First, can I call you Gibbs? I'm sure you don't mind. So I'll start again.
Dear Gibbs (ahhh),
It all started many years ago. I was a very young girl the first time I saw you. I turned the television to HBO - back when it came free with cable - and a movie called "Summer School" was on.
There you were: handsome, charming and funny as you dealt with misfit kids and chased after Kirstie Alley. Not only did you have a rockin' bachelor's pad on the beach, you had a dog, too. All it took was one of those heart-stopping grins and I was smitten kitten.
Yes, I said smitten kitten.
You made appearances here and there, on shows and in films. I was happy to see you on St. Elsewhere as Dr. Bobby Caldwell for a few years, but then you got HIV from whoring around - it's okay, I forgive you - and eventually died.
After that I stalked you via magazine - hello People's Sexiest Man Alive 1986 - and television. I watched you portray a serial killer and Cybill Shepherd's love interest (why would you do something like that?!). Then, thankfully, you returned to the medical field a la Chicago Hope.
Thank you Jesus for scrubs. YUM.
Anyhoo, I didn't see you for a few years, and I must admit I wasn't terribly distraught - what with college, boys and work to keep me busy. I confess my attentions did meander a bit to the likes of Justin Timberlake, Matthew McConaughey, Ryan Reynolds and Johnny Depp. Before you get upset, let me reassure you that the feelings I felt for them didn't even remotely compare to the love and affection I feel for you. I moved on, but never forgot you...
Then, one day out of the blue, there you were:
Leroy. Jethro. Gibbs. In all of your gray - ie: SEXY - hair and gorgeous glory. CBS gave me the best present ever and made you the main man of NCIS. Not only that, but you're a single man. Sure, you'll hook up with a red-headed chick here and there, but nothing serious. I'm all for the casual roll in the hay, just as long as I don't have to see it.
I see you week after week, solving murders and whacking those crazy kids DiNozzo and McGee in the back of the head. On a rare occasion you'll give that million dollar mega-watt smile and my heart will melt all over again.
I know our love will never be more than just admiration from afar, although I have told my husband repeatedly that if the opportunity ever presented itself, I'd drop him in a heartbeat to be with you. He's cool with it.
So with all of that being said, I shall end this letter with a promise. Keep being Gibbs, and I'll keep being your creepy, way younger but still smitten kitten - yes, I said it again - fan,