Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: I haven't written FF in ages, life has been one roller-coaster ride after the other. On top of that my muse decided to go on hiatus and refused to return.

This is my first Slibbs fic, I was inspired by all the great writers out there who've already written some great pieces. I don't think there is any plot to this, I just desperately wanted them to get together. This feels slightly OOC and it's not all that great, but hey, everyone knows I'm sappy ;) To all my Jibbs readers, no I haven't abandoned our ship.

Warning: Not much, I just borrowed some dialog from 'The Princess Bride'

"Come on, Gibbs, 'The Princess Bride'."

"Yeah… Yeah, I know. It's just been a while" 16x7

Enjoy*

The gentle back and forth of the sander was almost soothing as it slid across the wood – almost. Slapping the sander on the nearest flat surface, he wandered towards the workbench. Half a bottle of bourbon already waiting for him. Pulling the bottle of Maker's Mark closer, he filled his mug with a copious amount of amber liquid.

Gripping the bottle tightly, he watched the liquid slosh around inside the tempered glass. A frown creased his brow as he hooked a nail under the bottle's label. He couldn't remember when he had opened it, the frown quickly disappeared when he found the answer to his predicament.

The other mug sitting on his workbench brought a small smirk to his lips. Jethro hooked a finger around the ear of the empty mug, bringing it closer for inspection. Holding it up in the dim light, he found the barest smear of nude pink on the brim.

He preferred sharing a couple of beers with Jacqueline Sloane and listening to her regale him with strange encounters in her profession. Some nights he found himself in her office, doing his paperwork at the small coffee table while she was busy with her own.

The pretense of keeping secrets had gone right out the window the first night Elena had been placed in their custody. The onslaught of memories had been strong, and Jack was too perceptive to let it slide. When the little girl had been tucked in safely, he had told Jack about his own little girl.

Jethro let his gaze drift to the metal box that sat neatly against the wall, a quiet reminder of the first time he'd considered kissing her. He licked his dry lips, his mind flickering with images.

Jack had been staring back at him, the smile on her lips faint. She appeared to be glowing in the dim light of the lamp hanging above them. He was mesmerized by every inch of her. He found himself gripping his beer bottle for dear life that night, trying to stop himself from tucking a wisp of golden locks behind her ear. Her eyes had reminded him of honey smooth and warm – sweet.

He shook his head. He had been tempted to close the distance between them, but he'd ultimately lost his nerve. If he had been ten years younger, he might have followed through. But, he wasn't, and it had been a while since a woman had actually shown any interest in him.

Things had been a little tense between them after the Ray Jennings case. It had been a natural reflex on his part to take her hand in his, to feel the softness of her touch on his skin. Maybe he'd let too much of his feelings slip when she'd looked at him? Or maybe his feelings were simply one sided.

Reaching for his mug of bourbon, he took a healthy gulp, the alcohol burning down his throat.

He'd avoided her the last two weeks. Hoping he'd get a better hold of his rapidly failing self-control. It gave him some time to think about what it was he wanted to get himself into. She'd been busy with cases from other teams, giving him a good enough excuse for his distance.

Jethro scrubbed a hand over his face, hoping to force the tiredness away long enough for him to get some work done on the boat. Grabbing a different sander, he moseyed towards the piece of wood he'd been busy with, the mug of bourbon in the other hand.

He stopped when he heard a muffled voice. He checked his watch, wondering which one of his team would show up on a Friday night. A pair of white sneakers appeared at the top of the stairs, the light shining in his eyes not helping identify who it was.

"Howdy, Cowboy." A familiar voice rang through his basement.

Jethro wiped his hands on a cloth, running a hand through his hair to dislodge the wood shavings. Taking a drink of his bourbon, he watched as she descended the stairs, puzzled as to why she was here. Even tough he never listened to scuttlebutt, he did happen to overhear as he passed someone that Jack had a date tonight.

"Jack." Came his greeting as he watched her curiously.

She rounded the boat, her brown eyes dancing over the bare frame with quiet amusement. Slender fingers touched a smooth rib, gliding elegantly, the question right there on the tip of her tongue. But, like every other night she wandered into the basement, she refrained from asking why he was building a boat down here.

Jethro offered her his mug as she stopped in front of him. He met her warm gaze over the brim, discreetly watching her as she sipped his bourbon thoughtfully.

"Thought you had a date." He didn't look away when she raised an eyebrow at him. Shrugging his shoulders, he took the mug off her hands. "The orange walls have ears." He snorted at his own joke when she let out a laugh, mirth dancing in pools of honey as she fluttered her eyes at him.

Jack studied him, watching the slight flush on his cheeks spread to the tips of his ears. She chewed the inside of her lip as he stared at her, hoping to hide the nerves that suddenly bubbled up inside her. Sliding her hands in her back pockets, she blinded him with another smile.

"Actually, I do have a date." There was the barest hint of uncertainty in her voice, but he didn't seem to notice.

