Fic: Hiatus Revisited. (2/6)
Gibbs startled awake the next morning. It was eerie to wake to complete silence. He could always hear the birds chirping, or an occasional car passing by, but hearing nothing, not even the occasional creak in his old house was a frightening feeling. Rolling toward his bedside, he was surprised to see that he had slept for over 14 hours. He was slow and stiff getting out of bed, and after a stop in the bathroom he headed down the stairs, surprised to find Abby sitting at his dining table, a huge plastic cup in one hand, a medical journal in the other. She glanced up at him with a smile as she took another long drink from her cherry red beverage and set down the journal she had been reading. ‘Sleep well? Hungry?’
Gibbs shook his head and sat opposite her. He was hungry, but he didn’t need her to serve him. He wasn’t an invalid just because he’d lost his hearing. Though whatever she’d already cooked smelled delicious.
Abby stood and moved to the kitchen. Because I already made pancakes, bacon and eggs.
Gibbs’ mouth watered. If it smelled delicious, it looked downright heavenly. Alright. I’ll eat.
I need to change the bandages first and have a look in your ears.
No
Then you can sit and let your stomach rumble.
Now that he’d admitted to himself that he was hungry, his stomach seemed to be joining Abby’s team. Rather than admit defeat, Gibbs pushed away from the table and headed back upstairs. If he couldn’t smell the food, he wouldn’t be hungry, right?
Abby hid her smirk 15 minutes later when Gibbs reappeared, and sat back down at the table where she had spread out the various medical supplies she would need. He kept his eyes closed and focused on his breathing while she tended to his burns. He hardly felt her fingers as they ghosted over his skin, and when she finally reapplied the bandages he was surprised that it had been taken care of so quickly.
When he opened his eyes again, he was surprised to see a plate with pancakes, bacon and eggs in front of him. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised that it tasted so good, but he was. Pondering over her all black attire, and the various tattoos he had seen, he didn’t think she spent much time in the kitchen, but apparently he was wrong. When he finished, he gazed longingly at the basement door, but Abby stepped into his line of sight and pointed back up the stairs.
Gibbs was irritated at this woman, walking into his life and dictating his every move. She decided when and what he ate, when he showered (and if he was allowed to shower rather than give himself a sponge bath), and when he was allowed out of bed and for how long. He decided the easiest way to get through was to ignore her. So he spent his days resting with his eyes closed, lost in his memories of Shannon and Kelly. He had been so close to being with his girls, he had seen them in the blast. They had held his hands while he waited for the medics. He had long given up on the idea of suicide - he knew Shannon wouldn’t approve, so he had hoped that this would have been his chance; killed in the line of duty.
For two days he ignored Abby, letting her change his bandages and eating the food in front of him without so much as lifting a finger to sign a response to her questions.
Abby put on a happy face when she was around him, but she was determined to figure out what, beyond his hearing loss, was causing him so much grief. She suspected it had something to do with the closed off room at the end of the hall. She had tried to talk to Ducky about it, but he was hesitant to break his friends’ trust, and Abby understood so she didn’t push for information.
She brought him his lunch on the third day of him ignoring her and decided that she’d had enough. She tapped lightly on his forehead, what’s going on in there?
He looked away, continuing to ignore her. “Hey!” Abby shouted even though she knew he couldn’t hear her, and slapped his hands forcefully causing him to jump, bringing his eyes to hers. I’m tired of you ignoring me.
Go away. It was the first thing he signed in three days.
Not until you tell me what’s going on in there. She reached to tap his forehead again, but he stopped her.
None of your business.
It has to do with that room at the end of the hall. Tell me, or I’ll break the door down.
Gibbs glared at her. Don’t.
Tell me.
Leave me alone.
Fine, I’ll find out for myself. Abby wasn’t surprised to find him following her. He placed himself between her and the door and the pleading look on his face was enough to stop her in her tracks. Why won’t you tell me?
Because I can’t.
Stop ignoring me. It’s depressing.
Ok.
Ok. Go eat your lunch. She would drop the subject, for now.
