Author's Note: You are all so patient! I sincerely apologize. Work, school, and sickness... Well, you know how it goes. I am posting the rest of the story today, two platonic chapters, and two romantic chapters. Enjoy!


Part 9: Kate

When Kate woke up the next morning, she struggled to remember how she'd made it to bed the night before. She vaguely remembered changing her clothes, washing her face, and brushing her teeth, and she remembered something about Tony trying to sleep on the floor, but the rest was more than a little hazy. It bothered her a little. She liked knowing how she ended up places. A few less than smart nights in university had cured her of any romantic notions about waking up with no memory of the night before. So, as she slowly woke up, she turned her attention to trying to decipher the mystery.

What was that hiding back there in the fog? Being carried in strong arms down the stairs and laid on the bed? Yeah, right. That had to be a dream. A nice dream… Eyes still closed, Kate smiled. Carried like a princess, or a real girlfriend, down the stairs to bed? Definitely a nice dream. Definitely something Tony wouldn't do.

She was waking up more now, and while the fog over most of the previous evening remained, she devoted more conscious thought to it. She'd gone out to see Tony in the greenhouse; Mario had sent her out there after she'd finished helping Rebecca bathe the two girls. Tony had seemed… a little undone. Not to the same extent that he'd started the weekend, granted, but more than a little disturbed by something he was thinking about. So she'd tried to get it out of him, and though she was willing to admit that part of it was the responsibility Mario and Rebecca wanted to give him as godfather, she'd known that wasn't everything. And she was also willing to admit that maybe he couldn't talk about it yet. But, as before, she'd known what she'd had to do. With words ineffective, she'd turned to gesture once again.

It was funny, really, how quickly she'd become used to touching Tony. It wasn't that she didn't like touching people; she did. But it was usually a slow process to get to the point where she was innately comfortable just reaching out. Posing as Tony's girlfriend had forced her to condense that process. Hmm, she ought to go undercover more often, if this was the result.

She yanked her thoughts forcefully back to the topic at hand, because it was after she'd leaned against him that events began to disappear into the fog that might or might not have been a dream. She remembered listening to his heartbeat as they'd sat together, and remembered the way his fingertips had moved against her arm in time with it. The sound and the contact had lulled her, until… In her mind, she shuddered as she had done physically then. Until her body had reacted in a decidedly non-platonic way to what he was doing. A partial-strength remnant of the feeling coursed through her body as she thought about it, and her lips twitched against a frown. She'd had no business getting turned on by such a friendly, innocent gesture. Good God, this was Tony! True, they'd become much closer over the course of the weekend, but that was only as friends. Right?

Luckily, he'd stopped doing it, and she'd been able to shunt her reaction aside, although with some difficulty. Then it had just been his heart, and his cheek resting on her head, and his arm around her, and that was when the whole day had caught up with her, and she'd fallen asleep. And after that?

After that was a nebulous remembrance of saying good night to Rebecca, followed by something about Tony's nieces (though damned if she could remember what), and that strange dream of being carried through the house. Her brow furrowed slightly. There was something else in the mist as well. Was that Tony, leaning down and kissing her forehead?

Now she knew she had been dreaming. There was no way Tony would be caught in such a tender gesture with no one else around. Still, she thought as she allowed her face to relax again, it had been a nice dream…

Wait a minute. What was she doing? They were playing a role, that was all. She and Tony were just friends, good friends. He wasn't her lover. She didn't want him to be her lover… Unbidden, an extraordinarily erotic image appeared in her head, and her eyes flew open as she had to draw a quick breath in through her mouth.

And there he was. Right in front of her. Asleep.

She quashed her automatic reaction to roll away, knowing such a sudden movement would wake him up. She didn't want him to wake up yet, not with her body still singing from her completely inappropriate thoughts. As she became more fully aware of her surroundings, she took a catalog of the situation. Clothes on, lying on her side, facing Tony, who was also on his side, positioned so that his knees rested lightly against her legs. Their hands were touching, but not intertwined, between them. The early morning light that filtered in through the high window bathed them in blue, but didn't affect her ability to see. And he was sound asleep.

