Hello,
May and June turned out to be absolutely crazy months, and in the midst of everything I was hit with the worst writers block in the world, so this chapter took a lot longer than expected.
Enjoy.
August
As a kid, Tony had envied those who loved summer.
While others his age were enjoying family vacations in the tropics, bike rides along the waterfront or long evenings at the amusement park, Tony was stuffed into an uncomfortable tuxedo and subjected to extravagant house parties that seemed to go on for weeks at a time, each one more over-the-top than the last. At face value, that might not sound horrendous - there were certainly those who enjoyed those types of gatherings - but he had always hated the performativity of it all. He couldn't stand watching his parents get dressed up in their finery to make superficial small talk with neighbors that they trashed behind closed doors, clinging to each other as if they weren't spending every night having screaming matches that ended with them sleeping in separate rooms. He detested being paraded around in front of strangers that he couldn't care less about, plastering on a fake smile when being nudged towards distant relatives, important business associates or even the occasional political figure. Most of his childhood, excluding the precious movie theater trips shared with his mother, was spent wishing he could be literally anywhere else.
Summer only served as a reminder of his overwhelming loneliness. Unlike his classmates, he had no siblings, and there weren't many kids his age living around his neighborhood, so when he did manage to escape from the clutches of his parents' social gatherings, all of his remaining time was spent alone. He spent hours roaming the halls of his family's Long Island townhouse, conjuring up solo adventures, coming up with elaborate plot lines and charismatic imaginary characters that would keep him company. In these fantasies he could be anything, like his world was a movie - he was an explorer, a superhero, a spy, everything he'd seen on the silver screen and more. But at the end of the day, when he was hiding in a distant guest room with a stack of vinyls and his worn action figures, the music and chatter of household festivities echoing through the halls, it just wasn't enough to dissolve that innate feeling of being alone.
College was a slight improvement: he and his frat brothers spent countless nights in dingey clubs and back-alley bars, drinking until they could barely remember their own names, waking up in strangers beds. Entire weeks would pass, days lost to alcohol and occasionally marijuana, fading into the shadows of his memory like ghosts. Even then though, surrounded by like-minded guys and stunning girls, there was this deep-seated emptiness that he couldn't shake, leaving him feeling like an outsider looking in, trying to feel present in a life that wasn't quite meant for him. Now that his college days are long gone, his brothers moved on and settled down with wives and kids, that feeling has returned tenfold. Being an unmarried, childless thirty-something-year-old is a rather lonely existence, especially when the nature of your job means that you're unable to talk to anyone outside of the workplace about it.
Now though, he has Kate.
Kate's not his family, his frat brother, or even his girlfriend. Yet she's close to him in a way that none of those people have ever been, knows him better than he's ever been known by anyone.
With Kate, Tony thinks he could get to like summer.
Through her, he comes to experience the things that he's never had a chance to before, dismissed as meaningless pastimes that he has no reason to indulge in. She takes him to a wine and paint evening at her local community hall, and the pair of them almost get kicked out for giggling at his pathetic excuse for still-life. They spend their weekends off going on long walks by the river or hiking through Rock Creek Park, basking under the watchful eye of the sun, getting ice cream at the 60s diner on their way back into town. He discovers an ad for a new jazz bar opening just one block from her apartment, and they spend countless evenings holed up in a corner booth with ice-cold glasses of soda, cheering for the musicians and befriending the bar staff, who now know them both by name.
Tony's known Kate now for almost a year, but he's never known her like this. The drawn out days and humid nights transform her into a person he hasn't seen before: she's less uptight at work, deliberately playing into his stupid games or falling into his jokes to keep up their fiery office banter. She laughs more easily, smiles more freely, opens up more readily, and for the first time in his life, Tony finally feels like he understands what it is to have a best friend, someone he can spend every minute of the day with - whether that be bickering at work or sitting in comfortable silence at home - who gets him the way he gets them. The loneliness that has followed him since childhood doesn't threaten to consume him anymore.
Summer is no longer empty mansions and soulless social gatherings. It's Kate's laughter when he pulls pranks in the bullpen, her smile for the digital camera that Abby gifted him on his birthday, the tapping of her feet to the sound of the saxophone, swaying subconsciously to the sound of live music.
It's her sitting in the driver's seat of his car - the one possession that he's never entrusted to anyone else - windows wound down and stereo turned up, all golden brown skin, glittering highlights in sun-bleached hair, sparkling hazel eyes.
It's sneaking glances from behind expensive shades, suppressing a smile at the way she knows the words to every song on the radio, yet manages to sing them impressively out of tune.
It's her smirk when their eyes meet in the rear-view mirror, pulling him in like a moth to a flame, making him involuntarily smile too.
Looking at her these days feels like staring directly into the sun: extraordinarily bright, blindingly beautiful, exceedingly dangerous. But Tony has always been a bit too drawn to the dangerous, especially when concealed within something so objectively gorgeous. And his partner, although he tries his best to ignore it, is certainly that.
Yeah, he thinks he could quite like summer.
—
"I thought he was joking about this," Tony hisses out of the corner of his mouth, trying not to draw the attention of their silver-haired boss as he strides purposefully through the gym.
"Be serious DiNozzo," Kate smirks, "Gibbs doesn't joke."
