Note: Please note that the rating has increased - this part is rated M – so children beware!!

This is my "first time", I've never written such a scene as detailed as this one is. So many thanks to Verity for Beta reading, and for checking if everything is "okay" :)

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There was only one room left. He was standing in front of the door, his hand on the door handle, but it took him a good while to open the door. Everything here was as they had left it a few days ago; the night before she had left for Los Angeles.

And it was also as he had gotten to know it when he had stepped into this room two years ago to change both their lives...

--

He had lost his sense of time, but he could have sworn that it had been hours he had thrown himself around in his bed now, his mind filled with thoughts which didn't let him sleep. So many things had happened in the past days. Things that made him question if they were going to be able to pretend that they were still only colleagues and friends.

Groaning, he pushed back the blanket and got up. He left the room and knew exactly where to go. Not to the kitchen this time. And not for a walk. Only one destination was left. The only one that would make sense to go to.

It was around eleven in the evening and she had been lying awake for an hour now, thinking, musing. Things were getting more complicated with every day Gibbs was in her house. Although she was at work the whole day, although they weren't seeing each other much, it affected her - and she knew it affected him, too. Two days before, they had met in the middle of the night in her kitchen because they'd gotten thirsty just at the same time. They had been standing in front of each other for half an eternity, staring at the other in the faint light of the moon shining through the window.

Some sounds behind her bedroom door caught her attention. She waited; she knew who it was and that he would enter anyway. And she knew why.

"Jen?" he whispered when he opened the door, "Jen, you're still awake?"

"Yes, Jethro. Come in," she responded. Slowly he walked over to her bed, stopping where he would be not too close to her to intimidate her or her personal space. There was a moment of silence; then she sighed and got up. "Okay. I know why you're here and I know that we...," she started before she realized that he was staring at her unconcealed. "Jethro? What..."

She was wearing only a short, thin nightdress. God, Jen, you also could wear nothing and it wouldn't make any difference!, Her mind screamed, and she felt her face redden.

"I think we need to talk...," Gibbs finally said, his voice low - and thick with longing. She didn't even get the chance to take a breath for an answer; he just grabbed her, pulled her against him and kissed her.

They didn't think about it; they simply fell onto the bed and forgot everything. They spent minutes with kissing, to renew the feel for each other; then Jethro rolled them both over so Jen was on top, and let her sit up.

The skin of her delicate body, barely covered, was shimmering in the silver moonlight; her light red hair, with some locks curled around her face, made her look like an angel; she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Seven years - and she had lost nothing of it.

He gently lifted her nightwear and she willingly helped him to pull it over her head. He had never expected to have butterflies flying around wildly in his stomach again, but right now, they were taking possession of his belly. His hands caressed her body, touching every millimeter he was able to reach from his position, while Jen was just sitting on his legs, slightly leaned forward, and watching him; her eyes speaking of passion and happiness and - love.

As he had done with her piece of clothing, she too helped him to lose his shirt, falling into his arms and against his strong body as soon as it was gone. She was holding onto him, not willing to let go of him, and not willing to miss his arms that wound around her nearly naked body to hold her closely, protectively.

Holding her was more than he ever would have dared to wish for, and he was savoring the moment more than anything else; yet his body longed for more, and he knew that Jen felt it, too, when she carefully pulled herself from his embrace, and sat up again.

Next thing he knew was that his brain was calling off duty when she started kissing down his body; and she didn't miss a spot. She knew exactly where she needed to place more fierce kisses, where to suck or bite slightly; where to tickle him a bit. She hadn't forgotten how to increase his arousal, how to make him will-less, and senseless.

But he hadn't either.

Just before she got the chance pull off his pajama bottoms, he regained his senses, turned tables and rolled them over, quickly pinning her hands above her head. She giggled; she hadn't expected to still fall for this old trick. He joined in and laughed quietly, remembering all the times he had done this to her all those years ago when they had been undercover. Every time she had wanted to bring him over the edge with her actions; but being the only one to feel the pleasure hadn't been enough for him. It just had been much different to enjoy it with her; much better.

He had lost his ability to direct her to her height of pleasure just as little as she had. He hadn't forgotten what made her sigh, moan, gasp, and scream; and when to stop to make her groan with frustration due to the loss of his touch.

