a/n: it's always fun to do a little first christmas !
Alexandria, Virginia
December 24th, 2016
Jennifer Gibbs watched her husband fix the wood burning fire just right, basking in the warmth of the flames and the red and green brightness of the Christmas tree. She lifted her legs and stretched them over the wooden coffee table, leaning back with a sigh.
Anna was happily fed and half asleep in her arms, and Jenny was looking forward to about a week of holiday time off – and she needed it, bad. She closed her eyes lightly and tilted her head towards the ceiling. A mere moment later, Gibbs was standing behind the couch, staring down at her; she felt his shadow fall over her and opened her eyes.
He smirked at her.
"You look exhausted," he muttered sympathetically.
She nodded a little. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then reached out to stroke his knuckles against her jaw, looking down at Anna for a moment. Jenny blinked, pursing her lips. She was about to make a request of him when –
"You want hot chocolate or something?" he asked gruffly.
He kept his voice quiet, because sometimes he was unintentionally loud and he had a bad habit of accidentally startling Anna back into wakefulness. The baby looked at them both lazily, her eyes fluttering heavily.
"Any of that hot apple cider Noemi made left?" Jenny murmured hopefully.
"Mm-hm," Gibbs mumbled. He ran his knuckles lightly over her jaw again and then nodded affirmatively. He straightened up, ran his fingers through her hair, and then headed quietly for the kitchen.
Jenny arched her eyebrows at the baby and shifted forward, sighing tiredly, but contently. She moved Anna gently from the crook of her arm and settled her comfortably on her knees, taking the soft blanket off of her shoulder and laying it over the arm of the sofa.
The three-month-old was snuggled up in some warm, festive Christmas pajamas – and she'd spent the whole day in an adorable hat and dress set that made her look like a baby reindeer – courtesy of, believe it or not, her grandfather.
Gibbs clanged some mugs together in the kitchen and Jenny rolled her eyes good-naturedly – he never intentionally woke the baby, but for some reason he seemed to turn into a uncoordinated troll the moment Anna was on the brink of sleep.
Jenny stood up and gingerly cradled Anna against her shoulder, murmuring softly in the baby's ear and waltzing over to the Christmas tree with her. She stood there a moment, enjoying the cloying warmth of the fire. Anna had sat happily in her swing watching Jenny decorate one night a couple of weeks ago, her large blue eyes fixed with fascination on all the shiny, colourful ornaments.
Staring with curiosity and touching things and kicking her feet and smiling when Jenny talked to her or laughing outright when Gibbs interacted with her was about all Anna did this Christmas – which was either a relief or a bit disappointing; Jenny hadn't decided yet. The laughing was new, though – Anna's first laugh had happened exactly a week before Christmas Eve, when Gibbs brought home a gag gift he'd received at an on base gift exchange and put it on – bright green, fuzzy reindeer ears and a huge red Rudolph nose.
"Jethro," Jenny said softly, turning away from the tree. He turned to glance at her, and she pointed to the baby. "I'm going to put her to bed."
Gibbs turned a burner down to simmer and stepped away from the stove, striding over swiftly. Jenny prepared herself to relinquish the baby, a wry smile touching her lips – but he didn't try to take her. He put his hand on Anna's back and kissed the back of her head.
Jenny arched a brow – Gibbs always wanted to put Anna down for the night. It was just his thing – mostly because Jenny was obsessively refusing to use formula for Anna until she was at least six months old, and she wasn't always great about pumping, so more often than not she was the only one getting up in the middle of the night. Gibbs usually did bedtime, and first thing in the morning.
He ran his hand over Anna's back a few times, and then tilted his head, looking at her sleepy little face. She opened her eyes heavily and stared at him. She smiled, and he smiled back.
"Merry Christmas," he wished her in a quiet tone.
Jenny wrinkled her nose affectionately and stepped away.
"At least set out some cookies or something," she whispered to Gibbs, giving him a wink as she sidestepped him and headed up the stairs to lay Anna down in her nursery.
There had been some holiday additions to the violet-and-cream coloured nursery. Jenny had strung sparkly silver garland around the crib Gibbs had built, and she'd hung mistletoe from Anna's mobile and set out some festive stuffed animals – most notably a big, plush Clarisse from the movie old movie, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. It sat in Anna's crib, but Jenny always removed it when the baby was sleeping.
