A/N: Yes, I know the last couple of chapters have been short! My apologies—and rest assured that is usually not my style…I just seem to have found good stopping points, so I went with them. I think you'll find this chapter to be more than absurdly long. Thanks again for all the very nice reviews. I'm having a lot of fun with this, and it is an EXCELLENT distraction from the stresses that come with the end of the semester for me, as a teacher with two kids of my own, and a very full schedule of Christmas parties! After I've accomplished a certain number of things on my to-do list, I reward myself with time to write fanfic…fluffy, romantic fanfic that makes my heart happy.

PS—It had been my understanding that Gibb's exact age remained unknown, so I made a guess of 53; however, I have since learned that we do know he was born in 1958, making him 51. All previous chapters have been updated to correct any mentions of Gibbs' age or the age difference between him and Kate.

Gibbs lay in bed that night with his fingers laced behind his head, thinking. He was trying to figure out what the hell had happened to him. To be certain, he had absolutely no regrets about the way the evening had gone; in fact, he had enjoyed every minute of it. It's just that he was acting so very out of character. Gibbs—the man everyone knew—was closed-up, walled-off, and emotionally inaccessible. That had been his way for so long—and then to suddenly, in one day, do a total one-eighty and let someone in? Someone so totally unlikely? A woman not quite yet thirty? He had no idea how or why it had happened. He felt as though he had been caught in the deep freeze of an emotional winter for the past two decades and was beginning to emerge, bit by bit, in spring's first thaw.

Gibbs liked this woman. He really, really liked this woman. He couldn't wait to see her again. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted her to know more about him. He wanted to make her smile and laugh. And of course…he desired her physically. He knew he had been a little quick with his good night kiss, but he hadn't been able to help himself. She had been so breathtaking, standing there, looking up at him with eyes drowsy from wine and lack of sleep.

He had never been one to shy away from physical relationships. On the contrary, Leroy Jethro Gibbs enjoyed the company of a woman as much as any man, and in the past had not always been particularly reserved about throwing himself into sexual encounters. But he felt an odd desire to play his cards more carefully with this one. Because he already felt so strongly about her, he suddenly yearned to do something right, for once, and take it slowly.

He had a lot to think about, and his thoughts were twisting and winding from one topic to another. One thing he knew for certain, though: tomorrow would prove to be a very interesting day.

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Kate slept well and rose at 7:00 to shower and make food for the day ahead. She spent more time than strictly necessary shaving her legs, and entirely too much time stressing over which swimsuit to wear, and what to wear over it. She was finishing packing the cooler when the doorbell rang, promptly at nine o'clock. She smiled at his punctuality.

"Come on in; it's unlocked!" she shouted as she dumped a bag of ice into the cooler. She heard the door open and looked up. She was almost exasperated at how good he looked. He was wearing a Washington Nationals t-shirt with navy blue swim trunks and carrying a bag which she could only assume held a change of clothes. He had brown Top-Siders on his feet, and she thought it was a little absurd that his legs were just as sexy as the rest of him. She couldn't catch a break with this guy. She felt like she was perpetually left in a state of teenage lust when he was near her. She wanted to gripe at him for making her heart race, but settled for a grin and a "Good morning, how are you?"

He replied with a grin of his own and said, "Great, you?"

"I'm fine, and better yet, I'm just about ready to hit the road. Just have to grab a couple of towels and some sunscreen and we'll be on our way." He watched as she disappeared into what he assumed was a laundry room and returned with several large beach towels. She held up a finger, indicating that she would be right back and vanished down a hallway. Two minutes she returned with a large canvas bag bearing her monogram—KAM—and said, "Ok, that's it. We're ready. You driving?"

Gibbs nodded and said, "What the M for?"

"Huh?"

"On your bag…what does the M stand for?"

"Oh," she said, understanding. "Meredith. Katherine Meredith." Gibbs nodded. He had no idea why he had needed to know that information, but he had.

