Title: Thank You
Author: Redwing (I'm baaaaack)
Rating: PG-13 for one small swear word.
Summary: G/K of course. A year after Kate's death Gibbs finally begins to heal after a visit from someone familiar.
Notes: Well, this was a long time coming, eh? I do plan on writing more where Kate is actually alive and the end of Twilight didn't happen. Please to leave reviews for an author who hasn't written in a while, it will inspire more.
The theme of the ending should seem familiar to some who watched a show that recently went off the air. I'll ID said show at the end of the fic.
Jethro Gibbs stretched slowly in his bed and sighed. He turned and looked at the clock, bright green numbers told him it was only 3 am. Something had awakened him from a deep sleep; it wasn't his phone, which was sitting silent next to the clock, the usual culprit for getting him out of bed at such an ungodly hour. His instincts were telling him something wasn't right. Suddenly he got the strong sense of someone being in the room with him, and it was more than instinct: he could actually smell whoever it was; it was a vaguely familiar scent.
Quickly he rolled over and grabbed the 9 mil off his nightstand. A voice called out to him from the dark.
"That's not going to help you, Gibbs."
And Gibbs did something he had never done, not once in his life - he froze.
Because that smell that was vaguely familiar was paired with a voice so familiar his stomach dropped.
"Kate?" He called out, unsure.
"Expecting someone else?" Her discorporate voice taunted.
He flipped the light on and was stunned to see Kate Todd leaning against his armoire, staring at him with a slight smile.
"Oh my god, what did Tony put in my coffee?"
Her smile widened. "Couldn't tell you."
"You," he pointed at her. "Are not here."
She feigned distress and looked down at her jeans and sweater-clad body. "Pretty sure I am."
"This is the weirdest dream I've ever had. Hands down." He muttered and stood up, moving past her into the bathroom.
Gibbs leaned over the sink and ran cold water over his face. It couldn't be her; she was long dead, a year ago tomorrow…well, today now. He harbored guilt over that still, unable to let go of his failure to protect her, even when she was doing the protecting. After her death his moods had swung quickly and without warning. He would be in a fine mood one second, but in the next yelling at someone for the most mundane error.
Looking up in the mirror he was relieved not to see her. His mind was playing tricks on him on the anniversary of her death and he was not pleased. He gripped the side of the counter and looked down into the sink, watching the rest of the water swirl down the drain.
Her life had ended so quickly he didn't have time then to accept it. So instead he spent the last year grieving for a woman he might have come to love if given the chance. But his failure to realize she was Ari's true target ended anything that might have been. And in turn left his emotions at a dead end, with no resolution available, which fueled his guilt.
He looked up into the mirror; she was still absent, misery apparent on his face and closed his eyes tight.
"I'm so sorry, Kate," he whispered.
"No apologies. Remember?"
He snapped his eyes open and there she was in the mirror, leaning against the doorframe. Looking as real and solid as that day on Air Force One.
"You died." He spun around, anger taking over. "I killed you!"
She didn't seemed affected by his outburst; instead a strange look crossed her serene features. "No, you didn't."
Now he approached her, almost trembling. "As much as if I held that gun."
She reached up and when her warm hand touched his face he recoiled physically. This was…unreal. She couldn't be here, yet she was. She had TOUCHED him for God's sake. He could still feel the heat from her hand on his cheek.
"Gibbs, you have to let go. I have."
Despite his brain telling him he was arguing with a dream, he continued because his heart needed to say it. "You have? How? How can you not blame me for this? You were protecting me and it got you killed."
"Ari wasn't in sight, we all thought it was safe. He could have just as easily shot you or Tony. Luck of the draw I suppose." She shrugged. "There isn't anything I can do about it anyway."
His voice got low. "It wasn't 'luck of the draw,' Kate. He was aiming for you. And I should have know, he fucking ASKED about you at the café."
She raised one eyebrow at him. "That's it? He ASKED about me? Did he maybe threaten to shoot me through the forehead with a rifle?"
He didn't respond.
"Yeah, didn't think so. Life is unpredictable; I joined NCIS understanding that nothing is guaranteed, including my life. Chaos Theory, Gibbs."
"Chaos Theory?"
She nodded. "The important part is that in our Chaos Theory I came to NCIS and met you."
He looked down at the carpet. "I wish…I wish we had more time."
She read between the lines pretty easily. "I know. Me too." Kate took a step toward him and this time he didn't back away. "Please…please for me, accept what happened and move on."
"It's hard, Kate…"
"Let go of the guilt. It's not doing you any good. Come on, what happened to that bastard I worked with?"
"Not with you…" And he rarely was toward her. He nodded. "I'll try."
"That's really all I can ask with you, isn't it?" She smiled playfully.
"Yeah."
"Good." A sad look spread across her face. "I have to go."
"Stay."
She seemed distracted a moment. "I can't. I did what I came to do. I got my guy back on track. Time's up." She turned to walk out the door, but paused and turned around. "What the hell. One for the road?"
Before he could contemplate her meaning she strode back toward him. She stopped mere inches in front of him, touched his face lightly and kissed him hard.
He was eagerly returning the kiss, seeming to forget this was a dream and she shouldn't feel so real when she stopped suddenly.
"Good bye, Gibbs…and you're welcome," she said sadly and walked out his bedroom door, closing it behind her.
After a moment's hesitation he called out her name and chased after her, but when he opened the door she was gone. No trace. And there was no way she could have made it all the way to the front door without being seen; he had a clear view to it.
Confused, he turned back; it felt real, and so did she. But this was all a dream, maybe his subconscious trying to tell him to stop feeling guilty. He crawled back into bed, the feel of her lips on his still stinging him and drifted off.
Several hours later he woke up and stretched. That's when the memory of the night before hit him. It had been one hell of a dream, of that he was certain. But the point was taken. He did need to let go, as much as he could anyway.
He sat up on the edge of the bed and scrubbed his face with his hands; he felt exhausted. Sighing, he started to sit up when something shining on his nightstand caught his eye. It wasn't something that was there before, he was sure.
He picked it up and it only took a second for him to realize what it was. Kate's necklace, the cross he was confident she had been buried with. With shaking hands, he flipped over the gold and found her initials etched into the back – confirmation.
Gibbs sat for a long while, staring at the necklace and knowing that last night was no dream. Somehow it was real. She had been here with him. For once he disregarded the implausibility in that, and just accepted it.
He fingered the gold carefully and smiled slightly. "Thank you, Kate."
Fin
Oh, Angel, how I miss you. Ok…so I miss Cordy more, but whatever. Now I can watch you on Bones anyway.