Post by Gibbs on Oct 4, 2005 8:18:58 GMT -5
Gibbs sat on a high stool in the basement, polishing the newly finished hull of his first boat. It was a masterpiece that was slowly but surely coming together. People asked him how he would ever get it out of the basement. It was a valid question, but the answer was that it wasn't something to sail. It was something tangible, an embodiment of all of his stress, his worry and his marital problems. Why would he want to remember those? Well, the truth was that he didn't really want to remember them. It was just something to show for the creativity and dedication that he could channel anger and stress into. He sighed lightly as he saw the light in the kitchen above the stairs to the basement flick on. It was three in the morning and Jen was undoubtedly coming to ask why he wasn't in bed yet. He didn't want to talk to her now. He didn't want to talk about anything.
Gibbs remembered him. A fellow agent that had been killed earlier in the line of duty. He had died because of Gibbs' mistake. He had died because Gibbs had been too worried about Jen, about his lover, than about the person that had really been in danger. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, picking up the glass of scotch that sat on the table beside his boat, taking a quick sip and feeling a little warmer almost immediately. He heard the door creak open over the hiss of the sandpaper. He didn't bother looking up until he felt Jen's hands on his shoulders. Gibbs put the sanding pad he held down on the table and slouched a little in his chair, looking over his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Gibbs. I know you're upset, but don't go blaming yourself," Jen told him.
"Easy for you to say," he said monotonously.
What was he supposed to do? Just pretend like it hadn't been his mistake and move on? Just act like having fellow agents murdered because he was too wrapped up in his love life was part and parcel of the job. No, that wasn't right. He wasn't going to use Jen as an excuse. He wasn't going to use their relationship as an excuse for what had happened to their teammate. That was the trouble with love. It skewed things, it made him want to see only love, nothing more. It made him miss the details. Love got people killed. Romance between agents couldn't exist. He couldn't be impartial when it was there. He had to break it off, or he would never be a good field agent. Gibbs turned around on the stool slowly, looking at Jen, putting his hands over hers and sighing resignedly.
"Jen, this isn't working," he said lightly. "The director was right. Romance between agents doesn't work. What happened today is going to get one of us fired. What happened today cost Jackson his life. I can't do that again."
He could see the tears forming in Jen's eyes. If he were less of a man, or perhaps more of a man, he would have teared up, too, but no. Gibbs was going to be a rock. He wasn't going to get all bleary eyed because of something like a broken heart. He wasn't going to let love win.
"Gibbs, I..." she trailed off.
"You know it can't work, Jen," Gibbs said lightly. "You know as well as I do. Please, don't make it any harder. This is it."
Was he really throwing away a few years of marriage for his career? Of course he was. What kind of an NCIS agent would he be if he didn't? Gibbs let go of Jen as she pulled her hands away and swallowed thickly before turning around and walking off. One day she would understand, he knew. One day she would see it his way. She just didn't see it now.
Gibbs picked up his glass of scotch again and took a long draught before turning back to his boat. It was time to finish it. Time to finish this chapter in his life and then turn it into firewood and start over again.
Gibbs remembered him. A fellow agent that had been killed earlier in the line of duty. He had died because of Gibbs' mistake. He had died because Gibbs had been too worried about Jen, about his lover, than about the person that had really been in danger. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, picking up the glass of scotch that sat on the table beside his boat, taking a quick sip and feeling a little warmer almost immediately. He heard the door creak open over the hiss of the sandpaper. He didn't bother looking up until he felt Jen's hands on his shoulders. Gibbs put the sanding pad he held down on the table and slouched a little in his chair, looking over his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Gibbs. I know you're upset, but don't go blaming yourself," Jen told him.
"Easy for you to say," he said monotonously.
What was he supposed to do? Just pretend like it hadn't been his mistake and move on? Just act like having fellow agents murdered because he was too wrapped up in his love life was part and parcel of the job. No, that wasn't right. He wasn't going to use Jen as an excuse. He wasn't going to use their relationship as an excuse for what had happened to their teammate. That was the trouble with love. It skewed things, it made him want to see only love, nothing more. It made him miss the details. Love got people killed. Romance between agents couldn't exist. He couldn't be impartial when it was there. He had to break it off, or he would never be a good field agent. Gibbs turned around on the stool slowly, looking at Jen, putting his hands over hers and sighing resignedly.
"Jen, this isn't working," he said lightly. "The director was right. Romance between agents doesn't work. What happened today is going to get one of us fired. What happened today cost Jackson his life. I can't do that again."
He could see the tears forming in Jen's eyes. If he were less of a man, or perhaps more of a man, he would have teared up, too, but no. Gibbs was going to be a rock. He wasn't going to get all bleary eyed because of something like a broken heart. He wasn't going to let love win.
"Gibbs, I..." she trailed off.
"You know it can't work, Jen," Gibbs said lightly. "You know as well as I do. Please, don't make it any harder. This is it."
Was he really throwing away a few years of marriage for his career? Of course he was. What kind of an NCIS agent would he be if he didn't? Gibbs let go of Jen as she pulled her hands away and swallowed thickly before turning around and walking off. One day she would understand, he knew. One day she would see it his way. She just didn't see it now.
Gibbs picked up his glass of scotch again and took a long draught before turning back to his boat. It was time to finish it. Time to finish this chapter in his life and then turn it into firewood and start over again.
