FIC: Wooing (Tibbs, of course)
Feb. 14th, 2012 06:29 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
hawk-soaring.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
valentine_tibbsTitle: Wooing
Author: hawk_soaring
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Gibbs/ DiNozzo
Rating: FRT
Author’s Notes: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
valentine_tibbs comm and beta'd by the wonderful ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sinfulslasher. She did an amazing job, as usual. All remaining mistakes are all mine.
Word Count: 2703
Warnings: Schmoop
Summary: Gibbs has a secret admirer
~*~*~
Gibbs walked out of the elevator on Monday morning, a cup of steaming coffee in one hand. He opened his coat and unwound the scarf from around his neck, tossing it across the back of his chair before setting his coffee cup down to shrug out of his coat. His gaze fell on a small object sitting in the middle of his blotter and he watched it warily as he tossed his coat over the back of his chair. He sat, his hands framing the object carefully.
It was a cinnamon bun. He loved cinnamon buns and this one was still warm. He could feel the heat radiating off it and the smell wafted upwards on the heat. He inhaled deeply of the scent before looking around. His agents were all hard at work and not a one of them was casting anxious looks his way.
He looked at the pastry again and then shrugged. Who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? Besides, cinnamon buns were one of his favorite pastries and he rarely got them.
The taste exploded on his tongue when he bit into the bun and he barely concealed a moan of delight as he savored the sticky goodness. He briefly wondered who he had to thank for his breakfast and then they caught a case and the rest of the day was a blur.
*
On Tuesday there was no cinnamon bun, but there was a large cup of steaming coffee from his favorite coffee shop. He looked around quickly. His agents were all working at their desks, seemingly unconcerned with what was on his desk. He shrugged and picked up the coffee, saluting silently and taking a deep sip of the scalding liquid. He hadn’t had time to stop for coffee this morning so this was a welcome surprise as he had finished his third cup in the car on the drive to work. He always felt better with a cup of his favorite brew in his hand.
The coffee was perfect: his favorite blend, dark, strong, and scalding. All of his agents knew that he drank his coffee black, but not many people knew his favorite blend. It narrowed things down a little – to his entire team, and maybe a few secretaries . . . and Abby and Ducky and . . .
He had no clue who was leaving him gifts and having no clue never made him happy.
*
On Wednesday, Gibbs walked in expecting to see another gift on his desk – and it was empty. He frowned until he realized it was pristine; no paperwork, no scribbled notes, and no half finished reports. His stomach immediately plummeted and he swallowed the bile that threatened to roil forth. Just as he opened his mouth to ask who the hell had moved his important paperwork he saw it, neatly piled in his “out box”. Frowning, he set his coffee on his desk and picked up the pile. As he thumbed through the pile, he saw it was all completed. Every last report was finished. All of his notes had been organized and typed up in chronological order – with footnotes. The paperwork was collated and tabbed for signature. He was truly stymied. Who would do such a thing? And, possibly more importantly – why?
As he reached for a pen to sign the finished paperwork and reports, he realized that even his pens had been neatly stowed away in his desk drawer. Hell, even his paperclips were gathered into a small box and set neatly to one side of the drawer. It looked like a school marm’s desk and it made Gibbs want to giggle, something that pissed him off. He slammed his desk drawer and snarled at his team. The day went downhill from there.
*
Gibbs took the stairs on Thursday, hoping to catch whoever was messing with him at his desk. He was a bit disappointed to see everyone at their desks, busy on whatever paperwork they needed to get done. Well, everyone except Tony.
“Where’s DiNozzo?” he asked as he walked toward his desk.
“Abby called him down to the lab,” McGee said, looking up only briefly from his computer.
Gibbs nodded and sat at his desk, strangely disappointed that he didn’t have a new gift this morning. With a mental head-slap, he opened the file folder on his desk. He had work to do, damn it. Gibbs read through the first page of the file and then reached for his coffee. Taking a big sip, he turned the page – and almost choked on his coffee. He swallowed quickly, grimacing as the scalding hot brew burned its way into his stomach, and then coughed to clear his throat. Glancing up, he saw McGee watching him.
“You okay, Boss?”
Gibbs sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine, McGee,” he snapped, feeling a little guilty when McGee quickly looked away. He reached for his coffee again and then stopped, picking up the envelope that had been tucked into the file instead. It was sealed – and hadn’t been in the file the night before when he’d left for the night. This was his gift, but what could it possibly be?
