This part started out being nicknamed The Little Engine that Could and then got changed to The Runaway Train because it kept going and I couldn't find a good place to cut off. But I decided to post it as two parts instead of making you all sit here, reading it until your eyes bled. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and all the alerts. Hope you enjoy!


The seller had accepted Kate and Gibbs' offer on the house two days after Andrea had faxed it. Closing then had been scheduled for the end of July—the seller wanted to settled quickly because she was moving to Michigan and starting her new job at the beginning of August. So, by the end of August, Kate and Gibbs were the owners of a gorgeous Craftsman style house, and all moved in.

Their home.

Every time he thought of it—a smile lit up his face. Now the race was one to get the nursery decorated and in order. Kate was entering her sixth month next week. Only three more months until Baby Gibbs-Todd entered their lives. Three more months until they became parents to a baby that Gibbs hope looked like its mother—gorgeous, sexy, and just a wonderful person, through and through.

God, he couldn't wait. Sure, he was scared shitless—becoming a father again at his age. Who wouldn't be scared? That could definitely outweigh the elation that was constantly coursing through his veins—but it didn't.

Nothing could.

That was probably why it constantly ate at him at what Captain Watson had done—to his own family, no less. The man had thrown everything away—a prestigious Naval career and loving family. For what?

"You don't understand. I needed the money..." his words were stopped abruptly.

Gibbs grasped the lapels of Watson's jacket and slammed him against the wall of the bank lobby. He growled, "Don't you dare tell me that there's a reason for throwing away what you had!"

He pulled into the garage, parking beside Kate's car. Never believed that there would be a time that he would be home at a normal time—then again, that he would look forward to coming home. Exited his car and then the garage—making his way up the pathway that cut through the backyard and entered the house.

Found Kate in the kitchen—washing some pots that hadn't fit in the dishwasher. Casually, he observed the woman he loved—the mother of his unborn child. Couldn't help but be entranced by her. Couldn't stop the goofy grin that graced his face.

After setting his keys on the counter-quietly-he strolled over to her. Wrapped his arms around her middle and placed a gentle kiss on the side of her neck.

Kate jumped slightly. "Didn't any one ever teach you to not sneak up?" Tilted her head to the side to give him better access.

"Nope." Another gentle kiss. "Didn't any one ever teach you to play hard to get?" Nuzzled behind her ear.

A soft, melodic laugh came from her.

"What kind of answer was that?" Rubbed his hands affectionately over her belly—hoping Baby Gibbs-Todd was awake. Two weeks ago he felt the little one kick for the first time. Surreal experience. Took him back to when Shannon was pregnant with Kelly and felt Kelly kick for the first time. He understood that everything he was experiencing—he had done so before—but he was going to enjoy every single moment like it was the first time.

She knew what he was trying to do. Laid her head back against his shoulder. "Baby Gibbs-Todd has been rather quiet since I got home."

He hummed softly.

"What's bothering you, Jethro?"

"The case we had today."

She nodded her head in the affirmative. Had been wondering how it had turned out—since she wasn't allowed in the field anymore, until the baby was born and her maternity leave was up. Gibbs had sent her home early—thought she looked a little tired today. "What was the outcome?"

Completely forgot he sent Kate home early. He had saw that her eyes were droopy and he had known that she hadn't been sleeping well as of late. "Abby and McGee had an ingenious way of tracking the money—surprisingly the money returned here, to D.C."

Kate traced small circles on the back of his hand.

"Abby got the name of the bank and we waited for the bastard to exit. It was Captain Watson."

"What the hell?" Kate was beyond surprised.

Buried his face in her neck. Lavender. Soothing scent. "My thoughts exactly. Tried to give me some bullshit story of why he did it. Pissed me the fuck off!"

She understood why he felt the way he did. Why it ate at him like a disease. Gibbs had lost a wife and a child—they had been taken away from him. She turned around in his arms and leaned back against the sink. Reached up and ran a hand down his cheek; brushed a thumb over his lips; fingers brushed through his hair at his ears.

Of all the cases that this man has seen over the years—it was always the ones that dealt with family that shook him to the core. "I love you."

"You always know what to say to make everything better." Brushed their nose together. Kissed the tip of it. "I love you, too." How did he end up with a remarkable woman?

Leaned up on her tiptoes, lightly kissing his lips. "Are you hungry? I can fix something for you."

Shook his head. "Nah! I just want to spend time with my family."

Cocked her head at him. "Your family?"

"Yes. You." A heated kiss to her lips. "And the little one." Rubbed her pregnant belly. "What else do I need?"