After their skirmish with the marine corporal last month, Gibbs had apparently decided that his agents were in desperate need of brushing up on their combat skills and was going to take it upon himself to provide them with training. For Kate, this would be a walk in the park - sure she might be a bit rusty, but she's trained for Presidential Protection detail and has a martial arts instructor as an older brother, she knows what she's doing. Tony, on the other hand, is clearly not as at ease in his workout gear, eyes scanning the room frantically as they follow the older man.
"Then why has he been smiling ever since we got here?"
"Probably," she turns, clapping him on the shoulder in sarcastic reassurance, "because he's about to beat your ass."
Tony opens his mouth to retort, but immediately shuts it as Gibbs stops in his tracks, almost causing the pair of them to barrel into him. He turns around, surveying them with a piercing blue gaze, lips quirking up as he watches them jerk back in an attempt to right themselves. Kate doesn't have to be a profiler to tell that he finds this whole situation rather amusing.
"Welcome to close combat training," he announces, gesturing to their surroundings. "Go warm up. You two are grappling today."
Tony and Kate exchange a look.
" You want us to grapple?" Kate repeats. As in rolling on the ground, bodies pressed together, grappling?
"That a problem, Agent Todd?" Gibbs asks.
Yes.
Kate has never had an issue with wrestling men - when she was training for the Secret Service, she'd had to fight against colleagues twice her size, and growing up with three older brothers meant that she'd become pretty good at holding her own against the opposite sex very early on. No, her hesitance comes from something different: it's not that she doesn't want to wrestle a man, it's that she doesn't want to wrestle Tony .
While she's gotten more accustomed to their newfound affinity for physical contact, the last thing she needs during the ongoing confusion over her feelings for Tony is to have his weight pressing her to the ground, her arms and legs wrapped around him, their bodies sweating and panting with exertion. Not when a simple touch makes her even more conflicted, sending her stomach wild with butterflies, setting her body on fire.
But she can't exactly say that, so she plasters on a grin and chooses something a bit more familiar. "Not for me," she shrugs, "Tony, on the other hand…"
"That's cute, Kate," he retorts, offering a sarcastic smile, "Boss, I really don't thi-" but the older man is already gone, leaving them to squabble as he heads towards the boxing ring, where a rather attractive redhead is waiting with a spare set of gloves. The pair of them stare after him for a second, heads tilted in united confusion. In the momentary silence, Kate sneaks a glance at her partner, wondering how the hell she's going to get through this next hour.
Better get this over with.
"Scared of getting your ass kicked by a girl, Agent DiNozzo?" she asks, turning to him with a raised eyebrow.
Tony huffs a humorless laugh, taking a step closer and raising a matching eyebrow in response. This close, she has to crane her neck to meet his eyes, their usual height difference becoming even more apparent. His gaze is dark and borderline predatory, and despite her best attempts to ignore it, she feels her traitorous heart start pounding in her chest. "I'm not the one who should be scared, Agent Todd," he murmurs, voice low and gravelly.
For a moment, they're suspended in time, standing nose to nose, arms folded, the noise of the gym fading into the background. Tony's pupils are so dilated that the green of his irises is barely visible, and Kate barely manages to suppress a full body shudder. He must catch it, because the corner of his mouth quirks into a lopsided smirk, and he leans down into her space, lips barely a breath from her ear.
"20 minutes," he whispers, lingering until she offers a shaky nod of confirmation. Then, he abruptly withdraws, heading towards the punching bags in the corner of the room as if nothing has happened.
Kate lets out a lengthy exhale.
She attempts to reassemble her scattered thoughts, closing her eyes as she settles onto the mats in the middle of the floor, folding her legs into a butterfly position and pressing her knees downwards to deepen the stretch. Stretching has always been a somewhat meditative process for her, starting from way back when she was a competitive skater in middle school, continuing through to adulthood. There's something so relaxing about working her muscles until they melt like toffee, feeling every ounce of tension leave her body until she's completely weightless, allowing her mind to empty until she's able to think through the insistent buzzing that threatens to overwhelm her. It's been louder than ever lately, and while she 100% knows why, she's been desperately ignoring it in hopes that it will simply go away and she won't have to address it.
Needless to say, that technique isn't working.
Keeping her eyes closed, Kate shifts herself into a box split, taking care to not push herself too far as she lowers her hips to the ground, leaning forward to press her forehead against the cool sprung floor. The gym around her is not quiet by any means, but as she takes deep, steady breaths, she finds herself finally able to slip into a blissful, all-consuming silence, like she's managed to escape to the garden amid a crowded house party and is finally able to breathe. In the silence, she's able to string some of the pieces together.
1. In a few short months, Tony has integrated himself seamlessly into her life in a way that no man ever has before.
It's obvious, from the major revisions to her daily routine down to the minute details that one only has to step foot into her apartment to notice: his toothbrush beside hers on the sink, his signature cologne standing next to her favorite perfume, his clothes so tangled amongst hers in the laundry that she finds herself reaching for his sweaters more often than her own. It's obvious in their running shoes lined up neatly in her hallway, their coats hanging side-by-side on the rack, their spare car keys on each other's keychains. It happened so imperceptibly that she barely noticed it, but it's clear now to anyone who walks in that her apartment doesn't just belong to her.
It belongs to them.
2. If anyone were to ask who she's closest to, out of everyone in her life, she wouldn't even hesitate before saying him.