"Want me to get the cooler?" he asked. "How many days you planning on staying out?" he teased.

"Hey, I like to be prepared," she said defensively. "And the water makes me really hungry."

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The drive to the marina had been pleasant. He had asked her a bit about her boat, and they had chatted easily about that and other water-related things. The conversation was light and unforced. He was glad to be able to concentrate on the road, as he was having a difficult time keeping his mind off of what exactly the swimsuit he could see peeking out from her cover-up looked like. She was wearing a strapless black cover up that came down to just above her knees, and there was a turquoise halter-style bikini top (at least, he assumed, or rather—hoped—it was a bikini top) underneath. She wore turquoise and black Teva sandals on her feet. Her skin was pale and freckled and he understood what she had meant about the difficulties of being a redhead and loving the water. She wore a floppy straw-colored hat atop her head, and she had placed her red hair into two braids, starting just below each ear, which he found incredibly appealing. His "take-it-slow" plan from last night didn't seem like nearly such a great idea now.

He was relieved when he finally pulled into the marina parking lot and he and Kate unloaded the cooler and bags. The walk to the boat slip was short and he put the cooler down to help Kate remove the covers from the boat. He gave a low whistle as she was stowing the covers. "This is nice," he said appreciatively.

"Thanks," she beamed. "I bought it used, and got a great deal on it. I've been thrilled with it so far—worth every penny. Here, hand me the bags." Gibbs complied and then picked up the cooler and stepped down into the boat with it. They spent the next few minutes stowing the cooler, organizing belongings, and readying the boat for launch. Kate removed the food from the cooler, leaving only drinks and ice, and placed it in a small fridge down in the cabin. She flipped a few switches at the helm and then dug in her canvas bag, emerging with a large bottle of sunscreen. She smiled ruefully at him as she dumped a big glob in her palm and proceeded to give her arms, shoulders, and chest a rubdown. She repeated the treatment for her face, consulting a mirror to be sure she had it all rubbed in. "Sunscreen?" she asked him when she was finished.

"Yeah, thanks, I could probably use some on my face." He rubbed the lotion in dutifully and then smiled at her. "We ready?"

"Yep…if you want to untie us, we'll head out."

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Kate was tearing downriver, engine wide open. Gibbs leaned back and enjoyed the sight of her, clearly in her element. She drove standing up, with one knee on the seat and her braids jumping around in the wind. Her floppy hat had taken up residence in the cabin, and she wore sunglasses now, so he couldn't see her eyes, but he could tell she was happy. After five or ten minutes, she began to slow the boat and approach the bank on the starboard side. "It's hot. Want to swim? Or ski? Do you ski?" she asked.

"Hmm…it's been awhile," he admitted, "but they say it's like riding a bike…maybe in a few. I'd rather test the water out first. You're right; it is hot."

She navigated to an out-of-the-way spot and instructed him to throw anchor, pointing to the anchor locker. She watched his muscles play under his shirt as he lifted the heavy anchor and threw it out to starboard, mooring them securely in place. She shut off the engine, but left the radio playing on a classic rock station. She dug into the cooler for a bottle of water as "Seven Bridges Road" began playing.

"The Eagles…good stuff," he commented as she offered him a water bottle.

She couldn't resist. "Yeah, I thought I'd play some music from your glory days," she smirked.

"Ouch," he grinned good-naturedly. "Doesn't matter, though—it's still great music. Hey, can I borrow your sunscreen again?" he asked as he began pulling his shirt off.

