Reclaiming a Lion
Disclaimer in Part 1.
They found her sitting in an ambulance, the EMTs checking her over. Gibbs stood silently as Tony and McGee and Ducky rushed over to check on her. She was fine, she said.
Satisfied, Tony began looking around. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the dead blonde. "What is she doing here?" he exclaimed. "But - "
"She's a Hamas terrorist," Kate shot at him, her tone sharp and angry. "You really know how to pick them, DiNozzo," she snapped.
Tony reeled back a little, hurt by the tone. He backed away, back to the truck and nearly bumped into Gibbs, who tilted his head at the crime scene. Chastened, Tony pulled out the kit and made his way over to the picnic table to begin his work.
"McGee," Gibbs said sharply. The younger man looked up quickly, and Gibbs tilted his head over at the crime scene. McGee nodded and hurried off.
"Who is a Hamas terrorist?" Ducky asked gently, sitting down beside Kate in the ambulance.
"You know the blonde DiNozzo was chasing at lunch today?" Kate spat. "The 'love of his life'?" she imitated snidely.
Gibbs swallowed down the bile in his throat, his sharp hearing picking up their conversation even yards away. That's why Tony had been so late.
"Oh dear," Ducky murmured. "Oh dear."
"He's so stupid," Kate ranted. "First that he/she, then a psychotic serial killing waitress, then an ATF agent guilty of dealing in illegal weapons and murder, and now a Hamas terrorist. And to think he's capable of passing on that idiocy gene!"
"Caitlin!" Ducky replied chastisingly.
"Sorry," Kate mumbled, not sounding very sorry.
Gibbs was surprised at her outburst for the mere reason that it sounded un-Kate-like; he had to admit that Tony had been making poor choices of late. That social worker Michelle whom he'd told Tony to run from sounded like an angel in comparison.
Still, Kate's tone was almost bitter.
He nodded to Ducky and left, going over to help the other two with the crime scene.
After a moment, Ducky murmured quietly, "Caitlin, what happened?"
"Nothing."
"Caitlin."
After a moment, Kate sighed, and Ducky was certain that her voice trembled slightly. "She and Ari - they threatened me. When I called Gibbs, Ari told me to tell him I had food poisoning. I wasn't going to, but then he called her out," she said softly, and her angry resolve began to crumble. "She said she'd kill Tony that night if I didn't."
"Oh Kate," Ducky breathed sympathetically. He could see all over her face her fury, her disgust, and most of all, her fear of watching her colleague. The elderly ME hadn't meant to force her to relive her emotional state at the time, but it seemed inevitable. "Kate, you can't protect Tony all the time. He's a grown adult. He has to be responsible for his own actions."
"Ducky - "
"Kate, you watch out for him like you're his mother, or his older sister. Kate, what decisions he makes - those are still his own. You can't stop him from making bad ones, Kate. You aren't his parent, and you certainly aren't the good Lord."
Ducky wrapped his arms tightly around her, hugging her tightly against him. "Caitlin," he murmured soothingly. "You take too much responsibility on your shoulders," he chastised in a fatherly, gentle tone, rubbing her back as he held the young woman against him.
x x x x x
Gibbs watched as Ducky came out of the EMT truck a little bit later, leaving Kate there, and headed over to the crime scene. "What have we here?"
"Gunshot to the head," Palmer said in an expert tone. "It seems fatal, sir."
"Does it, now," Tony replied, rolling his eyes at the dumbly official tone Palmer was using.
"Well, uh, I suppose it certainly WAS fatal, given that she is dead," Palmer replied, flustered.
Gibbs intercepted Ducky, taking him to the side. "Ducky," he said, his tone implying what exactly it was he wanted to know.
Ducky had half a mind to play the unknowing fool and force Gibbs to say that he wanted to know about Kate, but then decided against it. They were all exhausted. "She's all right," he assured the older man, and was a little gratified to see the agent's relief - albeit masked. "Besides her lip, she has not a scratch on her."
"Why didn't she call for backup?" Gibbs asked, beginning to feel his impatience rise. D-mm-t, she should not have gone off alone. She should not have -
"Jethro," Ducky replied sharply, chastisingly. "You were willing to send Tony off alone after Atlas."
