Reclaiming a Lion
by Sammie

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. If I did, would Kate be dead? bares fangs Oh, and I am STILL mad they made Ari a real bad guy. That was a dumb thing to do to the awesomest "bad" guy on TV. In my world, he is still Mossad undercover.

Dr. Nathan Jackson belongs to CBS and Trilogy's "The Magnificent Seven".

Rating: K, T max.

Spoilers: "Bete Noire" through "Reveille," with bits and parts elsewhere.

Summary: The hunt for the "Bete Noire" intruder continues. Missing scenes from after "Bete Noire" through "Reveille". (Kate/Gibbs)

A/N: Actual dialogue from the episodes are in italics. Mainly, the other "missing scenes" from these other episodes are set up for my FF on "Reveille" (at the end).

Much thanks to the "FoN" board - I get a lot of my ideas from there.

Ari means "lion" - hence the title. He doesn't actually show up for awhile...this is not really a story about him.

"The elephant is never won by anger; nor must that man who would reclaim a lion take him by the teeth."
- John Dryden

01.17 "The Truth Is Out There"

Gibbs hadn't been able to sleep normally since that night.

Every time he lay down, making the decision to try to catch a few hours, he lay wide awake, unable to sleep. Most times he slept it was out of sheer exhaustion, a mere promise to nap for a few moments stretching into several hours.

They were never peaceful hours. They were filled with nightmares that always involved that terrorist - although most times he was absent. It was like his life now - consumed with his hunt for that terrorist, although the terrorist himself was never there. In the dreams, they found evidences of his work, always one step behind; or discovered to their horror that he had been watching them, but were unable to catch him.

As he walked on ahead to the crime scene, he could hear Tony's nervous prattle. He was not in the mood to deal with whatever Tony considered to be his version of "chatting", however well-meaning.

"What do you do with your leftover cereal when there's not enough to eat but there's too much to throw away, 'cause I was having Cap'n Crunch this morning, and - "

"Tony, I'm really not in the mood today." At least Kate still had patience today to deal with Tony. That was more than could be said of him.

"Well. I was just trying to take your mind off him."

"Who?"

"The one that got away."

"Tony! I'm not thinking about that d-mn terrorist." Like h-ll. Even he knew she was, even though they never spoke of it. They just never...spoke about HIM. He heard Tony apologize, and then Kate's toned down voice. "Look at Gibbs. OK, he's been growling like a wounded bear since that night."

He was NOT. Gibbs pretended not to hear.

"Well, he is wounded," he could hear Tony saying. "And he always growls like a bear. It's his way of never letting anyone know when he's hurting. Yours is to be moody."

"I'm not moody," Kate snapped.

If Tony didn't shut up soon, Gibbs was going to shut his trap for him - permanently.

"I feel sorry for whatever his name is," Tony was muttering, and for a moment Gibbs had half a mind to march over there right at that moment to strangle him. SORRY?

Ducky was already there, and Gibbs was again reminded - in an irritated way - of Tony. He had known a "shortcut" around the GW Parkway. Shortcut, his a. Even Ducky, who couldn't read a map if his life depended on it, had gotten there before them.

"I came on the GW Parkway," Ducky was countering Tony, and then added somberly, "after stopping at the hospital to visit with Gerald."

Gibbs softened. "How is he?" he asked gruffly, but he knew the answer.

He unconsciously rotated his own shoulder. He had been shot in the shoulder, and it was still sore, but the terrorist had missed his joint. Gerald, though. Gerald would be out for months with an injury like that - he had been shot point-blank, straight into the ball-and-socket joint. And whether or not he wanted to return - who would have thought that a medical assistant would be in that kind of danger working in autopsy? If Gerald even decided to come back...

Yeah, he knew how Gerald was.

Daryn Spotnitz wasn't even old enough to vote, Gibbs thought. He'd listened to the boy - and that's what he was - tell how he ran the bar, the profits that he made. That didn't bother him so much. It was what Spotnitz did when he asked about Antoine Mann - with two n's.

That little twerp pulled out a PDA, and he had more gizmos than Inspector Gadget. He felt a sort of burning embarrassment at that. "Kate," he barked, his sharp tone covering over his insecurity, bubbling up.

"Right," Kate replied glibbly, flipping open her own PDA.

"You want me to beam it to you?" Spotnitz grinned.

Kate gave a light laugh. "Sure."

Gibbs just gave a look of exasperation.

