Work Text
Sunday may be a day of rest for most people but Nick knows all too well that when you’re working for NCIS, in particular working on Gibbs’s team, a day of rest is never a sure thing. In fact, it’s something to be savoured when it does appear and, in Nick’s case, a day of rest does not always involve being restful. Still, his partner in his preferred way of not being restful is sound asleep so Nick does the next best thing, slips out of bed quietly, dresses in his running gear and lets himself out, all without waking Ellie up. He runs his usual circuit, makes one unscheduled pit stop before heading back to her apartment. Letting himself back in, he throws his keys on the counter, puts his precious cargo beside them and preps the coffee machine. He stops short of turning it on though - one thing at a time. Making his way to the bedroom, he sees that Ellie hasn’t stirred since he left her and he doesn’t even bother to hide his grin, or his chuckle, not when he knows he won’t get in trouble for it. He moves so that he’s standing beside her, looking down at her and, much as his hands itch to touch her, he knows better. He only gives in to that particular temptation when he next comes into the room. A rush of steam from the bathroom accompanies him and Ellie turns her head towards the door and opens her eyes. He knows she’s still tired when not even the sight of him, shirtless and clad only in a towel around his waist, droplets of water still clinging to his chest, makes her lift her head. Instead she actually burrows down deeper under the covers. He laughs as he rubs at his head and chest with a second towel. “You’ve been out for your run already?” she mumbles after a few minutes, or at least he’s pretty sure that’s what she said. He’s getting to be pretty fluent in Ellie-speak first thing in the morning. “I brought back doughnuts,” he tells her and she moans into the pillow. “And the coffee machine just needs to be switched on.” She allows herself one small cup on weekends, watered down so much that it can barely be called coffee as far as he’s concerned, but needs must. Another moan at that. “I love you,” she tells him and he chuckles as he gives into temptation, drops the towel from his hand and the other from around his waist and slips into bed behind her. “I love you too.” He presses a kiss to the back of her neck as he tucks himself neatly in behind her and she sighs with contentment, body going limp and pliant in his arms. “Even though I’m tired all the time?” “Hey.” Another kiss to her neck as his hand splays across her stomach and the slight swell there that still makes him marvel. “You’re growing a human, you know. That’s pretty tiring work.” She’s pointed that out to him, in those exact words, more than once. She makes a little noise in the back of her throat that could be contentment, could be amusement. It’s hard to say. “Go back to sleep,” he says. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to wake up.” He’s not sure he gets to the end of the sentence before she’s asleep again. Not long after, he joins her.