***Disclaimer: Ok, I couldn't guarantee I would borrow Gibbs and bring him back without a few marks but he'd be wearing a smile? That counts right? Right? "Horseshoes and hand grenades, Tony." Horseshoes and hand grenades…
She brought her eyes up to meet his.
"You are a good man," she said. "A good man with a shitty sense of timing."
She smiled and he shook his head a little, giving her a questioning look.
"Now," she said. "Now, when you have completely obliterated the curiosity between us and then dropped me like yesterday's news, now you think would be a good time to mention that a baby wouldn't be a problem."
She still had a smile on her face but he knew that there was a serious undertone to her words. He returned her smile.
"Hey… just to be clear…we obliterated that curiosity together."
She couldn't help but chuckle.
"But you were right about one thing...," Gibbs said, taking his hand and moving it along her side.
This time it was her with the questioning look.
"I do have a shit ass sense of timing,"
He watched her shift a little bit in the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position, or trying to get the hell away from him – he wasn't sure which – when he heard her stomach growling loudly.
"Come on, shorty, I'll buy you breakfast."
A full laugh escaped her and again she grabbed at her sides, aware that the painkillers hadn't kicked in yet.
"Buy?" she said, shaking her head. "No. You, sir, will be making breakfast this morning."
"But wouldn't talking be easier if someone else was doing the cooking?"
"Easier for who?" she asked as she shooed him off the bed so she could attempt to make her escape from the confines of her covers.
He stood but never moved from beside the bed. He waited patiently as she slid her feet to the floor and grabbed his side to pull herself up. Once she had steadied herself, she tried to move her hand from his side but found that it was easier said than done. She made attempt after attempt but to no avail. Her mind and her heart were working against her, making it physically impossible to drop her hand from the warmth of Gibbs side. Again she tried and again she failed. It was turning into an all out brawl. Having Gibbs close…so close and not wanting to let go. But she remembered the words. The words that had torn a path to her heart. He would've been ok with it, she thought. But what other choice would he have had? Gibbs wasn't the kind of man to shun responsibility and she knew that he never would have left her in the first place if he had known. But the fact remained that he did leave her. He had stood in front of her, hell, in front of everyone and point blank told her it wasn't going to work. It wasn't going to work because he couldn't handle it. He had let it interfere in his job.
In the three and a half years that she had been a member of his team, she had learned and memorized 'the rules'. Well, the rules that he had let them know. She knew that nobody so far had been privy to all of them. She also knew that there was a purpose for and a reason behind each one. And while the team joked and teased about 'the rules', every one of them used it as a code for their own lives. And of course, Rule # 12 was always at the front of many conversations, many arguments, and many, many debates. Abby and McGee. Tony and Ziva. Her and Gibbs. The discussions had been fierce over where # 12 originated from. Some said it was Kate. Some said it was Jenny. No matter the who, Lizzy knew it had to have come from somewhere and she knew that it took a lot for Gibbs to break it. But he had broken it for her. For her.
The descent down the stairs was a slow one but they eventually made it to the couch. She sat down slowly and he turned to go to the kitchen. She grabbed his hand.
"Hey," she said, looking up at him.
"Hey yourself," he threw back.
She squeezed his hand but didn't speak. He read the words in her eyes.
"Breakfast isn't a cop out," he said leaning in to kiss her lips. "We'll talk after."
He started to walk away but again she held tight to his hand. He looked down at her, exasperation showing in his features.
"I promise," he said sternly.
She shook her head negatively.
"What? You want a pinky swear too?" he asked.
"Just wanted to ask for strawberries on my Belgian waffles," she said, smiling.
"Belgian waffles?" he asked incredulously.
"Mmmmhmmm."
"I was thinking more along the lines of coffee and oatmeal. I can do coffee and oatmeal."
"You can do a lot of things, Gibbs, just some better than others."
He saw the twinkle in her eyes and his mind suddenly flashed to all the things he had done well with her. Then it flashed to all the things she had done well with him. There were a lot of flashes.
He put his hand to his heart. "Are you questioning my ability to cook a quality meal?"
