The sharp aroma of morning coffee pulled him from his restless sleep. It had been another tortured night of tauntingly real dreams. He couldn't escape her, not that he wanted to at this point. The nightly dreams over the past two days of undercover work had done nothing to appease the desire and need he felt towards her. If anything, it had blossomed the feelings, leaving him hungry for more. Rubbing the back of his neck, he stood stretching the tightness from his body, thankful he would be sleeping on the couch only one more night. Don't think my body can take another night of that.
His dreams were not the only thing leaving him frustrated. For all their work the past two days, they had come up empty-handed. In fact, things had proved more complicated by the arrival of Pendleton Surf Club, a Navy group from Camp Pendleton. Their appearance at the hotel yesterday left the team scrambling.
The eight men and women were walking billboards, with their surfboards, proudly showing Navy Surf Club. The original plan, to bait the killer with Gibbs, was now being shifted. Monitoring and befriending the potential victims was now the focus.
Gibbs was thankful for Jack's natural charm. She could make a rock feel like it was important. Her genuine charisma, winning smile, and surfing ability had proven the perfect solution to getting in with the surfing group. It had also left Gibbs needing to take a swim of his own when he saw her in her suit for the first time.
As he looked over at her standing out on the balcony, he knew he had been wise in his sleeping choice. He noticed she was lost in thought as she enjoyed her coffee and the ocean view, allowing him to enjoy his own view. The breeze gently swept the hair from her neck, showing the spot that he had the pleasure of tasting just yesterday while down on the beach.
"I'm heading in for a bit," she'd told the other surfers, laughing at their echoes of disappointment.
"I am supposed to be spending time with my husband," she laughed as she started paddling towards shore. "Don't worry; I'll be back in a bit." She assured them.
Walking back to their spot on the beach, Jack admired Gibbs's ability to seem utterly disinterested in what was going on around him. Sitting under their umbrella, he had a beer sitting next to him, sunglasses perfectly perched covering his piercing blue eyes, and a book in his lap. Some might be convinced he was napping with the infrequency of the turning pages. No one would assume he was carefully observing them, looking for anything that was out of place—intently keeping note of where their eight navy surfers were.
"How's the book?" she smiled, taking a seat next to him.
"It's been pretty slow, although things just started heating up," he smirked, glancing over at her in her suit, enjoying the coded message they were sharing.
"Yeah, the waves are pretty quiet today too, not much action at all; I hope they pick up tomorrow. I'd hate for our weekend to be a bust."
"I told the boys I'd go back out for a few more runs," she continued as she shifted her position, sitting in front of him now, leaning into his lap.
Seeing the mischievous look cross her eyes as she practically sat in his lap, he responded. "Well, I sure hope you get some kind of action, hate for you to be disappointed."
Pulling the hair off her neck, she handed him the sunblock, smiling sweetly. "Hun, can you get my back for me, I think I'm burning a bit, need to reapply before I head back out."
Ah, there it was. Well, two could play at this game, Gibbs decided. Leaning down to kiss the tender skin she had exposed to him, taking pride in the goosebumps, he felt on her skin as he feathered kisses behind her ear and down her neck.
"Of course, we wouldn't want you to get burned, would we?" he whispered in her ear as he began massaging in the sunblock, now unsure of who was teasing who.
The clock chiming brought him back to reality, which wasn't all that bad as he continued to admire Jack out on the balcony. Her peacefulness had a way of permeating the whole room, easing his weariness and stress.
Feeling eyes on her, she turned with a warm smile, "Morning, coffee's on the table."
"Thanks," he nodded, the sleepiness still evident in his raspy voice.
"The couch still remind you of home?" she asked, taking in his stiff movements as he went to retrieve his coffee, trying to hide her grin. He is so damn cute.
"Yeah, right," he grumbled, "Damn things' made of cement."
"I told you the bed is plenty big. How much room do you think I need," she continued to tease.
He shot a glare for her audacity to tease this early in the morning, all before he had the chance to drink his coffee.
