Title: The Big Tease

Author: Mindy

See Part 1 for rating, disclaimer etc.

A/N: Sorry to anyone waiting on this update. I actually wrote this story a long time ago but I have been sick recently :( and totally forgot about it. Thankyou for reading everyone and especially replying. :)

Part II

"When an irresistible force such as you meets an old immovable object like me,

You can bet as sure as you live, Something gotta give, something gotta give,

Something's gotta give.

When an irrepressible smile such as yours warms an old implacable heart such as mine.

Don't say no because I insist, somewhere, somehow, someone's gonna be kissed.

So on guard, who knows what the fates have in store from their vast mysterious sky?

I'll try hard ignoring those lips I adore but how long can anyone try?

Fight, Fight, Fight, Fight, Fight it with all of our might, chances are some heavenly star-spangled night,

You'll find out, as sure as we live, Something's really gotta give."

-x-x-x-

Kate heard her cell phone trill just as she pulled up to the curb. She killed the car engine and reached into her pocket, glancing at the caller ID on the glowing display. For a millisecond, she considered not answering, just to avoid the angst, just to escape all the unanswered questions that lay on the other end of the line.

But Kate had never purposely missed a call from her boss. And she would have to talk to him again at some point. At least over the phone was somewhat less confusing, a little less confronting. She punched the answer button and put the phone to her ear, not even able to announce her name before his familiar, demanding tone came over the line.

"Where are you?" was his obligatory opening question.

Kate sighed and stepped out of her car. "Nearly home," she answered, heading down the street towards her building. "Why," she added absently: "where are you?"

"This could be the dumbest thing I've ever done," Gibbs muttered, his voice low and deprecating but she couldn't tell if he was talking to her or himself.

"What's that?" she mumbled, her brow creased at the sidewalk beneath her sore, tired feet.

Gibbs took a breath: "Look up."

At his rumbled command, Kate raised her head. As she did, a car vacated the space in front of her building and suddenly she had an unobstructed view of her boss, lounging on her front steps in his brown coat, a brown paper bag grasped in one hand and his sharp eyes turned in her direction. Even from across the street, she could see the enigmatic twinkle in their depths.

The phone at her ear went dead.

Another car whisked by in front of her, breaking their eye contact and Kate shook herself, taking a deep breath as she slowly crossed the road. She straightened her shoulders as she approached, his blue eyes running over her length with more than noticeable appreciation.

She was suddenly pleased that she'd worn the new suit. She was also overly aware of how the sleek material clinched in at her waist, modestly accentuating every curve and every movement of her hips as she walked. His cool observation caused her to feel self-conscious even of the most innocuous action like walking.

Nevertheless, she took her time in making her way to him, trying as hard as possible to hide any nervousness or confusion. The idea that Jethro Gibbs – the man who waited on no one -- had spent a decent part of the evening waiting for her at her door sent a pleasurable little zing up her spine and made her hips swing a little smugly. And the idea that he may be waiting, wanting something more than just a casual conversation between coworkers made butterflies give birth to swirl about her belly.

She raised an eyebrow as she stopped at the foot of her steps, running a casual eye over his reclining form. Slowly, she rested one arm along the upwards slant of the railing, while her other hand slipped inside her jacket, resting low on her hip. Gibbs tipped his head to one side, his eyes following the simple gesture and seeming to dare her to be the first to speak.

Perhaps he wished her to question his unexpected appearance on her doorstep at close to midnight on a weeknight. Especially since they both knew without a single word that whatever was about to occur had nothing at all to do with NCIS. Perhaps he also had been unable to dismiss from his mind their heated exchange in the squad room earlier and had come to deal, once and for all, with the unfinished business that had been lurking between them for years.

Perhaps the implacable Agent Gibbs had, at last, gotten a clue.

"You know," Kate spoke finally, her voice cool and deliberate: "You're alot smarter than you look," she told him, answering his earlier, enigmatic comment over the phone.

Gibbs glanced up at her, heaving impatiently. "You took your time," he muttered bluntly.

Kate tossed her hair over her shoulder, peering down her nose at him. "I wasn't aware I was under curfew, Gibbs," she informed him archly.

