"One Sunday", for sundance201

[melanie-anne.livejournal.com]

Title: One Sunday
Author: melanie_anne
Written for: sundance201
Archive: Sure.
Pairings: Gibbs/Kate.
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: One random Sunday in the lives of a couple.

Sunday morning. The first rays of sunlight are just beginning to peek through the gap in the curtain when she slips from the bed. She picks up their discarded clothing on the way to the bathroom, where she drops it into the laundry basket.

The warm shower rinses away any remnant of sleep, and she returns to the bedroom, towel-drying her hair before she hops back onto the bed and straddles the man still sleeping on it.

"Morning," she says cheerfully, then gives him a quick peck on the cheek. "You know it's a sign that you're getting old when you struggle to get up in the mornings."

"Old?" He growls then rolls over, trapping her beneath him. She's wearing nothing but a towel, and there's mischief in his expression as his hands slip under it.

"Gibbs, we can't – I'll be late for church."

"You started." He kisses her neck. "You shouldn't have jumped on me."

"Gibbs, please."

"Please, what, Katie?"

She sighs, distracted by his touch. Then he stops, and she glares at him.

"What? You'll be late for church." He gives her ass a light smack as she climbs off the bed.

"You could come with me." She pulls a dress from the closet and slips it on, then walks back to Gibbs so he can do up the zipper.

"If I have to think about you not wearing any underwear in a church, I think lightning might strike me down."

She laughs, takes out a pair of panties from the drawer and steps into them. She pulls them up slowly, teasing Gibbs. "What's your excuse now?"

He smiles. "I have a boat to build."

She grabs his hand as he moves past her, and claims another kiss before releasing him. "Go build your boat. I'll see you when I get back."

* * *

He's in the basement when she gets home. She watches him from the bottom of the stairs for a moment; he's wearing a sweatshirt that she keeps meaning to throw out, he's covered in dust and sweat, and when he looks at her and smiles, she thinks he's the most handsome man she's ever been with.

"How was church?" He stops sanding the wood, giving her his full attention.

She walks across the room and hands him the mug of coffee she'd brought down. "Good. Abby says hi."

"Hi." He sips the coffee, then sets it on a bench and slides his hands around Kate's waist. The dust shows up against the black of her dress, and she wonders if he likes that he's marked her.

She knows she does, and wonders if that makes her any less of a feminist. She doesn't care; she likes being Gibbs' woman.

"Been down here all morning?" she asks.

"Yeah."

She smiles and slips her hand in his. "Come on. I'll make lunch; you get cleaned up."

He runs a finger along her cheek, streaking dust on her skin. "You're dirty too."

"Mm-hmm."

He nips her earlobe, his breath tickling her as he speaks. "Wash my back? I'll make it worth your while."

Lunch can wait, she thinks.

* * *

Early afternoon finds them in the living room. Kate's reading Memoirs of a Geisha; she refuses to see the film until she finishes the book. They're on the couch, her feet in his lap as he works on a crossword puzzle.

It's all so domestic, and neither of them would have ever imagined themselves like this. But it's routine now, and it feels like forever and yesterday all at once.

She turns the page and glances up to find him looking at her. There's an expression on his face that she recognizes but is afraid to name. She smiles uncertainly. "Stuck with a word?"

He shakes his head and angles the paper to show her the finished crossword. Then he takes her foot in his hand and runs his thumb along the sole. She's not ticklish, and her smile widens. She flexes her foot.

Suddenly he pulls her onto his lap. "I love you."

"Oh." Her book tumbles to the floor, and she doesn't know what to say. "Just like that?"

"You sound surprised." There's wariness in his tone, and a hint of disappointment. She knows how much it took for him to be able to say the words.

"It's a good surprise." She kisses him; she feels sixteen again and this is her first love, and her heart is so full she thinks it will burst. When she pulls back, she's grinning. "I love you, too."

The words are easier for her to say. Then again, she admitted it to herself long before they were even together.

"Tell me again," she says.

* * *

A pale beam of moonlight spills into the room. It is the only illumination, but neither Kate nor Gibbs even notice.

He brushes her hair away from her face, his touch lingering. He peppers her face with kisses, each one lasting longer, more sensual than the one before. He catches her lower lip between his teeth. She arches beneath, wanting more, wanting everything.

He moves to her neck. His fingers dance along her collarbone, mapping the expanse of her skin as they move lower. The ghost of a touch over her breasts, and she gasps.

His mouth is on her stomach, his tongue teasing her bellybutton. Her hand cups the back of his head so he cannot move away.

Time slows, and all there is this; a man and a woman, and heat and love.

Afterwards, he watches her sleep, and wonders why he fought this. Now that she's in his life, he cannot imagine it any other way. He thinks of all the time wasted; these days he can't even remember what his excuses were.

"I love you," he whispers, and now it's the easiest thing in the world to say.

She stirs, a smile touching her lips.

He wraps himself around her, and follows her into sleep.