Disclaimer: No. Just no.
A/N: Christmas present for FliBbeRGibbIt, have a great day!
A/N2: First attempt at writing Kibbs. Gibbs introspective after Kate's death, looking back on their 'relationship'.
They were never lovers.
The thought occurred to him at her funeral, but that wasn't the first time. Maybe if he hadn't offered her the job, he would have asked her out instead. Maybe she would have said yes. They would have spent the night bickering and teasing each other. It could have been fun. It would have been fun. He knows, because he had it later, in a different way.
But he wanted her on his team. He loved how she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty, and how determined she was to equal Tony in everything. How she didn't take crap from anyone, not even him, and always said what she thought. She wasn't scared to make comments about his exes, in fact delighted in doing so.
He felt comfortable with her, able to relax and let loose a little.
They were closer than they let McGee or Tony see. They were friends, probably, more than other co-workers were.
She dragged him out for a drink. 'Kicking and screaming' he'd jested. As if you'd scream, she'd said. He'd smirked and made some teasing comment. She hit him, and blushed at falling into yet another innuendo trap. He loved making her blush.
He forced her to drink bourbon. She called it disgusting, then taken another sip. She understood what "with the grain of the wood" meant – a rarity in itself.
He cooked for her. She was nervous, untrusting in his abilities. He rolled his eyes.
"Try it, Katie. No one married me for my tact."
That time it was him who'd fallen into the trap. She never let him forget it.
He knew what her tattoo was. She had been reaching to sand the top of his boat, making her top ride up to reveal the intricate sun design on the small of her back. She never forgave him for his comment to DiNozzo, but in a joking way.
He kissed her once. He wasn't sure why, she was leaving his apartment after one of their dinners, and he'd just pressed his lips to hers. It was quick, almost platonic. She'd looked slightly shocked, and left. She stood on the other side of the door for five minutes, he could hear her irregular breathing through it. He wanted to say something, but he never did, and neither did she. They left it behind.
He wasn't sure it was the right thing to do, but it seemed to work for her.
Neither of them really knew why they lied, or lied by omission, about this friendship. Perhaps it was that there was something more to friendship, when they ate together, or went out together, a feeling of familiarity, a feeling of something that they didn't acknowledge.
He should have made a move, he realised, but only after it was too late. He should have done something, because it wouldn't have been right for her to, she wouldn't have felt like she should, but maybe she would have been happy if he had.
But Rule 12 had probably protected her. He would have hurt her, it was for the best.
And that's what he'd tell himself.
They were never lovers.
Secretly, he regrets that.
He has a lot of regrets.
The biggest is that he couldn't jump in front of the bullet.
But he's glad they were friends, or whatever they were.
How'd I do?
Merry Christmas!! =D