NCIS/Torchwood
I've gone and written a cross over between NCIS and Torchwood. It's slash for Gibbs/Jack Harkness, but only suggestive in content, not explicit. If some part of that doesn't float your boat, then don't read it. Otherwise, give me a chance.
Title: Visit From An Old Acquaintance
Author: triskellion
Rating: PG-13
Warning: slash, men kissing
Words: 1204
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the setting, just borrowed them, shook them in a bottle, and served.
Summary: Gibbs leaves his front door unlocked because one never knows when a friend will come to visit. That doesn't mean he can't tell who came through the door.
The familiar creak of the floor above indicated feet moving from the front door to the living room, from the living room to the stairs, the stairs to the kitchen, and finally to the basement. Gibbs had grabbed his gun from the work bench at the small of his back when the steps first wandered from the direct path to the basement. Anyone who knew him knew where he would be this time of night, and the footsteps were unfamiliar. He could ID the steps of his team or Hollis, or even Jen when she decided to stop by. These feet had never been through his house before.
Appearances can be deceiving, and so while he did not appear to look up when the footsteps reach the basement stairs, he had positioned himself so that there was a view even as he continued to nonchalantly sand the ribs of his boat. However, only one person he knew wore a coat and pants like those that came into view, and the soft familiar chuckle, though long unheard by him, let him relax back into the soothing back and forth of working the wood.
Silence filled the basement, save the scrape of sandpaper over wood, for several minutes. From the corner of his eye, Gibbs saw his new guest settle onto one of the last steps, his long coat wrapped about him.
“I never really believed you about the boat,” the other man finally admitted into the soothing silence.
“Not the same boat,” Gibbs said, running his hand along the rib to check the finish.
“How did you ever get the last one out?”
Gibbs looked over at his uninvited guest and smirked. “That is one of the mysteries of the ages.”
That comment earned another chuckle. “It's good to see you, Jethro.”
“Good to see you too, Jack.” Gibbs set the sand paper aside and moved towards the stairs, dropping the gun back on the work bench on his way. Captain Jack Harkness stood and met him half way in a loose, friendly hug. “Never expected to see you outside of Wales. What if your doctor come while you're away?”
“He's been and gone,” Jack said, his tone sad but his eyes showed ... contentment.
“You stayed.” It wasn't a question, just a statement of understanding.
“I've got a good team back there these days. It was the right choice.”
Gibbs smiled at the relaxed confidence in those words. This wasn't the haughty mask he'd seen most often in Cardiff, and it looked good on the other man. He leaned in and kissed Jack on the cheek before stepping back and grabbing the sand paper again. “You haven't changed a bit.”
“You have,” Jack said with a laugh, following Gibbs and surprising him with a hand messing up his hair. “Salt and pepper looks good on you.”
Gibbs went back to sanding, relaxed, leaning into each stroke while Jack leaned against the workbench and watched. Well, more likely he was checking out Gibbs' ass, but that was Jack for you.
“So what brings you to my neck of the woods?” Gibbs finally asked.
“Needed to get a few days outside the box,” the enigmatic man replied. “It's been a hell of a year.”
“With the doctor come and gone, I'd think so,” Gibbs replied dryly. But he didn't miss the look of pain in the other man's eyes. Well, he'd talk about it if he wanted to. Gibbs wasn't some touchy-feely shrink to go drawing the man into deep conversation about his pain and life traumas.
“And then some.”
“Guess I did offer you a standing invitation.”
“Actually, as I recall, you just told me your door is always unlocked and walked off with some redhead.” Jack grinned broadly at the memory.
“She's director of NCIS these days,” Gibbs admitted, shaking his head. Even after two years the situation still felt odd some days.
“You two still ...” Jack paused, waving his hand suggestively.
“God no,” Gibbs snapped and hunched his shoulders. “She Dear Johned me not long after we met. I went onto Russia to marry ex-wife number three ...”
“Woops,” Jack commented with disgusting glee.
“And while we flirt, it's about the only way to get my way, so it's not going anywhere,” Gibbs said firmly.
“I won't tell her you said that.”
Gibbs rounded on the other man, eyes wide. “Don't tell me you're planning to swing by and say hi?”
