Dropping her third spoonful of sugar into her mug, Sloane slowly stirred, as if hurrying would disrupt the peaceful calm of the early morning. Inhaling deeply of the sweet, black brew, she walked over to her living room window. She loved to see green out her window, instead of the grey that filled so much of the city. Gazing out, she couldn't help but feel blessed as she enjoyed the view of the yearly bloom of the cherry blossom trees. It must have rained last night; she thought with a smile of gratitude, looking at the glistening, pale pink buds that covered the trees that lined the park. Their beauty was displayed for all to enjoy. It was a hopeful sign that warmer weather wasn't the only thing spring would be bringing this year.

Soft jazz music filled her room as she nestled down into the cushions of her favorite reading spot. Setting her mug down, she picked up her latest book. Eager to continue reading, as she'd been forced to stop when she had been called into work for a case last Saturday. The case had kept her busy all week, profiling the stack of suspects they had. She came home each night to catch a few hours of sleep, a shower, and a change of clothes. That was it. Then it was back to the office. The book had been sitting on her side table, calling her name all week. Now, she was set. The case was solved, and she had the weekend off work. Jazz music, a warm blanket, hot coffee, and her book. She could think of only one more addition that would make this the perfect Saturday.

‐-

Gibbs opened his front door to grab the newspaper that would go with his morning coffee. If the strong aroma coming from the kitchen could be trusted, he was confident it was finished brewing. Not finding the paper in its usual place, he walked down the steps to continue the search. Grumbling, when he noticed where the neighbor kid had managed to land the paper. It had landed in a muddy puddle under the rhododendron bush, missing his porch entirely with the throw. A streak of irritation flashed across his brow as he picked it up from the mud. "Apparently it rained last night," he groused. Shaking what dirt and water he could off the paper, he headed back inside. As he walked, he acknowledged that a bit of dirt never killed anybody, and he still had his hot coffee waiting for him.

Grabbing the pot, he filled his mug. He headed towards the small kitchen table to enjoy his stomach burner and the sports section of his slightly damp, but still readable newspaper. His relaxation lasted the time it took him to swallow his first gulp. Face horrified and disgusted at what he had just drunk, he returned to the kitchen, dumping what others would call 'coffee' down the drain. Inexplicably he must have set the timer wrong on the coffee maker the night before. How else could he explain the watered-down atrocity he had just tasted?

In his defense, he barely remembered driving home last night. Let alone, setting the timer on the coffee pot, before he had crashed onto the couch for some much-needed rest. Having worked the past eight days, he barely had time to collide body to cushion for a few hours of restless slumber each night, not to mention a shower and fresh clothes. All he wanted with his morning off was to drink some hot, black sludge, and see how The Nationals had performed on opening day. Grabbing the coffee tin, he went to start the process all over again, only to stop and stare inside the canister in disbelief. It was empty. "You have got to be kidding me," he shouted, tossing the empty tin onto the counter. With a sigh, he opened the fridge and grabbed the milk.

His knees groaned in pain at him as he dropped back down into the chair at the kitchen table. Picking up his paper, he tried to induce his body to relax and enjoy his morning. Turning to the sports page, he started reading again; Nationals Lose in the 9th!. With disgust, he tossed the mocking paper aside. Today was going to be a miserable Saturday.

The milk wasn't going to do it, and his head was pounding. He needed coffee now. He wasn't planning on leaving the house today, but this was an emergency. Pulling his red USMC sweatshirt on over his white t-shirt and slipping on his shoes, he grabbed his keys to the truck. He headed to the one place that he knew could solve his problem; The Diner.

CLOSED! Due to damage sustained in recent criminal activity, The Diner is closed. Sorry for the inconvenience. ~Management

He should have realized two weeks was not enough time to get the Diner back up and running. Wow! Had it been two weeks since he was last here getting coffee and a fill-up of his coffee canister? Now what, he wondered, climbing back into the truck. He could think of only one other place that would have what he needed. A smile pulled at his lips as he started the truck; maybe this wouldn't be such a bad Saturday after all.