"Just set the PDA on the table when you interrogate the petty officers," Kate instructed. "It's all set up. We'll beam you anything you need to know, and it will show up on the screen."

"I HAVE used one before," Gibbs growled.

A tiny part of him felt guilty at snapping at her, but his mood was too sour for the guilt to last long. He saw her bite back a retort, take a deep breath, and purse her lips. She was looking at the PDA, counting slowly to ten. "We're holding the four petty officers separately, and we'll bring them to you one by one."

"Boss, just don't touch the PDA, OK?" Tony instructed, obviously not having taken the hint Kate had and continuing to blab on. "Just let us - "

"I got it," Gibbs snapped, and this time Kate looked up instantly, giving him a dark look for the tone he'd used with Tony, more offended now for the colleague she saw as a brother than she was for herself.

Gibbs ignored her, opening the door to the interrogation room.

He was staring at the computer program, letting it run again through all the photos of the terrorists. He saw the smirk on the one side of the computer screen, right before the bastard shot out the camera he'd lowered through Abby's floor into autopsy.

Tony and Kate returned then, Tony blabbering on about how redundant it was for Antoine Mann - with two n's - to shave his head, and Kate was busy concentrating - most likely on trying not to kill him for his prattling.

"Hey boss," Tony greeted. "So we talked to Antoine Mann, and boss, you should have seen him. Bald as a cue ball. It was like - "

"DiNozzo!" he snapped, in no mood for his protege's comments.

As they discussed the case, and why the four would lie about the woman they'd gone out with, Gibbs noticed Kate looking at him and his computer search, worriedly, furtively. He dug in his heels mentally and refused to budge or even to look ashamed of his obsessive behavior.

Kate had had enough. "Haven't you already run every known terrorist through this program?"

"I'm running it again," he snapped, and she fell silent, retreating, wounded.

It was late when Wong had been booked, and they hadn't eaten since noon. Tony had been shoveling snacks in his face during all his free time - h-ll, he still ate like a teenager, Gibbs thought. No wonder he had to have a job. He had to feed himself.

The older man saw him stop by Kate's desk. "Wanna grab some Chinese at the new place down the street?"

"Sure," Kate replied, then paused. "Wanna ask Gibbs?"

He pretended not to hear it, but his hearing was better than most. He was not in the mood to be social, even if he was hungry. He did not want to go out with them.

Gibbs was almost angry with Kate for wanting to go. She should be searching for the bastard, looking for some other way to locate him. She shouldn't be going out, eating with colleagues. She should be using her free time to track this bastard.

He felt his mood sour even more.

"He's busy," Tony was saying, accurately, and Gibbs thought - a little viciously - that that's why Tony was the senior agent, not Kate. "Same thing he does every night," the younger man answered Kate's question.

Kate gave him one last look, which he ignored, and followed Tony out.

Kate came back into the office, grateful for the silence. Gibbs had finally left - most likely to go home to work on his boat or whatever, and Tony had rushed home after dinner to watch some movie. Thank goodness. This would only take a few minutes, but she wanted to be alone when she did it.

She sat down quickly and dialed the familiar number.

"Cassidy."

"Agent Cassidy, it's Kate Todd."

Paula had been wondering when Kate Todd would call. She'd been calling twice a week since the terrorist had shown up in NCIS autopsy over two weeks ago, begging for more information. They'd exchanged information, and both she and Kate were still working on how the Israeli embassy would send a Hamas cleaner to NCIS...or who it was that had said it was the Israeli embassy who had sent the terrorist.

"Agent Todd!" Paula held up a finger to her dance partner, indicating she had to go, and headed outside El Floradita. "Hi."

"Look, I'm sorry to call you now, off hours. It's just that I couldn't get time alone until now."

"No problem," Paula replied. "Look, I'm sorry, but I've got nothing else for you now. I've had Bill Gamal and the FBI agent he works with over here, helping me out, but there's been nothing else on that Little Creek lead."

In the ensuing silence, she could almost see the disappointed look on the brunette's face, but Kate managed a polite, "Thank you, Agent Cassidy."

"Agent Todd," Paula said quietly, then walked some distance away for more quiet. "Are you all right?"

Truth be told, Paula Cassidy was starting to worry. This was not the Kate Todd she had met a couple months before - confident, calm, quick on her feet, the one could play Tony like a violin, and the one who could get Gibbs to acquiesce to her even when he disagreed.

This Todd - she had become withdrawn, almost a little obsessed.

