The morning had gone seemingly well, having the day off, you were able to take care of a lot of errands you had been putting off such as pulling all of the weeds from your backyard that managed to weasel their way back in even after drenching them in weed killer.
You were so engrossed with picking them and listening to one of your favorite podcasts, you almost missed hearing the doorbell ringing. Taking the gloves off, you paused your podcast and went inside to answer the door, slightly surprised to see two very professional people standing outside.
"Good evening ma'am. I'm Special Agent DiNozzo with NCIS and this is Agent McGee, mind if we ask you a few questions regarding Karen Moss?"
You shifted your weight nervously, stomach turning at the sound of your friends name.
"What's wrong? Did something happen?"
They shared a solemn look between the two of each other, telling you everything you needed to know.
"Her body was found this morning a few streets away and based on her call history, you were the last person to speak with her before her death. May we ask where you were last night around 11pm?"
You covered your mouth in shock, not believing that they just told you that your close friend died, let alone was possibly murdered and know were questioning you as if you might be a suspect. You thought back about the time they were referring to and memories of Jethro and you tangled together in your bed sheets popped into your mind. You thought about telling them, not sure if they even worked with Jethro, but decided on giving them the simplified version instead.
"I was here. With my boyfriend.."
"Is he here now to verify your whereabouts?" DiNozzo asked, taking a small peek over you as if he'd catch a glimpse of someone fleeing. Were all NCIS so suspicious?
"No, but I can give you his number. His name is Leroy Gibbs. His number is-
"Wait, sorry. Leroy Gibbs?" Agent DiNozzo interrupted, facial expression disbelieving. "Grey hair, high and tight haircut, broody mysterious Leroy Gibbs?"
You chuckled a little at his choice of words to describe your boyfriend, seeing how well he made an impression on people.
"Well not usually broody around me but yes, I guess you could say that. Why? Do the two of you know him?"
Once again, the two agents shared a look, this time one of confusion and awe.
"Uh, could you just hang on one second," DiNozzo asked. "I'll be right back."
You stood there with Agent McGee who looked like he wanted say something, but didn't as Agent DiNozzo walked a few paces, pulling out his phone and dialing a number.
"So was Kathy murdered? You said her body was found. When I talked with her last night, she said she was on her way to meet up with someone for a blind date," you asked McGee who was focused on the phone call Agent DiNozzo was having.
"Well Abby was able to go through the Lieutenant's phone and her number was the last dialed. We were just following- Uh yes- Well I wasn't sure- Of course boss, I'll tell McGee."
Agent DiNozzo came back over before murmuring to Agent McGee.
"Gibbs wants us to bring her in for protection. I told him you'd explain to him why we questioned his girlfriend without letting him know."
"What do mean, me? You're the one that had Abby look up the phone records."
"Just take one for the team McProbie. He's still mad at me for the whole coffee incident. Plus, you owe me."
You watched the two supposed Federal Agents argue like siblings, neither one of them wanting to be in the line of Jethro's mood and honestly it was kind of funny. Jethro never really talked much about his team but you had only been seeing him for a few months and 9 times out of 10, the two of you weren't doing much talking when you saw each other.
You decided to break up the little tiff the two of them were having in order to save some time.
"Alright, well while the two of you sort all that out, I'm going to change and lock up the house before we leave."
"Sounds good," Agent DiNozzo responded before going back to bickering with his partner.
- - - -
You took another sip from the little paper cup of water Agent David had given you as you waited in the conference room. She wanted to know about you and Jethro but you didn't divulge much information, knowing Jethro liked his personal life kept close and unknown for the most part. It wasn't long before the door opened and your boyfriend walked in along with Agent DiNozzo and David. You decided against giving Jethro a hug or kiss in front of his subordinates, although the both of them looked like they'd love nothing more than to see that happen.
You all sat down at the conference table except Agent DiNozzo who was wound up tighter than a jack in the box.
"Did Kathy give you a description of this blind date she was seeing?" Jethro started the questioning with. You spoke about everything you knew from the phone call you had with Kathy, tearing up towards the end, still not believing your friend was dead.
Jethro reached out to hold your hand and give you a tissue to wipe your eyes with, making his agents stare in interest at the caring gesture.
"It's like I'm in an alternate Gibbs reality," DiNozzo whispered to Agent David.
Jethro shot him a look before speaking. "Why aren't the two of you putting out a BOLO on this guy?"
"On it boss," Agent DiNozzo spoke quickly, leaving the room with Agent David following close behind, shutting the door after them.
"I think you should stay with me just in case until we catch the killer," he offered, standing up.
"Ok," you squeaked, not wanting to do much talking anymore.
"Come ere," he ordered softly, pulling you to your feet and into his arms for a hug. You accepted it eagerly, breathing in his scent, calming you down a bit.
Once you were better, the two of you walked out of the room and into the squad room, not expecting to be stared at by almost everyone there.
"What kind of reputation do you have with the opposite sex to make everyone look at me like the new zoo exhibit?" you asked Jethro, making him chuckle.
"They're just being nosy. Ignore them."
Jethro stopped Agent DiNozzo from asking anymore questions about the two of you as well as pulling you away from a very animated Forensic Scientist that seemed to have had entirely too much caffeine.
Jethro accompanied you back to your house where you packed a bag before driving you to his house, making a drawer available for you in his bedroom.
"I get my own drawer now. Things are really becoming serious, aren't they?" you teased him.
"Hey, I'm not the one who told my agents that I was your boyfriend," he retorted.