“Well, I had intended to stay a few days, maybe say hi to Ducky,” Jack said with a twinkle in his eye.
“You do realize she saw that goodbye kiss,” Gibbs pointed out.
“You do realize I saw that hello kiss,” Jack countered.
With a sigh Gibbs went back to his sanding. “Just, for God's sake, don't tell her where you're staying if you do see her. I don't want to deal with it.”
“And where am I staying?” Jack asked playfully, stepping over into Gibbs' personal space.
Gibbs didn't respond with words, instead turning his head to look the other man up and down, not with the glare that his team would expect, but rather with open eyed interest.
“Should I worry about anyone else stopping by?” Jack asked, leaning into that look.
There was a momentary pause while Gibbs considered Hollis. He liked her, but she was pushing for more than he was inclined to offer. He did not need an ex-wife number four. Of course, she had been pushing for awhile, he just was less inclined to put up with it now. If she came over now, well, it'd be messy, but would definitely settle things once and for all. “Nah,” he said, leaning in for a kiss against those lips that had called to him across a crowded bar eight years ago in Wales.
Silence filled the basement again, this time broken only by the occasional rustle of cloth brushing cloth. Finally, two pairs of lips broke apart with a soft pop.
“Older and better. You've been practicing,” Jack purred. Gibbs just smirked and slipped and hand around Jack's left suspender. “Bed?” Jack asked with a suggestive quirk of his eye.
“What, you don't want to do it down here?” Gibbs remembered all too well a few suggestions Jack made after Gibbs admitted he was building a boat in his basement. From the look in Jack's eyes, he remembered too.
“Maybe another night,” Jack offered. “I don't feel like digging splinters out of my ass.”
“As long as you're not implying I'm getting too old for such things.”
“Never.” Jack leaned in for another kiss and Gibbs had to push him fairly hard to break away.
“Thought you wanted a bed?”
A grand gesture towards the stairs was accompanied by a gleeful, “Lead the way.”
Gibbs turned to do so, his hand only reluctantly releasing Jack's suspender, when he was goosed by wandering hands. “Do that again and I will ensure there are splinters in more than your ass,” he promised in a tone that his team would recognize. It seemed Jack did as well as there were no more random attacks until they reached the bedroom. After that, well, that was another matter entirely, wasn't it?
Title: Visit From An Old Acquaintance
Author: triskellion
Rating: PG-13
Warning: slash, men kissing
Words: 1204
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the setting, just borrowed them, shook them in a bottle, and served.
Summary: Gibbs leaves his front door unlocked because one never knows when a friend will come to visit. That doesn't mean he can't tell who came through the door.
The familiar creak of the floor above indicated feet moving from the front door to the living room, from the living room to the stairs, the stairs to the kitchen, and finally to the basement. Gibbs had grabbed his gun from the work bench at the small of his back when the steps first wandered from the direct path to the basement. Anyone who knew him knew where he would be this time of night, and the footsteps were unfamiliar. He could ID the steps of his team or Hollis, or even Jen when she decided to stop by. These feet had never been through his house before.
Appearances can be deceiving, and so while he did not appear to look up when the footsteps reach the basement stairs, he had positioned himself so that there was a view even as he continued to nonchalantly sand the ribs of his boat. However, only one person he knew wore a coat and pants like those that came into view, and the soft familiar chuckle, though long unheard by him, let him relax back into the soothing back and forth of working the wood.
Silence filled the basement, save the scrape of sandpaper over wood, for several minutes. From the corner of his eye, Gibbs saw his new guest settle onto one of the last steps, his long coat wrapped about him.
“I never really believed you about the boat,” the other man finally admitted into the soothing silence.
“Not the same boat,” Gibbs said, running his hand along the rib to check the finish.
“How did you ever get the last one out?”
Gibbs looked over at his uninvited guest and smirked. “That is one of the mysteries of the ages.”
That comment earned another chuckle. “It's good to see you, Jethro.”
“Good to see you too, Jack.” Gibbs set the sand paper aside and moved towards the stairs, dropping the gun back on the work bench on his way. Captain Jack Harkness stood and met him half way in a loose, friendly hug. “Never expected to see you outside of Wales. What if your doctor come while you're away?”
“He's been and gone,” Jack said, his tone sad but his eyes showed ... contentment.