Bit her lower lip. "You just never mentioned us as a family before." She shook her head—as if clearing her mind. "Forget I said that, okay?"

Tucked a finger beneath her chin and made her look at him. "I'm sorry that I never thought of us in that sense until now—wait, let me correct myself, mentioned us in that sense. I've thought of it quite a few times." Ran his thumb over her lips. "I love you, Kate. I haven't said this to you because I know what your response will be."

She knew. Knew the direction he was going. And wanted to stop it. They weren't there yet. Then again, when is any couple at that stage in their relationship? When is any one ever ready? Is there really any evidence—solid evidence—of relationship lasting when both knew—mean, absolutely knew—that they were with the one? Their soulmate?

She wanted this. Wanted this from almost the first moment they started. But she wanted it for the right reasons. Not because of Baby Gibbs-Todd.

Mind you, she could never regret the baby. It has come a bit earlier that she'd expected. But she could never regret it.

"Jethro..." She didn't know what else to say.

Rested his forehead to hers. "I know. I know we're not there yet, but I want you to know that I want to marry you. Someday. And I'm not saying that because of the baby." Placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I'll wait for you, Kate. Whenever you're ready. Or when you think we're ready. I'll marry you."

He gathered her into his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. He understood where her insecurities were coming from. They had a lot of issues to work through. The first five months of their relationship—weren't exactly conventional.


"What do you think about what Sharon is doing?"

Kate looked skeptically at the man in front of her in the line at the coffee shop. "Assassinating Hamas leaders or pulling settlements out of Gaza?"

He laughed, obviously caught off guard at her colorful response. "Neither. I'm just trying to start a conversation." Stuck out his hand. "John, AG Department."

Nodded at him. "Kate. NCIS."

"Hi." What she just said finally registered. "Really?"

Skeptical again. Feeling that a lot lately. "Yes. Why?"

"I've never seen you. I'm in NCIS twice a month."

Cocked her head. "You are?"

"I specialize in actuarial analysis. Hail and storm damage."

She chuckled when she realized that they were talking about two different NCIS'. "What NCIS do you think I'm with?" How embarrassing will this turn out?

John quirked his eyebrows. "National Crop Insurance Service."

Out of nowhere and wanting to punch the guy who was flirting with Kate, Gibbs squeezed in between the two of them—making sure to brush discreetly against Kate. "That's us." Looked pointedly at Kate. "She's a whiz on how corn losses affect pork belly futures." Squeezed between a few more people. "Excuse me."

Kate smiled sheepishly at John as she watched Gibbs walk off. "My boss. A weird sense of humor." Excused herself and went over to the table that he procured. Raised her eyebrows and facetiously stated, "How corn losses affect pork belly futures?"

"Rule number seven: always be specific when you lie." Pushed out the chair with his foot.

After sitting down, Kate eyed the large coffee cup with suspicion. "Why are you bringing me coffee from your caffeine dealer two blocks away? And don't use rule seven."

"You want that or not?" Nodded his head at the extra cup.

"I take my coffee with milk and sweetener."

"Taste it." Damn stubborn woman.

She took a cautious sip. She wheezed, "A little strong." How did this man not twitch from the coffee? She would probably feel like she had ADD for the rest of the day from the caffeine.

He hid a smile behind his cup. "Strong's better."

She met his intense gaze. Both said nothing. Just studied one another. Her thumbs twiddled in her lap. The silence was killing her. She huffed, "Gibbs, you're making me nervous. Scary scenarios are popping in my head—like you're here to fire me or to tell me I'm going undercover as DiNozzo's wife?" Or the unspoken thought—to end what they had going on.

"I want you to profile a terrorist." Straight to the point.

Knew what terrorist he was talking about, but decided to play dumb. "What terrorist?"

Intense gaze settled on her. "The one you couldn't stab."

"Ducky tell you that?" Of course Ducky told him. Ducky told Gibbs everything. "It's true." Glanced away briefly, unable to look into his eyes. Unable to look at the disappointment that she knew was there.

"Why?" His voice was a harsh whisper.

She had a distinct feeling that he wouldn't believe her answer, but she still said it. "His eyes. They looked kind."

Growling, he leaned forward, "Did he look kind when he blew out Gerald's shoulder?" Had no intention of sugar-coating.

It produced an angry response from her. She pointed her finger at him—to emphasized the point. "You asked me why I couldn't stab him and I told you."

"Contrary to conventional wisdom, Kate," he hissed, "eyes can lie. You meet him again, don't forget that."

"I won't." Saw the uncertainty in his eyes. Leaned forward and repeated with more vehemence, "I won't."

