He worries about her—even now, when she's asleep, head cushioned against his thigh and her breath slow and steady. She pushes herself hard, too hard, and she's trying to push through cracked ribs like it's child's play. Ribs she cracked taking a bullet to the vest. For him. Even if it happened three weeks ago, she didn't do herself any favors this afternoon, tackling a fleeing suspect and ending up on the ground.

"What the hell are do you think you're doing?" he had snapped at her, wrestling the suspect's arms behind the man's back and clipping the handcuffs into place before he could try to buck her off.

"Stopping him," she'd groaned. When she had tried to push herself up, she had whimpered a string of cuss words. Although Kate had resisted help, it had taken both him and McGee to get her to her feet. Her face was ashen with pain by that point, and he finally got her to admit that she was close to blacking out.

It had earned her a trip to the ER, although a call from Ducky had gotten them straight into an exam room, followed promptly by x-rays and, of all things, an ultrasound to check for injuries to internal organs. In the end, she had been diagnosed with bruised ribs and still a few smuges that indicated cracked ribs struggling to heal. They had been partly from her original injury and probably aggravated by the fall today. He had guaranteed the doctor that she would be taking a week off work. Thankfully, by that point she was so looped on the pain meds that she didn't argue back.

Unfortunately for Agent Todd, tomorrow was going to hurt. A lot. Even with a fresh pain prescription. He figured she had a few days at home before she tried to buck the system and sneak back into work early. She would give him that scowl and an impassioned list of reasons why she could handle it, and generally put on that tougher-than-nails-I-grow-what-I-need that had made him a sucker for her in the first place. Gibbs was determined he wasn't falling for it this time.

She might shut herself up in her room for a while, but he would win her back over again with some ice cream and her heating pad. The heating pad he had bought for her one afternoon when they were working a case and she was practically doubled over with cramps. She had refused to use it until he sent DiNozzo and McGee off to interview suspects. But she had finally caved, realizing that the over the counter pain reliever wasn't cutting it.

Her touch on the back of his hand drew his gaze down. She smiled up through half-lidded eyes, the smile lazy and wide. "Your hands are stong," Kate slurred slightly, smaller fingers tracing his.

"Shipbuilding does that," he answered, his own smile in his voice. She was pretty gone on these pain meds. He might have to talk to Ducky about whether or not they needed to adjust the dosage. But not tonight. Tonight he wanted her to be able to rest and mostly escape the pain. He hated seeing her hurt.

She murmured in agreement. "We should do that."

"Do what, Katie?"

"Ship. Building it. You know, building the ship. You have a ship to build?"

He chuckled slightly, adjusting the blanket that was draped around her. "I have a ship to build, but let's wait until tomorrow before we work on it again."

"It's too early to work?" she asked, blinking owlishly up at him, eyelids drooping a little more. "We should, though … build the ship … it's downstairs?" Kate started to shift a little, but his arm kept her gently pinned in place, and she didn't seem to have the energy to resist it. Nor, it seemed, did she have the will to resist the lure of the soft couch.

"Tomorrow, Kate. If you think you can handle those stairs, I'll let you watch me work on it tomorrow." No way was he going to let her try to sand or saw like this. If she didn't end up in a lot of pain from the movement, she was so out of it on this medicine she was likely to slice her hand open with one of his tools. On the other hand, she probably wasn't going to remember a word of this conversation tomorrow.

Her head nodded slightly against his thigh, olive eyes slipping shut. "M'kay … tomorrow … gonna work … ship. Work on the ship."

"Tomorrow," Gibbs soothed, his hand stroking over her dark hair. "Sleep now."

"Mkay."