Kate thumped on the door for the third time, then stood glaring at it, hands on hips. She was supposed to be getting ready for a date - admittedly one she'd been less than totally excited about - but a case had changed her plans. She really hated being on call on weekends. It wasn't that she resented working on what were supposed to be days off. It was the uncertainty of it. She'd almost rather know that her Saturday and Sunday were going to be swallowed up, and at least not have the expectation of having a social life.

And now, just to make her evening that little bit better, Gibbs had failed to answer either of his phones. She was the newbie, the probationary agent - the grunt - and so she had been delegated to come find him. Disturbing his evening, and whatever plans he might have had, had not featured highly on her list of fun things to do, but not managing to find him would be even worse. She was going to have to go in uninvited. Oh joy.

Supposedly, he left his front door unlocked. It was fairly solid office scuttlebutt, corroborated by DiNozzo when the latter was feeling unusually helpful, but it had always seemed fairly unlikely to her that a guy as wary (not to say paranoid) as Gibbs wouldn't have his place shut up like Fort Knox. Given that she'd yet to master the art of picking a lock, though, it was her best shot.

Tentatively, she tried the door. It was a little stiff, but did open. "Well, then," she muttered. Tony had been telling the truth after all.

It felt strange to be visiting Gibbs' house, stranger still to be letting herself in so casually even though she'd never been here before. She opened the door halfway and poked her head in.

"Gibbs?"

Still no answer. There was no way she could go back to the Navy Yard and admit she hadn't had the guts to go in his house on her own, and that was about the only thing stopping her from giving up. With a resigned sigh, she stepped inside and allowed the door to swing shut behind her.

"Gibbs?" She wouldn't put it past him to shoot unwanted visitors, and giving him as much warning as possible seemed a good plan, though she felt an idiot calling his name out repeatedly.

Instinctively, she inspected the hallway as she walked along it, noting details and layout, peering into a couple of rooms as she went. It was an older house, had probably been a beautiful home once. Now it had an air of neglect, of requiring some TLC. Bit like Gibbs. She smiled despite herself. It was a strangely apt comparison.

"Anyone home?"

Still no answer.

"Damnit, Gibbs, where the hell are you?" This was said more to herself, in frustration.

At the end of the hall was another door, the last possibility. There was no way, she'd already decided, that she was going to investigate upstairs. She'd rather work alone all night to solve the case than go sneaking around trying to find his bedroom. That was just... She wasn't going to go anywhere near that thought.

With more confidence than she really felt, she turned the handle and pushed at the door. It opened onto wooden steps leading downwards. The basement. The boat? That was another story of Tony's she'd been reluctant to put too much trust in. Now she'd see for herself.

"Gibbs?" She was still concerned about the possibility of being shot. "It's Kate." With Gibbs there was no absolute guarantee that knowing it was a work colleague disturbing him meant he wouldn't shoot, but she figured he'd be slightly happier to see her than to see a burglar. "We couldn't get an answer on your phone."

Halfway down she heard the soft snoring, and when she got to the bottom she found him curled on his side on a threadbare couch, a blanket wrapped messily around him, and a chipped mug set next to a half finished bottle of bourbon on the floor.

She stopped dead, swallowing hard against the sudden lump in her throat. She'd never exactly had the impression Gibbs-outside-the-office would be a happy go lucky guy with a sunny disposition, but she hadn't expected him to be passing out on ratty furniture, either. She'd kind of imagined he had more of a life outside of NCIS than this scene suggested.

When she could bring herself to look round, she saw the boat. Yet another Gibbs legend that turns out to be true. She stepped closer quietly, even reverently.

Kate was no carpenter, and it was obviously a long way from finished, but as she gazed at it she could imagine the kind of work and devotion that had gone into it. With a glance over her shoulder at Gibbs, who seemed to be sleeping still, she moved over towards the boat, and tentatively reached out to glide a hand over an exposed rib.

The wood was smooth, almost silky to touch, and she found herself exploring the surface with both hands, admiring the workmanship. She had never had strong opinions either way about boats, she didn't hate them but didn't particularly love them either. This, though, was almost a work of art.

She almost forgot where she was, absorbed in its beauty, in the warmth of the wood and the feel of it under her fingers, when she heard a noise from behind her, and span around. "I'm sorry, I-"

Gibbs was sitting up, staring at her, looking a little lost, and the expression on his face made the words stick in her throat. He blinked a couple of times. "What're you doing here, Kate?" His voice was gravelly with sleep.

"I'm- there's a case." She shrugged and tried to smile convincingly. "You didn't answer your phone..."

"Oh." He slowly stood up, rolled his shoulders, appeared to pull himself together a little. He glanced down at the blanket and the evidence of his drinking, and pressed his lips together.

Kate shifted uncomfortably. She was obviously an unwelcome intruder, however necessary it had been, and had become a reluctant witness too. "I'm sorry I woke you."

He shrugged a shoulder, gaze still lowered. "No problem, Kate." He ran a hand over his face and hair, sighed heavily. "It's no problem."

Finally he looked up and caught her eye again. He looked... embarrassed, actually. Ashamed. Not a regular Gibbs emotion. She didn't always find his face that easy to read, but just now he could almost have been speaking aloud.

He was silently pleading with her to pretend she'd only just got there, that she hadn't seen him looking like a lonely old man, that she had missed the well used mug and bottle, the redness in his eyes. That she'd let his 'Gibbs the invincible' act stay safely intact, and pretend she'd never seen him look weak.

She swallowed hard, then nodded ever so slightly, and he nodded back, looking relieved, letting go a long breath.

"Can I- ah- I mean, would you like a ride?"

He paused for a second, studying her face, then shook his head decisively. "No, I can drive myself. Go on ahead - I'll see you there."

He was back to his usual self now, all Gibbs, all business, dismissing her, and she tried not to take it personally. She headed for the stairs and took them at a brisk trot. Sooner she was out of here, sooner they could both go back to normal and she could start trying to forget this uncomfortable glimpse into Gibbs' life.

She was definitely not expecting him to stop her before the basement door had had a chance to close behind her.

"Kate?"

Reluctantly, warily, she turned round, peered round the doorframe.

He was at the foot of the steps, leaning on the wall, head cocked slightly to one side and blue eyes narrow and intent.

What now? "Yeah?"

There was a moment of them just looking at each other, then he nodded again, his mouth briefly stretching into what could have been a smile. "Thanks, Kate."

.Just when she thought she'd got the hang of the man. She smiled back and shrugged. "Um. You're welcome," she managed. "I'm- I'm glad I got to see your boat."

That was definitely a proper smile. "Me too, Kate," he said, with such sincerity she was almost convinced he meant it. "See you at NCIS."

"OK." She bit her lip, considering for a moment, then added, "Look after yourself, Gibbs."

He chuckled drily. "I'll try."

Kate grinned, then took another step and let the door close behind her.

For a few moments she stood in the corridor, shaking her head, wondering if she would ever get a handle on the man. Every time she thought she had, he'd go and prove her wrong.

Then her cellphone shrilled.

Tony. Work. She flipped the phone open. "Hi, Tony."

"Kate, did you find him? Is he OK? Are you OK? Where are you? I'm swamped back here."

He sounded decidedly overwhelmed and she couldn't help laughing. "Maybe you'll do your own dirty work next time, DiNozzo. I found him, he's fine. I'm just heading back, Gibbs is following. Be with you in a few."

She snapped her cell shut on his indignant protest, and walked back out to her car. The mystery that was Gibbs would have to wait. It was time to get back to the case.