Bishop walked into Gibbs' house and down to the basement where he was working on his boat like every evening.
"Bishop," he greeted as he heard her walking down the stairs, not even bothering to look up at her as he continued working.
But she walked straight up to him and perched herself up on his workbench right next to where he was working, making him finally look up at her.
"There's a federal LEO gala coming up this weekend that we're required to attend."
Gibbs simply nodded — Leon had told the team about it a week before, and it had been the main topic of gossip around the office ever since.
"So...what's a girl got to do to get a date to it?"
Gibbs knew that she wasn't asking about being allowed to go as they were all required to attend whether they wanted to go or distinctly didn't, but he was pretty sure that he knew what she was actually asking — what did she have to do to get him to go with her as each other's 'dates', even though dates were by no means required, and really only expected out of those who were already married or at least seriously dating. But Bishop was never one to play by the rules, had been hanging out with him and following his footsteps even more than ever since Jake had cheated on her and she had dumped his sorry, cheating ass, and knew that he dreaded going to these kinds of events and so in her own weird way wanted to make it less unpleasant for him — by making everyone else feel extremely awkward around them given their extreme age difference, therefore putting up a protective social barrier where no one would try to come talk to him. Or something like that.
But back to her question, Gibbs offered the answer of, "Thirty years?", knowing that she wasn't going to let this go until he agreed to 'go with her', but seeing no reason to make it easy on her, either.
"Hi-larious," Bishop replied dryly. "Come on, don't leave me stag. I don't do these kind of gatherings any better than you do, and I know you'd rather have someone to stand around with when everyone starts schmoozing, even if it's me. We'd make a great team of social outcasts who'd rather be out kicking down doors and shooting terrorists than attending some gala for the who's who's to mingle and stack up on favors and brag about their latest conquests — business and pleasure."
"It's a bad idea," Gibbs counter-offered.
"No, making field agents go to a party with a bunch of political types who have probably all had negative interactions with the field agents there at some point or lots of some points in the past is a bad idea — this is making the best of a shitty situation," Bishop answered. "Come on, I'm not taking no for an answer. We're going together, and we're going to make sure everyone remembers why making field agents go to these things is a bad idea — if the Trent Korts of the gathering don't beat us to it."
Gibbs just shrugged before handing her a tool and returning to work himself, which Bishop took to mean 'yes', so she hopped down from the workbench and got to work on his boat like she'd done innumerable evenings before.
On the night of the gala Bishop arrived at Gibbs' house two hours before they needed to leave, bearing a peace offering of supper.
"You're early," Gibbs commented as he saw her walk in.
"Parties never have enough food, and a girl needs her time to look pretty," Bishop answered as she walked over to the kitchen table and sat down, spreading out supper for both of them. "Especially when she's having to make up for her date."
"Eating or looking pretty?" Gibbs asked with a raised eyebrow, wondering why he put up with her like he did.
"Yes," Bishop smirked back. "I'm just kidding — you're devilishly handsome in a mature way. And the gold and silver hair should go well together — or clash horribly, just like us going together. Either way, it's a win-win."
"Did you make a bet with someone on us getting kicked out?" Gibbs asked rhetorically with a roll of his eyes, just making Bishop chuckle.
After supper Bishop disappeared into the bathroom to shower, and Gibbs headed downstairs to work on his boat until he needed to get changed himself. But when he walked into his bedroom to do so an hour later, he found Bishop sitting in front of the vanity mirror that was still in there from decades before, putting on her makeup. Which was fine, except for the fact that she was sitting there in just her matching black underwear and strapless bra, red strapless dress still laid out on the bed instead of on her body protecting her modesty (or as much modesty as there could be in a strapless evening gown).
"Bishop?"
"Hey, Gibbs," Bishop replied, turning to look at him standing there in his doorway staring at her in shock at her state of undress, and if she wished hard enough, in lust at her attractive female figure (or respectful admiration of her beauty — one of those two). "Almost done — throw on my dress and heels, and I'll be good to go."
Gibbs wished that he could do the right thing and look away, or at least look down at his feet or something respectful of her as a woman, but she was too pretty, he was still too much of a guy even if older, and she was doing it far too intentionally for him to actually do what he knew he should.
So he continued to look at her, eyes glancing up and down her body, as he said, "Aren't you supposed to change where I can't possibly see you, instead of where I might walk in on you still partially undressed?"
"What, and miss you struggling to try not to gawk at me like you're not still a guy and I'm not an extremely attractive young woman half-naked in your bedroom?" Bishop teasingly scoffed. "I don't think so. You may be the boss, but tonight you're putty in my hands — get used to it."
Then she turned back to the vanity mirror and resumed finishing up the last bits of her very light makeup that was the minimum a woman could get by with in this snobbish politico crowd, signaling an end to that conversation at least for the time being. Just shaking his head, Gibbs walked over to his closet and pulled out his suit, before going to the bathroom to change. She might or might not have cared if he changed in front of her he had no idea, as her willingness to be half-naked in front of him was not the same as her willingness to see his old self partially undressed, but he was certainly still self-conscious of his age-difference to her, and anyway had a strong feeling that this was heading in directions that it distinctly shouldn't for every reason in the book — as he let it go on with only minimal, token resistance.
When he returned from the bathroom now in his suit, he found Bishop standing there in his bedroom waiting on him, holding her dress in her hands but only at waist height so covering nothing of her upper body, meaning that he was staring straight at her black strapless bra and more than ample visible bare skin.
Holding the dress out towards him while making sure not to cover his view of her breasts at all, she said, "Help me?"
"You're perfectly capable of dressing yourself," Gibbs sighed as he took the dress from her anyway, knowing when not to antagonize a female regardless of their personal relationship to each other, of which his and Bishop's was very grey at the moment, or so he was still trying to convince himself for as long as he could.
