Title: Two Feet
Author: MindyHarmon
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine; I'm just borrowing them for my own enjoyment.
Summary: Kibbs. Gibbs has to deal with 'the Kate thing' sooner than he thought. Follows directly after 'Fortune Cookie' and will not make sense if you haven't read that one, I don't think…
Spoilers: Not really, but it's set after 'Heartbreak' – although nothing like this happened in the universe of the show obviously because everything is status quo between Gibbs and Kate.
He didn't know how long he'd been sitting like that, when two feet appeared on the worn carpet in front of his face. He rubbed his eyes and looked up, finding the person they belonged to: Kate.
There she was. Shit. He'd never been less happy to see her. What was she doing here?
"I called out…" she said, her voice a shadow of the one she normally used. She didn't offer further explanation for her presence in his bedroom. Her words trailed off and he straightened, looking up at her, very aware of his partial nakedness. She'd taken her hair out of the ponytail she'd had it in before, she'd put something shiny on her lips and her breath was coming slightly heavier and faster than normal. Her eyes glittered with hope and determination and Gibbs started to get scared.
"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned.
"What are you doing here, Kate?" he asked bluntly: "I thought you'd left."
"I did," she said, taking a step closer: "But I don't want to be alone tonight." She slipped her coat off and threw it over the folded sheets on the end of his bed. "How about you?" she asked softly.
Oh God. She'd come for him. His heart had a contraction for the second time that night as it attempted to expand and shrivel simultaneously. She'd come for him and he was in no way prepared. He was not ready for this and he was pretty sure she wasn't either, however determined or casual she tried to look.
He knew at some point it would come to this, there would be a confrontation but he really didn't think it would be so soon. Obviously, he'd underestimated her because here she was with her heart on her sleeve and ready to jump in with two feet.
God. And he had to tell her 'no'.
He was staring at her coat on his bed, but his attention turned back to her with the touch of her hand. She squatted down between his legs, one hand on his knee, giving her balance and offering him comfort. Her eyes grew more concerned:
"Gibbs? Are you okay?"
"Kate…"
"Yes?"
Was it wrong just to want to sit here for a moment or two or twenty, just looking down at her face? So beautiful. After he said what he knew he had to, she would never look at him in quite this way again. Why did she have to make this so difficult? Why did she have to make it now?
"Why'd you come back?"
"Well, I…" She lowered her head, studying the carpet. She wobbled a bit in her position, balanced on her toes and her grip on his leg increased. She rolled her lips inward and pressed her mouth closed.
Kate was no seductress and he loved her for it. Seductresses were fake, manipulative and cruel. He'd had seductresses and he'd had enough of seductresses.
Yet, in her own simple way Kate was doing a very decent job of seducing him without tricks, without tools, without trying.
He had to get her out of here. Now.
"You shouldn't be here."
She looked up at him again, her head tilted to one side, her eyes big and brown and begging: "Why not?"
"Because," he steeled himself mentally and plunged the knife in: "-- because I'm not going to sleep with you, Kate." He softened his voice in order to soften the impact of his words: "Not tonight….not ever. I can't, I'm sorry." He shook his head: "You shouldn't have come back."
Her eyes blinked in shock and her lips parted, but no sound emerged. Then her cheeks flushedpink and her head bowed.
"Come on," he said, gently, taking the hand on his knee and raising her to her feet. He stood also, watching her, trying to find words enough to explain. He wished she'd never returned here. Things had to remain the way they were -- why didn't she understand that?
She snatched her hand back and clasped it over her other arm, holding them in front of her protectively. She couldn't look at him but one brave word finally came:
"Why?"
"You know why," he sighed.
He could see her think about it a moment and then shake her head infinitesimally: "I don't," she whispered, looking up at him for a heart-stopping moment. Then she turned slowly and headed for the door.
"Wait--" he said.
She stopped, on the threshold of his bedroom, half in shadow, half in light. Her back stiffened and her breath caught, hoping he'd changed his mind.
Oh, Katie, he thought, don't do it to yourself.
He gathered up her coat, walked to her and slipped iton her shoulders. He dropped his hands and she paused only a moment before her body fell away from his and she rushed down the stairs and away from him. A sob echoed off the narrow stairwell, only overpowered by the clamber of her heels as she tried to escape him as fast as possible. Isn't that what he wanted? Wasn't that how it was supposed to be? Why did he go after her then?
