The Kibbs-ness in my brain refuses to shut off. I will be returning to "He Worries About Her" series after this… sadly, "I Really Hate You Right Now" series is on hold while I finish up the other series… This fic is a follow up to SWAK, and again is my attempt to delay having to watch "Twilight" and scream "Nooooooo!" at the very end. Enjoy reading, hopefully you don't die of the fluff because there is some underlying angst there. I love angsty/fluffy Kibbs. Reviews are beautiful. I only own student loans and certainly not these amazing characters. Sorry I had to re-post. For some reason, all of the things I put in italics suddenly had no spaces between the words. Hello unreadable. Here we go…
"Let's go," Gibbs called, taking Kate's hand and tugging her to her feet. He motioned to the wheelchair and gave her a charming smile when she scowled.
With a little sigh, she asked in her still-congested voice, "Can't I walk?'
"Hospital rules," he reminded, dropping a kiss atop her head and wheeling her toward the elevators.
She was glad he had showed up this afternoon when Tony had been transferred to an upstairs room. Much as she had found comfort in isolation with the eerily soothing ultraviolet light, it was nice to see daylight. By the time Gibbs arrived hours before with the news that the virus was dead, she had reached the end of her emotional rope.
A little part of her, a very girlish part, had been hurt when he rushed past her to Tony. Maybe it was the part of her that was still feeling like the baby of the family. But she had taken comfort a moment later as Ducky hugged her again, knowing without needing to ask that Gibbs had send their medical examiner to her in his place. Seeing that Gibbs wanted what they all wanted—for the fallen team member to pull through, and he was going to do anything it took to ensure it happened. Even the gentlest of head slaps.
It had made her give a little laugh through the tears, followed almost immediately by a bout of coughing. She was still a little amazed that modern science could bring someone back from the plague but was useless against her common cold.
"Katie? Don't make me turn around and take you back inside," Gibbs murmured as he eased the chair over the threshold.
"Hmmm?" she asked, smiling a little as he offered his hand to help her—unnecessary, but a sweet gesture. He could be incredibly sweet.
Gibbs held open the passenger's side door and watched as she shuffled in her sweats that Abby had brought over from Kate's apartments. "I asked where to. We can grab dinner or I can just drop you off."
She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, buckling herself in as he rounded the car and slid in behind the wheel. "I want a shower and a bed with sheets that don't smell like bleach. I can't even believe I'm still tired after laying around for forty something hours."
He buckled his own seatbelt and started the engine, pulling into the light evening traffic at a pace that was downright sedate… for him, anyway. "Sheets that smell like sawdust or sheets that smell like vanilla?"
It was an invitation, and it seemed that neither of them wanted to be alone quite yet. "Sawdust," she answered. They spent time at both of their places, but there was something intrinsically comforting about his place. Something very solid and very Gibbs about it.
The quiet settled in the car, and she didn't have the need to fill it. It settled around her like her favorite hoodie—the worn out one that she never wore in public anymore. She felt tired, and the clinical part of her brain reminded her that she had been riding on a lot of emotions the last day and a half, plus she was sick. She should count herself lucky that she had been allowed to check out of Bethesda at all.
Later, she stood in the doorway to the master bedroom wearing her own cotton pajama pants with the matching ultra soft t-shirt. Her hair was still damp from the shower, but the steam of the hot water had given her a reprieve from her headache. "You knew I would pick your place," she murmured as she watched him tuck in the last edge of the clean sheets.
"My gut," he answered, giving her his full grin as he pulled down the covers in invitation.
"Heaven," Kate sighed, crawling into the sheets and not holding back the yawn as she settled into the very center.
He settled her water bottle on the bedside table and stretched out beside her, unsurprised when she curled up against him. Calloused fingers combed slowly through her hair. "I almost dragged you out of isolation when you stayed with him."
She let the tresses fall across her face, hiding under it. It didn't fool him, for his next caress was stroking back the locks. "I couldn't leave him in there. Alone." There was an answer to that—that she wasn't leaving him, that his doctor and the nurse were still with him. But for once he didn't argue back.
"I know," came his rough answer, voice thick with its own emotions. His arms wrapped firmly around her, crushing her against his body, limbs tangling together.
Kate was sure that some people might look at them, as a couple, and think that she was the needy one. God knows she certainly had her moments. Many of them. But he had his own set of needs. He wasn't the gruff, totally in control leader that everyone else saw. Sometimes he was scared out of his mind. It was what made him insist that she go with Tony in the first place. When she had sneezed down in autopsy, that look he gave her was stark fear.
His hand stroked her back slowly, sliding under her shirt to caress the soft skin of her back, rubbing in a comforting circle between her shoulders. "I got there as fast as I could, Katie."
She nodded against his shoulder. "I know," she rasped, sniffling in a way that was part cold and part emotions. The energy was draining from her, and the emotions were taking their toll again, as was his hand against her back. Whenever she was restless about something, he always seemed to lull her to sleep like this. It was definitely a tactic meant to ensure she got rest. It was working. "Stay here with me for a while?"
Who's running on emotions now? She asked herself before pushing the thought away. They were both entitled after the last few days. His hand stroked down to her lower back, making her breath catch when it brushed just so. She should be too exhausted to feel anything, but she can't help but feel the little flush of warmth in her belly at his touch. Kate tucked it away for later.
"Right here," he promised. "You're stuck in this bed for at least tomorrow. "Breakfast in bed, sleeping, all day in bed."
It sounded like bliss. "I can handle that," she burred sleepily against his chest, breathing in. Despite her stuffy nose, she caught that hint of Gibbs and his fabric softener—the one she had convinced him to use and that he grudgingly admitted did make his shirts feel more comfortable.
He managed to tug the sheet up around them, his hand still traveling slowly along her back, needing to touch her and be sure she was there, beside him. Sleep tugged at her, dragging her back but this time with the promise of rest. Warm lips pressed to her temple, "Love you, Kate."