Chapter Two - Beginnings
"I have to agree Jethro, this place is pretty cool and the pie is really excellent."
Gibbs smiled, pleased that she too, liked the diner. "It reminds me a little of home." He explained. "It's not like we're in the city at all. My Mom used to work in one very similar. I'd stop by on my way home from school to see her and we'd eat a piece of pie together." He picked up his fork and waved it over the plate they shared. "Rather like this."
They sat across from one another. Not perhaps, the most romantic of places - under the Expressway, but it suited him just fine. It had a hometown feel to it (as long as you didn't look outside). Everyone in there seemed to know him and he them. Some introduced themselves. One old guy winked at Gibbs and slapped him on the shoulder. He'd ordered Apple pie with chocolate sauce and two forks. He put a country song on the juke box and they sat opposite each other as he talked about his childhood. She was captivated. He stared off into the distance when he spoke about his Mom, smiling wistfully. His Dad was gone now too. The hurt from old wounds gradually fading.
"I wish I could have met them." She said reaching for his hand. He didn't resist.
"I do too." He replied. "You'd have liked them, I think. And they would certainly have liked you. Anyway ..."
He shook himself out of his reverie and then sighed in a resigned manner. Their hands changed position. His on top of hers - almost as if he was afraid she would run away. "My team have been on at me all day to ask you something."
"Oh? Should I be worried?"
"Well that depends. Can you dance?"
"What kind of dance?."
"Waltzing and stuff." He looked extremely uncomfortable. She laughed inwardly to herself. It was so endearing. Here suddenly, sat an awkward teenager in front of her. She would never have thought it - not after four wives - surely, he should have got the hang of this by now?
"Are you asking me on a date?" She asked with amusement in her eyes
.
"I am going to slap somebody tomorrow for making me to this!" He thought to himself. Outwardly he added galantly,
"I would be delighted if you would accompany me to the Inter-agency Dinner on Friday evening."
"Delighted huh?" He looked almost bashful. She thought her heart would burst. "Well how could I refuse such a charming invitation." He seemed almost surprised.
"Oh? Erm ... Good ... Right ...Well, I'd better my dinner suit cleaned then. I didn't know if you would like that sort of thing. You can say no, you know. I won't mind."
"Are you kidding? Every woman likes a reason to dress up."
"So I've been told. Bishop has offered to show you the 'right stores' whatever that means. I guess that's a girl thing?"
"Yeah," she smiled at him, "It's a girl thing."
"Right. Have I squirmed enough now?"
"Most definitely, I give you ten out of ten," she laughed and he joined her.
"Oh thank you. I shouldn't be so nervous asking a girl on a date."
"A girl? I haven't been called a 'girl' for too many years." Throughout the conversation his hand had rested comfortably on hers. He lifted it to his lips and gently kissed her fingers. He stood,
"Come on, it's getting late. I'll take you back to your hotel."
--
The drive into the centre of DC was unusually quiet. She stared out of the passenger window apparently a million miles away. He worried about her silence. Had he pushed too hard? Had he got the signals so wrong? Sure, he was out of practice at all this, but he really didn't think so. Was it too soon after the hearing for a romance? He hoped not. The kids in the Bullpen were not the only ones who REALLY liked her. He didn't want to mess this up ... again.
He parked up at the hotel and walked her to her door as usual. The elevator ride had been in silence. He held her hand. They stood in her doorway, awkwardly.
"I'll get Bishop to call you in the morning."
"Okay. Um ... Jethro?"
"Yeah?"
"What's her first name?" She half expected him not to know.
"Oh, er .. Eleanor. Ellie. She likes to be called Ellie. I'll get her to call you."
"Yes, in the morning. You said."
There was that awkward silence again ... "This is ridiculous," he thought. "What are you? 16 or 60?" Lifting her chin with his finger, he leaned forward to kiss her, then stopped an inch from her mouth.
"May I?" He whispered.
"My God, yes," she replied breathlessly.
Their lips touched so very gently, tentatively. An electric shock raced through her body. She fell against him for more. He took her in his arms and kissed her deeply. His strong and confident embrace made her feel safe and desired. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers running through the short hair at the nape. Her head cartwheeled. My God, he felt so good, tasted so good. But then her past reality stepped into the fore.
Quite suddenly, she pulled away. She held his face as they kissed once more. She looked into his searing blue eyes begging for understanding. "That's my cue," he thought. He held her at arms length for a moment.
