A/N - This is NOT the new story I've mentioned I'm working on but I was so filled with warm fluffies by the end of Tuesday's "What Child Is This" episode that this tag just **appeared**. Just fun fluff. Side reference to ep 7x10 "Faith".
"I provide some of the finest small batch bourbon that this nation has to offer and you want to drink in your basement?"
Sloane gestured broadly with the glass bottle as Gibbs draped his leather jacket on a dining room chair, smirking but not turning back to her as he continued into the kitchen.
Stopping to reach into a high cabinet, he pulled out two heavy tumblers, "At least I have nice glasses?"
She rolled her eyes, reaching for one but not taking it fully, forcing him to pause his movements. "Gibbs. While I appreciate not drinking 30 year old bourbon from a dirty mason jar, you do realize you have a fireplace. And a surprisingly well decorated tree... Wouldn't it be nicer to sip this impossibly smooth liquor in a cozy living room in front of a warm fire?"
With a chuckle Gibbs shrugged and turned to the basement.
Sparing a moment to sigh at the ceiling, Sloane straightened and followed him down to the workshop only to pause at the bottom of the stairs.
"Are those what I think they are?" She pointed to the wooden objects strewn across a makeshift work surface braced across the bow of his unfinished boat.
With another silent shrug, Gibbs gestured for her to come closer and hand over the bourbon.
Sloane didn't resist, dumbly passing over the bottle as she approached the table, reaching for a tiny wooden train engine. "Toys? Since when have you been an elf?"
Snickering, Gibbs remained focused on opening the bottle and pouring two healthy fingers into each glass. Taking a slow sip, he inhaled and nodded before turning to hand Sloane the other glass.
He held on to it for a beat after she wrapped her fingers around the base. "About 10 years."
Jack blinked, "Huh?"
Gibbs released his hold on the glass and gestured to the toys, "Being an elf. I've been making Christmas toys for the children's hospital for the past ten years." He took another slow sip.
She took a sip of her own drink, softening her stance and smiling up at him, "You continue to be a surprise, Cowboy."
With a smile and bounce of his eyebrows, Gibbs sidestepped the commentary, putting down his glass and picking up a model plane and small wing. "I finished most of it last night, but a few things needed to dry before being assembled and those over there could use some detailing."
Sloane put her glass down, her fingers trailing over some of the finely crafted wooden toys. "So let me get this straight, you invited on me here on Christmas Eve to help you paint? Are you Tom Sawyer? What's next? A fence?"
For a moment something flashed in Gibbs' eyes and he frowned with a step back. "I didn't…I…eh…"
Jack flicked her eyes over him, his sudden uncertainty a stark contrast to the confident warmth he had exuded most of the evening. She bit her lip, "I get it. This isn't a chore; it's something special that you're inviting me to share." She held in a deep breath, stepping into his space, a hand on his forearm, peering up, "Thank you."
"You don't have to." His reply was quiet.
A broad smile crossed her face and she turned back to the table, reaching for the detailing brushes, "So these bi-planes; are we thinking World War 1 era Armed Air Force or more of a civilian air show type?"
Gibbs hesitated, a small smile appearing while he reached for the wood glue, "All your call, Jack, whatever you want."
Nodding her affirmation, she placed her reading glasses on the edge of her nose and commenced painting a small flag on the tail.
Occasionally glancing over the rims as they worked, it wasn't long before she finished putting eyes on one last wooden doll. "So what's the plan now? How do you get the toys to the kids?"
Blowing at some wet glue, Gibbs didn't look away from the train in his hand, "Usually I drop them off early Christmas morning."
He put down the toy, "The diner will be open. We could get some breakfast after."
Jack straightened, putting down her bourbon and pulling off her glasses with her other hand, "Breakfast after?"
He shrugged, turning fully to her, pocketing his own glasses, "There isn't much in the house." He reached for the bourbon, "Aside from this and some popcorn."
Sloane's eyebrows arched.
His fingers worked the cork and he held the bottle over the rim of her glass, waiting for her permission to pour more. "Security doesn't allow gift drops before 6. So…"
"A lazy night of popcorn over the fire?" A slow smile grew on Sloane's face.
"It's an option." He replied in a low tone.
"A good one." Sloane's smile grew in to a wide grin, "You clean up; I'll start the fire." She lightly tapped him on the chest before hurrying up the stairs.
Gibbs swallowed as he watched her go, not moving until her sneakers had disappeared through the door.
"Uh-huh. Yep." He breathed out, hastily dropping the dirty brushes into a mug of water before following her up the stairs; stopping only to grab the nearly forgotten bottle of bourbon.