Paula had to admit to a feeling of kinship with the other woman. Women were few at NCIS - agents in particular - and to run into one wasn't that common, particularly in the field. It was lonely, sometimes, particularly when cases got stressful and trying, not to have somebody to talk to. She had met Abby Sciuto before, and although she knew Todd and Sciuto were friends, Paula knew at the same time that being on the field, holding a gun - she was able to relate better to Kate Todd than a lab specialist might.

In addition, to be stuck working with the legend - Leroy Jethro Gibbs' reputation preceded him - was one few women had managed to survive. She had to admire Kate's ability to stand up to him, to win his respect. She herself still hadn't, she had to admit.

Kate's voice, when she finally responded, was small and filled with frustration. "He just disappeared. Just...just disappeared. Gerald is going to be in rehab for months, and that bastard clocked Gibbs in the shoulder."

"Hey," Paula soothed. "Hey, take it easy. We can't get every single terrorist all the time."

"Gibbs has gone insane," Kate muttered discontentedly. "He just growls like a wounded bear all the time."

"Does he know that you've been calling about this lead?" Paula asked, suddenly worried. This constant calling - Gibbs would most likely be concerned if he knew his agent was obsessing like this.

Then again, from the sound of it, he was obsessing so much he most likely wouldn't have noticed.

"No," Kate replied to her question. "He isn't talking to anybody. Grumpily silent."

"This is different from how he is generally?" Paula asked with a small smile, trying to lighten the tone. There was a pause, and then Kate chuckled, and Paula smiled. "And how about you?" the blonde asked quietly.

"Me?" the tone sounded almost puzzled for a moment, and then there was a pause. "I'm doing all right, I guess."

"You can't let this all build up," Paula murmured, worried. She suspected that Kate had been so worried over her wounded colleague and over Gibbs that she wasn't dealing with the fallout herself, and even from hundreds of miles away, Paula couldn't help being concerned.

"I won't." There was a noise on the other end, and then she said, "I've got to go. Thank you, Agent Cassidy."

"Paula," Cassidy corrected. After two weeks, it ought to be less formal. "Paula."

"Kate," Kate reciprocated, and both women smiled a little. There was a moment of quiet, and then the distinctive click of a hang-up.

Paula sighed to herself and brought the phone away from her ear, then snapped it shut.

Gibbs found Kate in the Secret Service gym, working out with a tall, brunet agent. The Secret Service agent gave her advice as they fought, and she wore a steely look on her face.

He stood by, watching, with mixed feelings. That she had obviously taken her failure seriously and was trying to do something about it, he thought right and well of her. But she obviously hadn't felt comfortable going to any one in NCIS for help, and he felt unsettled that she had so little trust in any of them that she was still returning to her old Secret Service colleagues for help.

She suddenly noticed him standing there, off the side, and straightened warily. She shook hands with her friend, talking quietly with him.

The man saw him for the first time, giving him a dark look. He then grinned at Kate, said a goodbye, and headed off.

Gibbs stepped onto the mat, looking down at her. He couldn't understand why she had gone back to her old friends for help - she'd been at NCIS for a year. Didn't she trust them? "Why?" he asked quietly, in a hoarse tone.

Kate sighed, then walked past him off the mat. rip and she pulled the velcro strap holding the wrestling gloves on her hands.

"Kate."

"Who would I have gone to?" she asked shortly. "Tony? He can't take anything seriously unless somebody's actually shooting at him. Who else was there? Abby? Ducky? I don't know that many people at NCIS, Gibbs."

He didn't have the courage to ask why she hadn't asked him. He didn't want to know.

"Rick is an old friend, and his wife Deb is one of my best friends," Kate gave as an explanation. "When HE comes back" - he didn't have to ask who 'he' was - she shrugged, leaving her intentions clear but unspoken.

She picked up her bag, stuffed her things into it. "Is there a reason you're here?" she asked.

Gibbs didn't answer. He realized suddenly he hadn't had a good reason for coming out here - he had been a little worried when she hadn't answered her phone, and then the irrational panic of Ari returning and taking her again had led him to have Abby track her down so he could find her.

D-mm-t, why couldn't he deal with this like she was? She made a mistake, and now she was working steadily to fix the problem.

He hated to admit it. He was supposed to be her boss, the older, more experienced agent, and she was setting the example for him. He couldn't help it. This all-consuming rage was driving him crazy, and at some point he was almost a little bitter - but yet immensely relieved - that she hadn't gotten sucked into the whirlpool he was trapped in.

