Note: Set after Hiatus; Gibbs had been "away" after his coma and his time in the hospital, but there had been no Margarita Safari.

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As soon as he had opened the door to the bathroom, there was a flash of memories in his mind. The first day after he had been allowed to left the hospital. The first day he had been allowed to leave this building after his coma. The day she had taken him home with her, to take care of him. And he hadn't even protested. She had been talking to Ducky before, and they had come to the agreement that they couldn't leave him alone, that they couldn't let him shift for himself. So Ducky had driven him to her house, even though he had protested. When she had arrived home some hours later, he still had been there, a bit to her surprise; a part of her had feared he could leave, due to his stubbornness, she later had told him.

It had been a strange evening for both of them. It had been strange that he had remembered the time in her house while he had forgotten so many other things. It had been strange to be with her in her house after all that had happened. After he had nearly died, after she had fought for him, with him, because she hadn't wanted to let him go. They both had changed; they had been forced to admit now what they had been trying to hide, to mask behind their friendship.

That there were still feelings for each other.

He remembered the thought haunting him the whole evening.

They hadn't been much of exchanging words in this first evening. She had seen how weak he still was, and had made him follow her upstairs. She had made his bed in the guest bedroom, as usual, and then drawn a bath for him. He could still smell the essential oils she had added to the water. They are revitalizing, she had told him; then she had ordered him to get into the bathtub. And he had followed her order after she had left the room.

He had taken off his clothes and glided into the hot water. He couldn't remember a moment in his life he had felt more relaxed. It had been so pleasantly, so soothing.

A knock on the door had made him look up; after a few moments, he had heard Jen's voice through the door.

"May I come in?" she had asked, and then stepped into the bathroom after he had given his permission.

She had given him a small smile when she had seen him sitting there, with masses of foam around him that left out only his head. Silently, she had laid some towels and a pair of pajamas on a chair that stood in the bathroom; then she had turned to leave. But he hadn't wanted her to leave.

He had called her back when she had already been half through the door, and told her that he would like her to stay - if she didn't mind. And she hadn't. She had sat on the chair and started to talk; to tell him of everything he might have wanted to know after he had lost his memory. She had told him so many things, mostly the nice and funny ones, and he had listened to her soothing, calming voice that had, although he had forgotten so much, been so familiar.

Eventually, she had started massaging his neck and shoulders, first with a sponge, then with her hands, trying to ease his tense muscles. It had been good that he had been so exhausted; otherwise he possibly would have pulled her into the tub and made love to her right there. But he simply had been too weak. His satisfied humming had made her giggle, what had him, in turn, made look up, lying his head in back, looking right into her beautiful green eyes.

There had been a long moment of silence, like someone had stopped the world from turning. They had stared at each other; eyes locked, breathe held, tension nearly tangible. After what had felt like an eternity, she had pulled away her hands that had still been lying on his shoulders.

"Take your time to get ready; meanwhile I'll air the guest room; some fresh air will be good for you. But don't leave the window open during the night, it might get too cold," she had told him, her voice shaking a bit, then she had left the bathroom, not even drying her hands.

He had gotten out of the tub, toweling thoroughly, and remembered the gentle touch on his shoulders that had seemed to be still present. His mind had been filled with so many thoughts, and yet it had felt blank. He had looked into the mirror that was hanging above the sink, sizing up his face, his features, and his scars.

Everything has changed. He remembered that this had been the only clear thought he had been able to form.

Somewhat resigned, he had put on the pajamas, and gone to his room. His room. Jenny had been nowhere to be seen. Obviously, she had fled to her bedroom, to avoid meeting him again in this evening, and had known all too well why - and that it had been a good decision in some way.

No matter what, this evening had been special. It had been the beginning.

The beginning of something that never should have ended.

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