Stillwater, Pennsylvania: 1984
At the edge of Stillwater, there was a rickety red barn down by a shallow creek a picturesque old thing that seemed to fit the small town stereotype; it was on the property of an old farmer who'd long since built a smaller one, closer to his house.
The old farmer had a local kid help him with the crops during the season, and he turned a half-blind old eye to what the kid did in his free time in that old barn it was the kind of barn with a hayloft, and empty stalls ,a nice, cozy getaway for a teenager with a girlfriend even in the colder months.
It was almost April not so cold anymore; Spring was heavy in the air, and though the approaching season meant less time to dawdle and more work, Leroy Jethro Gibbs was glad he didn't have to haul a metric ton of blankets into the loft just to keep warm today, in particular, it was balmy enough for her to be content with just a knit afghan.
He lay on his back, staring at the wood arches of the ceiling, and frowned. He shifted onto his side - the blankets were a hassle, but the more of them there were, the less the hay stabbed into his skin. He turned his head to see if she was uncomfortable - and she caught his eye, flushing.
She was trying to work out a knot in her necklace, her fingers moving clumsily - shaky and clumsy was rare for her; she was always so confident. He grinned at her and reached for her hands, winking - he'd tangled it up, with his hot hands; he'd get it unwrought, with patience.
Her hands fell to her side, and she tilted her head. She - her name was Jennifer, Jenny Shepard - looked up at him, and flicked her eyes back down. He sensed she was uncomfortable.
"Hay stick you?" he asked, lowering his hands to rest them on her chest a moment.
He bent down and kissed her neck, catching her skin with his teeth. She shivered a little, and swatted at him.
"You'll leave a mark," she murmured, shifting.
She shrugged. The hay hadn't bothered her at all - for a brief moment, up here, alone, in a kind of rustic, standstill paradise, she'd lost her nerve, and had even been able to forget about what was bothering her - but that moment was over, and laying next to him, naked, under just a blanket, it was seemed impossible to ever forget that maybe their fragile world was about to come crashing down.
He rose up on his arm and started fiddling with her necklace again - it was a little Egyptian hieroglyph, something her father had brought her from worlds away, back when he was in the Army.
There was some lazy concentration in the way he tried to untangle strands of her long, dark red hair, and bits of straw and hay, from the knotted mess the delicate gold chain had become. She watched him handling the glittery pendant carefully - he glared at it purposefully as he tried to free it without pulling her hair, and she felt small and uncertain watching him; her eyes stung harshly.
She didn't want all this to change, but it didn't really matter - once she told him she was even worried, that it was even something they had to talk about - it was just going to make everything different. She wanted to keep watching him untangle the necklace like that was the only real problem they had.
She opened her mouth to take a deep breath, and she hiccupped slightly, as if she might start crying. She squeezed her knees together for strength, and pushed his hand away gently.
He gave her an amused look.
"Almost got it," he mumbled soothingly, dipping his head down to kiss her lips.
He thought she was worried for the well being of her necklace - the stupid necklace; the reason he'd first spoken to her, sometime back when they weren't even interested in each other - in anyone - like this.
