As the door creaked slowly open, Cloda felt her heart increase in its already erratically pulsating rhythm. The sound of the oak slowly snapping shut seemed to echo like a thunderbolt around the darkened home. His warmth, as he reached around her to flick on the light switch caused her breath to still in her throat. The remainder of dinner, the drive back to his place… had all passed her by in a blur. Now though, she was acutely aware of every neuron of her being. Her every nerve was on spine tingling alert. She could practically visualise her pulse as it thudded headily under her pale skin.
He felt incredibly broad behind her slim frame as he gently nudged her into the living room, flicking on more lights as they went. "Sit," he murmured gently, propelling her into what had already become her favourite spot in his house. "I'll be right back." The retreating frame of his wide shoulders seemed to dance in her eyes as she struggled to get her breathing back on an even keel. He had been nothing but gracious and gentle since truths had come tumbling out in a way that she had never envisaged. She still felt raw, unadulterated shock as she digested how easily he had extracted information from her. How natural it felt talking to him…about things…she'd never spoken about.
Not really.
Not wholly.
Not ever.
She supposed, as she drew her slim legs under her chin and rested her buzzing head upon them, that it was probably all a part of his makeup. He oozed a natural command, an emphatic dominance. It was in his poise, it was in his eyes. It was in his employment history. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a man born to lead. Of that, she was sure. She felt the familiar sense of conflict as she closed her eyes, drawing her legs closer to her, a habit of her childhood. She flushed as she tried desperately to reconcile her public and private personas, knowing she would have no more success this time than she had done the thousands that had preceded it.
She was a strong, career driven, intelligent woman. She had taken down self assured macho man, after self assured sexist, misogynistic jackass. She had wielded a searing sword, cutting through the stench of bureaucracy and glass ceilings to get where she was. She commanded respect. It just wasn't as natural for her as it was him. She had worked at it, perfected it. She had laid siege to the notion that she could be walked over. Male and female surgeons, the top in their game, trembled in her wake. And she wouldn't, she couldn't deny that she damned well loved it.
And yet…she ached from her responsibilities.
She suffocated under the weight of them at times.
Lives, hundreds of lives. Careers, hundreds of careers.
They all rested in her open palms.
And at times…she was so exhausted from it all she couldn't even stumble to her bed. There were times when she barely made it to the couch, her shoulders aching the phantom pain of the stress that rested upon them. She would sleep fitfully, her body screaming for nutrition, her mind too besieged and wearied to source it. She sighed as she digested the familiar conundrum. How could she, as a self professed fearsome career woman, crave what she so badly craved? Her cheeks lit up as she drew in a shaky breath. It wasn't right, was it? For her to want…for her to need to let go of that responsibility she had clawed her way too. For her to need to lay that weight down at the feet of someone else.
Someone as strong as her. But in a different way.
Someone like…him.
Her eyes suddenly snapped open.
He was back.
The hot tea, her favourite, was pressed into her hands with that crooked smile that made her ovaries shiver inside her. He slipped down on the sofa beside her, and threw a casual arm around her slim shoulders. Drawing her to him, the relaxing of the tense torso was instantaneous. His wooden smell, his warmth was too much of an allure. She nuzzled instinctively into him, and his affectionate chuckle was melodious in its ring.
She melted as his lips press into her hair, his hot breath like a mini massage and let out a contented sigh.
"How're we doing in here?"
She buried into the crook of his neck and muttered something incomprehensible. Rolling his eyes affectionately, Gibbs gently prised her from him, but continued to hold her. She looked up, put out at her removal, but sobered at his scorching gaze. "I think…" he began slowly, running a hand up and down her thigh absentmindedly, "that you and I need to have a little talk." At her immediate flush, he shook his head slowly. "I love that look on you," he mumbled, moving to run a gentle hand over her firm cheekbones, "but I don't want you to be embarrassed."
He straightened up, and looked down at her intently and the flashing in his eyes screamed sincerity.
"You have nothing to be embarrassed about, do you understand me?"
She felt her air shut off slightly as she nodded jerkily, her mind not allowing for conscious thought. Nodding in approval, Gibbs took a deep breath. Whilst he sensed that this was an awkward conversation for Cloda, it wasn't all that easy for him either. He hadn't felt…hadn't been pulled to someone like this before. He'd been in a relationship before…where he'd taken a level of control. And it had been wonderful, but three entire years of it paled in comparison to the pull Cloda had on him. His urge to protect, but not to control, was palpable.
And her need to be protected, but not controlled, never controlled, was equally as blazing.
He just needed to unlock it.
For both of them.
"At the restaurant," he hedged quietly, "when I slapped your wrist for being a pup…" he paused to grin at her and her knees trembled, "you reacted in a way that I… in a way that let me know something about you. Something I guess I'd…hoped for, but never thought could be there. Do you know what I mean?"
Her silent, breathy nod answered him. He felt his pupils dilate at the unconscious parting of her lips.