Opening the envelope was easy but pulling out the slip of paper was more difficult – but his hands were not shaking. He was calm and cool and collected. And the paper was an advertisement for a new Italian Restaurant in Alexandria. That was it – an advertisement? He snorted in amusement and opened his desk drawer to put his letter opener away and found a Godiva chocolate bar inside wrapped with a red ribbon. The ribbon had a heart hanging from it.
Well, that explained why his letter opener had been on his desk instead of in it – but chocolate? Seriously? And then he looked at the bar again and smiled. It was dark chocolate; his favorite. Damn, whoever this was knew his tastes. But who was it and why were they going through all this trouble? He pinched the bridge of his nose and realized he was starting to get annoyed by the attention and the gifts, especially since he had no clue why these things were happening.
If he was a bit snippier than usual that day, it was his secret admirer’s fault. He growled when he realized people were avoiding him. Letting this get to him was affecting his work and it was totally unacceptable. He was determined to put it all behind him – but he did slip the chocolate bar into his pocket when he left work later that night.
*
On Friday, Gibbs headed for work a little earlier than usual. If anyone had said he had a spring in his step he would have denied it but he had to admit that he was looking forward to work today for some reason. When he got to the bullpen there was a small box on his desk. It was wrapped in white paper and tied with a perfect red bow. Another heart hung from the ribbon, this time in silver.
None of his team was at their desks yet but that didn’t necessarily rule them out as suspects in the Gift-a-Day Caper. Far from it. In fact, he had been leaning toward the conclusion that the gifts must have been placed the evening before since he always arrived at different times. The box merely supported his hypothesis.
“Oh, hey Boss. You’re here early.”
Tony. How the hell did DiNozzo beat him into work – and did that mean he was the culprit behind all the gifts? But Tony wasn’t the devious sort. Hell, he’d been in his face often enough that Gibbs pretty much expected him to face anything head on. Leaving gifts on his desk just wasn’t Tony’s style. So who did that leave?
“’Morning, Boss.”
McGee. Gibbs squinted at him and Tim started to fidget. Nah, McGee didn’t have the balls needed to pull something like this off. Besides, what would the purpose be? McGee definitely wasn’t interested in him and the heart on that chocolate bar seemed to point to a romantic interest. No, it wasn’t McGee.
“Gibbs.”
Ziva. Damn – it couldn’t be. If he had to guess he would bet that Ziva’s tastes ran more to DiNozzo than to him. He was more of a father figure than anything else. Sighing softly he nodded. Not Ziva then.
Well, damn. That left Abby or Ducky or Palmer or. . . Gibbs sighed and, realizing he was still standing in the middle of the bullpen, he turned to his desk again. The box still sat there, almost exactly in the center of his blotter.
“Another gift, Gibbs?” Ziva said as she set her belongings down and got settled for the day’s work.
Gibbs shrugged. “Apparently,” he said, going for a tone of nonchalance. Gibbs set his cup of coffee on his desk, waiting to pick up the box until he sat down. He felt their eyes on him and looked up, catching each of his team looking away quickly. Hiding a smile, he pulled on either end of the ribbon, untying it before tackling the wrapping paper on the small gift box. The box was royal blue and unadorned. Gibbs set it on his desktop blotter and tossed the wrapping paper in the trash. He stared at the box as he wrapped the ribbon around his fist, setting it to one side before picking the box up and removing the lid carefully.
The inside of the box was lined in navy blue and Gibbs had to lift the material away to get at the contents of the box. What he saw took his breath away and he simply stared into the box for a long minute before reaching in and picking up the small oval object. It was a sterling silver medallion with St. Michael the Archangel on it – the patron saint of Marines. It was on a silver chain and Gibbs lifted it carefully from the box. It was beautiful and Gibbs was left wondering yet again just who was giving him these gifts. No one knew that he had lost his medallion a couple of weeks prior so how would anyone have known to replace it?
“That’s really nice, Boss,” Tony said softly and Gibbs was surprised to see that his team was standing in front of his desk.
He cleared his throat as he lowered the medallion back into the box. “Yes, it is,” he said gruffly. “Let’s get to work, people.” He got up, walking around his desk quickly and smiled when his team scattered back to their own desks.
*
Gibbs was pretty sure there would be no gifts on Saturday as he wasn’t going into the office. The team wasn’t on call for the weekend and he had nothing planned but some much needed rest and relaxation. He spent the morning in the basement, working on plans for his next project. His kitchen needed to be upgraded and he was going to build the cabinets by hand. If things went well he thought he might even have time to buy the supplies this weekend.
