Title: The Last Seduction
Author: MindyH
Rating: T, sexual references.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to DPB et al. Lyrics belong to (The Goddess) Sarah McLachlan.
Spoilers: Not unless you still count the pilot as a spoiler.
Summary: KIBBS. He was seduced by her a long time ago but never knew it.
A/N: Sequel to "Thirty Candles". It will probably make sense if you haven't read that story but it will make much more sense if you have.
Please Note: THIS IS NOT THE FULL VERSION OF THIS STORY. I will post the first three and the final chapter, all rated T, here for younger readers. However, there are two chapters, rated NC17, which mature readers can access when I post the story in its entirety at The NCIS Fanfiction Archive. It is not up there yet, but will be shortly, I promise! Thanks again for reading, hope you enjoy! M.
"It doesn't mean much, doesn't mean anything at all,
the life I've left behind me is a cold room,
I've crossed the last line from where I can't return,
where every step I took in faith betrayed me,
and led me from my home.
And sweet, sweet surrender is all that I have to give.
You take me in, no questions asked,
you strip away the ugliness that surrounds me.
Are you an angel? Am I already that gone?
I only hope that I won't disappoint you when I'm down here on my knees.
Sweet, sweet surrender is all that I have to give…"
-x-
Part IShe cannot imagine a more perfect day.
She feels utterly drained and exhausted. Her limbs ache dully and her shoulders burn with the remnants of too much sun. Her skin is damp with a mixture of sweat and seawater and her hair is tangled and windblown. As she rests her forehead against the car window, watching the street lights flick past, her eyelids droop with something akin to jetlag.
And yet, she has never felt so happy or so content.
If this is what it's like to be thirty, Kate thinks, she doesn't know what she was so anxious about. If today is any indication, it's going to be one amazing year. Perhaps all the articles in the magazines are correct and her thirties will truly be the best time of her life.
Or perhaps she is just on a Jethro Gibbs high.
She snuggles under the light blanket that Gibbs found on his backseat and glances across at his face dimly lit by the glowing dashboard.
The previous night, she'd crawled into bed drunk, miserable and lonely. She'd played over in her mind the implausible scene of dancing so intimately with her imposing boss. But as her eyes welled with shameless tears, she forced him from her mind, lulling herself to sleep in the ersatz comfort of her own arms wrapped tightly about her unhappy body.
She had never expected the knock on her door that came the following morning or the surprise her boss had sprung on her for her thirtieth birthday. She'd been entirely incapable of hiding or suppressing her glee. She felt so incredibly touched by his uncommon idea of a birthday gift, overwhelmed by the unexpected gesture. It showed more than just taste and time and esteem. It seemed to hint at something far more profound.
When they hit the ocean, her face held high against the beckoning wind and her skin embracing the early morning rays, her heart was soaring with hope and expectation. She'd been utterly high on emotion all day, in fact. The idea of spending a full day out at sea with her normally distant boss had her feeling consistently woozy, silly, scattered, lustful, excited, impulsive.
But Gibbs was not her boss today, she'd reminded herself. In fact, there was very little present of their usual, professional dynamic.
He was eager to share his love and knowledge of boats with her, teach her the basics of sailing. Kate was more than happy to listen, studying his large hands and strong arms tugging at the tackle and manipulating the sails into proper order. And she was equally eager to learn, pulling at the ropes he told her to and helping him hoist the sails into the receiving wind.
Although the concept still sat in the back of her not fully functioning brain, she honestly had not harbored any serious intention to seduce her boss on their impromptu voyage. But they did share three more kisses on board the May December. Considering they were out on the ocean, alone, for over eight hours, she thinks really she showed remarkable restraint.
The moments arose naturally, spontaneously -- and Kate found that she just could not let them pass. She simply couldn't help herself -- not that she tried too hard to resist.
Gibbs had looked gorgeous, in his beloved element. With the sapphire sea surrounding him and the wind ruffling his hair, he looked so damn edible, so damn male, so damn good. She'd eyed him shyly in his jeans and simple, short-sleeved white shirt, unbuttoned an extra inch to expose a hint of tanned skin and silver chest hair. Something told her that he wouldn't exactly resist her advances.
Something deep and obscure had altered the night before. The little spark that neither had fostered but both were aware of since they first met had erupted into an open and insatiate fire. And once alight, it couldn't be dampened again. For once, she and Gibbs weren't shying away from each other; they weren't ignoring or destroying their obvious attraction.
Their first kiss aboard the May December arose when Gibbs offered her control of the craft. They'd been sailing for a while mostly in silence, an easy wind pushing them over the sparkling waves while a few other boats skirted around the horizon.
