Hello, long time no see. I've been so busy at university, but it's all finished now, so I have a lot more time on my hands. This part has been split in two, because it was getting pretty long. The next chapter should be up soon.
July.
Kate's always known, objectively, that Tony's attractive.
She'd have to be pretty blind not to: with his piercing green eyes, blinding smile, and muscular physique, it's no mystery why so many women are charmed by him. If she had met him in a bar or through a mutual friend rather than on Air Force One, she might've been one of them. However, Kate is also an intelligent, logical and self-respecting woman who has dated enough people to know his type, and to know that falling for the popular, occasionally arrogant jock-type personality is never worth it. So as soon as Tony had opened his mouth, she'd instantly written him off - she was not about to lose another job over a guy, no matter how visually appealing he might be.
For almost a year, she's forced any physical attraction to Tony into a box, stashing it in a tiny corner of her mind in favor of focusing on all the things about him that she can't stand - his juvenile humor, his unsavory eating habits, his horrific track record with women. It's a house of cards that she's put in place to remind herself that no matter how hot her partner may be, there's no way they could ever be anything more than friends, with even that being a stretch.
The issue is that the longer she knows Tony, the more she realizes that the things she hates are part of a character, a mask that he constructs for the outside world, and not a true reflection of the man underneath. Perhaps nobody else notices it when they watch Tony leering at female witnesses, or pulling pranks on junior agents, but as someone who wears her own mask and has done so for years, it's obvious. After six weeks of living with him, the layers of his facade are beginning to peel away, and as they do, they're chipping away at the resolve that she's put up to protect herself. Now, she's being forced to confront the fact that the real Anthony DiNozzo is someone completely new to her, someone she's having to meet all over again. Yes, he's annoying, boyish, and borderline misogynistic at times, but he's also so much more than that, and it's becoming an issue.
Because if Tony isn't who she's made herself believe that he is, where does that leave her?
—
It's on his birthday that she first starts to question it.
They're out at a bar in Georgetown - her and Tony, Abby and McGee, who's taken to following her every command like a loyal puppy. Arranging this outing was no small feat: Tony had been surprisingly difficult to convince to do anything for his birthday. Contrary to his often over-the-top personality, it appears to be the one day of the year that he actually doesn't want attention. From what she's heard, ever since he started at NCIS, Tony's annual celebrations have consisted of sitting in the squad room eating Chinese food until two in the morning before rounding the night off by falling asleep at his desk.
This year, Kate was determined for things to be different - he's done so much for her recently that it only seemed fair. She knows she'll have to pay him back someday, so what better time to start than a whole day celebrating him? So, this morning, much to his shock, she had bucked tradition and woke up early, stumbling bleary-eyed to the kitchen while he still slept, and made pancakes - not their usual, the European-style ones that he'd once mentioned his mom had liked. Kate's no domestic goddess by any definition, so it had taken several failed attempts, multiple different pans, and an embarrassing amount of eggs to make something even relatively edible, but by the time Tony had walked in two hours later, her pancakes were thin, golden and perfectly acceptable. Even if they were a bit crispy around the edges.
The astonishment on his face was worth every burnt pan she now has to replace.
In the end, it was the promise of inaugurating McGee into the drinking habits of a 'real field agent' that had convinced him to come out with them; bless Tim, he could always be counted on to provide some (albeit unwilling) entertainment. But still, Tony's reluctance was confusing to her - why had he been so adamantly against acknowledging his own birthday? He was usually so quick to big himself up - why should today be any different?
"What's going on with you and Tony?"
Kate only just manages not to choke on her margarita, the unprompted question jerking her completely out of her reverie. Abby sits across from her, observing her closely, a completely unreadable expression in her eyes.
"What do you mean?" She asks, trying her best to affect nonchalance, keeping her tone casual.
It's a lost cause, of course. Abby, for all her hyperactive energy and endearingly weird quirks, can read her like an open book, and Kate's been keeping something from her for weeks. Knowing her, she probably noticed her and Tony's odd behavior weeks ago but didn't want to press it in hopes that Kate would come to her when she was ready. Contrary to popular belief, Abby is good with secrets - both keeping them and accepting that others keep them from her. However, she's also filled with an exuberant curiosity that often becomes too overwhelming for her to contain.