There is not a single person on Earth who is able to make her laugh as much as she does when she's with him, who's able to bring out the childish, fun-loving side that she's always felt the need to suppress in order to be taken seriously. When she's down, there is no-one else she wants cheering her up, and when she's up, he's the only person she wants along for the high. They can talk about pretty much anything and still never run out of things to discuss, whether that be serious chats about their current caseloads or heated mock debates over the hottest Disney characters. Sometimes, they don't need to speak at all, content simply sitting in silence while she sketches and he reads think-pieces about his favorite movies. It's funny, because once upon a time, she wouldn't have been able to get rid of him fast enough, the mere sight of him a source of her irritation.
Now, however, she can't bear the thought of losing him.
3. She is undeniably, inarguably, wholeheartedly attracted to him.
No matter how much she tries to ignore or cover it up, she can no longer lie to herself about the fact that she finds Tony DiNozzo ridiculously hot, and it's becoming more and more of a problem in their increasingly close, evermore tactile relationship. She's sure that Tony has to feel her thundering pulse as he leans into her on the couch, the heat of her blush when he hooks his chin over her shoulder while she washes dishes, the goosebumps on her skin if his fingers graze the small of her back. There's no way that he doesn't see her shiver when he whispers in her ear or moves in slightly too close when they're bickering. If he hasn't, it won't be long until he does, because she's getting worse and worse at hiding it, and perhaps part of her really doesn't want to.
Perhaps that part of her wants him to know, just to see what he would do.
What she has yet to address though, is whether her attraction to him is purely physical, or symptomatic of something else entirely; something that could be a whole lot more problematic.
Kate's not sure that she's ready to face up to that one yet.
Letting out a sigh, she raises her head, eyes seeking wandering in the direction of the man who has her head spinning. When she finally finds him, she finds him already watching her, and has to swallow a gasp.
Tony is frozen in place, arms hanging limp by his sides, hands still clad in his training gloves. His jaw is slack and his eyes are wide, glued to the spot where her hips lay flat on the floor.
Oh?
After a moment, Tony seems to catch himself, his eyes slowly roaming up her body towards her face. The instant their gazes meet, he flinches comically, clearly not expecting her to catch him staring, but doesn't look away, refusing to let her best him. Instead, he raises an eyebrow, a questioning, slightly teasing expression playing on his features.
Impressive, Kate.
The room suddenly feels 50 degrees hotter.
Never one to back down from a challenge, Kate offers him a knowing, deadly smirk, much like the one she gives before she decimates him in an argument, rolling her eyes for dramatic emphasis. Really, DiNozzo?
He gulps, recognising his forthcoming demise, and swiftly turns away.
Oh, it is so on.
September
August melts into September, the long days starting to draw into earlier evenings.
Yet while summer begins to make way for the fall, things for Tony remain the same. He still lives in Kate's apartment, though he unconsciously stopped calling it that weeks ago, his status as a somewhat permanent resident making it seem like a misnomer. He's not sure when 'Kate's place' became 'home,' but somewhere along the way it seems to have happened, and now he can't find it within himself to revert back.
It's strange, this state of domesticity that they've fallen into. He often wonders if he's fallen into some sort of coma, his whole life taking on a dream-like quality. Sometimes, he can't help but sit back and simply observe, making note of the tiny details that make everything seem a bit more real, Kate a bit more human. Like how she always digs the mushrooms out of her food before she eats, leaving them on the side of his plate, how she stands on her tiptoes to reach the fresh towels on the top shelf of the linen closet, how she scrunches her nose in concentration when she paints her nails. It's these miniscule habits, rather than the bigger changes, that remind him that this is his reality now, that it has been for a while.
In a way, it reminds him of the life he always envisioned for himself and Wendy, back when he was a lot younger, still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, the whole world at his feet. However, it's also nothing like that at all.
It's better.
With Wendy, there was always this pressure to be more. She was older than him by a few years and more experienced in pretty much every arena, so he'd always felt a crushing need to grow up, prove that he was worthy, to constantly impress her for fear that she'd view him as inadequate and leave. But while he certainly wants to impress Kate, to show her that he can be mature and sensitive and the opposite of everything that she perceives him to be, it never feels like an obligation. Rather, it comes naturally, like simply being around her brings those qualities out of him, forcing him not to be so quick-witted and performative, to stop and think, mull things over before he speaks, voice opinions that he wouldn't usually consider.
Of course he's still childish and silly at times, but while she may roll her eyes or offer him a smartass comment, she never forces him to dial his adolescent side down. If anything, Tony likes to think that his presence allows her to express hers, something that he senses that she doesn't get to do very often. It's why their dynamic works, the balance they provide for each other, and it's something that he doesn't think he's ever had.
It shouldn't be a surprise then, the way he misses her the second she's not around.
Tony is far from clingy. He detests clingy people - a byproduct of growing up spending so much time alone - and would never have considered himself one up until this point, ending countless relationships over experiencing it from previous partners. So why now, when Kate exits the room, does he feel the overwhelming urge to follow her? When Gibbs splits them up in an investigation, why does he find an unfamiliar disappointment creeping into his chest? When he lies alone in the guestroom at night, why does he listen out so intently, waiting for a knock on the door that never comes? This isn't him, isn't how he usually acts, but apparently it is now, because there's nothing he can do to stop this feeling.
He spends every minute of every day with Kate, knows so much about her, yet even that doesn't feel like enough.
