Shortly after Mario and Rebecca had married, they’d pooled their considerable savings for a down payment and bought what almost amounted to a mansion. Four bedrooms upstairs, plus a fully developed basement, huge kitchen and family room, gas fireplace, large picture windows, massive backyard, and even (Tony had teased his brother about it for weeks) a small glassed-in sunroom accessible from the house for growing plants. At the time, Tony had thought them insane, and had told them so on many occasions. But three years after they’d bought the place, he’d found himself a guest in it, and he hadn’t laughed after that. Even now, with two small children, the house was spacious, organized, and above all, a home.

His favourite spot to sit while he’d been camping out in their guestroom had been the greenhouse. Day, night, it hadn’t mattered. Between the two of them, Mario and Rebecca had made the sunroom into an adult haven. Plants were tastefully arranged on multi-level Victorian plant stands, with a workbench for repotting and other tasks set unobtrusively against the house. There was also a park bench set along one glass wall, and a small bistro set took centre stage. Tony had always sat on the park bench, looking around at the greenery, or just listening to the outside world, almost unrecognizably muffled by the panes of glass.

That’s where he was now: sitting on the park bench in the dark, the only light coming from the closed glass doorway into the house. Kate was inside with Rebecca, probably helping her put Melisande and Minuet to bed. Mario had had a couple of messages when they’d come back, something to do with volunteering for Mel’s kindergarten class. So Tony had quietly put his suitcase in the guestroom, and then come out here.

Why was he here? Was it because of Annette? He’d felt her hold on him diminishing ever since Kate had completely destroyed her. She and Julio had left shortly after dessert. Tony had shaken her hand, and said goodbye. And that had been it. There had been finality in the gesture, and now he was done. He had needed to confront her, should have done it a long time ago, but he wasn’t entirely convinced it would have worked alone. It had worked today because Kate had been there.

Kate. He had never truly appreciated her before tonight. He’d known she was a good agent, a quick learner, a caring woman, a beautiful woman, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever really seen her before. Good Lord, the things she’d done, things she’d put up with from his family, and from him… Although, she hadn’t seemed to mind kissing him. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Kinda nice. He’d shown her. He dwelled on the moment for a while, remembering the way she’d tasted, the way she’d felt against him, even through his jacket, her response…

He shook his head as the memory became a little too real, and he clenched his fists, digging his fingernails into his palms to drive away the pleasant sensations. That’s enough, DiNozzo, he thought. Kate’s a coworker. Nothing more.

Nothing more? a rebellious part of his mind countered, and brought back the memory with even more clarity.

Tony shifted on the bench, and he spread his hand over his mouth, trying to press away the remembered feelings. Think about Gibbs, he thought, his mind alighting on the first thing that might cool his reaction. Think about how he’d kill you if he knew you were thinking this.

It didn’t help. Flashes of the evening began to run through his head: Kate holding his hand during Grace; talking to his father about places she’d visited in Italy; impressing his brothers with anecdotes from being on the President’s detail; taking ten minutes to say goodbye to his mother as he stood waiting by the door; storming out to the deck after tearing Annette apart. He saw her offering an anniversary toast to his parents when the port glasses had arrived, and helping Elena get her boys into their jackets with patience and good humour, and waving goodbye to his family as they’d pulled out after Mario’s car. But always, underlying all the images, was the feeling of her warm against him after Annette had struck him to the bone, her physical presence all throughout dinner, and her lips, warm, strong, responding, in the chill of the autumn night.

No, he thought. This isn’t real. She just helped… repair what Annette broke. That’s why I’m reacting this way. That’s all. It’s not fair to her; she’s just the first warm body to come along. He gave the statement a little time to absorb, to see if it would make any difference. It did, but not in the way he’d expected. More images and thoughts came to him: watching Kate work at her desk after being taken hostage the first time, worrying; making sure, in his own way, that she learned everything she needed to know about the details of a case; brainstorming sessions over dinner where they talked about Gibbs and his obsessions. He pushed his fingers roughly into his hair and leaned over, elbows on his thighs, trying desperately to find defenses against what his brain was telling him. But there weren’t any. She wasn’t just a warm body. There was groundwork here, threads of feeling and relationship that had been forming without his knowledge, just waiting for him to let go of Annette to come to the forefront. He liked Kate Todd. He was attracted to Kate Todd. He felt things for Kate Todd that went beyond the superficial that had been his salvation for the last five years. This was startling. This was amazing.

This was terrible.

