A/N: It's been quite a busy week for me (and the writer's block didn't help, lol). Here's the update, hope you like. :)

Reviews, favorites, follows, and constructive criticism are welcomed and appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. Any resemblance to dialogue from other TV shows, movies, or elsewhere is purely coincidental. There are some references to a past episode.

Chapter Twenty-Nine:
Welcoming the Past Year
By GallaudetLurker

If she could remain like that for the rest of her life, she would.

From under the veranda that shielded her from the noon sun that threatened to beat down on her, she lazily watched the sea gently swash into the beach before receding away. The sky was bright blue, with nary a cloud in sight, and she found that it reminded him of a certain something – or someone.

Craning her head to the left, she met a pair of blue eyes. She nearly melted at their intensity and snuggled further into the warm body next to her, smiling as his arm tightened around her shoulder. Yeah, she never wanted to move away.

"Well, look at you two. Never thought I'd see ya with a woman anytime soon, Probie – and a beautiful one to boot!"

She smirked as a wizened man appeared and plopped down on the reclining beach chair next to them, a bottle of beer in hand. He was sporting a horseshoe mustache, and his hot pink Hawaiian shirt sharply contrasted with the sky. The conversation that swirled around her seemed to fade away as she watched the mesmerizing currents of the sea.

Never before in her life had she felt so content. She couldn't remember the last time she had spent time with a man like this.

Right at that moment, the sun seemed to grow brighter, steadily overtaking everything with the sheer intensity of its rays, and she instinctively turned her face away. When it faded away at last, she blinked, her vision refocusing, and found herself looking at a gray, pitted ceiling. She frowned at the unfamiliar surroundings for a moment before realizing that she was at Gibbs' father's house.

Closing her eyes, she tightened her hold on the pillow she was holding against her – and found that it wasn't soft or feathery. Keeping her eyes closed, she raised her hand and gently patted the prone form. Her hand covered something firm, and she squeezed it a bit. The soft, masculine grunt from the form caused her eyes to spring open.

As she gaped at the sleeping face of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, so close to hers, only one thought appeared in her mind: she had to be dreaming. She had to. The dream about the beach was probably a false awakening, and she was actually tangled up in the bed in the master bedroom, not sleeping with Gibbs. She felt blood rushing to her face at this double-meaning, and she mentally slapped herself.

When Gibbs didn't fade away or something, she blinked hard, thinking it would do the trick, yet here he was. She did it again, and Gibbs continued to sleep soundly next to her. This time, she felt herself begin to hyperventilate. Her heart leapt into her constricting throat, and her face grew warmer.

Oh God, she thought to herself, trying to ignore the way his body felt against hers like in the dream. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. She slept with him, she actually did it. As if realizing something, she gave herself a quick glance and felt a bit relieved that she was still wearing her nightgown.

Her mind returned to the...compromising position she found herself in. Her heart pounding in her ears, she knew she should get the hell out of that bed and hightail it out of here before he woke up and berated her or—

She closed her eyes with a groan as a particularly impish thought appeared in her mind, as clear as day. She managed to muster enough willpower to force it away, and she took several, calming breaths – and groaned when his musk filled her nose. He smelled damn good, and she shifted a bit when she felt herself throb down there.

'You can do it, Kate,' she thought desperately to herself. 'Just remove your arms from him, get up from the bed, and run like hell!'

She could do it. It was really simple. Yet her arms and legs refused to obey her frantic commands, remaining stubbornly draped over his warm, chiseled form. Staring at her hand resting on his left pec, she cursed the fact that she was snuggling against him, that she didn't want to move away at all, and that she felt so...safe and protected in his arms.

None of her past dates made her feel that way, or least the more recent ones. Only Major Tim Kerry came closest to doing that. She knew it was inappropriate, feeling like this, nevermind the way she felt toward her boss.

Ever since Air Force One, she had felt something of an attraction toward him, and it didn't particularly help that she had a preference for older men. He was a mighty bastard most of the time, and more than a few times, she came close to carrying out her promise to shoot him. Her attraction would've easily dissipated during the two years she worked at NCIS, yet it only intensified. Knowing of his stated belief that romance between agents never worked out – she had vehemently disagreed with that, though – she kept her infatuation to herself.

