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Re: A Christmas Kidnapping in Aspen

The front door closed with a solid, familiar thud.

Gibbs stood there a second longer than usual, keys still in his hand. Long day. Too many questions, not enough answers. He rolled his neck once, feeling the stiffness settle deep between his shoulders.

Then he smelled it.

Steak.

He set his keys down slowly and walked toward the kitchen, boots quiet against the floor. He stopped in the doorway.

Marie was at the stove, focused, moving with easy confidence. He didn't interrupt. He just leaned one shoulder against the frame and watched her for a moment.

Finally, low and rough from the day, he spoke.

"Smells good."

That was it. Simple. But softer than the day had been.

He stepped into the kitchen, setting his coat over the back of the chair. His eyes caught the porterhouse resting on the counter, the potatoes simmering, the careful details she'd put into it.

"You didn't have to go all out," he said, though there wasn't a hint of complaint in it.

He reached for the counter, bracing his hands there for a second, head bowed slightly. Exhaustion showed in the way his shoulders dipped.

"Long one," he admitted. He didn't elaborate. He rarely did. But the weight was in his voice.

When she moved closer, he didn't resist. When her hands found his shoulders, he let out a slow breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Tony talk too much?" he muttered dryly.

A faint smirk ghosted across his face before fading again.

He covered one of her hands with his, squeezing once. Grounding himself.

"You've been thinking," he said quietly, not looking at her yet. He knew her. Knew that tone in the air. Knew when she was working up to something.

His eyes finally lifted to hers.

"What's on your mind, Marie?"

No edge. No impatience.

Just tired honesty.

He stepped closer then, close enough that his forehead brushed hers lightly.

"If you're about to tell me I need a break..." he murmured, voice low but not unkind, "...you're probably right."

That was as close to surrender as Gibbs ever got.

He pulled back just enough to look at her properly.

"Where you thinking we go?"

Re: A Ride Along Brings an Exciting New Adventure

The truck hummed steadily down the dark stretch of road, headlights cutting through the quiet like a blade. Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't answer right away.

That wasn't unusual.

His jaw shifted slightly, that familiar muscle ticking in his cheek. One hand stayed steady on the wheel. The other rested near the gearshift, fingers flexing once like he was working something out in his head.

Finally, he exhaled slowly through his nose.

"I'm not mad at you, Marie," he said low and even. "Never was."

His eyes flicked toward her for just a second — soft, but guarded — then back to the road.

"I was thinkin'."

Another pause.

"About how much I hate not being able to fix this."

There it was.

Gibbs didn't cry. He didn't spiral. He didn't fall apart.

He got quiet.

He swallowed once before continuing.

"You're fighting somethin' I can't shoot. Can't arrest. Can't outsmart." His grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel. "And that doesn't sit well with me."

His voice wasn't angry.

It was frustrated. Controlled. Protective.

He glanced at her hand in her lap and then back at the road again.

"You think I don't see how tired you are?" he added quietly. "Think I don't notice when you fake a smile so I won't worry?"

He shifted lanes smoothly, the truck moving toward a more open stretch of highway.

"You don't have to fight for me," he said, softer now. "You fight for you. For us. That's enough."

When she asked where they were going, the corner of his mouth twitched — barely there, but real.

"I figured," he said calmly, "you've spent enough time in hospitals and doctors' offices."

A road sign flashed past.

"Thought we'd take a drive down to the water."

Another glance at her — this one lingering just a second longer.

"Cabin's empty. Weather's clear. No phones. No doctors." His tone softened even more. "Just you and me."

He slowed the truck slightly as the trees began to thicken around them.

"And before you ask," he added quietly, "I'm worried because I love you."

Simple. Direct. No poetry.

That was Gibbs.

He reached over without looking this time, finding her hand and squeezing it once — firm, grounding.

"You don't carry this alone either, Marie," he said. "Not while I'm still breathing."

