Ashleigh Anpilova


Gibbs takes Ducky's book to the person best placed to give him an opinion on it.

A Gibbs and McGee-centric gen story.

Written: January. Word count: 500.



By the time Gibbs pulled up outside McGee's apartment block, it was a quarter past ten, pretty late for a non-arranged visit. He just hoped McGee wouldn't think it was too late; he could go home and return at a reasonable time, but he didn't want to. He wanted McGee's opinion on Ducky's book and he wanted it as soon as possible.


He glanced up and was relieved and pleased to see lights were still shining brightly in McGee's apartment. Forgoing the elevator, he jogged up several flights of stairs and along to McGee's door. He rang the bell.


After a few second he heard the security chain being pulled off and the door was open. "Bo- Gi- Jethro," McGee managed. When Gibbs had retired and was no longer anyone's boss, he had insisted the team call him by his given name. Ziva and somewhat surprisingly Palmer didn't have a problem with calling him 'Jethro'. However, both McGee and DiNozzo had found it much harder to drop 'boss' for 'Jethro'.


"Hey, Tim," he said. "Need you do to something for me."


"Sure, Bo- Jethro. Anything. Come in." McGee stood back and let Gibbs into his apartment.


"Thanks, Tim." He glanced around; nothing much seemed to have changed since the last time he'd been here.


"Coffee? Beer? Whiskey?"


"Small whiskey, please."


"My pleasure." It didn't take Tim long to pour two whiskies and hand one to Gibbs who'd already sat down on the couch.


"Thanks, Tim."


McGee sat down on the opposite end of the couch and looked expectantly at Gibbs. "What do you need me to do, Jethro?"


Gibbs held out Ducky's book. "Read this and give me your honest opinion." He watched at McGee looked at the title, watched McGee's mouth fall partly open, watched as he turned to the dedication page, watched as he read, watched as he swallowed hard and dashed his hands over his eyes, watched as he looked up and met Gibbs's eyes. "Boss?" For once McGee didn't attempt to correct himself and Gibbs didn't either.


"Yeah, Tim. Ducky wrote a book. It's his stories. You ones you all thought didn't have endings."


"They do?"


"Yep. Sure do."


"Have you read it?"


Gibbs nodded. "Yeah."




"And as I said I want your honest opinion. Are they worth trying to get published or not?" He drank the whiskey in one swallow and stood up. "I'll stop by tomorrow and you can tell me." He paused, but McGee said nothing, he was already reading. "I'll let myself out then, Tim. Okay?" There still wasn't a reply. Smiling to himself, Gibbs let himself out of Tim's apartment.


By the time he'd reached his car it had turned cold and begun to rain; but he didn't feel it. Instead he felt warm and dry; finally he had a project he could work on. At least he thought he did.




A Myth


Opinion Sought

In Tim's Opinion

All Sewn Up