"Well, I am an investigator…trained by the best. Questioning is what I do."
"And yet you seem to have learned so little."
"And if by questioning, you mean utterly terrified of being unknowingly poisoned, then yes. Yes I am questioning your meal making abilities.
He stepped toward her, holding the spatula threateningly.
"Did Ziva ever mention the time she rendered a man unconscious with just a plastic spatula?"
Lizzy stopped laughing only because she was almost sure Gibbs wasn't kidding. Until she saw the smallest glint of laughter in his eyes. Well, geez, she had seen Ziva bring Tony to his knees with a paperclip. She had seen her make McGee cry with a rubber band. Imagine what she could do with a very thin, very flexible kitchen utensil. It could've been true. Gibbs stepped closer to the back of the couch, the aforementioned weapon hidden conspicuously behind his back. She feigned fright until his lips captured hers. She smiled into his kiss, loving the way his tongue traced her lips. He pulled away almost sorrowfully, smiling at her as he retreated back to his kitchen duty.
After a couple of attempts, she managed to retrieve the remote from the far end of the coffee table. She clicked the TV on to her usual CNN morning show. She would hear the occasional clinking of plates and clanking of plans but relaxed as the smell of sausage filtered into the living room. The morning news anchor gave a story teaser before going to break.
"Hey," she said loudly, getting no immediate response. She tried again.
"Hey!!"
"What?!" he said, never leaving his post at the stove.
"Come here," she said, tilting her head back over the couch to look at him.
"Would you make up my mind?"
She let out a small laugh. "Come here….please. You gotta see this report."
"It had better be an asteroid headed for earth if I have to leave that kitchen."
"Better."
"Better?"
"Better," she said knowingly.
He came from the kitchen and stood behind the couch leaning his hands on her shoulders as the anchor lady popped back onto the screen.
'Good morning, everybody. I'm Robin Meade. Glad you're here with us this morning. Here's some good news for all of you singles out there. A special CNN poll says that 40% of working Americans have dated a coworker and of that 40%, one third are now married. Another 10% said they wanted to date a coworker right now. …In other news, author Thom E. Gemcity's newest book, Deep Cover has made it to the top of New York Times bestseller list less than 24 hours after its release…'
"See… I told you there was a reason for Rule # 12."
"Gibbs, they said 40 %..."
"And what about the other 60?"
"I could say that rules were meant to be broken but you'd probably counter with curiosity killed the cat," she said, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her shoulders.
"You and that damn cat…," he said, shaking his head and leaning down to drop a kiss against her neck. He lifted his head back up only to be pulled back down for a quick kiss. He nuzzled her ear and whispered. "If you don't let me go, I'm gonna burn the pancakes."
She released him quickly then, her stomach overriding her libido for once. She watched him return to the kitchen and loved the way he filled the room. The house. Her life. When was the last time a man had cooked for her, she thought? It had been a helluva while, her mind answered. She watched as Gibbs expertly flipped the pancakes to two plates, roll the sausage on the side, and slide the dippy eggs onto the top of the hotcakes. Her mouth watered. She might even have drooled a little. She hadn't had a decent meal in at least a week. Gibbs cooking had to better than the hospital food. It couldn't be any worse, right?
She turned the channel to an XM station as Gibbs came around the couch to help her into the kitchen. She let him hold her elbow to steady herself but that was all. She was determined to make it to the table with as little help as possible. She wasn't an invalid and as much as she might have wanted to milk this injury and soak up the Gibbs time, she just couldn't do it. Her competitive nature was pitting her mind against her body as they fought to control her. She made it to the table with minimal pain as the meds started to kick in. He let go of her elbow and moved to the seat across from her. No sooner had she sat down than the food was in her mouth. An actual moan escaped her lips as she took her first bite. Ten minutes later her plate was clear and not a word had passed between them. He hadn't realized she was that hungry.
"Would you like more?" he said, grinning as he stood up to take her plate, already knowing the answer to his question. After she'd finished off yet another plate of home cooked goodness she pushed back from the table slightly and rubbed her stomach.
