Returning (Chapter 13)
Title: Returning (Chapter 13)
Author: Purerose
Fandom: NCIS
Prompt: 015 Storm
Character/Pairing: Kate/Gibbs
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1576
Summary: Kate considers her daughters..
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: NCIS not mine. Just borrowing the characters... they'll be in more or less the same state when I return them.
Thanks again for the comments. I was hoping to get this chapter up on Monday, but I ran out of time to type it up, just as well really because I made a whole host of changes to it. Hopefully you guys'll like it.
[ Chapter 1] [ Chapter 2] [ Chapter 3] [ Chapter 4] [ Chapter 5] [ Chapter 6] [ Chapter 7] [ Chapter 8] [ Chapter 9] [ Chapter 10] [ Chapter 11] [ Chapter 12]
Your girls have been complete opposites since day one. Before day one in fact, Twin B, that was Bridget, was always far more active than her sister. She was the one under your ribcage, simultaneously squeezing your bladder and your diaphragm.
Elizabeth was mellow. The first time you saw her properly on a scan she was sucking her thumb. While her sister kicked lumps out of you, Elizabeth was never so violent. On the other hand, when she was born she screamed the loudest.
The oldest of the pair, Elizabeth enjoys her comfort. You’ve always called her ‘the little princess’. She likes familiar people, places and activities. In contrast, Bridget is a dare devil. Her biggest goal in life was to learn to crawl which she achieved almost three weeks ahead of her older sister. Elizabeth watched, maybe she was jealous but she didn’t make any extra effort to learn. Everything in her own time. She knew that she could get what she wanted simply by crying out for you and that took a lot less effort on her part.
Bridget took longer to learn how to walk. When Elizabeth took her time learning to crawl you had been worried, by the time that it came to walking you were well aware of how different your little girls were. They took everything at their own pace. You supposed that Bridget had decided that she could move much faster on all fours and so had no reason to slow down and start walking. Elizabeth, though shy, loved the attention that being the first to walk brought.
Elizabeth has always been the thinker. When faced with a puzzle she likes to study it, consider her options and then act. Bridget will storm in, not worried about how sticky, messy or how much trouble it will cause.
Watching them growing it has always fascinated you to see how two children, raised in the same situation but the same person can turn out so completely different. You see yourself in both your girls, in different ways of course; Bridget looks most like you - as your Mom was quick to point out, Elizabeth shares your artistic streak - she helpfully attempted to decorate the kitchen wall with crayons shortly after moving back to Virginia.
And of course, when considering your children you can’t forget your other baby; Rebel. Just like your job at the library he was supposed to be temporary, you were just watching him until someone else came along. While you were on maternity leave you had the time to watch a young dog. Then, when a new home did come along, you made your excuses and kept him. In truth you felt safer having him around.
You were worried about Rebel getting possessive or jealous once the babies were born. You needn’t have worried. He was brilliant. If, when you were in bed asleep, you didn’t get up immediately when one of the girls began to wail, he would place both paws on your chest and whine. When they were in their cribs or playpen Rebel would curl protectively beside them. At feeding times he would stick close by when they were fed - no doubt hoping for scraps.
You’ve often said that Rebel is part dog, part chicken. He enjoys all the traditional canine pursuits; playing fetch, taking long walks, going for car drives with his head hanging out of the window. But he’s also easily spooked; he hated the sound of the microwave, feet moving under blankets and seeing pigs on the TV.
Oddly, given his ‘fraidy-cat tendencies, he loves storms. In his eyes they are entertainment displays put on soley for his benefit. Rebel usually joins in with the rumbles and cracks outside; he growls along with the thunder and barks with the lightning. His antics during storms would be hilarious, if it weren’t for the fact that you usually spend the duration of any good rainstorm trying to comfort two scared children.
Despite being totally different in many respects, that is one phobia that the girls have always shared. Storms. From the moment that they hear the first rumble of thunder a look a fear appears on their faces and within seconds the tears begin.