Look turning warm, he answered, "Thanks, but I'm gunna stick with the couch, probably safer for both of us."
Enjoying the flush of her cheeks, he continued, "Gunna hop in the shower, try to wash these aches and sleep away." Heading for the bathroom, he hoped the cold shower would solve more problems than his sore back.
Sighing as he got in the shower, he knew today would bring the same excitement and frustrations as the past two days. The only difference was, today was the 29th. Today they would either catch a killer or discover another victim.
It was nearing sunset, and Gibbs could feel the tension rising as they sat on the beach under their umbrella. Jack had been out most of the day with the surfers, and he was sure she was mentally and physically nearing exhaustion.
They were all thankful that the surf club was back at the hotel, preparing to check out. Bobby and his men were monitoring them until they safely left the area.
"Jack, we still have time, we knew he'd most likely show up in the morning or evening today. Let's not call this yet," he said, giving her shoulder a rub, more for her at this point than the role they were supposed to be playing.
"I know," she couldn't help but frown. "I'm just glad the surf club is all accounted for. Maybe we stopped him from killing this month at least," she said, unable to hide the despair in her voice.
Hating the defeat he was hearing, he continued rubbing her shoulders, lost for words to comfort, hoping his touch would speak for him.
Leaning into his strong hands, her eyes slid closed as she began to relax as his fingers worked out the knot in her back.
"Damn, Gibbs, you have a rule for how to do this or something?" she asked, knowing the arrogant smirk she would see if she turned around to face him.
His grunt was the only reply she got as he continued to work the tight muscles in her back and shoulders slowly.
Time passed as they watched those passing by. Comfortable in the silence, Jack was lying against his chest now, as Gibbs slowly, rhythmically rubbed her arms. It felt natural, and that realization startled Jack. She was too comfortable; she had let her thoughts begin to drift.
Trying to stay focused and not let her thoughts wander to what else Gibbs's hands would be good at, she decided she needed to break the silence.
"Do you ever go fishing?" she blurted. "I can't believe we didn't fish this weekend. The pier would have been perfect for that."
Not getting a response, she continued, rambling a bit now, "I prefer fishing from a boat, but the pier is good too if you are without a boat? You do much boating?"
"Gibbs?" she asked, not getting a response from him.
"Yeah, some people aren't into boats all that much. I get it. Me? I love boats," she let out a little sigh, remembering some of her favorite past times with her family out on their boat.
Still not getting a response from him and the feeling his hands slow, she sat up.
"Gibbs?" "You okay?"
"Jack," he whispered. "How much do surfboards weigh?" His voice was low and urgent, and she was instantly alert, all thoughts of boats gone.
"Five-to-twenty pounds. Why? Gibbs, what is it?"
Nodding his head ever so slightly to his left, he continued rubbing her shoulders like nothing was amiss.
"That man down at the water's edge, he sure seems to be struggling with his surf bag. Have we seen him here this weekend?"
Slowing her suddenly racing heart, she realized he was right. He did seem to be having a difficult time carrying something that should be relatively light.
"No, I haven't seen him all weekend; he's definitely a new face."
Pausing long enough to send the team a text, she turned to him.
"Let's go!"
"Jack, wa. . ." he started to say, only to have her jump up, let out a squeal of delight and start running towards the water.
Smart, he thought, leaping up and laughing as he gave chase.
Jack ran straight for the man, who was now bent over the surfboard bag. Hearing her laughter, he suddenly stopped his movements and momentarily froze. Not wanting him to flee, she ran past him, looking over her shoulder and grinning at Gibbs.
Gibbs saw the man tense and then relax as Jack continued past him. Catching up to her, he grabbed her around the waist laughing in delight at his victory.
"What now, Jack?" he whispered as she "struggled" to free herself from him.
"It's him, Gibbs, I know it," she said, pulling them both to the ground, him on top of her.
"Good enough for me," he whispered, trying to convince his body this was not what it thought it was.
