Home Is Where the Heart Is

Disclaimer: I don't … Oh, what fun I could have if I did!

Author's Note: I appreciate all who have followed the story. Thank you for the reviews / PM's! :D It's been fun.

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Chapter 17

The thought of sharing a meal with Jethro that hadn't come from polystyrene container was intriguing enough for her to agree when he called. She hadn't been avoiding him—not exactly. She was busy trying to hold her team together and deal with the aftermath of had happened in London. The call to Andrea's father had been particularly difficult. Physically, she was still recovering from her gunshot wound and emotionally, she was exhausted. She rationalized that she hadn't had time for the talk she knew needed to take place.

Jenny studied her reflection in the mirror. It wasn't as if this were a 'real' date—she was fairly certain that she and Jethro were beyond the dating stage in their relationship. If the type of relationship they currently shared had a name, she admittedly was clueless as to what it would be. She had worn the soft black silk quite deliberately—there was nothing provocative in the design and it provided ample coverage of her bandaged shoulder.

She heard the bell and Noemi's voice as she permitted the guest entry into the foyer. She ran a brush through her hair one last time and tried to ignore the butterflies that she felt on the inside. This wasn't a 'date'---they had a more important topic to discuss.

"Jethro" She descended the stairs slowly, smiling softly at the way his eyes swept with open appreciation over her curves.

Damn! The woman could wear a cardboard box and she still would have the ability to make his head spin. He pulled a small bouquet of fresh spring flowers from behind his back, smirking at the shocked look in her eyes.

"Flowers for me?"

"Well, a bottle of bourbon seemed too predictable"

She took the proffered flowers and inhaled their scent. "Thank you" she said before passing them off to Noemi.

He opened the door and ushered her out into the night.

{ { { { { { {

Flowers and candlelight. He'd almost forgotten how beautiful she looked in low flickering light. He could be impulsive if the mood suited him. He was hoping a change in venue would be just enough to get her to let down those impenetrable defenses she liked to retreat behind whenever she felt threatened. By tacit agreement, they kept the conversation light. It wasn't until he had walked her to her front door that he felt the mood shift.

"Drink?"

"Sure"

He glanced around the study, oddly thankful when she grabbed the decanter of bourbon and headed back out directing him into the comfort of the smaller informal sitting room. Amused, he watched as she muttered something under her breath about 'boys' and tossed two baseball gloves into a low wicker basket that already held a couple of balls and a frayed Yankees cap.

"Henry said that he really enjoyed the game the other night"

"Uh-huh"

"You'd make this a lot easier if you'd contribute to a conversation, Jethro"

He gave her an insolent smile, taking the glass of bourbon she offered. "Never was very good with words, Jen"

"You know we need to talk"

"About?" He knew exactly where this was going, but felt it only fair to give her a head start.

Her green eyes flashed momentarily, "Don't play games with me, Jethro. More importantly, don't play with him. He doesn't really understand how complicated this whole thing is"

"Doesn't have to be"

"What?"

"Complicated. Seems pretty simple: you go or you stay"

No, it wasn't that simple. No matter how much she wished it to be. She had fought long and hard to be where she was and she'd be damned if she would be ashamed of what she was. The sacrifices along the way had been necessary—not easy. The thought of leaving him before he knew about Henry had tied her stomach in knots; the idea of leaving now both were aware of the existence of the other was downright painful.

"And if we go?"

His voice betrayed none of the raw nerves that he felt inside the minute the question registered. He didn't want to think about what his life would be like if they left. " I'll figure something out" He chased the statement with a mouthful of bourbon.

"Choices are harder when there is a child involved"

He came and stood behind her, his mouth bending up in a small curve when he noticed her fingers tighten on her glass. A nervous and unsettled Jenny was one he could work with.

"You've made a lot of choices, Jen. Not all of them easy"

She felt his breath on the back of her neck and willed herself to stay still. "I didn't want easy "

"What do you want?"

She turned. " I want to be home, Jethro. To have a place Henry and I can call home--together."

He tugged her gently towards him and breathed a single request, "Stay".

There were questions to be asked: jobs, houses, schools, plans. But the longer she stared into the smoldering blue of his eyes, the less she cared about having those answers worked out ahead of time. She bit her lower lip and then—noticing his fascination with her mouth—licked her lips in anticipation of the tempest that was building between them. She raised a hand and touched his face gently before giving her answer and pulling his head to hers.

"Yes"

Her head finally agreed with what her heart had known all along: she was home.

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The End