"I think it's time I leave isn't it?" He asked, his voice husky. He cleared his throat trying to clear his head at the same time. She wasn't ready for the next step. It was all happening too fast. Her gaze fell to the floor. She was ashamed, afraid she'd been leading him on.
"Hey, it's okay. I know it's complicated. It's okay. Can I see you tomorrow?" He asked. She nodded, still staring down at the floor. He lifted her chin once more. There were tears threatening to fall. "It's okay. Really. I understand." He kissed her gently on the mouth once more. His lips barely touching hers. "It's okay. Go on in now," he prompted, nodding towards the door.
She stepped across the threshold and closed the door. From behind the wood he heard a sob and then another. He held both sides of the door frame and quietly pressed his forehead against it. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. He couldn't bare to hear her cry. He resisted the urge to knock. With a deep breath he stood, turned and walked towards the elevator. His lips tasting of hers.
She had melted into him. Wanted him completely. His arms had felt so perfect around her. But then her past had come crashing back in to ruin everything. The screaming arguments, the anger, the loathing, the pain. The scars both mental and physical. He would be disgusted by her body. By her fear. She couldn't ruin such a perfect evening and yet she had done exactly that. She slid down the closed door to the floor. She tried hard not to make a sound as she convulsed with sobs. Eventually, she stood, pushed the palms of her hands into her eyes, sniffed and with a deep breath walked towards the bedroom. Her lips tasting of his.
Bishop!" Gibbs yelled perhaps a little too harshly (well he hadn't slept much.) "Bishop!" She came scuttling in from the break area, a large bag of chips in her hand. How that woman stayed so thin was beyond him!
"Yes Boss? Did I do something wrong Boss?"
"No. Nothing like that."
"Oh, it's just you seem in a bad mood today. Uh-oh, didn't she want to go to the dinner?"
"No, it's not that. She does want to go to the dinner. You earned yourself a hall pass today. You're going shopping. The rest is personal so don't ask."
"Yes Sir. But you know," she hesitated. "If you ever need a shoulder ... or an ear ... or something."
"I appreciate that, thank you. But now I want you to take her shopping and go do 'girl stuff'. Have some fun. The pair of you deserve it." Bishop beamed from ear to ear. She hopped up and down excitedly and held out her hand. He looked at her confused for a moment.
"What?"
"Well you don't expect a girl to pay for her own gown do you?"
"Gowns? Aren't they like dresses only more expensive?Gowns?" He thought to himself. After a moment, he shrugged. "Who cares if it makes her smile." He reached for his wallet and opened it. Bishop leaned over his shoulder to see what he had in there ... apart from moths. He reached for bills.
"Oh, I wouldn't bother with paper money," Ellie advised sagely. He raised an eyebrow in question. He was so out of practice with this sort of thing.
"No?"
Bishop shook her head and stared at him with her large, faux-innocent eyes.
"No. You'll need plastic money for this mission, Sir." He feigned annoyance, huffed at her and handed her his credit card. She snatched it excitedly from his hand and skipped off towards the elevator.
"You know that's coming back charred and smouldering don't you Boss?" DiNozzo commented without raising his head from his paperwork.
"I'm betting on 'melted'," McGee added with a grin.
"Don't care," Gibbs barked. "When was the last time I had a chance to spend it on anyone? Now can we please get back to the case, guys? I'm going down to autopsy." He needed some advice. His mind was just so much mush right now. He couldn't keep his mind on the case. Perhaps his older and wiser friend could add some insight.
--
"Hey Duck, can I ask you something?"
"Why Jethro, I am always at your disposal, you know that. How can I be of assistance?" Gibbs looked across at Palmer who was studiously cleaning the same Petri dish for the third time.
"Mr. Palmer, don't you have somewhere to be?" Asked Dr. Mallard. Palmer took the hint,
"Oh ... um ... I think Abby told me she needed some more ... " He looked around frantically for something Abby might be short off ... "Forceps! Yes, forceps just like these I have in my hand right here, in fact. How convenient is that? And they are definitely her size. Yes. I'll take them to her right now shall I?" Gibbs glared at him menacingly. "Yes, that would be right now then." The Autopsy Gremlin scuttled away. Gibbs waited for the door to close behind him. Ducky placed a fatherly hand on Gibbs' shoulder.
"Now, Dear Boy, what seems to be the matter?
Gibbs lowered his voice as if the other occupants of Autopsy might hear him from inside their drawers.
"Does anyone really recover from spousal abuse Duck?"
Dr. Mallard thought as he cleaned his glasses. "Well I'm not really sure. Not my field I'm afraid. I'd hazard a guess that it's like any trauma. It would depend on the individual, the amount and duration of the trauma and the support they received afterwards. I assume we are talking about the same person?"
