In the Dark By: Ardin
Spoilers: None. Just general knowledge of the show.
Disclaimer: You guys all know how these go...poor college student, don't own any of it, wish I did, yadda, yadda.
A/N: This idea came to me a couple of nights ago when a power outage blacked most of my hometown. One of my neighbors had the same reaction as Kate does and so I wrote it up. Pretty fluffy, but...
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Kate had just sat down with the latest Harry Potter book – her niece had been insistent when the first came out that she read them – a glass of a good red wine, and her favorite radio station when the power in her building went out. She had waited, unmoving, several seconds for it to come back on and when it didn't she began to panic.
It had been years since the last time she had been in a power outage, and even more years since the one that had spurred her intense phobia of them. She had managed to keep her fear to herself largely because she was never put into such positions, but now, at almost midnight, sitting in complete darkness with nothing but the radio reporting the city wide shut down, she felt the panic take over.
She didn't even realize what she was doing when she picked up her car keys and headed out her apartment door. Weeks later she would still be impressed by the fact that she had locked the door behind her. She would also still be glad that she had opted to lounge in pajama bottoms and a tank top, rather than something more revealing, as she left without so much as putting on a jacket.
The drive calmed her significantly; the light from her headlights warding off the unexpected ghosts of her past. She didn't think about where she was driving, nor did she particularly care. It wasn't therefore until she had turned into his driveway and her lights blurred on his garage door, that she realized that her subconscious mind had driven to the one place she KNEW she would be safe. To him. It was also at this point that she realized that he might not be very receptive to a midnight visitor, especially one who had never visited him before.
Again she acted without thought or justification: removing her keys from the ignition, stepping out of the car into the darkness, and going to his front door. There she stood for several seconds, shivering gently. For a mid-spring night, the air around her felt unusually cold, though some very small area at the back of her mind realized that the feeling came more from the panic attack than from the actual temperature. She raised a tentative hand and was surprised by just how loud her subsequent knock sounded.
She heard a lock being opened after just a few seconds and again the analytical part of Kate's mind wondered how he had gotten to it so quickly. The thought was barely registered though as the almost calm from her drive continued to wear off and another wave of panic took its place.
Gibbs opened the front door of his house and as his mind registered the sight of a moderately dressed Kate Todd, he took an involuntary step backward, the door swinging wider as he did so. Kate seemed to take this as an unspoken invitation and entered just far enough for him to shut the door.
His surprise wore off very quickly though as he noticed the extreme fear that seemed to emanate off of her in waves. With the door now completely shut, the only illumination available was a small camp lantern that barely lit the main hallway. Gibbs watched as Kate's eyes darted unseeing into the rooms on either side of them, and as she began to shiver even more than before. He immediately recognized the signs of a panic attack and from her behavior could easily guess what was causing it.
He stepped closer to her, taking care not to block any of the soft light the lantern was giving off. Slowly and with as much care as he could muster, he reached up and laid a hand on her arm. Her eyes snapped instantly to his and he smiled as he watched the panic diminish slightly. Keeping eye contact, he slid his hand down to hers. She glanced down briefly as he pressed his half-full coffee cup into her palm. Returning her eyes to his, she nodded slightly before raising the mug to her lips and drinking the remaining, lukewarm liquid. Her foggy brain took full note of the fact that he continued to keep a hand on her other arm throughout the action.
Taking the now empty mug from her hand, as well as the car keys from the other, he leaned away from her, still maintaining the eye contact. She heard the slight thud and the distinct rattle as he set the items on a table just outside her visual field, but when he moved back his hand was not empty. Instead it held a thick, large sweatshirt that bore the Marine Corp logo, which he pulled gently over her head with a grin.
Her shivering had reduced greatly during the minute or so she had been in the house, but he knew that the distraction would only last for so long and he needed to take advantage of the time he had to get her somewhere less frightening. He moved both hands to her shoulders, again moving slowly so as not to alarm her. He spoke quietly, but with the force of a command.
