Disclaimer I don't own NCIS or the song

Authors note This is for Meg, as she is such a lovely person who is always there to help me with all of my stories, and anything I'm stuck with. So, this is for you, and I hope you like it! You're a brilliant friend and writer, and I'm lucky to have you.

I hope everyone likes this; it is inspired by the song 'Where I sleep' by emeli sande, and is set back in the day – PURE FLUFF

"There's nowhere that I wouldn't follow,
there's nothing that I won't do for your kiss,
I'll love you like there's no tomorrow,
Cause nothing never felt like this"

-Emeli Sande, Where I Sleep

Jenny Shepard was tired. Her feet ached, her eyes left as though they were currently having pins pricked in them, and her whole body was shaking with chills. To say that her day had been bad was an understatement; to say that her week had been disastrous was more like it. They had started the week with a new case, which then lead to a three day stake out. However, it seemed that someone had it in for her, and she had been stuck in a room the size of a cupboard with none other than Stan Burley for three days. Every time he took his turn and she started to drift off to sleep he would do something to wake her up claiming he was bored.

After three days with no running water, no change of clothes and no sleep she'd finally spotted their suspect. However that had lead to a two mile chase – on foot – in the pouring rain. When she had finally caught up with him he'd decided to put up a fight. She'd ended up sat in autopsy, in a pair of NCIS sweats and a hoodie whilst Ducky put stitches above her eye where the guy had wacked her with face of his watch.

On top of that, she hadn't seen her lover and partner since she returned to head quarters as he had been sat in a meeting with the SecNav. What had been even more depressing to find out was that when she returned from autopsy to write out her incident report he had already left for the day. So, as she walked into her George Town house, to sat she was irritated was an understatement.

She pulled off her gym shoes which she had taken out of her locker after deciding that she looked like an idiot in heels and sweats. Then she padded barefoot into the kitchen when she heard a noise. Slowly, she grabbed her gun out of her bag and made her way into the office where she heard the noise coming from.

As she entered she had her gun drawn and finger on the trigger ready to shoot. Then she saw him. Sat in his work clothes, on the couch, with the fire lit drinking her bourbon. Then he smirked and she groaned. "What the hell do you think you are doing?!" She demanded. "I nearly shot you!" She almost shouted as she left the room and headed to the kitchen. After a week living on take out she had decided she wanted some proper food.

"Nah Jen, you wouldn't have shot me." HE said as he got up off of the couch and followed her into the kitchen. She turned and glared at him as she pulled out a bag of dried pasta and almost threw enough for two people into the pan before filling it with water and slamming it down on the hob, then turning it on.

"Oh really?! How did you get in here anyway?!"

"Spare key." He said with a smirk, watching as she rolled her eyes and opened a jar of sauce, placing that into another pan. As she went out of the kitchen to get herself some bourbon he smirked. He'd never thought that he would ever see the day when he saw Jenny Shepard doing something domestic, especially in a kitchen.

They had been together for a few months now; ever since they'd broken the tension in Marseille they had barely been able to keep their hands off of one another. When she came back in minutes later, she looked more relaxed. So much so she walked over and fell into his arms. He just hugged her back, knowing that the week had been hard on her. She pulled back slightly and looked up at him. Her bright green iris' slightly dulled by tiredness still sparkled as she looked at him. He smiled at the sight of her home and safe, something he'd been worried about.

It wasn't that he was scared that she and Stan would be found, but that they would kill one another. She and Burley didn't get on particularly well at the best of times, he pushed his look too often and she bit back at him. So the thought of the pair of them being cooped up in one room for three days filled him with dread. "I wouldn't have shot you." She said softly, and he knew that was her way of saying sorry for being an awkward cow. He just laughed and placed his lips softly and tentatively onto hers. The kiss was short, but sweat and just was she needed pulling back she walked over to the pan and decided that the paste was ready; she went to grab two bowls before spooning the meal out. Then, she grabbed two forks and passed one to him.

"Is it edible?" He asked with a small smirk. She laughed and slapped his arm.

"I am not eating take out again!" Jenny stated before making her way into the office and sitting with her back against the sofa. They ate in relative silence, Jenny slowly but surely beginning to warm up and relax. When they'd finished Jethro pulled her into him, and she looked up, smiling softly.

The fire flickered softly, casting shadows onto her pale skin. Softly he captured her lips again and she laughed, as she felt the alcohol taking action on her tiredness. She then kissed him back, but as they parted he saw her eyes begin to droop. So, he picked her up and carried her to bed. She was fast asleep before he'd even slipped under the covers to join her.

When Monday morning came back around, Jenny was back in her skinny trousers, silk blouse and stilettos, the bright red gash on her head going down. And when she walked into the bull pen she wore a smile, feeling a heck of a lot more resilient to Stan's tricks. "Alright Red! You look like the cat that got the cream . . . or was it more under the sheets for you?" Stan asked as soon as she walked in.

Jenny passed a glance to Gibbs and groaned; maybe that resilience was not going to last half as long as she had hoped. And maybe, she needed the weekend all over again, already. "Grit your teeth and bare it Jen, I'll see you tonight." Gibbs whispered in her ear as he went for coffee.

Or maybe she didn't need the weekend; maybe she just needed the evening?

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