Small Hours

It was five minutes past midnight, and the silence of the night was the only reason three, soft knocks echoed through Gibbs' house. Of course, he wasn't disturbed by it, nor was he anywhere near getting ready to go to sleep, so curiously, he jogged up the steps of his basement and through the house.

When he opened the door it was the last person he'd expected, Kate. She peered up at him, tiny pools clinging onto the dark circled dents under her eyes.

She cleared her throat and spoke softly, "can I come in?"

His eyes squinted, twitching slightly, like they always did when he was trying to figure something out. He nodded slowly, still watching her as she pushed her way through, shivering at the sudden change of temperature. She wasn't wearing a coat, he noticed, or anything but jeans and thin tank top, that clung to her skin.

"You okay?" His voice was soft, almost as if to not startle her.

She ran her finger over the side table which held a lamp, and a bunch of keys, making a line in the light dust that coated it.

"Yeah, fine." It was a faint attempt at a lie, and Gibbs wondered if she'd even tried to make it seem convincing.

"Kate," he kicked the door shut, and strode to stand in front of her with three easy steps.

"I'm good," she urged, "just need an impartial."

He bobbed his head in understanding, "want a drink?"

"Sure."

He lead her to his basement, his safe haven, and most importantly, where he kept the bourbon. Emptying a small jar, he filled it to the very top, and wasn't given the chance to hand it to her, she had already grabbed it from him, and was gulping some down, wincing as it burned the back of her throat.

She perched against the workbench, her legs crossed at the ankles. She held the bourbon filled mason jar under her lips and took another large gulp.

Gibbs watched her intently, throwing back the rest of the liquid in his own jar, and placing it in the workbench with a bang.

The noise snapped Kate from her thoughts and she looked at him, her eyes wandering over him.

"You wanna tell me why you're here, Kate?"

"Men are bastards." She said pointedly and without much thought, chugging down the remaining contents of the jar, and placing it next to his.

He half shrugged, "yeah, we are," Gibbs muttered, refilling both of the jars.

"You know, you always say it's women that are the problem, that we don't tell you what's bothering us, but the minute we do you run for the hills."

"What happened?" He was intrigued, he knew she'd been dating someone chose to actively avoid any information on the subject.

"I'm selfish, high maintenance, and just overall, not good enough, apparently." She rolled her eyes at how pathetic she was sure she sounded, complaining about her recent breakup to her boss probably wasn't the best idea she'd had and yet here she was, doing just that; and stealing his bourbon.

Despite this, she continued, "my mother digging at every single thing I do, 'when are you going to settle down? When will you give me grandchildren?' As if six grandchildren ranging from eight months to seven years old isn't enough. God, she drives me crazy." She grabbed the jar, not caring that she'd spilled it the amber liquid was dripping off her hand. Ignoring it, she chugged the contents down in one go.

"She's your mother, Kate. It's what mothers do."

She grunted in disagreement, "you don't know my mother."

"That bad?"

"Gibbs, last Christmas she was so desperate to set me up, she invited the guy from the post office that, might I ad, she'd only met three days prior, to the annual Todd Christmas party."

Gibbs chuckled, "point taken."

"It's not funny Gibbs. It's like because I'm not married and with a litter of kids, she's not proud of me, and nothing I do can change that."

"As if protecting the president wasn't enough." He brought his own jar up to his smirking lips, and tipped it back in one go.

"Exactly."

Kate rambled almost excessively about her mother, and though she wasn't really paying attention, Gibbs was listening, quite content on just, well, listening to her, soaking up every ounce of information that spilled from her pastel lips. They were both sat on the sawdust coated floor, backs pressed against the workbench, shoulder to shoulder, and he'd given up refilling her drink, and his, and now they were taking casual swings from the bottle, of which was now almost completely empty.

"And for that Jason- Joe? What was his name?"

She raised an eyebrow, amusement tickling the corners of her mouth, "Matthew," she let out a little laugh before continuing, "his name is Matthew."

