"McGee!" Abby's voice pulled him from his thoughts an hour later as she marched into the bullpen. "What do you mean 'grounded'?"
"Just like it sounds Abbs," Tim answered morosely. "Today is not my day."
Abby put her hands on her hips. "I'm going to have a talk with Gibbs."
Tony looked up. "He's in MTAC Abby. I wouldn't go up there right now if you want to keep your job."
She crossed her arms. "Is everybody grumpy today? I heard from Lenny the janitor who got it from one of the mail girls that Cynthia thinks something is wrong with the director too. So much for all the fun we had last night."
"Hey Abby," McGee lowered his voice and leaned towards her. "What about my invitation?"
She glanced at Tony and Ziva to see if they were paying attention, but their focus was elsewhere. "I'd love to," she whispered. "Meet me in the lab after work? I'll wait for you."
"If Gibbs lets me leave my chair," he answered, wondering how long Gibbs would make him stay there.
"Abby!" Ziva hissed. "Gibbs on deck."
"Thanks." She waved goodbye to them and in a flash of white lab coat and black ponytails, she was gone.
The phone rang just as Gibbs made it to his desk. "Yeah, Gibbs."
He listened for a few minutes, said 'yup' and 'yeah', 'okay' and 'I know the place' and then hung up. He ripped a piece of paper off his notepad and waved it at the team. "Gear up! We've been tapped with a four hour shift for surveillance of a sleeper cell. Just spelling off the main team. Let's go!"
"Uh, Boss?" McGee risked asking, though he hadn't yet moved.
Gibbs looked back and motioned for him to follow. "Yeah, you too McGee. Get the truck."
McGee grinned. He may not be forgiven yet, but at least he was allowed to move.
NCIS
Four and a half hours later, Gibbs slogged wearily down the steps to his basement, flipping on work lights here and there to make sure he didn't trip over anything. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and dropped it on the couch. Looking longingly at the bottle of bourbon high up on the shelves above his workbench, Gibbs shook his head. He had things to do tonight, it wouldn't do to get drunk. Even if it had been a heck of a day.
The team's surveillance shift had gone well. They'd watched the men stop for coffee, buy groceries, swing by the dry cleaners to pick up their clothes, flirt with the local ladies, and finally followed them back to the rented house they shared before the regular team came back to let them off duty. Gibbs had sent everyone home after that. The week was shaping up to be pretty quiet for cases, reports could be done tomorrow. And if they got busy, there was always the next dry spell with which to catch up.
Gibbs grabbed a piece of wood that was lying on the floor along the back wall and set it down on the two sawhorses he kept by the workbench. With his knee lightly resting on the top of the wood to help steady it, Gibbs picked up his pull saw and began methodically cutting through the wood. It didn't take long, he was used to the work. When the wood was the correct length, a file from the drawer under his workbench helped to smooth out the rough edges and ends. He fitted the cut piece into place along the hull of his boat, using a mallet to whack it in line with the board above it.
He did this several times, until another section of his boat was well on it's way to being complete. Moving back to the brace and bit he'd used last week - had it really been that long ago? - Gibbs began making holes for the dowel pins to fit in. Later, he wasn't really sure how much time had passed, he heard the creak of the door upstairs as it closed. He drove the last pin into it's hole and turned back to his workbench, fitting a new piece of rough paper on the sanding block.
Jenny's high heels tapped across the floor, and he saw the triangle of light shining in the basement door from the hallway grow as she pushed it open.
"Hey," she said softly, "I'm home."
Gibbs nodded. "Hey Jen."
She stood at the top of the stairs, poised to come down to him. They'd often made up from disagreements by working on his boat together, the silence and labour cathartic enough to relieve the tension between them.
He looked up briefly. "Why don't you get some coffee and read your book or watch a movie or something?" the suggestion surprised Jenny and she felt a sharp pang of hurt that he didn't want her around. "I'll be awhile down here still."