He beckoned her and Kate immediately obeyed, stepping closer as Gibbs moved aside. She sat down, between him and the long limb of the tiller, feeling his arm curl about her back and his hand settle beside hers to help her steer. He shifted closer, the material of his jeans brushing her bare leg as he began murmuring in her ear about wind and velocity and current.
All she could focus on, though, was his nearness. She'd turned her head to look up at him, tracing with rapt eyes the strong line of his jaw, the sharp slant of his nose and his speaking lips as he gazed out over the nose of the vessel.
After a moment, realizing that she wasn't listening, he turned and looked down at her, strangely amused, faintly bemused.
"Concentrate," he ordered quietly.
"I am," she insisted softly, her mouth turning up in a slightly wicked grin.
"On steering," Gibbs clarified, his hand picking up hers from where it had unconsciously dropped and placing both of them back on the tiller.
The action did nothing for her concentration at all. Gibbs turned back to watching their course and tried to resume his instruction but he couldn't ignore the way she was looking at him with a meditative little smile on her face.
"Kate…" he sighed impatiently, turning back to her.
But as soon as their eyes met, his words stopped. She could feel her eyes glowing with warmth and her heart thumping with excitement. It was so sinfully easy to just tip her head back in complete and utter mindless surrender and let her lips fall into his.
Gibbs parted his lips slightly to meet her and time seemed to suspend for a moment as their mouths slid over one another, tugging and tasting and savoring. She reached up with one hand to caress the jaw she'd been admiring, her fingers drifting slowly, lightly up and down the stubble and skin. She couldn't help a little whimper as Gibbs' teeth scraped over her bottom lip, then his tongue whipped out to smooth over the same spot.
They drew apart, knowing that what they were exploring was only the tip of an enormous, mysterious, intimate iceberg. He shot her another inscrutable look, his eyes scanning her face momentarily before they both turned back to steering the boat.
The second opportunity for her to get closer to Gibbs arose when they stopped for lunch. The sun was high and hot when Gibbs threw the anchor down and she pulled out their lunch. The man had even managed to find and pack her favorite sandwich and iced tea.
They sat on the ship's bow, side by side, legs dangling overboard, as they gazed out at the beautiful landscape. Each holding a sandwich in one hand and a bottle of drink between their legs, they munched and chatted, broaching only fairly general and safe topics.
During a lull in the conversation, Kate had glanced over at her unlikely birthday companion. Slipping her sunglasses up onto her head, she noticed a dollop of mustard lingering around the corner of Gibbs' mouth. She smiled and reached out, wiping it off with her thumb. Gibbs turned to look at her; then, without looking away, he swiped the back of his hand over his whole mouth and gave her a childish grin.
She grinned back and leaned in, capturing his lips with her own and giving him several quick, affectionate, slurpy kisses. She kept her eyes open, squinting through the glare of the sunlight as she watched his eyes close and his mouth grin, kissing her back.
When she pulled away, Gibbs sighed lightly, tucking her hair behind her ear then taking another big bite of his sandwich. Refusing to destroy a gorgeous day or their enjoyable behavior with endless second-guessing or internal disapprobation, Kate simply drew her sunglasses back over her eyes and turned back to the view.
In the dark car, she rolls onto her other side, curling her legs beneath her and resting her head on the curve of the seat, her face turned towards Gibbs. She knows he's not watching and that, even if he were, it's too dark for him to see the blush on her cheeks. But somehow, she fears he will know in that bizarre way he has, exactly what she is thinking of.
The last kiss that they shared was the most memorable. The first two times that she kissed him -- while he certainly didn't resist – Gibbs' response had been slightly hesitant, restrained, even puzzled.
By mid-afternoon, he was thoroughly relaxed. Warmed by the sun and her previous offerings, he lay dozing, stretched comfortably on the starboard bench, with legs crossed at the ankles and her white captain's hat sitting over his face. Only his mouth was visible from beneath the brim, turned upwards in a sleepy, contented smirk. His chest rose and fell, his breathing deep and rhythmic as they floated idly, anchored on the rippling water, the white sails flapping overhead.
Rising from where she'd been sitting, deep in thought, Kate had tiptoed closer and leant over him, coveting that idiosyncratic smirk more than ever. One hand braced her against the edge of the boat as she peered down at him. She smiled softly, her eyes drifting over him-- then slowly she lowered her lips until they hovered over his.
Taking a silent breath, she moved in, touching down gently and tugging at his lips once with a sweet, gentle urgency.
