Kate lives!AU. Post LTM canon, playing fast and loose with NCIS canon as it suits me, in a 'verse where Kate is still alive and working for NCIS.

NCIS folks: Gill and Cal are experts in lie detection, using facial expression (reading emotion), vocal stress analysis and other expertise. The Lightman Group helps various law enforcement agencies and other people when the truth is at stake. Emily is Cal's daughter.

LTM folks: Kate and Gibbs are federal agents who work for NCIS, investigating crimes affecting the US Navy or Marines. Kate is ex-Secret Service. Gibbs is a team leader and is reknowned for his gut instincts. Gibbs lost his wife, Shannon, and their 8 year old daughter Kelly many years ago.

Vulnerable

The knock on her door is so soft she almost misses it. "Come in." She assumes it's an intern, someone who'd be cautious about disturbing her, but when the door opens it's Gibbs who appears.

"Jethro."

"Hey, Gill." His voice is as soft as his knock. "Just... was nearby." It's not soft in the gentle way he sometimes gets around Kate, but a weak, shaken kind of soft she's never heard from him before. "Thought I'd come say hi."

She's absolutely certain he's come to say more than 'hi', but she humours him, getting up from behind her desk, finding a glass of water to press into his hands, and leading him to sit beside her on the couch. Then she waits.

"Was talkin' to Emily again." He says it so quietly she has to strain to hear him. "'Bout languages and college and... life. She's a great kid."

"She is." Gill's smile is involuntary. She's grateful daily for the way she gets to be part of Emily's life. Sometimes it stings to think 'what if' and 'if only', sometimes she's so jealous of Cal she could scream, but it's also such a blessing.

Gibbs looks like he could break down at any moment. She still can't quite fathom how he gets himself out of bed in the morning with all the pain and loss he carries, but usually he bears it more easily - or at least, she realises with a jolt, hides it more successfully. She's suddenly touched he chose to come to her when he's too raw or too tired or simply doesn't want to pretend he isn't hurting.

He takes a few sips of water and absently turns the glass around in his hands before setting it aside. She's not sure if he's waiting for her to break the silence.

"Emily, she- she likes you a lot, you know," she offers eventually.

He actually looks surprised, and she suppresses the urge to roll her eyes.

"She does?"

"Uh-huh. You should hear her." She smiles at the memory. "'Gibbs said this, Gibbs did that', Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs."

"Oh."

She'd go so far as to say Emily adores Gibbs, and the only reason she's not saying it out loud is because he looks so... fragile. It's not a word she'd usually associate with him at all and it has her treading carefully. She knows him fairly well, but not nearly well enough to be certain how he'd react if he fell to pieces right in her office.

Besides, if he's ready to let go, he'll do it.

Informing him Emily has accepted him into her life as a surrogate uncle at the very least... it would be too much, it might just crumble the last of his control, and it wouldn't be fair.

It's not for Gillian to make the decision of whether he'll actually admit he's here because he needs a safe place, somewhere he doesn't have to be the legendary Agent Gibbs who shows no weakness.

"Emily's so excited about what you've taught her." She keeps her voice deliberately light. "Her language lessons in school didn't exactly inspire her or fill her with confidence."

He chuckles, and she wonders if he's relieved she's given him something else to think about. "Yeah, mine didn't either, back in the day."

"Well, it's all changed now. A month ago she was complaining she was never going to fulfil language requirements. Now she's pretty set on taking Russian for her obligatory class. Last time I spoke to her she was busy researching which colleges would be willing to send her to Russia for at least one semester."

"Really?" His voice is still soft, but his face lights up.

"I don't know how you convinced her she could be good at languages, but it worked."

His smile is the same proud, indulgent smile Cal wears when Em's being particularly brilliant. Heck, it's a smile Gill wears a lot around Emily.

Gibbs has adored Emily from the start, has come to dote on her as if she were his own flesh and blood. It's painfully clear, and as usual it aches down to Gill's bones to know what he lost. She's certain he was a wonderful dad.

"She- she just needed some confidence. She's a smart kid." He shrugs it off. "Special. Din't take much."

Gillian doesn't need telling Em's special, and she does know Gibbs well enough to realise there's no use contradicting him when he downplays his own contribution, so she just smiles and lets it pass.

"Well, thank you. She likes you a lot, but she also really appreciates your help. And so does Cal."

"He doesn't mind?"

She shakes her head. She'd be the first to point out Cal's many faults, but when it comes to Emily, he can be incredibly generous - both to her and about sharing her affection with the people he cares about. "Not at all. He considers you a friend, Jethro. He wouldn't begrudge you spending time with his daughter." She grins. "Besides, I think applying to college here is a bit different from when he was a teenager in England. He's tearing his hair out over it. He's delighted you could help."

He chuckles at that, then his face grows more solemn. "I just wish- she makes me think-" He looks down, sighs, spreads his hands helplessly. "I miss my girls," he says, finally, quietly.

Tentatively, she reaches a hand out to wrap her fingers around his.