"He had to call every hour! He - " Gibbs stopped when he saw Ducky's 'I'm not buying it' look. Gibbs took a deep breath and tucked away that nagging question into the back of his mind. "What about that woman?" he asked.
"You'll have to ask her about the case yourself, Jethro."
"I'm not asking about the case, Ducky," Gibbs said pointedly.
The ME paused for a moment, then realized what he was asking and nodded. "She and that bastard - they threatened to kill Tony if Kate didn't cooperate," Ducky explained quietly, and he saw Gibbs' jaw set angrily. "When she called you and lied to you about the food poisoning - she was doing it to save Tony's life."
Gibbs ran a tired hand through his hair. No wonder Kate had lashed out at Tony like that - he would have had a good mind to do the same if put into that position - having to decide between maintaining national security and cooperating with a terrorist to save af friend's life.
"There's another matter," Ducky said quietly. "She didn't know until she made that first phone call, until after the...Hamas terrorist was shot." He paused a minute, then looked at Gibbs carefully. "That bastard is Mossad. He's not a terrorist. He's undercover."
Gibbs looked up instantly.
The Secret Service agents had barely gotten the arrestees out of car when Gibbs descended on them, furiously. McGee watched in shock as he grabbed one of the Hamas men and slammed him against the side of the car. The man was shouting, as were the Secret Service agents, but despite the noise, McGee could hear every little hiss coming out of Gibbs' mouth.
"Who. Drove. The. Car!" he demanded, and there were some low statements made in Arabic.
The NCIS agent with them translated: "Bassam. The third man from the right," he replied, innocently unknowing of what was going to happen.
Gibbs had barely reached the man when he swung, the round-house blow sending the man reeling backwards into the two Secret Service agents standing behind him. There was shouting as Gibbs hauled him up, and Bassam spat out of a busted lip, "Who are you?"
"Gibbs!" he hissed, picking him up by the collar and shoving him against the car.
"Colombian drug dealers, Mark?" Morrow snorted derisively.
The Secret Service director looked a little miffed. "That's what my agents have suggested." At Morrow's less than satisfied look, the director huffed, "It works as a cover story, Tom."
"He shot two of my people," Morrow replied. "He held two others hostage, one twice."
"I lost agents too, Tom," the FBI director retorted. "One dead, three wounded. Have you forgotten?"
"Why, did you?" Morrow snapped back coolly. The man recoiled a little on screen.
"What we want," the CIA director cut in, "is for your assurance that when Ari gets his get out of jail free card, that you won't send your agents after him."
Morrow didn't answer.
"Tom, we need Ari Haswari," the CIA director pointed out. "You know that. You know that he had something to do with providing us the information we needed for November 2002 - " he left the event unstated, knowing well the NCIS director would know what he was talking about " - following the USS Cole bombing. He's valuable."
"My agency will not look for Officer Haswari," Morrow promised.
The other directors nodded, obviously relieved.
"We have one concern," the FBI director finally spoke.
Morrow raised an eyebrow, a smirk growing on his face. He was well aware what that 'one concern' was. "Yes, Charlie?"
"We want your promise he won't go after Ari. We want your promise he'll forget about Officer Haswari - Gibbs would blow his cover."
Morrow just chuckled and took a sip of his coffee.
"We want you to talk to him," the Secret Service director replied.
Morrow just snorted. "No, I will not."
"Tom!"
"I have given you my promise that NCIS will not pursue Ari Haswari," Morrow replied coolly. "But he still shot two of my people and kidnapped two others - including one of my agents, twice. If I have little sympathy for him, I think that's to be expected."
"Agent Gibbs will obey you," the FBI director replied, leaning forward. "Tom, you are the director of NCIS! Tell him to leave Haswari alone."
Morrow gave him a pointed look. "Charlie," he replied, seemingly answering just the other man but meaning it to refer to all of them, "I don't ask of my agents things I am entirely unwilling to do myself."
The TV blared in the dark basement, filling the quiet in the room. "A shoot-out today in Great Falls National Park between FBI agents and alleged Colombian drug dealers led to the deaths of three suspects and the wounding of two agents. One suspect is reported to have escaped on foot and a widespread manhunt is underway throughout the park."
Gibbs was sardonic. "Suspected drug dealers, huh? Whose idea was that?"
"Secret Service," Fornell replied. He had to admit, he was unimpressed, too, when his boss had told him.