Gibbs blinked. "Yeah, him. Well, you're too good for him."

"So, I'm not controlling, bossy, and speak before my brain decides to catch up with whatever I'm saying?"

"Controlling, no. Bossy-" he squinted at her smug smile, "yeah, you're a little bossy, but Kate, it's the best thing about ya."

Kate laughed so loudly it made Gibbs raise his eyebrows and stare at the way she threw her head back, and her hair fell with it. "Wow. Gibbs," she began, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, "you sure know how to flatter a girl."

"What?" Gibbs said defensively, with a smile playing on his lips.

"Every girl wants to be told that the best thing about them is that they are bossy."

Gibbs chuckled, nudging her shoulder with his "didn't mean it like that."

"Oh really?" She narrowed her eyes, inching her face toward his.

He grinned, "uh-huh," he mumbled and moved his face closer, challenging her as if she was a victim of his interrogative tactics.

Kate gulped, and used glancing down at her watch as an excuse to break the trance his bright blue eyes had her in. She sighed heavily. "I should go, I have work tomorrow and my boss is a bit of a bastard."

He gave her a look that could only be read as really?, but his eyebrows softened, a playful pout on his lips.

She laughed brightly, securing her hands on the top of the workbench and pulling herself up. She stumbled, her foot knocking over the bottle of bourbon luckily not spilling any of the contents, not that there was enough in it to do so anyway.

He stood with her, a hand on her waist to keep her balanced, she was clearly swaying, and if his own mind wasn't so clouded with alcohol, he would have teased her about being a light-weight. "I'm not letting you drive."

"I'm fine, I'm good. So fine, in fact, I could even beat the famous Special Agent Gibbs, in a fight." She poked at his chest with her index finger, punctuating his name as she did.

"You are really drunk," he grinned.

"Am not."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmm."

He closed in on her, effectively pinning her between him and the workbench, his eyes melting into hers as they glistened up at him. "Prove it."

She ducked out of her trap, expertly grabbing his wrist, twisting him around to take her earlier position: pinned against the workbench.

Gibbs was too stunned for reflexes, but fought against letting her know. Instead, he leaned in, his lips close to her ear.

"That all you got, Secret Service?" He quipped, his eyebrows sitting high on his forehead.

Her laugh was sinful, and it sent a shiver down his spine. "Oh Gunny, I'm just getting started," she shot back.

The small moment paused when her eyes fell to his lips, then back up to his and they were, he noticed, the same colour as the bourbon currently coursing through their veins. He cleared his throat, his lungs kicking in and allowing him to breathe, even if it was a little heavier than before.

"Bedroom's upstairs."

"Excuse me?"

His eyes slammed shut and he shook his head, "no, Kate. I mean, I'll take the couch." He felt her grip on his wrist loosen, and used it as his advantage to slip away from her, taking several wide strides toward the opposite end of the room.

"Oh."

He turned to face her, sure that the hint of disappointment he heard in her voice was nothing but a hopeful fabrication.

"Or, I could call you a cab."

"I'll take the couch." She said decidedly, her eyes pinned to the still knocked over bottle on the floor.

"I was raised better than that."

She slumped against the wall, either too tired or too tipsy to argue.

"That's it. Come on," he was by her side again in an instant, and Kate wasn't sure what he was doing until she felt her feet give way, and her weight being carried in his arms, sure she'd heard him laugh at the surprised squeal he'd gotten from her.

He plonked her on the bed, drawing back the quilt and watching her kick her shoes off and scramble beneath the warmth of the duvet. Using his hand, he smoothed back her hair, leaning in and brushing his lips against her forehead.

"Night, Kate. Don't be late for work."

She grabbed his hand and yanked him closer. "Don't go."

A strangled breath caught in his throat, "Kate." It was a warning. But whether it was for her, or himself, he wasn't sure.

She peered up at him, adjusting her position so she was laying on her back, her hand still wrapped around his wrist.

"What do you want from me?"

