Returning (Chapter 5)
Title: Returning (Chapter 5)
Author: Purerose
Fandom: NCIS
Prompt: 018 Beach
Character/Pairing: Kate/Gibbs
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1154
Summary: Kate needs to get away for a while.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: I don't own any of this... I should have the second series on DVD in three to five working days though... don't think that counts for anything. Also, this is AU, post-Twilight, set some time after series 4 (I think).
[ Chapter 1] [ Chapter 2] [ Chapter 3] [ Chapter 4]
For the first time in two years you actually feel glad that you ‘died’ back in Washington. Saying goodbye to Gibbs the next day is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. Elizabeth and Bridget remain unusually quiet as you wave him off on the porch, then, when you’ve deposited the girls in their play pen you stand by the sink in the kitchen and sob. They might still be babies but you don’t want the girls to see you cry. In the next room you hear a steady chorus of “Mum mum mum mum” but you can’t face them, not until you’ve washed your face and eliminated all trace of tears.
But you can’t wallow in self-pity, you won’t let yourself, you don’t have the time to.
You suddenly feel trapped in the house. Like you can’t breathe. Just sitting on the couch reminds you of leaning against Gibbs, closing your eyes and falling asleep with his scent surrounding you.
What you need right now is activity, you need to get out and do something. Anything.
It takes you almost an hour to bundle up the girls, despite being summer the weather could be warmer and with Elizabeth’s cold you’re not taking any chances. Rebel watches you with his head tilted slightly, he’s hoping that he’ll be invited on this outing but knows that you’ll tell him off if he bounds around under your feet.
You’re not even sure where you’re planning to go. You consider walking, but that won’t get you far enough from the house. As you fish in the bowl by the door for your car keys you notice Rebel staring hard at the door to the cupboard under the stairs. Normally you would leave him behind but he looks so hopeful that you feel guilty about leaving him alone.
“Okay Rebel. You can come.” You sigh, adjusting Bridget on your hip. Immediately he starts bouncing up and down on his forepaws, coming dangerously close to Elizabeth who looks in danger of being trodden on. “Rebel! Sit!” You command. If dogs could frown Rebel would be frowning now. His rump hits the floor quickly and you mutter “good boy” as you move to the cupboard to retrive his leash.
You hand the dog his leash and he takes the handle between his teeth, his whole body quivers with excitement at being taken out for a treat. Calling him after you, you take the girls out to the car, strap them into their car seats and set Rebel in the back beside the girls stroller. The minute he’s in the car he drops his leash and starts grumbling to tell you to hurry up.
You drive aimlessly, listening to the girls babbling together, the dog whining and the mindless drivel on the radio; some woman wants to leave her husband because she feels bored.
Twenty minutes later you stop the car, you found this place about two weeks after you arrived here. You needed some quiet time and found this windy little beach. There is very little sand, a lot of shingle and many, many pebbles. You’ve imagined bringing the girls here to climb on the rocks and search the pools as you once did with your brothers and sister. Will they ever come here if you move back to Washington?
You struggle with the double stroller for a couple of minutes, finally strap the girls in and hook your wrist through the dog’s leash. For about the hundredth time you ponder whether it would be possible to attach Rebel to the stroller so that he can do all the hard work as you walk along the sea front. The dog in question is trotting along happily at your side, occasionally snapping at a stick or staring out to sea at a gull or some other mystery creature.
As you follow your dog’s gaze away in the distance you spot a boat, not a big ship, a sail boat. You feel a pang in your chest as you think about another boat, many miles away and it’s owner.
“Look girls.” You say, turning the stroller and pointing in the direction of the boat. “See the boat.”
Bridget looks at you but Elizabeth seems to follow your finger and stretches out her own finger to mimic you. “Boat.” Elizabeth says confidently.
“Lally.” Bridget tells her sister. “Lally boat.”