Like now, for instance.
"You two have been acting weird for weeks," the goth says, narrowing her eyes at her best friend over the rim of her wine glass. "I've stayed quiet because I wanted you to tell me, but you're killing me, Kate. I can't wait any longer!"
Kate glances over at the bar, where Tony and McGee are engaged in conversation with the bartender, who's obviously only half listening as he pours the tequila shots that Abby insisted they all take but point-blank refused to pay for. McGee looks rather perplexed, clearly not following whatever is being said, but Tony…
Tony's gesturing wildly with his hands, face animated with a broad smile and a gleam in his eye that tells her he's likely talking about a movie. It might just be because she's observing as an outsider, but it feels as though the whole room is drawn to him, hanging onto his every word. He has this energy about him that pulls people in, like moths to a flame. Women especially, batting their eyelashes and giggling to their friends, tucking their hair behind their ears and sucking their stomachs in as they brush past him. As she watches him though, he barely glances in their direction, which in itself is surprising, but she chalks it up to him already being too wasted to care.
As if sensing it, his eyes flick to hers across the crowded room, their gazes locking - green on hazel. He's a considerable distance away, but she sees his smile widen. McGee doesn't know he's getting vodka, it says.
She raises an eyebrow: be nice, DiNozzo.
A wink. I'm always nice, Katie.
"Are you sleeping with him?"
"What?! Now she does choke, inhaling so sharply that she splutters in a rather undignified manner. Abby just watches, arms folded and propped on the table in front of her, brow furrowed like she's trying to crack an encryption she's never seen before. "No!"
"It would be fine if you were," she states very matter-of-factly, "everyone knows about McGee and I. I just can't believe you didn't tell me."
"I'm not sleeping with him," Kate replies unconvincingly, trying to will away the heat she feels rushing to her face.
"Then what is it?" Abby asks, "because I'm telling you, I will find out. And if it turns out that you are sleeping together and you're hiding it, I don't care how much I love you, I will make both of your lives hell."
"I promise you, I'm not sleeping with Tony," she reiterates, making direct eye contact with her friend to demonstrate her sincerity. She takes a moment, sipping her drink to buy a few precious seconds which she uses to contemplate the pros and cons of explaining a situation that she barely understands to someone who will definitely understand a bit too well.
Ultimately, the threat of Abby's revenge wins.
"He's staying with me," she says, hoping the goth will accept a half-truth, "his landlord's been having some maintenance issues, so I said he could have my guest room until it's sorted. That's all."
Abby says nothing, but her eyes narrow even further as if in contemplation. Then, she leans back, a satisfied smirk on her face. "How long has he been staying with you?"
Damn.
Kate sighs. "About six weeks," she admits, studiously avoiding eye contact, "since I got kidnapped."
"I knew it!" the goth exclaims, grabbing Kate's arm and pulling her in until they're practically nose to nose across the table, "tell me everything!"
"There's nothing to tell," she laughs, risking a quick glance back over to the bar to ensure the two men aren't within earshot, then lowering her voice just to be sure. "We're just helping each other out, as friends."
"Friends, huh?" Abby raises an eyebrow, "like I'm friends with Tim?"
"Just friends," Kate reiterates, "And you're not going to tell anyone, not even McGee. It'll make things weird."
"It won't be weird if there's nothing to be weird about."
"Abs," she pleads, "please."
Her friend groans, but smiles nonetheless, and Kate knows that at least for a minute she's safe. "Ugh, you ruin all the fun. But fine, I promise I won't tell anyone."
"Thank you," she exhales, squeezing Abby's hand in relief.
The two of them fall silent, Abby tilting back in her chair and taking a long sip of her red wine. They watch as Tony claps McGee on the back, the young agent smiling ever-so-trustingly at him, and the pair of them begin making their way back over to the table. Just friends, she thinks, but it feels off, even to her, like an itch she can't quite scratch.
"Just for the record, though, I think you'd be good together."