And perhaps that should be scary, send him running for the hills, but surprisingly it doesn't.
It only makes him want more.
—
You have 1 new message!
From: Caleb Todd
Hey Katiebug. So sorry, but we're gonna have to miss LDW this year - huge case absolutely kicking my ass. Promise I'll make it up to you. Love you, C.
Kate sighs forlornly, letting her head thump against the passenger's side window. Beside her, Tony is drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, window wound down as they wait at the order screen of the drive-thru. Something about the noise must express her disappointment, because he turns to her, eyes soft with concern. "What's up?" He asks, fingers stilling.
"Oh, it's nothing," she replies, opening a blank text and starting to tap out a reply ( That's ok, hope everything works out. Love you ). "Just my brother canceling on Labor Day."
"You guys had plans?"
"Yeah," she shuts off her phone, sliding it back into the pocket at her belt, "I usually drive up to his place in New York and spend the long weekend with him and his girlfriend." She huffs out a laugh, "I don't get to see them much - he's a lawyer, she's a senator's aid - they're the busiest people I know. Now I probably won't until Christmas."
Tony opens his mouth to speak, but is promptly interrupted by a tinny voice coming through the order screen. Kate waits as he orders their drinks and two breakfast muffins to go, thanks the employee and pulls the car forward.
"What will you do instead?" He asks.
"Ohhh I don't know, probably have a weekend in, maybe drive to the beach. Something lowkey," though the thought doesn't fill her with the slightest hint of excitement, and from the way Tony's brow furrows, it's clear that he can tell. "What about you?"
"One of my old cop buddies has a boat that he sails from Baltimore down to Virginia Beach every year," he replies, moving a little closer to the car in front, bringing them next in line for the window. "I join if I can, and since Gibbs has given us this year off…" he trails off, seemingly mulling something over in his head. "Hey, why don't you come with me?"
"What?" she asks, not entirely sure she's heard him correctly.
"Come with me," Tony repeats, "there's a group of us going, you should join."
"I don't know Tony…" she starts, before her partner holds up a finger, pausing their conversation as they pull up to the window. Kate offers a routine eye-roll as he makes a barely veiled flirtatious comment that gets the young woman working the counter giggling, but holds out her arms automatically to accept their precious cargo as he hands it over. With a wink, Tony pays, they both call out a thank you, and then they're off.
"Oh come on Kate, it'll be fun!" Tony continues after a moment, as if never interrupted, "Relaxing on a boat, drinking beer under the sunset, eating the best seafood on the east coast, what's not to love?"
Kate can't lie to herself, it does sound like a good idea - certainly a better option than her current one. She's always loved being by the coast, breathing in the salt air, watching the sunset on the horizon, and doing it all with Tony is guaranteed to be a laugh. However, it would also be an undoubtedly risky one: there's her ridiculous physical crush on him, for one, but also, surely they need some sort of separation? They already spend every minute of every day together, both in the apartment and at the office, and they've become basically inseparable because of it. Meeting people from each other's personal lives though, that's a line they haven't crossed. They've come close, a couple of times, but it's always felt like a step into something off limits.
Neither of them say it, but spending the whole weekend with Tony's friends is an invitation into the unknown, the crossing of an invisible boundary.
"Wouldn't it be weird?" she asks cautiously, "you bringing a coworker with you?"
"Not at all," Tony replies, barely missing a beat, "one of my buddies, Brett, he's been bringing his coworker with him for years," he smirks as if he's just said something particularly funny.
Kate hesitates, and as he glances over, he must see her apprehension, because he shoots her a reassuring half-smile that immediately settles some of her unease. "Kate," he murmurs, voice warm and comforting with just a hint of the insecurity that she's still getting used to hearing, "I'd really like it if you came."
And there it is again, that unsettling feeling in her stomach, the fluttering of a thousand tiny wings. In their presence, any remaining doubts are rendered inconsequential - what could possibly be more important than spending time with Tony, making him happy?
Damn you DiNozzo. Since when can I not say no to you?
"Fine," she says, "I'll come with you."
—
Dappled sunlight dances across Kate's face, gentle breaths escaping her as she sleeps soundly against the passenger's side window.
From his position behind the wheel of her car, Tony sneaks a glance at his partner in the rearview mirror. Contrary to her straight-laced workplace persona, Kate's never been a morning person, frequently strolling into the office 10 minutes after the others have already arrived. This morning was no exception to this pattern, with Tony having to usher her into the car with promises of coffee and a long nap ahead. He can't bring himself to be annoyed though, not when she looks so peaceful curled up in the passenger's seat, slender figure engulfed in one of his old Ohio State t-shirts which must be at least three sizes too big for her. There's something about seeing her in such a vulnerable state, looking so tiny all wrapped up in his clothes, that makes him unable to take his eyes off of her. It's a similar sensation to the one he felt the night she was kidnapped - this inexplicable urge to shield her from the world, to wrap her in his arms and never let go - but it's different, no longer raging with anger or urgency.
It's softer, yet deeper. Less frantic, but more intense. Unbelievably overwhelming, begging him to look closer.
He doesn't, of course. Instead, he turns his eyes to the road, attempting to focus his increasingly jumbled thoughts on the days ahead.