"I don't know if that food was damn good or if I was just damn hungry."
"Another attack on my culinary skills, Agent Edwards?"
"And before today, when was the last time you cooked for anyone, much less a woman?"
He started to speak but closed his mouth when he realized he honestly couldn't remember. He had always bought the ladies take out. Chinese, pizza, Thai, Indian…the list went on and on, but cooking? In an actual kitchen? With actual, unprepped food? He might've heated up a bowl of chicken noodle when Kate got sick but yea… it had been awhile.
"This just goes to show…" he said, standing to take her plate to the sink. She raised an eyebrow.
"Just goes to show what?" she asked, a teasing undertone to her voice.
"How much you mean to me," he said, leaning down to taste her lips.
She felt her heart start thumping wildly, and her mind begin to free fall. So now she meant a lot to him and he would've been ok with a baby. Where was this guy 6 months ago, she thought to herself.
"What?" Gibbs said, a confused look on his face.
"What?" Lizzy said, returning the look.
"You said…6months ago?"
Oh, shit. Did I say that out loud, she thought.
"Shit, did I say that out loud?" she said, grinning sheepishly.
Gibbs grinned back at her, walking over to help her up but she refused his willing and helpful hands and made it to the couch with little pain and even less trouble. She almost wondered what he was still doing here but she knew. She knew he was there for the inevitable. The inevitable that DiNozzo said existed; the inevitable that Ziva said didn't. And what was it she believed about the inevitable? Lizzy sank into the couch, loving the way it enveloped her. Money well spent, she thought. Gibbs sank down next to her and she scooted to be close to him. Whether the inevitable was coming or not, she needed to be near him. He reached for the remote but she smacked his hand. He reached for it again only to receive a smack on the hand and a punch in the arm. He relented with a sigh and turned slightly to face her, bringing a leg up to rest on the cushions, his sore arm draped across the back of the couch. He toyed with her hair that she had left down only because he had refused to help her put it up. He was nothing if not charming…
"Soooo…." he said lazily.
"Soooo…" she answered back.
"With a needle and a thread," he said, letting his hand drop to rub her shoulder, resisting the overwhelming urge to make her forget the impending conversation with some well placed kisses.
"Or a needle pulling thread…which would lead to note that follows So and then Ti which is a drink with jam and bread, which, of course, would ultimately lead you back to—"
"Lizzy."
"No. It leads you back to Do. The Sound of Music, Gibbs. Seriously."
"Lizzy…" he said, a little more sternly this time.
"Gibbs…" she said, matching his tone and deep voice, bringing a smile to his stony features.
"How… how do we…" he said struggling for the words. "How do we start this conversation?"
"Which conversation?"
This time he gave her the look.
He leaned back, crossed his arms and put his arm out, motioning her to continue.
"Well…"
"Is a very deep subject."
"You know how many comedians are out of work in this country, Gibbs?" He shook his head as she continued. "Thousands. Thousands of comedians are out of work in this country and you… YOU try to be funny."
He motioned his hand again.
"Well," she said pointedly. "There's the conversation about Rule 12… and the conversation about the warehouse… and the one about my Dear John letter… and the one about the baby…and-
"I get the picture," he said, cutting her off. He knew that everything she said was true. He knew that every single one of those conversations had to occur but wasn't there an easier way? A way to sum it up in one fell swoop? What if he used the 'L' word? It always worked before. But what was it that Tony had told him a few days after he had broken it off with Lizzy? 'If you always do what you've always done then you'll always get what you've always got'. The boy had hit the nail on the head. And those words had haunted him ever since. And so, even though he was a man of limited conversations and even fewer words, he took a deep breath, ready to have 'the conversations'.
A/N: So this chapter is a little longer, trying to make up for the gap between updates. I've been writing this story for months now and it has helped me get through some tough times, funny as that sounds. Writing is the simple pleasure that doesn't care if you're unemployed, or you husband has just been sent to prison, or that the walls are closing in. The reviews are what have pushed me to keep this story going, even when life had me up against a wall. 'The conversations' are up next. It's not an easy task writing about love when the love of your life is many, many miles away…