Just Say Snow
by iheartGibbs
Rating: FR7
Word Count: 446
Written for the Man of Few Words Challenge using the NFA random pairing generator and taking the first Gibbs prompt given me: Leroy Jethro Gibbs / Timothy McGee / frosty.
The silence in the room was nearly palpable. Most had gone home. Tim was still here, working on a report. But even the sound of fingers flying across keyboard keys seemed quieter than normal. Gibbs didn't mind quiet, for the most part. It was like a warm blanket: comforting after the hectic nature of life around the squad room with people buzzing through, cases being solved and wrongdoers being apprehended.
Gibbs picked up his coffee and walked to the window. He leaned against the sill and watched the snow fall. Eleven inches had accumulated since the others left: he and Tim would probably be stuck here for the night. Still, the snow was beautiful. It covered all the ugly that was the city. It reminded Gibbs of his childhood, when he would stay out in the snow for hours, coming in only when his mother threatened him if he refused. He smiled at the memory. He would come in, leave his wet clothes in a pile at the door and head to the table, where his mother had warm soup, toast and hot chocolate waiting for him. He would eat as fast as he could, as his mother spread out his clothes by the fire. When he finished his lunch, he'd head back outside in an entire new set of mismatched layers. Some days he went through half his closet, or so it seemed.
Now, snow seemed more a menace. Days of building forts and snowball fighting with his friends had become days of hunting down bad guys. Ripping and roaring around town on a snowmobile had become combating other drivers attempting to reach their destinations in worsening road conditions. Making snow angels and building snowmen had become shoveling driveways and brushing snow off cars. He wondered why imagination and finding joy in the little things in life seemed to dissipate with maturity.
"McGee, grab your gear," Gibbs barked, hiding his smile and making his way to his desk to grab his coat.
"What?" Tim looked up in surprise. "Did…?"
"Not that gear," Gibbs corrected when Tim reached for his bag. "Just your coat and gloves."
"Boss?" Tim questioned.
"We're going to make a snowman, Tim," Gibbs explained. "And then maybe have a snowball fight."
"A snowman?" Tim queried, still confused, as he shrugged into his coat, pulled on his gloves and rushed to reach the elevator.
"Yeah, like Frosty," Gibbs explained, as if Tim didn't know what a snowman was.
As the doors of the elevator closed behind them, Gibbs felt like he was a kid again, headed out to play in the snow. He only wished the others were here to play with them.
THE END