He looks… sweet, she thought. Despite the dimness, she was close enough to make out details she couldn't normally. He had long, thick eyelashes. His eyebrows were well defined and shapely. His hair was delightfully tousled. His mouth was pursed slightly.

Kate contemplated his mouth for a time. Wouldn't it be funny if she woke him up with a kiss? Do a bit of a number on him the way he'd done on her yesterday? What would he do? Probably kiss her back. Woken out of a deep sleep, he'd probably just react instead of think. She allowed herself to think about exactly what form his reaction might take, and she started to smile.

Hang on a minute…

The smile dropped away. This was the second time in almost as many minutes she'd had to stop herself from thinking of Tony as anything more than a friend. Add to that her reaction to him last night, and the dreams she'd had… Great, Kate. Play Tony's girlfriend for twenty-four hours, and you end up thinking that you are his girlfriend. Get a grip!

But…

No. No buts. Tony is your friend. He doesn't feel that way about you.

What, the way you feel about him?

She stiffened as the accusation rang loud in her head. The way she felt about him? What way? They were just friends…

Yeah, Kate, that's why you can't get your mind off his oh so talented mouth. That's why you came out here with him.

But it was why she'd come out here with him–

There are things you do for friends, Kate, and this isn't one of them. This is the kind of thing you do for someone who's under your skin in more ways than one.

Oh, come on. She'd do the same thing for Gibbs…

Liar.

Hey, that wasn't–

All right, if you're so sure, tell me what was going on here.

In her mind's eye, Tony's face was as close to hers as it was now, but his eyes were open, and she had just finished telling him he was being an idiot. His gaze had been locked on hers, and his expression unmasked; she could see that she'd made an impression. But there was something else going on in his head, and she'd held him close in an effort to decipher what. Two realizations had come to her at the same moment: first, that he was in an excellent position to just lean forward and kiss her, and second, that she was in the same excellent position. This led to two further thoughts: why didn't he, and why didn't she? Her reaction had been confusing, and before she'd known what was happening, she'd let him go, and he'd pulled away from her. And she'd felt… disappointed.

She tried to come up with an explanation that would satisfy her internal inquisitor. Whenever she felt like she was getting close to one, she would look at Tony, asleep beside her, and it would fall apart. But… she couldn't be…

Why not? Don't tell me you're repulsed by him.

Good Lord, no. She was anything but repulsed by him. A new vision came to her, and she bit down hard on her lip to drive it away. She had to be cursed with an active imagination, didn't she?

But even if she did (dare she say it?) find Tony attractive and want to pursue something with him, what good did it do her? He was still Tony. He played the field; she didn't, and never would. She could accept nothing less than a committed, mutual relationship. Tony couldn't give her that, and she had enough life experience to know that it was pointless to try and change a man. Besides, if she tried to change him, he wouldn't be Tony anymore. He wouldn't be the guy who made her laugh with his antics at the office, who commiserated with her whenever Gibbs was being particularly obsessive, who teased her but looked out for and guided her at the same time, who joined her in teasing but looking out for and guiding McGee.

So it was pointless then. No matter what she felt, she could never let Tony know. She didn't want to endanger their friendship. It was too important.

It made her sad, and she lay there, looking at him in the ever-brightening light. In the security of his unconsciousness, she drank him in, memorized the angles of his sleeping face, reveled in the minimal contact between their bodies. This moment was all she could have. She was determined to make the most of it.

Eventually, his hair began to sing a siren song to her. It was one of her minor obsessions; she loved the feel of hair, and loved to have her hair touched as well. She knew it was a silly primate grooming thing, some racial memory from back before humans had language, but that didn't stop her from enjoying it. His hair had been wet when she'd touched it yesterday, but now it was dry and wonderfully messy, and looked so soft, so inviting. It was just begging her to put her fingers in it, and her fingers itched with the need to comply. She pressed her lips together. Could she get away with it? It was an intimate gesture, but could be platonic, whereas waking him up with a kiss was definitely not. But no. She should resist.