Worse than the storms which are forecast on weather reports are the ones that sneak up on you. Like the one that hit when Gibbs had been in hospital for three days and the weather became unexpectedly hot and humid. Great gray clouds filled the sky and there were regular downpours of heavy rain.
After a day spend trying to distract the girls from the inevitable with Winnie the Pooh on DVD and all sorts of noisy toys. You decided to pay a visit to the hospital in the early evening. According to the nurses Gibbs had been tetchy all day. One of the younger women suggested that it was the weather to blame, riling everyone up, but you knew that three days in one spot was too much for Gibbs. Being told that he wasn’t allowed to go to work was one thing, not being allowed to work on his boat was another, but being told that he wasn’t allowed to see his daughters was guaranteed to put him a foul mood.
“Maybe I could take Bridget and Elizabeth to see their Dad?” You ask, knowing that everyone would benefit; the girls would be happy - making you happy, and Gibbs would be happy… happier - making the nurses happy.
The nurses don’t look too sure about this suggestion, the rule on the ward is that children don’t go any further than the nurses desk. Fortunately Dr. Albright choses that moment to make an appearance.
She gives you a gracious smile. “I think we can bend the rules, just this once.” She says, stepping out of your way to let you by with the stroller. “It’ll probably cheer him up a little.” You know from that comment that the nurses probably aren’t the only ones that Gibbs has pissed off today.
The rain is really hammering down outside and as you enter Gibbs room you are certain that you see a tell-tale flash of lightning in the distance. He is studying the weather from his bed when you enter the room, he doesn’t look round until Elizabeth yells “Daddy!”
When he turns around he is smiling. You know it’s because you’ve brought his daughters to visit, they are the two people that he misses the most right now, though a little part of you hopes that the smile is intended for you as well.
As you move closer Gibbs scoots up the bed to make room for his little girls. He looks so much brighter with them here. A low rumble tells you that the storm is moving closer, you hope that the girls don’t create a scene, it’s hardly the way to convince the nurses that they should be allowed to visit their father.
Gibbs catches you staring nervously out the window. “Scared of the storm?” He asks. He knows you’re not, you’ve worked through storms plenty of times before. He’s got that smirk on his face, after having a bad day his mood is now improving.
“I’m not. They are.” You jab a finger in the direction of your daughters. The thunder is getting louder, the lightning closer. A few more seconds and you’ll have a full-scale crying fit on your hands. In stereo.
Gibbs raises an eyebrow at the little girls in his lap. “Really?” He asks. Bridget tries to play with an IV while Elizabeth sits sedately on her father’s knee.
“Trust me. Once they realise what’s going on outside all hell will break loose.” Even as you say it you realise it’s probably not going to happen. The girls don’t care a bit about what the weather outside is doing. You plough on anyway. “On their first birthday we had a massive lightning storm, they screamed the whole way through it. They get really frightened by storms.”
Gibbs face falls a little and you know it has nothing to do with the weather outside. It’s because you mentioned their first birthday, not only was he unable to attend the party, at the time he didn’t know that there was anything to be celebrated. For a moment you are worried that you have upset him, you’re always conscious of reminding him of how much of the girls lives he has missed out on. However Gibbs watches Elizabeth as she moves around trying to get more comfortable, and you see that he’s smiling a little again.
A bright flash illuminates the room for a moment followed suddenly by a loud rumble. You look to your daughters for their reaction. Elizabeth has her eyes closed, comfortable in her Dad’s arms. Bridget raises herself unsteadily, holding onto Gibbs for support. She stares in the direction of the winow and says “ahh.”
Half an hour later a full scale gale is raging outside. Inside Elizabeth is curled on Gibbs’ pillow, completely oblivious to the storm. Gibbs sits beside her with Bridget standing on his lap. They watch the storm the way that you watch firework displays on the fourth of July.
All you can think of as you perch on the end of the bed watching Gibbs and the girls is that there is no other place you would rather be, and you hope that Rebel doesn’t annoy the neighbours too much.
