Gibbs slid onto the stool and ordered a bourbon from the bartender. A waste of a day, he thought. He could have been working on any one of their open cases, but instead he was stuck in Atlanta for a criminal behaviour conference.
Kate would have enjoyed this.
The thought came unbidden, and he took a sip of his drink as if that could wash the pain away.
"Scotch," a man said, taking the seat beside Gibbs. He glanced at the man, and it was a few seconds before he could place him. Horatio Caine, from Miami. Also attending the conference.
Also looking like he had better places to be.
He noticed the flash of gold on Caine's finger, and hid his smile.
(He thought of Kate again, and understood that there would never be enough alcohol to forget.)