With Bishop's help he quickly had it all bunched up and then slipped it down over Bishop's upstretched arms and head, letting the bottom hem fall down to just above her ankles as the top settled on the top curves of her modest breasts. Turning around, Bishop gave Gibbs access to the zipper in the back, and once he had dutifully zipped her up she turned back to face him directly again, wanting to make him see as much of her as she could. She adjusted the dress to exactly where she wanted it to rest on her breasts and around her bra, with just enough exposed skin to be enticing and daring but not so much as to be inappropriate or slutty. Dress perfected, she closed the half-foot between her and Gibbs and placing her hands on his shoulders leaned up onto her tiptoes to give him a feathery-light kiss on the lips, before dropping back down before he could react, and turning and walking over to where she had left her high heels next to the bed.
"Thanks," she said softly looking him in the face, as she sat down on the edge of the bed to put them on.
Gibbs just nodded.
~NCIS~
As they approached the front door of the ballroom Bishop reached over and grabbed Gibbs' arm with her hand, looping her arm around his to make it obvious to anyone looking that she was there with him, and he was already taken for all of the older redheads on the prowl that night hoping to get lucky.
"Is this strictly necessary?" Gibbs muttered as they walked inside.
Her most charming smile in place both for him and everyone else there, as well as the fact that she was simply extremely happy to be walking into a black tie gala with him, Bishop whispered back, "More than — you're mine tonight."
Other than a few second glances no one paid them much attention until a bubbly goth forensic scientist espied them from across the ballroom and came hurrying over in her own black dress, knee-high platform boots, enough goth eyeshadow and lipstick to be a heavy metal singer when she wasn't bowling with nuns, and her trusty parasol, making nearly as much of a statement all by herself as Gibbs and Bishop were by being there together.
"Finally!" Abby exclaimed excitedly. "I've been waiting forever for this!"
"Abby, we're not together," Gibbs replied patiently, even if he knew in the back of his mind that Bishop was almost certainly angling to change that, and also surprised at his scientist's enthusiasm for it. But he knew Bishop better than to hope that she was going to all of this trouble just for this gala — all that would have required was a sad, 'I don't want to be there alone, let's drive and walk in together' story, not the 'date' route that she had actually gone with, and certainly not supper and him seeing her half-naked and helping her put her dress on before they came. "Bishop just didn't want to come alone, and promised to protect me from anyone trying to talk to me in exchange for quote/unquote 'coming with her'."
"Yeah, yeah," Abby waved off dismissively. "My computer statistical analysis programs never lie. But you're looking beautiful, Bishop, and you're not too bad yourself, Gibbs."
"Aww, thanks Abby, and you look good, too," Bishop replied. "And don't worry, I'll take good care of him for you. He'll still be bringing you your Caf-Pows every day."
"Oh, I know you will — it's why you two belong together," Abby answered.
But before Gibbs could try to insist again that this was just a one time mutually beneficial favor, or think about the fact that he was almost certainly right in thinking that he had a lot more blonde on his hands and in his life than he had ever wanted to deal with, a voice spoke from behind them.
"Gibbs. Agent Bishop. Miss Scuito."
They turned to find the Director standing there.
"Hi, Director," Bishop said as Abby said, "Director."
"Leon," Gibbs greeted.
"Just wanted to say hi," Vance said. Looking at where Bishop was still standing unnecessarily close to Gibbs even if she was no longer holding onto his arm after they had each spun around to face him, he added with a pointed look, "And you two, be smart. You're the two best agents we have."
"We're not—" Gibbs began as Bishop replied at the exact same time, "We will, Sir."
Vance gave a light chuckle and shake of his head, saying, "I'll let you two figure this out on your own," before giving all three of them a nod and walking away.
Abby also said, "Sorry, I would love to hang, but my counterpart from the FBI is here and I haven't talked to him in years," before giving Bishop a quick hug, Gibbs a peck on the cheek, and walking away to find her fellow forensic scientist, leaving Gibbs and Bishop alone again.
Bishop looped her arm in Gibbs' again and used it to pull him towards the food table that she had just spotted. Finally armed a few minutes later with sustenance and a glass of wine, and a glass of bourbon for Gibbs to be able put up with everyone there (his date included), Bishop followed Gibbs around the gala as he made brief smalltalk with people he knew from the intelligence community, and Bishop occasionally said hi to some old NSA coworker or joint task force colleague of her own from the alphabet community.
~NCIS~
Midway through the gala Quinn and Torres had found each other, and with their past romantic history had decided to hang together until they found Gibbs and got clearance to bust the joint for a bar or something — maybe they could even find Bishop on their way out and convince her to join them for the night out on the town drinking.
It took a lot of searching as it was a large event, but Quinn finally spotted a head of sliver hair over the crowds that she was pretty sure was theirs, and the two of them headed towards it weaving their way through the dense crowds. And as they got close to the head of silver the remaining people in front of them suddenly parted, and they were presented with not only their boss whom they were looking for, but also their fellow agent whom they were hoping to convince to go bar hopping with them and live a little.
Only, Bishop wasn't merely standing next to their boss talking to him, or whomever it was that he was talking to at the moment. In fact, the blonde wasn't talking to Gibbs or the man he was talking to at all, or even seemingly listening to or paying any attention to them at all. She was just standing nearly shoulder to shoulder with Gibbs, eating from the plate of food that she was holding that seemed to be piled high with enough calories to be any of theirs supper, idly looking around the gala like she was analyzing from afar all of the chess pieces of the intelligence community gathered. And in an absolutely stunning strapless dress, high heels, done-up hair, and light makeup accents at that.
All in all, like any dutiful date, wife, or young eye candy of the political types.
