Lesson V -- The Functions of Sleep
"Come on! Get in!" He calls to her from afar. He's at the shoreline, tinkering with his boat, getting it ready for voyage. It's an unusually sunny day, the perfect day for a morning sail. He's dressed casually in khaki shorts and an old green t-shirt. The visor he wore down in Mexico shades his eyes from the sun. Water from the sea washes up to greet his legs, the cold sensation leaving him strangely content.
"Coming!" She stands at the back of his car, black parasol in hand to keep her from melting. She sports a tight t-shirt that resembles in color to his but darker, and a crimson skirt. She's abandoned the four-inch platforms for a more water-friendly and sand-friendly pair of Converse shoes. She hurries over to where he stands waving to her. The sand beneath her feet creates a feeling she rarely experiences. "You got everything?"
"Yeah. Everything's ready." Holding out a hand, he guides her into the boat. He waits for her to take a seat before pushing into the water. With a force that can rival that of any twenty-something year old male, the boat sails off.
He jumps into the boat, grabbing an oar to row further away from the shore. Once he's satisfied with the distance, he turns his attention to the woman in front of him. She twirls the parasol with both hands, the shaft leaning against her shoulder. Her gaze is focused on the water to her side and then to the edge of the boat, a smile painted in wonderment. He wishes he had brought a camera.
"I never thought you'd finish this boat, Gibbs. I was so used to seeing that empty skeleton in your basement, I think I'm going to miss it." She caresses the rim of the boat with a free hand, and looks up to meet his eyes.
"It won't be long before you see another one, Abs," he confesses. The building of his boats has become a constant catharsis for him over the years, giving his hands something to do and his mind an outlet for escape, and he doubts he'd survive long without having one to work on. It also gives reason for his favorite lab bat to drop over and he's grateful for that.
She nods at his assurance and looks at the sights around her. Lots of water. Lots of sun. It's been a while since she's seen so much of either, let alone together. The silence of the lulling sea lures her mind into a stream of consciousness, but a minor rock of the boat jars her back to reality. "So now what?"
With a raised brow, he answers her question with another question. "What do you mean, 'now what?'"
"What've you got planned now? I mean, we just gonna sit here and stare at each other or what?" Actually, she's quite taken of the idea. The man before her is gorgeous and she certainly wouldn't mind just staring at him all day. Maybe he feels the same. The thought forces a tinge of blush on her cheeks and she tries to conceal it by innocently twirling the parasol.
Getting her meaning, yet narrowly missing the blush, he turns and reaches behind him. He pulls out a basket in one arm and a pair of fishing rods in the other. Gibbs is always prepared. "Food or fish. Take your pick."
Taking her time to consider both options, she concludes, "Too early for lunch. Fish it is."
She reaches for the extended rod and holds it blankly in her hand. She studies her situation and frowns.
"Something wrong?" He begins to apply the bait to the end of the hook. A man of tradition, he uses earthworms.
"Big problem." She stretches out both her arms to the side, hoping he'd see the trouble.
"A bit of sun is good for you, Abs. Ditch the parasol, for once. It won't kill you." For him, the solution is simple. For her, it's a matter life and death. Kind of.
"You know I can't do that, Gibbs! I've got sensitive skin! I'll crinkle like an old lady by the time we get back to shore! You wouldn't want that, now, would you?" She feigns hysterics. It's true her skin is sensitive, but the sun won't do much harm other than give her a nice mild tan. She just really likes that parasol.
"You as an old lady? Can't imagine it." She strikes him as the type who will remain forever young. It's the aspect he admires and cherishes most about her. When he is with her, it is always the present. She doesn't remind him of the past, and for that, he owes her. "Come on, Abs. For me?"
Goodness…puppy eyes. She never thought it was possible. The look numbs her expression with shock, and she hurls the parasol behind her. Forfeiting the rod as well, she gets up and throws herself at him. Her arms constrict around his neck and he shuts his eyes in surprise. The boat rocks at their sudden conjugation.
"I cannot believe you did that! Gibbs! Who knew you were such a softie!" Well, she's always known. But this is just too much. "Attach that look to a Caf-Pow, and I swear, you'll get your results in half the time!"
He laughs at her gaiety. Sometimes, even his own spontaneity surprises him. He stands up in an attempt to shake her off, the boat still rocking from before. "Come on, Abs. Save the hugs for--"
Before he knows it, the boat flips over in a single tilt. Even the boat cannot handle all their merriment.
"Abby! You alright?" He's an excellent swimmer and has no trouble staying above the water. His partner in crime, however, seems to be struggling, if only slightly.
"Gibbs! If you wanted me off so badly, all you needed to do was ask!" She gasps for air, arms flailing in the water. Taking a once-in-a-lifetime chance, she splashes him with water in revenge, sending a few light items from their picnic basket lunging toward him.
He ducks, but still receives the bulk of the wave, knocking the visor from his head. His turn. She giggles and he laughs. For minutes until they're out of breath, they proceed to wrestle within the water. A food fight in water. Another thing she never thought possible.
Hanging breathlessly on the overturned boat, they grin at one another. Damp silver bangs hang over his face, and she sees a side of him only two others have seen before. She must be a very lucky girl and she knows it.
An idea forms in her head and she grabs hold of his hand. She pulls him beneath the water and drags him to reemerge inside the upturned boat.