Not that it was easy working around a man who constantly pressed her buttons (not in that way!), and made her alternate between wanting to shoot him and doing unspeakable things to him in the elevator or her bed—

Whup!

The stinging pain on the back of her head helped her face cool down a bit, although her heart continued to beat faster than normal. Her thoughts turned to the past seven months, or rather the way Gibbs had been acting during that time.

To an untrained eye, he was his usual grumpy self; to her profiler eye, something felt off about him. He seemed to act...different around her (and the others, to a lesser extent), insisting on pairing up with her on field cases more often. On more than a few occasions, she'd caught him looking at her, and as much as she loved that attention, she couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes. It was...sadness? Melancholy? Something else? It was usually gone in a blink, but she noticed. And that look only happened whenever he looked at her like that, not the others. She had wanted to ask him about that, but something in her gut told her that she wouldn't receive an answer.

And that wasn't all: he seemed to be more proactive on some cases. The way he conducted himself, particularly during interrogations, made her feel that he knew more than he let on. It was as if he already knew who the perpetrator and was simply going through the motions. She'd asked him about it a couple of times, and all she received in reply was "gut feeling" or something to that effect. This only intrigued her more.

Before she could continue her thoughts, she felt him stir and tensed up, her instincts warring with her desires once again. The latter won, and she had to settle on watching him wake up. Each second ticked by in tandem with her pounding heart, and she wasn't sure how he would react.

He felt himself stir, letting out a soft grunt as the light slowly filtered into his eyes. The nonexistent dream evaporated, and he blinked a couple of times, not remembering a single thing about it. The ceiling slowly sharpened into focus, and he remembered that he was in the guest room in his father's house – and that someone was pressing into his right side.

Turning his head slightly to the right, he saw hazel eyes peering back at him. She looked apprehensive, and he wondered why. He gave her a half-smile, trying not to think too much about the way their bodies fit together, and she slowly returned it. "Morning, Katie." He adjusted his position so that he was sitting up a little, and she adjusted her position accordingly. He involuntarily swallowed when the covers slipped to reveal a black nightgown.

"Morning, Jethro," Kate returned. Gibbs noted that their faces were fairly close, and an irrational thought struck him that, perhaps, he oughta close that distance. His heart speeding up a bit, he let his eyes trail down to her lips, wondering what they tasted like. Would she taste like vanilla or strawberry or something else? Before he knew it, he found himself leaning in, and she doing the same. His breath began to mingle with hers.

The door creaked open, followed by the thumping of a cane. "Son? Breakfast's downstairs if ya—oh my God!" Their lips millimeters away, they sprang apart to see a wide-eyed Jackson standing in the doorway. "Um, I-I'm gonna check on something..." the old man mumbled as he began shuffling away, the clacking of his cane fading in the distance.

He blinked, and she blinked in turn. The silence between them was deafening, and he struggled to find words to convey anything, but he couldn't.

"Uh, ah, breakfast time," he finally croaked out, tossing the covers off him, swinging his legs over the bed, and standing up. Turning, he nearly got hard there and then. Never had the urge to run his hands over the sides of her black nightgown, or pull her in for a kiss, been as strong as it was right now, and the bedhead didn't particularly help.

Through sheer willpower, he somehow managed to avoid making a tent in his shorts or doing anything foolish, and he left the room. The aroma of egg, grits, toast, and coffee assailed his nose, and his stomach growled appreciatively. His father was standing at the counter, pouring a mug of coffee.

Jackson's eyebrows rose as he glanced over. "Mornin' son." He hobbled over to the table with mug and newspaper in hand. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that his father had plenty of questions in his head, and he wasn't looking forward to answering them.

"Mornin', Dad," Gibbs grunted, grabbing a plate and scooping the food into them. He then brewed a cup of coffee, trying not to think about the near-kiss or the sensation of Kate curled against him, before returning to the desk.

There was something of a tradition that he and his father shared, growing up. Gibbs waited patiently as Jackson looked through the newspaper for a couple of moments before picking out the bits he wanted and passing them on to him. Gibbs was glad that the sports section was there. The newly-buried hatchet just burrowed deeper a bit.

"So..." Jackson began, casually reading the newspaper and Gibbs held in a groan, knowing what he was going to say next. "Ya sure she's just an agent?"

"Positively," Gibbs muttered, shoveling a large spoonful of eggs into his mouth.