"They give Ari his 'get out of jail for free' pass, too?"
There was no missing the bitterness in Gibbs' tone. "No," Fornell replied mildly. "CIA did that. But all the directors agreed, even yours," he added pointedly.
Getting no response, he continued, "Ari's father was Mossad. Probably knocked his mother up to get a son with Arab blood. Sent him to medical school to vet him as a doctor in Gaza. This guy's been a sleeper his entire life." Fornell had to admit, he was impressed with the preparation that they'd taken to make a mole in a terrorist group.
"I'd love to put him in a coma," Gibbs muttered, continuing to sand vigorously.
Little wonder. Ducky had accompanied Kate to the hospital, and Fornell had to admit surprise when Gibbs had left the cleaned up crime scene and evidence with Agent DiNozzo and that newbie, McGee. He'd disappeared, and Fornell had assumed that he'd gone to the hospital to check on Agent Todd.
Fornell's agents tracking Gibbs' cell phone indicated he'd gone home.
There was little that surprised the weathered FBI agent, but this had to be one of them. He'd tried the door, found it to be open, and came inside; he'd followed the sound of insistent banging into the basement, where, in all honesty, Fornell wasn't sure he was building or tearing apart the boat. Either way, working on a boat after what had happened...?
'Well,' a little voice had commented. 'There was nothing more he could do.'
Fornell knew Gibbs. The man was a control freak. Being out of control no doubt frightened him, if the man could be frightened, and he had no doubt that the day had been like Gibbs' worst nightmare come true. Talk about having no control whatsoever; Ari Haswari had dictated every move, with Kate Todd responding and redirecting, and all Gibbs had been able to do was stand to the side.
It was little wonder Gibbs wanted to kill Ari, but he'd been asked by his director to prevent that. "Tom won't do it," his director had said, referring to Gibbs' boss. "He refuses to do it; he's as mad as Agent Gibbs is. You're our next best choice."
'No,' Fornell had thought. 'Kate Todd would be the best choice. She could get him to stop.' But he doubted that either Todd or DiNozzo would agree to speak to Gibbs about it, particularly after their level-headed director had apparently displayed to all the other agency directors his own desire to kick Ari's butt.
So here he was. Trying to convince Leroy Jethro Gibbs not to seek out revenge against the man who'd shot one of his guys, shot him, and kidnapped his people. "Al-Qaeda funded this Hamas op," he began. "Ari was just doing what he had to do to make his bones with them. "
"You tell that to Gerald," Gibbs snapped. Yeah, he hadn't forgotten.
"You forget I lost a man and had three wounded," Fornell retorted, beginning to lose his patience somewhat.
"No," Gibbs replied in a biting retort, turning to the man standing next to him. "but it seems you did," he snapped, his director's words coming out of his mouth.
Fornell flinched slightly at the hurtful comment. "You know better than that."
"There's a line, Tobias. That bastard crossed it!" Gibbs replied, gesturing. "You don't make your bones shooting friends!" Gibbs exclaimed.
Fornell could feel his own anger - directed at Ari - rising. He knew exactly how Gibbs felt. He'd lost agents - he was no less likely to forgive Ari for that than Gibbs was. But national security called for it, and he couldn't exchange that for his agents' lives. "What do you want us to do?" Fornell shouted, his own frustrations coming to the fore, and for a moment he was wondering if he was trying to convince Gibbs or himself. "He's inside Al-Qaeda now! "
"I don't know!" Gibbs yelled, slamming his hands against a rib of the boat in frustration. A small whirlwind of dust went up.
The two men stood quietly, Gibbs' last statement hanging in the air between them. There was nothing they could do. They'd sworn to protect their country - not to put their agents' lives over the safety of the civilians. The quandary Fornell had presented - they needed Ari - still didn't counter the emotional response Gibbs had voiced for the both of them.
They'd had their conflicts, but in that moment, both men fell quiet, for the first time reaching a mutual understanding.
Fornell coughed. "How the h-ll do you breathe in all this dust?" he muttered, changing the subject.
"I don't," Gibbs replied.
"You got anything to wash it down?" Fornell asked. Preferably something with alcohol. Strong.
"On the top shelf, next to the paint stripper."
Fornell moved over to that shelf, pulling down the bottle. He nearly snorted in laughter - how Gibbs. Antiquated. "Who drinks bourbon anymore?" he asked, amused.