“No honey.” You tell her. “Larry doesn’t have a boat.” A thought seizes you. “Daddy has a boat.” Both girls look at you; Elizabeth’s mouth is in a wide ‘O’, Bridget wears a cheeky grin. “You’ll see it soon.” Rebel is pulling on his leash so you rise and turn the stroller once more.
“Lally boat.” Bridget says once more, with feeling, as you walk back towards the car.
You just strapped the girls into the car and Rebel is watering a nearby bush when your cell phone begins to ring. It takes to a moment to catch where the sound is coming from, you use the thing so rarely here.
You’re expecting it to be Larry but when the display reveals an unknown number you debate not answering. Luckily you do.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me. I just got back. How’re my girls?” Your heart flutters, then falls, you doubt that you’re included in that statement.
“They’re fine. We’re all fine. We’ve just been to the beach.” You wave at Rebel to catch his attention and he trots towards you. “In.” You hiss at him, pointing at the car, he obliges and squeezes in next to the stroller. You wander round to the front of the car and sit side on, feet on the concrete, body in the car.
“Mmm hmm.” He replies. You wonder if there’s anything else he wanted to say or if this was just him checking in.
“Lally boat!” Comes a voice from over your shoulder.
“What was that?” Gibbs asks with a laugh.
“Boat.” Adds Elizabeth, joining in with her sister.
“We saw a boat. Bridget thinks it’s yours… or Larry’s… I’m not sure which.”
Gibbs laughs. You can picture him smiling, the creases around his eyes, that looks that appeared on his face each time one of the girls said or did anything amusing last night. “I should go, I’ve got some things to sort out here.” He tells you. You can still hear a trace of a laugh in his voice.
You hesitate. “Can I… Can I call you tonight?” You close your eyes and raise a hand to your forehead, if he says no does it mean he’s got a date?
He doesn’t pause. “Sure. Say seven? Or would you -”
“Seven is fine.”
Whether it is the trip out of the house, sharing something with your daughters, speaking to Gibbs or a combination of all three, you are in far brighter spirits when you return home, serenaded the whole way back by your daughters’ happy giggles.
Author: Purerose
Fandom: NCIS
Prompt: 018 Beach
Character/Pairing: Kate/Gibbs
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1154
Summary: Kate needs to get away for a while.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: I don't own any of this... I should have the second series on DVD in three to five working days though... don't think that counts for anything. Also, this is AU, post-Twilight, set some time after series 4 (I think).
[ Chapter 1] [ Chapter 2] [ Chapter 3] [ Chapter 4]
For the first time in two years you actually feel glad that you ‘died’ back in Washington. Saying goodbye to Gibbs the next day is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. Elizabeth and Bridget remain unusually quiet as you wave him off on the porch, then, when you’ve deposited the girls in their play pen you stand by the sink in the kitchen and sob. They might still be babies but you don’t want the girls to see you cry. In the next room you hear a steady chorus of “Mum mum mum mum” but you can’t face them, not until you’ve washed your face and eliminated all trace of tears.
But you can’t wallow in self-pity, you won’t let yourself, you don’t have the time to.
You suddenly feel trapped in the house. Like you can’t breathe. Just sitting on the couch reminds you of leaning against Gibbs, closing your eyes and falling asleep with his scent surrounding you.
What you need right now is activity, you need to get out and do something. Anything.
It takes you almost an hour to bundle up the girls, despite being summer the weather could be warmer and with Elizabeth’s cold you’re not taking any chances. Rebel watches you with his head tilted slightly, he’s hoping that he’ll be invited on this outing but knows that you’ll tell him off if he bounds around under your feet.
You’re not even sure where you’re planning to go. You consider walking, but that won’t get you far enough from the house. As you fish in the bowl by the door for your car keys you notice Rebel staring hard at the door to the cupboard under the stairs. Normally you would leave him behind but he looks so hopeful that you feel guilty about leaving him alone.