Almost afraid to ask, because she wouldn't know what to do if he said no, she inquired, "Will you be coming to bed?"
Gibbs' eyes met his wife's troubled expression. "Sure. I'll be up before long."
"Okay," she replied. "I'm going to go change."
He watched her walk away, listened to her footsteps up the stairs. It wasn't that he didn't want his wife's company, but tonight he couldn't have her in the basement helping. This was his time to try and work out his frustration and hurt, just like Jenny had in the gym this morning. Gibbs was much better at keeping his feelings to himself, but he was afraid the intensity of what he was struggling with might scare his wife if he said anything. Tonight, the boat was something he had to do by himself.
Gibbs walked back over to his boat, assessing whether his therapy had worked or not. Two rings of sweat bordered the collar of his shirt, one in front and one behind. His skin was sticky and a little itchy where sawdust had settled on his damp arms and neck. He wasn't breathing hard, but his muscles were entering the fatigue phase, a good tired that meant he had been working hard. He rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead, scraping away the perspiration there. Setting the sanding block on the newest section of boat, Gibbs began moving it in the familiar back and forth movement that had soothed his soul on so many other occasions.
NCIS
Abby arched an eyebrow at McGee while he stirred the vegetables simmering in the frying pan. "When you said dinner McGee, I didn't know you were actually going to cook."
"Hey!" Tim protested. "I will have you know that I'm a very capable cook. I was a scout remember? Cooking was mandatory."
"We're not talking dried rations, roots and tree bark Timmy, we're talking about an actual meal with edible food."
"You do remember that Sarah lived with me before she started university, right? I had to learn to cook and do it well." He grimaced. "Little sisters are very picky about quality."
Abby snatched a green bean off the cutting board, crunching it between her teeth. "I'm impressed."
McGee adjusted the heat on the stove, checked the chicken and added a little more saute sauce to the vegetables in a few deft movements. "I aim to please."
Hopping up on the other side of the counter, Abby leaned forward and swung her legs. "How come you never cooked me dinner before?"
McGee took some time to think about that one. Finally he got it. "Because best friends share takeout Abbs. Making a meal is something special. It can be intimate and romantic and you want to do it with someone you love."
Abby's movements stilled. "Do you love me Timmy?"
He flipped all the burners off, shuffling frying pans so nothing sat somewhere hot, before turning to face her. "Didn't you know Abbs?" he said slowly. "I've loved you forever."
"Forever forever?" she asked, eyes wide.
"Forever as long as I've known you," Tim replied, wondering how she'd take the revelation.
Abby absorbed McGee's confession slowly. In some ways she guessed she'd always known that about him. There hadn't been very many special girls for Timmy after they broke up, and even when he found one, they never lasted long. She had always been glad when he was single again. For some reason she'd always thought of Tim as hers, even though she'd been the one who had said no the first time he wanted to get serious.
McGee wasn't sure how to interpret the look on his girlfriend's face. "You don't have to say it back Abby. I don't want you to feel any pressure. Just having you here is enough for me."
Abby didn't plan on teasing McGee and she certainly wasn't going to say something she wasn't one hundred percent sure she knew in her heart was true. She was awfully close to meaning those three big words and when she was ready, Tim would be the first to know.
"What would you do if I said them back Timmy?"
McGee's body stilled and he tried to calm his speeding heart. "I don't know if I should tell. I might scare you off."
"Scare? Me?" Abby asked, laughing. She shoved his shoulder. "I don't scare easily mister."
"No, I guess you don't. But this is different," McGee insisted. "You're such a spontaneous person Abby and I love that about you, I really do. But I'm more of the careful, planning ahead, let's make sure everything is going to work out type. One day at a time people usually get scared off by my approach to life."
Abby understood that whatever came next was something he'd really thought about and it was going to be serious. "You're stuck with me now Timmy, I don't think you could scare me away if you tried." She waited a beat and then asked the question again. "What would you do if I said it?"