First, there was the absolute certain fact that Gibbs was going to kill him. Kate was right; their boss did love them, in his own way, but if he even caught a hint that Tony could hurt Kate, Tony’s life was practically forfeit. He didn’t know how or why Kate had got under Gibbs’ skin right away, but she had, and Tony had been careful not to go too far in his teasing or face his boss’ wrath. Second, Kate deserved much, much better than to be a rebound relationship for him, and there was no certainty that that wasn’t what she’d be. She was right; for five years, he’d been with a black book full of women for a maximum of three weeks at a time. His first real relationship after Annette would be fraught with difficulties and troubles, and he didn’t think it was particularly fair to Kate to have brought about the change in him and then have to work through all the setbacks as well.

And then, of course, he had to consider the fact that she absolutely, positively, without a doubt, didn’t feel the same way about him. No, sir, no chance. Not a one…

Oh yeah? he heard the little voice say. Suddenly he was seeing Kate again: pulling away from him with a hint of reluctance and fixing his hair, looking down on him with such concern; angry beyond control on the porch swing, ready to bite the head off of anyone who came near her; communicating with only subtle gestures throughout the evening; blushing when he kissed her; almost falling when he let her go.

Well, maybe a small chance then.

Fuck.

But even with that objection possibly negated, there were still two extremely strong ones for not acting on what he was feeling. So there was no other option, really. He just had to bury it all away, and never let her see it. He had to be mature, and strong, and self-controlled.

I am so screwed.

The sound of the door to the house sliding back brought his head out of his hands, and he looked up to see Mario lean out the door into the sunroom. He held a familiar-looking bottle, and cocked an eyebrow. Tony nodded, and raised two fingers. Mario nodded back and disappeared into the house. Tony leaned back on the bench and tried to tie all his emotions up before his brother could read them on his face. Mario came back out, two bottles in one hand and one in the other, and slid the door closed before crossing the sunroom towards Tony. He handed the pair of bottles to him, then pulled one of the bistro set chairs out, turned it around, and straddled it, facing his brother. Tony set one bottle of beer on the ground, and opened the other. Mario reached his own bottle out, and they clinked them together before each taking a drink. Tony let the bitter alcohol sweep the dryness of his mouth away, and swallowed. “Thank God Rebecca’s Canadian,” he said.

Mario chuckled. “We just made another run north of the border, or all I’d have to offer you is the, ahem, ‘piss-poor excuse for beer you Yankees drink.’”

Tony laughed and took another drink. “She always was a beer snob.”

Mario nodded, and they sat in companionable silence for a while. “You okay, Tony?” Mario said finally.

“Yeah, I…” But the response was automatic, and not particularly truthful, so he didn’t finish it. He sighed and shook his head. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

Mario nodded. “Wanna work it through?”

Tony was tempted. His older brother usually had good advice and perspective. But telling him would mean revealing that he and Kate weren’t actually dating. Silently, he shook his head.

Mario shrugged and took another swig. “Suit yourself. Wanna know what I think?”

That damned DiNozzo tenaciousness. Oh well. He gestured for Mario to continue.

“I think you’ve let what happened with Annette colour your relationships, even the more serious ones, for too long, and now that you’ve finally seen her again, and confronted her, and made some sort of resolution with her, all those preconceptions are falling away. So you’re sitting here surprised at how deep you let Kate get to you without you knowing about it, and wondering what to do about it now.”

Tony stared at his brother. “Well, thanks, Doctor Phil.”

Mario smiled wryly. “Hey, I’m raising two daughters, man. I’m learning to ‘get in touch with my feelings.’” They sat quietly for a while, nursing their beers. “So how close did I get?” Mario asked.

“Close enough,” Tony replied. “That’s why I needed two of these.” He finished off his first beer and opened his second.

“I figured. Look, Tony, I’m not going to tell you what to do. But it’s pretty obvious to me that Kate really cares about you, and you really care about her. What would be so bad about telling her that?”

Tony shook his head again. “It’s complicated, Mario. I wish I could say more than that, but I can’t. Not now, anyway.”

His brother accepted the caveat with a nod. “All right, Tony. You know where I am. Wanna talk about my problems now?”

Tony laughed. “All right,” he said. “Let’s talk about your problems.”

“Actually, it’s more like your problem.”

“A mutual problem? We haven’t had one of those in years, Mario. What possible problem could you have that will affect me?”

“Rebecca and I are trying to get pregnant again.”

“Again?”

Mario nodded. “One more,” he said.

“Good for you. You’re such a great dad.”

“Thanks. And you’ll be such a great godfather.”

Tony froze with his beer bottle almost at his mouth. “What?” he asked, lowering it back down.