"Profile him," he growled.

She sighed dramatically, "He's not an Islamic fanatic. Never used their rhetoric." Leaned back in the chair and continued, "No mention of Jihad, Allah, infidels. Whatever drives him—it isn't martyrdom."

"Revenge?"

She cocked her head. "Could be." She added, "Maybe money."

"Hamas terrorist...in it for the money?" He didn't buy it.

"Well, he's not in it for the seventy virgins. He'd have no trouble attracting women." At his raised eyebrows—as if saying was she attracted to the bastard—she shot it down quickly, "Don't go there."

Deciding not to comment further on whether she was attracted to the fucking terrorist, he asked, "Why money?"

She shrugged. "I just get the feeling that he lives large. Well groomed. Manicured nails. Perfect teeth. Salon-styled hair," she trailed off, narrowing her eyes at Gibbs—studying him. "Gibbs, what is it with your hair?"

Defensive. "What's wrong with my hair?"

She smiled and backpedaled. "Nothing, nothing. You hair...is you." It was true. She really did love his hair. Just loved to tease him a little bit as well.

Voice was confident. "Yeah, it is. What else?"

Back to the regularly scheduled program. "He's intelligent. Bold. Willing to take big risks." Hell, he took a huge risk by sneaking into NCIS Autopsy in a body bag.

"Why did he give me chance to kill him?"

"He had a flak vest on. Knew you'd double tap him in the chest." Kate knew that she couldn't say anything that would make him feel better about the affects of that particular day.

Gibbs being Gibbs, shot back smartly, "What if I'd shot him in the head?"

"It was a risk he had to take to make his escape plan work."

"No, he did not," he whispered. Images of that day flashed before his eyes. The boldness of the bastard. "He could've killed me in cold blood. H.R.T. comes in. He throws a flash bang. Either way, he escapes. It's the same."

She carefully absorbed what he had just said. "You're right. Why'd he give you a shot at him?"

"He needs to face death to feel alive," his voice was husky. "Maybe to feel anything."


Days blended into weeks. Kate ushered in her sixth month and before she knew it—the seventh was right around the corner. Nights after work and free weekends, they worked on the nursery. Paint was picked out—a soft green and yellow that complimented the ClassicWinnie-the-Pooh decor that Kate had picked out.

The last weekend in September, Kate's parents came up for a visit. It also happened to be the first time that they met Gibbs. Kate was beyond nervous. But before her very eyes—Gibbs showed her that charm of his that made women swoon at his feet. Practically charmed the pants off Elizabeth Todd and then invited William down into the basement—where Kate had been banished from because he was crafting a surprise for Kate and the baby.

"He is a good man, Katie."

She let the nickname slide. Smiled at her mother. "Yes, mom, he is."

So," her mom drew out the word and trailed off, a smile lighting up her face.

It was hard to ignore Elizabeth Todd. Kate had learned that lesson long ago. "I know what you're trying to say. And I don't know yet."

"Kate, the baby is almost here."

Held up her hand to halt her mother's future words. "Mom, I told you before that I didn't want it to be because of the baby. If it happens after the baby is born, then that's when it happens. Heck," she knew not to say the other word around her mother, "it might happen when the baby is eighteen and going off to college."

Elizabeth huffed quietly and said no more. She had raised all five of her children to be independent and make their own decisions. They all knew right from wrong. And always stood by the decisions that they made. And she knew Kate had made her decision and was proudly standing by it. It might not be the one Elizabeth wanted for her daughter, but she understood.

The rest of the weekend passed without any altercations. Kate's parents had absolutely adored Gibbs. Her mother had mentioned in passing about a baby shower, which Kate vehemently shot down, but deep down, she knew that someone would eventually throw her a surprise one.


But all thoughts of a surprise baby shower fell by the wayside when the team was handed a new and quite bizarre case. Kate was now studying the photos that McGee had taken at the crime scene yesterday. She missed it so much—being out in the field, but was secretly glad that she being pregnant made her miss this scene. Going down into a man made bunker that had been falling apart above their heads—no thank you.

She was perfectly fine working with everything from the crime scene in a make shift room in the evidence garage. Cycled through the photographs once more, making sure that she had the mock room set up correctly.

"Something's off."

She glanced up at his voice and found him smirking at her. "Gibbs, I recreated it from McGee's photos." The smirk had not left. "Gibbs, everything in here was ALS'ed. All pertinent forensic evidence was set to Abby for analysis and then I rebuilt it from the photos."