But she was Bishop, and he was Gibbs. Strangely close employee and hardass boss, true, but being there together? It was inconceivable!
"Bishop?" Quinn asked hesitantly as she and Torres made it up to them.
Bishop turned and saw them. "Hey guys, what's up?"
"What are you doing?" Torres asked rather brusquely.
"Eating," Bishop answered innocently as she held up her plate of food, completely ignoring the ostrich standing next to her — Boss Gibbs, her date.
"Mm-hm. Well, we were about to ask Gibbs if it would be okay for us to leave," Quinn replied, still side-eyeing Gibbs, clearly not buying Bishop's innocent act.
"Want to bounce with us?" Torres added. "We were thinking about hitting a few bars, having a little fun, living a little."
"Can't — he's my ride," Bishop answered with a sideways nod at Gibbs who was still talking with his old friend, paying no attention to the conversation going on behind him, trusting Bishop to be able to handle her fellow agents. "Anyway, I'm happy here. How often do I get to piss off every single rich, older, single woman in a place, along with more than a few who I'm pretty confident aren't so single. Hint — if you're married and still going to try to flirt with someone who isn't your husband, at least take your wedding band off and stuff it down your cleavage before you do so. But I guess they aren't really fishing for anyone who cares that they're married, so it doesn't matter for them. Anyway, if I hang out just a little while longer, I'm pretty sure Abby's going to make a pass at me and I might end up getting lucky tonight — she's been eyeing me from the other side of the hall all night."
Torres's eyes widened and he gasped, "Are you and Abby—?!"
Quinn slapped her hand over his mouth, leaving Bishop to idly wonder if the question had been whether she and Abby were blatant, practicing lesbos, or at the very least a little bi, or if the question was whether she and Abby were together.
"Ignore him," Quinn said apologetically. "But we could give you a ride home if you wanted to come, I'm sure Gibbs wouldn't mind."
Personally Bishop figured that Gibbs would be extremely happy with the arrangement, as it meant that she couldn't try to seduce him into anything later, but all she said to Quinn was, "I'm good. Have fun though, and get drunk for me."
Quinn had to drag Torres away as his brain was still stuck on the implied Bishop/Abby sexual liaison, but soon the two of them were outside and walking through the parking lot, where Torres asked, "Do you think Abby's really going to make a pass on Bishop?"
"I think if she does, they're not letting you watch," Quinn retorted with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, did you see Bishop standing next to Gibbs? What the hell was going on there? And since when did she dress up to the top level allowed at a required social event, or get a ride from the boss to it?"
"There was definitely something strange going on there," Torres nodded in agreement. "Undercover op we weren't put in the loop on?"
"What kind of op requires someone thinking that Gibbs and Bishop are a couple? Because no one's buying father/daughter with how close they were standing, which is the only alternative I see for an op," Quinn answered.
"I was thinking more along the lines of an escort," Torres replied. "Paid date for the evening — it's a thing at fancy parties for rich men who already have mistresses."
"Who in the intelligence community wouldn't have heard that Bishop works for Gibbs, or heard enough about Gibbs himself, to actually believe that she's an escort or that he would ever hire one?" Quinn scoffed. "Anyway, you see any other paid dates here tonight? This isn't that kind of gathering, it was mostly stag except for some of those married or seriously dating — like Tim and Delilah."
"Then what's your theory on what they were really doing?" Torres snapped back. "I don't see you offering any ideas."
"Perhaps they really are here on a date."
Quinn's suggestion hung in the air for all of two seconds before both of them burst out laughing, unable to keep a straight face for any longer than a couple of seconds after that one.
"Well, maybe some beers and shots will spur some new ideas," Torres said once they had stopped laughing as they reached his car and climbed in.
Meanwhile back inside the ballroom, Gibbs had finished talking with his friend and was now saying to Bishop, "You could have gone with them, nothing keeping you here."
"Everything's keeping me here," Bishop smirked. "But seriously, I have absolutely no desire to go out and get drunk, tonight or any other night. Anyway, you think I'm bar hopping in this dress? You've been with enough women in your long history to know that most of us have zero interest in being around a bunch of drunk men with this much skin showing — or drunk women, for that matter. You can't get rid of me that easily — Boss."
"Man can always dream," Gibbs said dryly.
But before Bishop could retort anything back, Abby hurried up from behind them and asked Bishop quietly, "Did Torres just give me a look as he and Quinn walked out?"
Bishop turned to face the other woman.
"I might have told him that if I hung around here instead of going bar hopping with them, that you might swing by and make a pass on me, that you'd been making eyes at me all night — or something like that," Bishop smirked.
"Please take her, Abby," came Gibbs' voice from behind them, making them both look over at him. "Because that means I don't have to take her back home with me, where who knows what she'll want from me."
"Hot as she looks tonight, she's all yours, Gibbs," Abby chuckled. "Girl's got you in her sights, and even for you I'm not standing in her way. Anyway, you need to live a little, and it seems like you've had a better time here tonight with her by your side than you normally do at these things. I just came over to tell you I'm heading out, but you two enjoy yourselves, and Bishop, I want all the juicy gossip at work on Monday."
After the women had exchanged hugs and Abby had walked away, Gibbs looked down at Bishop. "Looks like you've got one person on your side."
"She's on your side more than mine — she knew you a decade or more before I ever came along, and has always been your girl," Bishop answered. "She wouldn't be encouraging this if she thought I might hurt you."
"It's you I'm worried about more than me," Gibbs muttered. "I'm already broken."
"Not to me, you're not," Bishop replied softly, resting her hand on his upper arm. "Jake was broken, and tried to break me. You saved me and kept me together, and have always been there for me."
