Gibbs x Reader (No use of y/n)
Summary: You meet Gibbs for the first time whilst working undercover.
A/N: Not proofread because I don't have time for that 😭 But very proud because I used a semi colon, even though I have a degree in English...
'Ma'am I need to ask you a few questions.' The words seemed to echo through the dimly lit street and stopped you in your tracks. You let out a slow breath, fixing your face for a conversation you'd prepared yourself for only moments ago before turning towards the voice.
As you did you couldn't help but allow your eyes to flick over the scene in a final quick sweep, the other agents scattered along the curb, their badges flashing under the jaundiced glow of the streetlights while they spoke to the array of women scantily dressed and lining the sidewalk, before fixing them on the man in front of you. The man you had spotted across the street less than two minutes ago and instantly decided to trust.
You'd been walking this street for more days than you cared to count, you knew when something was different so when you spotted the cars that screamed Feds it didn't take long to find the accompanying agents. You'd been trained to think quickly on your feet, undercover work demanded it, but you were also naturally gifted at reading people thats why the second you saw the group of agents you knew you had to speak to them. It took a further 30 seconds to decide who you needed to talk to.
The agent you had set your sights on was the oldest of the group, the sharpest, everything about him read military. He was clearly in charge and by the way he reacted when one of the women went to slap one of his agents, quickly, effortlessly and without flinching once you knew he was the one you had to speak to. Only this wasn't the most convenient place to do so.
It was a further minute later after you'd scribbled a meeting place on a scrap of paper that you began to walk past the street they were standing on and if you were right about the kind of man he was, and you knew you were, he'd be the one to come and stop you.
'Sure', your words came out effortlessly as you gave him a very obvious look up and down as if taking him in for the first time, 'but I charge by the minute.'
You felt him trying to figure you out, quickly glancing at the extremely short dress and high heels you were currently wearing whilst his face remained unwavering refusing to raise to the bait. Instead, he took out his badge from his pocket.
You tilted your head, pretending to study the badge while really watching him or rather studying him. The way he held it, calm, steady, like he knew he didn’t need to prove anything. Definitely a Marine, you thought. You’d bet money on it.
'Fancy,' you said with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, 'Guess that makes this a federal affair, huh?'
'Something like that,' he said, slipping the badge away whilst maintaining eye contact. 'You work this street often?'
You let out a soft, practiced laugh. 'Long enough to know when someone doesn't belong here. And your type usually don't get out the car.'
'My type?' he asked raising a brow.
'Feds.' you stated simply, he gave the impression he appreciated getting to the point.
'You get a lot of federal agents here?'
'You'd be surprised,' as the words rolled of your tongue you quickly glanced around checking the other agents were still busy interviewing the many women lining the street. 'You wanted to ask questions,' you added, 'Go ahead.'
'You recognise this man?', Gibbs asked as he pulled a photo from his pocket, holding it between two fingers. You took it, carefully measured, letting your thumb brush his as you did. You pretended to study the image, not wanting to give too much away or the fact that you knew exactly who this man was.
'Nope', you gaze returned to his as you popped the 'p', and from the look he returned, you knew he didn't believe you for a second.
'You sure about that?', his brows raised slightly as he spoke and his face become sterner.
'I am, sorry I couldn't be more help Agent Gibbs,' You held his gaze a beat longer than was polite, letting your lips curve into something slow and knowing, 'It's a shame,' you murmured, 'It would’ve been nice to be useful to a man like you.'
He didn’t flinch. His gaze remaining steady as you took a step closer, the space between you tightening until you could feel the faint warmth coming off him and he could smell the perfume that wasn't quite right for the woman who stood in front of him. Your hand brushed down his sleeve, a light featherlike tough, fingertips lingering just long enough to make a point. Your eyes dipping down for a moment before finding his again.
'I could help you in… other ways,' you said, tone dipping lower, teasing as your voice became breathier. But before he could respond, you slid the folded scrap of paper into his jacket pocket, the motion disguised by the deliberate path your hand took to get there.
He clocked your movement, acting exactly as you had hoped, but his expression didn’t so much as twitch. That alone almost made you smile.
You let your hand linger slightly longer than necessary, tilting your head to the side as if you were wandering in thought before lowering it again but refusing to step back or break the intense eye contact you had fallen into.
It took a beat before he spoke, 'Something tells me you don’t hand out your number that easily,' he said evenly.
