Kate was about to leave when she turned back towards Gibbs' desk. Something had been bothering her all day and she'd been tossing up whether to approach him about it. Now was an ideal opportunity. The bullpen was half-empty, Tony was not around and Gibbs didn't look too busy.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Gibbs raised his eyes from his desk to her face.
"You just did," he pointed out blankly.
She pursed her mouth: "Cute, Gibbs, real cute."
"What," he blinked at her from behind his glasses: "do you want to ask me about?"
She stepped closer to his desk.
"About rule number twelve."
She watched closely for his reaction. Something flared in him, deep down but he blinked again and it was gone.
"Yes?" he prompted, feigning some indifference, mixed with impatience.
She dove in, slightly unnerved by his steady gaze: "I just want some clarification. What's the official policy round here on dating a co-worker? And what constitutes a co-worker, is it just the agents, or the techies as well? And what constitutes dating really? I mean…" she took a breath but Gibbs stopped her babbling.
"If you're speaking of you and Tony—"
"Me and Tony?" she screwed up her nose, and knit her brow: "What, are you insane? No, no – God, no." She shook her head as if to dispel the thought.
"Then whom are we speaking of?" Gibbs asked, taking off his glasses and leaning back in his chair.
All the better to study you with, my dear, she thought. She met his curious gaze and paused.
Crossing her arms, one corner of her mouth turned up: "That, I believe, is my business."
Another spark went off in Gibbs' eyes. She saw it but once again, he squelched it quickly. Did he think she spoke of him? she wondered.
He dropped his gaze to his desk and pushed at some papers with his fingertips. "An agent?" he asked.
"Yes," she admitted: "But we've never worked a case together." In fact, she'd never even noticed Agent Pryce before, but he'd apparently noticed her before asking her out that day in the staff lunchroom. At the time, she'd been somewhat charmed by him and the way he'd approached her, but her stomach had clenched when she thought of Gibbs' reaction.
"Doesn't mean you won't," Gibbs replied: "And doesn't mean that it can't become a problem."
She looked at the floor. It was about the response she'd expected from her guarded boss, but she never went out anymore, she never met anyone she liked, and she blamed him on more than one level.
She sighed: "All I want to know is if I decide to go out with this guy…"
'If' – Gibbs liked that 'if'.
"…am I actually breaking the rules and are you going to make my life hell?"
Gibbs leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and steepling his fingers together: "I cannot stop you dating in house, Kate, I just wouldn't personally recommend it."
"Yeah, I already got that part."
He looked up at her clenched tone; there was bitterness buried in her words, and hurt. Her eyes were narrowed, boring into his and he remembered the flush of shame and her swift retreat when he'd told her that romance between agents never works. He'd not meant to be that pointed with her but he knew she'd taken it that way. The expression on her face had kept him awake that night and he had a feeling that the expression on her face now would be haunting him tonight.
His tone softened: "I won't make your life hell." He forced a little smile: "If you like him, say yes."
'If, if, if,' he wondered.
She nodded briefly, and gave a tight smile that showed no joy or relief. Ah, now he saw her dilemma – she didn't really want to go out with the mystery man. She was looking for a reason not to, he reckoned, and was just using rule 12 and his disapproval as an excuse. Suddenly he pitied the poor sod. It had to take guts to approach and ask out a woman like Kate. She was the complete package; both beautiful and sexy, both smart and sassy, both young and successful, both sweet and strong. Plus, she handled a firearm with great skill. He could easily see how she would intimidate some men, particularly younger men. Twenty years ago she probably would've scared the hell out of him. Obviously he hadn't matured much – now it was just a different kind of scare.
There was also the fact that Kate fell under his protection and anyone in this office would know that. Kate, he knew, could stand up for herself, but to cross her was to cross him and that made the mystery man almost worthy of his admiration. Almost. Brave or stupid, he must really like her, he thought, and it wasn't hard to see why. She was worth the risk.
Kate had turned away and was back at her desk, scanning the surface as if she'd forgotten something.
"It's probably not a good idea," she mused, lightly, mostly to herself. After a moment she looked at him, expecting him to concur.
Gibbs looked away and fondled his empty coffee cup. "Up to you," he said non-committally.
"Yeah, well…" she took a deep breath and left her desk. "Guess I'll think about it," she took a few steps backwards, giving him a little wave: "Night," then she turned and left.
Gibbs stood and stretched his arms above his head, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. He casually scanned the bullpen for anyone watching Kate's progress to the elevator but no one caught his eye. As far as he could tell, the only person showing an inordinate amount of attention to his young subordinate was the man standing behind his desk. He sat with a huff, pushing away the file in front of him and, swiveling his chair, he found himself staring fixedly at her now empty desk and chair. She was worth the risk -- he knew it to the depths of his ragged and hidden heart.
If, if, if only he could just take the chance.
But, he doubted, was he – old, ragged and difficult -- worth the risk for her?