Ashleigh Anpilova


It's Christmas morning and Gibbs realizes just how comfortable being in Ducky's home with Ducky is.

An established relationship story.

Written: December 2010. Word count: 1,000.



Gibbs stamped his feet, blew on his hands and shoveled another spade of snow off the drive and onto the snow covered front lawn. He stamped his feet and continued shoveling.


Once the drive was as clear as he could get it, he turned his attention to the steps leading up to Reston House and began to clear those. "That's the best I can do, Duck," he muttered to the still, bitterly cold, white morning. Despite how cold it was, he was sweating and he wiped the back of his glove-clad hand over his forehead. His undershirt felt clammy and he was resigned to a second shower before lunch.


He glanced at his watch, it was half past ten, he'd been working for the best part of half an hour and in all honesty there wasn't that much to show for it, plus the snow was once again coming down. He reckoned his hard work might well be undone by the time the kids arrived at one o'clock.


He sighed, trudged up the steps, grabbed a broom and brushed the snow off the porch, before stamping his feet to get rid of the worst of the snow and going back inside. The heat hit him as he walked into the hall and he hurriedly pulled off his coat, hat, gloves, scarf and the fleece vest he'd put on. Pulling off his boots, he left everything by the front door and padded into the kitchen.


"Done the best I can, Duck. But the snow's coming down again."


Ducky put down the potato he was peeling and hurried over to him. "Thank you, my dear," he said, reaching up and lightly kissing Gibbs. "I know you think I was just worrying unnecessarily, but we do not want the children to get stuck, do we? Or not be able to get up the drive at all?"


"Don't we?" Gibbs quipped.


"Jethro." Ducky sounded hurt.


Gibbs put his arms around Ducky and pulled him nearer and kissed him. "Just kidding, Duck. Course we don't want them not to get here. Who'd eat all this lot," he waved one arm around the kitchen, before putting it back around Ducky, "if DiNozzo doesn't get here." He smiled down at Ducky who sighed, rolled his eyes exaggeratedly and then chuckled.


"Ah, Jethro, Jethro," he said, "what am I going to do with you?"


"Well if the kids weren't coming I could show you."


Ducky tsked, before extracting himself from Gibbs's embrace and crossing to the cooker where he stirred something. A smell of alcohol, spices and citrus wafted in Gibbs's direction and he moved to stand by Ducky. "Smells good, Duck," he said.


"Let us hope it tastes as good. Here," Ducky ladled some into a glass and handed it to Gibbs. "Of course one would normally serve this in pewter goblets, but they are awaiting our guests in the dining room."


Gibbs took the glass and inhaled the warming scent. "Bit early, isn't it, Duck?" he asked, nonetheless already sipping the deep red liquid; it tasted even better than it smelled.


Ducky poured himself a smaller glass and sipped it. "It is Christmas Day, Jethro," he said, as if that explained everything. "Mmmm, yes, that is very nearly perfect. I'll just add a smidgeon more cinnamon and a tiny squeeze of lemon and, there, that's better." He handed Gibbs a second glass.


Gibbs dutifully took it and sipped. In all honesty he couldn't tell any difference between it and the other one he'd tasted. However, he nodded. "Yeah, great, Duck."


Ducky looked up at him his eyes twinkling. "Ah, Jethro," he said, once more reaching up and lightly kissing Jethro. Gibbs knew his ruse had been seen through. "Donít ever change, will you?"


Gibbs put his arms around Ducky and held him in a loose embrace. He knew he wouldn't have long to just stand and enjoy Ducky, before Ducky sent him off to perform another task while he turned his hand to lunch, so he was going to enjoy it while he could. It was comfortable in the kitchen, but then being with Ducky, especially in Ducky's Reston home was always comfortable. Being with Ducky was easy, effortless, being with Ducky felt so right.


He'd always known the day would come when he'd admit what he'd always known: he wanted to be with Ducky and no-one else. He wanted to share a home with Ducky, share his life with Ducky. Why did he go on month after month, year after year fighting the inevitable? He wasn't going to find anyone else he loved as much or anyone else who loved him as much. Nor was he going to find anyone else who was so comfortable to be with and around.


"Hey, Duck?"


"Mmm?" Ducky was glancing at the kitchen clock and Gibbs saw him frown a little.




"Yes, Jethro?" Ducky stared up at him.


"Something I want to ask you?"


"Is it important, Jethro, because I really should be getting on with luncheon?" He sounded more than a little distracted.


Gibbs smiled to himself. Yeah, it was important, probably the most important thing he'd done for over two decades. Maybe he should wait. But why bother? He and Ducky weren't romantic, young lovers. They didn't need long speeches and expressions of love. "Was just thinking, it's time we - Duck!"


"Sorry, my dear, but I really -"


"Want to share a home with me?"


"Now, if I - What did you say, Jethro?"


Gibbs laughed. "Ah, Duck, Duck, Duck. Asked if you wanted to share a home with me. Mine or here or - Take that as a yes, shall I?" he asked politely, a couple of minutes later when Ducky broke the kiss.


Ducky just beamed. "And we'll tell the children at luncheon." It wasn't a question. He kissed Gibbs again, before slipping from the embrace and returning to peeling potatoes.


Gibbs laughed, snagged another glass of mulled wine and headed off to grab a quick shower.



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