a/n: fair warning: this chapter is the reason for the content warning in the summary of the story.
9. KATE
She didn't dare let herself think about all the reasons this might be a really bad idea, just grabbed his hand and pulled him behind her, leading him toward her bedroom.
He came willingly, his other hand curling possessively around her waist then drawing slow, suggestive circles on her back, sending delicious shivers down her spine. She'd dreamed about those hands... the memory made her walk faster.
Down the hall, through the door, then as she turned to face him, her knees hit the edge of her bed, and she let herself fall backwards, pulling him down on top of her. His body pressing her into the bed was delicious, as was the expression on his face.
Looping a hand around his head, she tugged his mouth to hers, and he readily complied, laughing even as their lips met for a slow, exploratory kiss, tender but thorough. His fingers traced the lines of her face, into her hair, down her neck, as if he was mapping her out, memorising her. As if he'd been waiting to do this for so long, he had to savour each moment in case he was dreaming. The fervour of their kiss from the restaurant was still there, the intoxicating heat, but it was tempered with a desperate kind of yearning which disarmed her completely.
Kate protested when he broke the contact, then whimpered moments later as he kissed a line along her jaw and down her neck. "God... Gibbs," she murmured, and felt his snigger against her throat.
"Either of those works for me."
She could hear the smirk in his voice and gave him a head-slap. "Smug basta- oh!" She lost track again while he worked the sensitive skin of her pulse point, harder now, his control giving way to pure desire, to hunger, like he couldn't get enough of her. His need was bewitching, overwhelming, almost scary in its intensity. She could hardly keep up, though her body was way ahead of her mind, so willing, so eager. She'd never expected it to be quite like this...
Her hands grasped his shoulders helplessly. She was sure she should be doing something, anything, to retaliate (it seemed natural to characterise making out with Gibbs in combative terms), but it was so hard to think straight when - oh! - his mouth was on her skin, and his hands were roaming over the sides of her breasts, round her waist, over her hips, softly teasing her, making her arch into his touch but still holding back enough she found herself begging for more.
"Please, Gibbs - oh - please don't... don't stop... God!"
He laughed again at her exclamation, a husky, satisfied laugh, and the very small part of her brain that hadn't yet melted into a puddle of want observed she was never going to live this down.
He buried his face in her skin and inhaled deeply, nibbled behind her ear, and then he was above her, looking at her with an expression that bordered on disbelief. "Katie. My Katie."
A primal, visceral part of her turned over joyously at the possessiveness in the whispered words, and she couldn't help her delighted smile.
He studied her face as if he was trying to learn her by heart, drinking her in, his eyes bright and wide and wondering as he smiled back down at her. He stroked her cheek with the pads of his fingers, touched her bottom lip with his thumb, then bent down and claimed her mouth with a kiss that was almost reverent.
His mouth was soft and hard, sweet and hot on hers, so good, so... so right. She groaned, then gasped as his roving hands finally stopped teasing her and slid up under her top at last to gently caress her skin.
All of a sudden something surfaced, vivid and dark, from a place in her mind she'd been trying hard to avoid. A memory of other hands, other fingers, not gently teasing but taunting her, unwelcome and unwanted - a touch meant to remind her she was at the mercy of others and had no choice in what did or did not happen, that she was helpless and defenceless and couldn't fight back, and the hands could touch her wherever and whenever they wanted. She shrank away from the sensation and curled up into a ball, protecting herself as best she could.
A familiar voice calling her name was all but drowned out by the other voices, voices making promises that terrified and horrified her. Discrete memory disintegrated into incoherent flashes, snatches of nightmares and images she was afraid to see in detail. There were hands reaching for her and she didn't know whose, didn't know if she could trust them.
She screwed her eyes shut, wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled herself into a tighter knot, trying to block everything out. A light turned on and she cringed away from it, afraid of what it meant, disoriented and scared. Her mouth was dry, a bitter taste in her throat.
There was a small voice in her head telling her to keep breathing: who it belonged to she wasn't sure, but it felt - trustworthy. It was a life raft, strong arms wrapping around her and holding her up, keeping her safe. She clung to it as waves of fear swept through her, as panic overwhelmed her and she shuddered under the weight of memory.
Keep breathing, Katie. Keep breathing.
Slowly, the tide began to subside and reality asserted itself enough for her to risk opening her eyes, first just a crack, and then properly, as her body reassured her that despite her mind's insistence, she was safe, no longer a prisoner or a hostage.
As her breathing calmed and the world came back into focus, she became aware of someone watching over her.
"Breathe, Kate."
Gibbs. Gibbs is here. I'm safe. Her head in his lap, her arms locked tightly around one of his, his free hand stroking her hair. She closed her eyes again, took a few deep breaths. Keep breathing. Gibbs would keep her safe. "You'll keep me safe."
"I will, Katie. I promise."
She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but his response settled deep down inside her and calmed her at least as much as his physical presence did. She snuggled in closer, smiled wanly when she felt him lean down to kiss her cheek. Eventually she relaxed enough to loosen her death grip on his arm and sat up to wrap him in a hug instead, burying her face in his chest where she felt secure, letting the even up and down of his breathing set the pace for her own.
When her heartbeat had subsided to something closer to normal, she raised her head enough to look him in the eye. "Thank you."
He smiled softly, shrugged a shoulder as if to say it was nothing.
"No, really," she insisted. "Thank you. And I... I'm sorry, for-"
To her surprise, he shook his head. One hand moved to cradle her face and he kissed her, sweet but fierce, then looked down into her eyes.
"You have nothing-" He paused for a second, and his expression grew more determined "-nothing to apologise for." He spoke quietly, but his tone was firm, deliberate. Another pause to let the words sink in. "Nothing, you hear me?"
