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Mexican Man

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She was sat on the couch, so engrossed in the book she was reading, she didn't notice nor feel Gibbs coming up behind her.

"Boo," he whispered in her ear, making her jump, and the book tumble out of her hands.

"Oh, God!" She placed a hand above her racing heart, willing it to slow down.

"Call me Gibbs," he said into her ear, and then moved around to sit next to her on the leather couch.

"That was not funny," she said, and slapped his arm as he reached out to her.

"It was a little." With a simple maneuver, he pulled her onto his lap. "Hi," he said, and tugged at her earlobe with his teeth.

"How was your day?" she asked, and moaned as he lapped at her collarbone.

"Not gonna talk about that now." His hands were slowly making their way down and under her shirt.

"Jethro, we need to talk," she persisted.

"Well then talk." His hands made their way to her breasts, and he flicked his hand against a nipple, making her gasp.

"Jethro..." She trailed off when he pulled her tank top over her head, and he growled when it was confirmed that she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Hmm?" he hummed against her skin, the action sent vibrations right down to her core.

"It's urgent," she whimpered when he took a nipple into his mouth, and suckled hard.

"I'm not stopping you."

"Yes you are." Except it was ultimately her who pulled his dress shirt out of his pants and over his head. He placed his mouth over hers and kissed her deeply, pulling another moan from her. He pushed her back to lay down on the couch, while her hands worked the buckle of his pants. She whimpered impatiently, making him chuckle. She really hated his belts. He helped her, and took them off, along with his boxers.

It was when he seized his movements and took his hands off her to remove her sweatpants, that she remembered what she had been trying to do.

"Jethro, we need to talk," she said firmly. He nodded, but didn't stop. "Jethro..." He looked up, and nodded, telling her to go on, while he pulled her lace panties down with his teeth. "Jethro," she whined, she really didn't want to tell him like this.

"Talk," he said, while kissing a trail up her leg.

"Jethro, I'm pregnant!" she said, finally, irritated and frustrated.

"That it?" he asked, looking up.

"What?" she asked confused. "'That it?' That's all you have to say?"

He shook his head. "I already knew that." She stared at him, mouth wide open, eyes wide.

"You knew?" she croaked out.

"Yup," he said and gave her no time to process that sentence, because he gently parted her folds, and slipped two fingers into her, while his thumb rolled against her clit, sending her to heaven and back. Her head lolled back, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

"Oh, God." Her eyes fluttered open to watch him when she felt him place a light soft kiss to her lower abdomen, completely oblivious to the motions of his hand.

Just when she could feel the waves of ecstasy near, he withdrew. Completely. Her eyes snapped open, and locked onto his, and while she saw smugness and a tad of amusement in his, he saw murder in hers. Of course she wouldn't murder him right away, because she still needed that release only he—and he relished in that thought—could provide her.

She went to flip them over, and only after they landed on the floor did she remember they were on the couch. Gibbs cushioned her fall, and she laughed, the sensation sending all his blood race south. He thrust into her in one plunge, and she immediately stopped laughing, her last laugh stuck between a laugh and a gasp.

He held her hips tightly as he kept thrusting up into her, very much liking the way she (and her breasts) bounced with each plunge. Her manicured nails were digging into his chest, and he took both her hands in his, to prevent her from drawing blood. He kissed both her wrists, and pulled her down to lay against him. He felt her panting heavily against him.

"Can you pace yourself?" he couldn't resist saying in her ear. She looked down at him, and kissed him fiercely. He slowed his pace, and she placed one hand on his chest, riding him. After a while, he knew she was close, and he didn't want to come before her, so he reached down and rubbed her in a frantic motion, and she was soon screaming his name, and clamping down on him, milking him to his own orgasm. He shuddered beneath her, and spilled himself deep inside her.

She collapsed heavily against him.

"So, you knew?" she asked for reassurance.

"Uh huh." He pressed a light kiss to the back of her head.

"And we're okay?" she asked, emphasizing the last word.

"Uh huh." His hand was lazily tracing patterns on her back. The deep, steady rhythm of his breathing is was lulled her to sleep, and she didn't even realize it.

Gibbs' knew the moment she fell asleep. He gently got up and laid her down on the couch, putting back on her underwear and tank top, knowing she didn't actually sleep in the sweat pants. He carried her up the stairs and laid her down in their bed, covering her with the silk covers. She unconsciously sighed and curled deeper into the mattress.

"G'night mommy," he said, and kissed Jenny's forehead. "G'night baby." He placed a kiss to her abdomen, before softly treading out the room and back down the stairs, returning a short while later, joining her in bed.

The next morning, she groaned and turned, trying to shield her face from that damn sunshine. It was annoying, and always falling on her face, waking her up.

Gibbs growled unhappily, still asleep. He hated that damn ray of sun. It would always wake Jenny up, making her wriggle in his grasp, and then wake him up.

