Kate POV

I let him cry, let his tears pour over my bare shoulder and slip down my bare body. I cried with him, we cried tears of fear, helplessness, and regret. Regret seemed to be pulsing form him, it was in every breath that he gasped in.

Finally, he stopped, and withdrew from me. He looked at me, his hands on my shoulders, his blue eyes even brighter because of his tears, and his face crumpled with pain.

"Katie," he began, but I put my finger to his mouth, making him stop and he automatically did.

I shook my head at him, "It's not your fault, Gibbs, I know you would never do that to me if you had the choice. It was the drug. I understand."

He shook his head, "It's not OK, I should've been able to stop myself, if I loved you enough, then maybe . . . maybe I could've told myself to stop. Maybe I'm just not worth your time, Kate, and you should find someone else."

I looked at him, shocked. Was he serious? Did he honestly think that we weren't made for each other now? That broke my heart to pieces, how could he say that?

"How could you even think that," I whispered, stepping closer to him, "I love you, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and nothing you do can ever change that."

I brought my lips to his and felt him stiffen at first, than relax into my embrace. Slowly, hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer in.

After a few seconds, he pulled apart and looked around the room. The old Gibbs was back, and he was taking action.

I smiled inwardly as I took in his profile, chest bare, and muscles rippling with anger, each one defined.

"Why did they bring us to a hotel room?" He asked, not turning to look at me, he handed me a towel to wrap around myself.

I shook my head, I had no idea, "Why not just let us stay in that pathetic shed? It's a lot more risky here now that we're in civilization."

He nodded, "And harder to guard," he added.

I nodded back and heard a crackle of electricity and stiffened as an all too familiar voice sounded over the hidden speakers.

"Yes, it is harder, but this time we know that you will not get away."

I felt my breath catch in my throat at that voice. It was the voice of the man that had the audacity to imprison federal agents and drug them as well.

"You bastard, if you had any guts, you'll come in here and fight us; but no, you have to hide behind your men. We can and will get out again," I told him, my voice dangerously low.

I heard silence on the other end and then the sound of a phone being hung up.

I looked at Gibbs, mouthing the words, "Cameras and mics."

He nodded and we began scouring the room for hidden cameras. I found two lipstick cameras on top of the bed's heard board and quickly removed them. I found a microphone clipped to the pillows and got rid of that one as well.

After we were sure that everything was disabled, we sat on the bed, facing away from each other; stuck in our own thoughts and worlds.

"Does your gun shot wound still hurt?" He asked, his back facing me.

I looked down at my bare thigh and saw that the wound was only slightly red and raw, and it only stung.

"No, it's healing up," I told him, feeling an uncomfortable silence settle over us.

Finally, I felt movement on the other side of the bed and then felt his hands on my shoulders, and his warm breath tickling my ear.

"What I did was wrong, Katie," he began, pausing for a second, and then continuing, "But one day, I'll make it up to you and I'll make love to you like you've never felt before. I promise."

He pressed a kiss to my neck and I smiled, turning my head, I kissed his cheek.

"We need to find clothes, then a way out," I whispered in his ear and felt him nod against my neck.

We both got off the bed and went to the closet. I found a white shirt and jeans and slipped them on. Miraculously, they fit perfectly.

I heard his towel drop with a thump and he pulled on boxers and a pair of identical jeans and t-shirt.

I looked around the room, and spotted a phone that was probably bugged. I then looked towards the curtains and pulled them apart to reveal a lush green forest basking in the moon's bright glow.

"Gibbs," I whispered, "where are we?"

This looked nothing like Arizona, the state that we had been in just a few short hours ago . . . or was it days?

He came up next to me and his brows narrowed, "Where the hell did these bastards take us?"

I shook my head, just as confused. How did they transport us without us waking?

Suddenly, the door burst open and in walked a man clad in black, his gun clutched tightly in his beefy hand and his eyes narrowed.

"He wants to see you."

He didn't wait for a response and began dragging both of us out the door. We let him. We had to know where we were and what our surroundings looked like.

