NCIS 1. Chapter 1

Author: Morgan72uk

Rating: T

Summary: You make lots of choices in life - some of them simple, others less so. It's not always clear which is which.

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, don't have any money - and I probably shouldn't be doing this.

A/N - I don't entirely know where this came from - I really wanted to write some Jibbs fluff and I'm not sure this is it, exactly. But maybe it's as close as I can get given how complicated their relationship is.

**Choices**

Should she or shouldn't she? She touched the delicate fabric with her fingertips – definitely tempted by what was only slightly more than a scrap of very expensive green silk. Designer lingerie was one of her weaknesses and trips to Paris had been thin on the ground lately. But, she was supposed to be buying a book and she had already left it late in the day to find what she was looking for. Slipping away from her desk for a hurried hour of Saturday afternoon shopping had proved to be difficult. She glanced at her watch and decided that she had time. Maybe the green was too much – she spotted the same garment in ivory and turned to look at it, the movement halted by the sound of her name.

"Director Shepard?" Well, that was the price you paid for indecision – DC was a fishbowl at the best of times and the Director of NCIS wasn't sure she wanted her shopping to be the topic of gossip. She fixed a smile, preparing to pretend not to mind the interruption and turned in the direction of the voice. Almost at once she realised that there wasn't going to be any gossip – although that didn't mean the situation was without complications.

"Colonel Mann," her smile of recognition was genuine, "fancy bumping into you here." This was a very expensive, very exclusive store, where she was a regular patron. She knew passers by couldn't easily see inside – so, that raised the question of what Hollis was doing here. But she wasn't going to ask her that; anymore than Hollis would ask her what she was shopping for. Not right now anyway.

"Well, I recognised the security detail."

Jen glanced past her companion to where Hector was standing stoically watching her – and everyone else who got close. He hadn't been delighted by her choice of shopping destination, but he was far too much of a professional to let it show; though he was probably hoping she wasn't planning on trying anything on. And, as uncomfortable as he might be right now, she imagined he was very relieved he at least had the excuse of being responsible for a woman's security. Watching over one of her male peers in this situation would be a lot more awkward.

"Do you have time for a coffee?" She asked, the impulse surprising her. But though Hollis looked equally surprised, she accepted with alacrity and before she had time to really think about what she had done, Jen found herself settling into the corner of a small coffee shop with a former Army Colonel for company – and Hector trying to look discrete in the corner. Only in DC would this pass for almost normal.

She hadn't spent that much time with the woman opposite her – but, though the circumstances had been less than ideal, they'd somehow got along. She certainly wasn't averse to a catch up over coffee, even though the catching up might involve a little treading with care. But she was used to that.

Hollis had retired from the Army several months before, having turned down an invitation to join NCIS – a decision that Jen understood; though at the time it had disappointed her. But it was interesting to listen to her describe her adjustment to civilian life – and having just embarked on a PhD gave her a whole new window on the world. Listening to her recount her experiences Jen realised with a pang just how little she had to talk about in exchange. Her world pretty much revolved around the agency and while plenty had been going on there; very little of it could be shared with someone who wasn't a NCIS agent and didn't have the appropriate security clearance.

Since other, more personal, subjects were very definitely off-limits she found herself describing her recent appearance before a Senate Committee. The hearing had been extensively covered in the media – but this description was more, personal and she was relaxed enough to throw in some decidedly sardonic observations about some of her fellow witnesses.

"You don't miss interviewing suspects?" She asked, returning to the subject of what the other woman was doing now.

"This involves a different type of interviewing, same skills more or less." Hollis took a sip of her coffee, her expression faltering for a moment, "and I needed the change."

"Sometimes the only thing you can do is make a clean break," Jen offered, remembering some of the decisions she'd made and where they had led her.

"You'd find it hard to walk away from your agency," and, though it was true, it wasn't that simple.

"I would – but it could still happen. I'm vulnerable to politics, to changes in policy, personnel – and in the end the buck for everything we do stops at my door."

"And what then?" It wasn't something she thought about very often, but there were moments when Jen couldn't help but play her very own version of 'anywhere but here'.