Gibbs nodded and headed back to his room. He grabbed the plate she’d brought him and took it down to the dining table. When he was finished he brought the plate to the sink and then looked to Abby. Basement?
What have you got hidden down there? Bodies?
Gibbs smiled briefly before resuming his neutral expression. He was irritated at himself for letting her make him smile. A boat.
Really?
Gibbs took that as a go-ahead to go down. He knew she was following, he could feel the staircase vibrating behind him as she followed him down. He got to the bottom of the step and ran his hand along the smooth planks of wood and then looked back at Abby.
You weren’t kidding! That’s a boat. That’s a big boat. How do you plan on taking it out? Abby laughed at the look he gave her. Somehow she figured that that was something he would never share. I’ll leave you to your boat. She was satisfied with the slight nod he gave her and she left him with his boat. Abby was exhausted. Even though she wasn’t doing much, her constant worrying over her patient was wearing her out. She figured he’d be down with his boat for an hour or two, so she headed upstairs for a nap.
Waking up an hour later, Abby wasn’t surprised that Gibbs was still downstairs in the basement. After peeking in on him, she went to the coffee maker and started it, knowing that Gibbs would likely want a cup. If the way Ducky had explained his coffee addiction was true, then Abby figured she could win him over through caffeine. It’s worth a shot, Abby smiled to herself. Pun intended.
Two steaming cups of coffee in hand, Abby headed down the basement steps. Gibbs had his back to her, so rather than disturb him, she parked herself on the bottom step and waited for the coffee to hit his nose.
It only took 32 seconds from the time she sat down until he glanced over his shoulder, allowing the briefest of smiles at the sight of fresh brewed coffee. He gratefully accepted the warm cup and leaned back against the boat, eyeing her curiously over the coffee.
You’ve got a Dr’s appointment tomorrow. Ducky will be here at ten in the morning to pick you up.
You aren’t going?
Abby shook her head, Ducky will fill me in. I figure you’re ready for a break from me.
Gibbs gave a slight shrug and turned back to his boat. He didn’t like the idea of a new doctor poking and prodding. He just assumed that Abby would be the only one caring for his wounds.
By the time she finished her cup of coffee Gibbs had long finished his. She half expected him to ask for a refill, but he seemed engrossed in his work on the boat, so she headed upstairs. She cringed when she stepped on the squeaky step, but then remembered he couldn’t hear and continued on.
Twenty minutes later Gibbs turned to ask her to hand him the sanding block that sat at the base of the step, but he was surprised to see her gone. Although he relied heavily on his gut, without his hearing he felt slightly more secure with Abby nearby so he could turn and sign, if he wanted. Not that he needed her, he was quite certain that he didn’t. But still, just in case.
Once he grew tired of his boat, he headed upstairs. He found Abby curled up on the sofa reading a book. He felt something strange rattle through his chest and when Abby looked up, he lifted his hands to sign. What’s that?
The music? Can you hear it?
No, I can feel it, he patted his chest, here.
Oh, I’ll turn it down. Sorry, I just figured… Abby jumped off the couch and turned her music down to a more manageable level. She was shocked when Gibbs pulled a book form the shelf and made himself comfortable right beside where she had been sitting. She hesitated briefly and then moved back to sit in her original spot.
When he was done with his book, he turned to watch Abby as she read. He studied her face, the way her long lashes brushed against her cheeks when she blinked, the curve of her cheek bones, and the sharp angle of her jaw. The more he observed her, the more he understood how he had allowed himself to mistake her as the angel of death. He figured angels were beautiful and she was dressed nearly head-to-toe in black (except for her rainbow socks).
Gibbs’ eyes traveled back to her face and he was surprised to see that she was staring at him.
What?
Your socks, they aren’t black. Gibbs couldn’t come up with anything else.
Abby smiled, a big grin that seemed to light up his living room. My mom gave them to me for Christmas last year.
It doesn’t exactly match the black.
Of course it does! Black matches everything.
Where did you learn to sign? Gibbs was suddenly curious.
