Focus, she told herself.

But she had to admit, her fingers were itching to trace the juncture between buttocks and thighs.

Just to see what he would do.

"I'm going to stay away from it," she said as she started to work on his right thigh, avoiding the scar as she worked her way down to his calf. Kneading away the tension first from one leg and then from the other.

"Turn over," she said.

Gibbs craned his head in her direction. "You object to mooning but not to flashing?" he asked with amusement in his eyes and in his voice.

"Don't flatter yourself, Jethro. As you said ... nothing I haven't seen before."

He caught the look on her face as he turned round and settled on his back. Caught it and smiled; because she was nowhere as immune as she liked to pretend. And if the pebbled nipples under her t-shirt were anything to go by she was enjoying this as much as he was. So he lay back and continued to smile at her.

Because he knew from experience exactly which path her hands would follow.

Jen massaged the bottom of each foot with her thumbs, and pulled gently on each toe as her fingers slid down them. Perfectly aware of what her touch was doing to specific parts of him. From the smile playing across his lips he had no objections, so she leaned her body closer, slid her hands up his legs to his upper thighs, and continued to work her magic there.

Gibbs could feel her breath teasing him - and it was almost enough to drive him to desperation.

"Jen ..." he growled.

She ignored him. Moving her assault to his groin. Massaging around his arousal without touching it. Leaving him straining and trying to find a way to force her to make contact.

"All things come to those who wait, Jethro," she said slowly, as she rubbed a bit more oil into her palms and leaned up a little further to massage his chest. Brushing against him and giving him the contact he wanted. "You know you used to be a lot more patient than this," she observed, as his hands instantly clasped her hips roughly and rocked her gently against him.

"Don't make me rip them off you," he growled as his fingers surged under her t-shirt and tugged at her underwear.

"That a threat or a promise?" she asked against his mouth as they came together in a surge of blistering heat.

Shimmying out of the lace containment and enjoying the silky sensation of his flesh against hers.

"Oh God ..." she murmured, her fingers fisting in his hair as the friction sent her senses into overload.

She would probably have just lain on top of him and ground them both into release if he hadn't flipped her over. She looked up at him with wide eyes for a moment; her back arching off the bed slightly as he sank into her. Gibbs moaned softly in her ear before nuzzling the soft skin right where her shoulder met her neck. Remembering it as being an especially erogenous zone. He watched as the sharp pleasure racing through every nerve in her body manifested itself on her face.

She was possibly the most tactile woman he had ever been with, and he knew that on occasion she loved to be overwhelmed into release. Her soft, breathy moans reached into his soul as he gently caressed her face, her lips, and the transluscent skin over her eyelids as he moved slowly within her no more than a fraction of an inch at a time.

"This is torture," she whispered.

"You love it," he whispered back. Assaulting her neck again in a long sucking bite that made her gasp.

"Are you okay?" she asked, sparing a thought for his leg for a moment. Knowing the strain this must be putting on it.

"Fne," he promised.

And she let herself believe him - because the the intensity of his gaze told her that he was holding nothing back, and the lack of urgency spoke for itself.

"Jethro ..." she murmured after the drawn out, sensuous pleasuring had gone on for a while.

His cue that orgasm was approaching.

He felt her grip his forearms as he picked up the pace. Moving quickly and laying the foundations for his own release. Pinning her down harder. Thrusting faster and infinitely deeper. And finally closing his eyes as they crashed into mutual orgasm.

Sleep came easily after that. And the last thing he remembered was Jen seeking the sanctuary of his embrace before he drifted off.

An hour later he placed a careful kiss to her shoulder and eased out of the warm bed; thinking that something to eat might be in order. He was slipping into his jeans, almost sure he'd gotten away with it when he heard her voice.

"Jethro ..."

Her tone alerted him to the fact that he'd been caught.

"Didn't mean to wake you."

"Do that again," she said with a hint of menace in her voice.

"Do what?"

"Take your leg out of your jeans and put it back in."

Gibbs froze.

"Jethro?"

He didn't answer.

"That's a lot of mobility for someone who was hobbling around three hours ago. It never goes away that fast."

He saw realization dawn on her face, and started to back away from the bed.

Slowly.

"You son of a bitch. You set me up. You miser-"

He heard something meet an untimely end against the bedroom door just as he pulled it closed behind him.

Then he bobbed his head with a proud grin, pulled himself up to his full height, and sauntered down the stairs.

Author's note:

And there we have it – an end to the last of the survivors.

I have nothing else to repost.

If anyone has a hard copy of A Few Good Men please PM me, as I would very much appreciate having it.

I am going to try and pick Spooks up again (that's the blast-from-the-past AU with a McGee connection).

No promises, but I will try and finish that one off over the course of the next few weeks.

Wish me luck!