Jackson looked at him over the top of the paper. "Sure didn't look like it to me." Gibbs responded by biting into his toast and drinking over half of the scalding coffee in one gulp. At the moment, Kate entered the kitchen, dressed in an over-sized sweater, and Gibbs tried to avoid thinking about how good she looked – and about how he wanted to kiss her.

"Good morning, my dear," Jackson greeted with a smile, and Kate returned it. "Good morning, Mr. Gibbs."

Jackson let out a chuckle. "Call me Jackson, or Jack, if you'd like."

Kate nodded, and went over to make a cup of coffee. Gibbs was pretty sure he'd been reading the same line over and over again for the past several moments, and he resisted the urge to turn his head to look at the brunette or something. He raised his mug to his lips – and found it empty. After debating with himself for a moment, he got up and walked over to the coffeemaker.

The tension between them was palpable, and Gibbs tried to think of anything to 'defuse' it. He glanced at her mug, and frowned a bit. "Milk and cream, Katie?"

Kate arched an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt or something," she teased. He gave her a half-smirk, remembering what he'd told her on that day, months ago.

"Yeah," he said simply, raising his mug to his lips as he returned to his seat. Ignoring his father's look, Gibbs picked his newspaper up and looked at various pictures of football players on the front page, thoughts of Kate running through his mind.

"So, uh, how did you two meet?"

Gibbs raised his eyebrows as he looked over at his father. Didn't he ask that yesterday at the shop? And did he have to make it sound like they were already dating or something? Kate appeared to think the same thing, but she smiled nevertheless. "We met at Air Force One." Memories of that day flashed in his mind.

Jackson sipped his coffee. "What's that?"

"President's plane," Gibbs replied, flipping through his newspaper. Jackson nodded in understanding.

"I was working in the Secret Service at the time," Kate added, glancing at Gibbs. "We, um, were working on a case, and then Jethro here tried to steal the plane."

Despite himself, Gibbs let out a loud snort. "Wasn't trying to steal the plane. I was merely doing my job," he said midst his chuckles.

"Your job involved stealing the plane!" Kate pointed her fork at him, her eyes boring into his. Gibbs grinned at her as he drank his coffee.

"Well, gotta steal a plane to save the President's life sometimes," he returned. Kate's eyes narrowed a bit, a smile dancing on her lips.

"Sounds like you've had hell of a time," Jackson said with a chuckle, shaking his head. "And to think my own son hijacked a plane... It'd be nice to meet the President though, if only to give him a piece of my mind."

"Don't we all?" Gibbs said with a smirk.

"There's someone else I'd like to give a piece of my mind." Kate gave him a pointed gaze. Gibbs was pretty sure that if given half the chance, she would throw that fork at him like a weapon. And the mug for good measure.

He merely gave her a smirk as he returned to his newspaper.

She was up to something. He was pretty sure of it.

Gibbs watched Abby rock back-and-forth on the balls of her feet. She was planning a New Year's Eve party at her apartment – "What better way to welcome the New Year than partying with friends?" – and she'd asked him to go. By 'asked', she'd wrapped her arms around him as soon he set foot in the Lab and begged him to come. Repeatedly.

He'd declined, saying that parties weren't his thing. That was certainly true; in the past-next ten years, he'd usually holed up in his basement and counted down to the New Year with each blow of his hammer on his boat. Or ran the sander over his boat with each countdown that blared from his radio, or shot double taps at a screenshot of Ari Haswari (would anyone believe him if he said he'd accidentally printed out extra copies of that picture years ago?).

And besides, he didn't feel like dodging mistletoe. He'd had done plenty of that in the past few days.

Unfortunately, Abby wasn't easily deterred by his declination. "Why won't you come, Gibbman?" She asked with pleading eyes.

Gibbs averted his eyes away, having spent the past ten minutes trying to convince Abby of why he couldn't go. "Abs. I already told you: I ain't interested in parties. Besides, I've got other plans." He suppressed a snort: it sounded stupid, even to himself.

The Goth's eyes sharpened into a glare. "Spending the night cooped-up in that basement of yours doesn't count as a plan, Gibbs!" Her face softened slightly. "Won't you come? Everyone at NCIS's going!"

"Define 'everyone'," he said with a grunt, glancing at one of her main computer monitors. It was displaying what looked like DNA or something.

