What Dogs Know By Ardin

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. --Insert pout here--

A/N: I promise all of you that I am working on the next chapters of "Complexity Kills" but I just couldn't bring myself to write such angst during my holiday. However, a run in with a gruff mechanic and his cute puppy inspired this particular story.


A heavy rain pounding against his bedroom windows woke Gibbs from a deep slumber. Groaning, he looked over at his alarm clock, taking in the 0800 hour through sleep blurred eyes. Standing with a yawn he glanced out the window.

'Figures,' he thought to himself as he pulled a pair of pajama bottoms on over his boxers, 'My first day off from work in over a month and it's raining.'

Sighing he made his way downstairs, stopping in the kitchen just long enough to start the coffee machine before heading out into the downpour to retrieve the paper.

Not even bothering to shut the door behind him, he left the protective shelter of the porch, sprinting down the drive to scoop up the paper. He turned to make an equally fast run back to the house and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him.

Sitting on the porch, immediately in front of the open door, was a small puppy. Gibbs stared at it for several seconds before he seemed to realize how wet he was getting and moved up the stairs.

Glaring, he took in the creature at his feet. The dog couldn't have been more than a few months old; its overly large paws and happily wagging tail bringing a small smile to Gibbs' otherwise stern features. Its fur was matted and dirty, but he suspected that the seemingly malnourished animal would most likely be a medium brown under the layers of mud and rainwater.

As though noticing Gibbs' continued scrutiny, the puppy looked up at him and barked happily. With a heavy sigh Gibbs took in the dog's lack of collar and the rain which had worsened in the short minutes they had stood looking at each other.

He spoke to the air around him, voice gruff and resigned, "This is not happening."

Contrary to popular opinion, Gibbs did have a heart and he couldn't bring himself to leave the poor animal out in the miserable weather that the day presented. Tossing the still plastic-bag-covered newspaper just inside the door, he striped off his t-shirt. Stooping he gathered the dog, who yipped excitedly and tried to lick his face, making sure to completely cover the animal with the garment.

Closing the door behind him he kicked his shoes off on the lanoleum entryway and made his way upstairs, carrying the wiggling pup the length of the hall to the bathroom.

Thanking whichever deity was listening for both the spaciousness and sparseness of the bathroom, he moved his few personal items off the counter with one hand before setting his struggling bundle down. The dog immediately burrowed out of the shirt to sit next to the sink, watching Gibbs as he filled the basin with warm water.

"Let's get you cleaned up." Glancing down at himself, Gibbs took in his soaking wet pjs and the two distinctive muddy paw prints that now marked his bare chest. "Make that: get US cleaned up."

Sighing at the ridiculousness of talking to an animal, he moved the surprisingly willing dog down into the water.

Almost half an hour later, Gibbs drained the last of the water from the sink. The puppy's exuberance during the bath had left not only Gibbs soaking, but also every bathroom surface within five feet of the dog, who now looked more like a drowned rat than a canine.

After giving the animal only the most cursory of rub-downs with a towel, he laid a layer of towels on the floor to absorb more from the pup's fur and then stepped into the shower to clean himself.


It was almost 1000 hours before Gibbs finally got his first cup of coffee of the day. He had discovered, much to his surprise, that it was actually more difficult to get the small dog dry than it had been to get it clean. Having gotten cleaned up himself, changed, and the pup to a state of only mild dampness, the two sat in the kitchen.

Gibbs had never before had a dog and he was finding the small creature's adamant refusal to leave his side just a little bit strange. He had even parked himself outside the shower door and hadn't budged until Gibbs had finished washing and stepped out.

Sitting at his kitchen table, he glanced down at the empty plate on the floor which had, just minutes before, held a small pile of scrambled eggs. Taking a drink of his coffee he moved his gaze to the dog who now sat next to his chair licking his chops clean. He had no idea what to do with the animal and was seriously considering calling the local animal shelter for information on taking care of the dog when a better idea entered his mind.

Finishing off the last of his coffee, he stood and looked down at the puppy, who gazed back at him happily, tail thumping the floor behind him. He spoke as he took a step towards the living room, his voice a laughing version of a drill sergeant's commanding tone. "Let's go, marine-" his voice was cut off as the dog gave an echoing bark at the title. "You like that, huh? Marine?" Again the excited bark. "Well, okay then. Let's go call Kate."