She could hear him moving around downstairs, the smell of coffee slowly starting to waft into the bedroom, but she had no desire to do anything other than sleep in on a Saturday morning, lest they get called into work due to some hideous emergency.
If it was a warm day- as warm as it could be in Washington in April- she was going to go on a run. That is, if she ever felt the need to get up. She didn't feel particularly moved at the moment, so instead she snuggled deeper into the soft quilts, inhaling the smell of sawdust that seemed to be permeating everything in the house.
And then she heard something crash to the floor, tensing as she did so, remembering the feeling of handcuffs on her wrists, tasting blood in her mouth.
And then she snapped back to herself, wrapping the quilt around herself and walking downstairs, wrapped in it, yawning all the while.
"Damn it!" she heard the curse from the kitchen, the crunch of shattered glass being stepped on. She walked in, confused, only to find Gibbs sucking at a cut on his finger, staring down at scattered roses, dirt, and what might have once been a vase but was now a pile of glass shards, just waiting to dig themselves into skin. One had already found its mark.
"Gibbs, what are you doing?" she asked, hiding a smile.
"I'm… uh… good morning." He rubbed a hand over the back of his head, "It's only April, and I wanted to… bring ya flowers. But my rose bush isn't bloomin' yet."
"Since when do you bring me flowers?" she asked, amused.
"I don't. And I wanted to change that." He sighed. "When do roses bloom?"
"May," she said definitely. "Mid to late May, even into June."
He cursed again under his breath.
"Does your thumb hurt much?" she asked, sympathetically.
"A little. I'll be fine though," he said gruffly, eyeing her from the corner of his eye. "Should get dressed."
"No, what I should be doing is grabbing a broom to wipe up your mess. And then grabbing bandages for your hand."
She threw the quilt on the couch, reluctantly stretching and welcoming the day, before grabbing a broom from the hall closet, walking back in to hand to Gibbs. She went into the bathroom to grab the Band-Aids, while he swept up his own mess.
The coffee smell was even stronger now, and she was grateful, because it was clearing the fog of sleep from her brain, chasing off the last strands of her nightmares. Gibbs was staring out of the kitchen window, a mug of coffee sitting on the counter in front of him.
"Hey," she said softly, "C'mere. I need to look at that cut on your hand."
Sighing, he allowed her to steer him over to the kitchen. He collapsed into a chair, before offering his hand. He was quiet, only wincing as she prodded at the cut.
"I am not a doctor, but even I have to admit this is an impressive gash. What the hell did you do?"
"I broke a vase."
She disinfected it, and then bandaged it, clucking her tongue reproachfully, shaking her head ever so often. "Good at getting yourself into messes, aren't you?"
He grinned at her, "Is there a reason you're always patchin' me up, Katie?"
"You get injured a lot. Am I supposed to let you deal with it yourself?"
"What about Ducky?"
"I let him patch up the big things, Gibbs. But little things, like breaking a vase and stabbing yourself with the shards… or getting beaten up by my brother… I can fix that." She prodded at a scar he had threading through his eyebrow. He moved away, reaching with his other hand to jab her in the side.
She jumped a little, before sighing, rolling her eyes. He grinned. "Katie, I didn't ask for ya to be a doctor on top of bein' an agent."
"I know. And it's not like I'm a fan of domestic stuff-,"
"Trust me, I know."
"But I think I can handle something as simple as a few cuts and bruises," she reasoned. "Since when do you have a rose bush?"
"Planted it last year," he mumbled. "Was hoping that one day I could bring ya flowers." He suddenly wasn't meeting her eyes, and though she knew he hated being described as adorable, he was acting very shy all of a sudden.
She slapped a palm to the table. "That's what we should do today!"
He blinked, and raised an eyebrow, "We can… plant?"
"Flowers, Gibbs. It's not a crime to want a nice looking backyard," she reminded him.
He smiled, "I'm glad I have someone to remind me of that."
"Don't be sarcastic. It doesn't suit you."
"It suits me perfectly, Katie. Ya know that."
"I do know that, I'm just trying to ignore it."
He put a hand to his chest, "You wound me."
"Good, get used to it. And last I checked, I'm the one patching you up."
He grinned. "Gardening… so we're gonna get dirty?"
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "That's exactly what we're going to do."
XNCISX
She was patting dirt around the flowers she was planting, wiping her face with her hands, sighing at the dirt under her fingernails. "Damn it," she muttered, as she dropped her spade again. "I'm going to need a long bubble bath after this."
She heard a muffled snort from Gibbs, who was fixing stakes in the vegetable garden. "Can I join ya?" he asked, turning to look at her.
She continued with her work, her hands covered in the rich dark soil. "Thought you didn't like bubble baths, Gibbs."
"What can I say?" he shrugged. "You converted me, Katie."
"Good to hear it. But I'll be lucky if I'll be able to move tomorrow after all of this bending and kneeling."
"Last I checked, you were pretty flexible," he teased, walking past, administering a pinch to her rear that made her gasp, and glare at him.
"That isn't what I meant, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and you know that!" she said, slapping his hand away. "And where are you going?"
