Gibbs rule #12 starts to have less purpose when Melissa Peters starts feeling the chemistry between her and Timothy McGee. Melissa is always cooped up in Abby's lab. Trying to do her job and keep her personal life as far away from the lab as possibl...
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I didn't ask any questions when Gibbs lead me to his car. I didn't even think of any when we got in the car besides, where are we going?
He and I were silent the whole ride. He likes it that way. That's the one thing I can tell.
When we got to his house, he opened the door for me. I didn't know where to go but of course he knew where he wanted me to be placed.
"Table." He points.
I make my way over there.
I hear him go down the stairs to his basement. I take a seat and look around as if I've never been here before. I have. It just fascinates me that I haven't been here in so long, and everything looks the same. Nothing looks out of place and nothing has been added.
I look over at the couch and it looks as if he was sleeping there again. When I came over the last time, it looked like he slept there the night before as well. It's where he sat when we watched the movie. I wonder if he always knows that something is going on and he sleeps there because it makes him feel better?
No, Melissa. Don't be stupid and don't over think things.
I hear him come up the stairs and straighten my body out.
He comes from around the corner with a towel and a bottle of alcohol.
If his intention was to get drunk, I would have told him to have whatever the hell Abby was drinking. I wonder when I will get the phone call that she's awake and home. That might not be a while from now.
He sits down and takes the wrap off of my hand. I cringe at the feeling of it peeling off my flesh. Gibbs doesn't show any reaction.
Once the wrap it off, he puts a little alcohol on the towel. He hands me the bottle to hold.
"Take a sip."
Is this a remedy? I could get used to it.
He notices that I'm questioning him. "Take a sip."
I bring the bottle to my lips since he insists. The moment it hits my lips, he presses the towel with alcohol on it on my wounds.
I almost spit out the alcohol but force myself to not only drink the amount that was already in my mouth, but more that follows.
He takes the towel off and examines the wound.
I'm able to catch my breath after the burning sensation goes away in my throat.
"What was that! Is this how you treat all your wounds?"
I can see a smirk on his face, but he won't look at me. "I don't get wounds."
"I'm guessing that's why you don't have a first aid kit."
"You're drinking my first aid kit."
I laugh but not for long before he has me drinking again. "Sip."