A quick glance to your left informed you that his team were heading over now so you knew you had to wrap this up. So you smiled, slowly, deliberately, 'Oh I don't, usually I make them work for it.'
You watched him, amused and shrugged slightly as you took a slight step back, 'I figured you could keep up.' This earned you the smallest flicker in Gibbs' expression but before he could respond a voice broke the eye contact you'd been unwilling to loose.
'Boss? Everything good here?' The group of three agents were now very close to the pair of you, each one wearing a variant of the same confused yet interested expression. You took a second to take them in, and the father/children dynamic was glaringly obvious and before you could stop yourself you began again, 'They always this nosey?'
'Part of the job,' Gibbs replied, his voice steady, gaze never leaving yours.
'Thats a shame', you murmured, still loud enough for the approaching agents to hear, as your hand grazed his arm again, 'I was just starting to enjoy your… interrogation technique.'
Gibbs noticed the way your eyes seemed to sparkle as the words left your mouth, he also noticed the cough of surprise that left Ziva and the astonishment on Tony's face. This earned the faintest twitch of a smirk from him before it quickly disappeared.
Satisfied, you stepped back slowly, your eyes never leaving him as you raised your hand to reveal the handcuffs you had lifted from him moments ago. Dangling them on your finger in front of him you smiled innocently, 'Maybe next time we use these'.
Despite his attempt to look irritated, Gibbs couldn't help biting his tongue and shaking his head slightly, his amusement, however hard he was trying to hide it, evident as he took the cuffs from your hand. Despite the audience you had recently gained, his eyes flickered, his voice becoming lower as he replied, 'You should be careful what your offering.'
At this response your grin widened, head tilting as you let out a breathy laugh, 'Oh Agent Gibbs you have no idea what I'm offering. As you began to walk away you couldn't help the smirk that refused to leave your face, or the slight laugh as you caught the sound of Gibbs ordering his team to get back to work and the hurried footsteps that followed.
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Gibbs spotted you before you'd even had a chance to look up, sitting in a quiet corner of the diner with a half drunk cup of coffee in front of you. You were still in the same clothes as before, drawing a stark contrast to the fraying vinyl booth, yet you looked like an entirely different person to the woman Gibbs had met earlier that day.
When he slid into the booth across from you, you raised your eyes to meet him with a knowing smile.
'Agent Gibbs' you said smoothly, 'glad you found the place.'
'Yeah well you didn't give me much of a choice,' he stated as he held the folded piece of paper with the diner address between his fingers before leaning back into the booth to take you in.
'I should probably reintroduce myself,' you began as you revealed your real name, 'FBI, I've been working undercover for the past 6 months as part of a human trafficking case'
You watched as his eyes swept over you again, assessing, cataloguing information. You could tell he was trying to figure you out, why you hadn't told him the second you'd seen him. Why you had gone through with the facade. The silence stretched for a second, his eyes never leaving you before you decided you'd be the one to break it again.
'That a habit from the corps?' His eyebrow raised slightly, questioning, it wasn't easy to surprise Gibbs and yet you'd managed to do so more times in one evening than most did throughout their lives. 'It's written all over you, the way you stand, the way you scan a room in the time it takes someone to blink. You don’t fidget, don’t flinch. Everything’s calculated.” You smiled. “It’s part of your charm, actually,' you paused, 'and one of the reasons I knew I had to speak to you when I saw you in the street earlier.'
'Charm huh?', he asked, his smirk returning. This earned a small head shake and eye roll from you.
'That's the part you're choosing to focus on?' you asked.
Gibbs leaned forward, his smirk disappearing as his face became serious again, tone dropping, 'What I don't get is why you went through all this trouble, when you saw me you could have just walked up to me and said that, why not be straight with me?'
'Well', you began slowly, ' I don't like burning myself unless I really have too. Do you have any ideas how hard it is to get these women to trust anyone? Because I'll tell you Agent Gibbs its taken me 6 months to get where I am and I'm not going to throw that away, or my op for that matter, just to make a conversation go a little easier.' You knew you were getting a little defensive but you'd seen these women who worked this street disappear and now you were close you weren't going to let them down. You let out another breath, 'and on top of all that, I suspect the guy I'm after has eyes everywhere, and I've learnt you can never be too careful.'