Abby rolled her eyes. "Everyone as in you, me, Kate, Ziva, Tim, Tony, Ducky, and Jimmy! What, did you think I actually invited everyone in the building?" She put her hands on her sides, pasting on an annoyed face, even although her eyes betrayed her amusement.

Gibbs' face creased into a smirk. "Wouldn't've surprised me, Abs."

"You flatter me too much, Gibbs. I may be good at my job, but I can't fit hundreds of people in my tiny, cramped apartment – although that'd be kinda neat," Abby tilted her head a little in thought before turning to him. "Please say you'll come. Please. Please? Pleeeeeease?" She even signed it in ASL for good measure, and he smirked at that. "It won't be the same without you."

"How's that?" Gibbs asked, preparing to invoke Rule 52 should Abby's lip stick out a bit more.

Abby gave him an incredulous look. "You're, like, the life of the party!" She replied with flair, throwing her hands up. "Did you really have to ask that, Gibbs?" Her hands were back to her sides once again.

Gibbs let out a laugh at that. "Have to. I'm a NCIS investigator, remember?"

"So am I. Well, not exactly as I'm a forensic scientist, but I do investigate crime scene evidence other stuff that you guys send me." A sly smile broke over Abby's face, and Gibbs found that he wasn't looking forward to what Abby had to say next. "And speaking of investigators, did I mention Kate'll be going?"

He swore his resolve began to waver at the mention of the brunette's name and the fact that she would be going. "Only a couple hundred times," he replied dryly, ignoring the contractions in his gut.

The Goth's grin widened, a gleam in her eyes. "Let's make it two-hundred and one, then. Will you go? Please? I'm sure Kate wants you to go."

"I do," Kate said, entering the lab. Not for the first time, there was a twinge in his heart at the sight of the brunette, and his mind flashed back to Christmas morning.

Abby gave him a smug grin. "See? Will you go?"

He figured it couldn't hurt to give it one more try. "You know why I can't make it, Abs."

Abby rolled her eyes. "Oh puh-lease!" She glanced at Kate, who looked confused, and continued. "Gibbs here apparently can't make it. He – get this – has other plans."

He almost felt self-conscious as Kate gave him an once-over, a bemused grin on her face. "Oh, is that it?" She stepped closer to him, and he was overcome by her tantalizing vanilla scent. He had to force his arms to remain by his sides so they couldn't wrap around her or something. "They wouldn't have anything to do with building the boat and sipping bourbon, would it?"

Was that how DiNozzo felt whenever Kate and Ziva ganged up on him? "You tell me, Katie," he said, putting that thought aside, as he began to step around them toward the exit. However, the women blocked his way and he held in a sigh.]

"Why don't you want to go?" Abby asked with a slight pout. "Don't you like any of us?"

Gibbs realized what it was – his ex-wives pulled that tactic on him far too many times than he'd cared to count. "I do," he said, truly meaning it as he looked at the two women, his eyes lingering on one of them a bit longer than necessary. "It's just that...ah...I don't really like parties." He clenched his jaw before continuing on: "Uh, I mean...I don't feel like going insane by DiNozzo's rambling before the New Year begins."

"Well, you don't have to listen to him all night," Kate said with a chuckle. "You could spend time with me." As if realizing what she'd said, Kate glanced down at her fidgeting hands.

His resolve crumbling further, Gibbs supposed that he should curse the fact that he was going soft in old age – except he knew it wasn't the case at all, never mind that he wasn't that old yet. A thought struck him: this would be the first time he welcomed the New Year with her since her death the first time around. And not to mention, 2006 was the year Kate never lived to, and he'd be damned if he wasn't at her side when the ball dropped in New York.

He nodded, feeling his resolve grow once again. "Bring plenty of beer." It'd be worth the torture that was DiNozzo as long he had bourbon and a woman at his side. He blinked at this part, and before he could think on it any further, he felt himself being squeezed within an inch of his life. "Thank you! Thank you!" Abby all but screamed into his ear before stepping back, her hands still on his shoulders. "We're gonna have an awesome time!"

As he wheezed slightly, his eardrums stinging, he looked at a beaming Kate.

Yeah, the torture would be worth it.

"Hell of a party, isn't it?"

