Title: Flowers
Pairing: Anthony DiNozzo/Caitlin Todd
Rating: T for language. And enough angst to drug a horse.
Summary: Because only the man Caitlin Todd loves would leave her favourite flowers at her door.
Songs: Saying Sorry – Hawthorne Heights, We Are So Last Year – Hawthorne Heights, You and Me – Lifehouse, Downfall – Matchbox Twenty, You're Beautiful – James Blunt, One Last Chance – James Morrison, The Trinity – Sean Paul, When You Were Young – The Killers, Light Surrounding You – Evermore, Hanging By A Moment – Lifehouse, Lovin' Each Day – Ronan Keating, Welcome to the Black Parade – My Chemical Romance, amongst others
Flowers
By Kitsune Lauz
There is a man standing outside an apartment building with no idea why he's there. He has inkling that some part of it must have had something to do with a bubble of emotion growing inside of him and he vaguely summons up a logical fact; that the bubble must have burst. But these feelings are a detached, wavering part of him now, a volatile spirit hovering in the air between two hard choices. And it's even harder for him to admit to himself what those two choices are.
He wonders if she's noticed him yet, and that draws him further back, an awkward half-stumble into the recesses of the opposite building's shadows. But no, Kate's not like that, he reasons. If Kate had seen him, she would have come down, however hesitantly, however strange it would have been for her to see him there. She would have come, if not to ask why, to at least make sure he was alright.
Kate was good like that. It was rather puzzling, how the mind worked, urging emotions on in a forever game of chess, of knights and castles and horses.
Check mate, you're out.
It was much too hard to describe his relationship with Kate. She was so perfect yet so…Kate. There was no other way to explain it. It was too hard to describe, it was incomprehensible, the things Kate did to him; half the time, he didn't understand it either. When she had first joined the team, Tony had found it hard to figure out what exactly made Kate tick. He still didn't know.
Even now, there was still that – what was it? Sexually charged tension, he seemed to recall Ducky calling it once, or something like that. He guessed it was a bit of that (he'd be lying if he said otherwise), but with Kate it was more than just a one-night fling or that "one time when you were drunk." And that's when Tony realised; he was in some deep shit. With Kate, it was of growing old (however Tony was reluctant to think about it, it would happen) and telling their grandchildren about the "good old days." He smiled at that thought. He wondered what Kate would say when – if – he ever had enough courage to go up there and…what? He sighed. He didn't even know.
So where did all that leave him?
Standing outside Kate's apartment building, with flowers drooping in his hands.
God, he was pathetic. How many times had he done this now? Just stood outside her building and wondered? Countless times, he confirmed to himself. Too many times. A growl of thunder whipped across the sky, startling him from disturbing thoughts. He looked up at the darkening sky, not surprised when it started to rain. So the weather forecast had been right today.
The rain splashed on his face, huge globules of water trickling down his stubbled chin, dripping from his nose, gathering on his eyelashes. He pulled up the hood of his coat, warmth engulfing the dampness of his hair and skin. Slowly, but surely, he made his way to the door of Kate's apartment, feet hitting the ground with a muffled splash each step, ripples running through the ground. He placed the flowers at her door, flower petals glistening with water droplets. He stowed them in a sheltered alcove out of sight. Tony had used this alcove many times before, all for the same reason. The wind wouldn't ruin the flowers there. They were safe there, without a yearning, aching heart or pained sighs unheard.
The rain fell hard, smattering mercilessly against any of his exposed skin. He flinched slightly, the cold truly biting at his skin now that he had completed his task. The slow realisation that it was icy rain bombarding him sank in. Maybe next time, he thought to himself with a rueful smile. He thrust hands deep into his pockets as he walked away, buried in the noise of the rain, feet crunching against grass and gravel.
The silence of a wordless soul, with only one person's name lingering on his lips.
Kate brought theflowers into the office yet again, placing them on her desk as she carefully removed yesterday's from the vase on her desk, taking one of their petals off and fingering it, revelling in the velvet texture before throwing the flowers out. The new flowers took their place in the vase, where she could always see them in the corner of her eye as she worked. Her favourite kind of flower, nonetheless. A smile graced her features as she toyed with the petals, before picking them up to smell them, yet again. For days, she had been receiving flowers on her doorstep in the dead of the night from a mysterious admirer. There was no note, no card. Nothing.
Just beautiful flowers.
The first day she had found them, it had been a Saturday. She had thought it was a mistake and had gone to her neighbour's, a sweet-natured girl in her mid-twenties. She had taken one look at the flowers, looked at Kate and quirked an eyebrow.
"As much as I'd like to say a guy loves me that much…" she had trailed off with a whistle. "Well, you're a lucky girl, Kate," she had given a smile as Kate thanked her numbly and left.
She had gone to her other neighbours, only to receive further good wishes and enviable smiles. Still, maybe the giver of the roses had written the wrong street number or something. It was a thought, at least. She wasn't trying to deny herself anything; it wasn't that at all. Then again, maybe this was what too many nights sitting in front of the T.V. with Chinese takeout did to you. She sighed. It was getting dark, too. She hadn't been able to get much done, she thought as she looked at the flowers, dumbfounded. She had been too busy with…these. They were her favourite kind, too.
She shook her head, turning to look at the sky. It looked like it was going to rain soon. That night, she put the roses in a vase of water by her bed.
Just to preserve them for tomorrow, when their owner comes to take them, she told herself. That was all.