They're driving to the marina at Annapolis, where they're set to join Tony's friends, who are already docked and waiting. From there, they will spend the next three days sailing the length of Chesapeake Bay, arriving in Virginia Beach just in time for the festivities tomorrow evening, before doing the whole thing in reverse to be back in the office on Tuesday. It's a jam-packed, exhausting trip, but Tony always looks forward to it, even if he spends the following three days being reprimanded by Gibbs for dozing on the job, nursing a chronic hangover while trying to recollect the events of their voyage. He's never been one for tradition, but this is one that he's particularly fond of.
What's different this time, of course, is that he's bringing company - something that's never happened before. It's not that Tony hasn't had girlfriends around this time of year before, but bringing someone along has just never felt right. The very idea of bringing along one of his previous flings had been a cause of dread - too complicated, too unpredictable, too real with all its implications. Introducing a potential girlfriend to his friends? Absolutely nausea-inducing.
For whatever reason though, bringing Kate with him doesn't bring forth that same apprehension. Now, the emotion that has his stomach churning is not anxiety, but excitement: he wants Kate to meet his friends. He wants her, one of the closest, most important people in his life, to meet others that have been equally as influential, to understand how he has been shaped by them, to see how amazing they are and appreciate them as much as he does. They already spend so much time together, but rather than feeling overwhelmed or wanting to push her away, he craves to integrate her further into his life, to prove to both her and himself that their friendship is just as important, that it's an entity able to exist far outside of the backdrop of work.
More than that, as the extremely incessant voice in the back of his head keeps reminding him, he wants them to meet her . Perhaps it's self-centered, a little over-indulgent, but he wants his friends to see the pair of them together and think how the hell did DiNozzo meet a woman like that? They've known him for so long, yet they haven't known him like this: every day, he feels himself becoming a better agent, a better person , and it's all down to the time he's spending with Kate. Around her, he feels himself transforming into the man he'd always hoped he would be. Sure, he's still far from perfect, and nowhere near where he now envisions himself, but he's a far cry from the person he was last year. Hell, even last month.
Who wouldn't want to celebrate that?
It's all because of her, whether she knows it or not; her banter, her advice, her intelligence. Her mere presence seems to bring out the best in him and he needs them to see it, to revere her the way he does. Because to him, as much as he messes around, making adolescent jabs and playing practical jokes at her expense, she's one of the most incredible people in the world, and he doesn't understand why she would even make time for someone like him.
But as she stirs, pulling her knees into her chest and curling up like a sleeping kitten in the passenger's seat, he's so selfishly grateful that she does.
—
As per her usual interactions with Tony, things get off to a frosty start.
On paper, everything goes to plan: they make it to Annapolis in good time, find their group with no issue. While Kate had been a little nervous to meet Tony's old cop friends, her worries turn out to be completely unfounded, because they are genuinely some of the nicest, most laid-back people she's ever encountered. Cal, the guy who owns the boat, welcomes them with open arms, clapping Tony on the back before pulling her into a bone-crushing hug that rivals even those of Abby, instantly putting her at ease and setting the tone for her introduction to the rest of the group, who all greet her similarly.
She doesn't really know what she expected from them, but whatever preconceptions she did have of Tony's friends are swiftly proven wrong. There's Sammie - a bleach-blonde, impressively ripped woman who has the personality of a golden retriever but looks like she could crush your windpipe with one arm. Then there's Brett - an obscenely tall surfer-looking dude who looks like he should be running a lifeguard station rather than a major urban drug task force, and finally, Erin - a tiny redhead who Kate instantly takes a liking to when she makes a wisecrack about no longer being the only female investigator in the group, linking her arm through hers and ushering her onto the boat. Together, along with her and Tony, they make up a strong six - the perfect number to fit comfortably on the vessel, which she's told was refurbished by Cal, Brett and Tony as a weekend passion project when they worked in the force together.
The issue that becomes clear pretty quickly, and is thus the cause of Kate's mild irritation, is this: they are evidently the only non-couple present on this annual excursion - the very thing that she was afraid of. It doesn't take a genius to spot the engagement ring on Sammie's finger, or how her and Cal seem unable to keep their hands off of each other. Though Brett and Erin's bickering rivals that of her and Tony's, their hands glint with matching gold bands, and while she appears deceptively unbothered by him, he is undeniably besotted with her, gray eyes following her every move.
To their credit, the others don't seem overly bothered by this fact - not obviously at least. However, she feels Erin's piercing green gaze as she grabs Tony's arm and pulls him off to the side, scrutinizing their dynamic, assessing what they are to each other while also refusing to ask. She wonders what Tony told them when he said he was bringing her along, how she was described to them - a coworker, a friend? Or neither of those things? Taking great care to keep her expression pleasant, she leans in close, lowering her voice so as not to draw any more attention.
"Tony!" she hisses, nails digging lightly into his skin, "I thought you said Brett and Erin were coworkers."
"They are coworkers!" he exclaims, plastering on an innocent expression that she knows better than to believe, "they're just coworkers who also happen to be… well, married."
Her face must show her discomfort, because Tony runs a soothing palm over her shoulder, offering an apologetic smile. "Kate, I'm sorry for not telling you the truth, okay?" He murmurs, fingers toying with the sleeve of her shirt, which she's only just realizing is actually his, "I just…," he sighs, averting his eyes in a telltale sign of guilt, "I just really wanted you to come, I guess."