Author: Purerose
Fandom: NCIS
Prompt: 015 Storm
Character/Pairing: Kate/Gibbs
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1576
Summary: Kate considers her daughters..
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: NCIS not mine. Just borrowing the characters... they'll be in more or less the same state when I return them.
Thanks again for the comments. I was hoping to get this chapter up on Monday, but I ran out of time to type it up, just as well really because I made a whole host of changes to it. Hopefully you guys'll like it.
[ Chapter 1] [ Chapter 2] [ Chapter 3] [ Chapter 4] [ Chapter 5] [ Chapter 6] [ Chapter 7] [ Chapter 8] [ Chapter 9] [ Chapter 10] [ Chapter 11] [ Chapter 12]
Your girls have been complete opposites since day one. Before day one in fact, Twin B, that was Bridget, was always far more active than her sister. She was the one under your ribcage, simultaneously squeezing your bladder and your diaphragm.
Elizabeth was mellow. The first time you saw her properly on a scan she was sucking her thumb. While her sister kicked lumps out of you, Elizabeth was never so violent. On the other hand, when she was born she screamed the loudest.
The oldest of the pair, Elizabeth enjoys her comfort. You’ve always called her ‘the little princess’. She likes familiar people, places and activities. In contrast, Bridget is a dare devil. Her biggest goal in life was to learn to crawl which she achieved almost three weeks ahead of her older sister. Elizabeth watched, maybe she was jealous but she didn’t make any extra effort to learn. Everything in her own time. She knew that she could get what she wanted simply by crying out for you and that took a lot less effort on her part.
Bridget took longer to learn how to walk. When Elizabeth took her time learning to crawl you had been worried, by the time that it came to walking you were well aware of how different your little girls were. They took everything at their own pace. You supposed that Bridget had decided that she could move much faster on all fours and so had no reason to slow down and start walking. Elizabeth, though shy, loved the attention that being the first to walk brought.
Elizabeth has always been the thinker. When faced with a puzzle she likes to study it, consider her options and then act. Bridget will storm in, not worried about how sticky, messy or how much trouble it will cause.
Watching them growing it has always fascinated you to see how two children, raised in the same situation but the same person can turn out so completely different. You see yourself in both your girls, in different ways of course; Bridget looks most like you - as your Mom was quick to point out, Elizabeth shares your artistic streak - she helpfully attempted to decorate the kitchen wall with crayons shortly after moving back to Virginia.
And of course, when considering your children you can’t forget your other baby; Rebel. Just like your job at the library he was supposed to be temporary, you were just watching him until someone else came along. While you were on maternity leave you had the time to watch a young dog. Then, when a new home did come along, you made your excuses and kept him. In truth you felt safer having him around.
You were worried about Rebel getting possessive or jealous once the babies were born. You needn’t have worried. He was brilliant. If, when you were in bed asleep, you didn’t get up immediately when one of the girls began to wail, he would place both paws on your chest and whine. When they were in their cribs or playpen Rebel would curl protectively beside them. At feeding times he would stick close by when they were fed - no doubt hoping for scraps.
You’ve often said that Rebel is part dog, part chicken. He enjoys all the traditional canine pursuits; playing fetch, taking long walks, going for car drives with his head hanging out of the window. But he’s also easily spooked; he hated the sound of the microwave, feet moving under blankets and seeing pigs on the TV.
Oddly, given his ‘fraidy-cat tendencies, he loves storms. In his eyes they are entertainment displays put on soley for his benefit. Rebel usually joins in with the rumbles and cracks outside; he growls along with the thunder and barks with the lightning. His antics during storms would be hilarious, if it weren’t for the fact that you usually spend the duration of any good rainstorm trying to comfort two scared children.
Despite being totally different in many respects, that is one phobia that the girls have always shared. Storms. From the moment that they hear the first rumble of thunder a look a fear appears on their faces and within seconds the tears begin.
