Disclaimer : You'll have to re-read Chapter 1 for it.
This one's a tad on the long side...but it's not that often we see the lighter side of Gibbs.
Chapter 4
Rolling his shoulders helped to work out the kinks that had formed while staring at the pictures and re-reading statements. Gibbs stood and prepared to work his way down to the lab to see what his team had come up with. Anything to pull himself out the daze now forming after seeing picture after picture.
He sighed. He knew his temper was shorter than normal, but couldn't put his finger on why. Even working on his boat lately had seemed more mundane than calming.
Passing the edge of his desk, Gibbs grabbed his coffee and knocked a pen at the same time. He watched as it slowly rolled and fell to the floor.
He sighed again. Gibbs realized that a younger man would have put the coffee back down and caught the pen before it hit the ground. Instead, he had just stood there, watching it…silently.
Gibbs kneeled down. In the background, he registered the ding of the elevator doors opening, but he just stared at the pen lying in front of his knee. Just staring at it, mulling over the younger man thoughts from a moment ago.
"Where I come from, we call that a pen. It is used to make wonderful objects such as letters and numbers and doodles. A very versatile communications tool and occasionally used for gnawing on." A husky female voice reached his ears.
In later reflection, Gibbs would look back at this moment and replay it in slow motion. His eyes first met a pair of feet encased in dark brown leather stilettos…professional yet female. Lightly tanned legs…no nylons, a rarity in Washington. Dark brown skirt with pale pink pinstriping, hemmed just above a set of beautiful knees. Dark brown jacket, buttoned, cinching in around a decidedly feminine waistline. Simple white shirt beneath the jacket. Delicate silver chain holding a small sideways figure-eight of diamonds. Pink glossy lips hinting at a smile. Blonde hair swept back. Classic pearl earrings. The most intense set of blue eyes staring back at him. And a blonde eyebrow quirked in amusement.
"Fascinating." He commented drily. "I have heard that some people around here use it for those same reasons. Of course, I've also been told that those that chew on pens tend to have some rather strange fixations."
The pink lips opened to reveal a smile that lit up her entire face.
"Are you fixed down in that position or are you trying to give passerbys a rumour about us already?"
Gibbs shrugged. "Would the latter be so bad?"
He rose up off the ground, the offending pen left forgotten.
She extended a hand.
"You must be Tony." She said simply.
It was Gibbs turn to quirk an eyebrow.
"And you would say that because…"
She faltered, as if now unsure. "Well…with everything I've been told…handsome, good sense of humour…"
Suddenly she grinned, as if realizing her mistake, and ready to play it to the hilt. "You certainly can't be the infamous Gibbs!"
"Why not?" He asked, smiling and playing along. He took her hand in his as if to shake it and led her towards his desk. He sat against the edge, still holding her hand.
"To start with," she tilted her head as if recalling a memory, "I've been told on good authority that Gibbs is serious, all of the time and enjoys barking orders at people. Very stuffy and a veritable bastard. Refuses to admit that he some learning to do when it comes to technology…but the common belief is that he's just too old to learn anymore."
His smile faltered.
"He enjoys smacking people on the backs of their heads for no apparent reason. And I was told that he is rather stuck in his ways…unwilling…no, unable to compromise or see more effective and efficient ways to accomplish tasks. Can't get with the program, you know?"
His smile faded.
The blonde woman leaned in closer and whispered softly, requiring Gibbs to lean in towards her.
"But you can't be him. Eyes like those and a hand shake like this scream 'ladies man'…you must be Tony."
Gibbs glanced down to see that was indeed still holding her hand.
"And you would be?..." His voice trailed off.
"Your prisoner?" She suggested. She made no move to extract her hand. The calluses on the pads of his fingers were doing some wonderful things to her senses.
"I usually handcuff them."
"Not in public, darling, but after hours, I'm all yours…ready, willing and oh so able." She affected an overly dramatic purr, touched off with a mock salute from her free hand.
He laughed. Gibbs actually laughed. This was certainly entertainly and he was really curious who she was here for…let alone who she was.
"Gibbs! Roxane!" The startled voice of Ziva interrupted them. They both turned to look at her and simultaneously realized he still had her hand.
She look back at him, her blue eyes dancing with mischief.
"You're Gibbs? You're not Tony?" She asked in mock horror.
"At your service...Roxane." He shook her hand firmly. "I take it you're Ziva's friend."
"Friend is such a strange term." Ziva offered. "More like…strange bedfellows."
Tony started to smile at this. He was standing behind Ziva, catching the whole Gibbs-strange woman handshake-flirting thing. Woah. Of course, there was also the strange woman's reference to "Tony" and he just had to know why she thought Gibbs was him.
"Ziva, please. I have no desire to be associated with your bed." The woman, Roxane, stated. "After all, if I recall, there would be little room for me considering all of those men you…"
"Never mind!" Ziva interrupted hurriedly. "Thanks for coming in."
Tony's grin widened.
"It was the least I could do, Ziva." Roxane's voice became serious. "If Jason is truly dead, his family will need to know. I almost called in to the office to find out if he came in today, but I didn't want to set off any alarms."
"Good thinking." Gibbs said, impressed with the logic. He received a small smile in response. The blue eyes remained sober, as if recalling that she was here to identify a body and not flirt with her friend's boss.
"Where do I go?" She asked quietly.
"Autopsy." Ziva replied. "I'll show you the way."
"Thanks." Roxane took a step away and stopped. She looked back at Gibbs. "My hand?"
"I'm coming with you."
"You are more than welcome to." She regally offered as if she ruled over the building. "But I still need my hand back."
"Of course." Jethro released her hand. He watched as she slowly brought it back closer to her body, strangely feeling as if he missed it.
"I need a date." He thought to himself.
"I need a date." She mused inwardly, suddenly feeling cold now that her hand was no longer held.