Hello... It's been a while. This story is everything I've ever wanted for these two characters, and is a product of my love for them over the past few years. It will also be my final work on this page.

Please be gentle with it.

May, 2004.

Kate always prided herself on her independence.

Growing up as the youngest of five meant that she'd had to learn to stand her ground at an early age if she wanted to be included in her siblings' adventures. As she'd gotten older, this trait had been both a blessing and a curse: a blessing in the sense that it had helped her career massively, especially working in such a male-dominated field where she had to work twice as hard to be taken seriously. A curse, because it meant that she was perpetually alone. Guys her age didn't like it when a woman was able to stand up to them, especially when said woman was also a federal agent who defended powerful people for a living and carried a gun: it tended to threaten their masculinity. So, instead of going toe-to-toe with her, they tended to hone in on the fact that she was, indeed, a woman. A complete cop-out, in Kate's humble opinion.

If her time in the Secret Service had taught her anything, it was that as a female, she would have to work twice as hard to earn the same respect as her male counterparts. Her emotions, something she'd been raised to view as a strength, were suddenly a sign of weakness. Her body, something that should be celebrated, became a vulnerability that could be used against her at any time. Her personality could be a defining factor in whether she was granted an assignment or not. So, she'd forced herself to shut down all of those things - shoving her emotions beneath the surface, hiding her body under carefully tailored suits, morphing her personality into something colder, professional. She did everything to ensure that no one would ever be able to say that she wasn't worthy of her position.

And it worked, perhaps a little too well.

For years, she has operated beneath this mask - a no-nonsense, utterly fearless alpha female. She's devoted herself entirely to her work, putting her life on the line every single day to prove her dedication. She's taken bullets and doled twice as many in return, held her own in important rooms of suited men, all of whom believed themselves to be of a higher regard than her purely because of the thing between their legs, and she's stood beside the President of her country and had him compliment her on her skills.

Caitlin Todd became a weapon. Strong, intelligent, and undeniably deadly.

So it's crazy that after all of this, after all these years, it only takes one terrorist to bring her facade crashing down.

By the time they leave the farmhouse, the sun is sinking on the horizon, painting the corn fields gold.

Tony is uncharacteristically quiet in the driver's seat, offering none of his familiar jabs or attempts at teasing. He doesn't even hum along to the radio, a well-known country song about falling in love with the girl next door. It's a song meant to be played on warm spring nights, but it's completely out of place in the frosty atmosphere of the car. He hasn't uttered a word since he came to collect her, when he'd asked if she was okay and she'd snapped at him. A tiny part of her regrets it, but a much larger one can't bring itself to care: her split lip is throbbing, her limbs heavy with post-adrenaline exhaustion and her ego bruised. All she wants is to be at home, cuddled up on the couch with her favorite trash reality show playing on the TV. She and Tony are always sniping at each other, he'll get over it.

Still, his silence is suffocating.

They drive through the sunset, the glowing countryside becoming a twilight city. It probably takes about 45 minutes, but after the day she's had, it flashes by in seconds.

She doesn't question how Tony knows where she lives, or how he suddenly has a key to her place. All she knows is that she's never felt so relieved to see her lonely, slightly crappy apartment in her entire life. She waits outside, allowing him to unlock the door and sweep the rooms with his gun before she steps in.

There are a million things to say, but neither of them speak a word.

As Tony kneels to untie his laces, Kate makes a beeline for the bathroom, not even stopping to shrug off her blazer or shoes. She slams the door and strips unceremoniously, leaving her clothes strewn across the floor in her haste to rid herself of the filth she feels on her skin. As she steps under the spray of the shower, she finally allows her shoulders to drop, the hot water forcing the tension from her muscles.

You idiot. What were you thinking, getting into a stranger's car like that?Are you turning soft? Has your training taught you nothing?

She scrubs at her arms, body, and face, so hard that they turn pink under the blistering heat, as if she can scrape his lingering hands from her skin. She tries not to think about slender fingers tracing the curve of her jaw, caressing her forearm, delicately wiping blood from her split lip. The cut stings painfully as soap suds infiltrate it, a taunting reminder of her own incompetence.

Once the hot water has run out, she shuts it off, steps out, and wraps herself in a fluffy white towel. On the floor outside the door, Tony has left a pile of clothes - an oversized gray sweater stolen from an ex-boyfriend, some baggy basketball shorts, cozy socks, and underwear. Any other time, she'd be furious with him for rummaging through her belongings, but right now, the only thing Kate can bring herself to register is exhausted gratitude as she slips them on.

He's plating up pasta as she enters the kitchen, the smell of tomatoes and fresh herbs making her stomach growl eagerly. For a moment, she stands in the threshold, observing. Tony's never set foot in her apartment, but she watches as he navigates the space like he knows it, plucking two glasses from the cupboard above the sink and filling them with the pinot grigio she's had chilling in the refrigerator for the past week. There's something oddly domestic about having him so utterly relaxed in her space, his blue shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, top buttons loose around his neck, like she's just come home and found him here. She shakes that thought from her head almost instantaneously, and zeros in on his face, the only part of him that hints at the day they've both had. Her eyes trail the slight clench of his jaw, the dark circles under his eyes, the way his usually immaculate hair is flopping over his forehead, as it sometimes does after he's been running his hands through it with stress.

