Gibbs was up late, two days before Christmas, shoveling the snow in the driveway. Andrew had shoveled earlier, but the snow had kept coming down heavily since then. He didn't mind the hard work, because it gave him time away from the suffocation of Kate's extended family, who had all descended on the house in the last few days. The bruises on his face had faded, so he looked less like Scrooge incarnated, and more like the man who loved Caitlin Todd. Even if she didn't know it. Even if he hadn't said it.

As he shoveled, he became aware that someone was watching him, and he turned, only to see Elle watching him. Michael had walked out after his fight with Gibbs, and hadn't been seen since. Gibbs didn't mind. But did Elle understand what was going on? She was only four after all.

"Uncle Gibbs?" she asked.

He got back to shoveling the long driveway, "Yeah Elle?"

"Did you and Auntie K have a fight?"

"Why would you ask that?" he responded.

"Because you hurt your face."

"I'll be fine, Elle. Don't worry." He bore no grudge against the sweet little girl who called him Uncle Gibbs. She didn't pick her father after all.

"Did Auntie K hurt you?"

"Of course not. Auntie K isn't like that." He leaned on the shovel, turning to her. "Why would ya ask that?"

"Because," she said seriously, "Sometimes my mommy has a hurt face after she fights with my daddy."

He took a deep breath. Jesus. It could only get better. "Don't worry about Auntie K and I, Elle. Just focus on Christmas, got it?"

"Are you and Auntie K happy?"

"I think so." He got back to shoveling.

"You think so?"

"I haven't asked her lately," he grunted. "I hope she's happy."

"Elle!" He and Elle both turned to see Angela standing at the door, arms crossed.

"What is it mommy?"

"Don't bug Gibbs, okay? Grandma and I are taking you shopping, so come on." Angela held out a hand, and her daughter ran to take it. Rosalie was out the door after her with Laura, not meeting Gibbs' eye. He wasn't shocked of course, because, well, she had been unusually silent ever since she'd caught them kissing in the closet. He wasn't exactly sure what crossed her mind when she looked at him, but the way she crossed herself every time their eyes locked likely meant it was nothing good. The four of them took off, and as soon as they did, he straightened, breathing a quick sigh of relief.

This was the first time the house had been empty since the party. Only he and Kate were still around. He put the shovel back in the garage, and stomped into the mud room. He pulled the scarf from around his neck, and shed his outer layers, wanting to go look for Kate. He had no idea where she was, but curled up with a book somewhere, like she usually was, was a pretty good bet.

But wandering around the lower level of the Todd didn't reveal her location. So he started up the stairs, two at a time, and when he got to the landing, he heard running water, and figured she was in the shower. He froze, hand gripping the railing, as the vision of Kate showering came to him, freckled skin slick with soap... He slapped a palm to his forehead, wondering why his mind was essentially that of a teenage boy. How could he claim he was any better than DiNozzo?

He walked into his room, trying to ignore his rather perverted thoughts, as he sat on the bed. But he couldn't help it. And then the door opened. He stood up, by instinct, only to see Kate, clad in nothing but a very thin towel that clung to her body, damp. Her hair was up, and she saw he was standing there.

"Gibbs…" she stood there, dripping water on the floor. He walked over, and leaned against the door frame.

"You lost, Katie?" He tugged on a loose strand of her hair, smirking.

"No."

"Then why are ya wearin' nothin' but a towel and standin' in my doorway?"

She rolled her eyes as she looked up at him. He was so close to her that he could feel the heat of her skin through the towel, the towel that did nothing to really hide her figure, "Maybe I'm your Christmas present."

"Nice thought. Still don't explain why you're in my room."

"Actually, I left my shirt in here the other day," she admitted, and walked over, grabbing her shirt off his bed.

"How did your shirt end up in here, Katie?" he asked, smirking.

"You're the investigator, Agent Gibbs," she teased as she walked by. "You tell me."

His mouth dropped open, watching her walk back into the bathroom. The door clicked shut, and he stood there, shaking his head. He walked over and knocked on the door. "Kate! Ya can't just walk away after sayin' that, c'mon!"

The door cracked open, and she looked at him, "Can I help you?"

"Maybe I could join ya next time?" he asked, blinking innocently at her.

He heard her snort, "You think I need company, Gibbs?"

"No, not company. But, I think ya need somethin' all right."

She closed the door, and he heard her mutter once the door closed, "Jesus." He chuckled to himself, proud at having gotten her flustered. It generally, as he'd learned, took a lot to get Kate to blush, but he was curious if her blush spread all over her body, or if it was limited to her neck and up? He wanted to explore- and he was also very glad that Rosalie was not in the house at the moment.

He knocked on the bathroom door again, and opened it when there was no answer. The bathroom was empty, nothing to indicate it had ever been occupied, save the scent of roses in the air, a damp towel hung on the rack, and steam fogging up the mirror- well Goddamn.