“Okay Rebel. You can come.” You sigh, adjusting Bridget on your hip. Immediately he starts bouncing up and down on his forepaws, coming dangerously close to Elizabeth who looks in danger of being trodden on. “Rebel! Sit!” You command. If dogs could frown Rebel would be frowning now. His rump hits the floor quickly and you mutter “good boy” as you move to the cupboard to retrive his leash.
You hand the dog his leash and he takes the handle between his teeth, his whole body quivers with excitement at being taken out for a treat. Calling him after you, you take the girls out to the car, strap them into their car seats and set Rebel in the back beside the girls stroller. The minute he’s in the car he drops his leash and starts grumbling to tell you to hurry up.
You drive aimlessly, listening to the girls babbling together, the dog whining and the mindless drivel on the radio; some woman wants to leave her husband because she feels bored.
Twenty minutes later you stop the car, you found this place about two weeks after you arrived here. You needed some quiet time and found this windy little beach. There is very little sand, a lot of shingle and many, many pebbles. You’ve imagined bringing the girls here to climb on the rocks and search the pools as you once did with your brothers and sister. Will they ever come here if you move back to Washington?
You struggle with the double stroller for a couple of minutes, finally strap the girls in and hook your wrist through the dog’s leash. For about the hundredth time you ponder whether it would be possible to attach Rebel to the stroller so that he can do all the hard work as you walk along the sea front. The dog in question is trotting along happily at your side, occasionally snapping at a stick or staring out to sea at a gull or some other mystery creature.
As you follow your dog’s gaze away in the distance you spot a boat, not a big ship, a sail boat. You feel a pang in your chest as you think about another boat, many miles away and it’s owner.
“Look girls.” You say, turning the stroller and pointing in the direction of the boat. “See the boat.”
Bridget looks at you but Elizabeth seems to follow your finger and stretches out her own finger to mimic you. “Boat.” Elizabeth says confidently.
“Lally.” Bridget tells her sister. “Lally boat.”
“No honey.” You tell her. “Larry doesn’t have a boat.” A thought seizes you. “Daddy has a boat.” Both girls look at you; Elizabeth’s mouth is in a wide ‘O’, Bridget wears a cheeky grin. “You’ll see it soon.” Rebel is pulling on his leash so you rise and turn the stroller once more.
“Lally boat.” Bridget says once more, with feeling, as you walk back towards the car.
You just strapped the girls into the car and Rebel is watering a nearby bush when your cell phone begins to ring. It takes to a moment to catch where the sound is coming from, you use the thing so rarely here.
You’re expecting it to be Larry but when the display reveals an unknown number you debate not answering. Luckily you do.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me. I just got back. How’re my girls?” Your heart flutters, then falls, you doubt that you’re included in that statement.
“They’re fine. We’re all fine. We’ve just been to the beach.” You wave at Rebel to catch his attention and he trots towards you. “In.” You hiss at him, pointing at the car, he obliges and squeezes in next to the stroller. You wander round to the front of the car and sit side on, feet on the concrete, body in the car.
“Mmm hmm.” He replies. You wonder if there’s anything else he wanted to say or if this was just him checking in.
“Lally boat!” Comes a voice from over your shoulder.
“What was that?” Gibbs asks with a laugh.
“Boat.” Adds Elizabeth, joining in with her sister.
“We saw a boat. Bridget thinks it’s yours… or Larry’s… I’m not sure which.”
Gibbs laughs. You can picture him smiling, the creases around his eyes, that looks that appeared on his face each time one of the girls said or did anything amusing last night. “I should go, I’ve got some things to sort out here.” He tells you. You can still hear a trace of a laugh in his voice.
You hesitate. “Can I… Can I call you tonight?” You close your eyes and raise a hand to your forehead, if he says no does it mean he’s got a date?
He doesn’t pause. “Sure. Say seven? Or would you -”
“Seven is fine.”
Whether it is the trip out of the house, sharing something with your daughters, speaking to Gibbs or a combination of all three, you are in far brighter spirits when you return home, serenaded the whole way back by your daughters’ happy giggles.