The next morning, I was awoken five minutes early by Sean dropping the waffle maker on his foot. I hopped into the kitchen to find him hopping around, muttering every kind of curse word--in several different languages.
"Sean, honey," I said, trying not to laugh, "this is why I do most of the cooking. Because I do not drop kitchen appliances on my feet."
Sean looked at me, clearly annoyed at my lack of sympathy.
"I'm sorry, would you like me to kiss it and make it all better?" I asked sarcastically. Sean just rolled his eyes at me. My only response was to grin at him and go into our bedroom to grab my phone and turn my alarm off.
When I returned, Sean had plugged the waffle maker in and was mixing up batter. I came up behind him and hugged him around the waist.
"Thank you for making waffles, dear." I said.
"You're welcome." Sean said, finishing the batter. We scooched over to the waffle maker, me still hugging Sean from behind. Finally, I let go to get the butter and syrup out and set the table. I sat at the kitchen table reading emails until Sean sat down with a plate stacked with waffles.
"Mmm.. These look fantastic." I said, taking three off the top of the stack. I buttered them quickly and drowned them in syrup. I dug in, and finished them in a couple of minutes. I looked up to see Sean watching me, fascinated.
"Where does it all go?" he asked. "You're so small!" I laughed.
"I call it the power of not wanting to be late but still being really hungry." I said. "Now, I gotta go get ready real fast."
"I don't think 'fast' is happening until you put your other leg on." Sean said, chuckling.
"Real funny, smartass." I said, giggling in spite of myself. I got up and hopped over to the sink to put my plate in, then made my way to our bedroom. I pulled on a tshirt, then put my leg on. I pulled on a pair of jeans and combat boots, clipped my holster and badge to my belt, and went to brush my teeth. I grabbed my bag and a jacket, and met Sean at the door. I stuffed my jacket in my backpack, then fished my keys out of it.
"Hey, you got a new Pink Floyd shirt!" Sean said. I nodded. It had taken me a while to work up the courage to put it on after I bought it, because I had been wearing my old Pink Floyd shirt when Gibbs, Tony, and I were kidnapped and tortured in Florida.
"Yeah." I said. "I've got a different shirt in my backpack, though, just in case." I said quietly. Sean kissed my forehead.
"I bet you won't need it. You're my tough girl." he said. "Now let's get going. We'll be early if we leave now." I nodded, and off we went.
When we walked into the bullpen, Gibbs was already at his desk.
"You two are early." he said, not looking up from his computer.
"We figured we'd come in a little early since we're leaving early." Sean said.
"You figured out what you're going to name the dog yet?" Gibbs asked.
"We're sticking with the name that the woman who was going to get him had picked out." Sean said. "Otis."
Gibbs nodded his approval. Sean and I sat down and started going through paperwork and digging around into some leads for a case. We hardly noticed when the rest of the team and a couple of my brothers came in. I got up once to run things to Abby and Ducky, and then, before I knew it, Sean and I were leaving.
"You excited?" Sean asked in the elevator. I nodded, grinning.
"I can't wait." I said.
It was about a fifteen minute drive to go meet Otis.
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More Adventures With an Unbiological Family: An NCIS Fanfic (Book Three)
FanfictionBook Three of my NCIS Fanfic series! I don't own the characters of Special Agents Gibbs, DiNozzo, McGee, or David, or Director Vance.