Wow, you’ve got the interrogation thing down to an art, even if it’s with your hands.
Sorry, I just…
Abby pushed his hand down. No, it’s ok. You just haven’t signed more than four words to me in the past few days, I was just surprised that you wanted to know, that’s all. I learned to sign because both of my parents are deaf.
Oh, Gibbs had never thought about it. He figured she had just learned for her job.
My mom was born deaf and my dad lost his hearing in an accident when he was eight. Don’t feel bad for me, I don’t know any different; though it did make sneaking out as a teenager much easier than I would have liked. I enjoy a challenge, you know?
Gibbs had snuck out a time or two; his parents were always waiting up for him when he returned. Where are you from?
Middle of no-where, Louisiana.
That sparked more questions in Gibbs’ mind. Do you have an accent? He wondered what she sounded like. Did she have a stereo-typical southern accent? Was her voice high-pitched and squeaky, or was it low and gravely? Was she loud or quiet when she spoke? Did she talk as fast as she signed, or…?
Nah, not really, only when I’m angry.
-----
From what Ducky had told her, the specialist he had taken Gibbs to had been pleased with his recovery so far. Gibbs had returned home that afternoon and retreated to the basement without so much as a glance in Abby’s direction.
“How’d it go?”
Ducky rested his coat over the back of a chair at the dining table and sat down when Abby offered him a cup of coffee. “You know how he is, he doesn’t like to share personal information. The doctor was asking about his medical history and poking and prodding. And then there is the fact that they can’t pin-point when or if he will regain his hearing. It’s a lot to handle.”
Abby nodded and took a sip of her own coffee. “Are they giving him any sort of time-line?”
“They’ve said that if he hasn’t started to regain his hearing within three weeks they recommend looking into some more invasive procedures to reconstruct his ear drums. But not even the skin in his ear has healed yet, so it’s still a waiting game. He looks to be healing nicely though.”
“He does. He’d been putting up a bit of a fight, but we’ve gotten past all that. I just hope that all this with the doctor won’t set us back.”
“Yes.” Ducky nodded. “Has he said anything more about the explosion? I know Anthony DiNozzo would like to ask a few questions, they fear that this case is far from closed.”
“He hasn’t mentioned anything, but I haven’t pushed either. We’ve finally just gotten to a point where he isn’t ignoring me.”
“I believe Agent DiNozzo will give you a call this weekend. I think they would like for Jethro to come in for an hour or two to answer some questions. He might not like the idea, but I believe he will do it for his team. If he tries to protest, go ahead and give me a call. I’ll come over and see if I can pull rank.”
“Sounds good.” They chatted awhile longer, Ducky entertaining Abby with stories of his youth and time in medical school, happy to have someone genuinely interested in the tales of his past.
After they drained the last of the coffee pot, Ducky grabbed his coat and hat and wished Abby a wonderful evening. After locking up behind him, Abby turned to make another pot of coffee, certain that Gibbs would be wanting some. She hoped that if she cracked the basement door open just an inch, he’d smell the rich aroma and come up. She worried that his visit with the doctor had possibly set her progression back when it came to where she stood with Gibbs. It had taken her three days for him to look her in the eye and sign more than a simple one or two word response.
While the coffee was brewing she headed to the bathroom. When she returned, Gibbs was digging through the cupboard for his mug, the one he always used.
Hi. Wanna talk about it?
No.
Okay. But can I ask you a question?
Gibbs sighed, but nodded. She had made him coffee.
Will you go into NCIS next week? Ducky said Agent DiNozzo had some questions for you. I’ll go with you, if you like. So you don’t have to write everything down.
Gibbs shrugged. I’ll think about it.
----
As their first week together progressed, they managed to fall into an easy routine. Abby was glad that Gibbs seemed to warm up to her presence, if not enjoy her company. He still seemed to spend more time than necessary down in the basement with his boat, but he no longer protested when she needed to change the bandages or when she looked in his ears. He flinched slightly when her fingers grazed over the still tender areas of the side of his head, yet most of the burns on the outer shell of his ears had nearly healed, tender new pink skin replacing the blisters.
