Kate drops onto the seat beside him, giggling and spilling a little of her drink as she does so.
"Whoops!" She leans in close to his ear, one hand resting on his thigh for balance. "Just as well I didn't pay for it," she confides.
This isn't a side of Kate he's seen before, and although he opens his mouth to respond he can't seem to find the right words. It probably doesn't help that he's been fairly antisocial all evening, preferring sipping glass after glass of bourbon, so he's not exactly stone cold sober himself.
She sits back up, but her hand is still on his leg, and she leans her shoulder comfortably into his as she tilts her head back to take a large gulp from her glass. "You should try one of these. 'S a cocktail. 'S yummy." She glances up at him, and he could almost believe she's flirting. "It's called a Climax." She smacks her lips and giggles again, and yup, seems like Kate's flirting with him.
He chuckles. He can smell the cocktail from the glass and on her breath, and he's pretty sure it's something he wouldn't drink, but its sweetness combines with the scent of her hair into something he breathes in with considerable enjoyment.
"I'll stick with bourbon, Katie."
"Spoilsport." The fact she doesn't protest his calling her Katie says a lot. She doesn't even shoot him a disapproving look. It's not something he'd usually get away with so easily.
"Yeah, well. Can't teach an old dog new tricks."
He'd almost been able to forget about the hand on his thigh till she squeezes affectionately and he flinches despite himself.
"You're not that old, Gibbs," she informs him, peering at him with an almost comically serious look on her face.
"I'm not?"
"Nope."
There's a pause while he tries to find an appropriate reply. "Okay," is what he finally settles on. If nothing else, at least it's safe.
She settles back against the worn leather of the booth with a contented sigh, and her head comes to rest on his shoulder. She has moved her hand off his leg which Gibbs tells himself is a good thing, though something about her easy intimacy was very welcome.
"'M tired," she murmurs, her breath tickling his neck.
Gibbs frowns. It isn't like Kate to be so touchy feely, and he can't help wondering just how much she's had to drink and who let her get into this state. It's an Agency gathering, so she's not at any risk (no one here would be stupid enough to mess with a member of his team), but he knows her well enough to realise that waking up tomorrow with a thumping headache would be bad enough. If she has embarrassing memories to go with it, it'll haunt her for weeks.
"Wanna ride home, Katie?"
She lifts her head up enough to glare at him. "You've had too- too much to drink Gibbs. You shouldn't be -driving..."
She's almost pouting and he pushes down the urge to laugh at her expression. Yeah, he really has to get her out of here before she does something she'll never forgive him for - because he's certain that if she humiliates herself and he had a chance to stop her, that's not something she'll forget in a hurry.
"I meant we could share a taxi, Kate."
Her brow furrows as she processes this, and now he's sure he's made a good call. If Kate is too drunk to protest being coddled... she's definitely too drunk.
"'Mkay."
She settles back into a position he hopes is more comfortable than it looks, wedged awkwardly between the seat back and his shoulder. Yeah, he would never have guessed it, but apparently Kate Todd is a happy, flirty drunk. And a sleepy one.
He fishes his cell out of his pocket, swears at it a little (he still hasn't got the hang of the damn thing), and eventually manages to successfully call a cab. Now all he has to do is coax Kate outside and hope the cool air sobers her up a little so he can get her home with minimum fuss.
Ten minutes later the cab arrives, and he's more or less resigned to the fact that Kate is also a cuddly drunk, too. If she remembers this in the morning... well, he really hopes she doesn't. She seems more sober, her eyes are clear (and not half closed) but she shows no signs of willingness to let go of his arm.
Once in the car she nestles back into his side in a way that speaks of familiarity and ease. Part of him is actually pretty touched. Usually these days the only person who really treats him with such casual warmth is Abby. Till now he'd never have thought Kate - even when drunk - liked him enough to be this comfortable with him.
The short ride is silent, and Gibbs is perfectly happy to leave it that way. Kate yawns hugely as they pull up to her apartment building, and doesn't protest when he helps her out of the taxi and then shadows her safely to the door, keeping an eye out as she fumbles for her keys.
The lock clicks open and he puts a hand on the heavy glass door, pushes, holds it ajar for her to go through. She glances at him with a half smile and mumbles a "thank you". He bobs his head, shrugs a shoulder, his way of saying "you're welcome" without actually having to, you know, say it.
He's about to let it close behind her when she turns on her heel back towards him, leans on the door, catches his eye.
"Gibbs?" She looks up at him, all big brown eyes and mussed hair, and he's unhelpfully reminded that their Kate... well, she's a beautiful woman.
"Uh-huh?"
He's surrounded in a swirl of her perfume and has no idea whatsoever what to expect.
"Come up with me?"
But whatever he had expected, it wasn't that.
Up till now the expression of someone's heart being in their throat has never made sense to him. He swallows hard against the surprise and confusion and (he is only human) temptation.
"I." He coughs to clear his throat, then starts again. "I don't think that's a good idea, Katie."
She looks away and her face closes up. "Okay." She waves a hand. "Sorry, I-" Shakes her head. "Don't know what I was-" She cuts herself off, and he gets the impression she's said more than she meant.
He's still so off balance from the unexpected request, the even less expected implication, that she's gathering herself and turning away from him, the moment almost gone before he manages to blurt out, "Kate. Wait."
Her eyes are wary, and he hopes he's managing to smile in a non creepy, non scary boss type way. "Drink plenty of water." She gives him a look, managing to slap on a veneer of disdain over the embarrassment. "And, uh."
She narrows her eyes, and now it suddenly seems like he's the one under the microscope.
"When you, ah, wake up, you know, um. When you're... sober. Gimme a call? If- if you want, I mean."
Now she tilts her head to one side, weighing up what he's said. He attempts another smile. "Please?"
He almost wishes he has a camera to hand to capture her expression of astonishment: eyes wide and eyebrows stratospheric. "Uh. Okay."
He grins properly now, and steps forward to drop a light kiss on her cheekbone before backing away and letting her take the weight of the door, giving himself safe distance so he doesn't give in to a drunken impulse.
"Night," he says.
She nods. "Night." She lets the door close, but she's still staring at him, and he lets himself wink at her before he makes himself turn around and head back to the cab.
Safely back in the car, he peers back through the window just in time to see her watching as the cab drives off. He shakes his head, wondering whether he's just done an incredibly wise or an incredibly stupid thing. Whether tomorrow he'll curse himself for giving in to a vulnerable moment.
He grins again as he settles back in the seat. She might call in the morning. She just might. And that thought alone makes him feel like a lucky son of a bitch.
He can definitely live with that.