Lunch was a sandwich at his workbench and by the time he headed upstairs for a shower it was late late afternoon, bordering on evening. He stripped off his sweatshirt as he hit the stairs leading to the second floor and unzipped his blue jeans as he walked into his bathroom. His shoes were toed off, jeans and underwear skimmed down over his legs and tossed into the hamper and then he stepped into his shower.
The hot water pounded down over his body, the heat seeping into aching muscles and he groaned softly. He wasn’t one to dawdle in the shower, especially if he was alone, so he finished up quickly and then toweled off. Padding naked into his bedroom he was stopped short by the sight of a garment bag laying on his bed, a red ribbon adorning the zipper.
Gibbs looked around quickly, expecting someone to be standing there, but he was alone. He felt very vulnerable being naked so he slipped into a robe that was hanging on the back of his door, belting it at his waist before heading downstairs. The front door was closed and Gibbs took a minute to lock it before looking around some more.
Satisfied that he was alone in the house, he headed back upstairs. Taking a breath, he walked into his bedroom and looked down at the black garment bag lying on his bed. Hanging from the ribbon was a silver heart and Gibbs shook his head as he reached out to untie the ribbon and then unzip the bag.
Gibbs set the heart on his dresser alongside all the others he had received that week and he smiled as he ran a finger over them. Then it was time to actually look in the garment bag. He peeled the sides of the bag back, revealing a suit – a very expensive suit, if he judged it correctly. Gibbs whistled appreciatively at the dove gray material of the suit, Armani by the label. As he lifted the suit out of the bag, he noticed there was a white shirt with tiny blue pinstripes and a blue tie, the color of the winter sky on a sunny afternoon. The tie had tiny flecks of red in it, just enough to make the blue really pop, but not enough to alter the color.
Gibbs hung the suit from the hook on the back of his bedroom door and frowned when he noticed there was something in the pocket of the suit jacket. He couldn’t imagine what it could be but reached in, pulling out a pair of blood red silk boxers. Laughing, he set the boxers on his dresser top and turned back to look at the suit again. That was when he noticed a slip of paper sticking out of the breast pocket.
It was another advertisement for the new Italian restaurant, Luigi’s. On the face of the ad was written 8:00 PM sharp!. So should he go? Would he be disappointed when his date was only M. Alison Hart or Holly Snow and not the one person he’d hoped was behind the gifts all week?
*
Gibbs wasn’t too sure about handing his baby over to a valet, but he’d driven it here so he took a breath and handed his keys to the young man. “Be careful with her,” he said, feeling a sense of pride when the kid swallowed and nodded nervously. He entered the restaurant and gave his name to the Maitre D’.
“You look amazing.”
The rasp to the voice told Gibbs that his date was just as nervous as he was and he smiled. “Thank you,” he said easily, slipping into the chair next to Tony. “And thank you for the gifts.”
Tony smiled. “Did you know it was me?”
Gibbs cleared his throat. “No,” he admitted softly. “I only hoped.”
It was Tony’s turn to smile. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”
“I almost didn’t,” Gibbs answered truthfully. “But I wanted to find out who cared enough to replace my medallion.”
Tony nodded. “That the only reason?”
Gibbs had never heard Tony sound so unsure of himself. “Well, that and I wanted to thank the person for all of the gifts. You really made my week, Tony.”
Tony laughed. “At one point I thought I’d gone too far. You seemed really upset, Boss.”
“Jethro,” Gibbs said. “We’re on a date. It’s Jethro.”
Tony blushed. “Jethro it is then.”
The waiter came over then and took their drink orders. Once he’d gone, Jethro looked at Tony. “So, what’s the occasion – if you don’t mind me asking?”
Tony gulped. “Um. . . Valentine’s Day?”
“But it’s only the eleventh,” Jethro said.
Tony smiled a little shyly. “I wanted to take you out for Valentine’s Day – and I know it’s not until Tuesday but I couldn’t be sure we wouldn’t pull a case and I didn’t want to miss out.”
Gibbs leaned close and placed a chaste kiss on Tony’s lips. “Thank you – and Happy Valentine’s Day, Tony.”
END
Author: hawk_soaring
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Gibbs/ DiNozzo
Rating: FRT
Author’s Notes: Written for the
valentine_tibbs comm and beta'd by the wonderful sinfulslasher. She did an amazing job, as usual. All remaining mistakes are all mine. Word Count: 2703
Warnings: Schmoop
Summary: Gibbs has a secret admirer
~*~*~
Gibbs walked out of the elevator on Monday morning, a cup of steaming coffee in one hand. He opened his coat and unwound the scarf from around his neck, tossing it across the back of his chair before setting his coffee cup down to shrug out of his coat. His gaze fell on a small object sitting in the middle of his blotter and he watched it warily as he tossed his coat over the back of his chair. He sat, his hands framing the object carefully.