Abby spent the majority of her day surfing the net, catching up on reading and e-mailing old friends, but after nearly a week of nothing to do while Gibbs spent hours doing whatever he did in the basement, Abby was bored. The sun was shining, and it was evident that spring was here to stay. She found Gibbs in the basement, and rather than spook him, waited for him to notice her.
I was wondering, Abby’s fingers dropped and she fidgeted nervously for a moment before lifting her hands again. Well, I was thinking that, maybe, if you didn’t mind, I could clear out the flower beds in the front and then plant some flowers and stuff. You know, add a little color. I don’t have to; I just don’t have much to do with you down here and… She shrugged.
Gibbs was slightly shocked. He hadn’t meant to let the front yard fall into such disarray, but over the years the job has taken a hold of him and whatever free time he had, he preferred to spend it hiding from his demons in the basement. If you want. Don’t feel like you need to work around the house or anything.
Abby grinned. I just enjoy getting my hands dirty every now and again. I’m headed to the garden store then. I’ll be back in a bit. You can text me if you… Her hands stilled and she laughed at the look that Gibbs shot her. He didn’t know how to text, what was she thinking. Never mind. I’ll be back.
She bound up the stairs, and after a quick mental plan of what she needed, she grabbed the keys to her rental and her purse and headed down the street.
Strolling through the garden store, she loaded her cart with garden tools, fertilizer, and several plants meant for various amounts of sun. The last on her list was a small net of baby ladybugs. She wasn’t about to let aphids destroy her handiwork.
Back at Gibbs’ she put the coffee on to brew while she changed into something more conducive to outdoor work, and then took a cup of coffee down to Gibbs to let him know she was back.
She took her own cup of coffee outside, setting it down on the front step as she got busy pulling weeds along the walkway up to the front door.
Forty minutes into her work, Abby heard the front door open and then shut and she looked up to find Gibbs headed toward her, a rake in hand. She caught his eye briefly, but he wasn’t interested in signing, he just got to work, helping her clear the area of weeds. When they were done, he asked her if she had a plan for where each of the plants or flowers should go.
Grabbing a piece of paper inside, Abby sketched out her idea for where things should go and they spent well into the evening until all the plants were firmly in the ground.
---
Part Three
Gibbs shook his head and sat opposite her. He was hungry, but he didn’t need her to serve him. He wasn’t an invalid just because he’d lost his hearing. Though whatever she’d already cooked smelled delicious.
Abby stood and moved to the kitchen. Because I already made pancakes, bacon and eggs.
Gibbs’ mouth watered. If it smelled delicious, it looked downright heavenly. Alright. I’ll eat.
I need to change the bandages first and have a look in your ears.
No
Then you can sit and let your stomach rumble.
Now that he’d admitted to himself that he was hungry, his stomach seemed to be joining Abby’s team. Rather than admit defeat, Gibbs pushed away from the table and headed back upstairs. If he couldn’t smell the food, he wouldn’t be hungry, right?
Abby hid her smirk 15 minutes later when Gibbs reappeared, and sat back down at the table where she had spread out the various medical supplies she would need. He kept his eyes closed and focused on his breathing while she tended to his burns. He hardly felt her fingers as they ghosted over his skin, and when she finally reapplied the bandages he was surprised that it had been taken care of so quickly.
When he opened his eyes again, he was surprised to see a plate with pancakes, bacon and eggs in front of him. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised that it tasted so good, but he was. Pondering over her all black attire, and the various tattoos he had seen, he didn’t think she spent much time in the kitchen, but apparently he was wrong. When he finished, he gazed longingly at the basement door, but Abby stepped into his line of sight and pointed back up the stairs.