"Kate, what's your favorite food?"
Her eyes took on a confused glaze for a moment, but she answered all the same, responding more to the tone than the question.
"Italian. I like pasta."
"What kind of pasta?" He asked without allowing a pause. The same quiet commanding tone, but this time as he asked he moved backward slightly pulling her tenderly with him. She followed without thought, moving a half-step down the hall.
"Chicken fettuccine. In an alfredo or basil sauce."
"What's your favorite dessert?" Again the question accompanied by a pull. Again a half-step together down the hall. The questions continued, the answers followed, and they made it quickly to the basement door. Gibbs thanked his lucky stars that he hadn't pulled the door completely shut. Without letting up on the questions or the eye contact, he prodded the door open with his foot and led her onto the small landing. He took the first step down and here his verbalizations changed slightly.
"What's your favorite movie? Step." Again the slight confusion in her eyes, followed by absolute trust and compliance.
"Casablanca." She took the first step, following him and his commands. He had registered a slight slowing of her breathing when they'd stepped onto the landing, as she'd noticed the strong if somewhat irregular lighting coming from below. Taking a few more steps she could see that the entire place was lit by a myriad of sources. Two large camp lanterns dominated opposing corners, a couple smaller ones hung from the frame of the boat and a small fortune worth of candles dotted every available flat surface. They continued down.
"Who's your favorite movie actor? Step."
"Past: Cary Grant. Present: Russell Crowe." He grinned momentarily at the unasked for distinction.
"Who's your favorite TV actor? Step."
"Richard Dean Anderson." He wrinkled his brow in confusion, but continued on unflinching, promising himself to ask at a better time.
"Do you prefer cats or dogs? Last step."
"Dogs."
He continued the questions unabated as he led her over to the boat. Turning them both he pushed her back and down gently, so that she was sitting on the raised platform below. Squatting in front of her, he moved his hands to her knees.
"How do you feel now?"
She was taken aback for a second, surprised by the change of question type and equally shocked by the depth of worry she read in his eyes.
"Better. Thank you. The lights help a lot." She took several slow deep breaths, maintaining eye contact the entire time. Her panic had subsided and she was beginning to feel dangerously comfortable with the current arrangement. I could get used to being the center of his attention. The thought came unbidden and she forced herself to push it back as several others reminded her of the real situation: inappropriate, unprofessional, unreturned. She pushed those back as well, focusing once again on the now. "That was great. How did you know how to do that?"
He blushed very slightly at her praise and found himself wishing for more of it. It momentarily occurred to him that he shouldn't answer, that he should keep it to himself like everything else. Don't be an idiot, he berated himself, this is Katie we're talking about. Answer the damn question.
"My sister used to have panic attacks growing up. Whenever there were thunderstorms. I got really good at distracting her and eventually she learned to distract herself. Even to this day she has to do crosswords or wordsearchs during them. You were easier." He turned his head away, realizing after he'd said the words that they could be taken other ways.
She noticed his discomfort and it took her a moment to realize what it was that he'd said. She ignored the statement as though she had never heard it, and when he stood to relieve now aching knees, she just smiled at him before scooting further into the frame of the boat.
"This is incredible. I mean, I heard all about this boat from Tony and Ducky, but I never imagined something so…" She trailed off, unable to find the word. He smirked as he tried to fill the blank.
"Unfinished? Or messy? Maybe ridiculous was what you were going for?" As he spoke he crawled in with her and sat crosslegged under the main beam.
She stayed silent for several minutes, running a hand over every piece of the wood she could reach before turning and mirroring his position. "I think spectacular was the word I was going for." She grinned at his expression and moved slightly closer to him, try to move out from under the small lantern above her. As she settled herself, she looked at him with concerned eyes. "How long do you think it will be before they get the power back on?"