Gibbs just looked down at her, holding his tongue for now on anything that he might want to say, knowing better than to express right then any of his plethora of reservations about her being with him. They would dispute it plenty in the future he already knew, now wasn't the time.
So instead after a few seconds when she didn't say anything more, he said, "I need to go say hi to Fornell — you're free not to give him the idea you could be with me if you want."
"I'm fine," Bishop answered. "I may go back to just not wanting to be here wandering around on my own and keeping older redheads and a fourth ex away from you if he asks about why I'm with you, but I don't have a problem with him seeing me dressed up wandering around with you, or drawing any of his own conclusions if his mind can even go there — most people's can't if they know you or me, if you haven't read the minds of most people either of us have talked to so far this evening."
"It has felt like most of my colleagues and yours have given us odd looks, but not disgusted or creeped out looks like people have for thirty year age difference romances," Gibbs said quietly as he began slowly moving through the crowd towards his closest thing to a friend in the Bureau or much of any alphabet organization.
"People are going to assume what makes them least uncomfortable unless you shove the truth in their face, and then they'll still try to explain it away half the time. So as long as we never do any real pda, like holding hands — though my arm looped through yours can pass since it's more of a formal thing than necessarily a romantic one — or kissing lips or even cheeks, or either of us having our arms wrapped around each other's waist, or me touching your chest — you can't touch my chest in public under any circumstances, especially not in this dress — nobody's mind will jump to romantic. They will find any comfortable explanation that they can as to why two colleagues at a required gala are hanging out closer than would normally be expected — or as you're the one doing most of the talking and I'm just standing next to you eating and drinking and looking around like I'm bored out of my gorram mind, why your cute blonde agent is hanging out with you. Any of which said possible comfortable explanations are socially acceptable enough if simply unusual," Bishop gave her explanation of how she saw it.
But now they were nearing Fornell so Gibbs didn't say anything in reply, instead simply leading his blonde date up to the FBI agent.
"Tobias," Gibbs greeted his FBI counterpart, causing the suit to turn and see him, and Bishop walking up with him, to which the man raised a surprised eyebrow.
"Gibbs — Agent Bishop — how wonderful to see you both!" he greeted them in his normal fakely enthusiastic tone that no one ever bought. "Bishop, did you lose a bet or something at the office to have to chaperone this guy around all night?"
"Yeah, something like that," Bishop replied dryly. "That or I didn't want to have to wander around a fancy party where I knew no one all by myself, and in exchange I keep the older redheads from swarming like flies around Gibbs."
Fornell laughed in his normal way that was impossible to actually tell what he was thinking, before turning to Gibbs and beginning to talk shop. As she had been doing all night Bishop turned one ear to the conversation as she physically turned her entire body to look out at the crowd and analyze/silently judge everyone whom she could see, and be on the lookout for any naughty redheads heading towards her silver-haired boss/date.
There had actually been few so far that evening, though Bishop wasn't sure if that was just because the pool was smaller than normal that evening, as she hadn't seen too many floating around and those she had seen mostly seemed to be spouses of intelligence community invitees, or if her presence had actually succeeded in keeping them away. But after a few minutes she did see one slowly approaching them, clearly trying to be subtle about it as she had clearly seen the much younger than herself girl standing close to Gibbs in a very fancy, revealing dress. So as the woman looked away from Bishop and Gibbs' back, in order to move sideways through the crowd for a second, Bishop took the opportunity to turn back to Fornell, closing the foot or so she had allowed between herself and Gibbs, and looping her hand through his arm as she pressed her side up against his.
For his part Gibbs didn't look down at his crazy agent for even a split second, just letting her move his arm as she needed to in order to do whatever hairbrain scheme she had going on now for whatever reason she did — they had just had a discussion about how no one would assume that they were 'romantic' if they showed no pda, so he trusted that anything she would do that pushed that line had a very solid reasoning behind it. She only played with fire as far as the two of them were concerned, not when it came to anyone else or his or her reputations or perception to anyone else. As for Fornell, he just briefly glanced down at her as she moved and assumed a position much more intimate with Gibbs, before continuing on his conversation with the boss man figuring it not worth questioning anything happening on Gibbs' team.
About thirty seconds later, the redhead slipped into view on the other side of Gibbs from where Bishop was standing against his side. Out of the corner of her eye Bishop saw the woman give a disdainful look at Bishop's arm looped through Gibbs' and how very close the skanky blonde was standing to her target, but the redhead clearly wasn't dissuaded by any of this as she struck what Bishop was pretty sure was supposed to be a (gala appropriate) 'seductive pose' showing off her best assets — aka the massive cleavage of her giant boobs that had to be fake to be so full and round at that woman's age and breast size (regardless of age, but even more so because of age). Bishop didn't react, keeping her full (appearance of) attention on Fornell and whatever the hell he was rambling on about that she was quite sure Gibbs was only half paying attention to as well by this point, waiting on the redhead to make the first move probably when Fornell finally moved on, carefully watching, observing, analyzing, and most definitely judging the older woman out of the corner of her eye.
Fornell did eventually reach the end of his story and say goodbye to Gibbs and Bishop, and move on to other parts of the crowd, allowing the redhead to slide full in front of the NCIS pair.
"Excuse me, Miss, but do you mind if I have a moment alone with Special Agent Gibbs?" the woman said sweetly and quite smoothly, actually impressing Bishop with how she was trying to go about her seduction.
But that didn't mean that Bishop was going to fold to her — she had truthfully come here in part to protect Gibbs from all threats foreign and red-headed, and damn if she was going to not do her job now that she had the opportunity to simply because she was impressed with how the threat was going about it.
"I do in fact mind," Bishop answered politely but firmly. "If it's a matter of security clearance, I have the same clearance as Gibbs does, so I'm authorized to hear whatever you might have to say — here in the middle of this open gala. Else, I can certainly hear whatever you have to say."
