If he hadn't come close to running into her, he might never have noticed the young woman who ran through the park every day. And yet, every time he watched her, the retired Marine found something about her to be terrible familiar.
Maybe it was the way she ran, or the look of her dark brown hair tied into a ponytail. Her face was warm and welcoming, but he didn't know where he knew her from. Because he'd never seen her before in his life.
And yet, watching her… he felt as though her name was on the tip of his tongue. Her route took her through the park and right in front of the diner where he frequently went to get coffee. He didn't know why she ran so early in the morning. He was a Marine, regardless of the fact that he was not actively serving, and getting up at the crack of dawn was second nature. To see her everyday was an unexpected bonus for him.
Until the day at the beginning of spring when he decided that it was a good idea to go sit in the park to drink his coffee. It wasn't as if he had anywhere to go. He was visiting his family in the afternoon, but the morning stretched ahead of him, full of glorious potential. The sun was actually shining, even if the air was crisp and fresh around him, and he inhaled, closing his eyes for a second.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't enjoy much anymore, but he was happy.
And then someone ran into him, knocking both of them to the ground. His coffee was dropped in the scuffle, and when he opened his eyes in surprise, he found the young runner on the ground beside him. Up close her eyes were a dark brown, and they captivated him, as did the freckles sprinkled across her nose, and the flush in her cheeks. She wasn't even breathing hard, but she looked really guilty. "I'm so sorry!" she cried.
He sighed, and made to stand up, wincing at the pain. He wasn't getting any younger, as his body frequently liked to remind him. "No, it's okay."
"And you dropped your coffee. I should've been looking where I was going." She made to stand up, and then cried out in pain, collapsing into him. He caught her just in time, and-
She was attacking him, a hundred and twenty pounds of pure rage in a pantsuit, taking out her grief and frustration by hitting him. Repeatedly. He just let her, and then when she started to cry, Gibbs held her. She was young and had no crime scene experience, but she wasn't a murderer. And her boyfriend was dead. He let her cry, wrapped in his arms, and wondered if he'd ever get to hold her again.
She stepped back immediately, her eyes flashing, looking alarmed, and he realized that whatever he'd just seen, she'd seen it too. "Wow," she said, eyes wide.
"Did you see that?" he asked.
She shook her head, wordlessly, before stepping back towards him. "I should buy you another coffee."
"I'd love that, but I should be the one treating." On an impulse, he reached out and took her hand, which was scraped up from the contact with the ground. She looked down at their interlinked hands, and gasped-
She was still there, in her pantsuit, and he was skeptical because this was a young and inexperienced Secret Service agent, but he was shaking hands with her, and how had he agreed to let her be on his team?
Sitting across from her in a coffee shop, arguing with her, making jokes and buying her coffee, in a way that a boss shouldn't do, both of them with badges at their hips and the name "Ari" poison on their lips, and then she went missing that same day, and he raised hell to find her.
But who was she?
They were both dressed as Marines, and she had done her awards wrong, and he'd been calling her "ma'am" when he knew for damn certain that they were essentially playing dress up, but he didn't mind all the same. He actually enjoyed being bossed around by her.
The sub had tilted at a crazy angle, and suddenly she crashed into him, the smell of her hair filling his nose, and taking him by surprise. He wrapped his arms around her again, revelling in the fact that she'd crashed into him.
"Wow," she said softly.
"Yeah, that's what they all tell me."
And then she'd hit him, and he'd grinned, and even the COB hadn't been able to resist a smile.
And he knew then; he'd loved this woman. He was remembering it all. And it felt like his heart had been wrenched in two, because he remembered too much.
Kneeling down, because they may have all been in mortal danger, but there she was, sworn to protect him, sleeping on the floor, using a sweater as a pillow, the blanket she was covered with having slipping down. She looked so innocent and vulnerable, he felt as though he should've been the one protecting her, not the other way around. She may have protected the President, but as the one he loved, shouldn't he be protecting her? He pulled the blanket up so that it covered her, smoothing it out, and wanting to kiss her, knowing he shouldn't, but wanting to all the same. He loved her, dammit.
And there she was, jumping in the way of a bullet for him, sending a bolt of pure fear through his heart. He'd ran to her as soon as he could, kneeling down again, brushing her hair out of the way, knowing that she wouldn't notice in her relief. She had to know how he felt, and it was maybe the only confirmation he'd ever get from her, but she had just jumped in the way. For him. He helped her stand up, and he'd made some stupid comment, that he'd regret for the rest of his life, and then suddenly the back of her head was gone, and she was dead. She was lying on the rooftop, her beautiful mind in pieces, all the memories and thoughts and love bleeding out onto the roof.
Her name tumbled from his mouth like a prayer. "Katie," he breathed. "Katie, it's… it's me."
She looked up at him, new awareness in her eyes. "Jethro," she managed. "How…" And then her eyes filled with tears. "Jethro."
"I gotcha Katie," he said, wrapping his arms around her again, savouring the feeling of her in his arms, and she wasn't dead, she was alive. Or they were both dead. None of it mattered. He remembered her, and she remembered him.
She was crying as she pulled away, running her fingers over his face and his hair, as though memorizing it, as though she'd never see him again. It was like coming home after a long journey. "Kiss me," she begged. "Please. We never got to…"
"You got it, Katie." He leaned down and pulled her into a kiss. They were together.
Whatever came next didn't matter.