The heaviness of the blanket and gentle, musical waves of the vintage record player, left Jack feeling the most relaxed she had felt in months. As Jack escaped into the world of the daring heroine, she found it to be the perfect antidote to relieve tension building in her body over the past week. A mischievous smile crossed her face as she thought of something, or better yet, someone, she was sure could alleviate the tension even better than her book and music. She was positive he had been having an equally stressful few months at work. Given his team were the only family he had left, and the near-death circumstances they had been putting themselves through recently. It seemed to her; they had been dealing with one extreme case after another.

Had it only been two weeks since Kassie and Palmer and almost been killed while trying to thwart diamond smugglers? Then, there had been Torres getting run off the road, and Ellie threatening to go vigilante on the suspect's ass. With Torres fighting for his life in the hospital, she had found it excruciatingly painful watching Gibbs and his team struggle as they were unable to hold the perpetrator responsible. At the time, Jack was fearful that Gibbs would lose control and apply his moral code of conduct justice to the suspect. In the end, she still wasn't positive who had killed the suspect. Thankfully, she did know who was not responsible for killing him. It had taken something else entirely for her to come to that realization.

She had confided to Gibbs about Faith's biological father, and the circumstances surrounding her pregnancy. She had seen a wave of anger that looked, to her, like he may be capable of killing again in the act of protective justice. Ultimately, her confidence was restored when he not only listened to her feelings but respected her request to let her handle it. He stood by her, well sat in the truck, as she confronted the bastard and then had a heart-to-heart with Faith. It had been a simple gesture but had eased her heart nonetheless. She was grateful for the new band of trust their relationship had built. It had taken her revealing her most private pain to him, and seeing his reaction to the pain, to acknowledge that he had changed. He has made such growth since they had met three years ago. She should remember to thank Grace during her next session.

Yes, she was convinced that he had no part in the death of Xavier Zolotov. That didn't mean the case hadn't left its scars on the team. She was still worried about Ellie's lack of control and the anger she had seen. Ellie's response to the entire situation had not set well with Jack. She was hesitant to bring it up to Gibbs, given his reaction the first time they had discussed it. She knew he was protective of his agents, his family. Her adoration for him had only grown with this knowledge. With a smile, she remembered the difference in how he had responded the last time she had given him advice he might not want to have heard.

"Try to connect with her first, before you, um, act like you," she had told him, right before he went to talk with a witness who had lost her brother to murder. Smiling, she recalled the deceptively penetrating stare he had leveled her with as he walked over to talk to the witness. Taking her advice, he had connected with the witness immediately. Grinning, Jack pondered if she should let him know how ineffective that look is on her. She laughed; it had the opposite effect she was sure he meant it to have. Hmm, I wonder what he is doing with his Saturday off, she thought.

Reaching for her cell, she decided she'd give him a call. I'm merely checking in on a friend, she told herself. With a smirk, she whispered, "If I can get him over here to enjoy this relaxing day with me, all the better."

Disappointed, Jack set the phone down. It wasn't like him not to answer a call from her. Rule #3, Never be Unreachable, was his rule after all. "What are you up to?" she quickly texted out to him, knowing full well he would never text her back, but hoping he would see it and return the call.

Turing the corner onto Jack's street, he felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket. "They better not be calling me in on my day off again," he griped, refusing to answer the phone while still driving. Not that it would surprise him to be called in. Lately, it felt like all he had been doing was working and stressing about his agents. Usually, he would enjoy heading into the office and refocusing his frustrations to a new case. Recently it felt the cases had been taking a significant toll on him mentally. Why did all these cases have to involve the well-being of his family? He barely had time to recover from almost losing Torres. Along with the uncomfortable conversation, he and Jack had about his team's mental stability. And then Kassie and Palmer were damn near killed trying to be agents. Thankfully, he admitted they did a damn excellent job. Even though Gibbs would have preferred they stayed in their lab and morgue where he knew they would be safe. He only hoped they had taken his advice and checked in with Grace or Jack.

