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Title: Simple Denial
Author: Ky (Venom_69)
Fandom: NCIS
Category: Smut, Holidays
Pairing: Kate/Gibbs
Rating:
Adult
Summary: He doesn’t do Christmas.
Archive: My site. Anywhere else, sure, just let me know where so
I can come visit.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, never will. Promise to put them back in the state I found them. Song’s
not mine either.
Author’s notes: Fic 5/5 of the “Official Lisa Yaeger Christmas Challenge 2005.” It occurred
to me that, given how often I use the word Denial in mocking, I should probably work it into a fic. And I did! I stole this
format from Jo, but I know she wont mind. :)
Date: 22/12/2005
Copyright © to Venom, 2005
***
And I know,
I know
Well it’s easy
Oh It's easy to deny
***
Ex-wife number 1 loved Christmas.
She would
go all out, and Gibbs often found himself wondering how the hell he’d ended up with a three-foot tree in his living
room and tinsel strewn across the ceiling. Lights would flash in all of the windows and his electricity bill would end up
high enough to cause a stroke. He would be forever finding bits of fallen tree in his carpet and he is too much of a man to
admit how much that would bother him. Or how many times he vacuumed. She would hire a caterer to bring their extravagant meal
in, to be shared with friends and family. Stocking were hung over his chimney and she insisted that he rise early in the mornign
to fill them.
Ex-wife number 2 was reasonably indifferent about Christmas.
She decorated the table, put a small
tree up on the mantle and there were very few bits of tinsel around. He was quite happy with that arrangement, largely because
the tree was false and she wasn’t anal about keeping everything perfect for ‘the big day.’ She would cook
a fantastically made meal to celebrate with close family member and friends. He had thought, at the time, that he had done
well in choosing a second wife. He had been very, very wrong. And he has the scars to prove it.
Ex-wife number 3 hated
anything to do with the festive holiday season.
She refused to put any form of tree up. There was no signs of any decorations
whatsoever and their Christmas meals were no different to any other day. While he’s not the biggest Christmas freak
around, he does manager to find something in it to celebrate.
Which, he thinks in reflections, explains why he spent
the Christmas before last with his divorce papers, a packet of cigarettes, a bottle of scotch and the painful knowledge that
‘third time lucky’ didn’t apply to him. No, for Jethro Gibbs, it was ‘three time strike out. ‘
Last
Christmas, he spent it fucking Caitlin Todd over her recently acquired desk.
Of the last four Christmases, he admits
that the one with Kate wins hands down. She was so new then, hadn’t been with the team for more than a month. He doesn’t
really know what possessed him to bend her over, push up her skirt and push into her –other than the fact that she’s
hot, naturally – but he can’t find it in himself to regret it.
He does regret how roughly he handled her.
She had walked strangely for days afterwards and when she bent over and her top had ridden up, he was able see the telltale
evidence of his handprints left in bruises on her hips. He’d come away with scratch marks down his back, too –
from the second time – but the pain that they had caused was minimal and well deserved, he thinks.
Pushing
into her brings him a strange sense of clarity and he knows, without a doubt, that he never wants to leave…
He
had been trying to see what she was made of – though not quite as literally as it had turned out – by asking her
to work Christmas Day.
Any good agent will tell you that criminals do not stop to celebrate like the rest of the world.
People are still murdered, children are still abducted and women are still raped. Any good agent will tell you that, if you
are an agent, you are on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, three hundred and sixty-five days a year. No exceptions.
While
he has never once doubted her intelligence or her capabilities, he has learnt the hard way that not everyone is cut out to
be a field agent. So he had spent the first month testing her – as he did with all newbies – by throwing all of
the various obstacles that people normally crumble under at her; Working Christmas day was a big one. Especially since he
knew that she was religious.
“I don’t think the Bible condones this kind of behavior from Catholics,
Katie.” And his hand comes down on her ass again.
Gasp. “I don’t think I care, Gibbs.”
She
had passed with flying colours, as he had predicted. And the fact that he fucked her – twice – doesn’t sway
his views on that. Despite how good a lay she was, he would never have kept her on the team if she couldn’t do the job.
Tight,
warm, wet, oh God oh God…
Well, he’s pretty sure that he wouldn’t have.
He is dying.
Surrounded by tight, pale flesh and buried up to his balls in Caitlin Todd, he knows that he is dying. If not his body, then
at the very least his soul is about to be ejaculated into her and he doesn’t want it back.
They never did
it again. Almost a year has passed since he was with her and it’s only now that he finds himself reminiscing –
on company time, no less.
She cries out loudly, her voice breaking on the tail end of a scream. Her muscle contract
around him and Gibbs can’t stop himself from thrusting into her one last time and emptying himself into her soft body.
When
it was over, they had simply pulled their clothes back on and straightened themselves up. He had left to go and bribe the
security monitor – which was far too easy given that they were a Government Department – and when he had returned,
she’d left. After that, nothing had been said. They had both, he thinks, been in their own form of denial about the
whole thing. Mutually, but silently, agreed upon that it would not be mentioned or repeated again.
He’d not treated
her any differently – though he admits he’d been waiting for a formal complaint – and she hadn’t acted
any differently. His dreams had been filled with the sound of her voice, the smell of her skin, but it never affected his
work and he doesn’t sleep that much anyway.
”Gibbs… God.”
He licks a line of sweat
from between her breasts and the salty moisture both burns and soothes his taste buds.
“Please!”
“Please
what, Katie?”
She can’t finish her thoughts.
He watches in fascination as the muscles in her stomach
clench while she comes. He wants to make her come again and his fingers move to where they are joined, finding her clit with
a new goal in mind.
Gibbs refuses to make her number 4, to add her Christmas habits – which, of the ones
he knows, he really really likes – to his list. He wont make her the fourth, but by God he wants her. It’s
not even the sex, there’s just something captivating about her that makes him want to roll over and play dead when she
is not around.
It’s only the sound of Tony’s voice that brings him out of his thoughts. Gibbs listens,
but he pretends to be reading the blurry report in front of him. Damnit, where are his glasses?
“Plans
for Christmas, Kate?”
“I’m working.”
Gibbs almost expects the other man to ask why,
but he knows that Tony is actually more interested in telling them about his own plans. “Oh. Wanna know what I’m
doing?”
“No.”
“Why are you working on Christmas Day? Didn’t you do last year?”
Tony is not as dumb as he acts, Gibbs will certainly give him that.
She still hasn’t looked up from whatever
it is that she’s typing and he’s impressed with her nonchalance. “Yes.”
“So, you’re
working because?”
“Gibbs needs me.”
And it’s just that simple.
***
End
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