"Gibbs!"

He smiled, hearing the excitement in her voice as she announced herself at his door. He quickly put his chisel down and dusted himself off as he made his way up his basement stairs to greet her.

She was kicking her shoes off in the living room, and he couldn't help but smile back when she looked up at him and beamed.

"Hiya, cowboy," she greeted as he made his way over.

"Jack," he greeted back, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss.

She tapped his chest as she gave him another quick peck and smile. She bent down to grab her shoes and headed back to his door to deposit them there.

"You stayin' the night?" he called.

"Only if that's all right with you."

Surely she knew he had no objections to that. He opened his mouth to respond, stopping abruptly as she emerged again.

He could barely see her, since she was carrying a very large potted plant in front of her. It was almost taller than she was, with massive green leaves.

"Jack," he muttered suspiciously.

"Isn't it delightful?" she asked, placing it down between them. "It's a Fiddle-Leaf Fig tree," she announced proudly, as if he was supposed to care.

"What's it doin' here?"

"To brighten and liven things up."

He squeezed his eyes shut a minute, the fear he had felt upon seeing her emerge with the thing now confirmed. It wasn't the first time he'd had a woman try to "liven" his place up with some plants.

"Don't got plants for a reason," he muttered.

He had one vivid memory of Rebecca pouring her tumbler full of vodka into one of the many dying plants she had at his house after he'd remarked that she wasn't taking care of them and he was going to throw them out.

Diane had a load of fake plastic and polyester ones scattered all around that he hated.

"Lack of vegetation indoors can have some serious psychological disadvantages," she said, patting one of the giant leaves on the tree gently and smiling.

"You're a forensic psychologist," he pointed out. He noticed she used the psychology thing against him a lot, and he was pretty sure she made up a quarter of her arguments half the time just to shut him up.

"Yes, and that makes me incapable of doing other psychology related research," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm serious, Gibbs. Indoor plants can create a calming environment. They boost our mood and help us de-stress. Not to mention, they clean the air."

He sighed, and muttered a "fine" under his breath. He wasn't even sure why he was fighting her on it. It was just a plant.

"Besides, Norman here needs a good home, and I like your home."

"Norman?" he scoffed.

"Yes, Norman. Be nice to him."

"Ya named the damn plant and it's a he?"

"Does that intimidate you?" she questioned, giving him that look she always gave him when she was analyzing his behavior.

"No," he muttered, glaring at her and then the plant that she so lovingly caressed. He shrugged and turned away to head to the kitchen, deciding to just drop the subject. It was just a plant, and he really didn't care. He should be glad she was feeling comfortable enough in his house that she didn't mind keeping things there.

I like your home.

He couldn't help but smile to himself at the remark.

He opened the fridge and rummaged around, seeing if there was something she might want to eat. He was impressed when he hadn't heard her come up behind him, feeling her arms snake around him suddenly as she pressed against his back and hugged him.

"I should've asked first," she apologized. "I was going to put it in my office, but I thought it'd be nice to see it here instead...now that I come here a lot."

"Yeah, 'm good at makin' ya do that," he replied smoothly.

It took a couple beats and then she swatted him as she realized his meaning.

"Gibbs," she reprimanded, laughing against him.

He closed the fridge and spun around, leaning against it as he held her close and gave her a kiss, smirking smugly.

"I don't mind, 's just a plant," he said with a shrug, slipping his hand underneath her shirt and pressing his palm against her skin. "Just make sure you're over here to take care of...it," he said, refusing to call it 'him' or—even worse—'Norman'.

"You name all your plants?" he asked, thinking about the ones she had in her apartment and in her office. Now that he thought about it, he shouldn't be surprised that she'd drug a plant over here. She did seem to have quite a few, and she probably really did know her stuff about the 'psychological benefits' or whatever the hell she was on about.

"I think plants respond better if they know you care about them," she said with a shrug. "They're like you," she said thoughtfully. "Silent, perhaps seen as unfeeling to others around them—but truly sensitive and in need of love as much as everyone else."

He rolled his eyes, not a fan of the sentimental comparison, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. She seemed to sense his unease.

"The plant in the back of my office is Leroy, because he's so tall and handsome, always brooding over there, staring at me all the time."

He raised an eyebrow at her, studying her intently, trying to tell if she was joking or not. He was fairly positive she was, but there was a certain gleam in her eye. This was why she could beat him at poker. She had a damn good poker face when she wanted to, and she could hold him down in a staring contest.

"Really?" he questioned, giving in.

She smirked, patting his chest patronizingly and giving him a peck as she escaped his arms. She turned to the cupboard above the sink and stretched up to reach a glass. He let his eyes linger on her ass as she did so.

"I don't brood...and 'm not sensitive," he grumbled.

She put the glass down and eyed him a minute, looking sorry.

"I like my plants, and I—I like you," she said simply. "Take it as a compliment."

She picked the glass back up and filled it up with water as he surveyed her, taking in her words.

He liked her too. They were still fairly new in terms of when they'd finally given in and gotten together. They were enjoying each others company and taking it a few steps at a time. He was still trying to get used to having a woman in his life again. Still trying to learn to accept the care she showed and accept the happiness she brought—and not retreat back to his unhealthy life of living with bourbon and a boat in the basement. He was still trying to learn how to show her that he cared for her too, since he'd never been so great at that sort of thing.

But they both knew they cared for each other, and they knew they could trust each other, and that was all that mattered right now.

She finished her glass of water with a contented sigh, turning back and smiling at him. He walked over to her and let his eyes roam over her, letting her know he was admiring her.

"'M glad you're here," he said reaching out to her, letting his hand slip down to her ass as his tone dipped down suggestively, "and 'm glad ya 'come here a lot'."

She bit her lip, not able to hide her embarrassed smile.

"Careful," she whispered. "Norman might here us. He's sensitive."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, glaring towards the living room.

"Wait till he gets a front row seat to what I plan to do with ya on the couch."

"Gibbs!" she giggled in a scandalized tone, pushing away from him and turning to the living room, pretending to escape. She looked over her shoulder at him promisingly as he caught up with her, pulling her back against his front and pressing his nose into her hair. He smiled and kissed her cheek as she laughed, arching back into him.

"Hold on," she laughed, trying to escape his arms that were wound around her. "I need to at least move Norman somewhere where he looks nice."

"Nope," he said, shaking his head as he pressed some kisses against her neck, enjoying the way her body moved against his as she laughed and tried to move away from him.

"He's blocking the couch, ya know," she pointed out.

He glanced up, realizing the plant was between the couch and the coffee table, clearly in the way of his destination. With that he pressed another kiss against her neck and then released her, smiling back at her as she turned her head and gave him a wink.

He watched her pick the enormous thing up again, not liking the way she slightly wobbled as she balanced it and tried to look around it to find a good spot. He stepped towards her and grabbed it, trying to take it from her.

"Here," he said. "I'll carry it. You tell me where to put it."

He didn't like the distinctly smug look she gave him as she surrendered the plant.

For the next twelve minutes, he found himself moving a plant he didn't even want to different areas of his living room and then his kitchen as she tried to make up her mind.

"Boost the mood," he muttered darkly as he picked the heavy thing up again for the twentieth time. "De-stress, my ass."

All for the love of a woman that he did want.


Ficus Lyrata is the scientific name of the Fiddle-Leaf Fig Tree, which I didn't know until I had to come up with a title for this. Now you know too. ;)

I'm looking forward to the Valentines episode tomorrow. Looks like we could get some Slibbs, if that kiss on the cheek in the sneak peek is anything to go by.