Gibbs purses his lips and shook his head. "There's something Duck. Something she's not telling me." The Doctor continued,
"It can take years to recover from any trauma - something you know all too well. Self esteem can be almost non-existent. She likely feels unworthy of your attentions. There will be trust issues of course. She may even be afraid of you on a subconscious level. Go slowly, My Boy. She will tell you when she's ready, I have no doubt. Trust that famous gut of yours Jethro, patience will win out, you'll see."
--
Back in the Bullpen that afternoon, he stood in front of the plasma screen discussing the case with McGee and DiNozzo. Abby stepped off the elevator twirling her parasol and looking particularly pleased about ... something. She nudged Gibbs' elbow as she passed him.
"I know something you don't know," she sang in a childlike, sing-song voice.
"I would hope so Abbs, you're a lot smarter than me."
She was jumping up and down and giggling like a hyperactive toddler. This was definitely a triple-Caf-Pow-with-no-straw, high.
"So you gonna tell me or what?" He demanded.
"Nope. But you are gonna love it when you find out. And you're gonna thank me A LOT."
She skipped off out of the Bullpen. "A LOT!" She threw back over her shoulder as she headed back to her lab. The three men looked at each other, bemused.
"What was that?" He asked the younger agents.
"Beats me," said McGee.
"I dunno," added DiNozzo unhelpfully.
They gave a collective shrug and turned back to the screen. Whatever it was, it would have to wait.
Gibbs stood nervously at her hotel door. As DiNozzo and McGee had predicted, his credit card came back well and truly fried! And someone still needed to explain a pedicure with fish to him.
Bishop wouldn't tell him what else they'd bought ... It was a surprise he was told, but he would most definitely like it. He knocked on the door as he tugged at his dress shirt collar. He felt stupid - like a lovelorn teenager on prom night - Maybe he should have bought a corsage at the hotel gift shop. His bow tie was uncomfortable and his suit must have shrunk at the dry cleaners somehow!
She opened the door.
"Wow," was all he could think to say. She beamed at him.
"Why thank you. That was the correct answer." She looked him up and down and nodded her approval (which was suddenly very important to him.) "You clean up okay yourself."
"Just okay? I'll have you know it took almost as long to tie this tie as it did to find it!"
"And it looks just fine," she cooed as she straightened it. Her hands slid down the lapels of his jacket. A spark crackled between them.
She wore a strapless gown of midnight blue. Her long silver hair fell loosely against her shoulders and down towards her waist. It was simple and chic and breathtaking.
"Can you help me with this?" She asked holding up a crystal cameo pendent on a navy blue ribbon.
"Sure," He took the pendent from her. She turned around and lifted her hair away from her neck. A wave of Chanel No. 5 hit him. He tied the ribbon carefully, barely able to think. He so wanted to kiss her neck but instead, placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head - just so he could smell her hair.
As she let her hair fall back around her shoulders. He caught a glimpse of a jagged white mark maybe an inch across, that carried on down under her dress.
"Her past," he reminded himself. "Patience Jethro, patience."
--
He held the car door open for her and proffered his hand as she gracefully climbed out. He handed the valet the keys. She took his arm and they stepped into the lobby. While he checked his overcoat he heard the unmistakable Miss Sciutto talking excitedly.
"Oh. My. God. You guys are just totally, totally adorable together. Look at you. Gibbs, you are SO handsome. I knew under all those coffee grounds and wood glue, there was some handsome guy trying to get out." She turned her attention to his companion, grinning widely.
"Did he like it?"
"Oh yeah, you could say that." Abby slapped her playfully on the arm.
"And so he should. That dress is just perfect. It goes with his eyes. Look at you two, you're all co-ordinated and stuff." He leaned in between the two women.
"Would you ladies mind not talking about me as if I'm not here?"
"Why?" They asked in unison.
He opened his mouth to respond but couldn't think of a clever reply and closed it again. He rolled his eyes. "Women!" He never had got the hang of them.
Abby bounced in front of them as they tried to escape. "Hey I need some pictures. Can I take your picture?" Abby was back in ' Caf-Pow!' mode "Can I take your picture, Gibbs? Pl-e-e-a-se?"
"No," said Gibbs fiercely.
"Oh, let Abby take a photo. " She asked him. She leaned against him with her hand over his heart. Her face close to his. She whispered to him. "You're off duty now. Let you're friends a little closer. A picture won't hurt." He cleared his throat.
