A/n: Lessee, what to say, what to say...

Right. Um...semi-V-Day themed PWP smut-fic one-shot.

I've stolen a whole cast of characters from other shows, so...

West Wing...no spoilers that I can think of, past Season 3. All you need to know is, Josiah "Jed" Bartlett is President in this fic, and C.J. Cregg is still Press Secretary. And dated Gibbs sometime before the events of this story. (Simon Donovan arc, anyone?)

JAG- spoilers for the final episode of the last season

NCIS-um, no spoilers that I can think of, other than a general one for Season 3. Obviously, Jenny is here.

Disclaimer: No, didn't get my birthday wish, still don't own 'em.

"Behaving"

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not normally one for attending the political "soirees" his lover so seemed to enjoy. Dancing, dressing up in stiff ties and suits, plus the so called rubber chicken dinners were never his thing, which was why he was protesting so vehemently now.

"Jen…I'm not goin'."

Jenny Shepard pouted spectacularly, eyeing him over the top of her glasses, head tilted to the side coquettishly. "Not even if I promise to reward you?"

The silver haired agent shifted slightly in his chair, blue eyes watching her warily. "What sort of reward are we talkin' here?"

The redhead considered, tapping the end of her pen against her full lips. She smiled a little dangerously, leaning forward. "What sort of reward do you want?"

Oh boy. Gibbs swallowed heavily, his eyes darkening ever so slightly. "Not goin' to this shindig would be nice."

Her musical laugh floated through the air, hitting him in all the right places. "Not an option."

He shifted again, thinking. "How 'bout a private viewing of whatever's in that La Perla bag in your desk?"

The dangerous grin on her face grew. "I was saving that for after the ball."

"Huh." He swallowed. "And if I don't go with you?"

She shrugged. "I'll probably return it. No point in having it if I'm not going to the ball."

"Return it?" Oh, he really wanted to see this lingerie now. He sighed, capitulating to her skillful ploy. "I'll go."

Jenny sat back, a satisfied grin on her face. "Wonderful. We'll need to go get you fitted for your suit, then."

"Uh huh." Gibbs was already standing and heading for the door when the meaning of her last sentence sunk in. "Wait…fitted?"

He stared as she descended the stairs from the catwalk that evening, blue eyes focused on the almost indecently low cut of her dress. He straightened his tie, clearing his throat. "Not sure I should be letting you go out in that."

Jenny laughed, linking her arm through his, emerald green eyes flicking up and down, taking in the tailored suit he wore appreciatively. "I should say the same for you."

Gibbs let out a short bark of a laugh as he looked her forest green dress over again. Halter top, the deep V of the neck dipping down daringly between her breasts, while the back-if it could even be called that- stopped just above the curve of her ass. "That dress isn't doing any wonders for my blood pressure."

"Then it's doing its job, hm?" She smirked, leaning up to press dark red lips to his cheek. "I like the suit."

"You would, you picked it out." He retorted, reaching up to wipe the lipstick print off of his cheek as they came up to the limousine waiting out front. He brushed past Melvin, her security detail and driver for the night, and opened the door himself, gesturing inside with a smirk. "Your chariot, Madame Director."

Jenny glared at him, muttering under her breath about keelhauling as she climbed in, smirking inwardly at his short intake of breath when greeted with a close up view of her bare back. He slid in after her, pulling the door shut behind him.

"So, where's this thing at?"

"Big hotel in D.C. It's the President's Valentine's Day Ball."

"Huh." Gibbs relaxed back into the leather seats of the car, tugging at the collar of his suit distastefully.

They rode in relative silence until he noted the presence of a warm hand, sliding slowly up his leg. "Jen?"

She smirked, continuing her slow tease. "Hm?"

"I…wh—" Gibbs choked off the next word, his hips rising slightly from the seat on reflex as she ghosted her fingers across the fly of his suit pants. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She grinned dangerously again, leaning in to nibble on his ear as her slim fingers unbuckled his belt and popped the button and zipper on the slacks.

