Gibbs sighed, pausing in the act of sanding his boat. He may not have been facing her, but he could practically feel Kate's disapproval. It settled somewhere between his shoulder blades, and it was only habit that kept him from moving.
"You got a problem, Katie?" he asked, not turning around.
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to." He finally turned around then, wiping his hands on a towel. "Whatever it is, just say it."
She shrugged, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes as she hoisted herself up onto his workbench. He had asked her more than once not to do it, and though he wouldn't admit it aloud, it actually didn't bother him that much. She was getting comfortable in his home, and he liked that, even if he couldn't say it.
"Do you decorate at all for Christmas?" she finally asked, a perplexed look on her face.
He scoffed, shaking his head and turning back to his work. "Do I look like a Christmas kind of guy, Katie?"
She rolled her eyes. "Point." Hopping down from the bench, she headed for the stairs. "You want me to order dinner?"
He nodded. "That would be good."
She hadn't even thought about it. As soon as she left the office, she guided her car straight towards Gibbs', autopilot taking over. They had been seeing each other for almost six months now, though she wouldn't go as far as to call it a 'relationship.'
Well, not in front of Gibbs, anyway.
Pulling into the driveway, she was surprised to see that his car was already there. He hadn't been at his desk when she left the office, but she had just assumed that he was somewhere else in the building. It wasn't often that he beat her home.
Home. She tried to ignore the way her skin warmed at the thought.
When she opened the door, her eyes widened at a second surprise. In the corner, where Gibbs usually kept a dark bookcase, a bare Christmas tree had been set up in a stand. The floor was covered in open boxes, and she could see strings and strings of lights in neat coils. The ornaments were new, and she suddenly had the ridiculous image of Gibbs standing in front of shelves of Christmas decorations. It was almost enough to make her laugh – she probably would have if he hadn't been standing right there.
"I thought you didn't do Christmas, Gibbs," she quipped, setting her purse down on the table.
He shrugged, opening a bottle of beer. "I don't." When she just continued to stare at him with one eyebrow raised, he shrugged again and took a sip. "Doesn't mean you can't."
She grinned suddenly, her cheeks almost hurting. Bouncing up to him, she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him soundly. "Such a big softie," she murmured.
Gibbs grunted and turned away, unable to hide his own smile. "Just don't expect me to help."