"I do," Gibbs replied grumpily, obviously catching Fornell's 'antiquated' implication.
"Got a glass? "
"Use my coffee mug," Gibbs muttered, working again.
Fornell picked up the mug and blew the dust out of it, then poured some bourbon in. "What about you? " he asked, raising the mug to his mouth.
"I use my coffee mug," Gibbs replied, taking the mug. "You go upstairs and get a glass or" he indicated the bottle "drink out of the bottle."
"What the h-ll," Fornell replied and took a swig. "I see why you keep it with the paint stripper," he managed to gasp out hoarsely.
"It's 125 proof. You sip it, Fornell," Gibbs replied, going back to his sanding.
There was quiet for a little bit, and then Fornell inwardly sighed. He still had yet to secure Gibbs' word that he wouldn't hurt Ari - what all the directors had asked him to do.
D-mn, this job sucked.
Fornell picked up a stool and set it down by the boat before sitting down. "The directors want your word that you'll forget about Ari," Fornell said quietly. "They think you'll blow his cover."
Hey, he knew Gibbs well enough. Gibbs wouldn't endanger national security for the purpose of getting payback. He'd find some other way. But whatever he believed, he still had to repeat to Gibbs what the directors wanted him to say.
"If I get payback, it won't be by blowing his cover," Gibbs replied, confirming Fornell's thoughts. After a pause, he asked with slight amusement but definite puzzlement, "Why are you asking me this and not my director?"
"He refused to," Fornell replied. Smart man. No wonder Gibbs followed him, learned from him. Morrow wasn't going to ask something of Gibbs that he personally was not excited about doing himself.
"Yeah," Gibbs chuckled, sanding a couple times. "All right, one condition," he acquiesced, standing up to face Fornell.
"There's always one condition," Fornell muttered.
"I want to speak to him, in a place of my choosing...alone."
He might as well have just asked if he could blow up the moon. "Nobody's going to go for that. "
Gibbs smiled to himself as he went back to his sanding. He didn't need the directors or any other person to agree. He just needed the one. "Ari will."
He emerged from the elevator, the gun he'd just shot Ari with back in its holster as he came into the bullpen. His rage was no less, and the temporary satisfaction of revenging himself on Ari had worn off in those mere seconds on the elevator.
Kate was sitting in her chair, wrapped in a blanket, writing calmly. Tony and McGee both hovered awkwardly at the desks opposite his and hers, giving her worried looks every couple of minutes. Ducky met him before he entered their office area. "Shock," he answered Gibbs' unvoiced question. Gibbs nodded, and Ducky said quietly, "Director Morrow wants to see you."
Gibbs took one last look at Kate, then headed up the stairs towards MTAC and the director's office. At the balcony above, he saw the director leaning over the railing, watching his team with a concerned, protective expression. "Sir."
Morrow looked up at him, and Gibbs watched as the director gave him an appraising look, and then his expression changed into one of reluctant disapproval.
For the first time all day, Gibbs felt like a first-grader squirming in the seat outside the principal's office. He wasn't stupid. Morrow seemed to know what he'd done. D-mn, just like he'd seen through Gibbs's statement that he'd gotten Kate to cooperate on Air Force One...
Morrow sighed and shook his head but said nothing, then returned to his position leaning over the railing. "I'm giving you and your team off the next week," the man finally said. "You've had a long day."
Gibbs nodded.
"Make sure Agent Todd gets home safely. If she wants, the NCIS psychiatrist will be available to speak with her." After a pause, he added firmly: "and you, too."
Morrow stood now, and Gibbs straightened to face him. The director gave him a pointed look. "Agent Todd," he said carefully, "may have made a mistake today in not calling for back-up. She, however, took the course of action that I believe any of us would have taken, refusing to pass up a good opportunity."
H-ll, Gibbs thought. He wasn't planning on yelling at her for that.
All right, maybe he was. Guilt washed over him. His nearly insane fear of her getting hurt had gotten in the way of his rational thought, and he had to admit, if it had been him, he would've gone running after Ari without a second thought. He'd sent Tony after Sacco alone, too, albeit with hourly phone checks, but still alone. Kate was no different. She'd done what anybody would have done.
He huffed a little, not wanting to concede that point to the voice of rationality - which, unfortunately for him, right now came in the form of his director.