Kate's head snaps back to Abby, mouth already open to deny it, to ask her friend what she means, but she doesn't have the chance as Tony sidles back into the seat beside her, pushing her a tequila shot with a smile. McGee sits down beside Abby, handing a similar glass to her and blushing furiously as she plants a loud kiss on his cheek. For a moment, Kate tries to picture her and Tony in that position, his arm stretched around her shoulders, her lips against his warm skin. The image isn't as unwelcome as she thought it would be. She's suddenly aware of his arm slung over the back of her chair, their knees pressed together under the table, that unspoken something hovering in the inches between them.
Just friends.
She pulls away, shaking her head. Snap out of it, Todd.
Abby raises her glass, and the rest of them follow, "cheers to Tony for reaching the ripe old age of 33, and here's to making it to 34; if Gibbs doesn't shoot you first."
"Well, I've survived this long Abs," Tony grins, shooting her a wink, "Cheers."
"Cheers," they all chorus, clinking their shot glasses together. Tony and Kate sit back as Abby and McGee lick the salt off the top, and then down the liquid in unison. The goth remains unphased, biting down on her lime straight away, but McGee starts coughing violently, his entire body shuddering in disgust at the unexpected burn running down his throat.
"You got me vodka?" He yells at Tony, eyes streaming as he tries to get a grip of himself. "You bastard!"
But Tony isn't listening. He's doubled over, head buried in his palms as his shoulders shake with uncontrollable laughter, the alcohol only adding to his plight. Kate's not doing much better, lips pressed into the back of her hand to stifle her own giggles as Tim continues to splutter, cursing loudly at them.
He only begins to calm when Abby, face carefully composed into a tight-lipped smile, takes him by the arm and stands up, promising to buy him another drink. Of course, this only makes Tony laugh even more, and his happiness is so contagious that Kate can't help but drop her arms and laugh openly too, her brain slightly fuzzy from the alcohol, heart warm from spending time with her friends.
From spending time with Tony.
As they leave, Abby's eyes meet hers, then dart between the two of them meaningfully, a knowing smile tugging on her lips.
"You'd be good together."
—
Much later on, the pair of them stumble through the door of Kate's apartment, giggling uncontrollably as they cling to each other for support, Tony's arm slung over Kate's shoulders, hers wrapped around his waist to steady him. Somehow they'd managed to call a cab back, driving completely out of the question after the countless shots of god-knows-what. It had taken them a solid 15 minutes to climb the stairs to her floor, mostly due to the fact that Tony could barely put one foot in front of the other, let alone walk in a straight line. Her stomach aches from laughing so hard.
"Did-" Tony's words are barely coherent, a drunken slur broken up by fits of hysteria, "did you see the look on McGee's f- face… When I gave him that vodka?"
In lieu of a response, Kate just laughs even harder, leaning further into her partner's side, his arm a pleasant anchoring weight as her mind and body swim with alcohol. Distantly, she can hear the rational side of her brain yelling at her to step away from him, to put some space between them, but in her inebriated state, she can't bring herself to do it.
They kick off their shoes in the entry-way, Kate almost breaking her ankle as she leans down to undo her heels. She almost goes crashing to the ground, but is saved just in time as Tony sweeps her legs out from underneath her, his disorientated head deciding that this is the perfect time to carry her bridal style into her living room. His blurred vision causes them to sway from side-to-side precariously, causing her to let out an involuntary noise - somewhere between a laugh and a squeal - as she wraps her arms tightly around his neck.
"Tony!" she screeches, hanging on to him for dear life, "put me down!"
"Don't worry Kate," Tony grins, completely ignoring her protests by twirling around in a circle, the spinning apartment only contributing to the nausea-inducing instability that she's already feeling. "I gotcha."
"That's what I'm afraid o- oh my god!" She breaks off into a yelp as Tony trips over his own feet, the two of them crashing backwards onto the couch, leaving him flat on his back, her splayed unceremoniously on top of his chest. Any other time she would probably have a go at him for his complete and utter disregard for their safety, but right now, she's far too drunk, both on alcohol and on happiness, to care. Instead, she presses her face into the solid plane of his chest, screwing her eyes shut to try and dissolve her dizziness as he chuckles breathlessly beneath her.