Gibbs studied you for a long moment, silent again. You could tell he wasn’t just hearing your words, he was measuring the conviction behind them. He could tell you were smart, you'd clocked that he was a marine much faster than most people and the way you had maintained your cover with him only hours ago, you were a professional. He'd seen some of the best agents put on a convincing story but this wasn't that.
Then, his eyes softened slightly as his gaze did the same, 'You care about these women.' It wasn't a question, you both knew the answer and you appreciated that he didn't need you to spell it out for him. You nodded softly and this softness seemed to be the final conformation Gibbs needed that he could trust you.
'I do', you began, as Gibbs relaxed into the booth slightly as the waitress brought him over a cup of coffee, 'and I only want the best for this case, so we have a lot to talk about, starting,' you paused, as you pulled an old crumpled photo of the man Gibbs had shown you earlier from next to you and placed it on the table, 'with your dead petty officer.'
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The bullpen was quiet at this time of evening, the hum of the florescent lights filled the space with the occasional agent walking through the office, pausing to take in the woman sat on Gibbs' desk and then scurry away. You sat perched on the edge of Gibbs’ desk, nursing a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold, his jacket draped over your shoulders, a poor attempt at modesty, but better than nothing.
You and Gibbs had already been through the files, piecing together the overlap of your cases and he had just popped down to the basement to see Abby, leaving you pondering the details of the case and take in every detail of Gibbs' desk.
The ding of the elevator pulled you from your thoughts. You didn't have to turn around to know who was walking out of the elevator, the three bickering voices gave it away. As did the footsteps and sudden silence that followed.
'Is that...?' Tony's whispered disbelief cut through the silence, his excitement radiating through his words.
'I believe it is, 'Ziva's reply was simple but laced in utter disbelief.
McGee’s voice followed, a mix of curiosity and confusion. 'What do you think she’s doing here?'
Hearing their not so subtle whispers made you smile but your attention remained on the coffee cup in your hand as you now attempted to hide that smile.
It was Tony who's half whisper shout broke the silence next, 'Is that Gibbs' jacket?' The stunned look on DiNozzo's face was too good to pass up so at this you turned to face the team of agents who had been creeping closer.
'Yes' you replied, your lips curling into a mischievous smile, 'it is.'
That threw them, emboldening the agents to approach you as they attempted to assess the situation, you, in front of them. The three exchanged long questioning glances, as you watched Tony'd face morph into curiosity.
'So,' he began, 'what exactly are you doing here?', his brows raised as the agents seemed to move closer to you in unison. The sight of which made you want to laugh.
You tilted your head innocently, 'Agent Gibbs took me up on my offer to use the handcuffs.' As soon as the words left your mouth you watched as the agents fell apart. Tony blinked, and then couldn't stop blinking. McGee's face turned red, while Ziva's eyebrows shot up.
The next thing to leave DiNozzo's mouth was a jumbled stammer which was promptly interrupted when Gibbs appeared behind the team, calm as ever, coffee in hand.
'Relax DiNozzo.' The simple statement seemed to draw the agents out of their collective short circuiting, their attention drawn to his unreadable yet slightly amused expression, and every one of them took note of it. Before any of them could open their mouths to ask further questions, Gibbs began to introduce you to the group.
'It's nice to meet you all,' you supplied simply. Watching as the agents faces morphed into understanding and even respect.
Tony let out a laugh, 'You're good.'
'I try,' was the simplest reply you could manage, which earned you a smile from the DiNozzo.
Gibbs, clearly ready to move back to work quickly redirected the conversation to the screen in front of them as you began bringing his team up to date.
'So the woman you found dead with your petty officer is Candace Miller,' you pulled up the picture on the screen as the agents eyes remained on you, 'she used to work the same street I was posted on. She'd been working that same corner for around 3 years, about a year and a half into it she was recruited by this man,' you brought up another picture onto the screen, 'his name is Damien Beckett.'
You continued, 'he's a low level human trafficker but more importantly, he works for this guy,' you paused again as a mugshot of a particularly nasty looking man came onto the screen, 'Anton Graves, he’s not just another trafficker. He runs one of the biggest pipelines on the East Coast, drugs, weapons, people. Doesn’t matter what it is as long as it makes him money, it’s his business.'
You let the photo linger on the screen a moment longer before pulling up more photos, 'He’s careful. Doesn’t get his hands dirty. He uses people like Beckett to do the recruiting and women like Candace.'
McGee frowned. 'Recruiting?'