"Well," she took sip of her coffee, imagining herself in a situation that would probably cause her a great deal of pain. "I don't think I'm cut out for a Ph.D., so if the worst happened, a little private consulting, some travel, take some time to work out what I want to do next."

"From a beach in the Caribbean?"

"Or a street café in Paris." The two women shared a smile and lapsed into a surprisingly comfortable silence, until Hollis asked the question that Jen had been expecting her to ask, sooner or later.

"How's Jethro?"

"Well, you know Jethro - unco-operative, difficult, pushing his team, annoying other agencies."

"Pretty much the same as usual then?" Jen smiled and drank some more of her coffee before answering that. Perhaps she shouldn't have made it sound as though he had bounced back from the end of the relationship so easily. But, going into more detail would have led her down a path she knew was much better avoided.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out between the two of you." She offered, hoping it was a safe alternative.

"Are you?" There was no malice in Hollis' expression, but before Jen could quite decide how to answer that she let her off the hook. "It's all right Director – it wasn't your fault, and it's water under the bridge now anyway."

"You sure about that?" The softness in her expression, the tone of her voice – this was a woman not yet over the end of a love affair. And why should she be? After all it had only been a few months. Jen knew better than anyone what it took to get Leroy Jethro Gibbs out of your system.

"More or less," she drained her cup, "I should let you get on – I'm sure you don't have much time."

"It was good to see you," Jen was surprised by how much she meant that – in different circumstances she thought they might have had a shot at becoming friends.

"You too," Hollis got to her feet and then paused, "Director, can I give you a piece of advice, before I go?"

"Of course,"

"Buy the green silk - I think Jethro will like it a lot." Though she was surprised by the comment Jen was far too good at her job, far too experienced a dissembler to let that show.

"What makes you think he has any say in the matter?" Hollis tilted her head and seemed to be considering her words. It wasn't entirely a surprise when she didn't answer the question.

"Another piece of advice, this one not about what you should buy and who for. The fact that you can read him so well, that you can see things in him long before others can – he needs that, it's part of the reason he'll never quite let you go. Believe me, if it had just been about the hair colour, I'd have dyed mine in a second." And this time she did walk away, leaving Jen to gaze into the dregs of her coffee, thinking about what she'd said, and about green silk lingerie.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - Thanks for the reviews. My desire for some Jibbs fluff seems to have grown into something slightly more - though I am trying to keep it fluffy.

**Choices - part 2**

It was slightly complicated to open the back door without dropping her shopping and Jen was grateful when the door yielded and she could stumble into the kitchen, depositing her parcels onto the table. She'd gone out to buy a book – how had she ended up with significantly more than that?

Inevitably, there was a pot of coffee already brewed and she leant against the counter as she poured herself a cup. She should have been calculating how late she was running, but in fact she was still thinking about that earlier conversation.

Seeing Jethro with Hollis over the months of their relationship had made her jealous at times; an emotion she may or may not have successfully kept to herself. When that relationship had started to quietly unravel, she'd only been able to stand by and watch. She hadn't been disinterested enough in the outcome to offer him support or friendship. Once it had become clear that it was over, she'd forced herself to think about what she really wanted and made the decision that she wasn't enough of a fool to let him get away again.

But that decision was only half the battle. Hollis hadn't been able to make him happy; despite having a far more balanced personality and being able to stand up to him without making it a power play. Jen wasn't sure she could say the same about her own response to their disagreements and no one who knew her would ever describe her as well balanced. Driven, relentless people did not make good partners – especially for each other.

Though it was a little late to worry about that now.

"Did you find the book?" Jethro emerged from the staircase to the basement, wiping his hands on a cloth. He hadn't changed, so either the dress code for this evening included jeans and a T-shirt or she wasn't the only one running late.

"Eventually," she decided not to mention her impromptu coffee date and instead gestured to the parcels on the table, "I picked up a couple of other things as well." When she'd left his team had been in the final stages of a case, elbow deep in paperwork. He hadn't exactly been thrilled at the idea of the party, so she'd been half expecting some urgent case to intervene and was a little surprised that he hadn't used the excuse. "Have you been back long?"

