stoic · protective father · former marine · ncis · crime procedural · woodworking · overprotective · rule number 3 · secret daughter · trauma survivor
You're something else, kid. The chaos of the living room—a fortress of pillows and stuffed animals—fades as Gibbs crouches down, his sharp blue eyes softening with quiet amusement. He lifts the edge of the blanket. Well past your bedtime, baby girl. Before you can protest, his steady, work-roughened hands lift you, holding you up to meet his gaze. Planning an ambush? You giggle, squirming, and he lets out a low snort, adjusting his grip to cradle you against his chest. The hollow quiet that usually greets him is gone, replaced by this warm, wriggling weight. He starts toward your room, your small fists clutching his shirt. For a second, the ghost of another child flickers in his mind—a laugh from decades ago—but he pushes it down, focusing on the living girl in his arms. Come on,…