It was a cinnamon bun. He loved cinnamon buns and this one was still warm. He could feel the heat radiating off it and the smell wafted upwards on the heat. He inhaled deeply of the scent before looking around. His agents were all hard at work and not a one of them was casting anxious looks his way.
He looked at the pastry again and then shrugged. Who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? Besides, cinnamon buns were one of his favorite pastries and he rarely got them.
The taste exploded on his tongue when he bit into the bun and he barely concealed a moan of delight as he savored the sticky goodness. He briefly wondered who he had to thank for his breakfast and then they caught a case and the rest of the day was a blur.
*
On Tuesday there was no cinnamon bun, but there was a large cup of steaming coffee from his favorite coffee shop. He looked around quickly. His agents were all working at their desks, seemingly unconcerned with what was on his desk. He shrugged and picked up the coffee, saluting silently and taking a deep sip of the scalding liquid. He hadn’t had time to stop for coffee this morning so this was a welcome surprise as he had finished his third cup in the car on the drive to work. He always felt better with a cup of his favorite brew in his hand.
The coffee was perfect: his favorite blend, dark, strong, and scalding. All of his agents knew that he drank his coffee black, but not many people knew his favorite blend. It narrowed things down a little – to his entire team, and maybe a few secretaries . . . and Abby and Ducky and . . .
He had no clue who was leaving him gifts and having no clue never made him happy.
*
On Wednesday, Gibbs walked in expecting to see another gift on his desk – and it was empty. He frowned until he realized it was pristine; no paperwork, no scribbled notes, and no half finished reports. His stomach immediately plummeted and he swallowed the bile that threatened to roil forth. Just as he opened his mouth to ask who the hell had moved his important paperwork he saw it, neatly piled in his “out box”. Frowning, he set his coffee on his desk and picked up the pile. As he thumbed through the pile, he saw it was all completed. Every last report was finished. All of his notes had been organized and typed up in chronological order – with footnotes. The paperwork was collated and tabbed for signature. He was truly stymied. Who would do such a thing? And, possibly more importantly – why?
As he reached for a pen to sign the finished paperwork and reports, he realized that even his pens had been neatly stowed away in his desk drawer. Hell, even his paperclips were gathered into a small box and set neatly to one side of the drawer. It looked like a school marm’s desk and it made Gibbs want to giggle, something that pissed him off. He slammed his desk drawer and snarled at his team. The day went downhill from there.
*
Gibbs took the stairs on Thursday, hoping to catch whoever was messing with him at his desk. He was a bit disappointed to see everyone at their desks, busy on whatever paperwork they needed to get done. Well, everyone except Tony.
“Where’s DiNozzo?” he asked as he walked toward his desk.
“Abby called him down to the lab,” McGee said, looking up only briefly from his computer.
Gibbs nodded and sat at his desk, strangely disappointed that he didn’t have a new gift this morning. With a mental head-slap, he opened the file folder on his desk. He had work to do, damn it. Gibbs read through the first page of the file and then reached for his coffee. Taking a big sip, he turned the page – and almost choked on his coffee. He swallowed quickly, grimacing as the scalding hot brew burned its way into his stomach, and then coughed to clear his throat. Glancing up, he saw McGee watching him.
“You okay, Boss?”
Gibbs sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine, McGee,” he snapped, feeling a little guilty when McGee quickly looked away. He reached for his coffee again and then stopped, picking up the envelope that had been tucked into the file instead. It was sealed – and hadn’t been in the file the night before when he’d left for the night. This was his gift, but what could it possibly be?
Opening the envelope was easy but pulling out the slip of paper was more difficult – but his hands were not shaking. He was calm and cool and collected. And the paper was an advertisement for a new Italian Restaurant in Alexandria. That was it – an advertisement? He snorted in amusement and opened his desk drawer to put his letter opener away and found a Godiva chocolate bar inside wrapped with a red ribbon. The ribbon had a heart hanging from it.
Well, that explained why his letter opener had been on his desk instead of in it – but chocolate? Seriously? And then he looked at the bar again and smiled. It was dark chocolate; his favorite. Damn, whoever this was knew his tastes. But who was it and why were they going through all this trouble? He pinched the bridge of his nose and realized he was starting to get annoyed by the attention and the gifts, especially since he had no clue why these things were happening.