Kate turned to look for the sunscreen, trying to give herself a moment before she turned back around, because she had a sneaking suspicion that he would look as good without a shirt as he did with one, and she didn't want to stare. She located the bottle of Banana Boat, and turned back around, handing it to him. Yep. She was right. She sighed inwardly and figured she might as well get on with it. She casually watched him slather the sun block on as she pulled her cover-up down, stepping out of it and tossing it into a storage compartment. As he was finishing up, she reached for the bottle. "Need me to get your back?" she said, almost hesitantly. He nodded and turned from her. Kate squeezed some lotion into her hands and started rubbing him down. His skin was warm, well-muscled, and surprisingly soft. When she had finished, he turned around and she silently handed him the bottle and turned her own back to him. She enjoyed feeling his strong hands smoothing the sunscreen across her back and shoulders probably a little bit more than she should have, but he managed to make it feel more like a massage than a precautionary measure against sunburn, and she couldn't help herself. When he had finished, she said, "Thanks," in a voice that sounded nearly normal and took the bottle back to finish shielding her stomach and legs from the sun. He watched curiously as she grabbed another bottle from the helm—this one a small spray can of sunscreen—and sprayed it across her scalp and ears. She smiled at him and said, "If I don't spray my head, my scalp will burn where my hair is parted and in about four days I'll look like I'm in serious need of a bottle of Head and Shoulders." He laughed at that and she found that she enjoyed the sound of it very much.

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Gibbs was feeling self-conscious for the first time in—well—a really long time, but he was determined not to let it show. Kate wanted to swim, and he knew he was going to have to come out of his shirt. He was more than anxious to get her out of her cover-up, but then again, she was young and beautiful, while he…well, he was not. At least in his own mind. Sure, he knew he was fairly handsome, and he knew that he couldn't complain about his physique. But still…he was a middle-aged guy about to get shirtless in front of a beautiful young woman, and, well, that was enough to mess with any man's psyche, wasn't it? He decided to just bite the bullet and lose the shirt. He felt mildly relieved when she turned away just as he was pulling it over his head, and then somewhat gratified, when she turned back, to see that she was watching him with what seemed like interest as he applied sunscreen. When she asked if he wanted her to do his back, he was pleasantly surprised, and when she turned her own back to him in reply, he was thankful for the chance to check her out unobserved. She was wearing a bikini in a turquoise color that was absolutely perfect for her skin and hair. She had what seemed to be a flawless figure, and he could see that she did indeed have the remnants of the muscular legs that belong to all competitive gymnasts.

When he finished, she thanked him and reached for yet another bottle and proceeded to spray it across her head. He laughed out loud when she explained that even her head would burn if she didn't. When she was properly protected from the sun's rays, he stepped down to the swim platform and lowered the ladder into the water, then stood back up and did a cannonball into the river. When he surfaced and shook the water from his hair, she was standing on the swim platform laughing. "Show-off," she muttered. "That's okay," she smirked, "two can play that game." With that, she stepped to the edge of the platform, turned around so that her back was to him, and effortlessly jumped straight up into the air. When she had nearly reached the apex of her leap, she gracefully drew her knees up and executed a perfect back tuck into the river. It looked to Gibbs as though she might have expended more energy yawning. She broke to the surface a mere three feet from him and wiped the water from her face. She laughed when he said, "Okay, okay, I give it a ten."

They spent a moment treading water, taking in the scenery, and she said, "The water feels good. It's a nice day." She cocked her head to the side just a bit and then said, "I'm glad we did this," sounding quite sincere.

"Me, too," he said, and proceeded to splash her in the face with a laugh. She growled playfully and lunged at him wrapping her arm around his throat and dunking him under the water. He surfaced, twisting away from her grasp and wound his arms around her waist, laughing as he pinned her back against his chest, hugging her to him and kissing the back of her neck. He was pleased when she shivered with pleasure at the feel of his lips.

He released her before his body could betray him while she was pressed against his front and she turned in the water to face him. She smiled, and then turned thoughtful. "So…are you at the mercy of your job, too? If a sailor or a Marine finds himself murdered, do you have to go immediately, regardless of where you are or when it is?"

"If it's a murder, then yes, as the head of the team, I'll generally go immediately. But if it's something more minor, not necessarily. My team handles major cases—felonies—and they are all very good at their jobs, so if it's a case involving a felony, but it's not something extremely urgent—like a murder, or a kidnapping, or something along those lines, then I can sometimes let my less senior team members handle it. But generally, the only reason I'd get called on a night or weekend is if it was something major."

