Waking up in her Don's arms should've been comforting. For a moment it was, until Kitten saw the damage she'd done in the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. There was a light bruise on his right cheekbone under his missing eye, and there were little scratches, one or two proper cuts, along his chest and collarbone from her nails. An awful feeling washed over her and she slipped from G's embrace to retreat from the room with fresh clothes from her dresser.

Closing the bathroom door behind her, Kitten paused before the mirror above the sink and took a long look at herself. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was tousled more than usual from G playing with it to soothe her. She was surprised to find bruises on her upper arms, left from G holding onto her when she panicked and fought to get away, not wanting his comfort. She often had similar bruises and so did he after weekend evenings spent romping between the sheets. Like these ones, those bruises were never intentional. They were just strong people who liked to play a little rough sometimes. But these bruises… they came from G trying to keep her from losing herself, and from Kitten trying to run from a memory that had become a little too vivid a little too suddenly.

Leaving behind her underclothes, Kitten turned on the shower and let it grow warm before stepping into the tub. She simply let it pour down over her whole body, willing the water to wash away the awful guilt she felt for hitting G even when he'd apologized and admitted she was right about his reckless habits. He'd been nothing but sweet to her, and she'd slapped him for it and dug her nails into his chest when he tried to calm her. It wasn't the first time she'd had a panic attack in his presence, but it was the first time she'd lost control completely and even relapsed into a memory of Arnold Forde cornering her in her old flat.

Kitten shivered at the thought and turned the faucet handle a little further toward 'hot.' Then she heard the bathroom door open. Glancing out through the frosted glass door, she could see G's familiar shape moving around and undressing until he opened up the door and stepped in behind her. His tired eye was only half-open as he reached around Kitten for a bar of soap, and she stared down at the drain while he worked up a lather in his hands. It was all so normal, as if the night before hadn't happened. G almost always joined her in the shower after spending the night with her.

Feeling a broad hand lay across her back, Kitten wrapped her arms around herself, trying to find her neutral composure. When he began to smooth the soapy lather over her skin, she almost wanted to cry again at how gentle he was, but she simply stood in silence and let him do as he liked. She should've enjoyed his attention, his hands wandering all over her skin leaving trails of soap behind in a perfectly innocent gesture, but any pleasure was overshadowed by frustration. Seeing no reaction from her at all, G said nothing and simply continued until he'd finished with them both and let the soap wash away. Kitten couldn't help relaxing when he began working shampoo into her hair, the feeling of his fingers massaging her scalp always soothing no matter how mad or hurt she was. And when he pressed a kiss to her shoulder after washing away the shampoo and then the conditioner she always used, she had to finally turn and face him. But she couldn't look him in the eye yet.

He was terribly handsome, she remembered, a mature man with a broad chest and shoulders, his body a solid and pleasing form of squared and triangular lines. She timidly reached out a hand, her slender fingers following the center line of his chest before traveling over his ribs toward the scar from the bullet that had caught his left lung not so long ago. His own hands rested at his sides to keep out of her way, until she took his wrists and placed his hands on her waist in a silent welcome. G took the little half-step to close the distance between them, and Kitten met him with a suddenly-desperate kiss and her fingers gripped tightly at his shoulders. G gladly obliged her. For a moment they could both forget the day before and just enjoy each other. But just as Kitten's fingers came up to tangle in his short, dark hair and run through his short beard, she felt those damned tears welling up again.

Her kiss faltered and she pulled back a few centimeters to take in a shaky breath. G wouldn't let her retreat and hide again, his arms completely encircling her waist now. His forehead rested against hers and they both just stood like that for who knew how long with their eyes closed and the hot water cascading over them. When the water grew lukewarm and told them the water heater was running low, Kitten finally pressed one last kiss to her Don's neck and slipped out to get a towel. G didn't follow immediately, giving her a moment alone while he finished washing his hair.

By the time he emerged, he found Kitten had skipped her own clothes and just stolen one of his huge shirts and rolled the sleeves up to her elbows. He came out in just a pair of dark pants and an undershirt, his hair combed back neatly. Kitten was sitting on the sofa, brushing out her long hair with a paddle brush to get out any tangles from the thick locks. G walked by, reaching out to caress her cheek briefly with his fingers on his way to the kitchen. Coffee and breakfast was in order.

Kitten kept to herself while he worked, playing absently with the buttons on the shirt that dwarfed her slimmer shoulders and slender frame. Everything she owned, right down to the bra she wore underneath and the boxer shorts she sometimes wore in place of more 'feminine' underclothes, fit her correctly. But she couldn't deny the comfort that wearing her Don's shirts gave her. It was a similar feeling to when he wrapped his jacket around her in the cold, or playfully put his hat on her head when she was being too serious. She unconsciously hugged herself about the middle at those thoughts. The sound of plates and silverware being laid on her small dining table eventually caught her ear and she glanced over the back of the couch to see G splitting a large omelet between the plates, soon returning with toast and jam and some sausage. His gentle gaze leveled in her direction silently welcomed her over and he pulled out her usual chair.