As scared as it made him to think about losing another family member, he had to remember to thank Grace for the growth he was making. It would seem her sessions had been having a positive effect on his life. Much as he hated giving her credit at the beginning, he could freely admit it now. Yes, he had come to realize the benefit of talking to someone has had on his life. Smiling, he realized Grace wasn't the only one he had been talking to that had been having a positive effect on him.

There was little doubt that had he been going through these trying times three years ago; he would be bottle deep in bourbon, working alone in his basement on another boat. Instead, he was sitting in the driveway of Jack's condo and seeking out not only coffee; but also those beautifully expressive eyes, a dazzling smile, and witty conversation that he was now accustomed to seeing and hearing. For whenever he would see her smile and hear her words of wisdom and comfort, they would set everything at ease. Yes, they could help improve this Saturday, he thought, with a twinkle in his eyes.

Flipping his phone open, he held it laughably close to his eyes, trying to bring into focus the numbers on the screen. To his surprise and delight, Jack's name was on his display, not the agencies. Smirking, he saw she had even sent him a text. Maybe she wanted to see him, as much as he wanted to see her. "Here's hopin'," he said, as he climbed the stairs, can in hand, to knock on her door.

Jack stood up, stretching the kinks out of her neck and legs that gathered as she'd sat with her feet curled under her reading. Glancing up at the clock hanging above the fireplace, she smiled in surprise as she realized she had been reading for the better part of the morning.

Maybe it was time to tackle the other items on her to-do list, she thought. A free Saturday wouldn't be coming around again for at least five weeks. So, she figured she ought to make the best of the day. Along with the typical house chores she had put off for the last week, she also really needed to deal with her temperamental washing machine.

The damn thing had a slow leak that had her concerned. The dripping had increased in volume during the last three loads of laundry she had run. She felt like she may be tempting fate to continue washing her clothes with it.

A leaking washing machine she could fix. However, if it became much more extensive and soaked into her upstairs floorboards rotting them. . . Well, she wasn't as confident she would be able to fix that on her own. She would need to call in a carpenter if it came to that. With a smile, she realized, I do know a pretty handsome handyman that is known for his knowledge of carpentry. "If he would just answer his damn phone," she groused.

Last night she had attempted looking under the washing machine to find the source of the leak. However, she was having difficulty propping it up and looking under it at the same time. She would need to run to the hardware store today to find something to stabilize it up with, and then she could fix it.

"But first coffee," she said, looking into her empty cup. Heading towards the kitchen to get a refill, she paused mid-way there by the loud knock she heard coming from the front door. Switching directions, she headed to answer it, peeking through the spy hole to see who it could be. To her delight and surprise, she saw no other than the man she had been thinking on all morning. Her stomach flipped with pleasure at the sight of him, looking damn adorable standing there in his USMC sweatshirt. He was impatiently rocking back and forth on his heels, holding what appeared to be a can. Looking down at her clothes, she paused and pulled her hand away from the doorknob, realizing what she was wearing. She momentarily considered running upstairs and changing into something a little more respectable for the company. But then she stopped herself. It was Saturday and her home.

After all, she had been trying to get into his personal space for almost two years, maybe seeing her in her weekend clothes would be a subtle way to do just that, she thought with a grin. Before she had time to reach back and open the door, the doorbell went off several more times. Geez, someone is in an impatient mood, she thought.

This is a mistake he told himself as soon as he knocked on the door. He convinced himself Jack would want some peace after the hectic days they had just gone through at work. Why would she want company, let alone his grumpy unannounced company? Furthermore, it was the only free Saturday any of them would have for the next five weeks. Although his door was always open to unexpected visitors, it didn't mean that she would welcome them too.

She could still be sleepin'; he told himself when she didn't immediately answer the door. Looking down at his watch, he was surprised to see how late it was.

"Can't believe it's 11 o'clock, and I still haven't had my coffee," he gripped.

His headache reminded him of why he needed to succeed at the task at hand. So taking said hand and not waiting quite as patiently as he had intended, he rang the doorbell twice. Just in case Jack hadn't heard the previous knock or ring.