She looked toward the boat. "So can you hear your phone from here?"

He shrugged. "I won't be away from it long enough for it to matter. I'll check it when we get back in. Speaking of…you want me to drive while you ski?"

Her face brightened. "Sure, thanks!"

He swam to the ladder and climbed aboard. She started up the ladder behind him and he reached down and took her hands to help her up. He pulled up the anchor and stowed it in its locker while she pulled out her skis, the ski rope, and a lifejacket. He then watched with interest as she pulled a pair of black board shorts from her bag and tugged them on. "Why the shorts?" he asked.

She smiled widely. "Because I figured you might not be too impressed if I lost my bikini bottoms hitting the water on our first date." Her grin faltered for just an instant, as if afraid she'd said the wrong thing, but she recovered when Gibbs said, "You're mistaken on both counts. This is our second date," he corrected.

Kate shook her head with a wide grin, snapped her life jacket on, strapped her skis in place, and jumped in the water. Gibbs gave the helm a quick once-over as he sat in the captain's chair, and soon, they were off.

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Kate was more than glad to have a couple of uninterrupted moments to think, now that she was skiing forty feet behind the boat. Her head was reeling on her shoulders, and she needed a few moments to collect herself. This was going better than she had any right to dream, and she kept wondering if she was going to wake up in a moment and be really pissed off that the dream was over. She was having the time of her life with a man she'd known less than 48 hours. How was that even possible?

Getting in the water with him to swim had been—honestly, the first word that came to mind was dreamy—but their impromptu water wrestling match was even better. She had thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest when he pulled her against him with his arms tightened securely around her midsection. And when he kissed her neck? Somehow that simple action had seemed worlds more intimate than the kiss they had shared last night and she had been completely unable to keep her body from shivering in response. Even now, as she skied, watching him helm her boat gave her heart a little shudder and she once again felt like a schoolgirl.

She shook her head to clear it as she jumped the wake and sailed out behind the boat to the starboard side. Gibbs navigated a bend in the river and she leaned into the turn, jumping back over the wake and nearly face-planting in the process. Gibbs saw the bobble in the rearview mirror and she could see him smiling at her near-miss. She decided to quit before she really embarrassed herself and released the rope, coasting until her weight pulled her down into the water as she waited for him to circle around and pick her up.

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The next few hours passed entirely too quickly. They took turns skiing (Gibbs was, as she suspected, perfectly proficient on skis, although he did have a couple of nice wipeouts when he attempted something a little too ambitious), they ate lunch (during which he raved over her chicken salad sandwiches), and she dutifully reapplied her sunscreen every hour, Gibbs stepping in to help with her back. During a lull in the watersports, they were lounging on the back of the boat, and out of nowhere, Gibbs said, "What is it you want to say? All day you've looked like you wanted to say something, but you change your mind."

Kate raised an eyebrow in response. Gibbs smiled and said, "I get paid to notice things, remember?"

"Ah," Kate said succinctly. "Indeed." She picked at a cuticle. "It wasn't so much a statement as a question, and it's not really any of my business, anyhow."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Ask anyway."

She wrinkled her eyebrows together. "Just a point of curiosity is all. You're obviously very handsome—" (at this, Gibbs smiled) –"and very intelligent and fascinating to talk to. Just wondering how it is that you're still 'on the market,' so to speak. Have you ever been married?" She clamped her mouth shut, embarrassed.

Gibbs was, for his part, unruffled by the question as he held up four fingers.

"Four times?" Kate said, laughing. "A serial offender, huh?"

Gibbs chuckled, nodding. "Let me clarify, though…the last three were disasters. Huge mistakes."

"And the first?"

"Wasn't." Kate caught the brief shadow that flickered across his face and shut down that particular line of questioning.

"Do you have any kids?" She was genuinely curious about this one, as she knew that it was entirely possible that he had children very close to her in age.