"Should I not have?" you asked genuinely worried that you had overstepped a boundary. He pulled you into his arms, staring into your eyes and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"I don't mind the title. Just know that they're gonna have a million questions for you now," he stated, referring to his very curious agents. You smiled, giving him a peck on the lips and loving the new stage you both were now in.
"That's alright. I'll be sure to tell them how you love it when I give you back scratches while we cuddle together and watch movies."
Your joking was cut short as his fingers pressed themselves into your ribs, effectively tickling you till the both of you were on the bed, him hovering above you.
"You know, had it not been for you, I wouldn't have had an alibi for last night," you told him, running your fingers through his hair.
"Must of slipped my mind but," he murmured into your skin, kissing your shoulder. "I don't exactly remember how last night went. Maybe you can help jog my terrible memory."
Laughing at his playfulness, you played into it, pulling him in for a passionate kiss, ready to remind him exactly what happened that night.
⌖ Maybe it’s your habit of self-sabotage. Maybe it’s his recent withdrawal. Maybe it’s both of you. Maybe you were destined for each other. Maybe in a different life. Oh well.
⌖ I’m bad at summarizing or anything. Read it. No happy ending.
It had been a whirlwind: your relationship with Jethro.
He met you at the bar, seeing your high bun and your tense shoulders and he sidled up next to you. Gibbs didn’t know why but you were an enigma to him. Someone new, mysterious and he had to know you.
And know you he did. Gibbs grew fond of the dimple on your left cheek, read the stretch marks on your thighs like braille, and kissed your scars like his lips and the raised skin were estranged lovers.
But Jethro learned things about you other than the freckles and other physicalities. He learned your coffee order, how you liked your eggs, why you didnt sleep with a pillow, and how you tied your boots the way you did.
Jethro- instead of coming over when he wanted sex- came over whenever he was free. Or invited you to his place (you were a splendid woodworker, he found).
You would sometimes spontaneously see a movie or go out to eat. Jethro would convince you to come stay a weekend at the cabin with him. Maybe he’d help you re-learn how to hunt. Jethro learned how to operate an actual phone with you, often texting your friends back when you were busy.
Then he was sent out on a case.
A week long, absolutely no contact with anyone except his team. And you were completely fine with that. You’d been in the military at a time in your life and you knew how he was: that’s why you got along so well.
It was when Jethro came back did you realize that he would never be able to settle down with you.
Sure he still kissed you after he cleaned you up, but he didn’t stay. Jethro brought you your coffee, but it didn’t have a smiley face or a heart on the side drawn in sharpie anymore.
But the worst part?
It took you two months to realize it.
So now, you’re putting your truck in park in Jethro’s parking lot. Tonight is as good a night as ever, you thought. Despite the anxiety in your gut, you knew you were never going to be able to be with anyone permanently. You wished you weren’t so blind.
But oh how it felt good to see his blue gaze filled with adoration, to feel a nauseating sensation in your gut whenever he reached his hand out for you to hold his hand. Oh. Oh no.
“Hey, you,” Jethro greeted, looking up from his boat- the beautiful thing that you’d helped him with diligently. The damned craft that had you thinking of him whenever someone even mentioned a boat.
You leaned against the railing. “I’m moving.”
The sander in Jethro’s hands actually shook. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing- undoubtedly trying to depict what you were playing at. But you weren’t. You had everything packed up, house nearly sold. Buyers picking the keys up tomorrow. Done deal.
“I, uh… came to say goodbye,” you said.
Disbelief replaced skepticism. “What? What’re ya moving for?” He placed the sander down.
You scratched your head. “You don’t need me. I don’t need you. I need to live my life. Alone. Neither of us are destined for a happy ending,” you say, feeling that embarrassing sting in your eyes. “Things have changed and I’m not good for you. So I need to leave.”
“Wh- What the hell are you talking about?” Jethro asked, throwing his hands up. He shook his head, spluttering. Trying to find things to say. “You’re going to run away from this? What’s changed?”
You shook your head and smiled to hide your welling eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. And it’s not your fault.” You step foward, and take another step, and another until you can stand in front of him in all of your glory. “I’m not going to be another stain on your life, Jethro, but I would be remiss if I didn’t… if I didn’t tell you that a part of me will always be in love with you. But that’s why I have to go.”
Jethro shook his head again, his own eyes glinting. He wet his lips, buying time to keep you in fromt of him before you turn into another ghost to haunt him. “Stop. Don’t say that. Y/n-“
“Kiss me goodbye.”
His lips quivered as he slowly lowered his head to yours and paused: breathing in the scent of you for the last time. Then that damned tear fell, racing down his cheeks and reached his lips just as he closed the gap between the two of you, tasting of salt and sadness and the familiar melancholy grief that had become a permanent resident in Jethro’s heart, soul, and bones.
You broke away first, own tears dripping from your chin to Jethro’s floor. “I love you, Jethro.”
His jaw clenched. “Don’t,” he rasped. He cursed himself. “Y/n, don’t.”
And for a moment you really did consider staying. But then you remembered the hallowness in his actions after returning from that case. You remembered him leaving you at night when it was cold. You remember him more quiet than the man you fell for. And you knew you couldn’t do it all again. Hell, you would ruin it all anyway just like you always do.
“Semper fidelis, marine,” you muttered before tilting your head up- reveries of tears glittering in the light highlighting the sorrow that was mitually shared.
And you turned on your heel and walked out of the basement. Out of the house. Drove out ofthe state. Out and away.
But Jethro let his eyes fall to the floor. To the droplets of tears- your tears. And his, mixed. He stood there all night. Well into the morning. Watching the last of you disappear just like the last two women he had truly truly loved had.
