A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME
Gibbs finally realizes what a home really is.
An established relationship story.
Written: June 2009. Word count: 300.
"Hey, Duck. I'm ho-" Jethro came to an abrupt halt as he stood in the doorway of his house and stared. He was tempted to go back outside and make sure he was in the right house.
"Ah, Jethro. Welcome home," Ducky called, hurrying out into the hall. He stopped in front of Jethro. "Jethro?" His tone was less exuberant. "Is something wrong, my dear?"
Jethro shook himself and looked down at a somewhat ill at ease looking Ducky. He gathered Ducky into his embrace. "Course not, Duck. I was just -" He broke off. "Nothing. It's . . . You've been busy."
Ducky leaned into the embrace, his head rested against Jethro's shoulder. "Yes, I'm afraid the days went even more slowly than I'd anticipated. I do hope you're not . . ." He moved back, and gazed up at Jethro; he still looked somewhat ill at ease.
"Not what, Duck?"
Ducky glanced away. "Well, it is your home. I know I am now . . . But it is still essentially your home. I should have -"
Jethro shook his head. "No, Duck," he said, his tone low. "It was my house. Now it's our home."
"Hasn't been a home since - Ah, you know, Duck." And it hadn't been. Suddenly standing there in the hall Ducky had given a new lease of life to, Jethro realized he hadn't had a home for far too long. He'd just had a house. Now he had a home.
Now he and Ducky had a home. He gathered Ducky closer and kissed him.
"So," he said, finally releasing Ducky. "You made any more changes I should know about?"
Ducky's eyes twinkled; all the ill at ease signs had fled. "One or two."
"Any in the bedroom?"
Ducky smiled. "Why do you not come with me and find out?" He held out his hand.
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