If he was a bit snippier than usual that day, it was his secret admirer’s fault. He growled when he realized people were avoiding him. Letting this get to him was affecting his work and it was totally unacceptable. He was determined to put it all behind him – but he did slip the chocolate bar into his pocket when he left work later that night.
*
On Friday, Gibbs headed for work a little earlier than usual. If anyone had said he had a spring in his step he would have denied it but he had to admit that he was looking forward to work today for some reason. When he got to the bullpen there was a small box on his desk. It was wrapped in white paper and tied with a perfect red bow. Another heart hung from the ribbon, this time in silver.
None of his team was at their desks yet but that didn’t necessarily rule them out as suspects in the Gift-a-Day Caper. Far from it. In fact, he had been leaning toward the conclusion that the gifts must have been placed the evening before since he always arrived at different times. The box merely supported his hypothesis.
“Oh, hey Boss. You’re here early.”
Tony. How the hell did DiNozzo beat him into work – and did that mean he was the culprit behind all the gifts? But Tony wasn’t the devious sort. Hell, he’d been in his face often enough that Gibbs pretty much expected him to face anything head on. Leaving gifts on his desk just wasn’t Tony’s style. So who did that leave?
“’Morning, Boss.”
McGee. Gibbs squinted at him and Tim started to fidget. Nah, McGee didn’t have the balls needed to pull something like this off. Besides, what would the purpose be? McGee definitely wasn’t interested in him and the heart on that chocolate bar seemed to point to a romantic interest. No, it wasn’t McGee.
“Gibbs.”
Ziva. Damn – it couldn’t be. If he had to guess he would bet that Ziva’s tastes ran more to DiNozzo than to him. He was more of a father figure than anything else. Sighing softly he nodded. Not Ziva then.
Well, damn. That left Abby or Ducky or Palmer or. . . Gibbs sighed and, realizing he was still standing in the middle of the bullpen, he turned to his desk again. The box still sat there, almost exactly in the center of his blotter.
“Another gift, Gibbs?” Ziva said as she set her belongings down and got settled for the day’s work.
Gibbs shrugged. “Apparently,” he said, going for a tone of nonchalance. Gibbs set his cup of coffee on his desk, waiting to pick up the box until he sat down. He felt their eyes on him and looked up, catching each of his team looking away quickly. Hiding a smile, he pulled on either end of the ribbon, untying it before tackling the wrapping paper on the small gift box. The box was royal blue and unadorned. Gibbs set it on his desktop blotter and tossed the wrapping paper in the trash. He stared at the box as he wrapped the ribbon around his fist, setting it to one side before picking the box up and removing the lid carefully.
The inside of the box was lined in navy blue and Gibbs had to lift the material away to get at the contents of the box. What he saw took his breath away and he simply stared into the box for a long minute before reaching in and picking up the small oval object. It was a sterling silver medallion with St. Michael the Archangel on it – the patron saint of Marines. It was on a silver chain and Gibbs lifted it carefully from the box. It was beautiful and Gibbs was left wondering yet again just who was giving him these gifts. No one knew that he had lost his medallion a couple of weeks prior so how would anyone have known to replace it?
“That’s really nice, Boss,” Tony said softly and Gibbs was surprised to see that his team was standing in front of his desk.
He cleared his throat as he lowered the medallion back into the box. “Yes, it is,” he said gruffly. “Let’s get to work, people.” He got up, walking around his desk quickly and smiled when his team scattered back to their own desks.
*
Gibbs was pretty sure there would be no gifts on Saturday as he wasn’t going into the office. The team wasn’t on call for the weekend and he had nothing planned but some much needed rest and relaxation. He spent the morning in the basement, working on plans for his next project. His kitchen needed to be upgraded and he was going to build the cabinets by hand. If things went well he thought he might even have time to buy the supplies this weekend.
Lunch was a sandwich at his workbench and by the time he headed upstairs for a shower it was late late afternoon, bordering on evening. He stripped off his sweatshirt as he hit the stairs leading to the second floor and unzipped his blue jeans as he walked into his bathroom. His shoes were toed off, jeans and underwear skimmed down over his legs and tossed into the hamper and then he stepped into his shower.
The hot water pounded down over his body, the heat seeping into aching muscles and he groaned softly. He wasn’t one to dawdle in the shower, especially if he was alone, so he finished up quickly and then toweled off. Padding naked into his bedroom he was stopped short by the sight of a garment bag laying on his bed, a red ribbon adorning the zipper.
