When McGee arrived at my apartment, I opened the door wide and gave him a brave smile.
"I'm glad you came," I told him. "I was worried you would forget.
McGee leaned in and kissed my cheek lightly. "Of course I wouldn't forget, Elle," he assured me, hanging his coat up on the rack in the foyer.
I closed the door behind him, still able to feel where his lips had touched my skin. It was a pleasant, almost burn-like sensation, something I'd never felt before.
McGee couldn't help but notice that Elle was wearing a black running skirt and a thin tank-top over a green sports bra. She looked small, but muscular. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. The only makeup she was wearing was a little eyeliner and some blush, but she looked beautiful, despite the gash that was stitched up on the side of her face.
"I thought maybe we could order pizza, so neither of us have to cook," McGee suggested.
"Hmm…okay. I have the number for Domino's on the fridge," I replied. "And, I have a favor to ask. Today, I was alphabetically organizing my movies, and I came across "Oklahoma!" Would you kill me if I said I wanted to watch it?"
McGee grinned boyishly. "Nah, it's fine with me. I've never told anyone, but I kinda like a world where everyone sings and dances. Of course, if I told Tony and Ziva that, they'd think I was gay."
"Well, you're keeping my secret, so I'll keep yours. Oh, and for the record, McGee, I don't think you're gay."
When the pizza came, Elle brought plates, napkins, and two canned drinks into the living room while McGee slid the DVD into the player. The medium Pepperoni pizza was on the coffee table and the smell was filling the small apartment.
After they'd eaten, the film continued to play and McGee could hear Elle quietly singing along with the songs. When the Curly sang about the shiny surrey with the fringe on top, Elle leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed.
"I'm glad you're here, McGee," I whispered, slipping my hand into his and leaning against him.
He leaned his head against the top of mine and I felt my heart skip a beat. Twenty-four hours ago, I'd been afraid of having anyone touch me at all, but now I was the one who was getting closer to McGee. I wasn't scared of him like I was of every other guy I passed on the street.
When Laurey started crying in Curly's arms, I suddenly felt inspired. I knew what I wanted. I wanted McGee to kiss me. To kiss me the way Curly was going to kiss Laurey.
"Well, you just cry your eyes out," Curly told Laurey, holding her in his arms tightly.
McGee thought about earlier when Elle had been so close to him, crying into his collar. It reminded him of the scene in this scene in "Oklahoma!" He looked down at Elle, trying to decide if he wanted to kiss her or not. Elle looked up at him too, her blue eyes full of emotion that he couldn't translate.
"I don't know what to do," I whispered to him.
"Well here, I'll show you," McGee whispered back, leaning close and pressing his lips against mine.
I sighed, letting my eyes close slowly as my arms slid around McGee's neck as he pulled me closer and slid his own arms around my waist.
Before I even realized it, our bodies seemed to have melted together and we were making out like two teenagers. Nothing had ever felt so good before in my life. So sweet and tender. Every kiss was better than the last.
"I believe that's about all a man can take in public," McGee whispered as we both gasped for oxygen.
I laughed a little, somewhat shakily. My heart was pounding in my chest and, because my hand was resting lightly on McGee's chest, I could feel his beating heavily as well.
"You look tired," McGee told me. "You should get some rest."
"Will you stay right here and hold me while I fall asleep?" I asked, looking up at him with my big, blue eyes.
McGee cupped my face in one of his hands. "I wouldn't leave you alone here, Elle."
McGee and I cuddled up the same way we had awakened on the morning I'd stayed at his apartment—spoon-fashioned. There wasn't anything inappropriate about it, but I wanted him close. The idea of doing anything else never crossed my mind. It was as innocent as Laurey and Curly kissing in "Oklahoma!", which was still playing softly in the background. I rested my head on McGee's chest and closed my eyes drowsily. I could feel his heart beating softly against my cheek and, somehow, I knew that everything was going to be all right. Life would go on. And I hoped that McGee would be in that future life to hold me.
The nightmares came soon that night, sooner than I had expected. In the midst of the same dream that I had had over and over, I felt someone shaking me. Suddenly, I opened my eyes and found McGee looking down at me anxiously.
"Elle, are you okay?" he asked.
I shook my head. "It's like this every night—sometimes more than once a night. I can't sleep. During the day, all I can see is that nightmare playing over and over in my head. He may be going to prison, McGee, but Scott Harper will always haunt me. What he did to me will always haunt me."
Elle got up off the sofa and headed to the kitchen to get a drink of water. McGee followed her cautiously, remembering what Gibbs had told him about not making Elle feel like the victim.
"Would you like to tell me about it?" he asked.
Elle filled a glass at the faucet and shrugged. "It doesn't sound so scary when I say it out loud. But when I'm dreaming it, I'm helpless. I can't move or make any noise. I try to yell for help every time, but it doesn't do any good. He still hurts me, every time." She wiped her wet eyes and sank to the floor, exhausted and sobbing.
"I can't stop crying," I told McGee as he sat down beside me. "There can't be any tears left in me to cry."
The NCIS agent put his arm around my shoulders. "It's okay, Elle. You've got to get it all out sometime. And, sooner rather than later, in my opinion."