Kate glares, but her iron-clad grip on him relaxes. A symptom of them spending so much time together is that she's gotten a lot worse at staying mad at him, and this occasion is a prime example of that. She's still a little irritated that he didn't tell her, but she can't say that she wouldn't do the same thing if she were in his position.
"Next time," she says, giving him a light shove on the shoulder, "you tell me what I'm walking into."
The tension drains from Tony's shoulders, a hesitant smile creeping across his face. "So you have a chance to say no?"
"So I have a chance to plan the best way to humiliate you," she confirms.
His laughter is warm as a summer's day.
—
Okay, so Tony might have lied.
Well, not exactly lied; more like told a half truth.
But still, as he watches Kate sitting cross-legged on the deck with Brett and Sammie, laughing over a somewhat convoluted version of Go Fish in nothing but a navy one-piece swimsuit and a pair of tiny denim shorts, he can't bring himself to feel bad. In fact, it might've been one of the best decisions he's ever made.
"She's a keeper, Tonio," a clap on his shoulder jolts him back into the present, to the spatula clutched in his right hand, the mouthwatering scent of grilled meat, and Cal stood at his side, a triumphant grin on his face, ice cold beer bottle in his outstretched hand.
"Not like that Cal," Tony replies, snatching the bottle and cracking it open on the edge of the grill, "we're just friends."
The other man laughs, startlingly white teeth glinting in the sunlight, "You really expect me to buy that?"
"I don't need you to buy it," he says, staring resolutely at the burger patty sizzling right under his nose. "It's the truth."
"But you wish it wasn't, right?"
The spatula clatters out of his grip, landing on the grill with a metallic crash. Tony curses loudly, snatching it up with a hiss as the hot metal comes into contact with his fingers. He glances incredulously at his friend, who merely winks and takes a long swig of his beer. With his flawless dark skin, immaculately groomed facial hair and chiseled washboard abs, Cal looks like he should be a Sports Illustrated model rather than a Chief Detective Inspector, but hey, Tony's always been able to pass as a dirtbag undercover rather convincingly, so he's hardly one to talk. "What d'you mean by that?"
"You've barely taken your eyes off of her since you got here," his friend states, as if it's as undeniable as the sky being blue, "and I haven't heard you talk about anyone in months - don't give me that look, you know I'm right," he chuckles as Tony raises a questioning eyebrow, "so forgive me if I don't believe you."
"It's never gonna happen," he says, turning back to the grill and flipping the burger over with a flick of the wrist.
"And why's that?"
"Because…" Tony trails off, mouth suddenly incapable of forming words. Because she's my best friend. Because I don't feel that way about her. For some reason, he can't bring himself to say either of those options aloud. "Because it can't. You know what Gibbs is like with all his rules, he'd skin me alive and hide my body in his basement."
"When have the rules ever stopped you from going after something you want?" Cal laughs, "The DiNozzo I worked with would've told me that 'rules were made to be broken.'"
"Things change," he mutters under his breath, before letting out an exasperated sigh. He should've known that there'd be no getting around this discussion when he said that he was bringing Kate with him. He was foolish to hope otherwise: Cal isn't one of the best detectives he knows for no reason, he's always been way too good at getting the answers that people don't want to give. He's stubborn, unwilling to lose sight of the details even when confronted with the most convincing distraction, even in front of a masterful liar such as himself. "Even if we did like each other like that, she deserves better than someone like me, Cal," he whispers, finally voicing the thought that has been bugging him for weeks now, "it's never going to happen."
For one excruciating minute, they stand in front of the grill in silence, watching the burger as it grills to perfection and then starts to burn. Tony can't bring himself to care, too lost in his own head. Somewhere in the background, he can still hear the rich sound of Kate's laughter as she wins the round of cards. Despite his inner turmoil, he can't help but smile.
"Ahhh don't be so hard on yourself Tonio, it'll all work out," Cal rubs his upper back comfortingly before patting him roughly on the shoulder and forcing him to move closer. As Tony leans in, his friend whispers something that sends his head spinning, "Just so you know, she's been looking at you too."
Tony can only stare incredulously as he walks away, inhaling the acrid smell of charcoaled meat.
—
That evening, they end up at a waterfront bar near Point Lookout.
It doesn't look like much, with its peeling blue paint and slightly grimy windows, but it's packed full of patrons - devoted locals and faithful travelers who know that it's the place to be over the long weekend. When they arrive, there's a live band playing outside on the deck, instruments illuminated by the glow of thousands of tiny string fairy lights, country covers of classic pop-hits creating a jubilant atmosphere as waitresses mill about with trays of beer and mixed seafood skewers.
They sit by the river under the setting sun, Brett sharing a lobster dish with Erin, Sammie and Cal passing a cigarette back and forth, smoke dissipating in the dusky skies. Tony has his arm thrown comfortingly over her shoulder, the warmth of his body bleeding into hers as she tucks herself into his side. As the air continues to cool, goosebumps begin forming on her arms, and she can't help but shiver, trying to bury into him further. Tony takes note of this, shrugging his leather jacket off of his shoulders and offering it to her, barely even pausing the conversation he's having with Brett as he helps her slide it on. Kate nuzzles her nose in the collar, inhaling the scent - a combination of his signature sandalwood, the lavender body wash she keeps in her bathroom, and something that is distinctly him . As she nestles back into position, she catches Erin observing them from across the table, green eyes trained on where Tony's fingers play with the ends of her hair. She immediately clears her throat, averting her gaze.