Trust Gibbs to spring this on her unexpectedly. He obviously wanted to talk to her – and not just as her boss. But the man couldn't just call her and tell her that. He had to set up an ambush -- then blame her for not being able to read his mind about his intentions.

Of course, she mused silently, if she had known he'd been waiting for her, looking unruffled yet intent, nothing could have stopped her from rushing home with her heart and mind both racing about what exactly those intentions might entail. Not that he needed to know that.

She glanced at the bottle-shaped package in his hand, looking for clues. "So, what are you doing here?" she queried lightly: "Going undercover as a hobo?"

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably on the concrete step and demanded testily: "You gonna invite me in or what?"

Kate smiled slyly, making him wait again for a moment before she silently, slowly stepped over his sprawled legs, heading for her door. She couldn't help but notice as she did that his gaze ran possessively up her ankles and calves to where her skirt lifted slightly, stretching tight over her thighs. As earlier, in the office, when they were discussing what had previously been well out of bounds, Gibbs did not seem concerned with concealing his slightly too keen interest.

She smiled to herself as she felt him get to his feet and stand a little too close to her at the door. His nearness, the presence of his breath on her neck caused her to fumble with her keys before she fit one into the lock -- the wrong one. Gibbs smiled slightly, reading her nervousness, but offering no assistance.

"By the way, Mrs McClaren says thanks for the muffins," he mumbled in her ear in a voice that was meant to sound casual but came out sounding nothing less than sinful.

Kate glanced up at him, her brow furrowed: "You met my neighbors?"

"Nice old lady," he half-answered, turning to face her and slouching against the doorframe: "We had a good chat."

Kate narrowed her eyes: "About me?"

"Well…." mused Gibbs with an evil little smirk: "mostly about your muffins."

Her eyes shot to his, her cheeks filling with color as she took in his smug expression. He seemed to find it necessary or at least highly enjoyable to forever keep her off-balance, to hold her in a perpetual state of anticipation and exasperation. She had no idea how to respond to his increased playfulness, so she turned back to the door, this time feeding the correct key into the lock.

Gibbs stood a little taller and tugged at his collar: "I think she likes me," he informed her breezily.

Kate rolled her eyes and pushed through the heavy door. "God help her," she muttered dryly.

They entered the foyer in silence, her heels clicking loudly against the tile and countering the rhythm of her thudding heart. She took a breath, pushing the elevator button and turning to face Gibbs with what she hoped was a modicum of outward poise. Gibbs mirrored her pose, standing the other side of the elevator with his shoulder leaning against the frame and one hand stuffed in his pocket. He glanced up at the numbers above the doors, watching them light up as the carriage descended.

"So how was dinner?" he murmured suddenly, his eyes returning to her face.

Kate sighed and glanced to the side. "Awkward," she admitted, hesitating before telling him: "I told Tony I loved him like a brother."

"Ouch," Gibbs winced quietly. "How'd he take it?" he asked a moment later.

Kate shrugged ruefully: "Like a man."

It hadn't taken long for Tony to sense the difference in her and, once they were seated in their usual booth at the Chinese restaurant, he'd inquired somewhat tactlessly why she was wearing her 'scrunchy face'. The look in his eyes when she'd tentatively broached the subject of their friendship only confirmed for her what Gibbs had revealed earlier.

It was not like the idea of her and Tony had never occurred to Kate. He was obviously attractive and she was pretty sure he thought she was too. They shared the same job, they were a similar age and from the beginning, they had developed a unique if, at times, exasperating rapport. She was also one of the rare women who had the opportunity to glimpse the deeper human being behind his little boy façade.

But that was where the notion lost all credibility. The idea didn't fill her with excitement or curiosity – instead, it struck her as faintly incestuous. Their relationship had never possessed that special sort of spark, that elusive magic that defies logic.

As much as she was touched by the truth of his feelings for her, she knew Anthony DiNozzo much too well to seriously consider a deeper relationship with him. They already drove each other crazy. And getting closer would only deepen the little cuts they casually inflicted on each other on a daily basis.

She and Tony were an obvious mismatch. She'd known it from their first little spat. And that undeniable logic overwhelmed any inclination she might have felt towards her charismatic colleague over the years. And there lay the ultimate difference.

