Yes, let me publish a new story that I've half finished, I say as I let Clandestine and Fog collect dust.
Don't worry, I do have every intention of going back to them. I just get distracted. Forgive me?
jae
Their relationship is many things: Undefined being one of them.
One
There are many things she loves about the Nation she's come to know as home over the last eight years.
However, allergy season is not one of them.
While she treasures her home in the Capitol, the warmth Spring brings, and consequently, the acclaimed cherry blossoms that bring vibrant color to the city landscape, she finds herself cursing them vehemently for the weeks that fall between mid April and May.
Work becomes a slow agony, and the hours sitting across from the partner that mercilessly teases her do not help this torture. There is no limit to the amusement he finds in how the former Israeli, who's tough as nails even on her bad days, is completely susceptible to something as trivial as Springtime allergies. Furthermore, he finds it just as amusing that the extent of her wrath in retaliation to his teasing is a watery glare at best, or the congested mumbling as she sniffles and sneezes herself into exhaustion. Worst case scenario, he becomes target to her weakly thrown balls of tissues.
And while allergies have officially kicked in since zero-nine hundred two days ago, today she considers herself lucky. They are on a spree of case-free work days, and today she will not be enduring an afternoon spent out in the field, under the glaring sun, nor surrounded by the pollinating trees and flowers that are blooming faster than Gibbs will have finished his first coffee. She's safe from the pollen that swarms through the air outside, and even more, she has found herself alone in the bullpen for the afternoon. No teasing, no watchful eyes as she takes her time going through old case files, and no constant chatter to irritate her already blooming headache.
After about two hours of silence and solitude, however, the pressure in her head has only worsened, and she finds herself hoping at least one of her team members will make a return appearance, if only to distract her from it. She even finds herself checking her phone periodically for a missed text from DiNozzo, Tony. Because while her partner may tease her, talk her ear off with relentless movie trivia, and lob paper planes as close to her head as he can, she knows he will also try to make her laugh, share with her all the red Skittles from his candy stash, and has even been known to keep spare tissue packets for her; the ones with soothing aloe and with an extra soft touch. The tea Gibbs had placed with a wink on her desk as he left with McGee that morning had been finished for an hour, and though it had helped at the time, her empty tea does little to improve the pain building behind her eyes. Glaring at the mocking paper cup, she reaches for her tissues, only to discover she's used the last of her reserves. Panic briefly flares as she shoots a searching gaze around the bullpen, and then her eyes fall again on her partner's desk across from her. Her eyes narrow, and she shoots another furtive glance around the bullpen out of habit, only to confirm she is, in fact, alone, and gets up, walking around her desk and over to the other side of the work area.
Though she has been known to occasionally give her partner a hard time for rummaging through her own desk, in actuality she minds little. They lack any semblance of privacy for the other, only because of the level of familiarity between them. It breeds from the intimacy of their partnership. And so she knows he will care very little if she goes in search of the precious package of Kleenex that are bound to be in his desk. Taking a seat in the substantially more reclined office chair, she locates the not all-so-secret place on the cool metal, jiggles the handle with her other hand, and hits the spot to free the drawer from the desk. It opens with the familiar clunk, and she lets out a congested affirmation in victory.
But his drawer yields little more success. It is cluttered with many random items, and too her disbelief, tissues do not seem to be one of them. She carefully begins combing through the drawer again, incase upon first inspection she had missed the object she desperately seeks, and right before she gives up, several things capture her attention.
A sealed envelope sticks out between the fray of rubber bands and what she suspects are wrappers from the granola bars McGee had claimed mysteriously vanished from his desk, and as she plucks it from where it's wedged in the side of the drawer, the picture behind it is revealed. Stuffy, raw nose long forgotten, a smile graces her face at the sight of it. She's familiar with this picture, she thinks, as she abandons the envelope and grabs for it instead. She twirls it between her fingers, and fleetingly, Parisian scenes fill her head as the memory comes back to her. She had thought he'd been only half serious when he showed her his favorite picture from that trip, and she'd never given it much afterthought. Her stomach flutters in the usual way it does when she often thinks about her partner, and not for the first time, she suppresses the thoughts those feelings try to stray towards. She replaces the picture carefully where she found it, and if she wasn't having second thoughts about going through his desk before, she is now. Apprehension is beginning to creep over her. Moving a stray wrapper reveals an old receipt, and she frowns at the familiar name of the restaurant that graces the top of it in swirly, cursive writing. They'd gone to that very restaurant one night after a case lead led them to Georgetown. They had opted to stay in the area and eat, rather than drive home and fend for themselves, and though she'd only been there the one time, she remembered loving it and declaring it her latest favorite place to dine. They had said they'd go back again, but neither had brought it up after that night. She wonders why he'd kept the receipt, when there seemed to be very little other trash in the drawer. The envelope she'd abandoned recaptures her attention, but she doesn't need to pick it up again to read only a untidy scribbled date in May on the front. Before she can distinguish the number of the day, though, a familiar voice makes her jump.
"Looking for these?"
She groans in pain as her knee meets the bottom of the drawer in surprise, and she looks up to see him smirking slightly at her irritation of being snuck up on. It evaporates quickly, though, when she notices he holds not just the mini packets, but an entire box of Aloe Kleenex tissues, soft padding and all.
"You've already used up all my backups, so I figured I'd swing by the CVS at the corner on my way back." His eyes soften, and he holds up his other hand, indicating a shopping bag of the store aforementioned, and she can just make out a bottle of Claritin and a box of her favorite Earl Grey tea.
She moans in appreciation, wiping at her sore nose, and he smirks wider, aware that's he gained himself some serious partner brownie points.
"Thank you," She sniffles emphatically, and when his gaze travels down from her face to his open desk drawer, she becomes aware that it's still open from her rummaging.
"Find anything interesting?" His tone is neutral, but she feels like he's asking two questions with one. Immediately, she feels her cheeks redden, but she's not quite sure why, since really, it was his things she stumbled upon.
So why is the fluttering in her stomach back again?
Quickly, she decides to play nonchalant. It's her go-to reaction with him when the yellow light flashes in her head. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she looks past him at her desk.
"McGee will be interested to know where his granola bars went to." She states impassively, getting up. She watches his slightly tense expression for several seconds, before relief flickers briefly over his expression, and his smile widens as he relaxes. As she goes to reach for the tissues in his hand, he holds them just out of reach.
"Good thing he won't find out," He grins as she tries and fails to grab the box from him, and shakes it with a knowing look. He waits until she steps back, rolling her eyes, and plays along.
"I have kept telling him he must have misplaced them," She amends, and he nods in agreement.
"That's what I've been saying." He says seriously, and finally relinquishes the tissues to her grasp. She doesn't hesitate in tearing them open, and he chuckles as she sets them down on her desk to free a tissue, moaning with relief. Tony shakes his head at her, but she could care less; All dignity is gone. She sits back down in her own, much sturdier chair, closing her eyes as she lets her head fall back. She hears her partner shuffling over, and he clears his throat to capture her attention.
Opening one eye, she finds him shaking out two pills from the bottle, placing them on her desk.
"Take those," He looks at her severely, pointing at the capsules, and shakes the shopping bag he holds up. "I'm gonna go make some of this, and then you can help me finish my paperwork as a thank you for my generosity."
She closes her eyes again, only mumbling in response, because she's too groggy to care all that much right now. She hears him shuffle away, but for whatever reason, she feels no irritation toward his blackmail.
She'll blame it on the fact he'd brought her temporarily relief in the form of three purchases.
But it's the memory of the picture in his desk drawer that draws the first, real smile of the day across her face.