It was quite a torture for her, him kissing her as she had him before; never missing a single spot. Gently he nuzzled her neck, placed open-mouthed kissed on the soft skin of the curve of her neck, made her sigh with pleasure. She moaned when his mouth found her breasts, as did his hands when they released their hold on Jen's wrists. Those hands that then grazed her body, tickled her belly, and finally wandered lower to her hips, where his thumbs leisurely drew circles on her hipbone, before he moved his hands further into the direction she wanted them to. His actions made her gasp when he finally reached for the waistband of her panties, hooking his fingers under it, but never pulling it down. While his mouth still worked wonders on her upper body, his hands played with the last piece of clothing she was wearing, making her wriggle underneath him, trying to guide his hands where she wanted them to be, but he was relentless, holding her fast, her thighs caught between his legs.

She still had a card up in her non-present sleeve. While she let one hand wander to his shoulder and then around his neck, the other slowly went down to his waist, up and down his back to finally land on his lower back. She didn't take her time now, but immediately slipped her hand under his pajama bottoms, and her fingernails going over the skin of his buttock with light pressure brought her his attention.

"Don't, Jenny," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Then stop that," she responded, her voice also barely a whisper.

He didn't let himself please. Quickly, he freed her from her panties, and she did the same with his pants. The clothes landed somewhere in the room, carelessly thrown away.

She pulled his head down for a kiss, and so at first didn't notice that his hand found its way to her hips again, then directing straight to her center, till he reached this one certain bundle of nerves that would make wax in his hands of her. She squealed in surprise and lust when he finally touched it and one finger plunged into her at the same time, testing her. Not that he had expected her to be not ready.

Though he did good to distract her, her hands nevertheless weren't resting, but gliding from his butt around to caress and stimulate him. Successfully.

He couldn't take any more. He wanted to feel her, to feel that this actually wasn't a dream, so he let himself fall next to her, pulled her above him, and she straddled him willingly, but still not connected with him. With her hands lying on his chest to support her, she leaned forward and kissed him passionately; then she lowered herself onto him. Her fingers dug into his flesh; just as his grip on her hips tightened. Being one again after such a long time was more than an indescribable sensation. They still fit perfectly, and being joined was already a pleasure, even though they kept perfectly still.

She took her time before she started to move her hips, slowly, a bit teasingly. And he, too, thrust upwards, carefully at first, but soon his arousal took over, made him thrust harder, trying to get deeper into her, while she also was moving her hips faster, meeting his thrusts, matching his movements, trying to get as much as she could of him.

He could feel the tension building up rapidly, as he could tell she could feel it, too, coming closer to the edge. Suddenly he sat up, his body crashing against hers, the unexpected movement stimulating her now highly sensitive flesh and nerves even more, making her scream out her pleasure when she reached her climax, her muscles contracting around him. He held her so tight that for the blink of an eye the thought that he might crush her crossed his mind, but because she was holding him as tight as he held her, he didn't gave it any further notice. His brain was totally caught up in the fact that she was still moving her hips, until he, too, fell over the edge with one last, forceful thrust into her.

Clinging to each other, they fell back to the bed, her lying on top of him, both breathing heavily, their sweat covered bodies glistening in the moonlight that now seemed to shine even brighter.

They needed a few minutes to be capable of any clear thought. When Jen lifted her head slowly, she was met by Jethro's eyes that were full of tenderness and affection, and she felt tears rising up.

"I love you, Jenny," he said, then reached with his mouth for her lips, kissing her gently, lovingly; there was nothing erotic in this kiss, it was only a tender touch of lips for the woman he loved. When they parted, she watched him for a moment, tears and something like doubt in her eyes, what made him unsure; till he heard her words.

"I can't believe that I get a second chance," she told him quietly. Then she fell back into his embrace, whispering "I love you so much." in his ear, with a voice full of tears.

From this day on, they had been happy; happier than they had ever expected to become.

--

Gibbs was lying on her side of the bed, his head placed on her pillow. He breathed in the fragrance of her that was everywhere in this room, but especially on the pillow; the mixture of her shampoo, her body lotion, her perfume, and something that was just her.

With some lonely tears rolling down his face, he fell to sleep, dreaming of the woman he had loved, and still loved; the one he had lost in the reality, but not in his dreams.

And his heart.

FIN

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