The corners of Morrow's mouth twitched, and Gibbs thought grumpily that he wasn't sure he liked having a director who knew him so well.
"Agent Todd," Morrow continued, more sharply this time, "has also taken a well-balanced, professional view of the Ari Haswari matter." He looked at the other man steadily. "I think we all do well to learn her emotional balance in handling her work."
Gibbs nodded, duly chastised. He understood the pointed reprimand behind that comment. He'd been a little...insane about the whole thing.
The two men watched as McGee entered the bullpen, carrying a coffee, and nervously mumbling something as he set it on Kate's desk and retreated quickly. Kate looked up, eyes clear, and gave him a small thank you.
He could see the nervous little smile McGee gave back.
Gibbs swallowed, his mind tracing over the events of the day. The nightmare, and the lingering panic that had gripped him in his unsettled feeling that Kate was dead - resulting in his subsequent explosion at McGee and Abby over the search when they were trying to explain to him how long it would take to find that bastard.
He had felt himself slowly descend back into his fury throughout that day. Every time he came to the bullpen - every time he came hurrying back to see if Kate were there, she was gone, and he could feel his frustration returning. The more they searched for Ari, the less Kate was there; he'd told Tony that he wanted Ari's name, and he wanted it today, but getting it hadn't made him any better. He'd only gotten more agitated, and he'd reached for her, and she hadn't been there.
She was just...not there. When he needed her to be.
Once they'd gotten Ari's name, Gibbs had ordered Tony to the elevator - they were going to find Ari. After they found Kate.
Tony had stood there, looking puzzled but following him obediently. He didn't blame the younger man for his confusion: they had just found out Ari's identity, and Tony would naturally assume they would go after Ari, particularly since Gibbs was so sure that he was stateside and not in the Middle East. Yet, oddly, Gibbs was obsessed with finding Kate.
Tony looked at him puzzledly. "Kate's at home, boss." Gibbs had heard the implication. 'She's sick, boss. Couldn't we leave her to get better? Do we have to drag her on this? We can handle this. Let Kate rest. She's PUKING HER GUTS OUT, boss. Have a heart.'
Gibbs wasn't there to force an ill Kate to help for the hunt. He wasn't there to force her to work. He needed to see her, to reassure himself. He needed to see her, to ground himself before he went crazy. She didn't answer her phone, and Gibbs was beginning to fear that she hadn't gotten food poisoning, and his worry about where she was had mixed with his desperate need to hold on to her, however briefly, before he drowned in his anger.
And then Tony had unknowingly informed him with that tuna comment that Ari had Kate.
Gibbs stood next to the director, looking down into his bullpen, trying to assure himself that she was all right and sitting in her desk, afraid that if he turned away, he'd turn back to find himself staring at her empty chair, as he had that afternoon.
Morrow finally spoke, his voice much softer now as it broke through Gibbs' thoughts. "I just hope this matter is over for now," he said, and for the first time Gibbs heard the fatigue in his voice over the Haswari case. "Make sure Agent Todd is taken good care of. She's a valuable asset to this agency, and I think to your team."
The last time he had spoken to her was that morning. That morning, 8.13 AM. He knew exactly what had happened: he had probed her about that terrorist - he refused to call him anything else - and then they had taken their separate cars to work. They'd gone through the turnstile, through security, greeted Henry, who had this little gleam in his eye at seeing them arrive together. They had gone upstairs in the elevator, walked out to the bullpen, put their things down. They hadn't said a word to each other.
Then all he'd said was, "I'm going to talk to Bahrain and then Director Morrow." It was the last thing he'd said to her.
He'd been up there all day, then gone down to Abby's lab, and when he came back up Tony and Kate were gone - gone to lunch with Ducky, McGee had said. Then Ducky came back, Tony came back, and Kate didn't.
He called, and she didn't respond.
He called again, and got her home answering machine.
He called again, and got her voice mail.
Then she called once, used the newest rule she had learned - #7 - and he fell for it hook, line, and sinker. The nightmare, the gut which told him Ari was in the U.S. - nothing told him she was lying. Nothing. She had even tried to clue him in to her "illness", making that out of place reference to oysters, apparently hoping that he'd say something about her food poisoning and then either Tony or Ducky would point out that that's not what she had. He'd been too consumed by Ari to think about it. He'd felt nothing - nothing until Tony corrected his offhand statement about what Kate said she ate. Kate had tuna salad, not oysters. It had taken Tony's unknowing reply before he realized something was wrong.