She felt deeply for both Tony and Gibbs and valued their place in her life. But, in the case of Tony, sense overwhelmed any feeling. In the case of Gibbs, emotion, strong and seemingly unstoppable, overwhelmed all rationality. With Tony she was able to think straight, use her head. With his boss, she became incapable of either.

With Jethro Gibbs there was spark. With Gibbs, there was magic, excitement, curiosity, potentiality, heat. There always had been. They'd both felt it from the instant their eyes had met and, in the ensuing years, it had only grown stronger despite both of them striving to suffocate it.

The elevator dinged politely and the doors swished open. They boarded in silence, keeping a deliberate distance from each other as they simultaneously turned and leaned against the rear wall. Kate clasped her hands in front of her. Gibbs cleared his throat and the elevator hummed, beginning its ascent.

"So…." Gibbs broke the pregnant silence, his voice low and slow: "are there any other brotherly feelings….you need to," he cleared his throat again, his eyes fixed again on the ascending numbers: "….get off your chest tonight?"

She resisted the urge to smile or turn and look at him. "I think," she mused carefully: "I have enough brothers."

"Huh," Gibbs nodded as though they were discussing the ascetic design of the elevator.

The doors slid open on Kate's floor and she moved to exit but Gibbs turned towards her, grasping her elbow with one hand and stepping in so that her shoulder grazed his chest. She stayed, blinking expectantly as she turned to meet his questioning gaze.

"Fatherly feelings?" he persisted, his voice gravelly and more urgent.

Her eyes ran over his face, her body swaying slightly toward his as if magnetically drawn. As his blue eyes pinned hers, examining her face for her most honest response, without doubting she would give him one, Kate felt her entire body trembling with excitement.

No, what Jethro Gibbs inspired in her with just that low, demanding tone, just by standing that little bit too close and piercing her with those blue, inescapable eyes could never be called brotherly. Or fatherly. In fact, she wouldn't be able to locate a familial feeling right now if it entered the suddenly claustrophobic elevator and introduced itself.

Instead, her mind was full of anticipation and fire, imagining sighs and grunts, sweat and synergy, secret places and utter carnality. The lucidity and sensuality of her dream the previous night came back to her in a fast, vivid flash, surprising her and making her cheeks flush with desire.

She swallowed, taking a breath before answering breathily, boldly: "Not one."

His mouth turned up in one corner and his hand dropped from her elbow. Without backing out of her personal space, he extended his other hand, ushering her off the elevator and down the lushly carpeted hall towards her door. A car horn blared outside as they stopped at her door, penetrating their fog. It made her jump internally and seemed to mark the beginning of something new and wild and inexplicable. Gibbs stepped close again as she faced her door, keys in hand.

"Hope you like Merlot," he murmured again in that same sinful voice.

It wasn't so much what he said, but how he said it and where the words landed on her raised flesh, giving her goosebumps goosebumps of their own. His deep tone made her want to melt into a puddle of throbbing woman flesh at his feet. But that would get her nowhere.

She'd waited too long for this moment to let her rampaging hormones screw it up. She told herself that she just had to hold it together five more seconds until they could get over the threshold and then surely someone would be making a move. There certainly was no denying what was going on in both their heads.

The movie that was playing in her minds' eye made her want to hide her face from prying eyes but Gibbs seemed to be watching her over her shoulder, closely cataloguing her responses as only he could and did, even at a time like this. And while he had yet to touch her in anyway or in any place that was forbidden, the phantom heat of his body hovering closely behind hers sent vibrations of gut-wrenching desire soaring through her veins.

"I don't think I want to drink tonight," she muttered croakily, amazed that her voice even worked.

Silently, she willed her body to remain upright instead of giving in to the urge to fall back and be captured. Warmly, fiercely, completely captured by the one man who could hold her like no other ever had or probably would.

"I want to remember tonight," she added huskily, only turning to face him when the telling words were out of her mouth.

His brow furrowed slightly as he examined her face. "You won't regret it?" he rumbled, his eyes and voice giving away nothing.

"I'd regret…"she gulped, taking the risk of reaching out to touch one lapel of his jacket: "not…doing…this." She watched her fingers slip beneath the collar and shyly, very lightly smooth the thick brown material, feeling what she'd only imagined underneath was a broad, finely muscled chest splattered with silver. "What about you?" she whispered, looking up to see his eyes glowing with the simple touch of her errant hand.