The darkness creeps in, the band begins to pack up and the kitchen slowly stops serving, but the bar continues to grow livelier, drinks flowing more and more freely. The refills seem to become increasingly frequent, and as they do, Kate can feel her body becoming heavier under the weight of the alcohol. She can't help but rest her head against Tony's shoulder, letting him hold her up as a pleasant fuzziness consumes her, eyelids fluttering shut as he grows bolder, allowing his fingers to start massaging any remaining tension from her shoulders. If she feels anyone watching them, she's far too comfortable to care.
At some point amongst all of this, a member of bar staff announces that the karaoke machine is now available, and Cal lets out a loud whoop, grabbing Sammie with one hand and Tony with another, trying to drag them inside. Tony, of course, drags Kate along too, and Sammie uses her free arm to grab Erin, effectively forcing the entire group to go with them.
Karaoke is a disaster, as is to be expected from a group of highly intoxicated thirty-something-year-olds. The boys set the bar high with their rendition of 'Wannabe' by the Spice Girls, complete with an elaborately choreographed dance routine that has clearly been rehearsed several times and has the crowd going wild. Kate, Erin and Sammie follow it up with a much less coordinated performance of 'Baby One More Time' that leaves the three of them half-collapsed in giggles, with Sammie then staying on and roping Cal in for a Mariah Carey ballad which is way too high-pitched and leaves a lot to be imagined in terms of vocal quality.
When Tony grabs her by the hand and drags her back up to the mic, she doesn't protest. Instead, they torture the crowd with a disastrous version of 'Man! I Feel Like a Woman' that goes down a storm - a testament to the blood alcohol level of the room. Tony is way too drunk to read the lyrics, and Kate is equally too hysterical to sing them, too busy laughing at him as he squints at the screen like an old man. They end up getting a standing ovation, with their friends screaming for an encore, but Kate's legs are too wobbly and she finds herself so drunk on the joy of the moment that she's barely able to stand. Tears of elation in her eyes, she allows Tony to wrap a steadying arm around her waist, pulling her into a theatrical bow that only serves to make her laugh harder. As they rise, he doesn't let go, pulling her in and planting a kiss on her cheek that sends the bar into uproar.
Her heart feels so full, it could burst right out of her chest.
The others descend on them, laughing and cheering, pulling them into a tangled mess of limbs that's supposed to be a group hug. The crowd continues shouting for more, but Kate shakes her head, gesturing towards the bar and miming a drinking motion. Recognizing her need for rest, Tony leans to whisper something in Sammie's ear, and then the two of them are grabbing microphones and jumping into another song.
Kate stumbles her way through the crowd, pushing through the throng of sweaty bodies towards the bar. She climbs onto a creaky old barstool and orders a tall glass of water, which the bartender hands over without comment. She's just reaching for her purse when the chair beside her pulls out and a body sidles in next her.
"I got it," a familiar voice says, and when she turns, Erin is at her side, already handing over the money for her drink. Any other time, she'd probably put up a fuss, but right now, Kate can't bring herself to care.
"Thanks," she smiles at the other woman, internally relieved when she smiles back. While Erin has been nothing but nice to her since she's gotten here, there's something weirdly unsettling about her, something she can't quite put her finger on. The way she's been so unapologetically observing her and Tony since they joined the group has been making her feel self-conscious, overexposed. She gets the sense that the redhead is a master at seeing things that people don't want to admit, that they perhaps want to hide even from themselves.
"Us girls gotta look out for each other," Erin grins, raising her glass before taking a drawn out sip.
Kate takes her time, allowing each ice cube to melt on her tongue. The two women sit in a comfortable, yet heavy silence, a day's-worth of unasked questions lingering between them. Once her glass is empty, Kate places it down on the bar with a thump, but Erin rolls hers between her hands, finally raising her eyes to her in unflinching curiosity.
"So," she begins casually, "how long have you guys been together?"
There it is.
Kate huffs an incredulous laugh. "Who, me and Tony?" she asks, though she already knows the answer. "Oh, no, we're not together."
Erin raises an unconvinced eyebrow, scanning her face, clearly looking for any signs of deception. Kate stares back, unwavering, until eventually the other woman speaks. "You're serious?"
She nods.
"Hmmm," the redhead hums contemplatively, clearly thrown by this revelation. "Could've fooled me," she notes, "Why the hell not?"
The question of the century.
Why not?
There are so many things that she could say. We would get fired. Truth. We've both been seeing other people. Lie, as far as she's aware of.
We don't like each other like that. Yet to be determined, but becoming increasingly clear.
"We would drive each other crazy," she settles for, but it sounds weak even to her.
Erin nods softly, but doesn't say a word. They sit there for a moment, backs against the bar, watching the rest of the group as they perform a hideous rendition of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. Tony and Sammie are going back and forth, him screeching in a painfully high-pitched voice while she attempts to reach the lower register without much success. Around them, Brett and Cal dance like maniacs, going up to random bar-goers and hyping them up, encouraging them to join the performance. Kate can't help the laugh she lets out as Brett spins an elderly lady under his arm, and one glance at Erin shows that she's smiling too, sharp eyes uncharacteristically soft with adoration. It's fascinating, because it's probably the first time she's seen her look at Brett like she's in love with him - while Kate has seen Brett being very outgoing with his affection for his wife, Erin has been much more withdrawn, to the point where any outsider might wonder whether she loves him at all.
