Please note I do not own any rights to any characters, stories or information to do with the CBS show - NCIS

This is based a month or so after the events of season 1 episode 16 - Bête Noire - when Ari holds Kate, Ducky and Gerald hostage at NCIS.

(this fist chapter is to set the scene, the story is from mainly from Kate's point of view)

Chapter 1

Walking into the bullpen on an average Tuesday, still tired from lack of sleep after staying up late last night finishing paperwork from our last case.

Gibbs is always so particular about deadlines, couldn't once give me a break. Tony's not much better, constantly joking, spewing out movie references I don't give a damn about. McGee, well not a lot to say, although it can get frustrating when he doesn't understand my tactical thinking in the field. Abby, well Abby's just Abby, too touchy feely sometimes but nice all the same.

But, I know they all care, about their work I mean. Everyone deals with what we do differently.

Ugh, does Tony have to 'deal' with his toe nails at his desk. As I sit down at my own desk, which is opposite his, I say "That is disgusting."

He looks up at me, only just realising I've walked in. "But necessary." He gives me a sly grin.

I hide my amusement by replying, "That will be my defence in court after I kill you – that it was a 'necessary evil'!"

"Ooh, did someone get up on the wrong side of bed today?" Tony's grin still smeared across his face.

Just then, Gibbs swoops in between our desks and announces that a Navy Lieutenant has been found dead at a shore side warehouse. "Grab your gear." he stops in front of McGee's empty desk "Dinozzo, where's McGee?" Gibbs fixes a stern glare at Tony, as if he is to blame.

"Err, he headed down to Abby, said some computer Jargon…" Gibbs doesn't look away so Tony continues, "It's like a different language boss, I can't understand it any more than you can!"

Ha! He's in for it now.

"Not that you couldn't understand it if you wanted to, boss." Tony stumbles over his words in an attempt to cover up his mistake. He shifts his gaze between me and Gibbs, pleading for my help.

"I'll call his cell, tell him to meet us out front" I say. Gibbs throws Tony the truck's keys and he gladly runs out of arm's length of Gibbs to avoid a head slap, heading for the elevator.

I smile and reach for my phone. Gibbs puts his hand forcefully over mine so I am unable to pick it up. He drops a folder on my desk using his other hand. I look at Gibbs questioningly, withdrawing my hand to feel across the folder before opening it. It's the case report I gave in last night.

"Re-do it." Gibbs states before promptly turning his back on me and walking to the elevator.

What? Re-do it? Why?! That took me until midnight to compete. Why is he so cold to me all of a sudden? I sigh and reach for my phone to call McGee to arms. Why doesn't Gibbs trust me? He can't know the true events of last month, the hostage situation, and my hesitation…can he?

At the crime scene, Ducky removes the Lieutenant's body, preliminary findings show he was killed by a single bullet to the head. When I finally get there, Tony and I scan the warehouse for any bullet casings but we find none.

"Our killer's a pro, he policed his brass" Gibbs said, "looks like our Lieutenant was executed."

McGee, Tony and I have photographed the crime scene and collected and bagged any possible evidence. We are ready to move out, return to NCIS. The other two are almost at the door of the crate-filled warehouse, I'm not far behind, when Gibbs blocks my path.

"There may still be some evidence or clues we're missing." He states.

"OK," I reply "Shall Tony and I keep looking?"

Gibbs pauses, eyeing me up, before saying "No…. you keep looking, I want all these boxes searched. Tony is coming with me to the Navy yard to talk to the Lieutenant's co-workers and McGee needs to run computer background checks."

I'm, taken aback, Gibbs wants me working on my own, does he no longer trust me around others?

"You want me to check every crate in this full 25metres by 40 metre warehouse… alone?" I know the answer but I don't want to.

He doesn't reply straight away, but turns and glares at me like I'm some sort of animal, a glare worthy of the interrogation room. "What do you think!" He spits this rhetorical question out before advancing, invading my personal space and forcing me to look up to see his eyes. "Do it." Gibbs snatches the filled evidence bags from my grip.

I stare, dumbfounded, as he turns and walks away without a second glance. Throughout this conversation, Tony and McGee have been silently watching and listening from the doorway. Why don't they say anything. They continue to avoid eye contact with me.

The door slams shut behind them. I turn and observe the heaps of boxes before me. I wonder whether Gibbs had found out about Ari and I, that he treated me differently to the other hostages that day. That I had the chance to stab him, to possibly get out (and get Ducky and his assistant medical examiner out too, as we were held in NCIS's autopsy room) but that my hesitation cost us that chance. To escape. To catch Ari –the presumed terrorist who held us at gun point. To stop the future event of said terrorist shooting Gibbs in the shoulder. He must know.

I shut my eyes, trying to calm my paranoid brain. To stop feeling for a second at least. I don't want to remember how I felt because I felt something that… that I don't understand… and that more than anything, scares me.

I decide I need to focus on one problem at a time. Looking around, I don't know where to start. There are so many boxes to search! I walk to the far back corner of the warehouse so I can work my way to the front. It smells damp, mouldy and the floor is dirty with God knows what.

I use a crow bar that I found outside and use it to open the first box of many.

It's now well into the morning and I can hear the banging and shouting of the work in the distance as ships dock in the harbour to be unloaded. That along with the echoing noise I make as I open empty crate after empty crate, makes it hard to hear anything clearly.

I suppose that was the idea. Not all terrorists have a plan. Clearly Ari is just an opportunist.

A hand grabs me by the mouth from behind, smothering me with some damp cloth. I hold my breath, presuming the cloth is drugged, and try to twist my arm to reach the gun on my belt. But before I get a chance to fight back another arm restrains my torso. I struggle against the muscular grip. My attacker continues to hold me tightly. I attempt to kick out with my legs but my lungs are bursting. I do what comes naturally. I gulp for air. And slowly my vision blurs and my muscles relax. I gradually blackout, with the deep sound in my ear – "Shhhhhhhh.."