The redhead looked at her in surprise, clearing having expected the presumed agent of Leroy Jethro Gibbs to scatter immediately, before looking back at Gibbs himself hoping that he would tell his agent to scram from whatever weird reason she was hanging by his side, arm looped in his inappropriately intimately for a woman of her age with a man of his age (and probably throw boss/employee impropriety on top of that, though work was probably why she was doing it if the redhead was forced to guess, which she fortunately wasn't).
"Ellie stays," Gibbs answered, surprising both women that he used Bishop's first name, perhaps even Bishop more than the redhead as Bishop knew that he was doing it to emphasize their closeness, while it was theoretically possible for the redhead to wonder if 'Ellie' (or some spelling derivative) was an extremely uncommon last name — a derivative of 'Ellis' or something, like Sara Elly or something equally unlikely but not entirely impossible.
"Oh — well, uh…" the redhead began, clearly scrambling for a new plan of attack now that she couldn't get Gibbs alone in her long, blood red-painted talons.
But Bishop never gave her the time.
"You're here to try to flirt with Gibbs and ask him out on a date, aren't you, ma'am?" she said without any hint of a question. "Well, sorry to have to deliver the bad news, but as you can see, he's already taken. By me. The much younger, hotter, blonder woman in the more revealing strapless black tie evening gown. And just between you and I — he's had enough of redheads for the rest of his life, even if they can't seem to get enough of him. So if you actually have something to talk to him about, then go right ahead, as like I said earlier I can hear anything you'd have to talk about, but if you're here because he's an attractive silver-haired gentleman and you're — hopefully at least — a single, lonely, older redhead, I'm politely asking you to move along and leave my date alone."
The redhead stared at Bishop in shock for several long seconds, before finally bursting out (causing several heads in the nearby vicinity to turn and look at them), "You can't possibly be with him, you skank! You're way too young!"
At that, Bishop made a risky decision that she hoped wouldn't make her 'date' too mad at her. She turned and placed her hands on either side of his neck, leaning further up on her toes than her heels were already making her and kissing him gently but fully on the lips, before coming back down again and turning to face the redhead once more.
"You were saying?" she said coolly, with a pointed look at the older woman.
The woman glared furiously at Bishop for a second longer, before turning and storming off without a word, her magnanimous plans foiled by this skank trying to climb the corporate ladder by sleeping with her boss. The crowds around meanwhile looked on for a few seconds longer, but as Bishop merely brought her closer hand up to lightly rest on his upper arm and turned her body slightly so that she was halfway facing him again, looking up at him in reality to see if he was going to scold her for kissing him in the middle of a gala with people around who could know him and go gossip to the rest of the intelligence community (though also doing all of this to make the crowds go back to whatever they had been doing before the redhead had turned it all into a scene), they quickly did turn back to their own little groups, though Bishop could hear plenty of whispering that sounded an awful lot like it was probably about them and the fact that she had just kissed NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs on the lips and he had just let her like it wasn't unusual. Once they had all turned away again, and Gibbs didn't immediately scold her, Bishop used her hand on his arm to lead him away from the crowds that they had been in the midst of who had seen her kiss him, and off to a more secluded corner where no one around would yet know anything that had just occurred.
Once they were for the most part alone, Bishop looked up at him and said quietly, "Sorry if I went too far and you're understandably mad at me. It just seemed like the best way to make her understand and go away."
"You're fine, Bishop," Gibbs answered. "I would have preferred nothing so blatant occur here at the gala, your whole speech about no one jumping to this conclusion if there was no pda, but I'm not upset with you."
"Thanks," Bishop smiled sincerely. "But if we can bounce before rumor spreads too far, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea. Rumors will spread a lot thinner and more ridiculous and not really believable if no one sees us together again for the rest of the party, by not seeing us at all."
Gibbs nodded. "I've probably been here long enough to appease the uppers. Let's find Leon and make sure, and then we can leave — even if that means I have to go back to my house with you."
Bishop barely restrained herself from sticking her tongue out at him, figuring that she had made enough scenes there already and didn't need to add immaturity to whatever else everyone there already thought of her. So instead, she teased, "A beautiful young woman is throwing herself at you because she likes and respects you, and you have to go and say mean things like you don't want her spending time with you."
"Spending time with me is fine, if it's talking or working on the boat or just hanging out in my living room," Gibbs replied as he began leading them through the party again, trying to find the Director. "It's how you want to spend time with me, and especially tonight, that's the problem."
Bishop knew that teasing him further wouldn't do anything good for her so she didn't say anything more, simply following him through the crowd as his gut sussed out where the big boss was. And soon enough Gibbs found him, and they walked up.
"Leon, just wanted to let you know we're heading out," he said to the Director.
"Goodnight, Gibbs," Vance replied. "Take care of yourself, and like I said earlier, be smart about whatever you two are or aren't doing. I like my job too much for Agent Bishop to replace me as Director."
"Bishop is a lot, but she's not Jenny Shepherd," Gibbs answered with a wry chuckle.
"Just be careful — NCIS needs you both," Vance replied. "And see you at work Monday."
Gibbs and Bishop both said goodbye, before heading towards the doors of the ballroom together. They were soon outside and in Gibbs' truck, where he drove them back to his house with minimal attempts at conversation from either of them, both plenty comfortable enough with each other not to need noise to fill the time.
Once he had pulled into his driveway and stopped, Bishop climbed out and strutted towards the front door, giving Gibbs plenty of time to see her swaying hips if he was looking, which she had a feeling he was as he followed her inside his house. Walking into his living room she walked straight over to his couch and plopped down, kicking off her heels as she stretched her hands up over her head and yawned — galas were exhausting in her opinion, she'd much rather be out running down a murderer. Gibbs had closed the door behind them and walked into the room as well by this point, and took in the seductive image his blonde agent was making, the position straining the bodice of her strapless dress as her breasts tried to make their escape from their confines. But it wasn't to be yet, as Bishop soon brought her arms back down to her lap and her breasts resumed their normal position.