Oh, come on, Kate. You're never going to get the chance again. Why not take it?

That little voice kept getting her in deeper and deeper trouble with its damned impulsiveness. Unfortunately, it was right. She never would get the chance again. So, why not?

Slowly and carefully, she moved, propping her head up on her elbow. Then she reached out with her other hand. Lightly at first, she skimmed her fingers over his hair, barely touching the ends. He didn't react. Gradually, she went deeper. She sighed. It was just as soft and wonderful as it looked. It was really disappointing that she'd never be able to do this again.

Her movements were slow and light, but she knew they eventually had to register with his unconscious mind, and she watched him wake up. After a good long while, his eyes cracked open, and he looked at her, obviously still mostly asleep. She smiled down at him, withdrawing her hand to rest between them on the bed. "Morning, lazy," she said.

His mouth twitched into a pseudo-smile. With uncharacteristically clumsy motions he reached up and touched her cheek with his index finger. The smile widened into existence, and he slowly blinked. The one finger became his whole hand, and then he moved. Only a little, they were quite close together, but it was motion, and she heard the mattress springs compress slightly, heard the sound of his T-shirt move against the cotton sheets, the feathers in his pillow sigh air in as he raised his head, closed his eyes, and kissed her mouth, softly, gently, familiarly…

His eyes remained closed as he lay back down, blindly gathering her hand from where it sat between them and clasping it to his chest. His eyes remained closed, so he didn't see the look of shock she knew was plastered on her face.

He'd kissed her. He'd kissed her. The first thing he'd done upon waking, upon finding himself in bed with her, was touch his lips to hers. And it hadn't been just any kind of kiss, either. It had been light, affectionate, unsustained. It had been simply 'good morning.'

Friends didn't kiss each other like that. Especially when one friend had just woken the other one up. Friends said good morning, and maybe teased each other a little. Friends then moved back, giving each other personal space that maybe they didn't have during the night. Friends didn't then take the other's hand and hold it so close she could feel his heartbeat.

She stared down at him, almost frightened to move. She was dreaming. That was the only explanation. Like the other dreams last night. She was still asleep; she had to be. Well, there was a way to check that. She curled the hand that supported her head into a fist, catching a handful of hair between her fingers, and started to pull. She didn't stop pulling until she was sure that, had she been asleep, the pain would have woken her by now. She wasn't sleeping. She was awake. It wasn't a dream. He really had…

But… did that mean that the rest of it wasn't a dream either? Tony carrying her down to bed, kissing her on the forehead, were those real? And if they were–

If they were, then maybe…

As she watched, his expression changed. Under his eyelids, his eyes moved right, then left. His brow furrowed slightly. Then his mouth opened, just a little. And she knew that he was realizing what he'd done, what he'd given away. Any second now, he was going to open his eyes and stare at her with horror and apology. Any second now, unless…

His lips were soft and yielding under hers, and his hair tickled her fingers, and she gripped the hand that held hers tightly. Three gestures, three ways of physically grounding him, and when he pulled back, her hold tightened, and she kept his head from moving too much, and he was only able to break contact for a moment before she reestablished it. She kissed him, once, twice, three times, as lightly as he had kissed her. She didn't mind that he didn't seem able to reciprocate. When she pulled back, shifting her arm under her body so she could be comfortable, his eyes were open, staring at her. She smiled at him, settling her head back into the pillow, their faces no more than three inches apart, and kept her eyes on his.

She could almost watch the order of his thoughts; his face was open in a way it rarely was. Shock gave way to realization, then back to shock. What, it was so inconceivable that she might take matters into her own hands? From there, he seemed to move into some form of despair, then resolution, then slowly climbed to tentative hope. He wavered there for a moment; she wasn't sure why. Maybe now was the time to speak? She took a breath.