I looked at Gibbs who gave me a small nod and I began my observation. It was indeed a hotel room, the numbers on the doors painted a bright gold, and the carpet soft underneath our bare feet. Everything seemed perfectly ordinary.

He stopped at the Presidential suite and slid out his room key and opened the door and pushed us in.

Waiting for us was him. He had on a fresh suite, light blue shirt, dark navy blue tie and matching dress pants. He had his hair slicked back and looked like he had just gotten out of the shower.

"Hope you're enjoying your stay here," he drawled, looking between the two of us and smiling, "I know he did. I saw the whole thing, you have a very nice body."

He turned to me and came forward, smiling brightly and warmly, as if he were greeting old friends.

"You're a sick bastard for doing that to us," I told him, practically spitting in his face.

He laughed and turned back around.

I looked at Gibbs to see that he was assessing the man's every movement, his eyes narrowed and his teeth clenched. It was taking almost everything he had not to respond to what he said.

"Well, you must be wondering where you are," he began again, sitting at a desk and propping his feet up, "You're actually very close to home, we're in Washington DC, well, just on the outskirts of the city, as you may have guessed."

Suddenly, he got up and strutted towards us and pressed his face just inches away from Gibbs's face.

"How does it feel to be so close to home and yet so helpless, Special Agent Gibbs," he asked, his voice harsh.

Gibbs simply shrugged, "You're dancing on a fine line, the cities surrounded with agents, and my team's already looking for us. They're going to find us now that we're so close."

He simply laughed, "How? You don't have GPS tracking systems on you anymore, I dislocated them a while back, and you can't even take a step without me not knowing. Plus, to get out of this hotel, you would have to have a room key, so how could you possibly get in touch with your team?"

He laughed again, this time doubling over in laughter. He looked sick, giggling like a child. There was something very wrong with him, I thought.

Gibbs gave him an easy smile and said softly, darkly, almost, "We're going to get out in a matter of seconds."

He stopped laughing and looked at him incredously, "How? You have no gun!"

"5," Gibbs began, his voice soft.

I looked at him, confused, what was he planning?

"4," he continued, catching my eye and nodding slightly towards the mahogany desk.

"3," Gibbs looked at him, and I saw the color drawn from our captor's eyes. He was getting scared.

"2."

I tensed my muscles, ready to leap at the desk.

"1."

I launched myself into the air and at the desk, landing on top of it and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gibbs leap at the man and catch him in a choke hold, putting a mouth over his hand, his arm began crushing his windpipe.

I didn't waste any time, any minute now the guards would be leaping through the door and taking us away.

I pulled open drawers and found both of our cell phones, to my surprise, fully charged. I flipped through the draw to find black files he got on us and tucked those underneath my arm. I opened the second drawer and found the GPS chips in a small box. I hurriedly stuffed them into both the phones.

I tossed Gibbs his and he stuffed it into his pocket. To my surprise, the man was already unconscious. I found two of the hotel cards and a bottle of water stowed in the last drawer and took it with us.

Suddenly, I heard a deafening crack that made my ears pound with adrenaline. I turned to see three men with AK-47's rushing at us.

Gibbs leapt from his crouched position and kicked the gun out of the first man's hands and it flew to the floor. He quickly delivered a quick blow to his head, promptly knocking him out.

I attacked the first man, just as he opened fire. I dodged and rolled away and my leg snaked out to kick him in the back of the knee, sending him down.

The gun went flying and I grabbed it. I slammed the but of the gun at his head and fell onto the carpet, a gash in his head.

"We have to move," Gibbs growled, grabbing the folders that I had found, he tucked them into his shirt.

We sprinted out the door, and towards the elevator. We heard yelling behind us as we reached the elevator and I frantically began pressing the call button.

I heard them gaining and felt adrenaline spike into me again. Once the doors were open we were inside the elevator in less than seconds. I hurriedly closed the doors just as the men reached us and pressed the lobby floor.

I looked at Gibbs as the elevator made its decent and he gave me a reassuring smile and gave my hand a squeeze.

"We'll be OK," he told me softly.

I nodded, and we both heard a loud thump on top of the elevator and looked up in alarm just as the lights went out.