"You are such a child," she says, but there's not an ounce of irritation in her voice.
"It's part of my charm," he replies, not missing a beat. For a moment, they lie there in silence, a mess of tangled limbs, chests pressed together as they sink into the alcohol-induced tiredness that threatens to consume them. It's nice, having Tony this close. His skin is warm and his muscles are strong, the beat of his heart a comforting soundtrack that could lull her to sleep.
"Kate," Tony murmurs, so jarringly solemn that she lifts her head to look at him. His eyes are closed, head tilted back against the armrest - totally at peace. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For the best birthday I've had in years," he replies, eyes fluttering open languidly to meet hers. There's a vulnerability in them that she's become more accustomed to throughout the time he's stayed with her, but it's different somehow - softer, warmer, like delicate candlelight. "I can't remember the last time I had fun like that."
Something tentative flutters in the pit of her stomach, and in her state, she can't bring herself to crush it the way she normally would, though she isn't in the position to interrogate it either. Instead, she rolls off of him and onto the couch, pressing her body up against his side, her head cushioned on his bicep as his arm once again wraps around her shoulders like it's a foregone conclusion.
"Don't mention it," she whispers, fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of his shirt. She glances up at his face, eyes tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the stubble dusting his chin, his stupidly long eyelashes. "Tony?"
"Yea Kate?"
"If you don't mind me asking," she starts tentatively, "why don't you like birthdays? Abby said that you never normally do anything, and you didn't say anything about it, so I would never have known if no-one had told me."
Tony's body tenses, and for one terrible second, Kate thinks she's pushed him too far. A pained expression flickers across his face, his eyes growing distant as if her words have transported him out of the room and into somewhere he'd rather not visit, somewhere he desperately tries to avoid. However, while she expects him to make a joke in an attempt to throw her off or dance around the subject, he doesn't. He doesn't even get irritated, or tell her that it's none of her business. Instead, he answers with a raw honesty that she's never heard from him before.
"When I was a kid," Tony begins, his voice tight, "my parents… they weren't the greatest. My mom, she tried her best, but my dad…" he breaks off, taking a shaky breath, "he never wanted kids. Just wanted to carry on the name, you know?"
Kate's stomach drops, her fingers clenching around his shirt fabric subconsciously.
"Birthdays were okay before mom died: she'd take me to the movies, we'd stay there all day watching every single showing, eating all the snacks we could get our hands on." A ghost of a smile plays on his lips, "she'd try and recreate their accents and repeat the lines back to me. She was awful at it, but I loved it, because it meant that I actually got to spend time with her."
Tony pauses, and part of Kate wants to tell him to stop, that he doesn't need to tell her anymore. But another part, a much deeper, more selfish part, can't help but want to hear it, to know more about the man beneath the character that is Anthony DiNozzo. So, instead of stopping him, she slides her arm around his waist, nestling even tighter into his side, and hopes that her presence will be enough.
"After she died, Dad just spiraled. He stopped going to work, started drinking a lot. He'd take off for days at a time, leaving me alone and wondering if this was the time he was gone for good. When he did come back he was so drunk that he would just lie on the couch, yelling about how useless I was and how much he wished I was never born. He doesn't remember saying it, but I never forgot." He laughs bitterly, rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead. "It's kinda hard to get excited about your birthday when the most important person in your life is telling you he wishes it never happened, Kate."
"Oh, Tony…" she whispers, unable to find any other words. For some reason, she's never pictured Tony as someone who had a difficult childhood. Whenever he describes it, it's normally in reference to his family's massive wealth, their fancy house in the suburbs of Rhode Island, his experience at a slew of posh boarding schools. His words now, though, offer a much different, much more heartbreaking picture: a young, grieving boy sitting alone in a huge, empty house, his single living parent making him feel like his very existence is a mistake that he deserves to be punished for. It's a far cry from the comedic front that Tony puts up on a daily basis, and she can't help but feel devastated that he's carried these feelings all the way into adulthood, never allowing himself to celebrate on his own behalf. A wave of guilt, greater than she's ever felt before at his expense, crashes over her: in forcing him to come out this evening, has she unknowingly caused him pain?
