HalfBloodLover – thou asketh and thou shalt receive!

Did you know that there are only SIX romance stories about Shannon and Gibbs? What's up with that? There are so many untold stories… untapped potential… if anyone decides to write about them, message me – I wanna read it.

I think teenage Gibbs, when forced to speak, would be rather bumbling and embarrassed and cute. I think he didn't get so Gibbs-y till after Kelly and Shannon died.

Gibbs.

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He was in detention the first time he saw her. The girl with the red hair. He was in Ms. Norris' art classroom, the one with the big windows lining front and side. The classroom had that dusty feeling that made the mornings feel dirty and cold, but by the afternoon, when the sun was shining through the making all the wood seem golden instead of a grimy brown in a way that had almost a mystical quality to it. Like you could capture the dust moats floating in the air. Or something like that. There was a large sink in the back, which audibly had a leak. It was making him rather antsy, but no more so than the sound of kids running around and laughing outside, which he could hear clearly through an open window. Ms. Norris him had left twenty minutes ago, saying something about the restroom. He knew she wouldn't be coming back till detention was over. He had spent so much time in detention with her, that she trusted him not to leave.

Anyway, that's where he first saw the girl with the red hair. Oh, no, of course not. She wasn't in detention too. He could never imagine her in detention. Not that he was that good at imagining or anything. He was sure, well he thought, well, she might have been in detention once or twice. She wasn't exactly a saint. Wait, no, he didn't mean it that way. It's just… she wasn't… he could see being in detention, that's all.

So he saw her. She was standing outside, right near the window. Not the one that was open, but the one a few over from it. Her hair matched the golden red color of the leaves, but her light green sweater stood out amongst her darkly clothed peers. She was watching a few boys kick around some sort of makeshift ball out of the corners of her eyes, while talking to a girl with curly brown hair.

It was like watching a movie, but so much clearer and in bright color. The sky was a vivid light blue, and a few wispy clouds trailed across the sky. There was no wind that he could see, which was surprising, as this morning there had been a crisp breeze. The way the girl with the brown curly hair kept folding her arms or pressing her hands to her cheeks gave him the impression that it was still pretty cool, but the girl with the red hair… she looked so at ease. So relaxed. So perfectly comfortable and content.

Suddenly, the ball the boys were passing around landed near her feet. The girl with the brown hair laughed and took a step back, as if to make room for the boys to come and get it. But the girl with the red her stepped forward, and in one fluid motion kicked the ball up and over the heads of a few boys who had run forward to grab it, landing somewhere in the midst of a few of the boys a few yards off. A few of them looked surprised, but a lot clapped in appreciation. The girl with the brown hair patted her on the back, laughing, and the red haired girl pretended to curtsy, before resuming her conversation with the brown haired girl.

He smiled at this. The casual manner she had about her. He liked the way she took credit, but didn't bask. She did what she did and was done. Matter of fact. The brown haired girl said something that made her laugh, and for a moment, she looked down at her shoes, chucking at the ground, and then she looked over and into the classroom. Her glance swept across the room, but he looked down before her eyes could meet his.

Suddenly, he felt as if he was an intruder, trespassing on someone else's memory. He pulled out the keys to his house out of his pocket, and began to trace squares into the desks surface. He didn't mind being in detention. There was no one here to yell at him, or to try to figure him out. A lot of people tried to do that. They asked why he was so quiet. They asked why he only listened. They asked why he misbehaved, why he cut class, why he didn't really care for the facts, but would follow instinct without proof. They asked why liked to make things only to give them away. They asked why he liked boats but not sailing. They asked why why why. But they rarely waited for an answer, unless it was an audible one.

He finished making the outline of a grid, and then started shading in alternating spots. Soon, a small chessboard began to appear on the desk before him. He forced himself not to look up and out the window, but he knew the girl was still there. The shadows on the floor became longer as the sun set, and soon the room was filled with a rather pinkish glow instead of a golden one. He could hear the kids outside laughing, when there was a sudden, loud scream. He jumped up to see the brown haired girl pointing at something on the ground. The red haired girl was no where in sight. He darted to the window, and saw the red haired girl lying in the grass, looking very pale.

"She fainted!" the brown haired girl cried, dropping to her knees and grabbing her friend's hand. "She fainted and hit her head!"

A few girls dashed over and huddled around the girl, all talking in nervous, loud tones, while a few boys dashed over to see what the commotion was about.

Later, he would admit he panicked. He was no doctor. He didn't even know if the brown haired girl was right, if the girl really did just faint and hit her head. For all he knew there was something seriously wrong with her. But he knew was he had to do something. Looking around frantically, he jumped over a few tables and grabbed a large mug full of old tea off of Ms Norris' desk. Then he dashed to the back and emptied it in the sink. Turning on the faucets, he filled up the cup with cold water, and then, trying to spill it, dashed to the open window and climbed through it. Some of the water sloshed onto his shirt when he landed on the ground, but he ignored it other then glancing down to make sure he hadn't spilled it all. He shoved aside the girls and boys who had gathered around and finally caught site of the red haired girl. She was breathing, but her eyes were still closed, and the brown haired girl was shaking her and crying. A few kids were running towards the entrance of the building for help.

Without hesitation, he emptied the cup of water on her face. A few kids grabbed at him in surprise, but stopped when she jerked, sputtered, and opened her eyes to stare right up at Jethro.

"You're eyes are the same color as my shoes." She said it in such a mater of fact tone he didn't really know what to say. So instead, he told her friend, "Get her to sit up. And put her head between her knees."

The brown haired girl shot him a reproachful glance, "That could have made her go into shock."

Gibbs said nothing, and only waited till the girl helped her friend to a sitting position. He watched as color slowly came back into the red haired girl's cheeks. Finally she looked up, blinking several times. "Where am I?" she asked, looking around. Jethro turned around, walking back to the class room.

"You fainted," he heard someone tell her.

"Oh. Why am I wet?" her voice was still distinguishable, even above the rumble of the other students.

"Some guy poured water on you to wake you up," there was a strain in the voice who said this. They all knew who he was. He was Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The quiet tall one who the girl's didn't look in the eye and the boys got in fights with and the teachers hated. The outsider. Yeah, some guy. Jethro pulled himself through the window.

He stood inside the classroom, watching as the kids began to disperse. He could make out the top of the girl's head now, but that was it."Where is he?"

There was a pause. Jethro waited for the brown haired girl to say something. Finally, he heard a low, "I don't know."

He tugged the window closed, and it hit the sill with a sudden bang. The last rays of the sun were shining through the windows. It was the end of detention, and time to go home.

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Would ya'll mind if I sort of broke cannon again? It's a little hard to resist, I admit. I know I said this is all non AU, but if it's written in a plausible way… do you mind, do you mind?

I already wrote one for McGee, so that will be up as soon as I get on my other computer. Who else do you want to see? I'm not doing Ari, Duckie, or Jimmy.