<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">"I slept fine," Gibbs said into the microphone he still held -- but his attention wasn't on his words at all.  <br/>
<br/>
Her hand in his felt right.  Like it belonged.  He'd had that thought before, while she was in the coma... that his skin against hers felt like home.<br/>
<br/>
He listened -- and read -- her words with a growing hope.  He didn't bother reaching for the microphone or the laptop -- what he needed to convey to her now didn't need words.  He lifted their clasped hands and kissed the back of her hand, then pressed it to his face and closed his eyes.  <br/>
<br/>
When he opened them again, all of the barriers he kept between himself and the world were dropped.  He let her see the full breadth of his emotion -- fierce loyalty and love for his team, a drive to help others, a stubbornness that kept him alive... and love for her, that he'd hidden so carefully since it first started to blossom.</span></span>