As she slowly withdrew, a large hand rose to pull her down again and all of a sudden, Gibbs began to reciprocate with all the passion she'd suspected he'd been denying and withholding all day. He pushed her lips apart, tasting her with his tongue and groaning deeply. Pulling her closer, she fell to her knees, kneeling beside the bench where he lay and draping herself over his chest.
One small, daring hand slipped inside the opening of his shirt, roving over the muscular contours of his chest as she kissed him with everything she had. He turned towards her, one hand cupping her head and the other clasped about her waist, keeping her close as the cap fell from his face to the deck.
Curled up beside Gibbs in his car, Kate nearly groans aloud at the memory.
The sun has disappeared entirely now, taking with it all the warmth of the day. It feels like they've been gone for days, weeks; a lifetime. She could have spent forever out there on the open waters with him. Morning seems like an aeon ago and already she dreads Monday morning when she will have to forget all about the peace and bliss and fun that they have experienced together today.
She wishes it didn't have to end. She wishes she didn't have this dinner to go to. She is trying to enjoy the last few moments she has with Gibbs, while still hoping that he might choose to come with her.
She'd suggested it as they headed back to the coast. Somehow, she thought it important to ask before they were ashore again. She's not entirely sure that he won't dismiss what happened between them on the high seas as a anomalous event, just a bit of meaningless flirting, a rare indulgence for both of them. She's not at all sure that the rules on land are as free as they were at sea.
"Gibbs," she'd spoken up hesitantly, shivering in the cooling wind: "This dinner tonight is very casual. Just a few friends, my sister's in town with her husband. No big deal…" she added, attempting to sound nonchalant: "but you're welcome to come."
Gibbs looked over at her in the deepening sunset light, his blue eyes fixed on her intently. And she knew there was no point in trying to hide or pretend. She stood and moved closer, sitting beside him and gazing out at the disappearing horizon for a moment. Then she turned to him, looking him in the eye.
"I'd love you to come," she amended softly.
Gibbs smiled slightly, but didn't respond. He just nodded ambiguously, which she took to mean he'd consider the idea.
She doesn't want to even think about the dinner right now. She doesn't feel like dressing up and going out. She is not even excited about seeing her friends or sister. The car is warm and quiet and she is content to just admire Gibbs' hands as he drives.
The only thing that could make her happier right now is a soft bed or a hot bath. Preferably with his big body curled up against her.
She smiles to herself and hums quietly at the inviting image. But her imaginary contentment evaporates when she starts to recognize the streets and signposts of her own neighborhood. Shutting her eyes, she burrows deeper into her warm cocoon, wishing to remain in her fantasy world a little longer.
Sooner than she wants, however, the car pulls up and the engine dies. She feels Gibbs turn to her, assuming she is asleep. He lets out a breath and sweeps a stray lock of hair off her face.
She opens her eyes, catching his thoughtful expression before he has a chance to mask it. She gazes up at him, silent and content, as he shifts in his seat and points down the street at her building.
"Home," he murmurs, glancing back at her: "safe and sound."
She smiles back but doesn't move. He's gonna have to kick her butt out of this car, she thinks stubbornly. Maybe if she's really lucky, he'll actually carry her inside.
"Tired?" he asks, quietly amused.
She nods and groans low in her throat: "In a good way," she sighs, stretching her limbs a little beneath the blanket. She drops her eyes and mumbles: "I wish I didn't have this thing to go to…"
"You know," he muses, staring out the front window: "I might tag along tonight."
He turns to look at her, eyebrows raised questioningly, waiting for her to raise any objections. Her own brows rise sleepily in surprised response. If he's expecting any resistance on her part, he is going to be sorely disappointed.
She just nods and replies lightly: "Okay."
"I'll, ah…" he shrugs and jabs a thumb at the boat on the trailer behind them: "I'll just lock up her ladyship, change my shirt and I'll be back to pick you up in--" he glances at the clock on the dashboard: "an hour?"
"Alright," she nods, suddenly not so sleepy or sad.
This is a very unexpected turn of events. She opens her door and slips out of the car, shivering as she unwraps herself and leaves the blanket on the passenger seat. He lifts her bag off the back seat and hands it across to her, their fingers brushing slightly. She flicks her eyes back to his, one hand on the car door and the other pulling her bag up over her shoulder.
"Thanks for today, Gibbs," she smiles, unable to fully communicate what his birthday gift has meant to her: "It was… beautiful and … perfect."
"Good," nods Gibbs shortly then starts the engine again. "One hour," he tells her, hands already spinning the wheel.
She nods in response, slamming the door and watching him drive away with the May December in tow. Then, she dashes up the sidewalk to her building, a high-pitched giggle escaping her as she takes the stairs two at a time and crashes through the front door, her heart fluttering with expectation.
TBC…(soon!)