A/N - thanks for the reviews. And er - about the door, sorry - I couldn't resist.

Part 3

But he couldn't stay out of the fray forever. An hour later he was sitting at his desk, listening to the team as they threw ideas around about the case they'd picked up. He wasn't participating much, working on some of the paperwork that had been building up – still keeping his distance. But Abby had settled herself on the floor beside his desk, within touching distance and he was pretending not to notice the worried glances she directed his way every so often.

When his cell phone rang the conversation going on around him stopped dead.

"Gibbs,"

"It's over," she said quietly. "I'll be heading back to DC in a few minutes. The President is on his way back to the White House."

"How long until you get here?" At his words DiNozzo cheered, correctly assuming that she wouldn't be coming back unless everything was OK. Abby looked over at him and at his slight nod she whooped and got to her feet, kissing Ducky on the cheek. Tony spun an astonished looking Ziva around before he caught sight of her expression and hastily backed away. But the sounds of celebration carried.

"I'll be about an hour. Where are you Jethro?"

"At the office – we had a breakthrough on a case."

"What case?" Her tone told him that it would be best not to attempt to dissemble right now.

"It's a cold case – from '76, Abs found something."

"Of course she did – the question is, why was she looking in the first place?" He heard her sigh, "send them home Jethro – for real this time. The case has waited this long, a few more hours won't make much difference."

"OK,"

"And go with them. When I get back to HQ I don't expect to find you there."

"Planning on getting any rest yourself Director?"

"Eventually." He knew better than to push her further and even he could work out that this was not the moment for the more personal conversation they might need to have. He wasn't sure he was looking forward to that, he was hardly good at talking – definitely a man who preferred to let his actions speak for him. "I have to go. I'm sure I'll see you soon." Her tone had softened and he knew he wasn't the only one thinking about what they had and hadn't said.

"Count on it." It was as close to a promise as either of them would get and he almost smiled because they did have another chance – though surely they'd pushed their luck far enough.

He snapped the phone shut without saying more, determined not to say goodbye to her now that she was on her way back. When he looked up everyone was watching him. "Abs – the Director says 'good work.' She'll be here in an hour; go home, get some rest."

Jen Shepard closed her phone and ran her thumb over her palm. Her eyes closed and for a moment she let herself remember his touch, the whisper of his fingertips against her skin. She'd repeated the gesture more than once over the last few hours – the memory offering the comfort she'd needed in the midst of the crisis.

She hadn't let herself think too much about what had passed between them, or what it meant. There had been far too many other things to worry about, there were still too many things to worry about. But now she had no activity to hide behind, at least not for the time it would take to travel back to DC; nothing to think about but what she was going to do about Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"Director Shepard, we're ready." She roused herself to give a sharp nod to the agent who had appeared at her side. Her gaze slid across the tarmac to the place where the sharp blades of the helicopter rotated; waiting to carry her back to DC, her agency and the man she'd once given up.

It was a few hours before dawn when a dark car with Government plates slid into a quiet street and pulled up outside a large house. Another car – equally dark and also with Government plates waited for it. Two men got out from the vehicles, conversed for a minute before returning to the vehicle that had just arrived and opening the back door.

She wasn't surprised to be told that Agent Gibbs was waiting for her, or that he'd supervised the sweep of her house – which was secure. She barely acknowledged the news that her detail was keeping a car outside tonight; under the circumstances she'd expected her personal security to be tightened. But she'd hoped for a little longer before coming face to face with Gibbs.

He was sitting on the steps outside the front door, a coffee cup in his hand. He looked up at her approach, nodding a greeting to the agent at her shoulder. "Need a refill for that?" She asked, glancing towards the cup as she opened the door and held it open for him.

"Got any bourbon?"

"You know where it is."

He poured the drinks, listening to the quiet murmur of her voice as she conversed with her security detail, finally hearing the sound of the front door closing and holdong a glass out to her as she stepped into the study. She paused to turn on a lamp before accepting it and he understood her reluctance to stay in the darkness tonight. "Did you go home at all Jethro?"

"I worked on the boat for a while, thought you might want some company."

"I don't know what I want," she said the words so quietly he wasn't sure he was supposed to have heard them. But it wasn't exactly a surprise that given some time to think and with the knowledge that the world wasn't about to end, she'd come to her senses. Or come up with a whole list of reasons why they couldn't just tumble headlong into a relationship. He decided to let her off the hook – for now.

"So, who saved the day?"

"It was a joint effort," she thought about what she knew, what she wished she didn't know and what she couldn't tell him. "Just a little too close for comfort. Next time..." she shrugged, hating that she was already thinking about that possibility.