Gibbs looked around quickly, expecting someone to be standing there, but he was alone. He felt very vulnerable being naked so he slipped into a robe that was hanging on the back of his door, belting it at his waist before heading downstairs. The front door was closed and Gibbs took a minute to lock it before looking around some more.
Satisfied that he was alone in the house, he headed back upstairs. Taking a breath, he walked into his bedroom and looked down at the black garment bag lying on his bed. Hanging from the ribbon was a silver heart and Gibbs shook his head as he reached out to untie the ribbon and then unzip the bag.
Gibbs set the heart on his dresser alongside all the others he had received that week and he smiled as he ran a finger over them. Then it was time to actually look in the garment bag. He peeled the sides of the bag back, revealing a suit – a very expensive suit, if he judged it correctly. Gibbs whistled appreciatively at the dove gray material of the suit, Armani by the label. As he lifted the suit out of the bag, he noticed there was a white shirt with tiny blue pinstripes and a blue tie, the color of the winter sky on a sunny afternoon. The tie had tiny flecks of red in it, just enough to make the blue really pop, but not enough to alter the color.
Gibbs hung the suit from the hook on the back of his bedroom door and frowned when he noticed there was something in the pocket of the suit jacket. He couldn’t imagine what it could be but reached in, pulling out a pair of blood red silk boxers. Laughing, he set the boxers on his dresser top and turned back to look at the suit again. That was when he noticed a slip of paper sticking out of the breast pocket.
It was another advertisement for the new Italian restaurant, Luigi’s. On the face of the ad was written 8:00 PM sharp!. So should he go? Would he be disappointed when his date was only M. Alison Hart or Holly Snow and not the one person he’d hoped was behind the gifts all week?
*
Gibbs wasn’t too sure about handing his baby over to a valet, but he’d driven it here so he took a breath and handed his keys to the young man. “Be careful with her,” he said, feeling a sense of pride when the kid swallowed and nodded nervously. He entered the restaurant and gave his name to the Maitre D’.
“You look amazing.”
The rasp to the voice told Gibbs that his date was just as nervous as he was and he smiled. “Thank you,” he said easily, slipping into the chair next to Tony. “And thank you for the gifts.”
Tony smiled. “Did you know it was me?”
Gibbs cleared his throat. “No,” he admitted softly. “I only hoped.”
It was Tony’s turn to smile. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”
“I almost didn’t,” Gibbs answered truthfully. “But I wanted to find out who cared enough to replace my medallion.”
Tony nodded. “That the only reason?”
Gibbs had never heard Tony sound so unsure of himself. “Well, that and I wanted to thank the person for all of the gifts. You really made my week, Tony.”
Tony laughed. “At one point I thought I’d gone too far. You seemed really upset, Boss.”
“Jethro,” Gibbs said. “We’re on a date. It’s Jethro.”
Tony blushed. “Jethro it is then.”
The waiter came over then and took their drink orders. Once he’d gone, Jethro looked at Tony. “So, what’s the occasion – if you don’t mind me asking?”
Tony gulped. “Um. . . Valentine’s Day?”
“But it’s only the eleventh,” Jethro said.
Tony smiled a little shyly. “I wanted to take you out for Valentine’s Day – and I know it’s not until Tuesday but I couldn’t be sure we wouldn’t pull a case and I didn’t want to miss out.”
Gibbs leaned close and placed a chaste kiss on Tony’s lips. “Thank you – and Happy Valentine’s Day, Tony.”
END
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Date: 2012-02-14 11:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 12:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 12:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 12:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 01:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 01:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 11:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 03:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 11:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 04:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 11:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 06:27 am (UTC)Every single gift you had Tony give Gibbs was totally in character, especially for someone who knew and loved him. By the time Thursday rolled around, Gibbs was bound to be in a state of flux. When in doubt, or unsure of himself, Gibbs reverts to anger as his default mood. As Gibbs' mood worsened, I was picturing people diving under desks to avoid his temper. It actually had me grinning.
This was a lovely change of pace, and I enjoyed it immensely. Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 02:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 04:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-15 09:29 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading.
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Date: 2012-02-16 12:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-16 01:03 am (UTC)EEEEEEE!
Date: 2012-02-16 12:50 am (UTC)Re: EEEEEEE!
Date: 2012-02-16 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-18 05:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-18 07:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-20 03:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-20 09:37 pm (UTC)