Unfortunately for Gibbs though she had seen him staring at her, and asked in an innocent tone, "Oh, sorry, were you enjoying the almost view of my tits? I can take the dress off entirely for you if you'd like."
"Bishop, you're being ridiculous," Gibbs sighed as he sat down in his armchair, never taking his eyes off of her.
"No, I'm being flirty, I just can't be normal flirty because you'll ignore it and pretend you don't know what I'm doing because you think you're too old and broken for me, so I'm having to be blunt," Bishop replied. "Ridiculous is you trying to ignore a woman throwing herself at you. And just so you know, I'm not actually going to ask you to have sex with me tonight. I really would be as big of a skank as that redhead called me if I tried to have sex with you after a first date that wasn't really even a first date at all, even if becomes what we call our first date if we actually start dating. But whether this really was our first date or not, it is way too early in our relationship that you may or may not actually agree to start with me to have sex. So stop worrying."
"Then what are you going to try to do?" Gibbs asked only mildly less worried after her 'reassurances', as there was a wide area between hanging out in his living room relaxing until she left for her apartment and sex, and she had already well passed all of the normal friendship lines before they had even left for the gala. Oh — and of course kissed him twice already that evening, couldn't forget about that.
Bishop pushed herself up off of the couch and took the few steps over to where he was sitting in his armchair, and gracefully sat down next to him in his chair in the spot that he made for her by scooching over as much as he could in order to give her room — or ended up half sitting in his lap and half against the armrest since he didn't move at all, her legs stretched across his lap hanging down next to his legs on the opposite side of where her upper body was.
Wrapping her arm around his shoulder as the other lightly smoothed out the skirt of her dress, she answered, "Physically I'm thinking cuddling like this and then cuddling even more as we share your bed for the night, while emotionally, or whatever you want to call that, we agree to start dating for real. Oh — and kissing. Definitely some more of that kissing thing we've done once or twice tonight, that was nice."
Gibbs rolled his eyes at her flippancy about the kissing, before addressing the easiest hole he saw in her plan. "You have minimal clothing here. I'm far from an expert on women, but I'm pretty sure nothing you wore here before changing into this is sleep clothes. And this definitely isn't."
"And here after four wives I would have thought that you had us all figured out by now," Bishop teased, before answering, "But all I need to sleep comfortably in is a t-shirt without my bra on underneath, and underwear. Which that second part may be pushing your comfort levels too far even if you've already seen them on me before you helped me with my dress, but I have no problem with it."
"The moment you asked to go to this gala you were pushing my comfort levels too far," Gibbs retorted. "But like I never stopped you then, I'm not stopping you now. Kissing was to be expected, after the first kiss before we left with no one around to be doing it for other than yourself, and then certainly when you were willing to kiss me seriously in front of everyone even if that did have a specific purpose, and were clearly enjoying it far too much for me being twice your age. And sharing a bed is less than having sex in said bed, which I did consider a completely possible request from you given everything you've said and done this evening."
"So that's a yes on everything I want to do tonight?" Bishop asked in excited clarification, surprised that she was getting everything she wanted so easily, as while she had fully expected to weasel and persuade her way into everything she wanted, she had expected him to put up more of a resistance even if it was clearly a token one to emphasize his belief that she shouldn't want him.
"Physical, yes," Gibbs answered. "No point trying to resist what you're going to find a way to convince me to let you do anyway. And if we're talking on a purely physical level, nothing that is hard for me, only should be for you even though it somehow clearly isn't. But on the mental/emotional level, agreeing to start dating is a discussion, not a yes, even if we both know I'm deluding myself about that. And mentally accepting the physical is my problem, not yours."
"Doesn't mean I don't want to try to help you let yourself enjoy all the physical with me and accept that it's not wrong just unusual, or that I don't truly want you in all ways including physical and intimate," Bishop replied. "But discussion I can definitely work with, even if you essentially promised that I'm winning this."
"Yeah, probably shouldn't have said that part out loud," Gibbs said dryly.
"Like you said, we both know it," Bishop replied. "You never would have let all this get this far, knowing full well at least what my intentions could be, if you weren't at least open to the idea after a little persuasion. So since we're clear on the physical side, let's have that discussion.
"I want to date you. That much should be fairly obvious already, but there it is in black and white, blunt stated words that can't be misconstrued. And as has also been said, no it is not normal, most other people would even go so far as calling it creepy or something of that negative nature, and given most of the large age difference relationships that I have spotted here and there over the years, I can't disagree. But those relationships all looked like they were about sex, or power, or money, or college grades, or daddy issues, or manipulation by the older man. None of those apply here, as I have no clue how wealthy you are or aren't, I'm obviously not climbing up the NCIS ranks by sleeping with the boss, I've already said I don't want sex until this is already well-established, and I'm the one begging you to say yes to me, you haven't come on to me a single time in all of this because you're the one who thinks it's wrong, I'm the one who's trying to convince you that it's not.
"And speaking of that, I know you don't see this as an appropriate relationship because I am so much younger than you, quite literally born the year after your daughter was born. So that's reason one, and honestly about the best I've got to say in response is appropriate-schmopriate, I want it and I'm the one whom it's normally inappropriate towards, if you want to say it like that. Possible reason two, you might be worried about physically being able to keep up with me and keep me happy. I can handle that and have no problem being in charge. Reason three, you don't like me romantically. If that is the case I'm screwed, though quite the opposite of literally, because if you don't like me in this way there's just nothing I can do about that no matter how much I like you. But I don't think that's at all the case, or as mentioned before, it never would have got to this point, and you were happy with me at the gala which is the closest situation we've had so far to domesticness, to what dating would actually be like.