Kitten quietly- meekly, even- left her place on the sofa to join him at the table. They ate in silence, one wishing she knew what to say and the other knowing nothing needed to be said. By the time they cleared their dishes away, Kitten wasn't sure if she just wanted to stay in his arms all day, or hide.

He made the choice for her when they walked back into the den and G picked up a light blue blanket from the back of the couch to wrap around Kitten's shoulders, and she let herself settle into his lap when he sat down. They lounged back together, one of his arms resting around her waist and the other laying along the back of the sofa.

"G…" Kitten murmured.

"Hm?"

"I… I'm s-"

"Don't." That gave her pause and she looked up to see his one blue eye still closed.

"What?"

"Don't say it."

"But I… hit you."

"Let's call us even."

"Garrett-"

"You get a shot at me after I nearly get myself shot. I'll call that fair."

"Why are you forgiving me?"

"I'm not. There's nothing to forgive. I'm still waiting on you to forgive me. That is, unless I need to keep saying I'm an idiot to prove I'm sorry." When that blue eye opened to look down at her, Kitten had to avert her gaze in shame.

"You really are an idiot," she muttered, answered with a good-humored chuckle.

"So you tell me, sweetheart." G placed a kiss against her cheek and she shook her head once he pulled away. "Listen to me, Kitten," he whispered, lifting her chin to make her look at him. Once her exhausted brown eyes met his single blue eye, he gave her a handsome smile that made her heart squeeze. "It's okay. I promise everything's okay. Yesterday was pretty scary for everyone involved. I risked a lot walking into that warehouse… and I'm so sorry you felt like you had to come after me. I didn't want you to have to face Forde. I think that was what last night was really about… He brought back some terrible memories, and I was the only person in front of you. I don't mind a couple little scratches and bruises if it means I can get you out of that panic."

"You didn't deserve that," Kitten insisted, and though she wanted to, he wouldn't let her turn away just yet.

"Whether I did or didn't, that's beside the point, Kate. My point is that I needed you to be okay. You might not be okay yet, but I'll get you there. The fact that you were ever okay after Forde still amazes me."

"It was a long time ago."

"So?" When Kitten didn't answer, both his arms settled around her waist. "It was a long time ago… and I'm sorry it happened while you were working for me. If I'd known back then… We wouldn't be dealing with him today. And I hope you don't hate me for letting him live while he's still useful…"

"No, I don't. I know he's still got a part to play for both of us… I'm nothing if not patient."

"Very much so, if you can deal with me."

"You make it sound like I'm obligated."

"True. You could walk out anytime you like, disappear into the wide blue yonder and make a new life in a place where no one knows you. It'd probably be a lot easier than this shit."

"It's worth it," Kitten assured him quietly, her forehead pressing to his cheek.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Kate. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd probably find another secretary."

"Kate…"

"But seeing as you don't know how to do half my work, they'd never get proper training and your business would fall apart until you figured it out." A laugh rumbled from his chest and Kitten couldn't help a tiny smile. "If you're talking about your personal life, you'd probably go through pretty girls like hot cakes because none of them can beat you up like me."

"Well, that'd be one reason."

"What else am I here for other than dragging you to bed on the weekends and berating you during the week?"

"You don't give yourself any credit, Kate," G muttered with a smile. "You're the whole reason I get up on Monday mornings even with a hangover to come into the office." He didn't need to elaborate for Kitten to understand what he meant. They were two people that could be content alone, and they were incredibly independent and it did cause some clashes when the other worried. But together, they were just… comfortable. So it was worth it to struggle through a rough morning just to go into the office and find the other, just for the comfort.

"What are we doing with ourselves, Garrett?" Kitten sighed, a kiss pressed to his chin.

"Annoying each other, breaking laws, and drinking too much," he summarized quite confidently.

"It sounds so fun when you put it that way…"

"I don't know who, but someone once said 'life is what happens while you're busy making other plans.' Sound about right?"

"Just about."

"I don't really want to go to work today."

"Me either."

"Then we'll stay right here, Kitten." She felt a kiss pressed to her temple after her brown eyes closed, and though she still didn't feel very good about the previous night's proceedings, Kitten felt herself relax completely in that safe space between his arms. It wasn't long before they both dozed off, wasting the morning away as they pleased. G would call Grey later and let him know they weren't going into the office, but he didn't care much at the moment with Kitten so warmly nestled against his chest in his huge shirt and her hair still damp against his neck.