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"No, we are not sleeping in here." Gibbs sounded almost panicked by the idea. He shook his head determinedly and folded his arms. "Uh-uh. No. Not here. I can't."

"But Sweetie, I bought nice new bedding and everything." Diane pleaded pointing at the freshly made bed. She'd had a fun day playing housewife while he was at work. The cooker was old but usable. The microwave was new and not quite so usable. There was no real food in the refrigerator to speak of. (Just beer, a half eaten pizza and an out of date TV dinner – none of which counted in her book.) His place clearly hadn't had a woman's touch in years, she thought sadly. Well that was about to change!

She didn't know what he'd been talking about before. The place was spotless, downstairs at least. The bedrooms? ... Not so much. They resembled storage lockers which must be why he slept on the couch of course. She began with the master bedroom – rearranged boxes and furniture; washed away the dust and cobwebs. Then she went out and bought real food and new bedding. His house was a home again. She couldn't wait to reveal her surprise. She sat at the freshly laid dinner table impatiently.

Gibbs let himself into the house. There was a tablecloth over the dinner table and candles and flowers. The place smelled wonderful. Diane stood and came over to him with a glass of bourbon. She handed it to him as she kissed him sensually.

"That was nice." He said with a grin.

"Oh, there's plenty more where that came from," She cooed.

"Just let me change out of these work clothes first – you don't want to know what's on my jacket." Gibbs downed the bourbon and happily jogged up the stairs.

There was a silence for a moment. Diane grinned to herself as she followed him to the bedroom - He was in for a lovely surprise ...

Gibbs looked around the room in shock. He was horrified. Not with everything, true. But the bedroom? What was Diane thinking? She had no right!"No, 'Sweetie' isn't going to work this time."He thought angrily. He grabbed at the bed linen and dragged it from the bed. "No, not in here. We can use the guest room."

Diane ran after him. She waved her arms around the room. "But it's full of boxes and it's filthy!"

"It's not that bad. I'll help you. There's a bed under all this somewhere."

Suddenly she turned and ran down the stairs. "Oh my god, the dinner!" Gibbs could hear pans being slammed about and cursing.

Diane stood moodily in the kitchen one hand to her head. The dinner was not completely ruined but it wasn't her best. She could hear Leroy moving boxes to the master bedroom. He too was not at his best.

They ate dinner in silence. Watch some TV in silence. Finally, they went to bed in the damned guest room laying back to back, each pretending to be asleep.

Gibbs lay in the dark staring at an unfamiliar wall."She had no right to mess with my things. I might never find some of it again because its not where I left it. I don't need this kind of disruption, especially after a difficult day at work.I don't think I can do this anymore."

Diane lay staring at the opposite wall. Her whole day had been a complete waste of time."Who does he think he is speaking to me like that? I worked damned hard all day for not so much as a thank you. I don't think he even noticed half of it. And dinner was ruined."She let out a single sob as realisation dawned,"I don't think I can do this anymore."

He got the old "it's-not-you-it's-me" routine one evening after dinner. She put her key on the dinner table next to his coffee and walked out without slamming the door. Quiet, dignified, no drama. That made a change - which was how Gibbs knew she was serious. He sat at the table and drank his coffee despite it being cold. He looked at the key."Damn,"but had he really expected a new relationship to go any further?

"OH GOD, PROBIE WHAT HAPPENED? THINGS WERE GOING SO WELL." Bellowed Vera down his ear as she wrapped a commiserating arm around his shoulders.

"It's complicated," replied Gibbs.

"THESE THINGS ALWAYS ARE." Vera agreed, nodding sadly. She sighed and then put on a brighter tone. With a smile, she slapped his shoulder cheerfully, "WE GOT A BODY FISHED OUT OF THE POTOMAC THIS MORNING. THAT'LL CHEER YOU UP. GRAB YOUR GEAR PROBIE." And so, another round of distraction therapy began.

As the weeks went passed he expected to feel better but the opposite was becoming true. The hollow, empty space in his chest grew bigger by the day until it threatened to consume him. Diane filled every waking thought that wasn't work related. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat. He was thoroughly miserable.

"Well do something about it, man." Ducky advised. "You can't spend the rest of your life moping about like this."

"You make it sound so easy Duck." Gibbs sighed into his beer.

"My dear fellow, it is that easy - Either go and find Diane or find a new woman to obsess over."

"I am not obsessed." Gibbs defended.

The doctor disagreed. "Of course you are Old Boy. That's what we chaps do when involved with the fairer sex ... at least those of us who don't live with their mothers." He clapped a hand on Gibbs' shoulder in amiable friendship. "Cherchez la femme, my friend. Its the only cure for what ails you."

As Gibbs walked towards his front door, the smashed and ajar basement window caught his eye. He drew his gun and flicked the safety off. Quietly, he unlocked the door ready for whatever danger awaited him.

Diane sat at the dinner table. Her hair tousled, a dirty smudge on her nose. She held a paper towel against her knee. A shoe with a broken heel sat on the table next to her elbow. She turned at the sound of the door opening. She stared at Gibbs sarcastically. "What? You gonna shoot me now?" Her expression changed to one of confusion. "Did you know there's a boat in your basement?"

Gibbs arms fell loosely by his sides. He stared up at the ceiling and let out a calming breath. He holstered his gun in relief before pointing to her and raising his voice, "NEVER do that again. I could have shot you!"

Diane waved a dismissive hand at him. "Nah, I know your reflexes are quicker than that." She dabbed at her knee. "A little help here would be nice – I cut myself on the glass."

Gibbs headed determinedly towards the kitchen and the first aid kit on top of the refrigerator. He knelt down beside her and took the paper towel from her hand. He inspected the wounded knee. There would be no need for amputation he assured her, or even stitches. He cleaned the cut with some antiseptic (to much theatrical moaning and groaning) and applied a bandaid.

"Will you kiss it better?" Diane asked with childlike eyes. He looked up to protest but just couldn't. He kissed her knee and then lay his head on her lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

"God, I've missed you."

She ran her fingers through his hair. "Me too. Let's not do that again." She replied.

He stood and held her hand as she got up gingerly from the chair. He wiped the smudge of dirt from her face and combed his fingers through her hair.

Diane looked at him with wide pupils. She licked her lips. "Kiss me Leroy and take me to bed," She whispered huskily. He didn't need asking twice.

Later that evening as they lay sated in each others arms, she could no longer wait to ask. She leaned up on one elbow, "So why exactly is there a boat in your basement?"

Gibbs ran his fingers down her arm lazily. "You weren't supposed to see that yet – it's not finished. It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Oh it was that all right," replied Diane.

"I'm building her for you. I've named her the Diane. She'll be sea worthy when she's ready." He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "We'll be able to go wherever we like in her." He kissed the top of her head and sighed contentedly. Diane patted his chest patiently.

"That's just great, Sweetie. ... just great."