Disclaimer: They do not belong to me… -cry-
Summary: ONESHOT Kate works late one evening.
Author's Note: Hmm, apparently I finished this story ages ago and just forgot all about it. Anyway, of a medium long drabble, don't try and look for a plot because there isn't one.
This story isn't beta'd so all mistakes are mine.
The sky had long turned a deep shade of blue, but the pile of papers sitting in front of Caitlin Todd remained depressingly full.
She sighed and rubbed a hand over her neck and shoulders. She should be out on a Friday night, at least trying to have some semblance of a life outside work. But here she is, at work, filling out mind-numbingly boring reports and writing for the umpteenth time her version of the happenings that afternoon.
The worst part of the job, she thought, is definitely what comes after you solve the crime.
It's criminal really, you'd think they hadn't done enough hard work without having to waste their time on sheets of paper that will never be seen anyway.
Kate brushed irritably at a stray lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes and took a big gulp of lukewarm coffee. Her annoyance at the whole situation only seemed to increase when the only other occupant of the bullpen began to snore softly.
She turned her head to observe him. Slumped in his seat, head tilted back, mouth slightly open. She wondered what he was still doing at the office so late, but then again, he's usually always the last to leave.
Whilst asleep he loses his ferocity and general grumpiness. The wrinkles on his face don't seem so deep and his relaxed features make him look younger and more vulnerable.
Like a big cuddly bear, Kate thought suddenly.
Blinking to herself, she wondered where on earth that thought had come from. Must be the coffee, she determined, she'd had way too much today and the caffeine is obviously getting to her head.
Shaking herself from her thoughts, she re-focused her attention to the report in front of her, she didn't want to stay any longer than necessary. However, she couldn't help the fact that her mind kept returning to her brilliant but unpredictable boss. She knew (but denied) that she harboured feelings for him.
There are a lot of people who respected Gibbs for what he does but don't actually like him. But Kate really did like Gibbs. To her, he is one of those rare people that are loyal and astute and what little she knows of him outside his work persona convinces her that beneath the special agent façade lurks a big fuzzy heart that is there but is just out of practise and not used often enough.
But Kate isn't stupid. She knows that even if Gibbs liked her twice as much as she liked him, nothing would ever come of their relationship, especially as long as he remained her boss. And somehow, for the moment, she was ok with that, because having Gibbs as a boss isn't so bad, and she enjoyed working with him far too much to give it up for a relationship that may or may not happen.
Triumphantly signing off the last report, Kate neatly put the papers into their respective folders and piled them neatly on top of one another.
Her companion still had not moved an inch and remained in a peaceful state of slumber, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. Even as she dropped off her work, he did not wake.
Feeling a little bolder (there goes the caffeine again), she stepped into his territory with the light blanket she keeps under her desk.
She knows that he doesn't like the cold. During the winter months, he is grumpier and has a shorter temper, but it's only because the cold gets into those little nooks and crannies that make his joints achy and creaky. Not that Gibbs would admit that he had a bad back. Ever.
After placing the blanket over him and mumbling a quick ''night Gibbs', she hastily retreated, grabbing her coat and backpack, finally ready for a good night's rest.
What she didn't see in her haste to get away was the upward twitch of his lips and the appearance of a full blown smile on Gibbs' face as he opened an eye and saw her hurrying towards the elevator.
Settling down under the soft warmth of the blanket, he slowly drifted off again, but not before muttering to the now empty bullpen,
Author's Note 2: Feedback love.