Disclaimer: I own nothing except my body. And even that's damaged goods considering I was told today that the thumb on my right hand is pretty much out of action for the next month.

Tate fans, are you still out there?! I've only just come onto fanfiction but it looks like things are pretty quiet on the Tate front. Other people still worship them, right? Nobody really believes Kate's dead, right? Right?!

---------------------------------------------

It started and ended with Rule 12.

I poke around at the food on my plate, desperately trying not to look at the man sitting opposite me. Karl someone-or-other. Maybe it was a bad idea to agree to go on a date with him. I mean, he's nice, reasonably attractive, intelligent and…boring. He's not chauvinistic, immature, arrogant and ultimately irresistible. Karl isn't Tony.

Somehow, I'm able to survive the night. I finish my food, talk, smile without looking him in the eye and even allow him to quickly kiss me goodnight. He smiles, telling me we should do this again. I manage another smile and let myself into my home, knowing there will never be another time.

I can't sleep. Since it ended two years ago, I have been on five dates and none of them have been much of an improvement on the one I just had. They all began and finished with the first date, and it was my fault. No, dammit-it's his fault. I never expected anyone to get under my skin the way he did, I never expected anyone to make me feel the way he did. And now that it's happened, I can't get over it.

It's no use hanging around my home. I throw on my coat, grab my bag and go to my car. I know exactly where I'm driving to. It's the same place I've gone after my first dates for the past two years. It's the same place I go every year on what would be our anniversary if it hadn't ended.

I go back to where it all started. And if I keep enough distance, no one will notice me sitting in my car and staring at a building.

-------------------------------------------

I'm still not sure how I agreed to this but somehow, Tony got me spending my Friday night at his apartment. He asked, I said yes and the next thing I knew, I'd walked into DiNozzo's Lair.

"A movie and dinner," Tony said, bringing the takeaway food to the couch I was seated on. "This sounds a lot like a date, you know."

"Don't flatter yourself," I told him as I took my container and a pair of chopsticks from him.

"So you think 'I'm here because I don't want to spend another Friday night alone' sounds better?" Tony asked with his mouth full.

I frowned in contemplation. On one hand, he had a very good point. On the other hand, the prospective 'date' next to me had food sticking out of his mouth. It's a toss up.

"I thought so," he said with a satisfied smile, taking my silence as an answer in itself. I can't win with this argument, either way.

"Are you going to start the movie?" I asked with a sigh, staring pointedly at the DVD's menu on the screen.

"Want me to turn the lights off, Kate?" Tony asked teasingly.

Normally, I'd think up a quick-witted response but for some reason my mouth failed me that night. I realised just how closely we were seated together on this couch-I could practically smell his aftershave, his cologne, his shampoo-and how all we'd have to do was move just an inch or two closer for our noses to be grazing, for his lips to meet mine. But I didn't want him to kiss me. Did I?

I realised Tony was still staring at me, still waiting for some type of anwer so I quickly elbowed him and turned my gaze back to the television.

"I guess that's a no," Tony groaned, rubbing his ribs where I'd jabbed him.

He started the movie; Rear Window-my choice from his collection. It was a win-win situation: I got to watch Grace Kelly the style icon and he got to watch a semi-horror movie that still allowed me to sleep at night.

The movie must have been about half over when I stopped it.

"What did you do that for?" Tony whined as I got up.

"I'm thirsty," I said over my shoulder as I walked towards his kitchen. Then my manners got the better of me and I turned to face him. "Do you want anything?"

"Wow, Kate-I didn't realise things were moving so quickly between us."

I rolled my eyes and took a step backwards, without seeing the cord right behind me. One moment, I was glaring at Tony and the next, I found myself looking at his ceiling.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked, rushing to my side and trying not to laugh.

I sat myself up and glared at the culprit: that little, innocent cord snaking along the floor to a powerpoint.

"Fine," I told him as I stood up, praying that I wasn't blushing from embarrassment.

"Maybe I should get the drinks," Tony suggested. "Who knows what you might trip over in the kitchen."

I opened my mouth to respond but he'd darted out of the room before I had the chance. With a sigh, I walked back to the couch and sat down.

"Uh-Tony?" I called out moments later.

He walked back into the room with two bottles of beer, throwing me an inquisitive look.

"I think there's something wrong with my thumb," I told him.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked, sitting down next to me.

"It doesn't like moving," I announced. "I stuck my hands out when I fell and I must have landed badly on my right hand."