"Abby!" He exclaims the second his mouth leaves the water. He sees her eyes wandering within the reaches of the boat, and he follows her gaze, taking in the same sight with awe. The hull glows with the reflected light from the sea, radiating a bright but calm hue of blue across the wooden panels and onto their own faces.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" She asks, her eyes still roaming.
"Very," he answers, his eyes focused on her.
Turning her attention to him, she flaunts a lofty grin. His intent gaze on her doesn't go unnoticed. "There goes our lunch. I'm famished." From beneath the water, she reaches for his hand, lacing her fingers with his. She pulls forward, the slight force bringing them both together with ease. Leaning in to kiss his cheek, she suggests in his ear, "Say we go back?"
Seeing a twinkle in her eyes, he eagerly nods and together they flip the boat over. He rows them toward shore and they are both quiet. The sun shines freely over her face and the sight shapes a smiles across his lips. Only minutes before, when they had been under the boat, he had seen something that stunned him--the beauty beneath the dark rouge.
He loads the boat to the back of his vehicle and drives home in no apparent rush. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his soaking clothes making him a just a tad bit uneasy. He turns to check on her, seeing an arm propped against the window sill, and her cheek lying flat against her palm. She seems to be asleep, but a small bump on the road jolts her back to consciousness. She stays awake for the rest of the short trip, staring blankly through the window and at passing sights.
They arrive at his house and she promptly moves to his bedroom to change out of her wet clothes. She blindly grabs a shirt and pair of shorts from his drawer, and shuts herself in his adjoining bathroom. He comes up a moment later and changes publically at the foot of his bed.
Done, she cautiously pulls open the door, for whatever reason she hopes to discover. Prodding her head through the narrow space between the door and its frame, she steals a peep at her gracious host. A shirt coming over his head leaves his torso in full view, and her prying eyes find focus on the elaborate outline of his abdominals. She giggles and pulls herself from his sight when she realizes she's been caught.
Waiting a second or two before making her way out of the bathroom, and to regain her composure, she greets him with a fresh smile, ignoring the threat of his stare. Pulling him into a brief hug, she thanks him. Whether for the sailing trip or for the glance at his physique, he can only guess. She brings a hand up to tussle his still damp hair, and then drags him out of the room.
Back downstairs, he offers to make lunch, opening the doors to his refridgerator. Feeling guilty to have ruined their first meal, she volunteers to help and lunges herself at the contents in his fridge.
A turkey and ham sandwich and a glass of orange juice for each, they finish within minutes and meet up in the living room. She walks ahead of him and falls face first onto his couch, the length of her body matching the length of the sofa.
"The food coma is setting in…," she mutters into the soft fabric.
"Tired?" He lifts her legs to make room for himself. Sitting, he sets them back over his lap and lets his head fall over the back of the sofa.
"Only probies state the obvious, Gibbs." She makes a lazy effort to lift an arm and point at him. "And don't pretend you're not tired, either."
"You know me so well." He gives her a bored slap on the calf, and she moans in annoyance. She flips over on her back and huffs.
"Gibbs, I thought you said you packed everything."
He closes his eyes to rest, though he continues the conversation. "I did."
"Clothes. You should have brought extra." She crosses her arms over her chest.
"Wasn't counting on taking a swim, Abs."
"Ah! 'Wasn't counting on.' Means the thought did cross your mind, though."
"Maybe." She heels him in the thigh and he winces at the stiff contact. "Yikes, Abs."
She props her head up on the armrest and takes a peek at him, squinting a peculiar expression on her face.
His head still inclining on the backrest, he turns to match her look with one of his own. "What now?"
"I'm trying to imagine you with that face. From before, I mean. Can't see it, even if I squint. Damn." With a masterful pout, she sinks further into the cushy fabric of the couch.
"Once in a lifetime thing, Abs. Be glad you saw it at all." The expression of a lifetime, a still of the present. For what it's worth, it's his gift to her, for the timelessness she brings to him. And the beauty. It's the least he could possibly do.
Stifling a yawn, she adds, "'Course I'm glad. I just hope I never forget it. But I'm not saying that it'd be easy to forget, 'cause nothing about you is easy to forget. It's just that I would never want to forget if it ever happens, ya know? Never, ever, gonna forget it…" Another yawn, rather than Gibbs, cuts her incoherent ramble short.
"Abby. Sleep." Short and to the point, he commands her with an unusually weary voice.
"Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am. On it, ma'am," she mumbles, a hand bucking off her forehead in a feeble salute. Her eyes begin to flutter close, though not before seeing his eyes do the same. "See you in my dreams, my silver-haired fox. Better bring that face with you, too."
"See you, Abs."
A/N: It's teasingly fluffy, almost unrealistically so, and a bit OCC at parts, I think, so may I offer my apologies.
Also, I don't think I covered the topic as much as I would have liked, but I hope you've enjoyed it, nevertheless.
The Functions of Sleep:
Memory Processing - Both declarative (factual) memory and procedural (skills) memory are shown to be affected by sleep. All in all, normal sleep helps one to remember better. (After such an unforgettable trip, both Gibbs and Abby are going to need a lot of sleep.)
Restoration - Sleep helps preserve and restore an organism's energy. It also affects the processes of wound healing, the efficiency of the immune system, and metabolic function.
For more on the functions of sleep (and there are actually more), you know where to look.
Next: Lesson VI -- Insomnia.