Re: A Ride Along Brings an Exciting New Adventure

Gibbs kept his eyes on the road, jaw set the way it always was when his thoughts were louder than he wanted them to be. At her first question, the corner of his mouth twitched—almost a smile, but not quite.

"Rough day comes with the badge," he said quietly, voice steady, controlled. After a beat, he sighed and finally glanced at her, that familiar mix of concern and guilt softening his gaze. "But no... you didn't make me mad."

He slowed at a red light, drumming his fingers once on the steering wheel before continuing. "I get quiet when I'm thinking. Doesn't mean I'm angry. And it sure as hell doesn't mean I don't want you here." He looked at her again, this time longer. "I just worry. That's my problem, not yours."

The light changed and he pulled forward, then reached over briefly, resting his hand over hers for just a second—enough to reassure without risking distraction. "You didn't do anything wrong, Marie. I like knowing you're close. I just don't always know how to say that without sounding like an overbearing jerk."

A faint smirk appeared. "So... you're fine. I'm fine. And we're going where we're going together."

Re: A Ride Along Brings an Exciting New Adventure

Gibbs leaned back in his chair the moment she said "ride-along." He already felt the ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth—and of course she called him on it.

"Yeah, well... don't let it go to your head," he muttered, even though she absolutely would. His voice softened just a little. "And you're right. You're not ready to go back in there. So you're with me today. That's final."

He listened as she rambled about Tony and Elizabeth, and he shook his head with a quiet, amused huff.

"Good," he said firmly. "Because the last thing I need is DiNozzo showing off or you smacking him upside the head for looking at you wrong. You stick with me. No wandering. No taking statements. No playing hero. You hear me?"

But as she kept talking—getting lighter, brighter, sounding alive again—Gibbs felt that warmth bloom in his chest he'd never admit to anyone else.

"Yeah. Twenty minutes," he said, already reaching for his gear. "And Marie?"

His voice went low, that rough edge slipping through that he only ever gave to her.

"You don't do anything I tell you. You do exactly what I tell you. There's a difference."

She sent that little kiss over the phone and he froze for a second, eyes narrowing in that quiet way of his that meant she'd just hit him right in the center of his ribs.

"...I love you too," he said, soft, almost a growl. "Now hurry up. I'm waiting."

And with that, he hung up—smiling exactly the way she accused him of.

Re: A Ride Along Brings an Exciting New Adventure

There was a long exhale on the other end of the line — not frustrated, not annoyed... just resigned in that "you've already talked me into it, haven't you?" Gibbs way.

"Marie..." he warned gently.

But she could hear it — the smile he was trying very hard to hide.

"Alright," he finally muttered, voice low and rough. "Yeah. You can come on a ride-along."

Before she could celebrate, he continued, slipping right into protective-husband mode:

"But it's with me, not Tony. You stay where I tell you, you listen when I tell you, and you don't get out of the damn car unless I say so. Clear?"

Another beat. Softer. Almost affectionate.

"And Michael can yell at me later. I'll take that hit."

Then, warmer still:

"Go ahead and get ready, sweetheart. I'll pick you up in twenty."

Re: A Ride Along Brings an Exciting New Adventure

Gibbs answers the phone with that gravel-warm mix of stern and soft that only Marie ever hears:

"Yeah, Marie...?" His voice drops immediately into that gentler register—because he can hear it. That tiny boredom-edge in her breathing, the way she always calls when she's restless.

There's a rustle on his end, probably him stepping away from Tony and Michael so they don't eavesdrop.

"You okay?" he asks, not suspicious—just checking in. "Kids at school? You takin' it easy like you promised?"

She can practically feel him narrowing his eyes, already anticipating whatever scheme she's cooking up.

Then, softer:

"You sound bored."
A beat.
"What d'you need, Marie?"

He's not annoyed.
He's not too busy.
He's just waiting to hear her voice and what she's about to ask—because he already knows it's gonna be something.