She sat up a little, leaning against the headboard. "I just- I need-" She loosened her grip, rubbing her thumb over the pulse on his wrist and feeling it beat a little too hard for it to be normal.

"What?" He pressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, unaware that he was moving closer, yet all the same completely aware of the lack of distance between them.

"I need-"

He sucked in a breath, practically pleading for her to continue her sentence, and give him a reason to close the space between them.

"Katie?" He urged.

Before his conscious brain could kick in and make him draw back from her, her lips were finding his. First, they pressed clumsily against the corner of his mouth, and then they were moving against his still ones. He returned the kiss when he felt her tongue glide delicately across his bottom lip, dampening the chapped skin she found there and seeking access to his bourbon tasting tongue.

Her tongue met his, rolling against it, and he failed to stifle a groan that had risen to his throat. Her lips tasted like bourbon, he noticed, which made him draw back from her, and look over her glazed eyes.

"Kate-" He begun, but he lost his words as her nimble fingers worked against the button on his jeans, and she made quick work at tugging down the zipper. He sucked in a breath, his eyes slamming shut, as her hand rubbed against him through his boxers and she felt him twitch and grow hard against her hand.

Her breath hitched and she quirked an eyebrow at him, leaning closer and teasing her tongue along his neck. "Excited to see me, Gibbs?"

He swallowed, "maybe," he grunted, feeling her fingers slide into his boxers and move against him again, with a little more force this time; he didn't stop her. In fact, he pressed his palms into her waist and scooted closer, capturing her lips in a more heated kiss than their previous one, pressing her to the headboard.

When he broke the kiss, merely for the purpose of breathing again, he smirked smugly at the whimper he'd received from her. She regained her instincts, and swatted his hands away, swiftly pulling her tank top over her head and tossing it to the side. He followed her movements, simultaneously removing his sweatshirt and dropping it to the floor.

Gibbs dragged his eyes across her skin. His room lacked any light but the moon peeking through the closed curtains, cascading blue tints over her breasts as they rose and fell with her heavy breaths. His hands were on her again, roaming the newly exposed skin, and he pressed wet, sloppy kisses down her neck.

Kate gasped, the feel of his teeth gently sinking into the base of her neck flooding warmth southbound. She tugged at the hem of his jeans so he rose his hips, allowing her to push them down clumsily to his knees, letting him do the rest and kick them off. With his lips still working at her shoulder, trailing up toward her neck, he unclasped her bra, dragging the material over her arms, and dropping it between them on the bed.

He didn't hide the fact that he was staring at her breasts, and practically drooling over her, and if that wasn't enough, he cupped her breast, her skin smooth against his coarse hands, and he rubbed his thumb across the pink nubs he found there.

He leaned in to kiss her again, but she stopped him with a palm on his chest.

"Second thoughts?"

She shook her head no, "protection."

"Ah," he thought for a moment, "in the bathroom."

She smirked at him, "really?"

"Don't usually have many late night visitors Katie."

"Go get it," she purred, grazing her teeth across his earlobe, "I'll be waiting."

Her sultry tone made a groan tangle in his throat, his jaw clenching as her hand slid out from his boxers and she sat, blinking innocently at him. He hurried to the bathroom, dressed in nothing but socks and boxers, his erection embarrassingly evident through the thin cotton material.

When he returned, she was leaning on her front, propped on her elbows and smirking back at him as he entered the room. Having discarded her jeans, she was wearing nothing but panties: sheer material, with lace, barely covering anything but all the same, covering way too much for his liking.

She watched as he walked around to the bed, and sat on it, leaning over and kissing her shoulder blade. He reached his hand out, and ran it slowly over her ass. He lifted his hand and brought it back down with a little bit of force, watching as her ass jiggled in the low light, and she gasped excitedly. He was pleasantly surprised at her reaction, so he did it again, coaxing another, louder gasp, and then he trailed his finger over the waistband, and then inside her panties.

He found her already hot, and slick with need, and he grinned, "you alright, Katie?" He hummed into her ear, his finger purposely slipping across her clit.