Jethro swallowed the last drop of bourbon, hoping to hide the disappointment. He nodded before making his way back to the workbench, suddenly dead set on finishing the bottle tonight. Hoping to drown the jealousy lurking at the back of his mind.

"That's if you don't mind pizza and beer." She smiled as his head snapped up sharply, silver eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Bishop invited me to her goat-yoga class, and I did not want to go. So I brought dinner instead."

Jethro shrugged his shoulders, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he wiped his hands again with a rag. "I guess I could eat." He followed her upstairs, a gentle hand resting on the small of her back. He couldn't help but notice that she looked really good in a pair of jeans and a casual jumper.

Jack bit her lip again. She'd never been this flustered around a man before. She usually had better control over her nerves, but this was nothing more than dinner between friends. Right? That's what she thought a few months ago as well, and she'd almost ended up kissing him in his basement.

The slight pressure of his palm on her back had her spinning around, almost knocking the beer bottles out of his hand. Tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear, she relieved him of one chilled bottle, trying to ignore the concern on his face.

"You okay, Jack?" His eyes were gentle, sucking her into their blue depths.

"Yeah." She smiled, clinking her glass bottle against his. "Let's eat."

Jethro threw himself down on the couch, slice of pizza in hand as he finally relaxed. He reached for the TV's remote, hoping that he'd find one of his favorite westerns. Irritation flashed across his face when the damn thing didn't work. Slamming it against his knee, he tried again.

"Aggression never works, Gibbs." Jack pointed out as she rummaged through her handbag.

"Yeah, well, it works for me." He grumbled as he slammed the piece of plastic on the coffee table.

Jack smiled, sauntering over to the old TV. She could feel his eyes on her as she bent down, pressing the right buttons in order for the TV to come to life. Satisfied with herself she waited until the old VCR kicked into life, whirring softly.

"How'd you get it to work?" He sounded skeptical, waiting for the old piece of technology to stutter to a stop.

She gave him that look that meant she was up to no good. Grabbing a slice of now cold pizza, she flopped down next to him. "Let's just say, I'm equipped."

Jethro rolled his eyes, the tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment. "McGee." Trust Tim to let a comment like that slip. He growled quietly as he drank his beer. He didn't even want to know how Jack had found out, but he was willing to put his money on either Torres or Bishop.

Jack settled next to him, close enough to smell the faintest whiff of sawdust. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he shifted, first closer to her and then freezing when he realized what he was doing. She'd found herself spending more time with him recently.

In the beginning he had presented her with a challenge, never showing any form of emotion or reaction. He'd stare at her, eyes guarded, silently daring her to try and read him. In the beginning she'd fallen head first in his trap, his only sign of victory, a small smirk as he took one of her lollipops.

As she got to know him, she had come to enjoy the little arrogant smirk he gave her when she couldn't figure out what he was up to. She felt her stomach flutter as he unconsciously shifted towards her again. She turned towards him fractionally, so she could get a better look at him.

Deep brown eyes traced over his features. It was evident that he wasn't as young as he used to be, but it didn't take away the fact that he was still an attractive man. Those sparkling blue eyes had drawn her in the moment she had met him, and occasionally she dreamed of endless pools of blue. The faint scar under his eye reminded her of the hell they both shared.

"You done starin'?" His voice startled her. Jack bit her lip, trying to muffle the gasp she almost let slip.

Jethro looked at her, a sliver eyebrow raised. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as she smiled shyly and turned her attention back to the old TV. Giving him ample opportunity to admire how beautiful she looked in the soft glow of a nearby lamp.

The house was momentarily quiet as the film's title appeared on screen. The atmosphere between them shifted. She was all too aware that she might be pushing a number of his boundaries tonight. The breath he took sounded heavy, pained even. She reached out towards him, her hand resting on his knee.

"We can watch something else." She was willing to give him a way out. All too familiar with what it was like reliving painful memories.

Jethro grit his teeth, his brow furrowed with torment. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he shook his head, meeting her concerned eyes. "The Princess Bride..." He placed his hand over hers, "Guess it's better than a repeat western."

Jack gave his knee a reassuring squeeze, sensing that there was something else that he had wanted to say. The glistening in his eyes made her almost feel bad for springing this on him so suddenly. Shifting her attention back to the film, she felt Jethro grasp her hand in his. This time she didn't dare pull away.

The film was almost over, and he'd abandoned the pretense of paying attention to the movie, instead he focused his attention on the woman next to him. He was all too aware of her tonight. She was biting the tip of her thumb, something she did when she was particularly engrossed, but this time there was a smile on her lips.

The characters on screen finally shared the much awaited kiss. Her hand dropped to her chest, her contentment with the ending visible in her eyes. He silently wished that their night wouldn't end, it had been years since he actually enjoyed a film, even if he didn't pay attention.

Jack dropped her head against the back of the couch, eyes shut as she listened to the soundtrack. She felt Jethro's hand slip out of hers, but she refused to open her eyes. She could hear him stand up, but he moved around quietly.