It was enough of a gesture that he seemed to come to a decision. His expression crystallized, and before she could say anything, he had stretched forward, capturing her mouth again in an as-gentle, less-unconscious kiss.

She responded, and her heart began to beat faster, because this time, the action was mutual. This time, they were actually kissing each other. Neither of them were passive participants. But it stayed light, exploratory, questioning. Tony seemed to have no objections to leaving it that way either. She wondered idly how often he'd kissed women like this; it had been a while, given the tentative undertones. Of course, it had been a while for her as well.

But the memory of yesterday still haunted her, and as pleasant and wonderful as this was, she wanted more. She pressed forward a little, trying to deepen the kiss. Tony pulled back slightly. "Kate," he whispered against her lips. She didn't open her eyes; she didn't need to. She heard the need in his voice. She pressed forward again, this time sliding her whole body closer to him. But she only managed to keep her lips on his for a brief second. Then his hand came to her cheek, and he held her head in place as he pulled away. "Kate," he whispered again. This time she opened her eyes and looked at him. "Please," he whispered.

She could see that his self-control was hanging by a thread, that he wanted to give in. But the desperation she saw as well, that was unexpected. There was something he wanted her to understand, something beyond the fact that, yes, she wasn't alone in her need. He wanted her to hold back.

She contemplated it for a brief second, that unspoken request. And if he'd asked half a minute before, she probably would have acquiesced. But men weren't the only ones that were slaves to their bodies at times, and she had just let her physical needs take over. Her heart pounded, and her breathing was deeper, and her hands wanted to touch him, and she just needed to feel him against her. So even as her mind was attempting to regain control, her body reached out and drew him in again.

As her lips met his, she felt his control snap. It was almost electric. He made a noise in his throat, some primal utterance that interacted with her body like a shot of ice water in her veins. Then his arms were tight around her, and everything she wanted came to pass. She rolled onto her back, pulling him with her until his torso pressed down solidly on hers, and she was able to wrap her arms around him. He drew one of his hands out from under her and then it was in her hair, his fingertips almost cold against her scalp. She shuddered; Lord, it felt good.

When she shivered, he lifted his head away and looked down at her with heated eyes. She raised her head, trying to recapture his lips. He pulled back and she missed, so she tried again. This time, he smiled as he pulled away. Tease, she thought. Fine. She had access to his neck, and he couldn't pull that away far enough. He tried to evade the first kiss, but the moment she made contact, he relaxed, easing back to her and letting her do what she would. He jerked when she nipped at him, but his eyes burned down at her, and then he kissed her again. And again. And again…

She didn't know exactly what she heard, or what he heard, but just as she had reached down, slipped her hands under his shirt, and ran them up his back, something made her pause, senses that were filled with his presence extending past the distraction. He froze as well, suddenly tensing. They lay there, listening, staring into each other's eyes. Then Kate heard a strange thump, and the sound of something sliding along carpet.

"Shit," Tony whispered. "Nieces."

He moved off of her, and by instinct alone, Kate moved as well. In bare seconds, she found herself spooned in the bed with Tony, which… didn't exactly help. He pulled her tight into him, and she could feel everything. Absolutely everything. She bit hard on her bottom lip, resisting the urge to move against him. Not now. Not with two very young girls about to storm the room. She knew her face was heated and her breathing and heart rates were elevated, and that both she and Tony looked like they'd just been doing what they'd just been doing. And she knew that if Rebecca or Mario were accompanying their daughters, they wouldn't be fooled for an instant. But she hoped that the two girls were young enough that they wouldn't think anything was wrong.

She closed her eyes and tried to pretend to be asleep. The girls were giggling and whispering now, though the closed door muffled the sound. Tony tensed slightly against her as the doorknob turned, and then there was a change in the way the room sounded as the door opened. The giggles were much clearer. "See?" one of them whispered. "Told you he's still asleep."

