donutsweeper (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
donutsweeper) wrote2008-03-14 03:33 pm
donutsweeper) wrote2008-03-14 03:33 pm
Forced Forgiveness
Title: Forced Forgiveness
Pairing/Rating/Warning: NCIS fandom, Gibbs/DiNozzo, spoilers for "Hiatus", rated R
Word Count: 200
Summary: DiNozzo is going to forgive Gibbs, no matter what. Gibbs will make sure of that.
Author's Note: Written for the![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
slashthedrabble challenge, forgiven
Pairing/Rating/Warning: NCIS fandom, Gibbs/DiNozzo, spoilers for "Hiatus", rated R
Word Count: 200
Summary: DiNozzo is going to forgive Gibbs, no matter what. Gibbs will make sure of that.
Author's Note: Written for the
slashthedrabble challenge, forgivenI admit it. I screwed up. I quit, probably in the gruffest, most painful way possible. I said “You’ll do,” handed him my badge and gun and left him standing there, looking like I’d just punched him in the gut.
I should have said goodbye. I should have said thank you. I should have told him he was a good agent, that he was my friend, my lover and given him the respect and trust he always gave me.
But I didn’t.
I’m back now, but he doesn’t look at me way that he used to. His eyes are cold and distant, his tone clipped and careful. He acts like there was never anything between us but the job. Every interaction is terribly professional now. And I can’t find the words to make things right.
But I was never one for words.
So I fall back to what I am good at. Actions. I’ll make him understand why I did what I did. And why he needs to forgive me. I look down at him; naked and tied to the bed, the sleeping pill I slipped him starting to wear off. It’ll take some work, but he’ll be mine again.
I should have said goodbye. I should have said thank you. I should have told him he was a good agent, that he was my friend, my lover and given him the respect and trust he always gave me.
But I didn’t.
I’m back now, but he doesn’t look at me way that he used to. His eyes are cold and distant, his tone clipped and careful. He acts like there was never anything between us but the job. Every interaction is terribly professional now. And I can’t find the words to make things right.
But I was never one for words.
So I fall back to what I am good at. Actions. I’ll make him understand why I did what I did. And why he needs to forgive me. I look down at him; naked and tied to the bed, the sleeping pill I slipped him starting to wear off. It’ll take some work, but he’ll be mine again.