“Godfather,” Mario repeated. “Rebecca and I have talked it over, and we want you to be the new baby’s godfather.”

“You’re not serious, right?”

“Of course I’m serious. See what I mean that this might be your problem too?”

Tony leaned forward and rubbed at his forehead. “Jesus, Mario, did you have to throw this at me today?”

“Unfortunately, Rebecca has this thing about not asking such questions over the phone, and it’s been over a year since we’ve seen you. It was either now, or we take a special trip out to see you when we’re planning things.”

“I can’t be… You really don’t…”

“You can, and yes, we really do. Just think about it, okay? If you really don’t want to, we’ll accept that. But I think you’ll be a great godfather.” He stood up and returned the chair to the bistro set, then picked up Tony’s empty. “Come inside when you’re finished with all your deep, angst-ridden thoughts.”

Tony took a powerless swing at him, but his brother danced out of the way with a grin, and went back inside the house. Tony sighed and took another drink. The beer was giving him a pleasant, numbing buzz, but that didn’t stop his thoughts from shooting off wildly in all directions. Kate. Godfather. Kate. Godfather.

He was getting such a headache.

The bottle was empty and he was picking at the label when the door opened again, and he looked up to see Kate come through and slide it closed behind her. She looked around, and her face lit up with a smile. “This place is great.”

“My favourite part of the house,” Tony agreed.

“I can see why.” She walked slowly around the perimeter, her hands trailing lightly over the greenery, occasionally stopping to examine or smell a flower. Tony watched her, trying not to notice the curve of her waist, or the beatific expression she got when she found a flower whose scent she liked. With some effort, he tore his eyes away from her and concentrated on his bottle, his fingers pushing at the condensation-softened label. He was still distractingly aware of every move she made.

Finally, she’d made the circuit, and sat down next to him on the bench, close, but not touching him. She put her hands under her knees and rocked back and forth slightly a few times. “You made me a promise,” she said.

“I did?”

“You promised you’d be back to normal by Monday. Are you still going to be able to do that?”

“I’ll try.”

“I made a promise too.”

“You did?”

“I promised I’d get you through this weekend and back to normal by Monday. So tell me what to do, Tony. It’s not just about Annette anymore, is it?”

He took a breath, but the saner, not intoxicated part of his brain shut down his vocal chords before he could say anything. He suddenly realized that the beer probably hadn’t been such a good idea, especially if he was going to keep himself under control. He cleared his throat. “Mario and Rebecca want to have another kid.”

“I know. Rebecca told me.”

“Did she tell you that they want me to be the godfather?”

She was quiet. “Don’t you want to be?”

“You know what I’m like, Kate,” he said. “I can’t have their kid looking up to me.”

“Why not?” she asked. She began ticking points off on her fingers. “You’re in law enforcement. You have a very firm code of ethics. You care about your friends. You have a great sense of humour.”

Using the bottle, he began to tick off counterarguments. “I sleep around. I have commitment issues. I don’t go to church and don’t actively practice Catholicism. I have problems with authority.”

Her hand covered his, stopping him from making any further rebuttals. “Tony, they wouldn’t have asked you if they didn’t know all that.”

“It’s ‘cause of you,” he accused, finally looking at her, and speaking before he could censor the thought. “They think that I’m settling down. This is all your fault!”

Anger flashed in her eyes, and she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled until their faces were inches apart. “Listen, DiNozzo. I’ll take a lot from you, but that’s over the line. I came out here this weekend to help you. You needed the settling-down pressure taken off of you; I did that. Maybe you didn’t need me as much to hold your hand as to be a catalyst with Annette. That’s fine; I did that too. But don’t you dare think that just because we’re playing this role that Mario and Rebecca don’t know who you are. Do you really think it was a split-second decision to ask you to be their kid’s godfather? They planned to ask you before they even knew about me. So you know what? You can take your self-pity and shove it. Don’t belittle your family that way, don’t belittle me, and don’t belittle yourself.”

She was right. He knew it and she knew it, and he was sure she could read his acceptance of that in his eyes, even in the dim light of the sunroom, but she didn’t let go. He could feel her breath on his face. The beer had definitely been a bad idea. She was so close, close enough that it wouldn’t take much to– No! He was supposed to be the responsible, informed one here. But it was so tempting. He caught a just a hint of the perfume she’d put on that morning, and it nearly undid him. He could say he thought he’d seen Rebecca or Mario by the door; she’d buy that, wouldn’t she? But that was deceitful; he couldn’t…

Her expression shifted, confused now, and her fingers loosened. With a display of emotional strength that surprised him, he pulled back from her and moved his gaze away. He set his empty bottle on the ground and sat back on the bench, not looking at her. “I’m sorry, Kate,” he said. “You’re right.”