Any of her remaining irritation dissipates, leaving only pure, unfiltered relief. The sight of him is so familiar, so comforting, that her tears threaten to spill before she even notices their presence.

He's here. He's okay. Those bastards didn't get to him.

I'm here. I'm okay. The terrorist is gone, he can't hurt me anymore.

I'm safe, I'm home, I'm with Tony.

He glances up from where he's grating parmesan, and his eyes meet hers. A strained smile, nothing like the ones she usually manages to pull out of him, tugs at his lips. It doesn't meet his eyes, and falls almost instantly, jaw clenching even tighter when he notices how vulnerable she looks, lingering in her kitchen doorway. "You alright?"

She averts her gaze, hating the way he scrutinizes her as he rounds the kitchen island. "Sure," she replies, short, snippy.

Tony's footsteps are muffled as he crosses the gap between them, closing it in just a few steps. "Kate?"

"I'm fine DiNozzo," she snaps, but her voice breaks, and that's all it takes for the floodgates to open and the tears to come. It's all just too much - the events of the day, the emotions she's carried for weeks, the nightmares that plague her every night. She feels weak and stupid and so, so tired, and now she's started crying there's nothing she can do to stop.

The mask that was Special Agent Kate Todd has shattered.

Warm arms wrap around her protectively, as if attempting to shield her completely from the outside world. She sobs harder, her knees almost buckling beneath her, and if it weren't for Tony's support she would've fallen to the ground. Instead, he holds her body against his, one arm steady around her waist, the other cradling her head, tucking her securely underneath his chin. Tony is warm and solid, his muscles strong where she clings to his chest, and she knows in that moment that nothing and no-one will be able to touch her while he's there.

For the first time that day, she finally feels safe.

Once this realisation hits, she melts into him, completely boneless in his hold.

"It's okay," Tony murmurs, his voice sounding wet, like he's holding back tears himself, "you're okay." He lowers them to the ground, and they huddle together on the floor, his fingers carding gently through her hair. Kate doesn't think they've ever been this close before, not for an extended period of time. They don't hug, her and Tony. She elbows him in the gut, he pokes her in the rib. They nudge one another to communicate silently in the field, pat each other teasingly on the back or shoulders when one feels they have the upper hand.

They don't comfort each other, not like this. It's an invisible line that's been drawn between them since the moment they met on Air Force One. Neither of them has said it, but there's an unspoken agreement that exists between them to never get too close and to never question or examine any underlying tension that fuels their constant bickering and lingering eye contact. It's too real, too dangerous, too risky. They're coworkers - partners - and on a good day, friends. That's it.

That's all it can ever be, under Gibbs' infamous Rule #12.

Still, even as his shirt grows wet with her tears, she feels that unspeakable something crackling between them. She thinks he probably does too, but she shoves it down, stomping on it with her entire weight until it's once again contained. "I'm so stupid," she chokes out, voice muffled against his chest.

She feels rather than sees Tony shake his head. "You're not stupid, Kate." He sighs, "if I hadn't run off after that chick… you wouldn't have been alone. We could've handled it together."

Kate shakes her head resolutely, eyelids fluttering closed as she attempts to stabilize her breathing. The tears aren't coming as easily now, ragged breaths reduced to sniffles. "I-" she starts, thinks, "I'm glad you didn't. She threatened you. Said she would put a bullet in the back of your head if I didn't help them. I'm glad you weren't there."

For a moment, it's silent. Then, tentatively, Tony speaks, so quietly it's barely audible, "Would you have let her?"

There it is again: that tension, bubbling to the surface. This time, she's certain he feels it too. It's a loaded question, and he knows it. Would she have gone against all her morals, her president, and her country, if he had been in front of her, a gun pressed to his head? The NCIS Special Agent in her wants to say that no, she wouldn't: that at best they would've figured a way out together, and at worst Tony would've died a hero, as many agents do. They're federal agents, and they're expected to give their lives for the security of their country. For the job, they are supposed to do anything.

The woman in her though, she is screaming to say that she can't. That she would do anything, betray anyone, to keep him safe. It's insane, it's irrational, and she'd rather die than admit it to anyone out loud, but it's the truth.

And that terrifies her.

"No." She whispers, and it feels like she's committing the ultimate sin. "Never."

Tony's arms tighten, but he says nothing. He simply presses his mouth to the crown of her head, gently rocking her as she trembles like she might crumble. In the muted quiet of her kitchen, the lights dimmed and the curtains drawn, they are completely cut off from the rest of the world, and he holds her broken pieces together. They stay there for what might be minutes, but feels like hours, until their legs turn numb and eyelids grow heavy.

"Tony?"

His heartbeat.

"Yeah, Kate?"

An inhale.

"Will you stay?"

A/N: This isn't perfect, but I really want to post as I go, so you can have this for now.

Laters x