Title: Home
Summary: Tibbs-ish. Slash. He never was one much for sticking around
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own. If I did…
Authors note: I know I said I wouldn't be coming out with any more Tibbs for a while because I was working on something special, but I've got a minor case of writers block and this was demanding to be written. So was a fic called Socks that I started yesterday and haven't quite finished yet. I haven't even figured out a fandom yet. Probably not this one… I'm rambling…
He never was one much for sticking around. It wasn't him. He was the guy who would come to work everyday for a few months, a year, two years, then just up and leave one day. He never felt at home.
Of course, he never really knew what home felt like. The place he'd lived with his family had never been a home. Just a house, a place of residence.
And after he'd left (against his fathers orders of course), he'd traipsed across the country, searching.
He'd worked at police department after police department, but never found one that felt right.
It wasn't like he wasn't doing a good job. All his bosses had said he was one of the best.
Maybe that was the problem. He was the best. He wasn't learning anything. He didn't realize it until years later, but he'd rather been a good agent among the best, as opposed to the best agent among the good.
Needless to say, no place ever quite felt like home.
Until NCIS.
NCIS had felt right from day one. Maybe it was Gibbs, who was the only boss he's had that had something to teach him. Maybe it was the job itself, because for the first time, he felt like what he was doing made a difference.
But no matter what he told himself, he knew neither of these was true.
Well, they were true. But they weren't the leading factor that had kept him around for so long.
He would never admit it. Not to himself. Not to anyone else.
But he was in love with Gibbs. From the moment he'd met him. The second he'd laid eyes on him at the crime case of a case they were sharing jurisdiction over.
And he was the reason he never left.
Seven years he'd worked there. It was a record. It wasn't as though he was keeping track, but others were. Like they were expecting him to up and leave on day.
But he was fairly certain he wouldn't.
He'd found his home.
And he wasn't leaving.
Reviews are great, you know the drill.
Oh, and I'll probably have a companion piece to this up in a day or two. :)
Ella