"About an hour. The report's on your desk, but I'll save you some time, we got him. He confessed when Ziva and Tony questioned him."

"Thanks – but I think I'll read the report just the same." He shrugged and they gazed at each other for a moment; she could almost feel the gears shifting as they moved from the professional to the personal.

The last three days had given them few opportunities to see each other, much less spend any time alone together. Their second attempt at a relationship was very new and they were still trying to find some separation between the varying and conflicting facets of their lives. The Director really wasn't supposed to be involved with one of her agents; so secrecy and discretion were good things. But, they also made it difficult to be open and affectionate when they didn't have to worry about anyone else seeing them.

The transition apparently made he reached for her, pulling her towards him. She went into his arms easily, tilting her head back to receive the hard little kiss he placed on her mouth. "Hi," she murmured – enjoying a moment of not being the Director.

He didn't say anything, just looked at her with a small smile before leaning down to kiss her again; a slow, lingering kiss that ended with her just a little breathless - which was probably what he'd intended.

Reaching around her he picked through the packages she'd left on the table, "what else did you buy?" He found the bottle of wine and Italian chocolates she'd brought to add to her gift and then gestured towards a small bag with lilac tissue paper peeping out of the top, raising an eyebrow when he saw the exclusive label. "Is this for Ducky as well?" Inevitably, it was the one purchase she had been hoping he wouldn't notice.

"No," she slapped his hand away, "that's for me and possibly for you – later."

"If I'm good?" He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye; feeling just a little wicked.

"Or if you're bad."

"Jen," his voice was a low rumble that promised all sorts of things they didn't have time for.

"We're going to be late, I need to get changed – and so do you." And, just so he knew part of what she was going to be changing into, she picked up the bag in question and carried it upstairs with her.

* * *

The party had been Abby's idea. She'd decided that this year, whether he agreed or not, they were going to celebrate Ducky's birthday. And since it was Abby, no one, not even Ducky, had been able to refuse her. So, here they were – a small, select gathering of the agency's finest and a lot of alcohol. 

Under normal circumstances the Director might have politely declined the invitation, worried about feeling out of place. But it turned out she wasn't any better at saying 'no' to Abby than anyone else and she had known Dr Mallard for a long time – longer than most of the people here in fact.

It would have been far too obvious to arrive with Jethro, especially when she had a driver and security detail she wasn't supposed to stray far from. But, now that she was here she'd sent the car away for the rest of the night and with any luck, no one would think twice about Jethro driving her home. If it turned out that the only place they drove to was his house; well, no one but the two of them – and her security detail - would know about that.

She was wearing green silk under a dark dress and boots; the dress was relaxed, casual – the lingerie anything but. It made her feel sexy and decadent, the contrast amusing her; one more thing that she was keeping secret.

"Director," she smiled as the guest of honour approached and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

"Happy birthday, Ducky." He shook his head – sighing in the manner of a man who wasn't sure what all the fuss was about.

"I am not certain what there is to celebrate in finding that one has become a year older."

"There's nothing wrong with taking a moment to appreciate the people around us, letting them know how important they are," she responded quietly. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm sure it will be business as usual tomorrow – so, enjoy the moment and the presents while you can." He nodded in acknowledgement of her point,

"About those presents – how did you find out I was looking for that particular volume?" Her gaze travelled the room – coming to rest on Abby, who was deep in conversation with Gibbs.

"A little bird might have told me about that," Ducky's chuckle told her he had identified the 'little bird' in question without difficulty.

"Well, thank you my dear, it's much appreciated."

"You're very welcome." He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially,

"And, since it is my party I have a request. Just for tonight, no hiding things?" It took her a moment, but then she realised he wasn't looking at Abby anymore and it became clear what he was referring to. He smiled, "you're among friends here." She sighed, first Hollis and now Ducky, just how secret was this secret relationship anyway?

"It's complicated Ducky."

"Jennifer," he took her hand, squeezing it with his own. He hardly ever used her first name – so she knew whatever he was going to say would be serious. "I think it's as complicated or as simple as you chose to make it."