"What about Aunt Kate?" asked the other. Kate was very glad she and Tony were facing away from the door. Despite everything, she couldn't help but smile. Aunt Kate indeed…

"She's asleep too. Come on."

Kate heard them take supposedly stealthy steps across the carpet, and she readied herself for whatever frontal assault they had planned. They were giggling almost non-stop, fairly close, when suddenly, without moving at all, Tony said, "What do you two think you're doing?"

The two girls burst into high-pitched squeals of laughter and ran from the room. Kate winced at the sound. Still, the purpose was served. The girls were gone, and without having seen much of them beyond Tony's back.

She wanted to look at him, but when she tried to shift, his arms tightened around her, holding her in place. His head came forward and rested on her back, and he sighed deeply. Kate's brow furrowed. What was going on? Tentatively, she put one of her hands on his. He captured it and threaded his fingers through hers, holding on tightly. Her heart began to pound again, but for a different reason. "Tony?" she asked, not quite able to keep tension out of her voice.

In response, he kissed what he could reach, her shoulder, neck, ear. "It's okay, Kate," he whispered. "We need to talk, but it's okay."

She was only slightly reassured by his words. He was acting in such an unexpected manner. She didn't know how to react. He let her go then, starting to rise from the bed, and she rolled onto her back, intent on at least looking at him. His expression was serene, and he smiled down at her before lowering his head to hers and kissing her deeply. Then he got up and left the room. She heard the door to the bathroom close.

She lay there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to get a handle on her emotions. She was… And he was… What had just… And did it mean…

What the hell?

She heard the shower in the bathroom start, and she sat up, hugging her legs to her chest. What had Tony meant, they needed to talk? Well, yes, they did, but he had just left the room, and was now taking a shower (an ice cold one, she was willing to bet). He'd just left her hanging here like this? She was certain of her own reaction. It had perhaps been a split second decision, but she was committed to it now. Was he? Maybe that was it. Maybe he wasn't. But then she remembered the look on his face before he'd left, and the way he'd kissed her. No, whatever else, he was. He'd told her it was okay. He wouldn't lie to her. Not about this.

But then…

She heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and before she could do much more than gather the quilt around her, Rebecca appeared in the doorway. Smiling, she said, "I did warn you last night…" She trailed off, and her head tipped to the side. "What's wrong, Kate?"

Of course Rebecca could read it off of her. Mutely, Kate shook her head. Rebecca came into the room and sat down on the bed, pulling her legs up on it and crossing them. "You can tell me," she said with evident concern, reaching out and putting her hand on Kate's arm. "What's happened with Tony?"

It reminded her of sitting in her room when she was a teenager, hashing out the minute details of her latest crush with Damien. But she was grown up now, and Rebecca wasn't Damien. She needed to tell someone. "Would it surprise you to know that Tony and I aren't dating?" she said.

Rebecca blinked, and sat back a little. "Yes," she said. "It would."

"Then it might not surprise you to know that something happened this morning that wasn't exactly platonic."

Rebecca smiled. "No, it doesn't," she said gently. "Start at the beginning, Kate."

She did, from asking Tony out for dinner on Friday to her realizations of the morning and what had happened when Tony had woken, leaving out many of the minute details. Rebecca listened intently. Finally, Kate reached the end, and sat there, chewing on her bottom lip. "I don't know, Rebecca," she said finally. "This is so unlike him."

Rebecca leaned forward and took Kate's hands, unraveling her arms from around her legs. "It might be unlike him now," she said, "but it wasn't unlike him then. When Tony commits, he commits. When he plays, you know it, but when he takes something seriously, you know it too. Have you seen it at work?" That was a thought. She had seen Tony go from joker one minute to serious homicide cop the next. She nodded. Rebecca squeezed her fingers. "You're obviously that important to him, Kate," she said. "Don't worry."

"No, don't."