"How long have you guys been married?" she asks, watching the redhead closely.
"About a year," she smiles, fiddling with the band on her ring finger unconsciously. Kate waits for her to elaborate, but she doesn't. Instead, Erin hesitates, glances at her out of the corner of her eye for a second, then continues. "You know, I couldn't stand Brett when I first met him?"
"You're kidding?"
"I'm dead serious," she chuckles, turning back to the scene before them. "Thought he was the most arrogant son-of-a-bitch I'd ever met. My first day in the office, he called me the 'Berkley Babe'. I could've castrated him."
"That sounds familiar," Kate mutters, recalling an old plane, a new team, an annoyingly attractive male agent calling her ' Secret Service Chick '.
"I think he asked me on a date three times a week for two years before I said yes - we fought like cat and dog every single day," she offers a far-off, reminiscent smile. "Used to drive me insane. It still does," Erin laughs wryly.
"Sooo… what changed?"
"We got put on this major case together, a drug network tied to a bunch of interconnected homicides. It lasted months - lots of overnights in the office, stakeouts, working weekends - you know the ones," Kate nods empathetically. "Somewhere during that period, we grew close. We started opening up to each other properly for the first time in years, and I started to realize how much we actually had in common - it was like I was finally getting to know who he really was, and we just got each other, you know?"
Kate thinks of countless late nights in the office, endless early mornings at the gym or on their runs. She thinks of box-set binges on the couch after long days, of park hikes followed by ice cream and milkshakes, of the objectively horrendous home-painted art pieces that now sit on her mantelpiece. She thinks of Tony's birthday, his quiet tone the first time he'd really opened up to her, of every occasion since that they've confided in each other, the vulnerable moments, the shared secrets.
Of course she knows: she's been living it for almost four months.
"After a while, he became my best friend, and from there… well, the rest is history I guess," Erin smiles, and Kate offers a weak one in response, but her mind is reeling, a million thoughts racing at a hundred miles-an-hour. "It's not always been easy, but I wouldn't change a second of it. He's an idiot, but he's my favorite person in the world."
Brett hollers at the pair of them from across the room, and Erin smiles at him, setting her empty glass down on the bar. Tony and Sammie finish to raucous applause and take an obnoxious bow, the two of them panting heavily from exertion, grinning from ear to ear.
As they rise, Tony catches her eye, the full force of his blinding smile hitting her like a semi-truck. She takes in the sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, the atrocious pattern of his Hawaiian shirt, the ratty shorts that he refuses to throw out because they're vintage, Kate .
For the first time, she finally acknowledges what she has so far refused to accept.
She, Caitlin Marie Todd, is ridiculously infatuated with this idiotic, adolescent, undeniably incredible man.
Embarrassingly so.
And there's nothing she can do about it.
With this realization, the dam that she's been constructing for the past four months, the past year , finally breaks. Everything that she's been holding back, compartmentalizing, refusing to address or examine too closely crashes into her like a tidal wave. It's all-consuming, this wave, these feelings. It's like nothing she's ever felt before. This is her partner, her best friend, Tony. What the hell is she supposed to do? What does it mean for her - her friendship, her job ? It's too much, too soon, and Kate has no idea where she goes from here.
"Just so you know," a voice says gently, a reassuring hand on her arm easing her out of her spiraling thoughts, "he's never bought a woman on one of these trips before. He must think very highly of you."
With that, Erin stands up, adjusts her dress, and walks away, leaving her alone with the staggering weight of her own thoughts.
—
Much later on, when everybody else has gone to bed, Tony and Kate stare down at the double berth they've been allocated in an uncertain silence.
Tony breaks first. "I'll take the couch," he offers, shouldering his rucksack nervously.
Kate can't do much but provide a mute nod in response, still adjusting to this new weight on her shoulders, this mess of newfound feelings.
However, as he turns towards the door, she's taken back to another time, months ago. A night just like this one, with him, his soft eyes and gentle voice, his selflessness as he leaves her to sleep alone. It seems like a lifetime ago now, when they were oceans away from each other, barely even friends.
Things are different now.
So maybe it's because her thoughts are already so scrambled, or maybe it's just because she's still tipsy, but as he goes to leave the room, her hand shoots out and catches his, stopping him in his tracks, causing him to turn back to her with a question in his eyes.
"Tony," she whispers, her voice deafening in the quiet.
"Yeah?" he asks, so softly, so gently, she thinks her heart might melt.
She swallows. Considers backing out. Takes a breath.
"Stay with me."
Silence. Green eyes on hazel. Her heart thundering in her chest.
"Okay," he whispers back.
And that's all she ever wants to hear.
So when Tony stretches his arm across the mattress, Kate doesn't resist, doesn't make up an excuse. Instead, she allows herself to be pulled in, his chest a welcome pillow, arms all the protection she needs. When he rests his chin on top of her head, she finally relaxes into his unwavering warmth, letting her breathing sync with the rise and fall of his chest.
As she tightens her arm around his waist, she knows there are a lot of questions that need to be answered, a lot of uncertainties she needs to solve.
But for now, they'll have to wait, as the steady beat of his heart lulls her to sleep.
The remainder of this fic will cover the events of NCIS Season 2.
Thank you for reading. X