Tears welled up. "Really?" She could hear the quaver in her own voice, the desperate uncertainty, the plea for reassurance.
He scanned her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheekbone, then his eyes met hers again, his face softening. "Absolutely nothin' at all."
Overwhelmed, Kate let her eyes drop from his and tucked herself under his chin again, enjoying the comfort of his presence and trying to wrap her mind around his assurances. Tears were sliding down her face and dripping off her nose, but just now she couldn't make herself care.
"Thank you," she whispered again. "Thank you... Jethro." The name was unfamiliar in her mouth, and it felt quite strange to use it, but somehow it also seemed... right.
Gibbs drew her in a little closer, chuckled softly. "You're welcome, Katie."
Yes, it was odd, but it was right, and he understood. She smiled and burrowed in, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat under her ear. She could almost fall asleep like this, she realised, as the surge of adrenaline started to wear off and her body protested its aftermath.
She had no idea how long they'd been sitting there, how long the panic attack had lasted, how long it had taken for her to recover; she just knew she was shattered.
The sound of Gibbs stifling a yawn set her off too, and she looked up at him sheepishly. "Long day," she said, and he nodded, pulling a face that made her giggle unexpectedly.
Reluctantly she moved away from him, just enough to sit herself at the edge of the bed and take a few deep breaths, stretch, regain a bit more of her composure.
She felt him move to sit alongside her and looked up at him when he stood. He reached down to wipe the remaining tears off her cheeks, then took a step away from the bed, away from her.
His expression was regretful. "I should- uh-"
It dawned on her that having her fall apart on him mid seduction might have given him the wrong idea, despite her limpet impression afterwards. "Stay?" He seemed confused and uncertain, and really, she couldn't blame him. She reached out a hand to catch his and tugged him closer. "Please?"
Maybe she should explain she'd been imagining him in her bedroom for longer than she cared to admit. She wasn't about to throw him out now it had finally become reality, even if her personal demons were not making this easy.
He searched her face intently for a few more seconds, then nodded, looking relieved. Her own relief blossomed into a smile as he sat back down next to her and began to unbutton his shirt.
It occurred to her, as she started to peel off her clothes, that she should feel... what? Something. Self-conscious? Embarrassed to undress in front of him? But here she was unfastening her bra with one hand as she rescued her pjs from the end of the bed, and she was almost naked and it didn't bother her at all.
It was freeing. Gibbs could look his fill, and she was fine with that. She felt no need to hide, which seemed like a miracle in itself.
Things might have gotten a bit... complicated, this might not have gone as smoothly as she would've liked, but she was ready to jump and he was ready to catch her, and nothing else seemed to matter. The rest of it... they'd figure it out.
She stood to tug her sleep shorts on and smiled to herself in amusement. What a healthy attitude she was showing; Rachel would be proud.
As she reached to retrieve the pyjama top, she heard Gibbs' sudden intake of breath, then felt him lightly trace a finger down a line she had done her best to forget existed. She stiffened, but forced herself to stand still, let him see. Okay, so maybe this whole attitude adjustment thing will take a while.
She felt his breath against her skin before he placed the gentlest of kisses where the scar reached her waist, then stood and wrapped his arms around her firmly, protectively. She leaned back against him, relaxing into the comfort of his embrace.
"Katie... I- I'm so sorry you had to go through-" he paused, took a deep breath, cleared his throat "-all that."
"Me too," she murmured. She twisted round in his arms to look up at him. "But I'm glad I ended up here. With you." She rose up on tiptoe to kiss him, then drew away to slip the top over her head.
Gibbs had stripped down to boxers and undershirt, exactly how she'd found him this morning. Then she'd been embarrassed and surprised - and not a little turned on, if she was honest. Now she just wanted to cling on and touch as much of him as she could, relish the security of his presence, and she knew he'd let her. It was funny how much things could change in the course of one day.
She plucked at his t-shirt, and wondered if she had the right to insist he took it off. She wanted, needed to feel his skin under her hands and against her cheek, needed fewer layers between them - even if it was hypocritical when she'd just added one of her own.
"I- you're-" Was there a subtle way to tell him he had too many clothes on?
She didn't quite know how she could word it without it sounding like a come on when she was in no fit state to follow through. It wasn't as if Gibbs was about to berate her for being a tease here, but still...
She settled for skimming her hands up under his shirt and over his stomach, then shooting him a pleading look up through her eyelashes.
He smirked and she rolled her eyes.
"Cocky," she chided, and Gibbs just shrugged, the look on his face clearly saying he wasn't the one insisting on fewer clothes. He raised his arms to let her get rid of the shirt, and then unexpectedly one was under her shoulders, the other under her knees, and he was lifting her into the bed and climbing in after her.
Kate giggled again, to her own surprise, and didn't object in the least as he settled them down in an intimate embrace despite her bed being a queen sized monstrosity. He was strong and solid and reassuring, and having him here with her made her feel loved and protected.
His chin resting on his hand, he gazed down at her with unmistakable affection, and she smiled up at him.
"Thank you," she said again. "Thank you for making me feel safe."
The look on his face as he leaned down for one more kiss was an expression she'd never even dared imagine on his face, never mind aimed at her. Then he settled himself comfortably back against the pillows and pulled her in close.
"You are safe, Katie. I'll make sure of it."
It wasn't that she didn't believe him, but oh, it felt so good to hear him say it aloud. "You will?" she asked sleepily, the exhaustion of the last few hours finally catching up with her.
"I'll always keep you safe," he murmured, and the whispered promise was the last thing she heard before she finally fell asleep.