You nodded. 'Candace was good at it. She’d been on the streets long enough to know the girls, the ones just starting out, desperate, young, the ones who nobody would notice if they went missing. Her job was to find them, earn their trust, and pass their details up the chain. She had no idea what she was doing until it was too late.'
The team's attention then shifted to Gibbs as he began to speak, 'We think that’s why she was with our petty officer, he was her ticket out. But Graves’ men got to them before they had the chance.'
'But how did Candace know our petty officer?' Asked Ziva curiously.
You paused for a second, 'He was a regular on that street, I saw him a few times every week always a different girl, I think Candace must have seen the uniform one day and taken her chance.'
You began again, 'My money is on Beckett having killed them, Graves may not get his hands dirty but Beckett is more than happy to.' You looked over the team, each of them piecing this new information together.
'But,' you continued, 'If we go in there and bust Beckett we loose Graves and thats not something I'm willing to do.' You glanced around at the faces around you hoping that they would feel the same way rather than resist, and luckily they all seemed on board.
Gibbs then took over again, ordering his team to start combing through every thing they could find about Graves. 'From now on Graves is our priority, we get Graves, we get Beckett.'
Just as Gibbs finished giving his team orders, Ziva offered you a spare change of clothes which you gladly accepted. Then, a voice from above them cut through the sudden buzz in the room.
'Agent Gibbs,' called Director Vance, 'my office please.' His attention then moved to you, standing next to Gibbs in the skimpy dress and heels, you were yet to change out while Gibbs' jacket lay draped across your shoulders. His brow quirked slightly as Gibbs shrugged, moving towards the stairs to his office.
Vance clocked the change of clothes in your hands, 'Join us once you've changed.' You nodded as the two men left to his office.
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All things considered, this was going better than you expected. Gibbs had clearly filled Director Vance in by the time you ascended the stairs to join them. So now you were sat next to Gibbs facing the Director as he attempted to get his head around all this information.
'And you're willing to work with Agent Gibbs and his team?' Vance asked you, eyes scanning for any hint of negative emotion towards his agents.
'Of course,' you replied, 'Agent Gibbs has been very hospitable.' The smirk on your face was subtle but evidently not what Vance was expecting as his gaze now shifted between you and Gibbs with a questioning air. Gibbs remained unfazed only broken by a momentary laugh. Barely a laugh to anyone else, but to anyone who knew Gibbs, it was something.
'Well,' Vance recovered quickly, 'If your both happy to work together, i'll contact the head of the operation to get them on board with a joint NCIS/FBI task force.' Picking up the phone to begin what could only be described as a chain of bureaucratic phone calls.
But before he could you gestured for him to stop, leaning forward in your chair, 'oh that won't be necessary.' Shaking your head slightly as you relayed this information.
Vance's head tilted slightly, leaning back in his chair as he took you in, 'And why would that be?' his eyebrows raised questioningly.
'Because I'm in charge of the op.'
Vance and Gibbs both seemed slightly shocked by this, Gibbs less evidently so that Vance but still you could see it from just a glance.
'Why does that surprise you?' you asked, although you took no offence to their shock.
'You're young,' Vance began, 'and unless there has been an FBI protocol change that I was unaware of, the Agent in charge of an operation like yours doesn't normally go undercover for 6 months.'
You let out a light breath, shrugging slightly, 'no they don't usually but exceptions were made.' This time it was your turn to be surprised as both Vance and Gibbs didn't push back on your answer or demand to know why you weren't going by the book.
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The bullpen buzzed with low chatter and the soft click of keyboards. Empty coffee cups littered desks, signs of the long days spent in the office. You had spent the past 4 days practically living in the NCIS building, spending every minute scouring CCTV, scrubbing data and questioning informants, desperate for even a hint of where Graves may be.
You were leant against Tony's desk, reading through files while the other agents sat at their desks doing the same. McGee sat scrubbing through traffic cam footage on the monitor when the low hum of noise was suddenly interrupted.
'Got something,' McGee said, fingers flying across the keyboard. 'A black sedan matching Graves’ vehicle just pinged outside a warehouse on the docks, it was rented under a shell company linked to Becket.'
'Thats gotta be him boss,' Tony's tone was a mix of hope and excitement.
Ziva grinned, already reaching for her gear bag as Gibbs' eyes flicked to you in a silent exchange, an exchange the pair of you had perfected over the last few days. You pushed off the desk, grabbing your jacket from Tony's desk as you began walking to the elevator.