He grabbed a wrinkled shirt off the washing pile, threw it on and buttoned a few buttons, as he bounded down the stairs after her. He caught up with her at the front door, putting his hand out to stop her opening it and trapping her between himself and the hard wood. He couldn't let her go like this. He feared he'd never see her again, that he'd find a resignation or transfer request on his desk in the morning. That wasn't what he wanted. He was doing this for her, for them, their work, their friendship, wasn't he?
"Kate, please understand, please--"
"I don't understand!" she cried: "I'll never understand you."
She slapped a frustrated hand against the door and he took her wrist, turning her gently into him. She fell into him, her arms bunched up against her chest, her cheek against his breast as she sobbed her heart out. He held her and stroked her hair -- she was already upset tonight, why did this have to happen? It was as if her soul insisted on facing all her fears at once. His heart, such as it was, went out to her.
"Shhhh, don't cry," he whispered into her hair.
"You're breaking my heart," she mumbled into his chest, then hiccoughed.
"Oh, no, Katie, no…" his hands came up, drawing her face away from his chest, one cupping under her chin, the other the back of her head, as he lay a kiss on her hot forehead. She sniffed, her eyes fluttering shut as he kissed her wet cheeks one by one with a butterfly touch.
"Yes, you are…" she whispered and he bent down, putting his lips to hers briefly in a soft, soft kiss that silenced her.
"No, I'm not…I can't…" he muttered, his eyes raking over her pink, moist face and his lips lowering to hers again. "I won't…" he continued laying soft, slow kisses against her open mouth. Her lips puckered, trying to deepen his kiss, draw him in, draw him closer. She wanted more and he couldn't give her any more. This was just platonic, he would've told himself if he had any thought; this was just to comfort her, calm her… this was….unforgettable.
"I can't," he still mumbled as Kate bunched his shirt in her hands and whimpered softly. He pulled away. "I can't," he panted, closing his eyes, tightly.
"You won't," she corrected, after a pause. He opened his eyes at the change in her voice. She was collected now; she had his number and was looking at him like the coward he was. Her coat half on and half off her body, her hair in a glorious disarray and her face painted with her pain and fury, she looked like some divine goddess come to pass judgment on the scared, pathetic male.
She turned and flung open the door, the cold air hitting then both like a shock. He didn't dare touch her again; he stopped her with his voice:
"Please don't think, Kate, that letting you walk out this door isn't one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."
She looked back at him, her eyes teary but steely: "Please don't think, Jethro, that that makes me feel better in the least. You're not letting me walk out this door – you're making me."
He stepped a little closer: "Kate – if you knew how much I…" He shook his head but the words wouldn't come.
Kate gave him a mere moment, then swooped down and took everything away: "I guess I'll never know," she said to the devil on his shoulder, then turned and walked away.
Gibbs watched her go to her car, get in and drive away. Yet for a full ten minutes, he stood on the threshold, the cold wind pricking and punishing his flesh as inside his body, anger warred with loss, fear battled love and head fought heart. It was too late though – the war had already been waged. And in the aftermath, Gibbs found himself unsure that he'd fought on the right side. For if he'd won, then why did he feel like he'd just lost everything?
Author's Note: Hi. I wanted to take the opportunity to thank all those who've read, enjoyed and particularly taken the time to give feedback on my stories. It's really exciting to get the response back, whether the story has been difficult or easy to write. For those who've asked for further chapters to my stories, thankyou, but I don't intend doing follow ups unless they come to me quite naturally as this one did.For those who've encouraged me to keep writing despite the catastrophie of the season finale, well, I haven't seen it yet, as I'm in Australia, so I've at least got a few more months of Kate being around to inspire me. And for those who've asked about my other stories, here's the lot:
"Morning of the Iguana"
"Involved"
"New Years Resolutions"
"The Truth About Cats and Dogs"
"Big Fish"
"Clarification"
"Further Clarification"
"How Gibbs Knows (About The Tattoo)"
"Here's Lookin' At You, Kid"
"Sasparilla"
"Fortune Cookie"
"Two Feet"
"Lost Cause"
...and I haven't posted yet but will...
"Any Day Now"
"Inamorata"
KT 4 JG 4EVA. Thanks again. Mindy. xoxoxo.