He bit back a moan as her hand inadvertently-or maybe not so inadvertently- brushed across his lap, managing to growl out one word. "Mel—Melvin."

Jenny tutted lightly, biting down a little on his earlobe and then soothing it with a kiss as she continued the slow movements of her hand, her voice low. "My name isn't Melvin, Jethro."

"The driv—ER! If you don't st—stop thatrightNOWI'm gon—." His sentence cut off in another stifled moan, hips thrusting upwards blindly. "JEN—ny!"

She smirked, adding the light drag of a nail now and then to drive him crazy. "Are you going to behave at the ball, Jethro?"

He writhed in the seat, head thrown back as he tried to suck in a proper breath of air. "Y—yes, Jen…Jenny, please…"

"Yes what?"

Jethro groaned, hips bucking up into her hand as he tried to form a coherent thought. "YesI'llbegood!" His heart was pounding out of his chest, lungs starving for air like a fish out of water, with his eyes squeezed shut tight in pleasure. "JE—en—NY!"

The redhead grinned, slipping a handkerchief from her small clutch as she sped up her hand, continuing to kiss across his neck and jaw-line. "Then I'd advise you to bite down on your thumb or Melvin will hear you."

He slumped boneless in the seat a moment later while Jenny calmly wadded up the cloth square and slipped it in the trash receptacle of the limo, an amused grin on her face.

Finally, his blue eyes blinked open almost lazily, meeting her gaze. "Damn, Jen."

She laughed shortly, reaching into her bag to reapply her lipstick. "Wipe your face off, Jethro; you've got lipstick on it."

He sighed as Jenny practically wrestled him onto the dance floor after they entered, feet moving automatically to the beat. There was something to be said about four marriages when it came to dancing without thinking much about it. He shifted, using the slight height advantage and superior strength he had to lead them across the floor, chuckling wryly when she rolled her eyes at him. "You do remember the guy's supposed to lead when you're dancin', right Jen?"

Jenny raised her eyebrow as his hand slipped a little lower than what was considered appropriate for a ballroom full of people she worked with, reaching back to move his hand away from her ass, digging her nails into his skin lightly. "As long as you remember where a proper gentleman is supposed to put his hands."

Jethro tilted his head to the side briefly, considering, his lips curled in the trademark half-smirk. "Eh…I'll just put 'em somewhere ungentlemanly later."

Her green eyes widened briefly, but she gave no other outward indication that his statement had affected her, exerting enough pull to steer them towards a small group of people.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and followed her obediently, until he realized exactly who she was leading him towards, resisting her pull with a light tug that brought them both to a stop. "Ah…Jenny…I don't think we should go over there."

"And why is that?" The redhead slowly got them moving again, using the teasing drag of her fingernails over the nape of his neck to sufficiently distract him.

"I…" He trailed off into silence as they came to a stop in front of Bartlett and his party.

"Jennifer, lovely to see you, my dear." The President leaned forward, brushing a gentle kiss across Jenny's cheek.

"Mister President." She smiled graciously, tugging the reluctant Marine by her side forward. "This is my date for the evening, sir. Special Agent Jethro Gibbs."

"Agent Gibbs." Bartlett stuck his hand out, his face unreadable. Gibbs shook the offered hand firmly, the corner of his lips twitching up in a polite smile. "Mister President, sir." Blue eyes flickered next over to the tall woman standing behind the President's shoulder. "C.J."

"Jethro." C.J. Cregg smiled warmly, walking around Bartlett to hug him tightly, kissing his cheek lightly as she pulled away. "You're looking good, Marine."

He shrugged, jerking his head to the side at Jenny, who stood talking quietly with the First Lady. "Thank her. She's the one who ordered the suit."

She grinned, her gaze running up and down the length of his suit, lingering on the dark green tie coordinating with Jenny's dress before continuing on to the tight fit of the pants. "Uh huh." Her amused gaze traveled over to Jenny, who had finally extricated herself from Abbey Bartlett's heated discussion with her husband. "Jenny."