He cleared his throat and leaned imperceptibly closer: "I've been regretting you for three years," he told her lowly. His eyes toured her features with a predatory glint: "I'm done now."

She smiled nervously, her hand resting more confidently on his chest: "Thank God," she breathed, rolling her eyes a little: "I thought I might have to dye my hair bright red just to get your attention."

He made a disapproving noise in the back his throat, his eyes dropping as he picked up a curl of her hair. He examined its color and texture, worrying the ends of the strands between his fingers. It sent a ticklish shiver from her scalp down her spine.

"You've always had my attention, Katie," he murmured huskily.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "You hid it well."

His eyes returned to hers, piercing and honest: "Always," he reiterated lowly.

Then his eyes dropped and before she knew it he was leaning in to claim the kiss she'd been saving for him for years -- and possibly longer. Everything grew hazy and her body went completely still, waiting for that first magic touch of his mouth on hers.

She felt his breath first, then his palm tilting her face back before his lips, hot and gentle descended on her already open and willing lips. His mouth tugged and slid, slow and confident, giving her a startling preview of what she guessed she would soon find out were a wealth of hidden talents.

His tongue traced her lower lip and touched the tip of hers but didn't venture inside. He pulled back just as a shameless whimper was building in the back of her throat. She panted softly against his mouth and opened heavy-lidded eyes to stare up at him.

"Believe me now?" he muttered, a little smug.

Kate closed her agog mouth, pursing her lips: "No," she replied archly: "But I'm sure you'll convince me."

"Count on it," he mumbled, moving in more swiftly this time so that her back landed against the door and one hand slipped inside her jacket.

She found her head tipped back against the door as he leant over her, diving into her mouth with increasing abandon. One arm banded around her waist, clutching her tightly while his free hand stole up her back, burning though the material of her thin shirt. It planted itself between her shoulder blades, firmly urging her slack body up into his. Her breasts tingled as they were crushed against his chest, her heart pounding with disbelief and arousal.

His lips broke from hers once again at the most unpredictable and heightened moment of their kiss. Kate gasped in surprise and disappointment, holding onto his big body for support. Her head lolled for a moment, her dazzled lips trying to follow his. She was starting to sense a cruel but familiar pattern in her tightly controlled boss' advances. She knew already that Jethro Gibbs was cocky, persistent and utterly irresistible.

Now, Kate was starting to think he was also a big tease.

In his seduction – like in his work – he seemed to get his thrills from skirting dangerously close to the usual boundaries, moving swiftly and boldly towards the ultimate brink -- before pulling back at the very last moment. Just like he'd done in the office that night. Just like he'd been doing to her covertly for over three years. Dangling suggestions, flaunting possibilities, extending truths but never truly following through.

Until now.

They'd overstepped a major boundary tonight and there was definitely no going back now. That did not mean, however, that Gibbs intended to quit teasing her. Apparently, he intended to wring every last erotic moment for all it was worth. And if Kate wasn't careful, she might just end up begging him to make it all end.

At least, she hoped so. It was going to be torture – in the very best sense of the word.

She squirmed in his arms, pressing her eager body closer as Gibbs' lips nibbled their way down her neck. It felt incredible to have his bulk and his smell and his moans enveloping her so completely. To have his body strain towards hers in reply. To feel him want her as intensely as she wanted him and always had. She clutched at his shoulders with both hands, her mind skipping forward to when there would be nothing separating them except a thin sheen of perspiration. Then she would really be able to feel him, every single, gorgeous part of him.

"I tell you…" he muttered roughly, tugging at her confining suit: "how incredible you look in this thing…?"

Kate would have laughed if her breath hadn't been stolen away by his teeth grazing the skin of her collarbone. "Uh…don't think so…" she murmured weakly.

"Hmmm," he hummed, his wandering hand sliding down to rest just above the swell of her ass. "First time you wore it…." he rumbled, crushing her hips into his and slowly grinding into her: "I wanted--"

Kate gasped and melted into him. He swooped again, mashing his lips to hers in illustration. The intensity of his kiss coupled with the heat their lower bodies were mindlessly generating had her both burning and liquefying at once. Her knees weakened beneath her and her hands slithered from his chest to his abdomen. She intended to push him away but her palms became so enamoured, so distracted by the feel of him that they stalled momentarily.