She removed that stuffed animal now and placed it in the rocking chair. She didn't turn any lights on in the nursery; Anna would stay sleepy if nothing bright jolted her out of it. She was fed and dry, and she'd probably sleep until at least five a.m. Anna was a good sleeper, now that she was a little older and her mother was very good about enforcing a sleep routine.
She took a moment to stand there with Anna before she put her in the crib – it was her baby's first Christmas Eve, after all, even if the little girl didn't even have an inkling of the holiday or its traditions. Jenny lifted Anna from her shoulder and looked at her fondly for a moment, and then she laid her down gingerly in the crib, resting her hand on Anna's stomach. Anna moved around a little, kicking her feet lazily and moving her arms, and then she stretched her arms out over her head and settled down, her eyes closed firmly, and her chest rising and falling steadily.
Jenny checked to make sure a pacifier was hanging off one of the bars of the crib – fastened with a soft, velvety ribbon to a clip, and she made sure there were no stray stuffed animals or blankets left.
She pressed her finger to her mouth, kissed them, and brushed Anna's brow.
"You wait until next year," she murmured, glancing up at the silver garland and then back down at the sleeping baby. "Santa comes next year!" she whispered.
She stood there another moment, then checked the time – it was about eight, later than usual. She turned on a soft noisemaker for Anna, then turned the baby monitor up and tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door cracked.
She took the other part of the baby monitor from the master bedroom and then went back downstairs. She strolled into the kitchen, where Gibbs was standing at the stove again, and she set it on the counter. She sighed dramatically and nudged Gibbs' arm, burrowing under it and sidling up to his side.
She closed her eyes and dropped her head heavily against his shoulder.
He grinned, and put one arm around her, watching Noemi's hot apple cider simmer as it heated up to an appropriate temperature. He ran his hand over her arm lightly and grunted.
"What'd you decide?" he asked.
She bit her lip.
"Hmmm," she murmured thoughtfully, opening her eyes. She inhaled the spicy-sweet scent of the cider and then shrugged a little.
He was asking her about Anna's first Christmas; she had been torn, since December started, between being a little downhearted that Anna was too young for Santa Claus tales and classic Christmas movies – at least too young to understand them at all – and being relieved that the added stress of orchestrating the Santa myth wouldn't hit them until next year.
"It's bittersweet," she decided neutrally. She shrugged a little, eyes still on the cider. "Well, not even bitter," she amended. "You're home, which is more than a lot of Marine wives can ask for."
He nodded, and grinned.
"Honestly," she admitted a little sheepishly, "I barely got shopping done for Dad, for Noemi," she listed. "It's nice that she's so little, we don't have to do much. Just be together." Jenny laughed. "I can wait a year to play Mrs. Claus."
Gibbs squeezed her a little closer, shaking the small saucepan he was using to stir around the liquid. She closed her eyes again, and gave a pitiful little whine.
"I'm tired," she whimpered playfully. "Having a baby is hard, feel bad for me."
"I have a baby, too," he retorted seriously.
"Actually," Jenny said dramatically, "it's probably time I told you, Anna's real father – "
Gibbs pinched her, and she squealed, nudging him with her knee. He gave her a glare and she smirked.
"You should've taken more'n two weeks, Jen," he said, giving her a look.
She twitched her nose at him and shrugged, detaching herself. She leaned against the counter and faced him, licking her lips. She didn't say anything for a moment – when Anna had been born in October, she'd taken two weeks maternity leave from Langley, which had annoyed Gibbs and stunned her father. The CIA had offered to give her six weeks, four of them paid, and she hadn't taken them up on the offer – not all at once, at least.
"I needed to get used to working, being away from her," she said calmly. "Jethro, I need that month in the new year."
"You didn't know I was gonna get deployed," he pointed out, "they coulda just kept me on at Quantico until I discharge."
Jenny met his eyes pointedly.
"You and I both knew they'd send you back to close down the bases," she told him bluntly. "They need a sniper for cover, and you're the best they've got."
Gibbs gave her a smug look and held up his hand like a pistol, pretending to blow smoke off of it. She rolled her eyes at him and slapped his hand down lightly, starting to leave the kitchen.
He caught her and pulled her back, pulling her close and pressing his lips close to her ear.