"C.J. It's good to see you." Jenny leaned in, exchanging a brief hug with her friend. "You two know each other, Jethro?"

He coughed, slipping his hands in his pockets sheepishly as he rocked back on his heels. "We dated a few years ago."

"Oh?" She grinned, raising her eyebrows. "And you didn't kill him, C.J.?"

"Oh, I wanted to, a few times." C.J. broke off as the President and his wife rejoined the conversation.

Jeb cleared his throat and gestured to Abbey. "Agent Gibbs, my wife, Dr. Abbey Bartlett. Abbey, this is Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, from NCIS."

Gibbs smiled politely, leaning forward to take her hand, placing a light kiss on the back of it. "Ma'am."

Abbey Bartlett smiled in reply, inclining her head in a nod. "Agent Gibbs."

They all looked up as the band kicked off another number, a slightly slower paced song. The President gave Gibbs one last wary glance before affixing his usual smile on his face, turning to Jenny. "Jennifer, may I have this dance?"

"Certainly, sir." Jenny took his hand as he led her out on the dance floor, smirking back at Jethro over her shoulder.

The First Lady eyed him speculatively, an odd look on her face. "Agent Gibbs, would you like to dance?"

"Er…I'd be happy to, ma'am." He followed her out onto the dance floor, settling his hands well within what Jenny would call the 'gentleman range' as they began dancing.

"Jenny certainly looks lovely tonight, don't you think?"

"Um…sure. I hadn't noticed. I'm just her escort for the evening."

Abbey laughed, giving him a knowing look. "A likely story. I know you can pull the wool over my husband's eyes, but I could see where your hands were on her earlier, Agent Gibbs."

He remained silent at that. Jenny had told him he needed to be good. Perhaps opening his mouth to talk in the first place had been a bad idea. He continued dancing with her quietly, until a light touch a little farther south along his back brought him out of his silent reverie. Was that her hand on his ass?

"…That suit is tailored."Lt. Col. Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie-Rabb tilted her head, watching as Gibbs spun around the floor with C.J. Cregg later, her eyes narrowing speculatively. "Jesus, look at his ass. That's…it's spectacular. How the devil did you get him to wear that suit, Jenny?"

Jenny shrugged, muffling her answer in her tumbler of bourbon. "Hand-job in the car on the way here."

"You what?" The Marine raised her eyebrows, giving her friend an appraising look. "Damn, Jenny. Didn't know you had it in you."

"There also might have been a little deal that involved a new La Perla set I bought the other day. And, um…well, you get the point." The bridge of her nose flushed as she took another long gulp of bourbon.

Mac laughed, clinking her glass against Jenny's. "And that whole thing on the dance floor earlier, when he nearly decked that guy who had his hands all over you? How'd you call him off?"

The redhead coughed. "Grabbed his ass and lured him off to that side balcony."

"What about the balcony?" Captain Harmon Rabb reappeared at Mac's side, three drinks gripped in his hands. "Got you ladies refills."

Mac smiled, leaning up on her toes to kiss his cheek lightly as she took her tonic and lime out of his hands. "Thanks, Sailor."

He grinned, slipping his free hand around her waist after Jenny took the much needed bourbon refill. "So what am I hearing about the balcony?"

"Nothing. I—have to go…powder my nose. Lovely seeing the two of you!" The redhead threw back the bourbon quickly, leaving her empty glass in Mac's hand as she hurried away through the crowds.

Harm turned to look at his wife, mystified. "Was it something I said?"

Jethro Gibbs decided he'd had quite his fill of this party when yet another aging Senator's wife groped his ass as he walked past. It was high time to blow this joint so he could get his private little fashion show from Jen. Plus, this suit was uncomfortable.

Blue eyes scanned the crowds, searching for the familiar head of red hair. There she was, chatting amiably with Fornell and one of the other tight sphincters from the FBI. He made his way over quickly, setting a light hand at her elbow.

"Director Shepard."

