GIBBS

He wondered if Kate was aware that he was watching her intently as she wiped the last traces of makeup from her face. She was so methodical he almost felt he was intruding on a private ritual. At the same time he felt strangely touched that she was comfortable enough to sit at the dresser in her pjs to do it, as if this was some kind of regular occurrence. It was a startling change from yesterday, when she'd scurried from the bathroom to the bed as if him seeing her in her nightclothes was completely improper.

"I won't be long," she said suddenly.

He frowned. "Who's rushing you?"

She snorted. "I can practically hear you being patient against your will, Gibbs. I'm sure in your head there's a commentary about how long it's taking me. I mean, I'm glad I don't have to actually listen to it, but we both know it's there, right? You're lying there thinking she's gonna wash her face in the morning anyway, and wondering why I'm bothering, aren't you?"

At least she sounded more amused than annoyed. He considered telling her that for once she hadn't read his mind, but he didn't want her asking what he had been thinking instead. And she had a point - he probably would've been thinking something along those lines if he hadn't been indulging himself in simply watching her instead.

She took his silence as an admission of guilt. "Knew it."

He grinned to himself. You don't know the half of it, Katie girl... "So, outta curiosity, what is the point?"

She shrugged. "I don't especially like waking up with my face smudged all over the pillow."

He remembered all too well what she'd looked like on waking, but he'd keep his reaction to that particular image to himself for now. Telling her she was so sexy in smudged makeup that he'd temporarily forgotten how to breathe probably wouldn't be the wisest move.

"Then wear less makeup." He'd never figured that one out. Why a woman as drop dead gorgeous as Kate felt the need was a mystery to him.

"I don't especially like looking like the walking dead either, Gibbs..."

He blinked. What was she...? "But you look fine without makeup, Katie."

"I was aiming for slightly better than just 'fine'..."

When did fine become a bad thing? This was, he realised, a dangerous road. Whatever he said, he was likely in trouble. He'd probably end up insulting her by accident or inadvertently admitting he thought she was stunning no matter what. Given that they still had the best part of two days before they could get out of here, he should probably keep that to himself as well. Though after that...

"You looked... beautiful."

She looked over her shoulder at him, and even in the semi darkness he could almost feel her searching his face for any hint of insincerity. It was a little endearing that she could have any doubt - she'd looked in the mirror, he thought, she must've had some idea incredible she'd looked.

"Thanks." Her voice wavered slightly. She turned back to the mirror and cleared her throat. "Um. I'm almost done."

"'S OK. It's not exactly a surprise, Kate. Not the first time I've shared a room."

"You don't say..." The playful edge was back in her tone, and relief settled on him like a blanket that this particular minefield hadn't produced any casualties.

"It is true, though. Women always take longer to get ready for bed."

"Whatever, Gibbs."

"Given the circumstances, you can call me Jethro, if you like."

Even as he said it, he realised he didn't really want her to stop calling him Gibbs. Most people spat it out, or barked it, or muttered it with muted reverence, like it was his title. Kate, though, said it like it was... well, his name. Sometimes like a friend, sometimes an enemy, occasionally, even, almost like a lover. He had come to like it.

"Don't you think one pseudonym is enough, Gibbs?"

She was tidying her toiletries away and didn't look at him, but he could practically hear the sarcastic eye roll, and laughed. There it was again. Somehow the way she managed to put so many inflections on that one syllable, conveying anything from contempt to affection, had become comfortable, even comforting. Like the fact that she rarely called him boss, it confirmed to him that their relationship had always been something more than merely colleagues.

"I guess as long as you're not callin' me 'you bastard' to my face every time, I'm doin' OK." Her snigger was totally worth the self deprecating joke. "It's up to you."

"I don't know if I could get used to calling you anything else, now." She chuckled. "A creature of habit, I guess."

She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at him, head on one side as she made a show of thinking about it. He could get used to her trying to tease him, for sure. "I'm just gonna call you Gibbs," she announced, grinning.

"You can call me anything you want."

It had been intended as a joke, but even as he said it, the words resonated in his head and the memories welled up. Finally talking to Shannon at the train station, after admiring her all summer. Him a gawky, green youth, both proud of and a little self conscious about his uniform and his freshly shorn military haircut. Her young and fresh, and smiling, glad he wasn't a lumberjack. Everything so new, so full of promise and hope and possibility.

The pain and loss hit out of nowhere, and he winced at its potency.

"You OK?" He wondered if he'd made some involuntary noise as the recollections rushed in. Or was he just that easy for her to read in the half light? "Gibbs, what's wrong?"

He had to tell her.

Till now it had never been an issue. It just wasn't something he talked about, it was that simple. And that excuse had always been good enough till now, even with Ducky, with Abby... even with Jenny.

But not with her. Not with Kate. Something had changed the last couple of days, something that couldn't be blamed entirely on their being undercover together. He'd attempted to convince himself otherwise, with little success, but this evening had just confirmed he was a fool to even try.

His secretiveness had royally screwed things up too often in the past.

Kate was... she was different, she was special, she was... He couldn't find the words to explain it even to himself, but she was someone he didn't want to lie to, or hide from.

She needed to know. She deserved to know. And what was more surprising, he suddenly realised, was that he wanted her to know.

He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. "Gibbs? You OK?"

Not tonight. It had been another long day, after an exhausting weekend. No matter that the desire to level with her was burning him inside. She needed rest. They both did. Tomorrow, he promised himself.

"Yeah, I'm OK, Kate. Get some sleep."

Her hand stayed where it was for a second, then retreated, and he sighed, a curious mixture of relief and disappointment.

"OK." She didn't sound convinced, but she did sound resigned, and the fatigue fraying her voice reassured him it was the right decision. The sheets rustled, and then she turned the other light off. There was tension in the air and he wondered if she was remembering this morning, if she remembered it as fondly as he did.

He wanted to reach out, and gather her close. It had been a long time since he'd really wanted to snuggle up with anyone, never mind when he was basically throwing out rule 12 to even consider it. She hadn't seemed to mind waking up that way, but that wasn't quite the same as deliberately wrapping her in his arms.

He turned towards her. "Sleep well, Katie." He suddenly noticed she'd edged closer to him, much closer than he'd realised.

Tentatively, he reached out, smoothing her hair away from her face. Her eyes were closed, but he felt her smile as his fingers drifted over her cheek. It was all the encouragement he needed, and he slipped an arm around her shoulders. She made no protest. He tugged her a little closer, and her hand crept round his waist and came to rest on his back as he settled her in close. Apparently, this was very much OK with her.

"'Night Gibbs..." she murmured into his shoulder. "Sweet dreams."

He stroked her hair softly, enjoying the moment as she relaxed and her breathing began to slow into the pattern of sleep. He shook his head with a wry grin.

Who needed sweet dreams when he had Caitlin Todd in his bed and in his arms?