"I'm so sorry Tony," she says, "I didn't know. I would nev-"
"-I never wanted you to," he cuts in, halting her apology before it has the chance to leave her mouth, "and I had a great time tonight. You did nothing wrong Kate, please don't apologize."
Kate opens her mouth to retort, but it dies in her throat as he turns to look down at her, their noses only inches apart. Lying in the circle of his arms, the fluttering in her stomach reappears with a vengeance, but this time, she's far too sober to confront it, his emotional vulnerability already too much for her to unpack after such a long day and eventful night. So she pushes it to the side, promising that she'll return to it later on, and offers him a weak nod, choosing to accept his reassurances. Tony smiles, leans back against the armrest and closes his eyes.
"D'ya think McGee will forgive me?" he asks.
Despite herself, she snorts. "Not on your life, DiNozzo."
—
After that night, she notices it more.
Now that she's seen the cracks, it's as if she can see right through Tony's persona, right to the core of who he really is.
As it turns out, the real Anthony DiNozzo is a lot of things that Kate never would've expected.
For starters, Tony is surprisingly intuitive beneath his nonchalant personality, always seeming to know what she needs without her saying a word. He's always the first to ask if she's okay, and is never willing to accept a lie when it's clear she's telling one, instead making it his personal responsibility to lift her spirits. This happens on the micro-level almost daily - Tony making a fool of himself in front of Gibbs when she's frustrated, buying her favorite strawberry cheesecake dessert if the day has been too much, or singing obnoxiously to her Britney Spears CD to get a smile out of her on a particularly rough morning. However, the more time she spends with him, she notices him doing it in more serious situations too, like when they're working a case which is pushing all of them beyond their limits, and he still prioritizes her needs over his own.
Take now, for instance. They've been working on a major case for the past week - an investigation into the brutal murder of the wife and daughter of a former marine corporal in their home in Fairfax, with the husband and their son still missing. The case has been awful from the get-go - the crime scene was a bloodbath, the two victims' bodies barely identifiable, and all evidence has pointed to the corporal killing his own family and then going on the run with his son. The wife's parents, hysterical from having lost their daughter and granddaughter in one go, had begged Gibbs to help them find the killer and return their remaining grandchild safe and unharmed.
Gibbs has been like a man possessed, working the team non-stop around the clock to catch the pair and refusing to let them rest until the young boy is found. They're all exhausted, patience wearing thin and tensions running extremely high. Abby and Ducky are grouchy on a level they haven't seen before, Tony and McGee have been at each other's throats for days, and Kate just wants to lock herself in a dark room and scream. She can't remember the last time she slept or showered properly, her hair is ratty, and the stash of spare clothes that she keeps in her desk has run out. Days of living off takeout food and cheap coffee are taking their toll: her skin becoming oily and breaking out in spots, eyes underlined by prominent dark circles.
Tonight, she and Tony are staked out at the victim's house. Evidence suggests that the killer wants to leave the country, so they're hoping that he'll try and return for him and his son's passports. They're parked across the street in a black sedan, the engine cut and lights off, fuelled by nothing but coffee and adrenaline. The car is silent with their exhaustion, and Kate's so tired she thinks she might pass out, eyelids drooping behind her binoculars, vision blurring with sleep. What she would give to be in bed right now, or snuggled up on the couch in a blanket, her favorite show playing while she sits there with-
"Kate?"
She blinks heavily, a warm hand on her shoulder shaking her lightly. "Sorry," she yawns, stretching her arms above her head, "I'm awake."
Tony shakes his head, offering a strained smile. He looks almost as bad as she does, his hair messy and unstyled, worry lines prominent on his forehead and clothes crumpled after days of wear, yet he's still indescribably handsome, and Kate can't help but despise him for it. "I was just saying, you should get some sleep, I'll keep us covered."
"It's okay," she forces herself to sit up, faking a smile despite the dull ache behind her eyes, "I'm fine."
