A/N: This has been in the Doc Manager for like, what, three months? Decided to let it see the light. :)

I'm not entirely sure what this even is. Is it a drabble? Is it a one-shot? #firstworldfanfictionproblems

NCIS does not belong to me, yadda yadda.

Jenny had always been fascinated with Jethro's hands.

They aren't that special, really, but Jenny had memorized its features long ago in Paris. They were rough, that was for sure – the callouses and scars he had gained through boat-making are evident once she gets up close. His nails are short but not overly so, and she would always stare – not in an I-have-a-creepy-hand-fetish-way, mind you – every time Jethro would crack his fingers when his hand got cramped up with too much paperwork.

It's hard for her to believe that the hands capable of bringing the toughest guys down are the same hands capable of the gentlest of touches. His hands, the same hands that had claimed the lives of innocent and guilty alike, are the same hands that bring her comfort and ease every time she needed it. They were the hands that pulled her closer every time they'd both lean in for a kiss – one hand would rest gently on the small of her back while the other would rake through her red hair and brush a rough thumb across her cheek. And while his hands have the ability to slap the shit out of DiNozzo if he ever did something stupid, they also had the ability to send shock waves coursing throughout her body every time they made love.

Ironic, really.

And as Jenny sat and thought about his hands while its owner was angrily complaining about a new case (Get Fornell off my ass, Jen!), she attentively watched as Jethro's hands clenched every time he mentioned "FBI", knuckles turning whiter the angrier he got.

They're the same hands that bring coffee for her and Caf-Pow! for Abby; grip a gun tightly and have a finger rest tensely on a trigger, hoping that its owner wouldn't need to shoot a bullet and hurt someone. They're the hands that sand his boat meticulously, brushing wood shavings and feeling the smooth texture of the wood beneath his skin as Jethro only wanted perfection for the boat he was naming after his little girl.

"You okay, Jen?" asked Jethro, finally noticing that Jenny was out in her own little world.

Jenny looked up in surprise. Jethro seemed a tad irritated that his angry rant wasn't heard at the least, but his eyes had a gleam of what looked like curiosity and concern.

"Of course," she replied, still glazed over.

"Anyhow, I got you a cup of coffee while I was out," Gibbs started, not quite believing what she said. His calloused hands passed her the steaming cup of coffee as their fingers brushed together.

And as the familiar jolt of electricity shot through her once more, Jenny thought to herself: Yep, I really do love his hands.

A/N: How I managed to think of Gibbs' hands while solving for the linear expansion of aluminum I don't really know, but whatever! ^_^