"You need some rest," he told her gently. "It's been a long night."

"A lot's happened," she met his gaze and they both knew she wasn't just talking about the security alert. "I could use some time to process it."

He'd needed to see her – hadn't wanted the first time they came face to face to be in her office, with other people around them. But there was time now, he knew what he wanted and he wouldn't push her; he could bide his time. Only not indefinitely.

She swirled the liquid around in the glass, watching as he finished his drink in a long swallow. She didn't know if she could do this again; she was terrified that they'd find out it had just been the intensity of the moment. Or that she'd make him unhappy. But she wasn't sure she wanted him to go.

He seemed reluctant to leave; though after a moment of thought he turned down the refill she offered. Instead he told her a little about the cold case the team had started to look into. And still they lingered – neither of them ready to make a definitive move to saying goodnight.

When she set her empty glass down on the desk he knew he should call it a night and let her get some rest. "I'll see you later," he told her, knowing how lucky they were to have the chance for one more try, to have a 'later' to look forward to. She followed him out into the hall, reaching for the door. "You'll lock the door after I leave?"

"Goodnight Jethro."

And he should have left then.

He reached for her hand – echoing their brief touch from hours before – only this time she wasn't walking away and as he pressed their palms together she looked up at him. And still he might have left, except that when he lifted their entwined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to their fingertips she sighed softly, her eyes closing for a moment as emotions washed over her face.

He breathed her name as he reached for her – drawing her towards him and pressing her back into the door. Her lips parted under his, their kiss soft, slow, full of yearning. With some reluctance he pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers, heart pounding, wanting her more than he'd wanted a woman in years. "I should go." But instead of releasing her he pressed his lips to her jaw, to her throat. She arched her neck to give him better access, sliding a hand up his back.

"Stay," she said, turning her head to press her lips to his palm. "I want you to stay."

He wasn't stupid enough to argue.

She let herself get swept away by him, by the unexpected intensity that sizzled through her with his every touch. Not normally the most passive of women it was surprisingly easy to let go, to let him take control – knowing that she could trust him, that tonight he needed to lead this more than she did.

But it was far from one-sided. Her touches and caresses kept pace with his, she undressed him with the same deliberation that he undressed her, pressing her lips to the skin she exposed, touching him everywhere - perhaps to convince herself that this was really happening. That all it had taken to get them here was a major incident and the threat of destruction.

His fingers curled around her thigh, raising it to his hips and she almost told him that when she'd said she had always been fond of this door she'd never expected to be doing this against it. But the thought flickered away, too insubstantial to hold onto; overwhelmed by his lips against her throat, the push of his body into hers.

She groaned, as the heat and need overtook her. All of her senses flooded with him – the sounds they were making, her legs pressed around his waist, the smell of sex and the feel of the wood against her back. She cupped his face with her hand, kissing him in time with their movements – feeling the coiling of her stomach, knowing she was close, wanting him with her.

She breathed her encouragement into his ear and he followed her demands, letting go, pushing her over the edge, following her seconds later – his body surrendering.

They leant back against the door, a tangle of limbs; their breathing too laboured to even attempt to speak. Not that he thought they had left anything to say – surely their actions had left very little left to be interpreted by mere words. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder as his hand fumbled for hers, pressing their palms together in a gesture that had taken on enormous significance in the last few hours. And felt her smile curve against his skin.

He looked down at the clothes tangled at their feet, all he wanted to do was take her to bed – to sleep. For a moment he wavered, before deciding to hell with it and pulling her up the stairs after him, quieting her instinctive protest by squeezing her hand, which was still clasped in his, and leading the way into her bedroom.

She fell asleep first, curled into his side, her arm draped over his stomach. The circles under her eyes made him wish they could spend the day in bed, but that would have to wait, they both had to be up in a couple of hours.

He was glad that the dawn was creeping ever closer. For all the things that this night had given him, he couldn't forget how close they had come to never realising how badly they wanted this second chance. How a single twist of fate could have meant that they never found their way here. And the darkness was still out there, waiting. If the occasion warranted it he knew he'd have to let her go, as he had tonight, just as he knew she would have to send him into danger. But not for the next few hours.

She stirred a little, murmuring his name. He lifted her hand from where it rested and pressed it to his lips, before slipping down in the bed to pull her closer. He was surprised that she didn't resist, when they'd been lovers before she'd been uncomfortable about being held while she slept - always seeking space and distance. But now it seemed she was more willing to accept the reassurance of another body wrapped around hers. Perhaps because she understood what it meant to be without that sense of security.

He wondered what else had changed about her. He had the chance to find out now and he suspected he was going to enjoy this particular investigation a great deal.

The End