A/N: This is my first NCIS fic. It's very short, a drabble I suppose. I haven't seen all the episodes, but I just cannot restrain myself any longer. Most of the first ones I watched had Ziva in them, and I was apathetic about Kate. However, since USA has been showing season 1 over again, I've unfortunately gotten attatched to Kate and am now in serious denial about 'Twilight'...anyway, moving on. This is from a scene in the episode 'Minimal Security' when the team goes to Guantanamo Bay and Agent Paula Cassidy is featured for the first time. I'm in denial about Jenny, as well. Therefore I come out with this.
For your reading pleasure, I do hope.
"Romance between agents, Kate? It never works."
"You speaking from experience?"
He just glared at her, his facial expression the same unreadable mask, his eyes the same piercing see-all sapphire. Kate only hesitated briefly before turning with the laptop and leaving, her brow creased slightly in frustration, giving Tony's tightly shut door a somewhat sympathetic look as she sequestered herself in her own room. She didn't bother to shut the door, she just stepped behind it and made a quick change into pajamas, settling onto the bed with her chin in her palm, giving Agent Cassidy's 'borrowed' computer a blank look.
Half the time, she couldn't decide if Gibbs just liked to play the asshole, or if he really was that much of one. Kate couldn't quite fathom what had Tony more messed up about Cassidy than any other woman, other than the fact that she knew how much he wanted a glimmer of Gibbs' approval, and the way their Boss had dismissed him as no more than a hormonal teenage boy with no brains had nettled Tony. Hurt him, even.
Kate shoved her hair back behind her ears, minutely annoyed at it falling in curtains around her face. She traced her finger around the logo on Cassidy's laptop. He couldn't even answer the question: was he speaking from personal experience? Gibbs was smart, shrewd, he had a sixth sense when it came to their work—but who was he to say what would work out for two people different from him? As much as he wanted to be, Tony wasn't Gibbs.
Kate sat up straighter and rolled her shoulders back, tilting her head slowly from side to side to stretch, work out the stress in her muscles. She heard Gibbs slam something down and clink a glass in the kitchen. She couldn't help but hope he'd for once push the job aside and get some damn rest. She shifted her head towards her open doorway and strained her hearing; he walked across the tiled floor and back, his shoes still on, and a drawer opened and closed. She resisted the urge to scowl at the door. She hated how he frustrated her so much…perhaps because she didn't understand why he felt the need to act the way he did.
She ran her hand up through her hair and over her face, holding back an enormous yawn, when the next thump of movement in the house sounded closer. A ghost of a smile flitted across her face, as she momentarily pictured a hoard of iguanas mercilessly attacking Tony. She was still half-smiling when she pulled her hands away from her face and nearly leapt out of her skin, barely holding back a shriek, when she spotted Gibbs standing in the doorway like the bad guy in the horror movies who creeps out of nowhere.
"Dammit, Gibbs!" Kate cursed, her voice a hissing whisper. She clenched her fist at chest level, glaring daggers at him. She opened her mouth slightly to speak when something about his eyes halted her angry rant. He stared at her long and hard, as if peering into her thoughts, the lines on his face seeming more defined.
"I do," he started quietly, in his usual low, dangerous grumble, "speak from experience," there was a tinge of sarcasm to his tone now, barely there, as he threw her words back in her face.
Kate swallowed, pressing her lips together, a dread settling in her stomach that she couldn't figure out. Gibbs dipped his head down and back up, in the time it took to blink, standing in the doorway with his palms braced against the frame. Kate's heartbeat caught in her throat as she watched a flicker of a deeper sadness rear its head in his cerulean ice eyes. When he spoke again, quieter and less threatening, his voice was scratchy, and his words were heavy, final, and laced with a history she'd never be allowed to know.
"Her name was Jenny,"
A/N: *opens eyes* Well, what is the verdict, my dears? Do please drop a line and tell me what you think.
I think perhaps you can read very subtle Kibbs into that if you like. Let's not call it unrequited, as I personally see their dynamic as a father-daughter thing, with perhaps a bit of romantic fascination on Kate's part. But I'm a Jenny/Jethro girl :]