But was it complicated or simple? She still felt guilty about the way she'd all but thrown herself at Jethro. Remembering the expression on Hollis' face she wondered if things had really been over between them, irrevocably over, when she'd intervened. Had she prevented them from working things out? But, even if she had there was no going back now. Why had she thought that finding her way back into Jethro's life would be the complicated part?

A glass of wine helped and looking up to find him watching her was a salient reminder that she wasn't in this alone; giving her that little extra confidence. Reaching his side she discretely brushed her fingertips across the back of his hand. It was meant to be just a quick touch, but before she could pull away he surprised her by threading their hands together as he carried on talking to Abby.

It took Abby all of thirty seconds to realise there was something different about them and another ten to recognise what the 'something' was. Her eyes went wide as she realised they were standing closer together than normal and when she saw their hands she practically bounced, "oh wow," she blurted out.

"Abs," Gibbs chided gently, "we're trying to keep this at least a little quiet."

"I won't say a word, I promise." She grinned at them, adding "though people might notice – you are in a room full of trained investigators."

"She has a point," Jen said, leaning just a little closer to him.

"She does." Abby had already retreated to another corner of the room, where she was talking to McGee. Ducky was surrounded by a small group of people; Tony and Ziva were squabbling or flirting – walking that narrow line. No one was really paying attention to the two of them. His lips brushed her temple, another careful, discrete touch that could, just, have been accidental.

"So," he asked, "what brought this on?" She almost pointed out that he was the one who'd taken her hand, but she was distracted by the realisation that he wouldn't have done that, unless he'd wanted Abby to know.

"Ducky told me he didn't want things to be hidden tonight."

"I think he's wrong about that," she was confused – his voice was neutral but his eyes had darkened in a way she recognised. "There are some things that definitely need to be kept hidden – at least until we're in private." She risked a glance up at him, enjoying the boost to her ego from the flicker of desire in his eyes. He trailed a finger along her spine, knowing her weaknesses very well. She considered retaliating – because he had weaknesses of his own that she was more than capable of exploiting. But there was being slightly less discrete than normal and there was being blatant.

"You should behave," she murmured.

"Are you sure?" His grin was rapid and far too smug. Remembering what she'd said earlier, about him being bad, she suddenly realised that she could be in a lot of trouble here. Or not.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A/N- Thanks for the reviews. I sort of worked out that this story is about making choices and then living with them. Or something along those lines. Anyway, probably not something to dwell on too much - I'm just glad I found a way to write some Jibbs fluff.

**Choices – 3**

She lay on her side, watching through half-closed eyes as Jethro padded quietly around the bedroom, picking up clothes scattered across the floor; evidence of a progress to bed that might best be characterised as hurried. Had he instigated that progression, or had she? Did it really matter? The tension between them had been building all evening, as soon as they'd been alone together the explosion had been inevitable. It was, she thought, something of a miracle that they'd made it to bed.

The rest of Ducky's birthday party hadn't been particularly eventful. They'd circulated separately – finding their way back to each other once or twice, watching each other across the room more often. If anyone else had noticed their changed dynamic then they were wise enough to keep those observations to themselves.

The evening had been more enjoyable than she'd expected and not just because they'd been more open with each other than they usually were in public. The group was a close one and it had been a pleasure to watch them interact, to be a part of their interactions. She had even managed to be amused when McGee and Ducky had started telling stories about some of DiNozzo's finest exploits – since the incidents in question had taken place well before she became Director.

The party had still been in full swing when they had slipped unobtrusively away; she suspected Ducky hadn't begrudged them the early exit.

Jethro reached for his shirt and as he retrieved it a flash of green caught her eye; so at least she knew what had happened to the new lingerie she'd been wearing earlier. His half grin was, she hoped, related to a pleasant memory. He'd certainly seemed to like it - undressing her carefully, sliding the final layer away with control and intent. And then pouncing on her with such passion and urgency that it made her blush thinking about it. Although Jethro might not always say a great deal, he had ways of making his appreciation clear - and tonight he had been extremely appreciative.

Sobering slightly she realised that Hollis had been right when she'd said he would like the green silk and then wished she hadn't remembered where that particular piece of advice had come from. She still hadn't decided whether to say anything about her encounter with his former lover.