"Which leads into reason four, our future together. I'm young, you're old, we obviously can't start a family together because of that, as well as the fact that we're both obsessed with the job. But also, barring tragedy on the job, you'll die roughly thirty years before I do because that's how much older than me you are, leaving me a widow at still a fairly-ish young age, or at least long before anyone should have to become a widow. And then of course the question about our future that all those are based on, if dating goes well like I expect it to, is our future marriage, and if not then what is it? I'm obviously all for marriage, but I only have one unsuccessful one, you have three plus tragically becoming a widower and daughterless. So you not wanting to get married again is completely understandable, which I've just realized might be even more likely the case since I could possibly remind you of your daughter a little bit minus the red hair, making this even weirder for you. As for the other questions, though, I'm not interested in having a family of my own, protecting and getting justice for everyone else's families is enough for me, and like I said we are too obsessed with our job to have a family even if you were my age. And as far as you making me a widow, I think the simplest answer for me to give is that it's better to love for a few years, or hopefully decades, than to never love at all. Or to completely misquote what CS Lewis was actually writing in the 'Magician's Nephew', but fits in here if you just look at the words, there might be things more terrible even than losing someone you love by death — it's the 'things like not dating them in the first place' that I'm adding in there. But my point is, even if I do lose you long before I'd prefer, or lose you on the job which is just as likely if we're being honest, I'd still rather have what time I can have with you than have none of it at all.
"Which sort of segues into reason five, which is the classical what happens with work if I'm wrong and we break up? — The big reason businesses oppose interpersonal relationships. Well, first off, I don't think I'm wrong, or I wouldn't be trying to take this risk. But if heaven forbid I am, if it's a mutual agreement that we aren't meant for each other, in theory at least we should be able to go right back to being great employee/boss who kick ass at work as the best team NCIS has ever had. And if it isn't so mutual, well, like Vance said, I won't be pulling a Jenny Shepherd on you and becoming director over you, so you'll still be able to either fire me or really just tell me to quit if you can't work with me any longer and I'll obey, or use the fact that you are my boss to give me all the assignments and parts of the job that no one else wants, and I'll do them just as hard and diligently as I do my job now because you're the boss, I'll always do what you tell me to, no matter what's happening between us outside of work. And finally, reason six, which exists exactly because of reason five, is your rule number twelve — don't give me rule number twelve, I know your rules better than anyone besides yourself. And I think that about covers everything."
"Well, that was convenient — you just had the whole discussion for me, I never had to say a word," Gibbs said dryly once she was finished.
"Oh please, like you wouldn't prefer it that way," Bishop retorted with a roll of her eyes. "But seriously, that doesn't mean you don't still have anything to add to it. I didn't answer all the discussion points I so graciously made up for you, or that you don't have something I missed — I'm only mostly infallible, not completely."
Gibbs thought back over everything that Bishop had said for several seconds as his hand subconsciously lightly stroked up and down the lower half of her side (soon after she had sat herself down on him and his chair, his hand had come to rest on the silky smooth material of her dress on her waist, just resting there until now), before finally saying, "I'm not in theory opposed to getting married for a fifth time, especially as the only way it would ever even be a question is if I was sure that you would be another real wife, and not an ex. Other than that, you've pretty much said all the potential problems with this, and while I may or may not agree with your reasonings about them, and I certainly don't feel like I'm worthy of you or could ever be, like I did say when I said we needed to have a discussion, at the end of the day you were always going to get what you want. And I will say you were thorough."
"But are you really okay with dating me? Or, I guess, what I really mean is, can you let yourself enjoy this the way you should?" Bishop asked. "Regardless of whether you ever feel that it's right for you to date me, or really because you don't feel that it is, can you still embrace it and enjoy it as fully as I want you to be able to, as much as I will? This isn't just about making me happy, it's not supposed to be about making me happy at all — it's supposed to be something we can equally enjoy and fully live."
"Give me time and I'll try," Gibbs answered. "If I can forget about the age disparity and dating you become the same as you hanging out here working on my boat or just relaxing or working on your laptop on my couch, then yes. You're smart, funny, beautiful, and enjoyable to be around, and I'm still a guy, a woman wanting to physically hang all over me and kiss me will be enjoyable, so I will obviously be happy with this relationship from that perspective so long as my propriety doesn't ruin it. You're everything a man could want, especially an old man like me who should be long past having this, but it is hard to overcome a strong sense of right and wrong, even after all the grounds to call it wrong are taken away."
Bishop turned her head to face him completely and used the hand of her arm that was around his shoulders to gently push his face to be facing hers, before leaning forward the half a foot between them to kiss him softly.
Pulling back, she said, "I'll do whatever I can to help you eventually feel like this is okay so that you can fully enjoy this as much as you should. But I'm not Grace, I have zero psychological experience or training, so I don't honestly know what to do except try to show you how much I enjoy being with you and want to be with you and how happy I am with you. I do ask you to talk with me though when those feelings come up, as while I may not know what to say, you simply saying what you're feeling out loud might help you at least a little, instead of keeping it all bottled up inside. And I know you don't talk more than you have to, but please make this one of those have to's — I want this to work, and I want you to be happy. Now can I make you, or at least me, happy by snogging you and making out like a horny teenage girl?" she finished with a smirk.
"I already said yes to the first part — I didn't say anything about the second," Gibbs answered.
"Wonderful!" Bishop replied, ignoring the second half of his comment as he still hadn't said that she couldn't. "Now, don't think — just feel. Which includes my boobs in this barely covering silkily dress. If you pull it down, or even pull my bra under it down at all, don't worry — you have my permission to touch my bare breasts, if you can just get permission from yourself."