He took my hand gently in his and examined my thumb. It surprised me; I'd expected him to laugh my concerns off or give me the beer, a slap on the back and tell me to get over it. I didn't expect him to frown and start playing doctor. I couldn't tell what was more surprising: his concern or the fact that his touch was forcing me to repress shivers of pleasure.

"Can you move it at all?"

I grimaced as my thumb gave a feeble wiggle.

"I'm pretty sure it's not broken," he told me. "It could be a sprain. We should bandage it up."

Tony disappeared into the kitchen again and came back with a first aid kit.

"I knew someone who sprained the tendon in their thumb once," he said as he started winding a bandage around my hand.

"Why do I think this person was a woman?"

"She wasn't just any woman-she was a pianist. And she couldn't play the piano for a month afterwards."

"Which is where you came in."

"Someone had to distract her. I mean, the only two things she was good at were playing the piano and-"

"I get it," I quickly interrupted him. "No need to finish the story."

"And it was such a good one, too," he said, finishing up the bandaging. "Is it too tight?"

"No," I told him as he put the clip in. "Thank you for doing this, by the way."

I realised that his hands were still resting on my bandaged hand and I looked up at him in surprise.

"Tony," I began in a quiet voice, but the other words died on my lips as I completely forgot what I was going to say.

We leaned forwards at the same time-another thing I couldn't explain, like why I'd agreed to come here tonight and why his touch was sending shivers down my spine. We paused for a moment and I could feel his warm breath on my face before his lips finally closed the distance between us.

He kissed me tentatively at first, just brushing my lips with his own. He pulled away, looking in my eyes and when he got the confirmation he needed, he put his hand behind my head and pulled me to him, kissing me deeper, more desperately. I responded just as eagerly as feelings I never expected to feel for Tony swirled about within me. Sure we'd had a flirty, bickering relationship up until now but I never thought anything would come of it.

I gasped in pain as I absent-mindedly moved my hand, having forgotten all about hurting it before.

"What is it?" Tony asked as he pulled back, looking at me with concern.

"My hand," I said apologetically.

"I can fix that," he told me as he started pulling me towards him again.

I placed my uninjured hand over his mouth and pulled back.

"You already have, doctor," I told him playfully. "But I think we should leave it at this for tonight."

"You're going?" Tony asked incredulously as I removed my hand.

"I am."

"How? You shouldn't drive tonight with your hand like that."

"Feel like giving me a lift?"

"Interesting," Tony said slowly. "If I give you a lift, that means your car will still be here..."

"And I'll have to come get it back sometime," I finished for him as I stood up.

He took a step towards me and started buttoning up the coat I'd just put on. I let him do this, wondering how it had been so easy, so natural for us to slip into this state. He straightened up my collar and pushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear and a mild concern settled in. How many other women had he looked at like this?

"Kate, if we're going to do this, there's something I want you to know," he told me, playing with a strand of my hair. "I won't treat you like I've treated the others. You're different to them. You deserve more. This is something I've wanted for a long time and I'll try to be better. But I'm guessing that won't always be easy. Are you in?"

It was like he'd read my mind, I thought as a smile spread across my face.

"I'm in," I said. "Let's just take things slow, okay?"

I brought his lips to mine for another kiss and then he drove me home.

I'd never been so grateful for an injury in my entire life.

--------------------------------------------------

I only stay for as long as the memory lasts. I don't want to go past this one memory-not tonight-so I drive back home as soon as it's over.

His light had been on while I was there. I could tell, even from the distance I was at. I don't want to think about what he was doing tonight; who he might have been entertaining.

I pull on the coziest pair of pyjamas I can find and curl up in bed, waiting for sleep to come. It finally pulls me in and I wake up the next morning, relieved that I didn't dream of him.

I don't think I could take dreams on top of the memories.

-------------------------------------------------

Okay, so Kate's injury may have been inspired by my own current injury… All I can say is; Bose speaker cords are lethal. I was meant to start a Music degree in a week but I think I'm going to have to switch to something else. *Grumbles* Actually, I have another word of wisdom: don't trip over any cords in the hopes of having your own Tony come rescue you. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen. You just start giggling at your stupidity (your friends do eventually join in) and then you wake up with a baaad hangover, pretty much unable to move your thumb.

End of rant.

Anyhow, is it any good? Show your love for Tate (and console me in my sprained tendon agony) and:

REVIEW!

(Please.)