He frowns, and she shifts uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "Honestly," she continues, "both of us should be awake if he shows up."
"Kate," he deadpans, "as far as we know he has no weapon, and if he does show, your combat skills are far superior to mine. You're exhausted, and you'll be no good to anyone in the state you're in right now. Please, go to sleep, I'll wake you up if anything happens."
She scowls at him, but doesn't argue. He's right - the last contact that the corporal had with law enforcement was when he'd tried to strangle a police officer with his bare hands, no hint of a weapon in sight. If it does come down to a fight, Tony might be physically stronger, but she's the trained fighter, and her skills will be irrelevant if she can't stay awake long enough to use them. "What about you?" she asks.
"I'll be fine. I'll wake you up in a couple of hours," he reassures, "get some rest."
"No more than two hours," she points firmly at him, "I'm serious DiNozzo." After waiting for a nod of confirmation, which he reluctantly gives, she reclines her seat, puts her back against the door, and closes her eyes, falling asleep in seconds.
Six hours later, Kate is shaken awake by her partner as the killer tries to sneak through the back entrance of his family home. The ensuing confrontation is a brutal one, with the use of the young boy as leverage forcing them to drop their weapons and fight, their combined combat skills and intelligence strategies only just winning out over a wounded war veteran who's been on the run for days.
Afterwards, the boy is dropped off with his grandparents, who are beside themselves with relief, begging the silver-haired agent to know the names of his people - the man and woman who stormed into the house and fought tooth and nail for his safe return.
The agents in question are crashed on Kate's couch, fully clothed and fast asleep.
They don't wake for days.
—
The second thing that Kate comes to realize is that Tony is surprisingly intelligent. Although, she probably should've known that already, considering he's an investigative cop turned federal agent.
Tony's no academic like Ducky, computer wiz like McGee, or scientific genius like Abby, but his mind works in a way that is foreign to her. It's what makes their petty bickering so much fun, and so endlessly fascinating - she never knows where he's going to take them next. Similarly to his investigative skills, Tony seems to operate at least three steps ahead of her, always anticipating her next move, seeming to know what he has to say, how she's going to react, and where it's going to lead them in every conversation they have, so much so that most of the time she doesn't even realize he's walking her into a joke until it's on her.
It drives her absolutely crazy, the way that after knowing him for almost a year she's still unable to predict his next move, but it's also what makes their dynamic so thrilling. She's never met such a formidable opponent, a man so willing to go toe-to-toe with her, who'll argue every point that she makes or talk her around in circles until her composure cracks and she loses her mind. Most men she's been with tend to back down before they reach that point, trying to use their physical strength, professional accomplishments or bank balance to overpower her, too insecure in their own masculinity to have her prove them wrong. Tony's not like that; if anything, she gets the sense that he enjoys their fiery, overly competitive relationship as much as, if not more, than she does, starting numerous debates that he ultimately knows he will win, but equally as many that he'll lose. It keeps him on his game as much as it does her, and their verbal sparring acts as a welcome distraction in times of boredom or insecurity.
The other benefit to Tony's hidden intellect is that he's able to come up with the craziest schemes, things that she'd never even dream of. Despite her initial reluctance, she now finds herself getting dragged into them more times than she cares to admit, and, although she'll deny it until the day she dies, she actually finds herself looking forward to whatever ridiculous plan he manages to come up with next.
"I can't believe I agreed to this," Kate mutters, begrudgingly slipping her hand into Tony's as he closes the car door behind her.
"What?" he grins, swinging their interlaced fingers between them like a teenager who's just gotten his first girlfriend, "Going to the best bakery in D.C.?"
"Pretending I would want to get married to you," she smiles up at him sarcastically, causing him to offer an equally strained expression in response. She recalls the time when Gibbs had ambushed her in a coffee shop to interrogate her about Ari. You're here to fire me, or to tell me I'm going undercover as DiNozzo's wife, she'd said.
If only he knew that one day she'd be doing it willingly.