He took her hands and held them gently in his. Looking into her eyes, he drank in the sight of her, loving everything about this woman. "If you said it Abby, I would probably start planning forever." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips before turning back to the food. "Supper is served."
Abby wasn't so sure she cared about supper anymore. She was more interested in the taste of dessert McGee had given her and wondering how on earth she deserved a guy who loved her and cared as much as her boyfriend did.
NCIS
An hour later, Gibbs made his way up the stairs, carrying his jacket and smoothing out the crumpled piece of paper in his hand. He'd frowned when he first heard a noise in his pocket, he didn't normally keep things there. Jenny had complained too many times about things that turned up in the wash, so he'd stopped. It took him a minute before he recognized it and what he'd found made him want to go see his wife.
Before he looked for her in the livingroom, Gibbs stopped by the laundry room and snagged a clean shirt. He didn't want to be a total mess when he sat down to talk with her. In the livingroom doorway, he paused, enjoying the peaceful picture of Jenny, curled up and reading a book, a cup of tea in one hand. She looked up and saw him.
"How's the boat?" she asked.
"Served it's purpose for tonight," he responded, hoping she would understand now why he hadn't invited her down.
She laid the book on the side table and looked at him, waiting for him to speak. She must have been able to see it in his eyes, that something was going on.
"What's this Jen?" he asked, holding out the piece of paper to her.
Jenny leaned forward and took the wrinkled paper, glancing over the scrawled words. "I wondered what happened to this," she commented, setting it in her lap.
"Found it in the kitchen," he felt compelled to say. "Why did you write it down?"
She considered the question. "I remember now. It was last week, when you worked late and I made supper. I was going to write them out in good later, but then I noticed the paper missing a couple of days after." She shrugged.
"Did they have special meaning for you?" he asked. Kind of out of the ordinary for him as a question, but he wanted to know why she felt the words important enough to write down.
"I liked the sound of the song," she finally said. "The words to the chorus, felt like my life somehow, like it reflected us. I figured you would understand when you read them."
Gibbs nodded. "I felt the same way." He held out his hand for the paper again, reading out the lines out loud. "Lead me with strong hands, stand up, when I can't. Don't leave me, hungry for love, Chasing dreams, but what about us? Show me, you're willing to fight, That I'm still the love of your life. I know we call this our home But I still feel alone."
"It fits both of us, don't you think?" Jenny said, after silence had settled.
He had to agree with her. Tapping the paper against his hand, he wondered again about the meaning behind the words. "Does this tell me how to help you?"
Jenny played with a strand of hair. "The first part and the last part do. You've always been the leader in our relationship Jethro, the strength that kept me going. And sometimes, a woman likes to know that her husband will fight for her, if need be." She gazed into his eyes. "The middle part is about you. I feel like that's where I've left you, both in our past and right now, in our present."
"And the last bit, about feeling alone?" he ventured.
"That's both of us," Jenny said. "I know you feel alone when I won't let you in, when I won't talk to you. And I feel alone because you really don't understand what this is like for me, and keep trying to help or fix it." She reached over and laid her hand on top of his. "Not everything can be fixed by your hand tools Jethro. And some things can't be fixed by your hands either."
"So what am I supposed to do? How do we both keep from feeling alone?"
"I honestly don't know," Jenny shook her head back and forth slowly. "Maybe we only worry about right now. Because this morning was awful and this afternoon was distant but right now is nothing yet."
"What would you like it to be?" Gibbs asked, listening hard.
Jenny brushed some damp hair off his forehead and crinkled her nose a little. "After you take a show," she chuckled, "I think it'd be really nice if you held me while we fall asleep." Her eyes bored into his as she moved closer. "Do you think you can keep the monsters away?"
Gibbs leaned forward, in no hurry. When she didn't shy away, his lips brushed against hers. "Oh Jen, I'll sure try." He wrapped his arms around her for a quick hug and then left for the bathroom to have his shower. Maybe for once they'd both get a good sleep, because they'd be right where they belonged.