He doesn't look at her, but he holds on tight, and she knows in her bones he's grateful.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

If he were a patient, she would talk about the nature of grief and pain and healing, tell him there's always hope; she knows all the 'right' things to say. In the face of his loss, though, they seem like worn out platitudes, and anyway, she's sure he's heard them all before. For all her training and expertise, the best thing she has to offer is her friendship.

"I dunno how to move on without feelin' like I'm-" He sighs. "Betrayin' them or somethin'."

"You're not." She almost tells him even thinking about this is a healthy sign, a sign he's finally looking forward not backward, but she suspects it'd make him feel worse, not better.

He pulls a face, a kind of pained cringe. His delight in Emily is all tangled up in the grief for Kelly he still carries, and there's no way to avoid the painful dichotomy. The more she watches them together, the more Gill's sure a similar burden is part of what stops him from pursuing Kate.

He's surrounded himself with surrogate family, but he's too scared to let them be all they can be for him, too scared of the potential for loss, of hurting someone else, of disrespecting the memory of his girls. Scared, guilty, and wounded.

She squeezes his hand. "You've a lot to give still. I don't think Shannon and Kelly would want you to miss out on life for the sake of their memory." She can't find the right words - she's not sure they exist. Instead, she plumps for simple honesty. "Jethro, please don't forget how much you're loved."

The emotion pooling around his eyes and mouth - oh, she wishes he'd let himself deal with it. But she can't, won't force him.

"You have friends here, as well as at NCIS. You always will. You and Kate, you're part of our family now, too." There's a flicker on his face when she mentions Kate, a fragment he can't hide, not from her. She's not sure he even realises how deep those emotions go. He's too stubborn for his own good, just like Cal. She'd bang their heads together if she thought it would help, but today is not the right day.

She drags herself back to the subject.

"And I think-" She stalls, doesn't quite know how to put this, either. "I think as far as Emily's concerned... she's very happy to have you in her life."

There's a pause, then he nods again. She's familiar with the strange mix of emotions that come with being informally adopted into the Lightman conspiracy. Neither Emily nor Cal realise, she's sure, just how warm and welcoming even the reflection of their mutual regard is. After all these years, she's still not used to being included in their circle of love and mischief. Em has drawn Gibbs into it so naturally, so completely without guile or even a consciously positive intent, just by being herself.

And Gibbs... well, she doesn't need telling. He's overwhelmed, confused, a little thrilled, can't work out how he ended up on the inside, and she knows because it's been years and she still can't quite believe her own good fortune, either.

Eventually he looks up, offers a wan smile, then he's pulling her into a hug. She has a moment of shock. He's not generally a very demonstrative guy, rarely seeks out physical affection for himself, though he's surprisingly ready to offer it. Then she returns the embrace, rubbing a hand up and down his back.

She's glad she can give him some comfort and reassurance. She's pretty sure it's an indulgence he doesn't allow himself nearly as often as he needs. His breath is harsh and rattling, she suspects it's taking all he's got not to fall apart, but he's not allowing it to happen, not yet.

When he lets her go, he hangs his head, looks away from her. She's caught between a desire to scold him for being ashamed he's only human, and the need to bully him into giving himself a break a bit more often. She's pretty sure she doesn't (yet) know him well enough to bust his balls on either subject in a way he'd take to kindly, so she keeps her counsel.

At least he knows he can let his guard down, even for a moment, knows he can safely let her in under his mask of stoicism.

"I better go," he says, getting up, and she'd be willing to bet his need for a sharp exit has more to do with having exposed his soft underbelly than any pressing item on his calendar.

"Thanks for visiting." She won't push her luck, not this time. She isn't Cal, after all. She sees him to the door, then gives in to a sudden, irresistible impulse. "Jethro?"

He turns back, eyebrows raised in question, and it strikes her he looks more peaceful than he did when he arrived. Maybe she did something right, somewhere along the way.

She smiles. "I just want you to know, you're always welcome to visit. If you ever find yourself... you know, 'nearby'."

A wry grin, and a slight look of amusement and embarrassment. He knows as well as she does just how feeble that excuse was.

"Thanks, Gill." Even his voice sounds... stronger, now she thinks about it. "I'll, uh..." He nods. "I'll bear that in mind."

She grins to herself again as she lets the door close behind him. If she's inclined to trust her gut, she'd say he was going to take her up on the offer sooner than later. And she rather hopes she's right. Sure, there were no major breakthroughs or grand outpourings of suppressed emotion, all the things, as a doctor, she might have hoped for, but more than she's a doctor, she is a friend.

She's glad, glad he chose to come to her, allowed himself to be vulnerable for a moment. Glad, and touched, and honoured. Glad she got to make him smile and tell him he's loved, two things far more valuable than hours of even the best therapy could ever be. And she got to cheer up a friend, which is more rewarding than anything else she can imagine doing.

She's still smiling as she sits back down, and even the mountain of paperwork on her desk can't spoil her mood.

~ fin ~