Part II

"Jethro!" Gillian calls down the stairs to the basement.

"What?!" comes the irritable reply.

"Someone to see you," she replies gravely, glancing at the female agent sitting, silent and subdued, at the breakfast bar.

"Who?" he demands scratchily.

Gillian takes a breath. "It's Kate," she tells him, loud and clear.

Almost immediately, the wood staircase begins to creak under his weight as he bounds up the steps, two at a time. Gillian wanders away from the threshold and over to the other side of the kitchen, picking up her drink.

"Can I get you--?" she offers, lifting her glass at the other woman.

"No, thank you," Kate whispers, shaking her head: "I'm fine."

Jethro enters hastily, pulling his undershirt out from where it was hanging, tucked into the back of his pants. He glances back and forth between the two women as he slips the shirt over his head and tugs it down over his body.

"Hey," he murmurs, tightly, not quite looking at their visitor as he reaches for the bottle of scotch: "What's going on?"

"Hey," Kate returns, her voice a mere whisper.

Her head is lowered, her hair falling over her bloody face as she breathes deep and heavy. Shakily, she lifts her fists onto the benchtop, her fingers clasped together tightly. Jethro's face changes instantly and he stops in his tracks as he notices the cuts and grazes on her skin.

Kate licks her lips and raises her head slightly, but not fully. He lurches towards her, sudden but careful, his eyes narrowed and his head ducking to examine her face. She draws in a breath as she feels him move closer. Then she sniffs bravely and meets his eyes from behind her dark glasses.

Slowly, Jethro reaches out, his eyes fixed on her face as he lifts the glasses off her eyes, sliding them back over her hair. Her eyes are bloodshot with tears, but she refuses to let them fall in front of him.

Her boss' eyes run over her face, carefully, furiously taking in her injuries. The graze on her cheek is large and swollen and there is a nasty, weeping gash above her left eye that looks quite deep. She drops her gaze, biting her lip and wincing at the cut in the corner. His eyes travel down over her figure, noticing her ripped shirt, spotted with blood, and the bruise already forming on her exposed breastbone.

"Who?" he finally demands hoarsely.

Kate gulps, the tears rising in her throat again: "He…."

"Who, Kate?" he demands again, his tone gentle but resolute: "Give me his name."

"His name's--" she raises her head, looking him in the eye and letting out her breath: "Brian Willis."

Gibbs pulls back, standing upright and staring at her hurt face with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Gillian can see him mentally adding the man's name to his personal most wanted listing.

"He's still in my apartment," Kate continues, making an effort at appearing capable and composed for her boss. She shrugs slightly, dropping her eyes from his incensed, intense expression, and adds: "Possibly unconscious."

Gibbs pulls his cell from his pocket and begins stalking back and forth on the tile: "I'm calling Tony. We--"

"No," Kate speaks up desperately, sitting up in her chair and shaking her head vehemently.

Gibbs stops immediately, cell phone in hand, and turns to meet her pleading eyes. His expression softens discernibly as he watches a few tears topple from her eyelashes to her cheeks.

"I…" she falters, her eyes wet and teary: "I don't want anyone else to know."

"Kate--" Gibbs starts with a heavy sigh.

She interrupts him, putting her hands up in a defensive gesture. "I don't want to press charges," she mutters, her voice more steady: "I just…. I want him out of my place."

Gibbs puts away his cell phone and moves towards her again. He plants his hands on the wooden bench, leaning in and peering closely at her, his face mere inches from hers.

"I can't do that, Kate," he tells her firmly.

"Yes, you can, Gibbs," she murmurs softly, holding his fierce gaze: "I know you can." She searches his eyes for a moment: "Please," she pleads earnestly: "Please, just -- do this for me."

Gibbs heaves unhappily, wagging his head. "At least let Ducky take a look at you," he mumbles quietly, his eyes skating over her rumpled appearance once more.

"I'm fine," she assures him, leaning a little closer. She smiles through her tears at his unconvinced expression. "I promise," she whispers with a little nod.

"I could take a look at her," Gillian offers, from her corner of the kitchen.

Both of them turn towards her with surprise, apparently having forgotten her presence. Two sets of dubious eyes assess her as Kate and Gibbs pull back from one another's personal space. She glances from Kate to her boss then back to Kate again.

"I'm a doctor," she tells her calmly: "But we can keep it unofficial."

Gibbs turns back to Kate, brows lifted, a question in his eyes. Kate wavers -- her dark eyes drop briefly before climbing up to meet his intent gaze. Then she nods cautiously, in answer to his query, as Gillian watches their silent communication from afar.

He straightens again, striding to the basement door and grabbing his jacket from the staircase banister. "Gimme your keys," he mumbles to Kate as he punches his hands into the sleeves and slips it over his shoulders.

Kate reaches out, her hand resting over his for a brief moment as she places her apartment keys in his palm. He stuffs them in his pocket, his eyes never leaving her face.

"I won't be long," he promises, adjusting his collar. He glances over at Gillian: "Take care of her."

"I will," she replies, giving him a dim little smile.

He takes one last look at his young colleague before he heads out of the kitchen, marching down the corridor and slamming the door behind him.

TBC…