Author's note: I know I should be taken out and shot. And not a whole lot of action in this chapter. Bare with me, I as likely to give up writing this story as Gibbs is to buy an electric sander…

Chapter 4 – Hurricane's And Dames – It's All The Same

Kate and Tony were oblivious to the look Warner gave them. Yet they were not so unaware of the feeling of malice seeming to roll off their witness like a cold, wet wind. Kate felt a palpable relief to see that Warner was already walking toward his tow truck to leave.

She was not surprised to hear Tony echo her unspoken discomfort she felt in Warner's presence.

"Wow. Was he channeling Johnny Rocco or what"

"Johnny Rocco"

"Well OK maybe he's not as talkative, but that guy oozes malice just like Rocco."

Kate was totally lost. She couldn't remember anyone from their previous cases with the name Rocco. Though she knew she'd regret the admission, Kate's curiosity got the better of her - as usual.

With a weary sigh, she queried, "OK Tony, I give. Who is Johnny Rocco?"

For a moment, Tony's eyes widened a bit and blinked in unfeigned surprise. But opportunity to pull on Kate's leg was too tempting to pass up. The back of his hand went to his forehead and his head tilted back as if seeking deific intervention.

"Key Largo, Kate. You can't tell me you've never seen Key Largo"

The first blush of early morning light illuminated a less than patient Agent Todd with hands on her hips and chin tilted ever so slightly in determined defiance.

Tony took her lack of response as an admission of guilt. "Kate, come on. Barrymore, Bogey, Bacall? Hurricane's, Dames, Murder and the Mob." Still, he was met with unblinking silence. "Edward G. Robinson? He was Johnny Rocco. He was the mob for every American going to the movies until Brando did the Godfather."

Kate's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh, yeah. Isn't he the guy that said….You dirty rat. You're the one that killed my brother… or something like that"

This time a look of genuine horror crossed Tony's expressive face. "Cagney, Kate. How could you mix up Cagney and Robinson"

She hadn't, but she sure as hell wasn't going to admit that to Tony. He was so easy some times. Why were men so enchanted with movies about the mafia? If she only had a nickel for every time a guy said someone needed to go to the mattresses…

Sensing Kate wasn't going to dignify his question with a response, her talkative partner continued. "Edward G. Robinson, short guy, built like a bulldog with thick lips and droopy eyes." Looking for recognition in Kate's purposely blank face, he continued"Little Ceasar, Double Indemnity" Still, no response. "You really need to get a life Kate."

Suddenly defensive, Kate replied "Getting a life does not involve spending hours like a zombie in front of a television."

Tony simply shrugged off the insult. They both knew that he had a fairly active social life. It was the quality of said life that seemed to provide Tony's coworkers with all the material they need to razz him until the end of time. It was rare indeed when anyone punctured DiNozzo's thick hide. She'd seen Gibb's do it. Even called the senio agent on it once...and then beat a hasty retreat. She'd crossed the line a time or two herself. Watching Tony's self-confident smile fade to wounded surprise never seemed to give her the satisfaction she expected.

Unfazed, Tony simply explained, "My first crush was on Lauren Bacall. When I couldn't sleep I'd sneak downstairs and watch the late, late, late movie. They were all black and white back then - we didn't have HBO 20 odd years ago. The moment I heard Bacall say, If you want anything, just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you Steve? Just put your lips together and blow. That was from To Have and Have Not - Bogie fell in love with her during that movie and I'd be willing to bet that he was over the moon by the time they filmed that scene."

"So basically verbal fencing as mating ritual" At Kate's comment, Tony tilted his head ever so and gave her a wisp of a sly smile. Realizing just one moment too late that they had been verbally fencing and seemed to make quite a habit of said practice, Kate's mouth shut with an almost audible snap. Tony's smile only widened more meaningfully.

Kate wasn't going to let him off easily. Planting her hands defiantly on her hips, the diminutive agent added a bit more sourly than she intended, "If I remember correctly, Bogart was twice her age. It couldn't have taken much for a middle-aged man to fall in love with her. She was a walking mid-life crisis."

They hadn't strayed far from the SUV and Tony slouched casually against the car. "Soooo jaded, Kate? Midlife crisis's don't last for 12 years. I think even at such a tender age as 19…"

Kate was shocked and it was evident in her reply. "She was 19. He had to be at least forty."

"He was more like forty-five." Kate's eyes widened. Tony anticipated her shock and interrupted before she could make the inevitable cradle robber comment. "She was his match in every way I read once. Intellect, strength of will and spirit of adventure." Tony was no longer looking at Kate. His eyes seemed to look inward as he added. "I always thought that their story made all the romantic babble about soul mates seem… well… more... possible."

Kate's mocking smile seemed to soften. "Most people stop believing in fairy tales about the same time they realize Santa Claus is just the frontman for a vast parental conspiracy."

Tony gazed at her in mock horror. "You don't believe in Santa Claus? I bet you don't make wishes on the first star at night either"

Upon seeing Kate's less than agreeable look, he continued, "Bogie and Bacall were constant companions and married for twelve years until Bogie's death. You know I always loved that final scene from Key Largo. Bacall gets a call that Bogie survived being kidnapped by the mobsters, she throws open the windows and is bathed in a beam of morning light. Most guys I know would give quite lot to be greeted with a sight like that."

"Right, leggy blonde with sunlight making her clothes almost transparent. You are so predictable, Tony."

Favoring Kate with a flirty smile, he replied, "Who says that they have to be leggy... or blonde"

Flustered, Kate countered, "Sun's up, Tony. Time to go to work."

Without further comment, Tony crossed over to the opposite side of the road to look for any vehicle tracks worth making into a cast for future reference. Kate started moving in greater increasing circles, bending down occasionally to pick up some bit of promising evidence. After bagging a discarded cigarette, she stood up, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to get warm in the cold, damp morning air. Belatedly she realized the jacket she put on in her half steeping stupor in the wee hours was more fashionable than warm.

So it was with some surprise that Kate felt a weight drop on her shoulders. She opened her mouth to protest, but the residual warmth convinced her that discretion was the better part of valor. Looking up at her partner, she suspected that he was waiting for a negative reaction. He seemed to be concentrating on a patch of bare asphalt like it had directions to the lost continent of Atlantis.

As she slipped her arms into the sleeves and pulled the jacket more tightly around her, the expensive black leather released a tantalizingly masculine aroma of citrus, spice and leather that she'd come to associate with Tony. Kate drew in a deep breath of the scent and contrarily refused to analyze her motives or the odd flutterinq feeling that seemed to settle in her chest.

Tony stole a glance at his often-prickly partner to gauge her reaction to his gesture. He was mildly surprised to see that instead of offending her independent and feminist leaning sensibilities, she had slipped her arms into the sleeves.

The jacket almost reached her knees and Kate kept tugging at the sleeves that covered her hands. She looked like a child playing dress up and Tony couldn't help but find the scowl she favored the offending cuff with as rather endearing. Shaking his head at the thought, Tony mused that he must besuffering sunstroke to find anything about his prickly partner endearing. Except that it was just above freezing and a bleary sun was barely fighting through the damp, gray dawn.

Safer than exploring his feelings in any matter involving Kate, Tony decided the safest and most rewarding avenue for investigation was going to be the tire tracks and footprints at the crime scene. Pouring plaster was definitely preferable to being encased in it – which he was certain would be the result if he ever let on to little Special Agent Scrappy Todd that he had a soft spot where she was concerned.

TBC…