Clothing Optional Part 1

Date: 2012-08-11 10:17 pm (UTC)
2. mundygd A sequel to "Model". Please.

Sequel to http://taylorgibbs.livejournal.com/102508.html?view=1133932#t1133932

They wrapped up at the crime scene at oh one hundred, and they were all dragging. Gibbs sent Burley, Ducky, Gerald, and Pacci back to the Yard first, while he handled handling the evidence himself. There was a new girl processing evidence—cute enough in personality, but heavily tattooed. She was working tonight and Gibbs wanted to make sure she got the evidence organized personally.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her—it was that she was so new.

“Abby,” he greeted, putting down the box. “Need all this processed tonight. Where’s everyone?”

She winced and gave him a wary look. “Assistant Director McAllister sent them home for a mandatory six hours off. He said if I saw you—”

Gibbs rolled his eyes. Morrow and McAllister had been riding his team’s hours hard lately. “Your shift over at oh eight hundred?”

“I’ll be here ‘til then,” she said, far too perky for after midnight.

“Call me with any results.”

“Yes, sir,” she said sweetly.

“Don’t call me sir. I work for a living.”

“Okay then…Gibbs,” she replied, giving him a wink. “Come on, babies! Let’s get to work!”

Gibbs ran into McAllister lurking at the elevator, and he didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes at the other man’s sentry-like stance. Fine, he’d take a mandatory six hours off, get some grub at his favorite diner, maybe work on the boat—Diane, like all the others. Sooner he was done with it, sooner he could burn it.

He pulled into his favorite diner and walked in, trying to stifle a yawn. He’d been working a good eighteen hours and he couldn’t remember when he’d eaten last. “Dot,” he greeted the main nighttime waitress, sinking into one of the chairs at the counter.

“Coffee?”

“Not tonight. Milk’d be okay.” It wasn’t something Gibbs usually drank—he even took his coffee black—but something about the time of night and his workload had him craving something different.
Yeah, he could admit it—that model kid had him rattled. DiNozzo, Anthony, businessman and model. Hell of a combination with those green eyes and that smile. Not to mention the body Gibbs had seen more of than he’d intended. The abs. The muscular legs. The cock that had looked impressive even flaccid.
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