She didn't think she could be any luckier.
With a single bullet, she'd earned the respect of one of the best men she'd ever met.
It was early morning, maybe four o'clock (0400, her mind corrected her.), but she'd been awake for a while now, curled up against Jethro's side.
They'd forgotten to turn off the bathroom light after their shower last night, and now it threw half of his face into shadow.
He was beautiful, although she'd never say that aloud. Not without the proper encouragement anyways.
But even if she did call him beautiful, she thought he'd understand.
Because that was just... Jethro. Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The second B for bastard. The man who had no respect for authority. The one who was secretly playful, and an absolute tease. The man that she loved, absolutely, irrevocably. Her soul mate.
She reached out and slowly traced a line down the middle of his face. From his forehead, down to the tip of his nose, and from there to his lips. Lips that gently kissed her fingers. She glanced up, startled. He let a slow smile drift across his face and she smiled back radiantly.
Yes, definitely her soul mate.