Then it was hours...
Fornell was trying to hold back the FBI and the CIA, forbidding them to interrogate Kate too harshly. Agent Baur was there, and he was helping. It could have been because of their own concern for Kate, or because of the obvious anger her boss and her boss' boss was emitting, or both.
"I think this interrogation has come to an end," Director Morrow finally said, his cold, sharp tone brokering no argument.
The agents looked up, wanting to argue, but Director Morrow simply looked back at them, his arms still crossed. The other FBI, CIA, and Secret Service agents looked back at Kate for a moment, then at Morrow, then at Kate, then began silently to pack up and go.
Fornell chuffed under his breath in amusement, "Pretty clear where those cowboys get their chutzpah."
Morrow didn't move until all the agents were gone but his two and Agents Baur and Fornell. "Well, gentlemen, I doubt you expected to be back here so soon," he said, his voice now conversational, slightly amused.
"A little bit of deja vu," Baur replied with a small chuckle. "Kate." He sat down across from his former junior agent, looking at her with fatherly concern. "You OK?"
Kate straightened, and nodded, and Fornell could see the pride in her ex-boss' face. She was firmer, stronger, hardier now than she had been at the Secret Service, and she'd already been a brick wall when Fornell had first met her on Air Force One, a tough agent who had dispelled any doubts of somebody as young as she on the presidential detail.
She'd grown in the one year here at NCIS - maturing many years beyond her age in just the few months between the Col. Ryan case and this one. Fornell doubted she could have grown like that under Agent Baur, as capable an agent as he was. Baur was a calm, collected agent; he could only teach by example.
Gibbs was brilliant; smarter, more creative, more capable, trickier... But he had nowhere the emotional grounding Baur did. He was desperately different. Todd had matured to the level of somebody much older than her age, not because she had a good example to follow but because she needed to grow up fast to deal with her circumstances - because Gibbs needed her to.
Because Gibbs needed her.
Gibbs tried not to look at the angry, brutal broken lip as Agent Balboa drove them home. There was complete silence in the car except for the radio, which Balboa had thankfully put on - low - to fill the silence.
After her outburst at Tony, Kate had become frighteningly quiet. She had been quiet when the EMTs checked her over one last time and released her. She had been quiet when she identified Marta's body. She had been quiet when they had taken that bastard away. She had been quiet on the ride back to headquarters. She had been through the interrogation, answering only in clipped tones. She was quiet now.
Once at her home, she had followed him quietly up the stairs to her apartment, unlocked the door, and changed out of her suit - the creamy white suit that had made her look so alive, so sharp, feminine, but professional that morning. Now it just hung sadly on her, its cheery tone and aura totally unfitting of a woman who had been kidnapped, nearly killed, and had stood her ground to protect the president.
She didn't need coffee, but he did. He made her instead a cup of hot chocolate, steaming and dark with hot milk, and brought it into her. She sat huddled in a large comforter, sitting on her bed, and for the first time Kate didn't look the formidable Secret Service - turned - NCIS agent who had sat there, pissing off Hamas terrorists and watching a woman get shot before her, standing up to clamoring agents from every agency in the U.S. and then some.
He handed her the mug silently, and she took it gratefully, warming her hands on it. He sat in the chair across from her, watching as she tried to sip the drink.
They sat there, in complete silence, for ten, fifteen, twenty minutes...and then the tears began to fall. She wasn't sobbing, but the tears just fell down her face - exhaustion, frustration, anger, sadness - but mostly just exhaustion.
He paused for a moment, not sure what to do, and Kate was busy trying to hide her tears, wiping away impatiently the tears as fast as they came.
He took the mug from her and set it on the nightstand. He slipped his arms around her, and she collapsed on his shoulder as he tightened her hold on her. She kept crying, the hot, salty tears wetting his shirt. He just held her, and he could feel her energy, her resolve all drain right out of her. She leaned on him, her weight just dumped against him, and for the first time since this mess had begun, she depended on him to be the emotionally stable one, not vice versa...and he was grateful she trusted him to do that for her.
"Katie," he whispered, the first thing he'd said to her all day since that morning.
END