She closed her eyes and bucked toward him, nodding her reply whilst simultaneously chewing on her bottom lip. He kept his hand painfully still as the other automatically went to her breasts, cupping them, tugging lightly at the already hard, pink beads he found there, which drew another breathy moan from her, that sounded something like a version of his name.

"Hmmm?" He asked, mumbling low into her ear, his lips brushing against it.

"Gibbs, please," she managed, her breathing static and uneven, tilting her hips in hope to find some kind of pressure.

He ran his finger up the length of her, circling her clit slowly, torturously light, leaving wet kisses along her neck.

"More-" she whined, despite her efforts to not completely melt beneath him.

He stopped all movements, and then tapped his finger once against her clit, and then stopped again. "Tell me." He growled, enjoying the frustrated sigh he'd gotten from her.

"I need you-" the sound of her voice made it sound as though she were crying, her frustration and need becoming increasingly clear.

He didn't need anymore, he kissed her shoulders, down her spine, over her lower back and down to her tattoo, where he bit lightly around it. He removed his boxers, tearing the packet with his teeth and rolling it on in one, swift movement. He ran his index finger up and down her spine, earning a gentle shiver from her, before removing her panties from around her hips, and down her long, tanned legs.

She peered back at him, teeth digging into her lower lip as she smiled sweetly, and gave him a small nod of confirmation. He stroked his hand over her ass, up her back, and pushed her hair away from her face. He was thankful he did just that, when he entered her slowly, and watched as her eyes rolled back and her face softened, awed by the feeling of him inside her.

To begin with, his movements were soft, allowing her to adjust to him, and find a comfortable rhythm for the both of them. That was until her delicate moans became higher, and thinner, and her words were becoming increasingly incoherent, yet sounded astoundingly similar to that of a plea.

She was coming undone, her hands firmly pressed against the headboard, gripping onto it, willing herself to hold out just a little longer as he took her from behind, one hand supporting his weight, and the other gripping her hip as he guided her back, over, and over again. It didn't take long for him to hit her sweet spot, and again, and her hand flew back and into his hair, pulling his head closer as he sank his teeth into her shoulder, and she cried out his name as her orgasm hit and she trembled beneath him. He was quick to follow, her silky walls contracting and clamping around him, tipping him over the edge as he called out her name.

Somewhere amidst coming undone and panting for breath, they'd collapsed into a heap on the bed. Gibbs rolled off of her, suddenly growing concerned about crushing her small frame. They laid in silence, Gibbs on his back and Kate on her stomach, sprawled across the bed.

He reached his hand out and tucked some of her hair behind her ear, which caused her to turn her head lazily to face him.

"You okay?" He spoke quietly.

She merely smiled sleepily, as her breathing returned to normal, and she blinked at him a few more times before drifting into a slumber.

Although tired himself, Gibbs took the opportunity to watch her sleep for a few moments. The way the moonlight shone through the window and painted the side of her face shades of blue. How her back rose and fell as she took deep breaths and very quietly, almost inaudibly, snored. He chuckled to himself, and made a mental note to tease her about it at some point. He ran his hand over her hair and down to her cheek, trailing his index finger over her eyebrows, her cheekbones, her relaxed jaw, and finally over her lips.

He leaned down, and kissed the tip of her nose, "night, Katie," he murmured, leaving his hand absently stroking her hair until he fell asleep.

Gibbs awoke, groggy and with a pounding head.

Flashes of the previous night filled his mind and he grinned, rolling over and stretching out his arm, patting the bed to find nothing but cold and empty sheets. Confused, he opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times as the morning light stung his eyes and pressed the bruises in his brain.

"Kate?" He called out, but got nothing but his faint, echoed voice in return.

Upon hearing tyres against the wet road, he climbed out of bed, pulled on a pair of boxers, and peeked through the curtains.

It was Kate, getting into the back of a cab.

He watched with a twist in his stomach as it pulled away, and she didn't look back.