"There's something about you," he growled, his breath hot and sweet against her face, "something about you that drives me crazy. I'm like a stupid kid when it comes to you. You're so strong, intelligent…" he pulled her closer to him and felt her heartbeat thunder against his chest, "You're a self sufficient, successful woman. And I admire the hell out of that. I do. But there's a part of me…that wants to protect you…from everything." He smiled that embarrassed smile of his and she felt her organ constrict. "Maybe it's my job, maybe it's my nature…." he shrugged, "maybe it's both. But the idea…of anything happening to you…terrifies me."
He pulled her closer still.
"But because you're such a strong woman…I suppose I didn't think you'd ever…" he felt a blush colour his own face, "I guess I thought you'd find the idea of me looking out for you…for your safety, offensive, I guess. But…when you kept forgetting to eat, when you continued to put your health at risk for no reason, those…feelings, they grew. And I guess that's what happened at the restaurant tonight…I couldn't hide it any longer. And…I don't think you could either," he stared down intently, before adding a quiet, "am I right?"
She stilled against his firm torso.
He hadn't explicitly said anything, and yet he'd implicitly said everything.
Her sensible side was screaming at her to remain in control, to not admit a damned thing. Information was power; she'd learned that a long time ago. And if you didn't give out that information, you couldn't be hurt by it. She'd given that information out only one before, and it had backfired. It had backfired badly. Her ex husband, he'd eventually brought her to a place where she'd felt comfortable releasing her secret. He had taken it reasonably well, but it had always been…so very awkward. It had never been truly reciprocated. In the latter years he had…used that information to wound her. To damage her.
It's why she couldn't believe she sat where she currently sat.
Hearing what she currently hearing.
From a man like the one cradling her in his strong arms.
Her sensible side lost the battle. For the first time in years, reckless abandon seized her and took utter control. Her blush, her fiery red stained cheeks betrayed her answer before she stammered it. Her stuttering, breathless "yes," was quiet, to the point, and as far as Gibbs was concerned was the most beautiful word, most beautiful voice he'd heard since… Shannon. He squeezed her to him, breathing a sigh of relief into her amber hair.
"That's my girl."
He knew how hard that had been for her. Somehow he knew. There was something there, something she wasn't talking about, something she wasn't ready to talk about. He wouldn't force it. It would come in time. He took a deep breath. "You know I like things to be clear, right?" Her answering wry smile was stunning in its beauty. "You?" she teased, amazed at her ability to feel so comfortably light hearted in their current moment, "really?"
He rolled his blue eyes and her stomach mirrored the motion.
"What we're talking about…" he continued quietly, "I need you to be fully aware of what it is, and what it entails. Ok?" She nodded immediately, her gaze not faltering from his face. He sucked in a deep breath and forced himself to be honest, to trust his gut that he had been right about this woman that felt so right in his arms.
"What I said back at the restaurant…about there being fun things, and not so fun things…" he faltered as he blushed slightly, but persevered doggedly, "I was talking about…uhm, well…corporal…uhh… spanking and uhh…things, like that. Rules that we'd both agree on and erm…discipline, and such like…" There was a stark silence as his words hung around the room, and she stilled against him. His heart stopped in his chest as she stared at him, that minute gap between her lips, terror suddenly filling him.
Had he been wrong?
Had his gut let him down?
Her peal of laughter, ringing with nervous release was therefore a bit of a shock.
"You're so..." she spluttered, her slim shoulder shaking with mirth, "you're so cute…" she shook her head, still giggling against him before mimicking his voice, "spanking and uhh…things…" His look of shock instantly morphed into relief based exasperation as he shook his head grinningly at her. "Hush," he scolded playfully, "if you think you know a better way to say it doctor, then be my guest. I notice I'm doing the most of the talking here anyhow."
She snorted, her eyes brimming with mischief that felt devastatingly natural in his presence.
"No no…you have the floor. I never knew you could be so verbal when the mood takes you."
He rolled his eyes once more. "Right," he murmured dryly, "that's it you pup. You need to take the floor." At this, she finished up her giggling and suddenly blushed faintly again. "I don't know what to say," she mumbled, knowing she had to repay Gibbs' honesty. She knew openness wasn't easy for the gruff agent. "It's just…you….I….feel…."
He chuckled.
"Try again."
Nodding, she allowed herself to snuggle into his chest once more. It was easier to talk to her knees as she rested into him, his arm around her, and he didn't object. "I guess I've always had…thoughts about a certain type of relationship," she confessed quietly, fidgeting with the cuffs of her shirt, "and you…you're uhh…the type, I guess?"
He cocked his head.
"The type?"
Her deepened blush was unseen, but he knew it was spreading across her face. Squeezing her gently, he cleared his throat. "Cloda, what did I say about there being no need to be embarrassed?" he asked rhetorically, "it's just you and me here. Anything that comes out of your mouth will never, ever leave this house. I give you my word." He ran a hand through her hair, and her blush began to melt away. "You're safe now," he breathed, "you're safe with me. I promise."
She had never believed a promise more.