"Good morning, Jethro," she said to him, snuggling up against him, craving his warmth.

"Morning Jen—." He didn't get any farther, because she bolted out of bed and to the bathroom, and moments later, he heard retching. He grimaced and stood up, walking to the bathroom. Jenny was on the floor, barfing into the toilet. He grabbed a rag and wet it slightly with cold water. He also grabbed an elastic band from the counter. He sat down and scooted over to Jenny, taking her in his lap. He braided her hair and kept it closed with the elastic band, and after she had gone another round of throwing up, and leaned back against him, he held the cold, wet towel against her forehead, making her sigh.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Anytime," he whispered back to her, and so they sat, morning after morning, in the same position, until it finally subsided after three weeks.

"I have a doctor's appointment today," she said after looking in her daily planner.

"Mhm-hmmm, so?" he responded.


"Want me to come with you?" he asked, with that half-smile that she loved so much.

"Yes. Three o'clock. Don't be late."

"You're not my boss anymore," he pointed out, and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"I'm not?" she played along.

"Nope," he said, shaking his head.

"Huh, I knew I forgot something." She smiled as his lips covered hers, and coaxed her into a tender, chaste kiss. "Love you," she said when they pulled apart, and the two words pulled a complete smile out of him.

"Love you too, Jen."

"I'm going. You're gonna be late," she said, and put on her coat. Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Where would I be without you?" he said sarcastically, making her smile.

"Very lost." She kissed his cheek and disappeared out the door.

She was sitting in her gynecologist's office. It was three past three. She was going to kill him. She took out her phone.

"Boo," he said softly in her ear, making her jump.

"I told you to stop that!" she berated him. He smiled and gave her a kiss; sat down next to her.

"Before you say anything, I'm right on time."

"Jenny Shepard?" a nurse said, and as Jenny got up, everybody turned to look at her. It had been all over the news, the announcement of her high-profile, faked death. She had been terribly missed by the public. First female Director of an armed federal agency who faked her death, and wasn't really killed in her house fire? Yeah, that was bound to stir up some headlines.

Gibbs helped her and held her hand as they were led to the exam room.

She sat down on the exam table, as instructed by the nurse. Gibbs leaned over her and gave her a kiss.

"Boy or girl?" she asked him.

"Healthy." He shrugged. She reached up and stroked his face. "With, uh, Kelly, they told us it was a boy."

Jenny smiled, not only at the fact that L. Jethro Gibbs thought he was getting a son, but instead got a daughter, but also because he had shared something from that part in his past she knew so little about.

"I can imagine your surprise," she commented, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"Yes, and that is why, even if you do, I don't want to know if it's a boy or girl."

"Neither do I," Jenny said, not to please him—she wouldn't do that—but because she actually agreed—she wasn't going to tell him that, either.

The door opened, and Gibbs stepped away to see the doctor.

"Hi Jenny," the older woman greeted warmly. She was a little short, and a little chubby, but she looked really friendly.

"Hi Dr. Illidge," Jenny greeted back, politely.

"I assume you're the father," the doctor whispered smilingly when she passed Gibbs.

"Doctor, Jethro Gibbs, my, uhm, partner. Jethro, Dr. Illidge, my doctor," Jenny introduced.

"Okay, Jenny, if you could lower your pants so we can have a look..." The doctor said, preparing something, her back turned to the couple. Jenny popped the button of her pants and lowered it slightly, taking with it her underwear. The doctor turned around and hooked a towel into her pants, placing it on top of her pants, so it wouldn't get dirty. She lifted Jenny's shirt a little.

"A little cold," she warned, and put some gel onto Jenny's abdomen. Jenny hissed as the gel came in contact with her skin. It was really cold. Gibbs lightly squeezed her hand, and she turned to him with a smile.

The doctor put the ultrasound thing on top of the gel, and moved it a bit around. Soon, the sound of a heartbeat could be heard. The doctor held the thing still and clicked a few things on the computer.

"That's your baby," she said, turning back to the couple, who were smiling at the screen. "Would you like a picture?" Both nodded, and she decided to make two.

"Jen, how far along are you?" Gibbs asked.

"Uhm, I think ten weeks. Am I right?" The doctor nodded.

A few questions, two duplicate pictures of the ultrasound, and one car ride later, they were walking in a shopping mall.

"What do you want to eat today?" he asked, and her eyes twinkled.

"Doughnuts," she said excitedly, and luckily, there was a Dunkin' Donuts in that mall.

"I love you," Jenny said, biting into her third doughnut. Gibbs chuckled.

"I love you too." He seemed far away for a moment, and then he smiled. "You remember two and a half months ago, in the boat, when I came back from that long case in West Virginia?" She nodded.

"Uh huh."

"I think that's when the baby was conceived," Gibbs said simply, and Jenny's face slowly broke out into a smile.

"You've been thinking about that?" He shrugged and smiled impishly.