The man dismissed them as quickly as he had been startled by Jack's laughter. He had seen them around all weekend, all over each other. He would have liked to have gotten to one of them, but they were together too much. Even when she was out surfing, they were connected. He grimaced at the memory of the way they had looked continuously at each other. It was revolting. Glancing over his shoulder, he shuddered at the sight of the two of them wrapped in each other's arms. Going back to his task at hand, he unzipped his bag. He only had a few more minutes before the woman was sure to wake up. He needed to be quick.
Seeing the man go back to his bag, they sprang into action. As he reached in, he felt something jab into his back, causing him to pause his movements.
"Okay, nice and easy, bring your hands to where I can see em'," Gibbs demanded.
Stepping in front of him, she flashed her badge, "Special Agent Sloane, NCIS, I'd do what he says."
"There something wrong with taking a sunset-surf?" the man, used to charming his way out of situations, asked.
His relaxed demeanor was meant to charm, but all it did was further convince Jack they had caught their psychopath. "No harm at all, why don't you show us your board and you will be free-to-go."
This time it was Gibbs's recommending he listen. "I'd do what the lady asked," he said, stepping from behind him, gun still trained on him.
They both watched as the confident smile on the man's face turned to dark rage. "I should have known you were cops," the man spat, "No couple is that in love."
"Yeah, Yeah, turn around asshole," Gibbs cut off his rant, relieved he hadn't tried anything foolish.
Jack dropped down to look inside the bag. Slowly unzipping, disappointment covered her face that they hadn't stopped him in time.
Hearing a small groan come from within, she paused. "Oh my gosh, I think they are alive," she rushed, not realizing she had been holding her breath.
Opening the bag, she found a woman with a giant goose egg, but very much alive. Pulling the gag from her mouth, "Mam, it's okay, you're safe…NCIS, you are safe," she continued, comforting the terrified looking woman, relief washing over her face.
Looking up, she saw the tender look of relief and something else cross over Gibbs's face.
"She's alive. Gibbs, she's alive. We did it. We stopped him," she finished, collapsing into the sand.
It was at that moment her team came rushing up with at least seven other agents following behind. Shouts of "NCIS" & "FBI" were heard from all directions.
Gibbs quickly handed the man over to Jamal to cuff and take into custody. He only had eyes for the woman still sitting in the sand.
Realizing there were still important things that needed to be taken care of, he turned back to Jamal. "We need a bus for the woman; she appears to have a head wound but is relatively unscathed."
"Have Nash follow her to the hospital," he ordered, not caring whose toes he was stepping on at the moment, only wanting to get back to Jack, to make sure she was okay.
To Jamal's credit, he didn't budge. Instead, glancing down at where his Boss still sat.
"Boss?"
She had never felt more pride for her second in charge. Jamal was ready to run his own team, she realized. It was going to be hard to lose him. Seeing the glare Gibbs was giving, and Jamal's unflinching stance, confirmed she could leave the clean-up in his capable hands.
"Do it, Jamal. You've got lead, okay?"
"You sure, Boss?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.
"I'm sure. I'm done for today. I'll see you in the office tomorrow for a debrief," she replied, getting to her feet.
Gibbs reached down to give her a hand, pulling her closer than necessary, but feeling protective.
Looking up at him, she gave a small reassuring smile and a pat to his chest, taking a step back.
Taking in the activity around her, she was relieved to see the ease at which they all worked. Busy doing the tasks she had trained them to do. None seemed the wiser of the turmoil running through her mind at that moment.
It's over. I can't believe it is over. Why am I feeling so disappointed? We have him. I'm tired, I'm sure I just need sleep... .and a stiff drink.
"Jamal has point, I'm going to go call Leon," she announced to the group of agents, voice full of confidence and control.
Getting a chorus of affirmatives from the agents, she turned to head back to the hotel. Back turned; she missed the tender looked one particular agent gave her. He clearly was not buying for a minute that all was right with Agent Jack Sloane. Decided he was needed in their room too, he began to follow.