They seriously needed to take this out of her hallway and into the bedroom – as fast as humanly possible. She didn't even care if he finished his sentence – she got the general picture. He wanted her – and she was ecstatic. But if they didn't get inside and get naked really soon, she was afraid everything would end with a whimper instead of a bang. And she'd never be able to look Mrs McClaren in the eye again, without picturing her standing at the opposite door in her fluffy pink robe, muffin and teacup in hand and eyes wide behind her bifocals as her sexy boss drove her slowly insane against her apartment door.

Gibbs was obviously feeling the same pressure though because before she could convince her hands to push him away or her lips to say a word about the inappropriateness of their surroundings, one big paw dropped to capture hers, slipping the tightly clenched keys from her hand. She released them, not realizing they'd been digging into her palm, making a deep, sweaty imprint. His eyes and body still pinned her as he juggled the clutch of keys in his palm.

Then effortlessly, he reached behind her, slipped the key into the lock and gave a small shove. The door disappeared from behind her. Gibbs looked down at Kate, pressed so closely against his chest, then he slowly dropped the keys into the pocket of her jacket, letting his hand drift over the flank of her pinstriped hip.

"I'm sure I'll like it even better…" he told her, his voice low and deep, his eyes inspecting her crumpled clothes: "when it's on the floor."

Kate raised an eyebrow, half in challenge and half in incredulity. Gibbs was way better at seduction than she'd given him credit for, even in her dreams. After years of apparent ambivalence, he was now coming on so strong that it might prove bad for her health. He took her breath away. She was unable to breathe, move, think.

But she felt she owed it to him to be an equal opponent in this continuing dance of theirs. Taking a breath, she rolled her tongue over her lower lip and drew it between her lips. She could taste him on her swollen flesh. She could still feel the lingering heat of his touch on her hips and the delicious prickle of desire where his hard body had pressed against her so sweetly, so urgently. Summoning up the last of her self-control, she ran a hand down his arm, stealing the wine bottle from his grasp.

Then slowly, she backed inside.

Perhaps she would be needing that drink after all, she mused inwardly. She opened the door wide for him, leaning against it with her head tipped to one side. She felt loose and tousled and freer then she had in years. Dark, brown eyes gave him an avid once-over where he stood on her threshold, disheveled and expectant.

"Well," she replied with an impish smile: "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Gibbs glanced down at himself. "Careful what you wish for," he rumbled, his voice slightly dubious.

Kate cast another greedy glance over the familiar suit and long jacket he wore which would no doubt fit her bedroom floor very well. She read his doubt, however hidden he may've wanted it to be, but she didn't hesitate for a millisecond. She knew, given this chance, she would fall in love with his body because it was his and no one else's.

She'd never been with an older man before. But she didn't expect the body of a young Adonis. If that were all she was interested in, she had plenty of other options. There was no shortage of men out there who offered good looks and tight muscles -- but not what she really needed.

She'd always imagined Gibbs' physique would be more Mars, than Adonis -- the rugged and battle-worn God of War. But every warrior had his weakness. Every soldier needed a place to sleep, a soft breast to lay his head and strong arms to hold him close.

Their battle of the sexes had been waged mostly in dogged silence under a banner of evasion and misapprehension. Kate was not quite sure who had won the war -- maybe both, maybe neither. It didn't really matter because it was certainly over now. It was finally time to put aside all weapons and defenses.

Resistance was futile. It was time to make love, not war.

Kate reached out, curling two fingers into the open 'v' of Gibbs' shirt. Her fingertips grazed the soft warmth of the undershirt he always wore beneath before grasping a handful of material and gently hauling him inside her darkened apartment. He complied, moving in close and allowing his hand to slide beneath her hair to cup her head. He gazed down at her, wild eyes glinting in the low light.

"I've been careful most of my life, Gibbs," she told him quietly. She reached up, tracing his jagged jawline with her fingertips. "Let's do something really dumb," she whispered excitedly, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Gibbs smirked, pulling her into his heat. "You're on," he nodded, flinging the door shut with a definitive bang.

END.