GIBBS

He shouldered open the basement door and stopped dead. Kate was sitting a few steps up from the bottom of the stairs. She looked around, smiled a little shyly, looking unusually and unaccountably nervous.

"Hi."

"Hi, Kate." What the hell are you doing here? No, that would come across like he wasn't pleased to see her, like she was unwelcome in his house, which wasn't true at all. It was just... guaranteed to mess with his head. "You okay?"

She nodded. He continued down the stairs, slowly, and was (mostly) relieved when she got up and moved down to the floor so he didn't have to brush past her.

"What's up?" Might as well get to the point. Then maybe she'd leave and he would no longer have to watch what he did or said so he wouldn't accidentally hit on her.

She blushed. "I was wondering-"

Gibbs raised his eyebrows questioningly. He totally wasn't used to seeing Kate embarrassed or even uncomfortable. It intrigued him far more than it should.

"I get the impression you know what you're doing."

He looked at her warily. "Know what I'm doing about what?"

She stepped a little closer. "When it comes to... sex."

He stopped breathing for a moment and swallowed hard. What the...? When his vocal cords started working again, he cleared his throat, but he still didn't manage to actually speak. Was there a safe answer here? 'Yes' would be cocky. Truthful, if he did say so himself, but cocky. On the other hand, he wasn't about to say no; not to anybody, and especially not to Kate.

More to the point, there didn't seem to be any safe answer at all when he didn't know why she was asking the question. Easier, and less risky, to just stare her out, hope she'd say something to make this surreal conversation make sense.

Unexpectedly, she continued to stare right back up at him, her chin tilted up, defiant.

Yeah, right. Like he was going to crack first. Like he could be out-glared by some slip of a girl- woman. "What do you want, Kate?" Shit.

"You," she said simply.

He gaped at her. "Me what?"

She laughed, came still closer. "Just you."

"Kate, what are you-"

He didn't get to finish the question. She stood up on tiptoe, pulled his head down to hers, and kissed him full on the mouth.

God. She tasted like chocolate and sex and woman, and she wasn't holding back, and it was... He leaned into her with a moan, felt her hands fisted against his chest, her tongue eager, her mouth warm and welcoming and flavoured with bourbon.

Bourbon. He made himself pull away, ignoring the whine of his heart and his crotch. She tasted like bourbon.

"Kate."

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and she looked up at him. He gulped at her expression, made himself notice how the dark eyes that offered to swallow him whole were outlined in red, how the scent of alcohol lingered on her breath, a trace of sadness in the corners of her mouth.

"Katie, what's wrong?"

She frowned up at him - pouted, almost. "I just want-" She reached up, fingers hooking into the neck of his shirt, seeking out his skin. "I need..."

He closed a hand round hers, stilled her fingers so he had some small chance of thinking straight.

"Don't you want me, Gibbs? Wouldn't you like to... show me?"

"Show you what?" He cursed himself for the stupid, dangerous question that slipped out before he could stop it, groaned when her free hand landed between his legs.

"Show. Me." For a moment he couldn't react, couldn't even think, as she popped open a button on his shirt and her lips ghosted up his throat. "I know you want to, Gibbs. I can tell..." She rubbed the uncomfortable bulge in his pants and he moved involuntarily against her hand. He knew this was a bad idea - a terrible idea - but his body didn't care. "C'mon Gibbs..."

He was dreaming. This had to be a dream. No way was Kate Todd standing in front of him, asking him to further her sex education.

Even drunk, this just wasn't Kate... His body might not care, but he did.

He took a deep breath, gently took hold of her wrist to stop the far too tantalising stimulation before it had a chance to completely overwhelm him.

"Kate, what happened? This isn't- what's wrong?"

She shot him a venomous look, pulled her hand from his with some force, turned away from him for a moment and stamped her foot like a sulky child. When she turned back she still looked furious, but her voice had a pleading edge to it "Jesus, Gibbs, can't you just- I need-"

The fact she couldn't actually bring herself to say it out loud was very Kate. It made him hopeful she wasn't as far gone as she seemed, might still listen to reason.

"Kate, I'm not gonna-" his voice cracked, betraying him "-not when you're drunk and sad and-"

"I am not drunk!" Her indignation would, in a different situation, have been amusing. "I know what I want, Gibbs."

He stepped towards her, wanting to soften his words with a touch, reaching out to lightly grasp her arm. "Kate, I won't... take advantage of you this way. You know that."

For a few moments her defiance held. Then her face crumbled and, looking like she was about to cry, she turned on her heel, tore herself away from him and stalked off up the basement stairs before he could react.

It took him a moment to gather his wits, and then he scooted after her, caught her at the front door, pinned her to it from behind. "Where'd you think you're going?"

"Home," she mumbled.

He took in a long, steadying breath, told his body to go take an ice bath, and started searching her, rummaging in her pockets despite her protests till he found her keys.

"Hey!" She grabbed at them, her alcohol inhibited reactions slow and clumsy, and he stepped away, away from the danger of her fury and her too inviting curves.

"You're not driving home."

"Why not?" Even drunk, her anger sharpened her voice enough to draw blood. "Why the fuck not?"

"Not lettin' you drive drunk either, Katie."

She span round, and then she was hitting him, battering him, as hard as she could. He wrapped both arms around her, embracing her attack, one hand stroking her hair. The anger turned quickly to sobbing, and then her fists uncoiled and her hands slipped around him, under his jacket, clinging to his back through the thin cotton of his shirt, clinging to him as if she might otherwise drown.

He held her close, rocking her gently, making soothing noises, feeling the tension ebb out of her. She leaned hard into him, stumbled slightly even though they were standing still, and he suddenly realised she had been upright through sheer force of will. Looping an arm under her armpits, he pulled her closer and steadied her against his chest. Her sobs faded away, though when he looked down there were tears running down her cheeks and dripping off her nose. How much was exhaustion or embarrassment he had no idea. He had the impression that if he let go, she would crumble to the floor with no resistance, all the fight leached out of her.

"What'm I gonna do with you?" he muttered, fairly grateful when she didn't respond. She was still leaking against his chest, too tired or ashamed or whatever else she was feeling to try and hide her tears or the way she was silently shaking. With a sigh, he scooped her up in his arms and started off upstairs. He wasn't sure it was a wise course of action, but it was the best one he could come up with.

At least his bed was made, the upside of the fact he rarely used it that it was clean and fresh.

He pulled back the comforter and laid her carefully down, then, at a loss what else to do, shrugged off his jacket, kicked off his shoes, and crawled in behind her. She didn't protest, even snuggled back against him, letting out a sigh when he wrapped an arm around her again. He felt somewhat reassured he'd made a good decision, or at least not an irredeemably terrible one.

Whatever the hell was going on here, he would figure it out in the morning, and at least in the meantime she was warm and safe, not crashing her car or being preyed on by less scrupulous men than he. Whether he'd actually get any sleep with her in his bed was another matter, but as sleepless nights went, he figured, he'd certainly had worse.