Gibbs turned to look at Fornell, who was reclining on the couch next to him. He shook his head with a smirk as he returned his attention to the TV. It was a recap of the match between the Redskins and the Giants that took place over a week before, and the Redskins were winning so far.

"Yeah." He sipped his Budweiser. He hadn't gone to Abby's apartment often in the past-next ten years, so he'd been somewhat surprised to find that it wasn't covered with Goth stuff. Well, there were few posters and the furniture was Gothic black, but that was pretty much it.

"You know, I'm surprised she invited me," Fornell remarked, swishing his bottle.

"Me too," Gibbs half-joked, causing the FBI agent to chuckle.

It appeared that Abby invited a bit more people than she said (not that he was surprised).

DiNozzo was flirting with Ziva in the kitchen (and receiving eyerolls in return), Kate was conversing with Abby and Ducky nearby, Palmer was chatting with McGee near the hallway, and a couple of agents he didn't recognize was standing around, holding their drinks. Kathy was sitting on Jerry's lap on the reclining chair, enjoying their beer.

For a brief moment, he swore he saw Kate and himself there, and shook his head. It didn't take long for his eyes to gravitate to Kate, however, and he felt something stir in his loins when he looked at the brunette. She was wearing a white blouse and dark skirt, and his eyes trailed down her shapely legs, imagining for a moment them wrapped around his—

He gave himself a mental headslap and refocused on the game.

"Something on your head, Jethro?" Fornell's smile was slightly mischievous, like he knew something Gibbs didn't, and Gibbs couldn't help but get that feeling of foreboding.

"Oh, just lookin' forward to seeing the ball drop in New York," Gibbs replied sardonically, willing his beer to wash the feeling away.

Fornell looked at him for a long moment, his smirk widening. "We all do, my friend, we all do." He took a swig of his beer before continuing, "Got any New Year's resolutions in mind?"

Gibbs let out a laugh. "Do I look like I do that crap, Tobias?"

The FBI agent shrugged. "New Year, fresh start. Can't hurt to improve yourself in some way, y'know?"

"Well, yeah, got one for you: don't take used things."

Fornell gave him a deadpan stare. "Only if you stop divorcing women."

"Already doing that, Tobias," Gibbs said. "Seriously, though, I'm too old for that stuff." One of the players tackled his opponent with such a force that it actually made him wince. It brought back memories of tryouts in sophomore year of high school.

"No, you're not." He jolted at the voice, and he felt the couch dip when Kate sat down next to him, two beer bottles in hand. She was sitting so close to him that their legs were practically touching. "Beer?"

Noticing his own bottle was nearly empty, he gave her a half-smirk before draining it. "Thanks, Katie." He took the new bottle. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Fornell grinning at him, and turned his head. "What?"

The balding agent shook his head, returning to the TV. "Nothing." Gibbs gave him a disbelieving look.

"So, what's your New Year's resolution? And don't you say you're old for that stuff or anything like that!" Kate said the last part with a light glare, and Gibbs couldn't help the rumble of laughter that spilled from his throat.

"My resolution's..." He pretended to think it over. "...don't make New Year's resolutions." Kate thumped him on the shoulder.

"Seriously."

Gibbs returned her look. "Serious as a heart attack, Katie."

Kate shook her head as she drank the beer. "Your New Year resolution's...?" She prompted. He didn't know if it was these large, doe-like eyes, or her vanilla scent, or her close proximity, or if it was the beer, but he found himself mulling over his resolutions.

"Hunt down and kill criminals," he replied at last. "That's my resolution."

Kate gave him raised eyebrows, amusement evident in her eyes. "You already do that, all year long."

He tilted his head. "That means I'm good at resolutions, then."

Kate snorted. "Sure you are."

"Most people don't even follow through on their resolutions for too long." Gibbs raised his shoulders, ignoring Fornell's snickering.

Kate turned her body slightly toward him. "I'm surprised you know that."

"Jethro's full of surprises," Fornell cut in before Gibbs could make a reply.

Kate's eyes twinkled as she sipped her beer. "Ain't that the truth."

Gibbs rolled his eyes, turning to the FBI agent. "Don't ya have a resolution to work on or something?"

Fornell's laugh lines deepened. "Oh, I thought you were too old for that?"

Gibbs gestured at Kate with his head. "She said that I'm not too old, so I gotta take her word for that." Kate cuffed him again, harder this time.

