I present to you, dear reader... chapter 3.
The day is remarkably warm for being March; the birds are singing melodies of freedom and the trees are swaying gently with the light breeze that makes its way through the crowded park. There are children playing with each other in the giant play park as their mothers sit on the benches surrounding it, trying to soak up as much sun as possible. Men in suits and polished shoes make their way through the park, probably headed to eat lunch at one of the many restaurants that are situated in the area. The park is buzzing with energy and signs of life, and the gentle and warm fingers of spring are slowly wrapping themselves around the city, painting away the silence of winter. However, in the midst of all the children and mothers and fathers and business men, there is a lone bench on which a woman is seated. Dressed in a white coat and black, stylish sunglasses she seems slightly out of place in the disorder of the playing children, and every few minutes the father of one of the children sends her a curious look. The woman on the bench does not acknowledge anyone around her, she just sits there staring ahead of her, silent and still. It almost looks as if she is a part of the park itself, as if she is a statue made to be sitting on that bench, an ever-lasting piece of stillness in the mess that is the everyday life of the park.
However, a man with silver hair and piercing blue eyes, and dressed in a dark winter coat soon takes a seat next to her, and from the way she her spine becomes slightly stiffer than before it is apparent that she knows him.
Behind those dark sunglasses, Kate is fuming with anger. Not that any one can actually see the darkness that is the colour of her eyes and, at the moment, mind. They sit in silence for a while, simply inhaling the fresh air of spring. She refuses to be the first one to speak; he had been the one to ban her from the office (or actually, that had been director Morrow, but she still insistently blamed Gibbs), so why on earth was he here only hours after throwing her out? After having been released from the hospital, she had gone to work the following day - only to find that she was no longer welcome. She had been ordered to stay home and recover for at least a week before even thinking of coming back to work. Suddenly, she snaps and turns to look at him, only to find that he isn't even looking at her. His blue eyes are focused on the playing children and a slight smile is gracing his lips. The intense urge to wipe that smile away floods through her veins and she frowns angrily.
"Gibbs." she says through clenched teeth and looks at him from behind her sunglasses.
Slowly does his head turn, and he looks at her with that small smile, eyes glittering with playfulness. Kate's insides are screaming. How dare he smile? She tries to swallow down the anger, but fails miserably.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she asks, shifting closer to him, despite her frustration with him.
At this, he simply smiles a little wider, as if actually amused by her state of mind, and stands up before her, offering her his hand. "Taking you to lunch, Kate." he says quietly as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Kate's eyes wander from his face to his hand and she takes a moment to decide whether to be a bitch or not. She looks at his face again and studies the lines and skin and how beautiful he is when bathed in the modest sunlight of early spring. The sunglasses hide away the softness that is suddenly colouring her eyes, and she feels grateful for it. He's a bastard, she reminds herself. Nonetheless, three seconds later, she takes his hand and stands up. As soon she is on her feet, he lets go of her hand.
"Why?" she asks as they begin to make their way through the park.
"To talk." he answers simply, and she feels a sudden rush in her abdomen.
"About what?" she asks nervously, peering at him from where she is walking next to him. This is unexplored territory for both of them and Kate is frantically trying to understand what on earth they are supposed to talk about. She has a nagging suspicion of what his true intentions might be, but she quickly dismisses the thought.
After ten minutes of walking down the wide and busy street, they reach their destination: a small Italian café that serves mostly sandwhiches and coffee, and Kate rolls her eyes when he orders a triple espresso each to sip at.
"Is this your idea of lunch?" she asks incredulously as they sit down at one of the tables.
"Yup." he answers, and she cannot help but give him a small laugh.
"Should've figured," she says as she lifts the cup to her lips and savours the bitterness of the almost inhumanly strong coffee.
She pretends not to notice how his intense gaze follows her every move, because whenever she does take notice of it, it leaves her with an unhealthy dose of self-conciousness to dwell upon. She licks her lips slowly, puts down the cup on the table and leans slightly forward, eyes finally meeting his.
He says nothing, just looks at her with that mix of half-hearted curiosity and intensity that sometimes fills his eyes. He takes a sip of his own coffee, his eyes never leaving her face.
"Gibbs." she says with an inquiring tone and leans forward in order to hear him over the chattering of voices that echoes off the walls of the tiny café. "You wanted to talk." The anger and frustration she felt earlier in the park seems to have been washed down her throat along with the strong coffee. She looks at him with big eyes, feeling a little nervous about the proximity of the situation. However, her curiosity by far outweighs her nervousness. Gibbs, on the other hand, seems to be at loss for words for he does not say a thing.
"What?" she she says with an exasperated wave of her hand. "You wanted to talk," she looks him steadily in the eye. "Talk." she says, and it feels weird to order Gibbs around. But he isn't doing anything productive, and she didn't come here with him to have him sit and look at her all day. At her words, he seems to snap out of whatever trail of thought that had been occupying his mind, and he leans back in his chair.
"You're not allowed to work for another week," he throws the sentence into the air between them and she wonders if she is supposed to answer.
"Um... okay?" she says.
He leans forward, invading her space from across the table, until he is close enough for her to count the small wrinkles underneath his eyes. She stares at him in awe, mouth slightly open, at loss for words, with no idea of what his next move might be. He keeps his eyes locked with hers and takes a sip of his coffee. The air around them changes, and she leans forward to meet him halfway.
"Take the week off." he says, his tone authoritative and demanding.
"Why?" she spits back at him, feeling her temper rise quickly. Their faces are close, and she cannot help but wonder what the picture they present might look like to the other guests around them.
"You know why." he says, his voice strong and cold, any trails of a smile having left his face.
"Oh," she says sarcastically and raises an eyebrow. "Of course," she continues, "Doing absolutely nothing will make me feel so much better."
He doesn't move and doesn't say anything, and she feels herself beginning to slip.
"What I need..." she begins and looks frantically around the room, avoiding his eyes, feeling uncomfortable and exploited and desperate. "What I need is..." she fiddles with her cup. "Work. I need work." she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.
"You think you know something," she says out of the blue, but Gibbs does not stop her and the words flow freely from her mouth: "You think you know what life is and what it has in store for you...You think you know what pain is. I thought I knew it all. I thought... I thought...," she pauses and sits in silence for one second, two seconds-
"I knew nothing." she whispers. "Do you know..." she continues, opening her eyes and focusing them on his serious face of stone. "Gibbs," she breathes and leans forward even more. "Do you know the feeling of humiliation?" she gives him two seconds and then she interrupts him before he even gets a chance to answer. She laughs bitterly at him, her voice lower and darker than she has ever heard it. "Of course you do." she sighs. "You know everything." She, once again, closes her eyes. After a few minutes, his cellphone rings, and her eyes snap open at the sound of it.
"Gibbs." he grunts and hangs up after fifteen seconds. He takes a moment to study her face, eyes as unreadable as ever, but there is a softness to him that usually isn't there. She stares back at him boldly, refusing to show any signs of weakness or embarrassment at her sudden outburst of emotion.
He stands up, and she looks up at him with a puzzled expression on her face. He heads for the door and motions for her to follow him. As they exit the café she finally rediscovers her ability to speak;
"Where are we going?" she mumbles as he leads the way down the busy pavement.
He smiles a smile that is barely there and quickens his pace.
"We've got a case."