Who needs who?
by Caz
Rated K
Disclaimer is in force so leave me be!
'Sometimes, just sometimes, I would like to take Mr Jethro Gibbs, sit him down and give him the lecture of his life. I don't think it would get me anywhere, but damn, it would sure make me feel better.
Y'see, I have a problem. Him. Simple as that.
Ha! If only.
I would love to tell him that whatever he does and wherever he goes, I am with him, if not in body, then certainly in spirit. To most that sounds creepy, but to me - to us, it's as natural as breathing.
But the infamous Mr. Gibbs has a habit of pushing me to the utmost limit. He has 'other women' and has a nasty habit of falling 'in love' with them. Okay, I'll be honest, I have men, too, but they are as shallow to me as a saucer of milk.
But Gibbs... Gibbs goes the whole hog and it drives me insane. Why? Because he forgets I'm with him, in heart, soul and worse still, I know I'm in his head. You might say that it is the same for him, and it is. But, Gibbs is capable of shutting 'me' out. Whereas I, I am not quite so adept.
I have to endure it all. His passion, his sorrow, his wants and his fire. I see it when he seeks me out in my lab, I watch it consume him, and I feel it in my heart. But it's not the same for him. At least, I don't think so.
No, it can't be. I can't believe that he would be that indifferent to my little 'liaisons', and I can't believe that he doesn't know about them. But if he does, he does a damn good show of concealing it.
And that begs for another question that needs an answer; Why? Why does what I do not bother him? I know we are friends, more than friends. And I know that deep down he loves me as much as I love him. But hell, why doesn't it rattle him like it does me when we reach out for someone else?
Why?
Even when I - Thought I - fell in love with Marty he acted like it was okay, like it meant nothing to him that I could sever what we had between us. Maybe he had a special inkling that it was doomed for disaster and that the relationship would end even quicker than it started. And damn it, it did.
Heck, he almost pushed me into Marty's arms. HE PUSHED ME! How the hell was I supposed to take that!? I thought I was eternally grateful to him for allowing me that freedom to choose. But now, now it eats me alive that maybe the love we have between us isn't quite as strong as I thought.
But how can that be? We're supposed to be buddies. We're supposed to be more than that. So why are we, not only screwing around with other people, but screwing around with our own destinies?
I don't understand it. I don't understand 'us' anymore. And I want to, so much. I want to be able to tell him that wherever he goes, I am with him. That whatever he does, I am watching over his shoulder, whether it be right or wrong. That whatever he says, I listen, I absorb and I cherish.
I wonder if he does the same for me. My gut tells me he doesn't and my heart wants to tell me that he does. My head doesn't know the hell which way to go! It lost its way about the same time he told me in one minute that he wanted to go to Mexico to get better, and then promptly stopped me from saying goodbye because he knew it would hurt me too much. Damn right it did!
Hot and cold? More like fire and icicles. I don't know where I am because he drives me crazy!
But the one thing that is constant is how much it bothers me that he doesn't seem to care, especially when I do, desperately.
I notice it most when he comes to me when he's upset. My arms are always open wide and he always goes into them. Always. But when it is the other way around, it is still him that seeks me out and he's always there to walk into my wanting arms.
For a while it rankled; That I need him more than he needs me. That he is the stronger one and I am the weaker. The one who needs him.
But now I know different. I think he does care. He cares so damn much that he doesn't know how to deal with it. So he does the next best thing. He shuts off. He pretends.
And there I have him, in the palm of my hands. I feel I have the upper hand because I know, and I would love to tell him so. I would love to sit him in a damn chair, pin him in it so that he can't escape and tell him a few facts about our life, just so that he knows that I'm on to him. That I know he cares so deeply about me that he has to shut himself off to deal with all the things that I throw at him.
Just like I do to him sometimes.
But now I want him to react. I want him to look at me with jealousy when I go out with a guy. I want him to delve into my head and ride the waves along with me. Maybe he would be shocked if he could see what really goes through my mind.
Sometimes I even shock myself.
Because when I'm making love to another, in my mind's eye, I'm making love to Gibbs, I always am. Not very nice for the man laying beneath - or above - me, but luckily, he's not the one who's important enough for me to care.
Because when I'm feeling sad, it's only Gibbs that I want. I want to tell him that when I'm sad, it's usually because of him. Us. I want him to know that he's driving me and my body insane.
I don't want him to actually do anything about it. I just want him to know.
I wonder what he would do?