"To get ya a drink. You look thirsty," he said, smirking at the innuendo, but blinking innocently at her unimpressed look. "And ya have dirt all over your face. What were ya doin;', eating it?"
"No, Gibbs, I was doing actual work while you were over there playing with your wood."
"I was working the wood."
"Uh huh… is that what we're calling it now?"
"Keep it up, and I'm only buyin' a drink for myself, Caitlin."
She raised an eyebrow, amused. "Caitlin?"
"You act like a five year old, I'll act like your mom."
"She'd be terribly offended."
"I know, That's why I'm doin' it."
"You're absurdly pleased with yourself about this, aren't you?"
He nodded. "Lemonade?"
"Sure. Lemonade would be great."
She sat back on her heels, staring out across the garden. Gibbs had mowed the lawn while she had worked at the planting. So he was clean, and full of splinters from his garden stakes, while she was filthy and thirsty.
He walked back over to her, handing her a glass of lemonade. She was so grateful, she drank the whole thing without pause, and wordlessly held out her glass for more. "Hard work," he said, flopping on the grass beside her.
She nodded, gratefully, too tired to say anything else.
"You're doin' a good job."
"Do you know anything about flowers?"
"Do I need to?"
"I'd imagine you're having the harder time of it there, Gibbs, your hands are full of splinters."
"Vegetable stakes are harder than a boat," he admitted with a smile, narrowing his eyes as he looked over the backyard. "Flowers… vegetable garden… it's missin' something."
"Like what? Company? I think we'd scare the team by being that domestic."
"Oh!" He slapped a palm to his head, "Forgot to tell ya, Katie. Ducky is comin' for dinner."
She looked over herself, staring critically at her grass stained clothing and dusty hands. "As long as I can shower first." She sighed. "Okay, I'll bite. What's it missing?"
"Flowers need to bloom," he pointed out.
"I don't think you need to worry, Gibbs. It'll happen. Nature finds a way."
He turned his annoyed glance on her, and she smiled in response. "Don't appreciate the movie references, Agent Todd."
"I think you find them cute, secretly."
He chuckled. "Be that as it may, Kate, that isn't what I was goin' for."
"What else could we possibly be missing?" she asked, confused.
"Nowhere to sit," he gestured at the backyard.
"Lawn chairs?" she offered.
"I was thinkin' more a deck."
"A deck?" she asked, as if to ask if he was serious.
"Yeah, a deck. Somewhere we can sit, and eat… or talk… or…" he paused, and then smirked at her. "Ya know."
"Getting splinters in my ass doesn't sound very appealing, Gibbs."
"Mmm, you don't think it's romantic?" he asked. "Birds chirping… the smell of fresh grass…"
"If you want all that, open a window."
"I had ya pegged as an outside gal, Katie."
"I am, just not on the deck."
He stared. "The lawn?"
She rolled her eyes. "I was thinking of going camping, and putting our sleeping bags together after a long night of sitting by the campfire… staring up at the stars…"
His eyebrows went up as he contemplated it. "Well," he said finally. "Fine. But we're doin' that sooner rather than later."
She laughed, wincing as she stood up. "Ow."
"Sore?" he asked innocently.
"You know the answer to that." She kissed the top of his forehead, before walking away.
"I can help ya out!" he called.
She turned and smiled, "No thanks, Gibbs. You better make dinner if Ducky's coming."
XNCISX
Ducky had gone home late, but Kate had still gone and sat on the back steps once he'd left. She yawned to herself, stretching, before settling back against the wooden stairs, closing her eyes as she listened to the crickets chirping and the sound of the wind in the neighbor's trees.
"Katie?"
She jolted out of her doze, startled. "What is it, LJ?"
"Everythin' okay? You were quiet at dinner."
"I was lost in thought," she admitted.
"Why?"
"Oh just… we're being very… domestic, don't you think?"
"Yes. Is it a problem?"
"Well… no. But that's the problem."
He looked at her, confused, taking her hand and squeezing it. "It's a problem that it's not a problem?"
"Gibbs, this domestic stuff… what does it really mean? If this ended tomorrow… what would become of our domestic arrangements?"
"It's not gonna end tomorrow, because that would mean I'm an idiot."
"I'm just saying-,"
"No. Katie. Don't play the what if game. Do ya know how long it's been since someone other than me planted something back here? I'm never gonna complain about being domestic with ya. It makes it feel more real, ya know? And besides, it means I get to see a side of ya that the rest of the team doesn't. I get to see ya in the morning, smiling at me over your coffee. I get to see ya, worn out and readin' on the couch, in front of the fire. And I get to see ya plantin' flowers in my backyard." He cleared his throat. "In our backyard."
She eyed him suspiciously. "Our backyard?"
"I'm not ready to ask yet," he admitted. "But I am ready to… I'm ready. If you are."
She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'm ready if you are."
"Besides," his voice was concealing a laugh. "You gotta be around when the roses bloom. I planted 'em just for you, ya know."
"I know, LJ. And I can't wait to see the roses. And whatever else comes next."
The crickets were chirping, drowning out the other sounds, the final birds cheeping in the trees, and Gibbs smelled like fresh cut grass and sawdust and coffee. He kissed the top of her head.
"That's the spirit."