"Think of it as practicing your undercover skills," he continues, completely used to, and thus utterly unphased by her lack of enthusiasm. He glances up at the building in front of them - a tall, red-brick structure adorned with a sky-blue shop front. "This is the place."
The place is 'Something Blue' - a high-end bakery in Northwest Washington specializing in artisan wedding cakes. Tony, having connections in a multitude of high places, has been raving about them for as long as she's known him. Kate, having experienced her fair share of posh weddings, has to begrudgingly admit that they are one of the best bakeries around, even while being one of the most expensive. This weekend, they are hosting an open-shop for prospective customers, offering free samples of their famous flavors in an attempt to broaden their existing clientele. Their clientele of course being engaged couples, which Tony and Kate are very much not.
However, with an old DiNozzo family heirloom as an engagement ring, a highly elaborate backstory and an unmatched level of determination, that tiny fact is nothing that two highly-skilled federal agents can't work around.
Especially when the potential reward is so mouth-watering.
"You owe me big time for this DiNozzo," Kate says through gritted teeth, her smile still plastered on her face as Tony opens the door and guides her through, one hand resting on the small of her back. His touch sends a shiver running up her spine.
A bell above the door jingles as they enter, alerting the young red-headed girl behind the counter to their presence. For a moment, her expression is stony, and Kate wonders if she's already seen through them, but then her eyes trail over the ring on Kate's finger and Tony's hand splayed intimately across her back. Her mouth curls into a smile, and it's clear that their ruse has worked. "Hi guys, welcome to Something Blue. How can I help you?"
Kate had warned Tony not to take the PDA too far, mostly for the sake of her own sanity, but it quickly becomes clear that her partner has no intention of turning it down, his arm sliding tightly around her waist and tucking her into his side possessively. Her skin tingles at the contact, mouth suddenly dry. She glances at him, feeling like she's about to burst into flames from one simple action, but Tony appears completely unphased as he throws the girl an easy smile. "Hi there," he says, "my fiancée and I were hoping to get some tasters for our wedding next summer, isn't that right Kate dear?"
Of course this doesn't bother him, she thinks, but the bitterness that she feels is an unfamiliar feeling to her - since when is she bothered about Tony cozying up with another woman?
Tony's hand squeezes her hip, a warning. She snaps herself out of her internal monologue, smiling contentedly up at him. "That's right honey," she replies, turning back to the woman, who's watching them closely, a sparkle in her eyes, "I told him it was too early to start planning, but Tony was insistent that we start now, so here we are."
"I just want to make sure that you get the best, darling," Tony takes her left hand in his right, lifting it to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles, right on top of her fake engagement ring. "You don't deserve anything less."
Kate doesn't need any acting skills for the blush that flushes her cheeks.
"You two are the sweetest!" the cashier coos, and Kate can't help but feel slightly bad for tricking her. "We're actually offering a free taster box for all potential clients right now, so you've come at the perfect time. Let me show you our flavors."
They stay in the bakery for about forty minutes, deliberating over flavors and answering countless questions about their 'love story' from Hannah, the cashier who has made it her personal mission to assist them in any way she can. They stick as close to the truth as possible: they met at work (an office, where Tony's an accountant and Kate's in employee relations), have been together for a year (almost, but not quite) and got engaged two months ago (around the time they moved in together). The proposal was very lowkey - a home cooked Italian meal in the privacy of their dining room, and they're planning on getting married next summer, as they both have big families and busy work schedules to organize around. As they decide, they bicker back and forth over each other's choices, making up outlandish stories about their relationship and taking swipes at one another's taste.
Despite the objective strangeness of the situation, Kate is surprised to find that their dynamic doesn't change, save for the fact that they never stop touching. Tony pokes the tip of her nose, slings an arm around her shoulders, runs his hand along her waist, while she leans back into his chest, caresses the muscles of his arms, plays with his fingers between hers. It's dangerously fun, allowing themselves to fall into these roles, crossing lines that they've never had the chance to before, but also horrifyingly natural. For the first time since that night in the bar, Kate finally acknowledges what Abby was trying to tell her weeks ago.
You'd be good together.