“You stayed.” It wasn't a question, just a statement of understanding.
“I've got a good team back there these days. It was the right choice.”
Gibbs smiled at the relaxed confidence in those words. This wasn't the haughty mask he'd seen most often in Cardiff, and it looked good on the other man. He leaned in and kissed Jack on the cheek before stepping back and grabbing the sand paper again. “You haven't changed a bit.”
“You have,” Jack said with a laugh, following Gibbs and surprising him with a hand messing up his hair. “Salt and pepper looks good on you.”
Gibbs went back to sanding, relaxed, leaning into each stroke while Jack leaned against the workbench and watched. Well, more likely he was checking out Gibbs' ass, but that was Jack for you.
“So what brings you to my neck of the woods?” Gibbs finally asked.
“Needed to get a few days outside the box,” the enigmatic man replied. “It's been a hell of a year.”
“With the doctor come and gone, I'd think so,” Gibbs replied dryly. But he didn't miss the look of pain in the other man's eyes. Well, he'd talk about it if he wanted to. Gibbs wasn't some touchy-feely shrink to go drawing the man into deep conversation about his pain and life traumas.
“And then some.”
“Guess I did offer you a standing invitation.”
“Actually, as I recall, you just told me your door is always unlocked and walked off with some redhead.” Jack grinned broadly at the memory.
“She's director of NCIS these days,” Gibbs admitted, shaking his head. Even after two years the situation still felt odd some days.
“You two still ...” Jack paused, waving his hand suggestively.
“God no,” Gibbs snapped and hunched his shoulders. “She Dear Johned me not long after we met. I went onto Russia to marry ex-wife number three ...”
“Woops,” Jack commented with disgusting glee.
“And while we flirt, it's about the only way to get my way, so it's not going anywhere,” Gibbs said firmly.
“I won't tell her you said that.”
Gibbs rounded on the other man, eyes wide. “Don't tell me you're planning to swing by and say hi?”
“Well, I had intended to stay a few days, maybe say hi to Ducky,” Jack said with a twinkle in his eye.
“You do realize she saw that goodbye kiss,” Gibbs pointed out.
“You do realize I saw that hello kiss,” Jack countered.
With a sigh Gibbs went back to his sanding. “Just, for God's sake, don't tell her where you're staying if you do see her. I don't want to deal with it.”
“And where am I staying?” Jack asked playfully, stepping over into Gibbs' personal space.
Gibbs didn't respond with words, instead turning his head to look the other man up and down, not with the glare that his team would expect, but rather with open eyed interest.
“Should I worry about anyone else stopping by?” Jack asked, leaning into that look.
There was a momentary pause while Gibbs considered Hollis. He liked her, but she was pushing for more than he was inclined to offer. He did not need an ex-wife number four. Of course, she had been pushing for awhile, he just was less inclined to put up with it now. If she came over now, well, it'd be messy, but would definitely settle things once and for all. “Nah,” he said, leaning in for a kiss against those lips that had called to him across a crowded bar eight years ago in Wales.
Silence filled the basement again, this time broken only by the occasional rustle of cloth brushing cloth. Finally, two pairs of lips broke apart with a soft pop.
“Older and better. You've been practicing,” Jack purred. Gibbs just smirked and slipped and hand around Jack's left suspender. “Bed?” Jack asked with a suggestive quirk of his eye.
“What, you don't want to do it down here?” Gibbs remembered all too well a few suggestions Jack made after Gibbs admitted he was building a boat in his basement. From the look in Jack's eyes, he remembered too.
“Maybe another night,” Jack offered. “I don't feel like digging splinters out of my ass.”
“As long as you're not implying I'm getting too old for such things.”
“Never.” Jack leaned in for another kiss and Gibbs had to push him fairly hard to break away.
“Thought you wanted a bed?”
A grand gesture towards the stairs was accompanied by a gleeful, “Lead the way.”
Gibbs turned to do so, his hand only reluctantly releasing Jack's suspender, when he was goosed by wandering hands. “Do that again and I will ensure there are splinters in more than your ass,” he promised in a tone that his team would recognize. It seemed Jack did as well as there were no more random attacks until they reached the bedroom. After that, well, that was another matter entirely, wasn't it?