He stared at the steamy mirror, his forehead furrowed as he mouthed the phrase written there.

L. J.G.

"Damn," he said softly, reaching out and tracing a finger along the heart on the mirror. His heart pounded a little harder as he smiled to himself. He had the urge, once more, to go find Kate. He opened his door and yelled down the stairs. "Kate!"

"I'm in the kitchen!" she called back, and he practically ran down the stairs, only to slow enough that his walk into the kitchen appeared casual, smiling at the sight of her. She was leaning against the counter, now thankfully dressed, nose buried in a recipe book. She was wearing jeans and a tight red shirt, her sleeves rolled up, her hair pulled back from her face. He leaned against the doorway, content to stand and watch her.

"Are you just gonna stare or are you going to help me, Gibbs?" she asked, looking up and fixing him with her own death glare. She'd had plenty of practice, of course, working with him.

"Thought I'd watch you for a while."

"And I thought you'd got your fill of staring upstairs," she said lightly, as she flipped through the recipe book.

"Oh Katie, I'll never get my fill of watchin' someone as beautiful as you." He smiled to himself as a blush crept up her neck, and she wouldn't look at him.

"Gibbs if you're going to be within ten feet of me, you better be helping or else."

He was very tempted to ask what she would do if he didn't help, but somehow felt like it wouldn't end well for him if he tried. "You know," he walked over and leaned on the counter beside her, "Got the house all to ourselves."

"And?"

"I can think of some things we can do before your family gets back," he trailed a finger along the back of her neck, suggestively, and grinned when she shivered.

She rolled her eyes, "Is sex all you think about?"

"Kate, I'm not thinkin' of sex right now. Well. Maybe I am."

"Typical man."

He nudged his shoulder against her, "Fine. I think of food sometimes too."

"Then I've got the perfect job for you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You are going to help me make cookies, and cake, and maybe a pie if we have time. We've only got four hours you know."

"Baking?" he asked, staring at her.

"Yes, Gibbs, I know this domestic crap isn't your thing, but today it is." She grinned, before rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen.

"Well, Kate, you can stop stereotypin' me as a helpless bachelor. I can cook."

"Steaks. Over a fire," she mumbled. "That's not cooking."

"I make breakfast too!" he protested, "I'll make ya breakfast sometime."

"Getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to come and eat breakfast with you? No thanks."

"Won't be getting up early if ya just stay over."

She tossed him an apron, "Stop flirting and help me."

"It's gonna take four hours to make cookies?" He had horrifying visions of not taking advantage of the alone time they had. He watched as she tied on a bright red-and-white striped apron, meant to look like a candy cane.

"No, those four hours are just to make sure we've got a good window, and if we have time for other things, then we'll do other things."

He perked up at that, "Oh? Shit, Kate, now I'm excited for this baking."

"Like watching Christmas movies… your mind is almost as dirty as your mouth."

"You love it," he teased, "You wanna know what I'm really thinking?"

She turned to him, and looked up, draping her arms around his neck, "What are you really thinking, Gibbs?"

"I'm thinkin' how nice you'd look, wearing that apron and nothin' else."

"Gibbs!" She swatted at him with her tea towel.

"We can get rid of the apron if ya want." He said with a straight face.

"Just help me bake these cookies. And maybe you'll be aptly rewarded." She smiled and turned back to the recipe book.

He closed the book, reaching around her to do so, "In that case, I pick the recipe."

"You didn't bring recipes with you, did you? Or do you bring recipes and coffee when you go on cases?"

"Nah, but I know my mom's cookie recipe by heart."

"Your mom's recipe?"

"She was a hell of a baker, Kate." He said seriously.

"You never really talk about your mom," she said, her voice thoughtful.

"Well, she had a hell of a spirit. And always let ya knew when you were wrong. Reminds me of someone else I know."

"You're not talking me into sex, Gibbs," she teased.

"Maybe later then."

"Nice try, now come on, tell me the recipe."

"One condition."

"Name it," she got in his face.

He kissed her on the forehead, "We actually do somethin' later."

She sighed, "Fine."

XNCISX

She was mixing a bowl of chocolate cake batter, and Gibbs was sliding a tray of toffee shortbread into the oven.

"Here, Gibbs, I'll switch with you," she offered.

"What, rolling cookies?" he asked, throwing the oven mitts on the counter.

"Yeah."

"Sure." He grabbed the bowl of batter from her and starting mixing it, smiling to himself as she kept rolling out balls of dough. "Hey Katie."

She turned, exasperated, "What, Gibbs?"

He managed to keep a straight face, as he pointed at the cookie dough she was rolling. "Don't ya need a jockstrap for your balls?"

She snorted. "Gibbs, since when do you have a sense of humor?"