They both looked up to see Tony in the doorway. He was still dressed in his T-shirt and boxers, but his hair was wet. He leaned on the doorframe. Immediately, Kate felt embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Tony," she said. "I just–"

He cut her off, shaking his head. "I didn't handle it very well this morning, Kate. It's all right. I was thinking we should tell these two anyway." His eyes shifted to Rebecca. "Give us a few minutes, will you?" he said.

"Sure," she answered. She got up off the bed. "Breakfast is ready when you're done."

She touched Tony's arm on her way out the door, and then she was gone. Kate listened to her steps up the stairs, watching Tony. He was looking at her, almost the same serene expression on his face as before he'd left the room. When they heard Rebecca traverse the floor above them, he moved. He came into the room and over to the bed, sitting down in the place Rebecca had vacated. He took one of her hands from where they'd once again wrapped around her legs, brought it to his mouth and kissed the backs of her fingers, then enveloped it in both of his and rested them on the bedspread.

Kate said the first thing that came into her mind. "You say we need to talk and then you run away."

He winced slightly, but nodded. "I did. I'm sorry. On the other hand, if I hadn't, we wouldn't be talking right now." His serenity burned away a little with a wicked grin. "You're way too damned hot, Kate."

She blushed, but resolutely kept looking at him. "And that would have been a bad thing?"

"Normally? No. But these aren't normal circumstances, are they?"

Good Lord, when he got serious… "All right, DiNozzo. Say what you want to say."

"No interruptions?"

"Done."

"Okay." He looked down for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then raised his head. "I'm five years out of practice at this, Kate, and five years in practice at having flings. I'm also still a little hung up on Annette. It's starting to get better, but it's only been about half a day since I decided to let go of her. I like pushing people's boundaries. I'm not the easiest person to be around. And we work together. And Gibbs'll do us some damage if he finds out. And I really, really don't want to hurt you, Kate." He squeezed her hands, but his eyes never left hers. "So if you want out right now, just say the word, and that'll be it. I won't say anything else. But if you're up for it, so am I." He stopped, and after a moment in which all she could do was stare at him, he shifted a little uncomfortably. "That sounded better in my head. Umm…"

"Let me get this straight," she interrupted. "You're giving me a bunch of reasons to dump you before we're even dating?"

He blinked at her. "Wow," he said. "It sounded a lot better in my head."

"How did it sound in there?"

He shrugged and gave her a lopsided grin. "Mature. Self-sacrificing. Honest. You know, the kind of guy you'd want to date."

She couldn't resist rolling her eyes a little. "I've dated those types before, Tony. Do you see me with any of them now?"

"Well, no, but–"

"I want to be with you, Tony." She paused. The words sent all kinds of feelings and reactions coursing through her. She took a breath. "I want to be with you," she repeated.

By the look on his face, her words had the same kind of effect on him. But there was a hint of uncertainty. "You do?"

"I can see you're going to need constant reassurance." She smiled to take the bite out of the words.

She needn't have. He laughed and leaned forward. "Oh, yes, Kate, constant reassurance. Why don't you start now?"

He was close. She drew her one hand out from between his and put both on his face. His skin was cool under the one he'd held, warm against the one he hadn't. Touching him, she looked into his eyes. "I might just," she told him.

She swallowed any reply he might have given. Her lips on his, she marveled that she was going to be allowed to do this all she wanted. He was going to let her. More than let her, encourage her, just like he was doing now, with his hands pressing on her legs to stretch them out in front of her, then moving up to her waist, drawing her forward as though she didn't weigh a thing, holding her close to him, putting more pressure on her lips…

He broke away, his hold on her tightening, and he whispered, "Wait, wait," over and over into her hair. It took her a while to realize he wasn't speaking to her, but to himself. He quieted eventually, but still held her. Finally he sighed. "You have to stop doing that, Kate," he said.

"Doing what?"

"Undoing all the good that cold shower did me."

She pulled back to look him the eye. "Good?" she asked.

He smiled at her, and kissed her lightly. "Good," he said. "I want to take this slow, Kate. I have to take this slow."

"How slow?" she asked.

