Ashleigh Anpilova


A companion piece to A Minor Transgression.

An established relationship story.

Gibbs remembers his pet peeve.

Written: November 2006. Word count: 473.



Chimes, I hate them. Always have.


Don't ask me why. I don't know. It's illogical. There's just something about them that . . .


I remember the first time I spent the night at Duck's house.


We were in his bed, kissing, touching, making love, and then suddenly these chimes rang out around the house, shattering the mood and my making me jump a mile.


Duck was untroubled by them, guess he would be, they were in his home. And for once he seemed oblivious to my concerns, as he just went on kissing me, touching me, caressing me . . . Minutes later I had forgotten about them, I was so caught up in his loving.


But later . . .


I remember I didn't sleep that night. Every time I came close to dropping off, ‘bong, bong, bong'. And I'd be jerked fully awake again, heart pounding, body twitching.


I know how daft it sounds. Me, a Marine, used to the noise of battles and explosions, able to sleep on a ship in the middle of a storm or a plane being battered by gales, was disturbed by a damn chiming clock. But I was.


Didn't tell Duck. How could I? What could I say? ‘Oh, by the way, Ducky, can you stop your clock from chiming, please, it bothers me'. Yeah, I can just see me saying that.


He would have done it though; I know that. He'd have got up and done it immediately. Would probably even have sold the clock. He's been far too good to me over the years has my Ducky; better than I deserve.


I told myself that I'd get used to it; that I had to. I just didn't know how. It was the sound, it grated on me, it set my teeth on edge, it . . . It irritated me, even more than DiNozzo does at times, and that's saying something.


For a while I remember that I found myself making excuses not to stay at him home, and he always accepted them. But I could see how much it was hurting him. So I had a talk with myself, told myself that I had two choices: get used to the damn chimes or . . . Or give up Ducky.


There was no contest.


I'm not saying that they don't still annoy me at times, that I'd rather not be bonged at, especially when we're making love. But, when you're in love, when you love someone the way I love my Ducky, you have to make allowances. It's all about compromises. Of learning to live together. Of learning to put up with one another's quirks.


And at the end of the day, it's really only a small compromise. And look at what I get because I was willing to make it.



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