"I had a daughter," he said quietly, looking away.

Kate noted the use of the past tense and was quiet for a moment. She felt as though she had inadvertently intruded on something very private and was chagrined. She looked away, disconcerted, and Gibbs noticed. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "It's just not something I'm used to talking about. Maybe…" he paused. "Maybe we could talk about it another time." She nodded, mollified, and reached for her bag again. She emerged with a bottle of Aleve, and as she tossed two in her mouth and reached for her water bottle, Gibbs looked concerned. "You okay? Got a headache?" he asked.

She smiled ruefully. "I wish. Arthritis."

Gibbs looked shocked. "At your age? Where?"

"Hips, knees…left shoulder," she shrugged. "Gymnastics is hard on the body."

"Mmm," Gibbs nodded in understanding.

"It's not that bad most days," she said. "It's only bugging me now because I've been up on skis. You don't deal with any yourself? How long were you in the Corps?"

"Fifteen years," he said with an understanding smile.

"Fifteen years of Marine Corps PT and your knees aren't thanking you for it now?"

"Well…maybe a little…from time to time," he admitted.

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Gibbs really didn't want the day to end. He was sitting on the back of the boat with Kate, and had discovered that this seemingly perfect not-quite-thirty-year-old had arthritis. Such an odd thing to learn at such an early stage in a burgeoning relationship, really. But after what had transpired, why should that surprise him? When she had asked about his marital history, he was shocked to find himself answering honestly, and when she asked if he had children, he spoke of Kelly before he realized what he was saying and wondered what possessed him to do so with a total stranger when he hadn't afforded the same courtesy to good friends he had known for years. Even more staggering was the realization that once the admission was out of his mouth, he didn't regret sharing the information, although he wasn't yet ready to discuss it in more detail. Nothing about this woman seemed typical, and he was pondering this thought when she spoke up. "What are you thinking? You look..." she searched for the right word. "…perplexed," she finally said.

He ducked his head and smiled. "I was actually sitting here thinking that I've never met anyone like you," he said honestly.

"And is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she wondered out loud.

"Oh, it's definitely a good thing. You intrigue me."

"Why is that, J?"

J? He decided he liked it. Two days and she'd come up with her own nickname for him. Huh, he thought.

He struggled for the right way to explain what he meant in response to her query. "You're…you're a contradiction," he finally said. "Everything about your accomplishments screams 'Type A': you were a competitive gymnast, Ivy-Leaguer, med student, and now, a successful pediatrician. But in fact, after getting to know you a little, you don't seem Type A at all…I mean, obviously you're a go-getter, but you're so incredibly laid-back. You seem so calm and unflappable."

She grinned. "Unflappable, huh? Glad I fooled you, because when you kissed me last night, I went completely weak in the knees." She dropped her head, laughing. "I can't believe I just said that to your face." He chuckled gently and reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. "I'm glad I had that effect on you," he said quietly. "And it would be a lie to say the feeling isn't mutual."

She ducked her head, pleased. Going back to his previous observation, she said, "You're right, though—I am an odd duck. I'm extremely driven, as you may have guessed, but I don't stress over things. I don't like stress. As a matter of fact, I absolutely loathe stress. My personal philosophy has always been to do the absolute best that I'm capable of, and let the chips fall where they may. I guess you could say I don't sweat the small stuff. My mom taught me that." She shrugged. "I'd have never called you last night to ask you to dinner if it wasn't for that aspect of my personality. Sure, I was nervous as hell, but I figured I'd rather be rejected than never know. What was the worst that could happen?"

Gibbs squeezed her hand. "I could have been a complete idiot and missed out on this."

She winked at him. "You almost did, remember?"

He rolled his eyes and said, "Crisis averted, thankfully." Then he reached for the sunscreen and said, "Come here. Your shoulders are getting pink." She obediently turned her back to him and closed her eyes with pleasure as his hands moved across her shoulders.