He laughed a little. "A lot slower than either of us will want to."

She frowned. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

He shrugged, and her hands on his shoulders felt the upheaval. "Fast is what I'm used to, Kate. I don't want to do that to you. Everything about this has to be different. And it's going to be really hard." He leaned forward until his forehead rested on hers. Her eyes closed. "It's not too late," he said quietly. "One word, and we can go back to the way things were. I promise."

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I swear to God, if you ask me that one more time, I'm going to have to hurt you." She pulled back, eyes opening, and found him looking at her, the uncertainty back on his face. "I'm in, Tony, okay? Yeah, it'll be hard. I'm not the easiest person to get along with either. You think you've got issues? They're nothing compared to some of mine. Relationships are hard. Anyone who doesn't think so is naïve. So stop giving me a parachute. I don't need it. I don't want it. If you keep asking me, I might think that you do. Do you?"

His kiss was answer enough to that question, and this time she was the one that pulled back before they could get too deep. "Slow, remember?"

"I forgot."

"Then perhaps I should remove the temptation."

His arms tightened around her, and his amusement showed on his face. "Do you think so?"

"I have my reasons."

"Such as?"

"Such as your sister-in-law will be wondering where we are."

"She knows."

"How about seeing you here all freshly washed makes me feel all grubby and undone?"

"You're beautiful, Kate."

She couldn't help but laugh, even as the compliment made her skin tingle. "I just woke up, Tony. I haven't looked in a mirror yet today, but I know what I look like first thing in the morning."

"You're beautiful," he repeated seriously.

She looked into his eyes for a long moment. The air grew heavy. Finally, she said, "I'm also hungry."

Reluctantly at first, his grip loosened, but then he broke out into a patented DiNozzo grin. "Why didn't you say so in the first place?" he asked. He slid his hands down to hers, and before she could really prepare herself, he was cheerfully helping her up from the bed. "Hygiene is one thing, but food is definitely another."

Kate laughed. "I should have known to go for the stomach first."

"It's a weak point, you know that. Now, off you go. I need to get dressed."

"Well, in that case…" She sat back down on the edge of the bed.

"Ha ha, Kate. Seriously…" He waved her in the direction of the door.

She couldn't believe it. This was delicious. "Shy, DiNozzo? My my…"

"Nooo," he said in a falsely peevish tone. He grabbed her hands and pulled her up again. She leaned forward into him, and his arms came around her. He looked down into her face. "I'm thinking of poor you, wanting breakfast." He lowered his head a little and whispered, "I promise, Kate, you'll see everything someday."

She stood on her toes to get closer to him. "Newsflash, Tony," she whispered back. "I already have."

He leaned down and planted a kiss just forward of her ear. "Not in this kind of detail," he murmured.

Before she could stop it, her imagination was off again, and she let it do what it would for a while, until Tony stepped back and let her go. She looked at him, visually tracing the lines of his torso underneath his shirt. "Promise?" she asked.

"Only if you do."

"Oh, yeah, Tony. I promise that one, all right. In triplicate."

Fire flared up in his eyes, and she saw him bite down hard on his lip. When he'd pulled himself back under control, he spoke. "I promise. Now go, Kate, before I do something I really, really want to."

She really wanted him to do it too, but she left anyway. The door to the bathroom closed behind her, and she looked into the mirror. All she could see was her eyes. They were wide, with shock and lust and emotion and attraction running through them. She tried to look at herself, but couldn't.

She was seeing Tony.

She got into the shower somehow, and the water began to beat down on her. She made it colder than she otherwise might have, and it seemed to help a little. Quickly, she washed her hair and her body and shut it off. She wrapped herself in a large guest towel and climbed out. When she turned once more to the mirror, which was only slightly tinged with condensation, she was able to focus on her entire face.

But she was seeing Tony.

By God, it was a thing. A definite thing. A crazy, unexpected, wild thing. A potentially wonderful thing.

In the mirror, she saw herself smile. She looked happy. She guessed that she actually was.