"Not too old for what?" DiNozzo walked up, Ziva behind him. "Er, not that you're too old or anything like that, boss!"

Gibbs was about to make a vague reply, but Fornell beat him to it. "Resolutions." He shot the FBI agent a light glare, and received an innocent smile in return.

A grin came across the Special Agent's face. "Resolutions? They're lotsa fun, quite a nice way to start the new year. Why, my resolution is to—"

"—stop making stupid movie references?" Kate interrupted, and Gibbs shared a chuckle with Fornell and Ziva.

DiNozzo gave her the stink-eye. "Only if you stop harping on poor, little me like that," he sneered.

"That'll be the day Hell freezes over," Kate retorted, crossing her legs.

"That would be quite the day, would it not?" Ducky commented, holding a glass of red wine in his hand. He glanced at the TV and smiled. "Ah, football. Quite a delightful sport where players with strong physique run around, smashing into each other in their oft-futile effort to catch the ball."

"We gotta find our balls sometimes, Duck," Gibbs said, sipping his beer. Kate put her hand over her mouth, and Ducky looked amused.

"And DiNozzo here has not found any," Ziva piped in, and there were chuckles around. The man himself looked decidedly unamused. "That's a low blow, Zee-veed," he muttered, glaring at the Israeli.

"Well, she's Mossad. You should know that, Tony," Abby said, patting DiNozzo's shoulder patronizingly. She then turned to Gibbs. "Can you believe the new year's almost upon us, G-Man?"

"Yeah, time moves fast," Gibbs commented lightly. To think that he'd been in 2015 at the beginning, and now here he was, about to move into 2006. But at least he was surrounded by his friends and co-workers this time around.

Abby nodded. "Tell me about it. A year ago, Tony here was handcuffed to a dangerous criminal. His GPS tracker wasn't working and he was alone with someone who could kill him with his bare hands – and we wouldn't know it! Ohmigod, we could've lost you for good, Tony!" She latched into DiNozzo and squeezed him hard.

"Yeah...but you didn't," DiNozzo groaned, trying to remove Abby's vice-like hold on him. "And I took care of him, remember?"

Abby released him. "Yes, but all this wouldn't have happened if you allowed me to put the chip in your neck!" She put her hands on her sides, glaring at him for a moment.

"Think of all the possibilities," Kate said with a grin. Ziva had a gleam in her dark eyes.

DiNozzo grimaced. "Yeah...no. Don't feel like having chips implanted inside me."

Gibbs cocked his head. "Thought you liked the Matrix?"

DiNozzo looked surprised. "Uh, yeah, I do. But, actually, they – the machines – don't exactly put microchips inside you..." Gibbs found himself zoning out already. "...they more like plug you into this massive mainframe, using you like human batteries to power up the virtual world—"

"Here you go, breaking your resolution before you even made one," Kate said dryly, taking a large gulp from her beer. Gibbs gave her a half-smirk as he held up his bottle for her to clink hers with. DiNozzo glowered at her.

Abby smiled and shook her head at this. She glanced at the overhead clock and nearly did a double-take. "Everyone, gather around! It's nearly here!" She grabbed the remote and switched to the ZNN channel, which showed a pretty news reporter surrounded by crowds in New York. Gibbs looked at his wristwatch. It was 11:59 PM. When did time move so fast?

Glancing at Kate, he found her looking at him, her eyes bright. Something coiled in his gut, and he swallowed as he looked at her slightly parted lips. His heartbeat began to speed up and he found himself wanting to taste these lips. Barely hearing Abby and DiNozzo chant the countdown, Gibbs continued to look at her, the urge to do something potentially foolish growing by the second.

Before he even knew it, he reached out to stroke her cheeks gently. He heard her sharp intake of breath, and smiled a little. Her chest was heaving ever so slightly, her eyes darkening, and he involuntarily licked his lips, she doing the same.

As fireworks and cheers erupted around them, Gibbs took a deep breath and pulled her into a kiss.

A/N: I'm kinda iffy on the ending. I rewrote it several times, and still. But at least we got the kiss out of the way. Onward to some action!

...

Not that kind of action, mind you – although that'll happen someday, lol. Well, it already happened once before, but that was a dream. It hasn't happened in real-life—look at me, I'm rambling.