"Sorry Abbs. I didn't mean to yell at you - of course you can take a picture." As they posed for Abby he whispered "I feel like half the room is watching us."
"That's because they are, Sweetheart," she replied through her smile. He looked down at her.
"Sweetheart? I've never been called a 'Sweetheart' before.. A lot of other things ... Maybe I could get used to that," he thought
Abby looked down at her phone. "Sweet!" She declared. "I can't wait to show the nuns."
"Nuns?" She asked, confused.
"Long story," Gibbs replied.
"Will she stop for breath soon?"
"Eventually,"
--
"There you are. I've been looking all over for you." Bishop came rushing up to them. She looked at him. Her mouth fell open in surprise.
"Wow, Gibbs ... Just Wow!" Recovering her composure, she turned away from him.
"Hey, did he like the dress?"
He rolled his eyes again. "Why do I have to like the dress?" The ladies ignored him.
"Absolutely!" They giggled at each other conspiratorially. Something was going on ...
The reaction to their cleaned up boss seemed unanimous amongst the Bullpen even if DiNozzo did suggest a better tailor! The suit was perfectly good, Gibbs argued - He'd had it for years.
"My point entirely, Boss," DiNozzo had argued back.
They schmoozed their way around the room. He introduced her to various people from other agencies or departments. She knew she would never remember all the names. All except one that is - his best friend, Tobias whose eyes sparkled at her.
"A pleasure to finally meet you Signorina. Jethro has told me so much about you."
"No, no I haven't. He's making that up." Gibbs interjected nervously. He tried to give Tobias a subtle "Go away," signal but Fornell was having far too much fun. She was suitably flattered as he bowed and kissed the back of her hand. (Gibbs rolled his eyes.) "Only good things, I assure you. But tell me, what on Earth do you see in this old dinosaur?"
--
They returned to their table in time for dinner. She sat next to Ducky who regaled her with so many stories, she hardly spoke to Jethro at all. Their hands would meet under the table occasionally. She found it reassuring - she was doing fine.
Finally, with (awful) coffee served, the part of the evening he had been dreading the most began - dancing! The first time he took her out on the dance floor, he just wanted it to open up and swallow him whole. His friends were all watching them like they were on some kind of reality show. But a couple of bourbons and some champagne later, it wasn't so bad. And as the evening wore on and she melted against him as they danced, he forgot about their audience and revelled in her company. His focus narrowing to encompass his companion alone.
"Do you get the impression we're being set up?" She asked as the number finished.
"How do you mean?"
"At every opportunity your friends keep telling me how great you are, how loyal, how trustworthy, how hard working ..."
"They make me sound like a St. Bernard." He grumbled. "But yes, I think a certain amount of matchmaking is being attempted. You okay with that?"
She looked into those deep blue pools for the hundredth time that evening. "I am if you are." Then she smiled mischievously. He smiled back, nervously.
"What?"
"You know we're being watched, right?
He laughed and looked heavenwards, "Oh, only since the minute we got out of the car."
"D'you want to give them something to see?"
"What exactly did you have in mind?" He asked, intrigued.
"Kiss me - like you did the other night - before I got all weird on you".
"Hey, I told you not to worry about that." She was looking down at the floor again. He really was going to have to work on that. He took her face in his hand for a second. "I said, it's was okay and I meant it."
"I know. But I still want to make it up to you. Kiss me. Let them think their little plan worked."
They walked to a more secluded part of the room. He took her in his arms and bowed his head a little to kiss her gently once more. The memories of their first kiss came flooding back to him. The way she tasted. The way she smelled. The feel of her body against his. Their arms wrapped around each other more tightly, all awareness of their surroundings gone. They parted slightly, breathless holding on to each other. She looked into his eyes. The pupils were wide with desire. She knew hers were just the same. He pressed his cheek against hers and kissed behind her ear.
"I think it's time for us to leave," he whispered.
"Yes, I think you're probably right." She replied.
From across the room Abby held her phone surreptitiously filming.
"Tell me you got that? Bishop whispered excitedly.
"Oh, I did." They 'high fived' grinning from ear to ear.
His picked up his overcoat and draped it across her shoulders. They made a little chit-chat with Fornell while deciding how to get back to her hotel. Couldn't drive too much alcohol. No taxis within hailing distance. That left walking. They bib their goodnight to Fornell and turned toward street. They walked slowly, enjoying the cool air and each other's company. She holding onto his arm. He carrying her purse and her shoes.
Click, went Abby's camera. Operation New Mom was well and truly under way!