She heard him shuffle around the kitchen. Reluctantly opening her eyes, she grabbed the empty pizza box, heading to help him in the kitchen. The percolator was already whirring as she came up behind him. He glanced at her over his shoulder, giving her a smile as she stretched her stiff muscles.

"You enjoy the movie?" It was a silly question, but he just wanted to hear her voice.

"Yeah." She stood next to him, her shoulder pressing against his. "It's timeless."

He simply nodded, once again bombarded with memories. Pouring them each a cup of coffee, he slid the sugar container towards Jack, watching in distaste as she nearly emptied half the container in her coffee. Placing a hand on the small of her back, he led her back to the couch.

They sipped their coffee in silence for a few minutes. Clearing his throat, Jethro turned towards her. "Kelly had discovered the movie when she was about seven." He chuckled. "She watched it so much that she could recite most of it from memory."

Jack offered him a comforting smile. It didn't take much of her psychological knowledge to deduce that Gibbs had been absolutely smitten with his little girl.

They finished the rest of their coffee in silence. They were both reluctant for the night to end. Placing the old tape back in its case, Jack once again wandered into the kitchen, watching as Jethro rinsed the two mugs they had used.

He dried his hands on a dishtowel, leaning against the sink. Watching the woman across from him as she met his gaze. She didn't seem phased by his sudden urge to constantly look at her. His eyes flicked down to her lips as she licked them, and he had to swallow.

Before he knew it, he was a few inches away from her. He could smell her perfume, a scent so soft and sweet, but strong enough to cling to the fabric of his clothing whenever she touched him. The light above them reflected in her dark eyes, turning them into pools of liquid gold.

A tendril of blonde hair enticed him to wrap it around his finger, feeling its velvety weight as he tucked it behind her ear. Roughened fingers brushed against her cheek as he slowly dropped his hand back to his side. He could feel his heart thunder in his throat as her eyes fluttered at the contact. Unconsciously he leaned down towards her; her breath warm against his lips.

Jack could feel her breathing speed up, she feared that if he stalled any longer she might actually start to hyperventilate. Smoldering blue eyes met hers, the uncertainty in them a surprising change. Placing a hand on his chest, she could feel his heart hammer against his ribs. Grabbing a fist full of his dark blue Marine hoodie she pulled him closer.

"Kiss me." She whispered hoarsely.

Jethro weaved his fingers in her hair, an arm slipping around her waist and pulling her against him. "As you wish."

Jack's eyes slid shut as Jethro kissed her, lips meeting for the first time. He was gentle, teasingly coaxing her into kissing him back. She placed a hand on his cheek, the barest hint of a stubble scratching the palm of her hand. She felt light headed, getting lost in the way he was kissing her.

Jethro curled his fingers in the light jumper she had on, pulling her against him. Both her hands were on either side of his face, preventing him from pulling away. The need for air had them both quietly gasping. Jack grinned as he wrapped his other arm around her waist as well.

Standing on the tips of her toes, she kissed him again. The tip of her tongue tracing his bottom lip enough of an invitation for him to part his lips. One hand was in his hair, manicured nails scraping against his scalp causing the fire in the pit of his stomach to intensify. He moaned in the back of his throat as she stopped her ministrations.

They simply stared at each other, chests heaving. He moved a stray strand of hair out of her face, finding himself getting lost in her eyes once again.

The air felt sticky as he tried to catch his breath. Blood was still rushing through his veins, heart thumping almost out of control. His muscles still quivered and contracted sporadically whenever his lover shifted against him.

Jack kept her legs locked around his hips, determined to keep him in place for as long as possible. She eased the death grip she had on his ribs, leaning up to kiss him as an apology for the crescent shapes her nails had left behind. She relaxed, her legs sliding down the back of his.

Jethro shifted, laying down next to her, one arm thrown casually above his head. He placed his hand on her thigh, massaging gently. He focused on her ragged breathing, hoping to keep his mind from straying to the inevitable.

Things between them were about to get a whole lot more complicated. He had rules against things like this, but Jack had thrown his rule book along with his self-control right out the proverbial window.

He followed her movements as she rolled onto her side, her back to him.

He'd had half expected her to do it. She didn't really strike him as the type of woman who wanted to cuddle afterwards, he wasn't all that into it either. It did however cause his gut to churn with concern, was she having second thoughts?

He was pleasantly surprised to find her rolling towards him again. Head resting on his shoulder and an arm slung low over his hips, she met his questioning look. Shifting closer to him, she lightly traced her fingers over the scar that ran down the middle of his chest, yet another reminder that he'd had too many close calls.

"Ever since Afghanistan-" She cleared her throat."I've tried to avoid emotional attachments."

He understood all too well what she meant, even if their circumstances had been different. Lacing his fingers in her hair, he tilted her face towards him, kissing her long and slow. Hoping that she'd understand that he was willing to be patient. The kiss drew to an end, and she nuzzled against his shoulder, content to wrap herself around him.

Suddenly, he didn't mind cuddling all that much.

Told you there was no plot. (shrugs shoulders)

Thanks for reading.