He looked up and their eyes met, "I thought you were asleep,"

"Not quite," she was definitely feeling sleepy but he was still pottering around the room and when she was sharing a bed with someone she preferred to fall asleep with them actually in the bed beside her.

"You're staying?" She didn't always – between her schedule and his it was sometimes easier to go home.

"I told the car to come for me at 6," he dropped the clothes on a chair, crossing the room to finally get back into bed with her.

"You don't sleep enough," he commented, pressing his lips to her shoulder. She curled into his side and didn't argue, pointing out instead,

"I'm not the only one."

There were times when she wondered if she had the energy or the passion for something this complicated. Running the agency was demanding and absorbing, did she really want to have to work equally hard over a relationship? Or, did being older mean that she knew the hard work was necessary – especially when it came to Jethro?

The things she'd thirsted for 10 years before were hers now – attaining them meant something; a mark of her character, even if that character wasn't always easy. Holding onto the agency was challenging; holding onto Jethro was challenging – sometimes she doubted her ability to do both and wondered which she would choose if the moment came when such a choice was required of her.

But she wasn't going to think about this, not now when she was in his arms, when Ducky and Abby had been happy for them and they'd got through the week without confrontations.

"Go to sleep Jen," He murmured quietly.

She was lying in her lover's arms, listening to his heart beat, feeling content and a little drowsy. In this rare moment of peace, did she really want to raise the spectre of past failed relationships? Unfortunately the person she was made the answer to that inevitable. "I bumped into Hollis this afternoon," she said, "while I was shopping." He'd been absently stroking her hair and the only sign that he'd heard her was a slight hesitation in the movement of his hand.

"She OK?" He asked,

"I'm not sure," she wasn't going to lie to him – but she didn't know Hollis well enough to really judge how she was. "She said she needed the fresh start." He was silent for a moment, although the hand that had been stroking her hair moved to slide up and down her spine; a long, slow caress that had an eloquence of its own. She would never admit it, but when he touched her like this her concentration was pretty much shot to pieces.

"It wasn't your fault," he said at last, "it was over, had been over for weeks. And you weren't the reason things didn't work out, that was down to us - me." He was probably right she decided. And even if he wasn't – she wanted him to be. "Although the seducing, that was definitely you,"

"I did not…"

"Yeah – you did," she buried her head in the pillow – because he was right, though she'd prefer not to be reminded of the fact. She still wasn't sure how she'd worked up the courage to make a move and when she thought about the possible sexual harassment suit she'd risked she wanted to slap herself on the back of the head. "We were in the elevator and,"

"I know," she put her hand over his mouth, "I was there." There was that expression again – the smug grin, the twinkle in his eyes. She loved it, but it drove her crazy as well and it definitely wasn't good for him to get the last word all the time. She rubbed a thumb over his lips and made sure her voice was just a little lower than normal, "but let's face it, I really didn't have to try that hard."

"You're complaining about that?" OK, so the whole getting the last word was clearly wishful thinking, but she knew there were other ways to get him to shut up.

She gazed into his eyes, thinking about Hollis who'd lost him, about all those ex-wives and about Shannon – who he had lost. What advice would they offer to the woman in his bed now?

"Jenny?" she'd been quiet for too long, watching him in the faint light from the street outside, her fingertips brushing over his cheek.

"It's OK," she whispered back, adding, "actually it's more than OK."

"I know," this was probably as much either of them was prepared to say about their feelings and right now she wasn't worried about the evasion. The spectre of other moments of failure rose within her – but she'd learnt which battles to fight and how to pick her tactics.

She turned, drawing him with her to settle against her back – his arm curved over her hip, their legs tangling together. As Director she made choices all the time – weighing the options, balancing the consequences, accepting the risks. This was no different, except that the risk was hers. Jethro tightened his hold on her, just for a moment, and she remembered that he had made a choice as well, the risk equally his. If she didn't trust herself, perhaps she should allow herself to trust him? Although the concept of trusting him on this might take a little getting used to.

She closed her eyes, letting her mind relax along with her body; it had been a good day - a little strange in parts - the ending though, that had been spectacular. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

The End


End file.