And the worst part is, in another world, where they did meet in an office and held boring 9 to 5 jobs, perhaps they would be. In that world, maybe Kate would be able to address how Tony's touch sets her nerves on fire, how she finds even his worst jokes funny, how he's becoming one of her favorite people to be around. But in their current lives, their real situations, she can't even bring herself to entertain the possibility, because Tony is Tony, and Kate is Kate, and their jobs would never allow it. There's no point in allowing herself to consider anything more than a friendship with him, because that's all they'll ever be able to have.
But right here, right now, she finds that part of her wants to pretend.
In the end, they leave with the six standard samples, along with two additional slices that Hannah had thrust upon them at the last second purely because she had liked them so much. They walk down the street arm-in-arm, aware that they are still being watched, Tony grinning like the Cheshire cat while Kate shakes her head in disbelief.
"I can't believe we pulled that off," she says, using the arm not around Tony's waist to gesture towards the paper bag carrying their precious cargo.
"I can," he replies, tapping his fingers gleefully against her shoulder.
She turns to him quizzically, "What do you mean?"
"It's all in the eyes Kate," Tony chuckles, "anyone can tell that you've got a thing for me."
Their efforts are almost wasted as she punches him.
August.
They carry on like this for weeks, and Kate gets to know all sorts about her partner that she'd never even considered before.
A lot of them are tiny, insignificant details - like the fact that while Tony is incredible at memorizing movie quotes, he is abysmal at learning song lyrics, or, that despite being part Italian, he's never actually been to Italy. She discovers all sorts of quirks that she's never noticed before, like how he talks to himself while he cooks, muttering the details of their latest case to himself as he works through holes in their investigation, or how he seems to have a different pair of shades for every outfit, or how he's actually endearingly clumsy despite his outwardly cool persona.
As she does, she can't help returning to the two phrases that keep bouncing around in her brain, stubbornly lingering no matter how much she tries to dismiss them.
You'd be good together.
Anyone can tell that you've got a thing for me.
She knows, deep down, that Tony was just joking, poking at her like he always does. However, that fact doesn't make her mind any less sure of itself.
Does she have a thing for him? Again, she's always accepted, albeit reluctantly, that he's handsome. But finding someone physically attractive isn't the same thing as being attracted to them, and she's always managed to keep any potential feelings towards him locked in a bulletproof box, buried deep underneath all the things he does that drive her insane. She's always been able to maintain a professional, then friendly, distance between them, never overstepping, never allowing any ambiguities to arise in their relationship.
However, since that day in the bakery, they've gotten closer.
Now that they've officially broken the barrier of physical touch outside of emotional settings, Kate has no qualms about resting her head on his shoulder while they watch TV, or allowing him to wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her into his body. She's come to find a hand on the small of her back comforting, his chin hooked over her shoulder endearing. In fact, she finds herself looking forward to these tiny instances, having to suppress a smile whenever their fingers brush when she hands him something, trying to ignore the desperate fluttering in her stomach that now comes when their knees press together in the MCRT van.
This closeness isn't limited to physical contact, but emotional interactions too. Since telling her about his strained relationship with his father, Tony has continued to open up to her, and she's done the same in return. They've made it into a sort of game: one piece of information in exchange for another, wherever they are, whatever they're doing. When eating dinner one night, he tells her about his slew of inappropriately young, absolutely vile stepmothers, and in return, she tells him about the popular boys who bullied her relentlessly in elementary school. While driving to an interview, she finds out about his failed engagement, and he discovers her long-abandoned dream of professional ice-skating.
She knows how alone he feels, and has always felt.
He knows how she's scared she'll grow old by herself.
Together, they find a sense of companionship that neither of them has had in a long time, and Kate slowly realizes that it's extremely difficult to dislike Anthony DiNozzo when she knows almost everything about him. When Tony's ripping out every fear and insecurity of his for her to see, tearing his own facade to shreds and thereby forcing her to do the same, how can she possibly see him as anything other than her best friend, her partner, the only one who understands her?
Does Kate have a thing for Tony? It's difficult to say, but one thing is becoming clear.
Her feelings are a lot more complicated than they used to be.
Thank you for reading, until next time.