Disclaimer: see previous
A/N: Last chapter was shorter because I wrote it as one full story to start with and had to decide how to break up the chapters.
Gibbs was furious. Ok not furious, he thought, but definitely pissed. He'd known Lizzy for three years. That was three years of stolen glances, winks, and a whole helluva lot of curiosity. In three years she had failed to mention her boat. Or boats, as Ziva and Tony had filled him in. She had known that he built boats. He thought back to the night he had ran out of sandpaper and ended up at HQ. He was sure she knew about his boats. Or did she? Had he gone three years and failed to mention his latest masterpiece? He honestly wasn't sure. His boats were his escape though they rarely served their purpose. He poured his pain into those boats. The latest was his best work. Probably because he had no more exes to name it after. No pain involved. He had taken care of that with his last one. It had been all Jenny with a little Lt. Col. thrown in for balance. This boat was his. For pleasure. This one might actually see the water.
He was curious. He didn't want to be but damned if that woman didn't intrigue him. He had tried to keep his distance. He felt the electricity between them. After three years, it was more like high voltage currents. Like sitting directly under a power line and hearing it snap!crackle! and pop! He had caught her eyes on him more than once and felt it a million other times. Sometimes she was brazen in her glances. She would stare outright. He was less obvious but definitely no less in the times he had done it. But he knew better than to get involved with coworkers, especially the ones that worked under him. It was his own damn rule. Tony had finally broke and told him that Lizzy too built all her own water crafts. He had to admit he was impressed. He started to put his blinker on and pull onto his street but something stopped him. Something—probably that damn cat killing curiosity that he had always teased her about—was drawing him to the marina. It was dark now. He'd take a quick peek and leave. Just park, find the boat, give it the once over, and be on his way. He wasn't sure if they were pulling his chain or not. Had she really taken the time and patience and built like he did?
He pulled slowly onto the gravel lot and parked. Not a car to be seen. Even better, he thought. No witnesses to attest to his curiosity. As he walked across the wooden planks, he felt them sway beneath him. Lord, how he loved the water. He inhaled deeply. He stopped at each boat, searching for hers. Ziva had said it was called Little Bear. Strange name for a boat but he wasn't exactly Mr. Originality. As he looked further down the line of boats, he saw one that still had its lights on. And he knew. The famous Gibbs gut told him exactly who that light belonged to. But he couldn't drag himself away. So he continued until he came to her post. She had her back to him, hammering nails into the top of the cabin. He admired her figure. The way her jeans fit, the way her hair fell across the back of her flannel shirt. She rarely wore it down at work because it was so long. He'd been longing to run his fingers through it for three year now. She had made the mistake of wearing it down on her first day. He'd been left to fantasize about it ever since. He never saw her outside of the office. He waited for a break in the pounding.
"Permission to come aboard, Captain?"
She spun around and a smile crept across her face.
"Permission granted"
He stepped down onto the boat and came to stand next to her. He searched for something to say. Usually he was the strong silent type. Usually he made them talk first. Most women couldn't stand the silence and had to fill the void. Lizzy was arguably not like most women, as she had always made a point to tell him. It was out of character for him to say even one word more than necessary. But he found himself wanting to engage her in conversation.
"So Captain…. finished all your repairs?"
"Almost. One more coat of paint on the top of the cabin and I'm calling it a night."
She reached around him for the paint canister and brush.
"You have another one?" Gibbs said looking around.
"I think I do. Lift that seat behind you," she said, moving out of his way.
"You don't act surprised to see me" Gibbs said as he rooted through anchor lines and fishing reels.
She grinned.
"I knew it was only a matter of time. It's not like I tried to keep it a secret. It's just a hobby."
Gibbs shook his head. "Button collecting is a hobby. Boat building is a passion. It has to be in your blood." He dipped the paint brush he had found into the can and started applying a layer to the cabin.
"A passion, huh? Well, the way the team talks you've certainly built a few in your time."
"In my time?" Gibbs frowned. "You make me sound ancient."
She threw back her head and laughed.
"Now why," he asked, turning to her, "is that even remotely funny?"
"You sound positively insulted," she said as she finished putting the last few strokes of paint on the wood. She moved to the edge of the boat and leaned over to rinse out her brush in the water. His mouth went dry as he watched her. She leaned back in and motioned for him to give her his brush. He stepped closer to hand it to her and continued to stare. She was beautiful. Long, brown hair. Ok, so he'd always had a thing for the redheads but even he could appreciate a womanly figure like that. She felt his gaze and smiled to herself. She wondered how many times he had felt that way under her appreciative gaze. She turned to face him. He met her eyes. And the eyes have it, he thought. Deep blue. Like the ocean reflected. Her words broke into his thoughts.
"Your not insulted, are you?" she asked with a worried look.
"Not insulted, really," he said as she lead him into the cabin. "Am I really that old to you?" Now Gibbs was the one with the worried look.
She reached for her Redskins hoodie and slipped it on. She tossed her backpack to the deck. "Not old." She gave him the once over. "Not old, just mature."
"Gee, that makes me feel so much better."
She laughed again and he laughed too. She made him feel incredible. He had more energy around her. He wanted to be with her. He needed to be with her. But Rule #12 kept slapping him in the back of the head.
"Coffee?" she asked. He nodded and she hit the start button on the microwave.
Gibbs took seat on the only one he could find—the bed. Uncomfortable didn't begin to describe his body. He was a composed man. He always wore his poker face, giving away little. He was not supposed to feel uncomfortable.