Gibbs was irritated at this woman, walking into his life and dictating his every move. She decided when and what he ate, when he showered (and if he was allowed to shower rather than give himself a sponge bath), and when he was allowed out of bed and for how long. He decided the easiest way to get through was to ignore her. So he spent his days resting with his eyes closed, lost in his memories of Shannon and Kelly. He had been so close to being with his girls, he had seen them in the blast. They had held his hands while he waited for the medics. He had long given up on the idea of suicide - he knew Shannon wouldn’t approve, so he had hoped that this would have been his chance; killed in the line of duty.
For two days he ignored Abby, letting her change his bandages and eating the food in front of him without so much as lifting a finger to sign a response to her questions.
Abby put on a happy face when she was around him, but she was determined to figure out what, beyond his hearing loss, was causing him so much grief. She suspected it had something to do with the closed off room at the end of the hall. She had tried to talk to Ducky about it, but he was hesitant to break his friends’ trust, and Abby understood so she didn’t push for information.
She brought him his lunch on the third day of him ignoring her and decided that she’d had enough. She tapped lightly on his forehead, what’s going on in there?
He looked away, continuing to ignore her. “Hey!” Abby shouted even though she knew he couldn’t hear her, and slapped his hands forcefully causing him to jump, bringing his eyes to hers. I’m tired of you ignoring me.
Go away. It was the first thing he signed in three days.
Not until you tell me what’s going on in there. She reached to tap his forehead again, but he stopped her.
None of your business.
It has to do with that room at the end of the hall. Tell me, or I’ll break the door down.
Gibbs glared at her. Don’t.
Tell me.
Leave me alone.
Fine, I’ll find out for myself. Abby wasn’t surprised to find him following her. He placed himself between her and the door and the pleading look on his face was enough to stop her in her tracks. Why won’t you tell me?
Because I can’t.
Stop ignoring me. It’s depressing.
Ok.
Ok. Go eat your lunch. She would drop the subject, for now.
Gibbs nodded and headed back to his room. He grabbed the plate she’d brought him and took it down to the dining table. When he was finished he brought the plate to the sink and then looked to Abby. Basement?
What have you got hidden down there? Bodies?
Gibbs smiled briefly before resuming his neutral expression. He was irritated at himself for letting her make him smile. A boat.
Really?
Gibbs took that as a go-ahead to go down. He knew she was following, he could feel the staircase vibrating behind him as she followed him down. He got to the bottom of the step and ran his hand along the smooth planks of wood and then looked back at Abby.
You weren’t kidding! That’s a boat. That’s a big boat. How do you plan on taking it out? Abby laughed at the look he gave her. Somehow she figured that that was something he would never share. I’ll leave you to your boat. She was satisfied with the slight nod he gave her and she left him with his boat. Abby was exhausted. Even though she wasn’t doing much, her constant worrying over her patient was wearing her out. She figured he’d be down with his boat for an hour or two, so she headed upstairs for a nap.
Waking up an hour later, Abby wasn’t surprised that Gibbs was still downstairs in the basement. After peeking in on him, she went to the coffee maker and started it, knowing that Gibbs would likely want a cup. If the way Ducky had explained his coffee addiction was true, then Abby figured she could win him over through caffeine. It’s worth a shot, Abby smiled to herself. Pun intended.
Two steaming cups of coffee in hand, Abby headed down the basement steps. Gibbs had his back to her, so rather than disturb him, she parked herself on the bottom step and waited for the coffee to hit his nose.
It only took 32 seconds from the time she sat down until he glanced over his shoulder, allowing the briefest of smiles at the sight of fresh brewed coffee. He gratefully accepted the warm cup and leaned back against the boat, eyeing her curiously over the coffee.
You’ve got a Dr’s appointment tomorrow. Ducky will be here at ten in the morning to pick you up.
You aren’t going?
Abby shook her head, Ducky will fill me in. I figure you’re ready for a break from me.
Gibbs gave a slight shrug and turned back to his boat. He didn’t like the idea of a new doctor poking and prodding. He just assumed that Abby would be the only one caring for his wounds.
By the time she finished her cup of coffee Gibbs had long finished his. She half expected him to ask for a refill, but he seemed engrossed in his work on the boat, so she headed upstairs. She cringed when she stepped on the squeaky step, but then remembered he couldn’t hear and continued on.
