GIBBS
So either Kate was feeling even worse than he'd imagined, or she actually liked him for some unknown reason, or possibly he was just in the middle of some elaborate dream his mind had come up with to taunt him. Gibbs really couldn't work out which was the most likely scenario.
After puking her guts out and then having a little cry (he wasn't sure he'd ever get over Kate Todd letting him stroke her hair while she sobbed into his knees), he had coaxed her back to the couch, and she still hadn't thrown him out.
She looked a bit pale, and hadn't been able to face the idea of food, but she was basically all right. Especially given that he'd seen her crying, something he was sure she wasn't keen for anyone to witness, he had been expecting her to tell him to get lost since an hour ago. The fact that she hadn't piqued his curiosity, and the intrigue was duking it out with the sensible part of his brain that said she was okay and he really should go home now.
So far, curiosity was winning by a country mile, aided and abetted by his fascination with the Kate he didn't get to see at work; no makeup, no sharp suit, no gun. She'd brushed her hair and tied it back into a messy ponytail, and after throwing up she'd put on a clean shirt, but the picture she presented was still a million miles from what he was used to. He liked it, more than was comfortable.
She was leaning into the couch, her legs folded under her and her body facing him, though her head was turned towards the TV. Close enough to him that he'd offer his shoulder as a pillow, but he thought that might spook her into moving away. There was a strand of hair that had escaped her hair band and it was taking all of his willpower not to reach out and tuck it behind her ear.
One thing that was somehow completely unsurprising was that Kate relaxed by watching reruns of a political drama. If he could distract himself from watching her instead, he might even enjoy it, but it wouldn't have been his choice of TV comfort food to nurse himself through a hangover. At least she was absorbed, and so far apparently unaware that he couldn't stop staring at her.
He'd just congratulated himself for that lucky escape when she glanced sideways at him. "What?"
Oops. He scrambled for some reason or explanation, and then remembered the question that had been hovering in his head for several hours. "Uh. So. You gonna tell me why?"
"Why what?"
He shot her a look, but the expression on her face was one of genuine innocence. He supposed that drinking large quantities of alcohol didn't exactly leave a person quick to catch on. "Why'd you get out of your face drunk and then call me at 4am?"
Her face went from confused to angry and she looked down at her knees like a sulky teenager. "'Cause my boss is an asshole."
Gibbs winced. Okay. Yeah. He had kind of asked for that. "Right." So... it was his fault. Not entirely unexpected. "Exactly what did I...?"
Mad morphed into reluctant. She shook her head mumbled something indecipherable.
"What?"
"You called me Captain."
She was pouting, and if she didn't also look seriously pissed off he'd be tempted to tease her about that.
"But why...? I was givin' you a compliment, Kate."
She shot him a baleful look. "I know."
"So you're saying that was a... bad compliment?"
"No, I really liked it."
Okay. I'm officially confused.
He was an asshole for being nice to her, and that had left her feeling so bad she'd decided to take it out on her liver.
Nope. He couldn't figure it out. And while he was sleep deprived, had a known blind spot when it came to women, and although Kate in particular both baffled and fascinated him on a regular basis... he still was fairly sure that for once it wasn't entirely his fault that he was completely at sea.
"You lost me, Kate."
"It made me think you were proud of me."
"I was proud of you."
She scowled. "Well maybe you should remember that more often."
"I'm not exactly boss of the month material, Katie. You know that." He hadn't meant to let the nickname slip out, but she was evidently furious with him already, so...
He could see her jaw tensing up as she chewed over her response, and wondered if he should be looking for a flak jacket.
Finally she sat up straight and looked him in the eye. She still looked a little embarrassed but there was defiance there as well. "You're a horrible boss, Gibbs. You expect miracles, you are unbearable if you haven't had enough coffee, you yell at us when we don't know what you want before you ask us, you're a grumpy, unreasonable bastard, it's like working for a bad tempered grizzly bear with a permanent migraine..."
She trailed off and shrugged.
"Should I be expecting a 'but' at the end of that sentence?" He tried to keep his tone light, as if she hadn't just eviscerated him in a few dozen words.
She gave him a brief, tight lipped smile that was more friendly than he'd expected after that list of his shortcomings. "But then you do something nice and I just... I don't understand."
He shifted uncomfortably. He still wasn't clear about how him being nice had led to Kate mainlining alcohol, and he didn't know if admitting that would help or not.
She sighed. "Sometimes you make me feel about three inches tall, and then- then you turn around and do something that makes me think you like me, and it messes with my head."
He leaned towards her and grabbed her hand, not really thinking it through, shocked by her vehemence and just wanting to reassure her somehow. "I do like you, Kate, you know that."
"No, I mean-" She stopped, her cheeks flushed, and she looked away. "Never mind. Not important."
He squeezed her hand. He was so, so lost. "I'm... sorry?"
Even with her face turned away, he could see the brief smile. "Don't apologise," she said, shrugging a shoulder.
The contrast with her slurred repetition of the rule the night before couldn't have been sharper, and he was unable to stifle the chuckle.
She turned to glare at him, her eyes narrowed and suspicious. "What?"
"It's just... You said that to me this morning."
"I did?" She blinked, looking surprised.
He nodded.
"At least that's proof I know your rules, I guess. 'Never say you're sorry, it's a sign of weakness'." She said it in a sing song voice Gibbs associated with kids reciting their times tables, but given the circumstances he decided he'd let her get away with the gentle mockery.
"I think what you actually said was more along the lines of 'sh a sign o' weaknesh', but I got the gist."
She covered her face with her hand and now her head actually did drop to his shoulder. "God. I made a real fool of myself, didn't I?"
He really hoped she didn't expect any kind of coherent answer to that when she was leaning on him. At a loss for a better response he squeezed her hand again.
"Happens to us all. You'll live."
She looked up. "You mean to tell me Gibbs the Great and Terrible occasionally does really stupid things and ends up looking a fool?"
Well, I'm sittin' here holdin' your hand, Katie. What do you think? Yeah, he probably shouldn't say that out loud. "Now and then."
"So, you gonna tell me what?"
He grinned. "Nope."
Her eyes narrowed but he held her gaze, and hoped he was projecting a suitable aura of 'none of your damn business' rather than 'I'm afraid of telling you just in case you decide to shoot me'.
Eventually she shook her head with a resigned smile, then settled back down with a sigh. She turned back to the TV, but this time she was resting against him, head on his shoulder, and she still hadn't pulled her hand away from his.
Gibbs smiled fondly down at the top of her head, resisted the urge to drop a kiss onto her hair, and halfheartedly berated himself for being such a sap. Somehow it was difficult to summon up much fire when he had Kate curled into his side.
Well. The smile returned. Since he was being foolish already... Guess I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.