'I'll call in my team,' you called out as you lifted your phone to your ear.
Gibbs nodded, telling his team to gear up. The room came alive in that moment, chairs scraping as weapons were checked all while the team swiftly followed you.
You were already on your phone as the elevator doors slid open.
'Yeah, it’s me. We’ve got Graves. Meet us in the garage.' You then hung up, slipping your phone into your pocket just as Gibbs stepped beside you and gave you that signature faint almost-smile.
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The garage of NCIS was dimly lit at this time of day but buzzing with noise. Agents everywhere kitted up, loading gear into cars while you and Gibbs stood shoulder to shoulder. You'd already geared up, sidearms holstered, radios clipped to your shoulders and now you were looking over the schematics fo the building you were about to raid.
'Two teams,' you said, eyes locked on the map. 'Yours takes the north entrance. My team hits the loading bay. Give him nowhere to run.'
Gibbs gave a single approving nod. 'Keep it tight. We want him alive.' As the words left his mouth you suddenly realised just how close the two of you were, shoulder to shoulder, the feeling of his breath on your neck.
'Alive,' you confirmed, your hesitancy and tone hinted that you’d prefer otherwise and hopefully didn't convey your sudden awareness of how close you stood.
A few metres away, Tony, Ziva, and McGee leaned against the next SUV, watching the pair of you and gossiping from the safety of their huddle. All three of them were suited up, tactical vests snug, weapons checked. They were antsy, ready to move and so the conversation, as usual, had turned personal.
Tony let out a low whistle. 'You seeing this? The whole intense eye contact thing? They’ve got chemistry. A lot of it. Think she could be wife number five?'
Ziva arched an eyebrow. 'Or they are simply going over the plans.' Then she paused, not wanting to be left out of the fun 'I can see it, her and Gibbs, they're a good match.'
McGee adjusted his earpiece. 'Yeah, that’s definitely flirting. Gibbs doesn’t stand that close to anyone unless he wants to. Besides, their intense eye contact over the past few days? I didn't imagine that.'
'Careful what you say about her,' a voice came from behind them, cutting through the bubble they had created. The three turned slowly to see Agent Marcus Hale. Marcus had been your field partner for a long time, and was the kind of man who always seemed ten seconds ahead of the chaos. He was tightening the strap on his vest as he continued, not bothered by the array of looks from the NCIS agents in front of him, 'Last guy who underestimated her ended up cuffed to a car door in Mexico.'
Tony's brows raised, intrigued, Ziva looked impressed and McGee looked just a little scared, blinking as he asked, 'Mexico?'
Before Hale could answer, another man appeared beside him, Agent Ryan Cole, another of your team who you had quickly likened Tony too. A grin was plastered across his face as he loaded his sidearm. 'Long story. It involves a cartel boss, a storm drain, and a very creative use of duct tape.'
Tony's laugh filled the garage, 'Oh yeah thats Gibbs kind of woman,' nodding approvingly to himself.
Hale chuckled, nodding toward the two of you still bent over the map. 'Yeah. They’ve got that same thing, the instinct. See a scene once, and they already know how it’ll end.'
'I've never seen someone match her like that though,' Cole supplied, watching his team leader carefully.
'So,' Tony began, drawing the attention of the agents to him, taking up his unofficial role as chief gossiper of the team, 'tell us a bit about your boss.'
Hale and Cole shared a look, not deciding if they should talk about you, but clearly deciding what they would divulge. There faces seemed to convey a silent conversation until they landed on the right information.
'You know she used to train recruits at Quantico, right?' Hale begun.
'Really?' Tony asked, leaning ever so slightly closer as to not miss even a spec of information.
'Yeah, behavioural profiling, interrogation, deep-cover tactics. She's a master of undercover work. But she quit to go back into the field. She's got something you can't teach, most of her profiling is stuff you can't teach, or at least not easily, she says its a gut feeling.' Cole was clearly proud of his boss, his admiration for her was evident on his face.
The NCIS agents shared a smirk as those final words left Cole's mouth but didn't say anything. Their eyes met, conveying more that they could with words.
Your voice suddenly cut the silence, closer than any of the agents were expecting, 'when your done gossiping, we're heading out.' At this, the team suddenly came alive, adrenaline lacing the air as everyone began to move and you heard a faint laugh from Gibbs as he watched his team scatter.