"Think you better check under the tree, Jen," he murmured in her ear.
She tilted her head, then shifted back and gave him a look, her lips parted curiously.
He nodded at her, and winked slyly. She brushed his arms off gently and wandered into the living room, her eyes on the tree – and there, just under it, and near the hearth, were a couple of neatly wrapped gifts that hadn't been there mere moments before, when he kissed Anna goodnight.
She folded her arms and looked down at them, her mouth twisted in a funny smile. Behind her, Gibbs sat down on the couch with two mugs of hot cider, one on the table for her, and one held in his hands, balanced on his knees.
"You gonna open 'em?" he asked.
She turned.
"You put these out in the five minutes I was upstairs?"
He gave her a serious look and shrugged.
"Wasn't me."
"Where were you hiding them?" she asked, bemused.
"It was Santa," he said emphatically, glaring at her.
She gave him a look and then crouched down, reaching out to touch one – there was a medium sized box, wrapped perfectly, a pristinely packaged gift bag, and a tiny box – wrapped just as neatly.
"Hmm, I'll buy it," Jenny murmured, glancing at him wryly, "you can't wrap this well," she teased.
He shrugged, and then grinned at her. She sat down and crossed her legs, her back to the fire, facing him.
"Jethro," she admonished, pretending to scowl. "We're doing gifts tomorrow, at Dad's."
Gibbs nodded.
"Yeah, and you're doin' those tonight," he said simply. "Open 'em – one of 'em is sorta from my dad," he added gruffly."
Jenny smiled at him, and leaned forward, taking a guess. She touched her fingers to the bag, and Gibbs nodded – that was the one he'd received from Jackson, though Gibbs had taken it out of the brown UPS packaging and placed it in a nice bag.
Jenny pulled it towards her and carefully took aside the tissue paper, peering inside. It was simple enough – she pulled out a Raggedy Ann doll, and an old, worn looking – but very delicately hand-made – Christmas stocking with the name 'Ann' stitched into it in gold.
She held the doll in one hand, the stocking in the other, and looked up at her husband, her cheeks flushed.
"Did this doll used to be yours?" she asked smartly, a twinkle in her eye.
Gibbs glared at her, and shook his head slowly.
"Looks new," he said seriously – it probably was; his old man was the only person probably capable of getting his hands on a brand new Raggedy Ann; they weren't very popular. Gibbs nodded his head at the stocking. "That's Mom's," he said gruffly.
"Is it for Anna?" Jenny asked earnestly. She sat the doll neatly in her lap and then examined the old stocking, running her hands over the stitching. "It's gorgeous."
"I think she made it," Gibbs said. "She made mine and Dad's," he added. "Dad figured you could add an 'A', keep it for Anna."
"I can't sew!" Jenny said, laughing a little.
"Slap a letter on there with some glitter glue," Gibbs muttered, shrugging.
Jenny laughed louder, holding the stocking to her chest – Gibbs, suggesting glitter glue to her: it seemed like an omen of the years to come, considering they had a daughter now.
"Did Kayla teach you about glitter glue?" Jenny asked wryly.
Gibbs nodded solemnly, taking a long swig of cider.
"Yeah, she made me a card with it," Gibbs said. "It gets everywhere," he added darkly.
Jenny beamed – it was that glittery, extravagant card hanging up in the basement, and despite what he said, Gibbs was extremely proud of the card from his goddaughter.
Jenny laid the two items on the fireplace reverently and then reached for the other two boxes.
She opened the first – a jewelry box, which she could have guessed. She opened the smooth, velvety black box delicately, and looked inside. It was a pair of earrings – nothing too extravagant, but very lovely, iridescent gem earrings.
She touched one with her index finger.
"Are these opals?" she asked softly.
"Anna's birthstone," Gibbs said. He watched her admiring the earrings and was glad she seemed to like them. "Jackie gave me the idea," he said gruffly. "She had Kayla's birthstone laid into Leon's old dog tags."
Jenny's fingers brushed the dog tag she always wore at her neck – the old one he'd given her back when he was leaving on his first deployment, before they were anywhere close to married.
She looked up and smiled, and then she pushed her hair back and put the earrings in, touching them in her ears and meting Gibbs' eyes expectantly. He nodded with approval, and then she looked at the other gift.
