise she made as he did as he pleased. Her nails raked down his back, leaving faint red welt in their wake. He growled as she pinched the tender skin of his butt, he scraped his teeth against a pebbled nipple in retaliation.

"Jethro-" She mewled as he rubbed against her intimately.

The message was clear, they had wasted fifteen years, they could take their time to explore later. Trailing calloused fingers over her sternum he sucked in a sudden breath as she took him in her very knowing hand. It was his turn to moan, enjoying the controlled flicks of her wrist.

He slipped two strong digits inside her, making sure she was ready. Leaning down he traced the blush that rushed over her chest and up her neck with his mouth. Long smooth legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. He felt her relax underneath him, preparing herself for what was to come. He felt her nails bite into his shoulder and his hip as he finally slipped into her.

Jenny let out a satisfied moan as he shifted fractionally, allowing them both to adjust to the new sensation. She felt her breathing grow heavier with each controlled thrust of his hips. His eyes were large and dark, allowing her to see his true feelings.

Pulling him down, she kissed him deeply, letting him know how she felt. Arching her back he was pressed tighter against her, their heated bodies moving together seamlessly. She felt the telltale flutter of her muscles as he moved with her in wild abandonment.

Jethro grunted with each thrust, enjoying the small gasps of pleasure she let slip. He felt her body spasm sporadically, alerting him that she was close. Nipping at her jaw softly he took hold of her hands, lacing their fingers together. He felt her start to quiver uncontrollably. He listened to her gasp and moan his name right next to his ear, allowing her to pull him to a blissful end as he shouted her name in pleasure.

x

The soft creak of the floorboards pulled him out of his relaxed state. Running a hand over his face he blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to adjust to his surroundings. Reaching out he tried to find the warm body he knew was there. He frowned when he felt the cool bed sheets.

He pressed his thumb and index finger against his temples, trying to sort through his thoughts. For the briefest moment he thought he'd dreamt everything, but his naked state alerted him that his memories weren't that vivid.

Sitting up he looked around the dark bedroom, trying to figure out what was going on. He leaned against the headboard, trying to see what the time was. He closed his eyes and tried to listen for anything out of the ordinary. When there was nothing he tried to take stock of his situation, wondering how he had let her slip through his fingers a second time.

He was too caught up with his own thoughts to hear the floorboards creak a second time. It was only when he heard soft footsteps that he realized that there was someone else in the room with him. His blue eyes snapped open, watching her as she pulled on the t-shirt that hung over his dresser.

Jenny rubbed her arms lightly, fighting down a shiver. She smiled at her bleary eyed lover, feeling a tiny flutter as he smiled back at her lazily. Crawling under the sheets again she sidled up next to him, tangling herself with him in hopes of warming herself up. Looking up at him she cupped his cheek.

"You thought I left, didn't you?"

It was unnerving how easily she could read him. Jethro avoided her gaze, instead focusing on her lips. "Something like that." He tucked a wild curl behind her ear, pulling her closer and kissing her. Watching her smile as her eyes fluttered shut, he traced her delicate features with his finger tip. "Was plannin' on going to my cabin for a few day, you wanna come?"

Jenny pulled away slightly, meeting his cobalt eyes, running her finger over his lips she grinned at him. "You bet your ass I want to, Cowboy."

They laid down next to each other, Jenny curled tightly around him, her cold toes tucked under his feet and her head resting on his chest. He slipped his fingers in her hair, holding her against him. He felt her shift and looked down as she moved to meet his questioning gaze.

Slinging an arm over his hips she hugged him tightly, she kissed him softly, pressing her forehead against his tenderly. "I'm done running Jethro." Her eyes flicked away from his, afraid that she might find rejection in his icy blues. Lifting her chin he made her look at him, a smile curling his lips.

"You're home, Jen."

- The End -

(Maybe)


I have no idea where all the fluff came from.

Thanks for reading ;)