"Since I met ya, Katie."

"I gave you a sense of humor?" She asked, incredulous.

"Happiness. You make me laugh Kate. And all I want is to make ya laugh too. You're so cute when you laugh."

"So are you, LJ." She teased in response.

"Kate puppies are cute. Abby is cute. I'm not cute." He made a face.

"You are too."

He walked over, still carrying the bowl of batter "I can make ya laugh, Katie."

"Is that right?" she asked.

He stuck a thumb into the batter and smeared some of the gooey batter on the tip of her nose. "That's better."

She did laugh, which was his goal. "Jesus, it's slimy!" She made a grab for the bowl, and he expertly dodged it, watching her shiver as the batter dripped down her face.

"Nice try, Katie!"

She lunged for it again and missed, crashing into Gibbs in the process. He got the batter spread across his shirt, "Damn it."

She pulled away, and stared at it. "Oh-"

He grabbed a handful and threw it. She ducked, shrieking, "What the hell?"

"Haven't ya ever heard of a food fight, Katie?"

She stopped, and stared, before a smile graced her lips. "For a sniper, you have terrible aim."

"I'll show ya terrible aim," he threw more and it splashed all over her shirt, as she held up her hands, laughing.

She reached behind her and threw a ball of cookie dough at him. It hit him in the face, and he started laughing, flipping more batter at her with the spoon. It was splattered all over the counter behind Kate, and she threw herself at him, trying to get to the bowl of sugary batter. She succeeded. "The tables have turned." She announced.

Gibbs grabbed a baking sheet as a shield, "The hell they have."

She threw, a baseball pitch of a throw, and managed to get the baking sheet.

She threw again, and got the side of his face. It was his turn to try and reclaim the batter, and he had marginally less success, because his flying tackle sent both of them, and the bowl of batter crashing to the floor, chocolate brownie batter going everywhere. He was lying on top of her, panting with breathless laughter, and she was laughing too, reeling from the effects of a full-grown former Marine crashing into her. Not that she minded.

She looked up at him, and he grinned, and reached over to the bowl, swiping his thumb through the batter again, and before she could protest that she was a mess, thanks to him, he brushed the sweet batter across her lips. He smiled down at her, before leaning in, and capturing her lips with his. She kissed him back, despite the cold floor beneath her. She couldn't help but think it would all be better in a bed. Then she got lost in thought, thinking of all the things she could do with Leroy Jethro Gibbs, a bed, and a few hours alone.

He pulled away, and looked down at her, "You are the sweetest thing I've ever tasted."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," she replied, knowing she was blushing.

He got up off of her, offering his hand, "C'mon."

He pulled her into a kiss, his arms wrapping around her, once they were both standing up, and he leaned her against the island in the middle of the kitchen, effectively pinning her there, as he explored her lips with his, the taste of chocolate still on his lips from where he'd been sampling their baked goods. He reached around behind her and untied the apron strings, so that the candy cane apron dropped to the floor, with a sound that put knots in his belly. Next thing she knew, he was lifting her and setting her down on the counter, his mouth on hers, full of warmth and need and wow. His hands were grasping at her shoulders, her lips captive in his, her own hands tugging at his hair, because for all she teased him about it, she found his hair to be one of his best features. Her legs wrapped around his waist, as she moved closer, desperate for his touch.

They had to break away for oxygen, briefly, and he looked down at her, breathlessly, "What are you thinkin', Katie?"

She blinked up at him, knowing that her thoughts were not suitable to share with her boss. But her mouth was ahead of her brain on that score, "I bet you would look good under me, Gibbs."

His eyes went wide, as he smirked down at her, "It's a good thing your mother isn't here, because that would definitely have her reachin' for the holy water."

"And what are you thinking?" she asked.

"Me? I'm thinkin' of a billion ways I can make ya scream."

She stared up at him, mouth open, and he leaned back in. She smiled into his lips, helpless to do anything but go with it, if the waves of heat pulsing through her belly were any indication. Damn him for being able to turn her into a puddle of goo. The smile turned to a groan, as his lips slid to her neck. "Please, yes…" she gasped, as his hands caressed the back of her neck, causing her to shiver and move her hips against him.

He continued kissing her neck, before moving, and tugging at her ear with his teeth. She swallowed a groan, and then he pulled away, somewhat. Her legs were still wrapped quite firmly around his legs, and- "Gibbs."

"Yeah?" he looked down at her, eyebrow raised.

"Are you still carrying a gun, or are you just happy to see me?"

He sighed deeply, as she moved her hips against his, "Katie, you're gorgeous. Can hardly blame me. Beautiful woman wrapped around me…. I'm only human." He reached for the hem of her shirt, and she nodded, wordlessly.