Then without waiting for an answer she leaned back in and snogged him passionately, bringing her other hand to wrap around the back of his neck and hold him close.
~NCIS~
Eventually Bishop grew tired of making out no matter how good it felt having Gibbs' lips against hers and his large hands roving over her body including her covered breasts from time to time, or maybe just tired in general after the long and emotionally taxing night, and she sat back again like she had been while they were just talking.
They sat there like that in silence for a long while, like on the truck-ride back from the gala neither of them feeling the need to fill the silence with noise, both simply enjoying the other's close physical presence, until finally Bishop let out a long, content sigh.
"Okay there, Bishop?" Gibbs asked quietly.
"Yeah," Bishop answered. "It was a happy sigh. Just a tired sigh too, and I don't do nothing very well for a long time, but there's nothing I want to do or it's too late to really do anything. It's like the night's reached its end but it's still too early to go to bed, and I already nixed the possibility of filling the time with sex — besides the fact I'm really kind of too tired for that tonight anyway even if we were somewhere in the future at that relationship level."
"It'll take a little time for two people to get ready for bed especially when they aren't going to completely change in front of each other, and even in bed if you're still not feeling tired you can talk for a while about whatever before we actually go to sleep," Gibbs answered. "And it is late enough to go to bed now even if we both normally stay up later. And if you want to go to the diner before church tomorrow morning, you still have to get by your apartment in there somewhere for church clothes since you're not wearing this dress or a day-old t-shirt and jeans, so we'll have to get up a little earlier than you probably normally do on a Sunday morning."
"Oh, yeah — forgot about that," Bishop replied. "Speaking of which, are we going to mine or yours? Or Abby's so she can see that we're actually together now since she's our number one cheerleader?"
"Whichever you like, and you can pick in the morning if don't decide now, assuming you know all the times they start," Gibbs answered. "But we should be moving towards my bedroom regardless."
Bishop nodded and stood up, before turning around and holding out her hand to pull him up after her. Then they walked into his bedroom together, Bishop in front, until she reached the center of his bedroom and stopped with her back still towards him.
"Zipper, please."
Gibbs unzipped the zipper on the back of her dress that he had zipped up much earlier in the evening, already knowing what she was about to do. And sure enough as soon as he was done, Bishop turned to face him and with a quick pull on her dress with her fingers where her hands were hanging by her hips, had the loosened bodice over the swell of her breasts and falling into a puddle on the floor around her feet, leaving her standing there in just her black strapless bra and panty set. Stepping out of the dress towards her new boyfriend, Bishop stepped right in close to Gibbs and reached up, lightly wrapping her hands around the back of his neck and pulling herself up on her tiptoes to his level, and pressed a languid kiss to his lips. Gibbs meanwhile decided to take a slight risk and wrapped one arm behind her back and gently pulled her flush against his front. A move that was clearly the correct one, as Bishop's kissing turned from languid to a little more passionate, and she ground her chest against his even if she knew that between her bra and his button-up shirt that he wouldn't feel anything more than her smushing her breasts a little harder against him.
But eventually she pulled back and Gibbs let her go, letting her fall back to the flats of her feet, where still looking up at him she said softly, "Thank you, Gibbs."
"For some reason, you're my far too young girlfriend now," Gibbs replied. "Which means I'm going to try to do right by you, and I do have just a little experience with women, even if most of it has been a failure."
"Well, this is one girl I know you won't fail," Bishop said with a loving smile. "Anyway, everyone knows that those three were all crazy. And while I'm pretty sure most people will say I'm crazy too, at least I'm your kind of crazy."
"You're definitely crazy, but apparently I am now as well," Gibbs replied. "Now go finish getting ready, and spare me any full nudity for at least one night."
Bishop just chuckled as she turned and walked over to her bag that she had left on the dresser and pulled out her t-shirt she had worn over there several hours earlier and her toiletries she had brought just in case she got lucky enough to spend the night, and then headed towards his bathroom to complete her nightly routine. By the time she returned Gibbs had picked her dress up from its puddle on the floor and folded it up neatly and laid it on the bottom edge of the bed. Bishop walked over and laid her strapless bra down on top of it that she had just been holding in her hand as she had walked in, before picking both of them up and carrying them over to her bag that she had brought everything in, including some actual sleep shorts in case she needed them, but if he was going to be okay with her just being in her underwear she wasn't going to mention that she had them and risk him possibly asking her to wear them. Gibbs, meanwhile, stood up and headed into the bathroom himself to get ready.
By the time he got back a few minutes later Bishop was already lying in his bed, waiting on him. So he flipped off the light and walked around to the other side of his bed, crawling in next to her. Once he had shifted over close to the center of the bed since he knew that she would want to cuddle with him, and had lain down flat on his back like he normally slept, Bishop shuffled the foot or so over to him and stretched up to give him a light goodnight kiss on the lips, before shifting back down slightly to curl into his side, throwing an arm over his stomach and laying her head on his chest to use as her pillow, especially as there was only the one pillow in the bed, Gibbs never having had a lady sleep with him in his bed since moving back into it the previous year.
Once Bishop was fully nestled into his side and he had the sheet pulled up around her shoulders, Gibbs quietly said, "Goodnight, Ellie. And while I may regret saying this for a while, I had a good time tonight."
"Me too, Gibbs," Bishop smiled into his chest, squeezing him lightly in the best hug that she could give him at the moment. "And I promise I'll do my best to never let you regret any of this. But for now, goodnight, and sweet dreams of me."
As Gibbs lightly stroked her back where he had wrapped his arms around her to hold her close, she quickly fell asleep happy and excited about her future, and more specifically their future together.