Twenty minutes later Gibbs turned to ask her to hand him the sanding block that sat at the base of the step, but he was surprised to see her gone. Although he relied heavily on his gut, without his hearing he felt slightly more secure with Abby nearby so he could turn and sign, if he wanted. Not that he needed her, he was quite certain that he didn’t. But still, just in case.
Once he grew tired of his boat, he headed upstairs. He found Abby curled up on the sofa reading a book. He felt something strange rattle through his chest and when Abby looked up, he lifted his hands to sign. What’s that?
The music? Can you hear it?
No, I can feel it, he patted his chest, here.
Oh, I’ll turn it down. Sorry, I just figured… Abby jumped off the couch and turned her music down to a more manageable level. She was shocked when Gibbs pulled a book form the shelf and made himself comfortable right beside where she had been sitting. She hesitated briefly and then moved back to sit in her original spot.
When he was done with his book, he turned to watch Abby as she read. He studied her face, the way her long lashes brushed against her cheeks when she blinked, the curve of her cheek bones, and the sharp angle of her jaw. The more he observed her, the more he understood how he had allowed himself to mistake her as the angel of death. He figured angels were beautiful and she was dressed nearly head-to-toe in black (except for her rainbow socks).
Gibbs’ eyes traveled back to her face and he was surprised to see that she was staring at him.
What?
Your socks, they aren’t black. Gibbs couldn’t come up with anything else.
Abby smiled, a big grin that seemed to light up his living room. My mom gave them to me for Christmas last year.
It doesn’t exactly match the black.
Of course it does! Black matches everything.
Where did you learn to sign? Gibbs was suddenly curious.
Wow, you’ve got the interrogation thing down to an art, even if it’s with your hands.
Sorry, I just…
Abby pushed his hand down. No, it’s ok. You just haven’t signed more than four words to me in the past few days, I was just surprised that you wanted to know, that’s all. I learned to sign because both of my parents are deaf.
Oh, Gibbs had never thought about it. He figured she had just learned for her job.
My mom was born deaf and my dad lost his hearing in an accident when he was eight. Don’t feel bad for me, I don’t know any different; though it did make sneaking out as a teenager much easier than I would have liked. I enjoy a challenge, you know?
Gibbs had snuck out a time or two; his parents were always waiting up for him when he returned. Where are you from?
Middle of no-where, Louisiana.
That sparked more questions in Gibbs’ mind. Do you have an accent? He wondered what she sounded like. Did she have a stereo-typical southern accent? Was her voice high-pitched and squeaky, or was it low and gravely? Was she loud or quiet when she spoke? Did she talk as fast as she signed, or…?
Nah, not really, only when I’m angry.
-----
From what Ducky had told her, the specialist he had taken Gibbs to had been pleased with his recovery so far. Gibbs had returned home that afternoon and retreated to the basement without so much as a glance in Abby’s direction.
“How’d it go?”
Ducky rested his coat over the back of a chair at the dining table and sat down when Abby offered him a cup of coffee. “You know how he is, he doesn’t like to share personal information. The doctor was asking about his medical history and poking and prodding. And then there is the fact that they can’t pin-point when or if he will regain his hearing. It’s a lot to handle.”
Abby nodded and took a sip of her own coffee. “Are they giving him any sort of time-line?”
“They’ve said that if he hasn’t started to regain his hearing within three weeks they recommend looking into some more invasive procedures to reconstruct his ear drums. But not even the skin in his ear has healed yet, so it’s still a waiting game. He looks to be healing nicely though.”
“He does. He’d been putting up a bit of a fight, but we’ve gotten past all that. I just hope that all this with the doctor won’t set us back.”
“Yes.” Ducky nodded. “Has he said anything more about the explosion? I know Anthony DiNozzo would like to ask a few questions, they fear that this case is far from closed.”
“He hasn’t mentioned anything, but I haven’t pushed either. We’ve finally just gotten to a point where he isn’t ignoring me.”