"Morning Gibbs," she said, opening the door. "What brings you to my door today?" she continued as she gave her most dazzling smile, her attempt to wash the grump from his face.

Holding up the empty coffee tin, he gruffly replied, "Coffee. Ran out, and the damn Diner's still closed. Yer the only one I could think of that buys their coffee from the Diner."

"Ah, I see," she smiled, nodding. "Well, you're just in time; I was just getting ready to refill my cup," she said, holding up her empty mug. "Come on in."

Thankful to be so close to finally getting his coffee, Gibbs obediently followed behind her to the kitchen. With a start, he stopped and gave out a short chuckle. Taking a moment, he sheepishly enjoyed the view as Jack went up on tiptoe to reach something from the top of the kitchen cupboard.

"Eyes off my six, Gunny," Jack quipped, as she finally reached what she was looking for from the back of the cupboard and brought down a coffee mug for Gibbs.

Stepping behind her, Gibbs replied, "Maybe you shouldn't have giant letters printed on your ass Jack if you don't want me lookin'." With a shrug, he continued, "Probably would've still looked if they weren't there. If I'm honest, not having ARMY staring back at me would've been preferable."

"Not that I'm complaining mind you," he warmly added.

Holding her breath at his sudden closeness, Jack couldn't help the shudder that ran through her body as his breath hit her neck. Did he realize how close he was and how it was affecting her? Loosening her grip on the mug she had clutched to her chest, Jack turned around to face his confident smirk. Oh, he knew precisely what his proximity was doing to her. Well, two could play that game.

"We don't always get what we want, though, do we?" Jack sweetly smiled, pushing the mug into his chest.

Turning, she grabbed the coffee pot and walked away from him over to the table, making sure there was a subtle swing to her hips and those ARMY letters.

Peeling his eyes away before he got caught again, Gibbs laughed as he looked at his black mug with big white letters shouting ARMY at him.

Sitting down at the table to the sound of Jack's laughter Gibbs held out the mug. "No one finds out about this, Jack," he threatened, with a glare.

"Oh, I don't know Gibbs," she teased. "I think it's time you admit your appreciation for the Army and how prepared their men and women are," she laughed, dangling the coffee pot in front of him.

"Oh, I appreciate Army women, Jack," he huskily replied, looking directly into her eyes.

His penetrating gaze showed his words were more than just jest, and Jack felt the laughter die off her lips, as a warm flush covered her cheeks. Trying to regain her footing, and not ready to face the reality of his look or words, Jack ignored the comment and instead asked, "What's the coffee worth to you?"

"Jaaack," was all he said.

It was amazing how much he could convey with just one word. Taking pity on his desperate plea for coffee, and ignoring the question in it, Jack relented and filled his mug with the steaming rich brew, then filled her own.

Stunned by the speed in which he gulped down the hot coffee, Jack could only stare. His need for caffeine outranked anything else he may have wanted. With a sigh of contentment and a serene smile, Gibbs held out his mug for a refill. Chuckling, Sloane shook her head as she filled the cup.

After taking another long drink, Gibbs momentarily satisfied, set his mug down, leaned back in his chair, and cheekily asked, "So, Jack, what did you have in mind for payment?"

Taking him a bit by surprise, she responded, "What kind of knowledge do you have on washing machines?"

"Washing machines?" Gibbs asked incredulously.

"Yup," Jack replied, trying to hide her laughter at the disappointment on his face.

"Well, I own one, Jack. Know how to use it," Gibbs continued, trying to adjust to the swift change in topics and the disappointment he was feeling. "What exactly do you need to know?" he asked, staring as Jack scooped her third spoonful of sugar into her coffee. How such an ordinarily reasonable person could ruin such an exceptionally well-made beverage with that atrocity was beyond him. Shaking his head, he brought his attention back to what Jack was, sadly, saying about her washing machine instead of what his thoughts had been envisioning.