Still the smirk stayed. Didn't he know not the make a pregnant woman angry? Especially if said pregnant woman was pregnant with a future soccer player and that future soccer player enjoyed kicking while she was trying to get some sleep. She sighed in frustration when he crooked his finger at her, signaling her to come to him. "This room and everything in it—is exactly how it was when you found it. I may not be allowed in the field right now, but I know how to recreate a crime scene." For emphasis, she held up the notebook of photos for Gibbs to see.

He walked past her and over to the nightstand. Got down on his haunches and carefully slip the lamp over until it was centered on the nightstand. Kate glanced down at the photos—cycled through the pages until she found that particular photo, which showed exactly what he had just done.

Bit her tongue. Breathed deeply through her nose and mentally told herself to remain calm. She couldn't kill her unborn child's father just because he sometimes drove her to the brink of insanity.

Returned to his full height. "What is with his Fifties thing?"

"The Fifties represent an idealized time when the rules between men and women were simpler." Made her way back to the bed and laid down the notebook before withdrawing her PDA

"This was an older guy."

Shot down his assumption. "Actually, I think he's younger. As Tony said, a lot of this stuff in here is authentic Fifties, but a lot of it isn't. Some is Sixties. Some are reproductions. But it isn't pure." She made her way to the other side of the bed, now standing in front of the make-up table.

"Couldn't get his hands on the real deal." Replaced the lid on the tank of the toilet.

"I don't think it mattered. I think he put this room together based on his idea of a fantasy rather than some remembrance of an ideal experience."

"Someone who grew up with it would be more pure?" Always found her sexy when she went into profiling mode.

Made notes in her PDA. "Well, I would think he wanna be as close as to what he'd actually experienced. Plus, he didn't seem to have a problem with picking up and leaving everything behind." Kate turned and faced Gibbs—the bed separating them.

"How do we know that he didn't have to leave?"

"Transferred?" Cocked her head and thought. "It's possible."

Turned away from her and started inspecting the other nightstand. "Ducky said her wedding ring was removed."

"Well, it makes sense, that'd be the only thing he keeps in common with one bride to the next." Turned around and saw him knelt down again. "You know," her voice was light, "it might help if I could observe a re-enactment of the victim's life inside the chamber."

He straightened to his full height again. "Put someone in a wedding dress." Tongue-in-cheek comment.

"Tony would look cute." She couldn't resist.

"Nope. Off interviewing the parents."

Second choice. "Well, McGee then."

"No," drew out the word, "McGee's with Tony."

"Abby?" She was running out of candidates.

As he was walking out of the mock chamber, he replied, "No, up to her tats in forensics tests."

"Well, what about you?" She saw him stop and turn around. Stuck his head back in—his eyes narrowed at her. She smiled sweetly at him. "You won't have to wear the dress." The smile got wider. "You know you love me, Gibbs."

Ran his tongue over his teeth. "Right now, that's debatable—me loving you."

"Why's that?"

"You thought about putting me in a dress."


Should've known it was a trap. That he would've had someone trailing him. But when he flipped that visor up and she saw those eyes again—those kind, flirting eyes that were part of the sadistic bastard—all she saw was red. Reacted blindly, without any thought to the consequences that would surely follow.

She jumped into the first car she came to—huge mistake. They weren't even at the next light when the man in the back held a gun to her neck as he took her SIG Sauer. And then he secured her hands behind her back with zip-ties.

She only wondered where they were taking her and what would happen to her when they arrived at the destination. What had she gotten herself into?

The ringing and vibrating of her cell phone startled. The driver shouted at the passenger in Arabic and suddenly, she was getting felt up as he searched for the source of the ringing. "It's on the belt—on the left," she snarled.

The passenger retrieved the phone and handed it to the driver. He flipped it open and read the miss call out loud. "Who's Gibbs?"

Remained tight lipped. Stared straight ahead. Of course Gibbs would call her if she didn't come back from lunch.

All of a sudden, stars exploded in front of her eyes as the driver slapped her across the face with the back of his hand. Her cheek felt as if it was on fire. She tasted blood in her mouth. Must've bitten her tongue or the inside of her cheek.

"Who...is...Gibbs?" The driver repeated.

Swallowed. Licked her lips. "My boyfriend. He calls me when he leaves the office."

"Where does he work?"

The driver seemed to be buying that story, so Kate responded without thinking—and probably to goad the fucking asshole, see if he would slap her again. "Iraq," she smirked.

The smirk didn't last long on her lips. Oh, yeah, he definitely did not like her response. Stars exploded again. This time he split her lip wide open. The bastard was lucky that her hands were tied behind her back—if they weren't, not even his God could save him from her wrath.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.


Next part to follow shortly...