The doctor pulled the lens machine away from Gibbs' face. "It shouldn't be too bad, Mr. Gibbs," he replied cheerfully. "Your eyes aren't that bad, but enough for you to have difficulty reading smaller print and so on."

"How long for the glasses?"

"It'll take a week. Have you chosen a frame?"

Gibbs felt like an old man. He knew full well he'd be getting glasses and that he needed them, but he just didn't want to wear them. He'd worn them around Tony before, and the younger man had been wise enough to say nothing. But now...he hated to wear them around Kate. It was this irrational, juvenile impulse that she might think him old (like she didn't already), but he couldn't quash it. Tony, much to his chagrin, had obviously picked up on his reluctance now to wear them and made fun of his eyesight incessantly.

But Kate saying it was the last straw. He couldn't try to hide it from her any more - that he was basically suffering what most people his AGE - he hated the sound of it - were suffering. He'd been irritated when she'd basically said that he was blind, and had felt childishly vindicated when that bomb at Col. Ryan's had gone off.

Yet the truth of the statement was still there, and he had to admit it hurt his pride to admit he now needed them. What didn't kill one made one stronger, right?

He kept his eyes on the road, ignoring the utterly puzzled looks Kate gave him every once in awhile. This had been harder than getting those blasted glasses. At least she didn't know about those. Yet.

His utter helplessness when it came to technology had been blatantly obvious those last two cases. Abby's fast clicking had located the tea shop the terrorist had used, and she'd been off and running in seconds. Gibbs could feel his insecurities rising again at that mere remembrance.

"How long do you think it would've taken me to find the nearest tea shop?" he'd asked, almost in terror. Kate and Ducky and Gerald were being held hostage in autopsy, Gerald with a bullet in his shoulder, and his lack of ability with a...a PD...A? could have made things worse.

"An hour sooner than me?" Tony had offered as a sort of comfort, like a little kid covering up for his parent's mistake. But they both knew the truth - Tony would have found it just seconds after Abby.

Gibbs'd always thought that his learning how to use one of those handheld devices was just a waste of time; a pen and paper would be faster. Save time. Save lives.

In the days afterward, he just kept wondering what would have happened had Abby not been there with her PDA. Spotnitz had just reminded him of the conversation he'd had with Tony the morning of Gerald's shooting. McGee teaching Tony how to use a PDA. Tony teaching him.

It wasn't just the backwards part that bothered him. It was Tony.

D-mm-t, he'd never been so frustrated with his young protege, and it had nothing to do with the kid himself. Tony was so perpetually caught up in his machismo, yet he had had no problem with McGee teaching him how to use a PDA. Tony would make a better agent than he, he reminded himself viciously, for the simple reason that he was willing to admit his weaknesses and fix them.

Like Kate.

Just thinking of that again - Gibbs turned the wheel sharply, make a quick, harsh turn. Kate gave a small squeal, her feet slamming down on the car floor and both hands reaching out to the dashboard to steady herself.

So that morning Gibbs had swallowed his pride and, when Tony and Abby and Ducky had gone out to eat, he'd gotten up from his desk and crossed over to hers. She didn't look up immediately, but when he didn't budge, she looked up, slightly puzzled. He then mumbled a request to her: "I'd like to get a PDA."

She'd stared at him like he was some one-eyed alien. Unsure if she'd heard him correctly, she asked, "What?"

"I need a PDA." At least she didn't laugh. "I need you to pick one out for me. Teach me to use it." At her surprised look, he replied, "McGee's back in Norfolk. Abby's working on a case for somebody else," he added, covering his bases. They really were busy, which was why he was asking her.

Or so he told himself.

01.18 "UnSEALed"

Gibbs paused, continuing to listen to Tony's long spiel on Jack Curtin as he worked at his desk. "Tony, I'm going to need you to go - "

" - track them down and see if Curtin contacted them?" Gibbs gave him a glare. "Or I could let you finish your question."

Actually, that's exactly what he wanted Tony to do, but he wasn't going to give the younger man the satisfaction of thinking he'd been able to guess. It didn't lessen Gibbs' pride any at Tony's abilities, however. He was shaping up to be a quick-thinking agent, and Gibbs felt a small surge of pride when Tony had obviously prepared for his question about Curtin's commanders.

Gibbs flipped open his PDA, carefully holding the pen and clicking his way through the menus like Kate had taught him. "Where exactly at Little Creek?"