"It's been leaking a lot lately when I use it. Recently, the leak's getting more significant. I was trying to see under it to see what might be causing the leak. However, I'm having a hell of a time trying to prop the thing up and look under it at the same time. I was planning on heading out to the hardware store today to buy some blocks," she finished explaining. As an afterthought, she added, with a grin, "Lucky me, it looks like the hardware store's come here instead."

Sipping his coffee, Gibbs couldn't help the smile that crept out as he shook his head at her brazen attempt to get him to do her manual labor.

"Suppose I could take a look at it," he shrugged as he stood, at the same time trying to hide the pleasure of the probable potential of getting to stay to spend more time with Jack, even if it was work. Yes, this Saturday was getting better by the moment, he thought.

"There's no rush," Jack replied, smiling up at him from her seat at the kitchen table. "Sit, enjoy the coffee, we have all afternoon to look at it," Jack urged, waving her hand down towards the chair he had just vacated. Taking in his relaxed features as he sunk back down into the chair, Jack couldn't help but tease him about his earlier mood.

"Glad to see your mood has turned around," she commented, noticing the smile he had been trying to hide. Shaking her head, Jack continued, "Can't believe all this time all I had to do to get you in a better mood while at work, was to supply you with Diner coffee. The fights we could have avoided," she laughed, locking eyes with his with a flirtatious twinkle.

"My mood change has a bit more to do with the company, Jack, than the coffee," Gibbs warmly replied, meeting her gaze. "Damn good coffee, though," he nodded, smiling and lifting his mug in a salute of thanks.

Suddenly shy, she softly responded, "Well, I know this guy who lets me in on his secrets. Told me I should buy my coffee grounds from this Diner we go to."

"Sounds like someone you'd want to keep around," Gibbs answered as he shifted in his chair, moving it and himself a bit closer to Jack.

"He's alright," she teased, continuing, "Doesn't talk as much as me, but he has other qualities I enjoy." "Then, there are other qualities I've been hoping I'll get the opportunity to enjoy," Jack boldly said. She met his unrelentingly, intoxicating gaze, with an intimate one of her own. Then, leaned towards him in encouragement, amazed at how quickly the tension in the room had turned electric.

Leaning forwards, Gibbs paused for a moment, searching deep chocolate orbs, and seeing the yearning in them that he knew was reflected in his tender look. With deliberate slowness, giving her the chance to pull away, and himself the opportunity to gain courage, Gibbs closed the rest of the distance between them.

Resting one hand on the back of Jack's chair, the other hand cupped Jack's right cheek as he leaned forward. Ghosting his lips, first, over her left cheek, then down her jaw, he continued to the corner of her mouth. Until, finally, he let his soft, needy lips cover hers, in a sweet, tender kiss.

She knew they would be soft, his lips. She simply didn't realize how gentle his hands would be, too. As his hands softly caressed her cheeks and found their way into her hair, he continued soft ministrations on her lips. She was in heaven.

Ending the kiss, he slowly sat back in his chair, "Beautiful," was the only word he could piece together, taking in the blush on Jack's cheeks and her soft closed eyes.

Seeing the sweet smile spread across Jack's face, Gibbs couldn't help but lean in once more, this time deepening the kiss as he explored the taste of her bottom lip, running his tongue over it. Jack's whimper and the grip she had on his sweater was all the encouragement he needed to continue his exploration of her lips and mouth.

Jack returned his exploration with her own. Her tongue pressed at his lips for entry. She discovered if she bit lightly on his lower lip, she could get him to moan in a way that made her never want to stop. She could taste hints of strong coffee on his lips, as she ran her tongue across his mouth, soothing where she had just bitten. As an afterthought, Jack realized she needed to thank the coffee gods that had brought Gibbs to her door this morning. This time, Jack was the one to break the kiss, her lungs aching for oxygen.

Looking at each other and breathing deeply, Gibbs reached out to caress Jack's cheek. "Sure am glad I ran out of coffee today, Jack." "Turned out to be a damn fine Saturday." With a chuckle, he continued, clearing his suddenly dry voice, "So, you gunna show me this washing machine?"

"Later, I'll show you later," Jack grinned, capturing his lips with her own once more. ~End