Worse than the storms which are forecast on weather reports are the ones that sneak up on you. Like the one that hit when Gibbs had been in hospital for three days and the weather became unexpectedly hot and humid. Great gray clouds filled the sky and there were regular downpours of heavy rain.
After a day spend trying to distract the girls from the inevitable with Winnie the Pooh on DVD and all sorts of noisy toys. You decided to pay a visit to the hospital in the early evening. According to the nurses Gibbs had been tetchy all day. One of the younger women suggested that it was the weather to blame, riling everyone up, but you knew that three days in one spot was too much for Gibbs. Being told that he wasn’t allowed to go to work was one thing, not being allowed to work on his boat was another, but being told that he wasn’t allowed to see his daughters was guaranteed to put him a foul mood.
“Maybe I could take Bridget and Elizabeth to see their Dad?” You ask, knowing that everyone would benefit; the girls would be happy - making you happy, and Gibbs would be happy… happier - making the nurses happy.
The nurses don’t look too sure about this suggestion, the rule on the ward is that children don’t go any further than the nurses desk. Fortunately Dr. Albright choses that moment to make an appearance.
She gives you a gracious smile. “I think we can bend the rules, just this once.” She says, stepping out of your way to let you by with the stroller. “It’ll probably cheer him up a little.” You know from that comment that the nurses probably aren’t the only ones that Gibbs has pissed off today.
The rain is really hammering down outside and as you enter Gibbs room you are certain that you see a tell-tale flash of lightning in the distance. He is studying the weather from his bed when you enter the room, he doesn’t look round until Elizabeth yells “Daddy!”
When he turns around he is smiling. You know it’s because you’ve brought his daughters to visit, they are the two people that he misses the most right now, though a little part of you hopes that the smile is intended for you as well.
As you move closer Gibbs scoots up the bed to make room for his little girls. He looks so much brighter with them here. A low rumble tells you that the storm is moving closer, you hope that the girls don’t create a scene, it’s hardly the way to convince the nurses that they should be allowed to visit their father.
Gibbs catches you staring nervously out the window. “Scared of the storm?” He asks. He knows you’re not, you’ve worked through storms plenty of times before. He’s got that smirk on his face, after having a bad day his mood is now improving.
“I’m not. They are.” You jab a finger in the direction of your daughters. The thunder is getting louder, the lightning closer. A few more seconds and you’ll have a full-scale crying fit on your hands. In stereo.
Gibbs raises an eyebrow at the little girls in his lap. “Really?” He asks. Bridget tries to play with an IV while Elizabeth sits sedately on her father’s knee.
“Trust me. Once they realise what’s going on outside all hell will break loose.” Even as you say it you realise it’s probably not going to happen. The girls don’t care a bit about what the weather outside is doing. You plough on anyway. “On their first birthday we had a massive lightning storm, they screamed the whole way through it. They get really frightened by storms.”
Gibbs face falls a little and you know it has nothing to do with the weather outside. It’s because you mentioned their first birthday, not only was he unable to attend the party, at the time he didn’t know that there was anything to be celebrated. For a moment you are worried that you have upset him, you’re always conscious of reminding him of how much of the girls lives he has missed out on. However Gibbs watches Elizabeth as she moves around trying to get more comfortable, and you see that he’s smiling a little again.
A bright flash illuminates the room for a moment followed suddenly by a loud rumble. You look to your daughters for their reaction. Elizabeth has her eyes closed, comfortable in her Dad’s arms. Bridget raises herself unsteadily, holding onto Gibbs for support. She stares in the direction of the winow and says “ahh.”
Half an hour later a full scale gale is raging outside. Inside Elizabeth is curled on Gibbs’ pillow, completely oblivious to the storm. Gibbs sits beside her with Bridget standing on his lap. They watch the storm the way that you watch firework displays on the fourth of July.
All you can think of as you perch on the end of the bed watching Gibbs and the girls is that there is no other place you would rather be, and you hope that Rebel doesn’t annoy the neighbours too much.