"I'd asked you what you did, but I know you better," she murmured, her cheeks flushed a little from being so spoiled.
He grinned at her, and pointed to the final box, drinking his cider blithely. She sighed as if exhausted with his lavishing, and she opened the final box – and that was a practical gift; sitting in her lap was a brand new, incredibly high-end camera.
She opened her mouth in surprise.
She spread her palms reverently over the box.
Gibbs cleared his throat a little.
"Got a little selfish," he admitted, as she opened it – he'd already opened it and examined it to make sure it was fitting, so she could take it right out and admire it herself. "You got to send me pictures of Anna, while I'm deployed."
She held up the camera, and looked through the viewfinder. Before he could protest, she snapped a picture - just a lone one, of him sitting there with a mug of cider, on a couch covered in infant blankets and little rattles.
He gave her a look, and she grinned, looking down at the display – the picture was so clear, so worth what he'd probably paid for it.
"Good pictures, Jen," he said earnestly, gruffly. "I don't want to miss anything I don't have to."
She nodded, and looked up. She bit her lip, smiling, and then set the camera in the box, standing up. She placed it on the table away from the fire, and came to sit down next to him.
She leaned over and kissed his jaw; she turned his face towards her and kissed his lips.
"I wouldn't let you miss anything," she murmured seriously, pressing her forehead to his for a moment. She took a deep breath. She gave him a wry look. "I suppose you'll only have eyes for her, now," she whispered dramatically. "No more of me in various compromising – "
"I still want those," he interrupted quickly.
She laughed.
"You stick with the ones I gave you before Anna," she said dryly. "They're more attractive – "
He pinched her thigh lightly and shook his head, sliding his arm around her middle.
"I like how you look now," he growled.
"Hmm," she snorted vaguely. She reached for her mug – it was cooled off now, perfect drinking temperature; she never understood how her husband drank scalding hot drinks right off the burner.
She curled her feet up on the couch, looking around - at the fireplace, at the Christmas gifts, the tree. She rested her head on Gibbs' shoulder and took a long drink of the cider – and let out a surprised breath.
"Jethro, did you – "
"Whiskey," he said wickedly, nodding.
"Is there anything you don't put whiskey in?" Jenny asked, laughing quietly.
Gibbs was quiet for a moment.
"Cereal," he finally answered seriously.
He was quiet again.
"Bourbon's good on pancakes," he piped up.
Jenny laughed again, muffling the sound in another sip of Noemi's – enhanced – hot apple cider. She took a long draught of the welcome warm drink and curled up to Gibbs – grateful he was home, grateful that Christmas had fallen on a weekend this year, so he could spend two uninterrupted days with his wife and daughter – if Christmas was on a weekday, he worked like any other soldier still at home.
"You're taking that leave in January, Jen?" he asked gruffly.
"Mm-hmm," she assured him. "To get used to being by myself, do my law school applications," she murmured.
"Langley still going to pay you?"
"Yes," she said, relieved.
He nodded. He still thought that if she'd taken more time right after she'd had the baby, she wouldn't have been so overwhelmed and stressed for the first two months – but now Anna was sleeping through the night, and Jenny was adjusted, and everything seemed to be settling in.
She adamantly wanted the leave when Gibbs was gone and she had to re-adjust her schedule again, and that was up to her.
"Don't know what I'm gonna do, after I leave the Marines," he said, his lips in her hair. "You want me to take a month or so, after I leave? Be home with Anna?" he offered.
She thought about it – the Marines would help him a little to find something Civilian, but not much, and he'd need time to sort that out. It would be fine if he extended that time to take a sort of … belated paternity leave.
Jenny tilted her head up and smirked at him.
"Yeah, take some time off," she said, "and I'll be going down to part time at Langley, or switching somewhere else, as I start law school – we take down time when we can."
"Like now," he pointed out.
"Like now," she agreed.
He wrapped his arms around her, accidentally knocking his mug against hers a little, and she laughed softly, closing her eyes and resting her head against his chest – it was a good first Christmas with Anna, a peaceful, relaxed one; she was glad he was home, she was glad they were stationed – and living – permanently in the Virginia area, and with Christmas at the Colonel – General's house – tomorrow to look forward to, it was a very happy baby's first Christmas – even if she had no clue what was being celebrated.
December 24th, 2016
-alexandra
story #234