Tony at least had the grace not to look that shocked, and he certainly didn't ask. "Uh, there, exactly," he replied, beaming the information to him. "It's a brave new world, boss."

No joke.

"This is why they don't let women into combat," grumbled one agent, tapped to do one of the checkpoints.

Gibbs would have never chosen this idiot to work a checkpoint, but with that many people out sick, he didn't have much of a choice. Chris was working a case, and so was Balboa. He was lucky enough that McGee was available to help out with Curtin's little visit.

"Some protection job," the man was grumbling. "Todd gets assigned to protect one measly kid. Secret Service? Honestly, you have to wonder what kind of protection the president's - "

"You're just jealous," Tony retorted, defending Kate. "You're pissed because you got beat out by a new agent and a female in last month's training."

"Please," the man scoffed. "Todd has nothing on me."

"You listen to me," Gibbs replied, stepping forward until the other man was up against the wall, suddenly silent, being stared down by the angry former MP. "When you face down a Navy SEAL and win, you can open your trap."

"McGee," Gibbs barked. "I want to know what happened last night."

"Uh, OK," McGee replied, frowning. "Um, sir, I think Kate - "

"I talked to Kate and don't call me sir."

"She told me she was checking a noise in the kitchen," McGee replied. "Uh, it turned out that the boy had spilled some milk on the floor."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at that. "Spilled milk? Where was Curtin? How'd he get past all the other agents stationed along the road."

"I...don't know sir. It was dark." He paused. "About Curtin - Kate didn't say anything about him," he puzzled. "The next thing I knew I was asking for a sit rep, she wasn't responding, and when I got in she was tied up."

"He must've used Kevin as a decoy," Gibbs muttered. "All right, what then."

"We headed up to Curtin's room, Kate leading me, and we entered Kevin's room, but Curtin had gone out the window." McGee paused. "To prevent him from escaping in the car, Kate told me to radio the agents and to lie, to tell them that we'd found his vehicle."

"To make him abandon it," Gibbs concluded. "It worked."

McGee nodded. "He carjacked another vehicle passing by the house. I'm guessing Kate hit the car or him with the shotgun, because there was bloody glass on the ground. But you'll have to ask Abby about the forensic stuff."

Tony had rushed off on a date already, and Kate was doing...whatever. He ignored her less-than-furtive looks of concern at him as he adjusted the reading glasses on his face.

He tapped the last bit of information into the file Ducky had provided: Euro accent, British syntax, most likely higher education in the British Isles.

Kate picked up her coat, having turned off her computer, and looked carefully at him. He finally snapped. "What."

Kate came around to the front of his desk. "Gibbs, have you considered that maybe we won't ever see this guy again?" His head shot up at that, almost angrily, that she dared to offer that suggestion. "Gibbs, I'm just saying. You've been through that database several times already, and Director Morrow got access to the FBI's full database."

"I'm searching it again for new additions," he replied clippedly, in a tone that said that the discussion was over. He refused to allow for the possibility that he might never see that bastard again. D-mm-t, that wasn't going to happen.

"Gibbs - "

"I don't care how long it takes. I want his name," he hissed, his anger getting the better of him.

Kate flinched slightly at the tone, backing away. She drew herself up to her full height, obviously having decided to go. "Is this what you want us to remember you for?" she asked quietly, repeating his words to Curtin back to him.

He stood there, looking down at her. She took a deep breath, then carefully shouldered her purse. "Goodnight, Gibbs." She paused a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to say what she wanted to say, and then murmured shyly, "I like your glasses."

Without another word, she headed out.

"Jethro!" Ducky turned, surprised, shocked, at seeing the man standing in the doorway to the rehab room.

"Hey Gibbs," Gerald greeted with his usual grin. He wiped his forehead, and his therapist nodded and motioned for him to take a break.

"How're you doing?" Gibbs asked the medical assistant, pulling up a chair. "You going to be all right?"

Gerald nodded. "I'm fine. My brother took off a month to come live with me, and my mother's staying on." The man grumbled good-naturedly. "I've got a curfew again," he joked, and the two other men smiled.

"You going to come back?" Gibbs asked after a moment of silence.

There was a sigh, and then Gerald shrugged. "I'm still thinking about it. I want to, but Nate - my brother - and my mom aren't sure."

"And what does Dr. Nathan Jackson suggest?" Ducky huffed. "That you be a medic?" He smiled as his assistant burst out laughing. "Gerald's brother," Ducky explained to Gibbs, "is a medic and an agent with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives."

