KATE

It seemed like getting into bed together should be less strange tonight, but Kate had never felt so nervous of sharing. Gibbs was sitting on the other side, rummaging in the suitcase he still hadn't entirely unpacked (she had rescued everything that was easily creased, but figured his boxers could fend for themselves), apparently without a care in the world, and - uncharacteristically - humming again.

She stood by the bed, chewing on her bottom lip. She still had to change and remove her makeup, but she kept getting distracted by worry and hope and anticipation and fear, and all the other emotions that didn't feel so much like butterflies in her stomach as a herd of elephants. Now she was just stalling, and hating herself for it.

It had been one thing last night, she had been painfully aware of his presence on the far side of the mattress, but since waking up in his arms this morning... Suddenly she felt incredibly self conscious, wanting so much to relive the experience, but also afraid. Afraid of what might happen. Afraid of what might not.

"I can sleep on the sofa if you'd rather," said Gibbs, jogging her out of her thoughts.

He looked... well, maybe a little nervous himself, which perversely made her feel rather better. And while she was sure he would sleep on the sofa if she preferred, she didn't get the impression he wanted to. That could just mean he didn't want to get a crick in his neck, but she'd seen him sleep peacefully for hours on a canvas seat slung between cargo pallets. Maybe he was as off balance as she was. Or... maybe she was over thinking things, as usual.

She shook her head. "Don't be crazy. There's enough room for three at least in this bed."

He gave her a strange look, then a slow, mischievous smile, and raised an eyebrow. "Oo-rah..."

Oh for pity's sake, what a time for a Freudian slip, Kate. She blushed. "That came out wrong. I just meant-"

"I know what you meant, Katie," he said with a teasing grin before turning back to his suitcase.

She threw one of the fussy decorative pillows at him. "Giiiiibbs!"

He caught the pillow one handed, without looking and with his usual infuriating Marine efficiency.

"I guess that's another reason to be grateful I'm here with you, not DiNozzo," she added as he settled himself down. "Tony would never let me live a comment like that down. He'd probably tell everyone at NCIS I propositioned him for a threesome."

Gibbs chuckled. "Uh huh, that would be quite a story..."

"No need to look so smug, Gibbs, you know I didn't mean it the way it came out. You know I wouldn't - I mean, I'm not-"

"I promise Kate, you have nothing to worry about. I'm not DiNozzo."

"I know," she admitted softly. "You wouldn't gossip."

"Also..." The word was so quiet she wasn't certain she was meant to hear it.

Eventually, the pause started to make her feel uncomfortable. "Also what, Gibbs?"

One quick flash of those bright blue eyes then he turned off the lamp on his side of the bed, leaving his face slightly shadowed as he let his head fall back onto the pillow. He was silent for a moment longer, staring at the ceiling, or at least no longer looking at her. She began to wonder if he'd finish the thought.

"Also... also, I don't share, Kate."

She didn't know quite how to respond to that.