"So I'm curious, Lizzy…." he said as he tried unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position on her bed. Her bed. The place where she slept. On her boat. Where he could sleep with her. On her boat.
"Gibbs" she said as she turned to look him dead in the eye. He looked up and she held up a single finger and motioned him closer. He leaned in. "Curiosity killed the cat, you know."
He chuckled at her words and leaned back against the wall.
He remembered the first time he had told her that. Sitting close to her, feeling the heat, wanting more. And she had only been a member of the team for a few short months at that point. But wow—had she made an impression. Her first day and she had put him in his place. A feat few had accomplished without further perishing. She had marched right up to his desk and asked where hers would be. He had known she was coming, reviewed her file, and had been notably impressed. All the right degrees, training, and skills. She was Tony, Abby, and McGee rolled into one very fine package. What he hadn't counted on was the gumption, the attitude, and the ass. Smartass, nice ass. No matter how you looked at it, she had it all. And he had wanted it all. Since the moment she had stood in front of him, hands on hips, leveling those cool blues at him, goading him, willing him, daring him to challenge her. He had spoken in the Gibbs monotone. "You don't have one...yet." Her response had been non verbal. She very quickly and efficiently had removed McGee from his chair, rolled it over to sit next to his, sat, crossed her legs, and flashed him a DiNozzo smile. "I do now. What case are we working on today, Boss?" she had asked with all the innocence she could muster. And he had answered her. By giving her and the chair a shove across the bullpen. She smiled again and gave him a look. Game on, he had thought, watching her out of the corner of his eye. And sure enough she had been there the next morning, in his chair, typing on his computer, and taking his calls. She had pushed her way to the front of the class and demanded that he take notice. So she had slowly shifted into her role on the team. She knew computers as well as McGee, she knew forensics almost as good as Abby and her researching skills were very impressive. She had needed a few sparring matches in the gym to hone her skills but he had left that to Ziva, knowing that she would not find a better trainer. Plus Ziva always had a little extra aggression left at the end of the day and Lizzy had been a quick study.
He watched her in this small cabin. She reached into a cupboard and extracted a large coffee cup. He smiled when he saw it. His mind began to wander again, back to the first cup of coffee that she had pilfered. He smiled to himself. She removed the coffee from the microwave and filled the cup. She spoke.
"So, you're curious…."
" name Little Bear?"
Liz gave a small smile and sat next to him on the bed. She sipped at the coffee before handing it to him. "My dad was Papa Bear and I was Little Bear. He taught me all about boats. How to build them, how to sail them, and even how to put them in a bottle." She pointed to the shelf. "They were his passion. A Marine to the grave." She was almost wistful as she spoke. "Semper Fi."
"I read your file. He died a few years ago?"
"Five. My boat was our last project together. He mainly supervised. There wasn't a whole lot he could do towards the end," she said in a soft voice.
"I'm sorry," Gibbs said and reached over to take her hand. It was warm to the touch.
"Don't be. Nobody lived life to the fullest like my dad. He never stopped. So I try my damndest to live my life the way he lived his."
"Well you're certainly full of something, but that could just be my age talking," he said with a grin.
She smiled and released his hand so she could turn in her seat. "You know, Abby always says that dating older is a sign of maturity. She never said what dating mature was. In any case, you probably still have a shot" she said as she reached up to run her fingers through his hair. He almost stopped breathing. "You could spike your hair up like DiNozzo and have the women standing in line."
"What about you Lizzy? Would you stand in line?" Gibbs asked in a low voice, almost a growl. Head slap, head slap, head slap. What the hell am I doing, he thought. He stood, set their coffee on the counter and pulled her to her feet. Her heart started pounding outside of her chest. She was sure Gibbs could hear it. All of a sudden she was nervous. Terrified. Excited. She found her confidence.
"As I've mentioned before—curiosity killed that damn cat," she said grabbing the lapels of his jacket.
"Is that a yes?"
"It isn't a no," she said and he could hear the smile in her voice even though she wasn't looking directly at him. She seemed to be focused on his lapel. Or a button on his shirt. She was quiet. Too quiet. Finally she looked at him. Blue eyes met blue eyes.
Had she really said that? Out loud? To Gibbs? Crazy. No, not crazy. Insane, or…or…
Her mind gave her a mental Gibbs head slap. It did nothing for her body which wanted Gibbs. All of him. Had wanted him since the first time she had laid eyes on him across that desk. And now. Now, when she was thisclose to actually having Gibbs, she couldn't make the first move. He had to move first. He was Leroy Jethro Gibbs for heavens sake and that… that means that he steps up first. Which he had. He had stood, pulled her to him. Was she missing something? They were his damn rules. He had to be the one to break them. She stared harder into his eyes, praying to find something—anything that even remotely passed as a first move. At this point she would take blinking as a green light. But L.J. Tibbs didn't blink. He didn't flinch. He just put his arms around her waist and stared back.
Had she really said that, he thought. Damn woman wants it as bad as I do. Or does she? Her hands haven't moved passed my lapel. Maybe she wants permission. Permission to what? Kiss him? Go lower than the lapel? Her voice broke into his thoughts.
"So Special Agent Gibbs," she said in a low voice, pressing closer to him. "I showed you mine," and she paused, "now I get to see yours."
He looked down to see a twinkle in her eyes that he knew—or thought he knew. The boat. She had to be talking about the boat. "Aw, hell," he said. She stood back and motioned him out of the cabin. She shut off the lights and locked the boat down. He held her hand as she stepped to the dock.