Jenny turned, eyebrows arched quizzically high on her brow. "Agent Gibbs?"

He held up the item in his hand. "Phone call for you, ma'am. London office, said it was urgent."

She pursed her lips, turning to murmur her goodbyes to Fornell and the other man before she followed him out into a secluded hallway of the hotel. "What's going on, Jethro?"

He didn't answer verbally, instead grabbing her wrist and tugging her behind the first unlocked door he found, a conveniently situated janitor's closet.

"Jethro…" Jenny tilted her head to the side, realization finally dawning. "London office didn't call, did they?"

He was on her as soon as the door clicked shut, pinning her back against it, lips rough against her neck as a callused hand began working its way down the side of her dress, hunting for the zip. "Nope."

She bit back a moan as he abandoned the zipper hunt for better pursuits, crouching to pull the material of her dress up her legs, resting her head back against the door with a sigh. "You couldn't wait until we got home, Jethro?"

"Nope." He continued bunching the material of the dress in his hands, traveling slowly up her thighs until… "Jen?"

He could practically hear the smirk in her voice as she responded. "Jethro?"

He sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he stood again, hands at her hips to hitch her up against the door. "You make a habit of not wearin' panties when ya go to these things, Jen?"

Her hands gripped at his shoulders, helping him with her endless legs wrapped around his waist. "You've seen the dress, Jethro. You honestly thought I could wear lingerie under this?"

He was already moving to unlatch his belt and trousers, his lips moving back to kiss her neck. "Guy can sure hope."

"Oh, so you're objecting?" She grinned teasingly, shifting against him in a calculated movement as she brought one leg back down to standing. "I can go home and get that La Perla set you wanted to see."

He grabbed her thigh and brought the leg back up around his waist as he thrust into her, abolishing the whole 'objecting' argument quickly as he kissed her to muffle the moan his action pulled from her painted lips.

Jenny broke away from the kiss when her lungs finally protested the lack of oxygen, manicured fingers tangling in his silver hair as he thrust, pinning her between the door and his heavy body. "Jeth—." Her next words were choked off as he gripped at her hips, hitching her higher against the door, changing the angle.

Gibbs kept his lips and teeth against her throat, nibbling lightly on her pounding pulse as her nails raked through his hair, soft moans only serving to encourage him on.

She arched her body against him as he sped up the pace, her head falling against his still clothed shoulder, pearly white teeth sinking down into his shoulder to muffle her scream as she came.

He rested against her, sweat rolling down his forehead as he chuckled shortly. "Damn, Jen."

"No kidding." She laughed weakly against his shoulder, his breathing harsh and loud in her ears. "I thought I told you to be good?"

"Jen…" His voice was the closest it would ever come to whining. "I've been groped by more than half the women here. We've been here for three hours, and all I got for it was a damn hand-job in the car."

"Alright, alright, we'll go." She pressed her lips against his jaw, soothing his complaints. "Go get Melvin, I need to straighten up a bit." She winced slightly as he set her down, trying her best to smooth her dress down.

Jethro bent to retrieve his boxers and pants, pooled at his feet, pulling them up and tucking his shirt back in. "I'll see you at the car?"

Jenny smiled as another idea struck her, leaning forward to hook her fingers in his belt. "Or we can call a cab and get home faster so I can, ah… model that La Perla set for you."

His answer came in the form of a hand tight around her wrist, dragging her from the closet and out the side door of the hotel, Jenny's musical laugh floating out into the cool February night behind them.

A/n:

Okay, so…

I definitely blame MissJayne for this one. This was originally meant to be part of my contribution to the V-Day Jibbsfest, but the muse took me other places with those prompts, and then I decided to gift you all with this separate little one-shot.

That, and iTunes had smut on the brain again.

Mostly the former, though. :P

Recommended listening:

LoveGame- Lady Gaga

My First Kiss- 3OH!3

Give A Little More- Maroon 5

Bad Girlfriend- Theory of a Deadman

Reviews are always appreciated!

-meg