"You're so strong," she whispered, scarcely daring to believe her need to explain, "I feel safe with you. I feel like…I don't always have to be in charge of everything with you around. I feel…lighter, with you. You take control, but you don't suffocate. You're…firm, without controlling me. You care about me, without…infantilising me. You…" she trailed off, uncertain how to phrase it. "You're just…you."
He was stunned for a moment.
Before instinct over took him and she was enveloped in his grasp.
"Proud of you," he whispered into her hair, "I know that wasn't easy to say." He pulled back and smiled down at her. Looking up at him, she was surprised when the blush didn't surge to her cheeks. "You don't think I'm…weak?" she asked quietly, her base fear coming to the surface without her actually meaning it to. It was her biggest anxiety. That when she confessed her leanings to Gibbs, with him being so naturally dominant, he would find her need for release a sign of weakness.
His suddenly ferocious expression therefore startled her.
"You are not weak," he growled, "I don't ever want you thinking that again. You…" he paused, unused to such massive and unexpected bouts of speech, "are an incredibly strong woman. You carry a weight with your job and your life, and it needs to be put down every now and again. It's not a sign of weakness to admit what you need; it's a sign of strength. You need to let go, and I need to not let go. It's just…who we are. It's in our make-up. It's just how it is. It's who you are, and it's who I am."
He paused, holding her tighter than ever before.
"It's who we are."
There was a silencing quiet in the wake of his words. Blue eyes locked with green as uncharacteristic openness and vulnerability seeped from the intertwined torsos. Cloda's mind was whirring. Her anticipation of being thought of as odd, as a freak had been wrenched from her. His soothing, self assured voice bore into her every neuron. His few words could be boiled down to one of the most therapeutic things she had ever heard in her life.
It's ok to be you.
She felt her chest lighten.
She felt the beginnings of years of self doubt and flagellation stir from her core.
She felt hope.
"There's so much to talk about Clo," Gibbs muttered, tracing a hand up and down her arm, "we're barely scratching the surface here, but we have all the time in the world. We can learn as we go." He glanced gently down upon her, her frame warm and solid against him. He savoured that feeling. "You feeling a little better about all this now?" he asked softly, his need to put her first shining through as normal. His own mind was keening under her evaluation of him, of what he did for her. It sent a flutter of light throughout him, awakening a need that yearned to be fulfilled for years.
She nodded instinctively.
"I guess it's amazing what one conversation can do."
His laughter was soft.
"I am renowned for my love of talking."
Her laugher was spluttering, and his smile grew even more crooked.
She sobered suddenly, looking up at him with wide eyes.
"Uhh…the whole not erm…eating thing from tonight…are we letting that go as a…learning experience?"
He mirrored her solemnity, as he traced a thumb over her lips, gently silencing her.
"Nope," he corrected quietly, "we're not. But what is going to happen will be a learning experience."
She stilled, resting a hand on his chest and pushing herself up to lock her gaze with his.
"What's… going to happen?"
He pulled her close once more, and sighed into her thick mop of hair as she willingly melted in his arms once more.
"We're going to talk some more….because I would never, ever do anything you're not completely happy with. I'd never, ever do something that could hurt you...but I think I know what you need, but you're free to correct me if I'm wrong. OK?" he trailed off as she peeked up at him through her thick locks, her eyes seeking a truth that he knew he had to deliver on and her confident nod spurred him on. Taking another lungful of air, he tugged her to him, tighter still, the feel of her so naturally natural. He knew that his moment was a pinnacle turning point, and that the future of their relationship teetered upon the foundations he built with his words and his actions.
He wouldn't let her down.
Not ever.
His gut had never let him down before, and he knew it was telling him the truth now.
This woman, this complex, beautiful woman in his arms was a part of his life now. She was his priority, she was his light. Their relationship would no doubt be fraught with unknowns, but he instinctively knew what he needed, and she needed. And they would work it out.
It would be everything it could possibly be.
He was resolutely determined.
Tracing her chiselled cheekbones with a gentle thumb, he tipped her head carefully back and locked his eyes with hers. He sucked in some air, and his natural dominance, his natural knack for taking charge, for knowing what to say and do kicked in. She needed specifics. She needed to know exactly what was going to happen.
She needed him to take charge now, to lead.
To trust himself to give her what she needed.
He knew that about her.
And he was more than happy to oblige.
He held her closer still, and opened his mouth, his voice ringing with the authority and words...his words that made everything that could tingle; jingle and jangle explode like dynamite within her, her mouth forming a perfect, rose budded "oh."
"…and then, Cloda, I'm going to put you straight over my knee. I'm going to flip up your skirt. I'm going to pull your panties down to your ankles. And then, pup; I'm going to give you the bare bottom spanking you've been spoiling for since the day I first laid eyes on you."
…
TBC
…
A/N: I know there's a lot of build up here, but I want to actually establish their relationship rather than just rush into it. I just feel it's more believable/natural that way. I'm planning on this being a relatively long multi-chapter, so building the relationship is important, pacing wise. Anyway, hope you enjoyed, update should be soon as I've closed off a lot of my other stories.
Please let me know what you guys think, this is seriously out of my comfort zone! I literally blushed writing the last part!
-Inks
