Authors note: This is a really short...well it isn't a story, as such. Looks more like dot points, lol. It's just a little thing I wrote in about five minutes because I don't want to be studying neuropsychology right now. I suppose it could be called a response to SWAK and Twilight, seeing as I now own the Season 2 DVD's and have been watching SWAK, in particular, far too often.

When opening his mail, he unconsciously holds his breath. Then looks around to make sure no one has noticed.

When he lists the actors who have played James Bond, whether aloud or in his head, he makes sure to mention Timothy Dalton. Serious illness is no excuse for making such an error, thankyou very much.

He hasn't replaced the Gucci shoes. Or the suit. Or the tie.

Saki bombing is no longer the most effective way to deal with a cold.

Travolta movies just don't hold the same appeal anymore.

Any and all mail that is even remotely suspicious goes straight to Gibbs. He has been informed that he is occasionally a touch over zealous on this point.

Seeing that particular colour lipstick on a woman, however beautiful, makes him feel nauseous. This trend seems tragically irreversible.

He asked a few people to try and guess his age. They were all wrong, and he has long since given up this activity. He refuses to believe he looks any older than he is.

He has stopped buying women flowers. Chocolates work perfectly well.

Every now and then, he attempts the consumption of one of those healthy…wrap things. No luck yet, but he will not be conquered by a food group.

He dates more blondes than brunettes.

When having a shower, he turns away from the first warm spray of water, before it can hit his face.

They are his triggers, and he is stuck with them.