"Prove it" echoed through my apartment and "Oh, my god, Gibbs just called me on it! What the fuck am I going to do now?" bounced around in my head.

I turned five shades of pink but I refused to back down. I cocked one eyebrow and said as snarky as I could, "Excuse me?"

Gibbs leaned in closer and said in a low voice, "You heard me, Beth. Prove it. Use that sarcastic mouth for something other than pissing me off." He sat back and smirked at me - smirked!

I got off the couch to take my dinner dishes and the leftovers to the kitchen. I didn't want to look like I was fleeing my own living room, but dammit, I was. He was too close and too smug and too Gibbs. I took a deep breath, put the leftovers in the fridge, and walked as calmly as I could back to the couch.

"OK, so let's pretend for one minute that I actually meant what I just said. How in the hell would that work? I don't like you, you don't like me, this would be some kind of bizarre hate sex thing. Plus, I know you're Gibbs and all, but even you can't pull strings at the medical examiner's office."

He threw back his head and laughed hard enough to make the whole couch shake. "I can do anything I set my mind to, Beth. Look in my face and believe me."

I didn't want to look at him, I really didn't, because I knew I'd see contempt or arrogance. I took another deep breath and raised my eyes to his, and found not contempt but lust. Honest-to-god lust. His eyes were very deeply blue and there was no trace of smirk or arrogance. He leaned in towards me again and I scooted back until I was in the very corner of the couch, trapped like a rat. I was very aware of my pajamas and my unkempt braids and the fact I had on absolutely no makeup. "At least I showered today," I thought. And then - "Oh, crap, he's coming closer!"

He was indeed coming closer - he had left his side of the couch and was almost to me.

"Gibbs, we can't do this. Hate sex, remember? We don't like each other, remember?"

He caught the ends of my braids and pulled my face close to his and whispered, "When did I ever say I don't like you?"

I had two seconds to think, "He has me by my hair!" and then his mouth was on mine. He pulled my braids harder, which pressed my mouth down harder into his kiss. I felt his tongue on my lips and knew if I didn't stop right this second the bizarre hate sex thing would happen. I tried to pull away but he just tightened his grip on my hair. I put both hands on his shoulders and pushed for all I was worth.

He moved back a fraction of an inch, just far enough to growl out, "Open your mouth, dammit. Kiss me. Kiss me right now, Beth, like you mean it."

He let go of my hair, only to put his hands over mine and squeeze. He didn't hurt me but I gasped anyway. He squeezed them again harder and kissed me again, taking advantage of my open-mouthed gasp. His tongue was warm and slick in my mouth and the thought "What if I bit down?" flashed across my mind. Then I couldn't think any more. I was kissing him back just as rough, struggling to get my hands free from his so I could pull his hair or slap his face or something, anything, to break this incredible kiss before I did something I'd regret. He didn't let me go but he did stop to ask, "Am I hurting you?", looking down at our hands.

"Jesus God, Gibbs! No, you're not hurting me. You're fucking up my world is what you're doing!"

"Kissing you is fucking up your world? Then you're really going to be thrown by the rest of the evening."

I sucked in a giant breath and said, "Rest of the evening? Why the hell are you here, Gibbs?!" The second he made the mistake of letting go of my hands, I was going to slap him. Repeatedly.

He sat back, pulling me with him, probably knowing that if he let me loose, I'd try my best to hurt him. "I came here, hell, I'm not 100% sure why I came here. You've gotten under my skin every time you've rotated through NCIS and you've especially pissed me off this past week."

I gave one last hearty pull to get my hands free and then said fuck it. "I've pissed you off? Jackass! You bark orders at me like I'm your flunky, you demand results before I've even started, you swear at me like a sailor, and then have the nerve to tell me I've pissed you off? Screw you, Gibbs!"

His eyes lit up and he said, "Sounds like a plan to me."