The second day, she had to admit, it had become a bit of a coincidence. Coincidences don't exist, Gibbs' voice seemed to rap at her sharply. Then what was this? Kate questioned infuriated. No one had come to collect the flowers from yesterday and now there were even more…Kate stared at the flowers in her hand, puzzled. Could she…really?
She went to bed with one thought that night.
Maybe, just maybe…
The third day she had been in a rush to get to work on time after waking up late and, forgetting about her mysterious admirer, almost stepped on the flowers on her way out. She had stopped just in time and knelt down to pick them up and smell them, a smile growing on her face.
She was late to work that day.
The fourth day, she remembered again just in time. And she finally admitted to herself it was no coincidence that these flowers appeared for her every day. Someone out there was taking the time to put her favourite flowers on her doorstep.
She wasn't sure what to expect on the fifth day – sooner or later, the gifts had to stop, right? But when she opened her door, she wasn't disappointed. A smile of joy lit her features as she picked them up and held the flowers close.
Who was it though?
The thought struck her uneasily. Could it…could it actually be? But no. He and her didn't fit, didn't match up. No matter how much she wanted it to be him, it never would be.
Would it?
By the sixth day, she had a routine. When she woke up, she would change, brush her teeth, rush outside to find the flowers, gulp down her breakfast and be off to work.
That day, she had decided to bring the flowers with her.
She had been doing it for a few days now. She honestly had no idea why she'd decided to take them to work the first time or every other time after that.
A small, little, miniscule part of her whispered that it was to make a certain Italian co-worker jealous, but she easily tuned that out. It hadn't been working, anyway.
It wasn't long before Tony arrived, sliding into the office just in time to avoid a vicious "you're late" thwack on the head greeting from Gibbs. He was muttering a tune under his breath, probably a theme song from yet another famed movie but it died out as he reached Kate's desk, eyes on the flowers. He stopped in front of her desk, fingers playing with the flower's petals, an unreadable expression on his face.
"Stop that, DiNozzo," Kate berated, grabbing his hand. She didn't let go. "You'll ruin them," she said, voice quieter.
"They're pretty flowers, Kate," he turned to her with a small smile. Kate could see a twinkle in his eye.
What for?
Say something, Caitlin Todd. Or do you want him to think you're more of an idiot than before?
"Yeah," she paused. "They are."
A silence ensued, a quiet soothing gasp of air. Kate looked down at their hands, before something clicked in her head.
She was discussing her secret admirer's flowers with – Tony! Holding – barely holding, really – his hand!
She dropped his hand like it was on fire. Tony wasn't looking at her now.
"I still don't know who sent them," she supplied lamely. It had been a running banter between her and DiNozzo, why she didn't figure it out, stay up all night and see who came. Tony had even offered to do it for her. She had refused. Kate said the element of surprise was nice and he'd reveal himself when he was comfortable with doing so. He'd said that maybe the guy was just scared to face her and would never be comfortable anyway. To which Kate would always reply, "What, is it someone you know DiNozzo?" with a laugh.
Tony wouldn't say anything after that.
"Still?" he cocked a smile. And they were back into the old routine.
The flowers looked incredibly beautiful on her desk.
On the tenth day, there were no flowers waiting for her.
She dragged herself to work, miserable. No flowers, okay fine. It's not like she needed them, right? But still…what did it mean? How could they just stop, just like that? What, so he wasn't interested anymore? He just decided the flowers would stop?
Just like that?
She could barely admit it to herself, let alone to anyone else, but she had appreciated the attention, the acknowledgement, the hope that it might have been…
She shook her head. Might have been who, Kate? She asked herself furiously. Nobody. Nobody now. There was nothing to argue about after that.
Eclipsed in her own misery, she failed to notice Tony's similar state of depression and his rather poor attempts that day to cheer her up.
Late that night, she heard a quiet tap on her door.
She had been lying blankly on her couch for the past half hour, wondering what the hell was wrong with her. Why was she so hung up about a guy she'd never even met? Why?! It was one of the most ridiculous states of minds she'd ever been in, and it topped her first assignment with NCIS and guarding the President of the U.S.A.
She tiredly hauled herself off the couch. Had she ordered take-out, perhaps? Her foggy mind couldn't grasp whether she had that night, although there was a vague memory…but hadn't that been last night?
No, she realised as she opened the door. She hadn't ordered take-out that ni-
Tony.
It was Tony was standing there dishevelled in the rain, with flowers in one hand and chocolates in the other.
Tony.
He gave her a nervous, albeit cocky (as if you'd expect less from DiNozzo) smile.
"Sorry about the other night, Kate. They ran out of your favourite kind of flower at your florist and all the other florists were closed by the time I was able to go look at them, but I went looking around earlier today and I drove around for the past hour looking for your fav-"
He stopped abruptly, in the midst of his ramblings as Kate threw herself into his arms. Tony looked on, surprised, as she twined her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shoulder.
"It was you," she whispered. "It was."
Tony gave a wide grin, partial relief and partially heartfelt love as he wrapped his arms around her, hands still grasping the flowers and chocolates.
Gifts of love.
"Thank you, Tony."
Tony merely ghosted a kiss in her hair.
"Kate, sweet Kate…" he murmured the words as if he couldn't bear to say anything else.
Now, the crinkling of flowers and sweet whispers being murmured in the breeze are all that's heard, mingled with the soft, sweet, patter of the rain.
Well, how was that? I'm honestly not fond of the ending, so let me know what you think. If enough people feel the same way I do, I'll try writing an alternate one, lol. I just figured there was enough of an angst dose in this fic to end on a happy ending…although it didn't turn out so hot.
Reviews make me happy!