“I believe Agent DiNozzo will give you a call this weekend. I think they would like for Jethro to come in for an hour or two to answer some questions. He might not like the idea, but I believe he will do it for his team. If he tries to protest, go ahead and give me a call. I’ll come over and see if I can pull rank.”
“Sounds good.” They chatted awhile longer, Ducky entertaining Abby with stories of his youth and time in medical school, happy to have someone genuinely interested in the tales of his past.
After they drained the last of the coffee pot, Ducky grabbed his coat and hat and wished Abby a wonderful evening. After locking up behind him, Abby turned to make another pot of coffee, certain that Gibbs would be wanting some. She hoped that if she cracked the basement door open just an inch, he’d smell the rich aroma and come up. She worried that his visit with the doctor had possibly set her progression back when it came to where she stood with Gibbs. It had taken her three days for him to look her in the eye and sign more than a simple one or two word response.
While the coffee was brewing she headed to the bathroom. When she returned, Gibbs was digging through the cupboard for his mug, the one he always used.
Hi. Wanna talk about it?
No.
Okay. But can I ask you a question?
Gibbs sighed, but nodded. She had made him coffee.
Will you go into NCIS next week? Ducky said Agent DiNozzo had some questions for you. I’ll go with you, if you like. So you don’t have to write everything down.
Gibbs shrugged. I’ll think about it.
----
As their first week together progressed, they managed to fall into an easy routine. Abby was glad that Gibbs seemed to warm up to her presence, if not enjoy her company. He still seemed to spend more time than necessary down in the basement with his boat, but he no longer protested when she needed to change the bandages or when she looked in his ears. He flinched slightly when her fingers grazed over the still tender areas of the side of his head, yet most of the burns on the outer shell of his ears had nearly healed, tender new pink skin replacing the blisters.
Abby spent the majority of her day surfing the net, catching up on reading and e-mailing old friends, but after nearly a week of nothing to do while Gibbs spent hours doing whatever he did in the basement, Abby was bored. The sun was shining, and it was evident that spring was here to stay. She found Gibbs in the basement, and rather than spook him, waited for him to notice her.
I was wondering, Abby’s fingers dropped and she fidgeted nervously for a moment before lifting her hands again. Well, I was thinking that, maybe, if you didn’t mind, I could clear out the flower beds in the front and then plant some flowers and stuff. You know, add a little color. I don’t have to; I just don’t have much to do with you down here and… She shrugged.
Gibbs was slightly shocked. He hadn’t meant to let the front yard fall into such disarray, but over the years the job has taken a hold of him and whatever free time he had, he preferred to spend it hiding from his demons in the basement. If you want. Don’t feel like you need to work around the house or anything.
Abby grinned. I just enjoy getting my hands dirty every now and again. I’m headed to the garden store then. I’ll be back in a bit. You can text me if you… Her hands stilled and she laughed at the look that Gibbs shot her. He didn’t know how to text, what was she thinking. Never mind. I’ll be back.
She bound up the stairs, and after a quick mental plan of what she needed, she grabbed the keys to her rental and her purse and headed down the street.
Strolling through the garden store, she loaded her cart with garden tools, fertilizer, and several plants meant for various amounts of sun. The last on her list was a small net of baby ladybugs. She wasn’t about to let aphids destroy her handiwork.
Back at Gibbs’ she put the coffee on to brew while she changed into something more conducive to outdoor work, and then took a cup of coffee down to Gibbs to let him know she was back.
She took her own cup of coffee outside, setting it down on the front step as she got busy pulling weeds along the walkway up to the front door.
Forty minutes into her work, Abby heard the front door open and then shut and she looked up to find Gibbs headed toward her, a rake in hand. She caught his eye briefly, but he wasn’t interested in signing, he just got to work, helping her clear the area of weeds. When they were done, he asked her if she had a plan for where each of the plants or flowers should go.
Grabbing a piece of paper inside, Abby sketched out her idea for where things should go and they spent well into the evening until all the plants were firmly in the ground.
---
Part Three