Hale and Cole, however, waited until you reached them to greet you. Hale, grinning as he pulled you into a hug. Cole did the same before both agents stood just looking at you with those shit eating grins.
'So the silver fox of NCIS, huh?' Hale began, waggling his eyebrows as Cole let out a low whistle.
You shook your head, rolling your eyes, 'Shut up,' you shoved them gently towards the car, your tone clearly not bothered by them.
'Hey I see the appeal,' continued Hale, raising his hands in surrender.
'Yeah, watcha think boss, wanna be wife number five?' Cole finished.
You didn't give him an answer and moments later the engines roared to life, and the convoy rolled out of the garage.
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Gunfire had echoed through the old shipping warehouse minutes earlier, but now only the distant hum of sirens filled the air. The operation had gone smoothly at first, Graves’ men caught completely off guard. Your team had swept the upper level; Gibbs’ had cleared the floor below. It was all but done, then Graves and Beckett bolted.
'South corridor!' you shouted, already sprinting after the flash of his coat. Gibbs was right behind you, his footsteps steady even over the echoing concrete.
As you and Gibbs entered the dark room filled with rusted shipping containers, you exchanged a look the kind of silent communication, sweeping through the room looking for the two men you were determined not to let get away.
'Game’s over, Graves,' Gibbs called out into the darkness, weapon raised, voice calm but unrelenting.
For a second it was silent, then in an instant chaos erupted, Beckett tackling Gibbs, Graves slamming into you, knocking your weapon free. You hit the ground hard but rolled with it, letting instinct take over as you slammed Graves down using your weight to pull him with you. Gibbs was already moving, deflecting Beckett’s wild swing before driving him into the concrete wall.
By the time Tony, Ziva, McGee, and your agents came rushing in, weapons drawn, they froze at the sight before them. Graves and Beckett stood in front of them, both in cuffs while you and Gibbs stood behind them like nothing had happened.
Tony broke the silence first. 'Well… I see we missed the fun.' His slight chuckle made you smile, blowing a stray strand of hair from your face as you and Gibbs handed the two men to the agents to be taken away.
Gibbs shot you a sidelong look, and as you met his gaze you let our a breathy laugh, 'told you we'd end up using the cuffs, although that wasn't exactly how I imagined we'd use 'em.'
He holstered his weapon, this time the smirk on his face morphed into a full smile as he placed his hand on your shoulder leading you out of the warehouse.
As the pair of you watched the agents load the traffickers into a van, you and Gibbs exchanged a look that lingered a beat too long, respect, adrenaline, and something unspoken hanging in the air.
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The building was quiet again, the team having gone home, the adrenaline having worn off and in its wake a thick exhaustion hung in the air. That familiar hum of the overhead lights filling the silence. Gibbs sat at his desk, typing up a report, the faint clack of keys echoing through the room.
He didn’t look up right away when he heard footsteps, but he didn’t have to. He knew the sound, and he knew his team had already gone home.
'You really don’t go home, do you?'
Your voice carried that same teasing lilt as before, and when he finally looked up, you were leaning casually against the edge of his desk, cleaned up now, hair down, a faint trace of a smile tugging at your mouth that you couldn't contain.
'Paperwork doesn’t finish itself,' Gibbs said simply, eyes flicking back to the screen, though you watched as the corner of his mouth twitched.
Letting out a soft chuckle, you tilted your head, 'Guess not.' A beat passed. 'For what it’s worth… I enjoyed working with you.' There was a warmth that seemed to envelop you both.
His gaze lifted again, steady and unreadable, though that warmth permeated. 'You’re good at what you do.' It was a simple statement but softer than you had expected, and coming from Gibbs, even a simple statement meant something.
'I try,' you replied, that same grin from the first night slipping through. Then you straightened, reaching into your bag and placing his jacket on the desk in front of him.
'Thought you might want this back,' you stated simply.
He nodded, eyes on you, but said nothing.
Turning to leave, you paused. 'Goodnight, Agent Gibbs.'
He watched as the doors of the elevator closed behind you, the bullpen falling silent again.
A moment later, he picked up the jacket, folded carefully and lightly scented by your perfume. Something crinkled in the pocket.
He reached in, pulling out a business card, your card, the FBI seal was clean and official, but written across the bottom, in looping handwriting, was a phone number. No extension and no office line, just a number.
Gibbs stared at it for a moment, that rare half smile ghosting across his face. He slipped the card into his pocket, grabbed his coffee, and headed for the elevator.