She moved slightly against him, and he was so very tempted to make love to her right there on the counter. Instead he lifted her shirt over her head, and abandoned it, leaving him to admire her in the better lighting of the kitchen.

"Please…" he said, and she smirked to herself, before scooting closer on the counter, tightening the grip her long legs had around his waist, and pressing her mouth to his, biting at his lip as she did so. He groaned into the kiss. He would willingly get down on his knees and beg for the chance to share her bed, and pay her the due he owed. She was running her fingers through his hair, her mouth hot against his, her tongue against his lips. It wasn't as though he minded, but as he grasped at her thighs, feeling the muscles, her whole body tensed against his.

She pulled away breathlessly "Jesus Christ, Gibbs."

"Dirty mouth," he mumbled.

"Only for you." She leaned back, as he turned to her neck, pressing gentle kisses down her neck, before nibbling at her collarbone and pressing kisses all over her shoulders, noting that there were what felt like hundreds of freckles. He made it his mission to kiss each one, alternating between nibbling and kissing her shoulders, and collarbone. All he wanted was to kneel at her feet and offer supplication to his personal deity.

The long gasping sigh that escaped her lips, made him pull away long enough to stare, trying to capture the image of Caitlin Todd, eyes closed in pleasure. He wanted to remember it forever.

He moved his mouth back to her shoulders, his hands unzipping her jeans, only to get a bit of a surprise, when he tugged her pants away from where they clung to her body.

"Jesus, Kate."

She laughed a bit breathlessly, "Good or bad?"

"Do you usually do this?" he mumbled.

"Not usually."

"Damn you, Kate, and your scheming. It's December out, you should be wearing something under your jeans, you'll freeze."

"I distinctly remember- oh God keep going- you saying something about how you'd keep me warm. Don't go backing… out now … Jesus Christ." His hips were moving against hers, and she bit her lip, staring up at him. He began where he had before, pressing kisses down her neck and collarbone, before staring with awe in his eyes as he looked down at her, looking over her body, every scar and freckle reflected in his gaze.

He ran his thumbs over her breasts, cupping her through the thin fabric still covering them. He heard an actual whimper escape her, and he grinned. He continued pressing kisses down her belly, and over her lower belly which made her jerk reflexively against him in ways he would definitely make her pay for later. Her hips were now in a regular rhythm, working against his, and it made him curse into her warm skin.

"Gibbs."

He reached up, pressing his lips to hers again, biting at her lip as they continued, just as they heard the front door to the house open. She pulled away frantically, both of them realizing how bad it would look. The two of them in a state of indecency, with a kitchen that looked like a bomb went off. He helped her off the counter. She grabbed her stained shirt off the floor, and pulled it back over her head.

"Later," she whispered, before turning to head down the hall. Gibbs was left there, mildly dazed at the thought of what later meant. Did she really mean-? He hoped. And while the mood was well and truly killed, his body hadn't quite gotten the message. All he wanted was to cuddle up with her in front of a fire, and if he was lucky- finish what they'd started.

And then he heard Kate scream. Every instinct reacted before he knew what he was doing, and he rushed, completely unarmed, into the front hall, where snow was blowing into the room. Michael was lying on the front steps, blood pooling around him… and there was a man standing there, pointing a gun at Kate. At his Katie.

When he saw Gibbs, he smirked, his eyes cold. Gibbs tensed, about to jump at him, but he met eyes with Kate who shook her head.

"I think, Special Agent Gibbs, that the two of you have done enough meddling."

"It's just me you want." Kate stepped forward, "Only me. Gibbs has nothing to do with this. It's my hometown, my responsibility."

"No, I don't think so. I got us into this mess." Gibbs glared at her, trying to convey the message to shut up.

"Hell no. Take me."

"Oh for God's sake, how would you feel if the last conversation the two of you ever had was an argument?"

"It won't be," Gibbs took a gamble, "You're not gonna shoot us."

"No? Try me, Agent Gibbs."

"Kate," he turned to her, "Go call your dad."

Before she could move, the gun was trained on her again. "Kate will do no such thing, will you Kate?"

"Go to hell," Kate snapped.

"Kate," Gibbs said through his teeth. "I'm not bargainin' with ya on this."

"And I'm not going anywhere." She said just as firmly, eyes blazing with anger.

"I'm taking both of you." He gestured at the door, "So move."

"At least let Kate put on a coat-,"

"Why so your future wife number five doesn't catch a chill? Move, or I'll shoot her. And then, once you've watched her die, I'll kill you."

Gibbs walked over slowly, cursing the fact that he'd let his guard down, and his weapon was still upstairs. He was completely unarmed with a madman, and the love of his life. It wasn't going to end well. He grabbed Kate's hand, "You still with me, Katie?"

She nodded slowly as the man marched them outside. She squeezed his hand as they were marched to a waiting car, "I'm still with you, Jethro."