"I really don't know." He gave her a sympathetic smile before continuing, "But you can stay here till they do. Unfortunately this platform is both the most padded and most spacious area down here so unless you want to move some lanterns up-"
"No, this is fine." She cut him off with a blush. "I like it down here." In a move that both of them found suprising and bold she spun herself around and lay back, using his crossed ankles as a pillow. Smiling up at him, she spoke again. "So, those questions, you just come up with them at the spur of the moment?" He grinned back.
"Yeah, for the most part. Though I did wonder: who's Richard Dean Anderson?"
"Oh, come on, he's the guy that played MacGyver." She almost laughed at the blank look he gave her. "Never mind."
The conversation continued on random topics for the better part of the next hour. Kate slowly fell asleep somewhere in the middle of a recitation of the best woods for building a boat. He smiled lightly as he looked down at her slumbering form. Moving slowly so as not to wake her, he shifted to lay beside her, using the sweatshirt she had earlier discarded as a substitute pillow. Watching her snore gently, he drifted off as well.
It was several hours later and well into the next day when Kate began to wake. Her first thought was that her mattress had gotten much harder during the night than she remembered, but the events of the previous evening quickly came back and she smiled at the fact that she had fallen asleep with Gibbs.
"Good morning, Kate." His voice sounded from her right and she sat up slowly, opening her eyes and taking the still candle lit room in. He stood over her, hands braced on the beams of the boat, still wearing the same t-shirt and jeans of the night before. Smiling brightly at him she scooted out of the confines of the boat and stood, stretching a bit, surprised that the night asleep on what was little more than a wood table hadn't left more aches. It was a few moments before she noticed the grin that had been directed at her since she roused.
She glanced self-consciously down at herself, before glaring back at him. "What?"
"Nothing, I just remember who Richard Dean Anderson is, that's all." His grin widened.
"Oh? Care to share?" She moved closer in on him, hoping to use one of his interrogation techniques against him. She wasn't sure if it had worked or not, but since the move left only a bare few inches between them, she wasn't sure she cared.
His breath caught for a moment as she moved towards him. He wasn't sure why she was doing it, but he suddenly couldn't remember the conversation they'd been having. Closing his eyes for a second he regained the thread. "He's the guy from Stargate SG-1. The leader. My nephew is obsessed with that show." Looking at her as he spoke, he could almost feel the tension in the air increase.
"Yeah, he's the one. Tall and gorgeous, hard to miss." The converstaion had suddenly taken a turn he hadn't expected and her eyes had darkened as she'd caught his gaze while speaking. He was no longer sure who they were talking about.
"Isn't he a bit old for you to be drooling over?" He tried his best to sound casual, but his mind screamed at him even as she moved slightly closer, don't say yes, don't say yes. Say he's not too old.
"Nope." Her voice sounded thick in the small amount of space left between them, and Gibbs suddenly had no doubts about whom they were speaking. He stared at her lips, forcing himself to focus on the words coming out of them rather than on his increasing desire to kiss her senseless. All restraint he had left went out the window at her next words. "Besides the silver hair is really sexy."
He closed the gap between them swiftly, bringing a hand to the back of her neck as his lips descended on hers. The kiss was neither tenative nor passionate, each of them taking the time to truly enjoy the feel of being together. Her hands rested gently on his chest, fingers closed slightly on the fabric of his shirt. One of his hands rested at the side of her neck, while the other moved to the wooden beam beside him for balance. He was sure that the full realization that he was kissing Kate Todd would kick in any moment and knock him flat on his ass. The kiss ended naturally and he pulled back enough to look into her eyes.
"You really like the silver hair?" He asked, his soft tone making up for the smirk that crossed his face.
She nodded with a grin and kissed him lightly on the lips again before moving to snuggle against him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, silently praying that she would never have to leave.
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A/N: I hope you all like. The conversation about RDA is very similar to one that I have actually had, though the real conversation was about dress blues not silver hair. Like it or not let me know what you think.