Gerald grinned. "'bout every time his team ends up on a case, one of them ends up in the hospital. Ma was so happy when I ended up working in autopsy. Nothing bad will happen there, she said."

"Ironic," Gibbs muttered.

"So what can we do for you, Jethro?" Ducky finally asked.

Gibbs paused for a moment, then leaned forward. "If you're up to it, I'd like a description of everything that happened that day."

"You know much of it," Ducky replied. "He came in in a body bag delivered supposedly by the Israeli embassy. He caught us off guard." He paused. "He was sure we had an infectious autopsy."

"He wanted us to start the autopsy, so we did. He asked for Abby to bring down the evidence, so I called her to bring it down, but she couldn't do it, so she got Kate to do it," Gerald said thoughtfully.

"We discussed phobias," Ducky recalled thoughtfully. "He has a butterfly phobia."

"Duck, we can't flood the Middle East with butterflies and pick up the one who freaks out."

"Oh h-ll," Gerald muttered, suddenly sitting up straighter. "Kate," he exclaimed, turning to Ducky. "Kate. Doc, we talked about Abby's autopsy phobia being odd since Abby was Goth," he said urgently. "He knew Abby was Goth. So when Kate came down - "

"Caitlin wore a pink sweater and a light tan leather blazer," Ducky breathed. "He would just look at her and know she wasn't Abby before she even realized he was in autopsy. Oh Jethro, I am so sorry."

Just then the phone began to ring, and then came Gerald's mother's voice: "Phone, boy!"

x x x x x

The two men sat in silence for awhile, hearing Gerald's voice in the next room. His easy-going, rich laugh filled his small apartment.

"He's dealing well," Gibbs commented.

"Better than I," Ducky murmured. "At least, appearing to be doing better than I feel I am doing." He took a deep breath and sighed. "I suppose I am fortunate he was the assistant working with me that day."

"What do you mean?"

"These string of other assistants," Ducky replied, waving his hand impatiently. "A lot of them have weak stomachs, or they're constantly tense." He paused. "I miss Gerald," he murmured. "It sounds peculiar, but he's quite grown-up for all his...for all his mp3 and video game obsessions."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, amused.

"You saw him when we loaded him onto the ambulance," Ducky said quietly. "He was calm, collected, despite his injury."

"Even with the morphine - the bastard and I shot right over him. Didn't flinch. Tony said that he wouldn't leave until he'd directed HRT to where that bastard had locked you and Kate," Gibbs replied.

Ducky nodded. "He was so adult, so composed in autopsy," the older man murmured, and Gibbs thought he looked utterly exhausted. "I don't know what I would have done without him being as calm as he was." He began to say something, then paused.

"Ducky." Gibbs looked at him. "What?"

"I think even Kate was becoming a little desperate," he said quietly. "I think she takes much of the blame for what happened, being the agent." He shook his head.

"Did something happen, Ducky?" There was no answer. "Ducky," Gibbs said insistently.

"Kate picked up one of my dissecting knives," Ducky said quietly. "She was going to stab that bastard with it." He saw the agent straighten and frown, and Ducky pointed out quickly, "She would have never suceeded - the blade was hardly long enough."

"But?"

"She hesitated - she couldn't stab him," Ducky said reluctantly. "I don't know whether to be grateful she couldn't - she is alive for not doing it - or be frightened that she hesitated."

x x x x x

Gerald laughed, trying to cheer up the woman on the other end. Kate sounded so down, so quiet - Gerald had to admit to feeling bad about even asking her whether that bastard was dead yet. Even if it had become their routine when she called or visited.

"Ducky sure wishes you back," Kate joked. "So do the rest of us."

Gerald chuckled. "I am getting bored."

Kate smiled. "Yeah." She sighed. "Don't worry, Gerald. We'll catch him. Eventually."

"I'll bet so. With all this info Gibbs is collecting, it would be impossible not to." He heard a long silence on the other end. "Kate?"

"Collecting?"

"Gibbs and Doc have been trying to put together as much as they can remember about that jerk," Gerald replied. "Well, mostly Doc remembering. We go through all we can remember about what happened."

There was a long silence on Kate's end, and then her voice, quiet and disappointed and hurt. "Gibbs has been talking to you?"

"Why, hasn't he been to you?" Gerald asked, puzzled. "Doc and I figured he'd ask you first."

"Figured wrong," Kate muttered.

TBC