She was quiet, and he prayed that she would just go, just leave him alone so he could regain some equilibrium. But she continued to sit there, finally relaxing back into the bench. “All right then,” she said. “Now that we have that straight, what else is going on?”

Bloody hell, she was as bad as… a DiNozzo. “Nothing.”

“I didn’t believe that yesterday, and I don’t believe it now, Tony.”

“Then can you believe that I don’t have words to talk about it right now?”

She sighed, and then she shifted over. He twitched, arm automatically rising as she pressed up against his side. Her head came to rest against his shoulder, and her hand took up residence on his waist, just above the band of his pants. She squeezed him a little, and as his arm dropped slowly of its own accord across her shoulders, she said, “That I’ll believe.”

He shouldn’t let her do this, he told himself. He should keep her as far away from him as physically possible until he was sure he wasn’t going to do anything foolish. And he was opening his mouth to tell her that when she squeezed him again, and snuggled closer. His mouth closed, and his head dropped until his cheek was resting against her hair. He was crazy; that was the only explanation. He was sitting in a cozy, romantic sunroom on a bench, Kate Todd was hugging him, and he wanted to send her away? Absolutely nuts.

They were silent, just sitting in the near dark. Tony moved his fingers lightly against her arm, extending and contracting in a slow rhythm. She shivered after a while, and moved her head up slightly against his. He stopped then, allowing his hand to just rest against her. The places where she touched him grew warm in shared body heat. He found himself relaxing, lulled by her presence. His eyes began to droop, until finally they just remained closed. Then all there was was the darkness and the feeling of her next to him. He must have been dozing, because when the door opened, it came as such a disturbance that his head jerked up, and he pried his eyes open with some effort. It was some comfort that Kate seemed to react the same way. She sat up, blinking hard, and stretched as she turned to the doorway. Rebecca stood in the light, looking at them with a smile on her face. “Don’t you two look sweet,” she said.

“Mmph,” Tony said, dropping his head to stretch out his neck. “Time is it?”

“Eleven. You’ll be more comfortable in the guestroom, I think.”

“’m fine,” he said through a yawn.

“Well, I’m not. Mario and I are going to bed. I just wanted to see if you needed anything.”

Tony shook his head and forced himself to his feet. “I remember where everything is, unless you moved it,” he said, walking towards his sister-in-law.

“Not in the basement,” she answered. “Everything’s right where it was.”

“Then we’re good.” He held his arms out to her, and she came forward to accept his embrace. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Good night, Tony.”

He kissed her on the cheek. “Night, Rebecca.”

“Good night, Kate. See you in the morning.”

“Good night, Rebecca,” Kate answered.

Rebecca was almost through the door when she turned back. “Oh, I’ll try to keep Min and Mel from waking you both up tomorrow, but you know how they get. I say one thing, they do exactly the opposite.”

“Consider us warned,” Tony said. “Sleep well.”

She nodded, then left the sunroom. He saw a few lights turn off as she made her way to the staircase.

“Wake us up how?” Kate asked. She still seemed to be a bit asleep.

Tony shrugged as he turned back to her. “Usually they come in and jump on the bed.”

Slowly, she drifted over until she was lying down on the bench. “Means we’ll need to sleep in the same bed, huh?”

Immediately, any fatigue he felt disappeared. They couldn’t do that. That was a terrible idea. “If you want to keep going with the story.”

Her eyes opened slightly. “What, you don’t want to?”

He shrugged. The sooner they dropped the op, the better, as far as he was concerned. He couldn’t tell her that, of course. “I think we can trust Mario and Rebecca.”

“Of course we can, but what kind of practice are we getting if we stop now? It’s just getting easy.”

“Well, I just… I thought maybe you wouldn’t be comfortable…”

Her eyes closed again. “Stop worrying about me, DiNozzo,” she said, her voice fading. “I’m fine.”

“All right,” he said. And then he did something he never would have dared to do if he hadn’t still been under the influence of two Canadian beers and she hadn’t been mostly asleep. He went over to her and picked her up in his arms. She twitched a little, as though she might have protested, but then she just breathed out and buried her head into the crook of his neck. His heart pounded; she must have felt it, but she was too far gone to really know what it was. With slow, smooth steps, he carried her through the still-open door and through the house, down the stairs to the basement guestroom. Avoiding the two suitcases inside the door, he crossed to the bed and brought one knee up onto it. Then he gently set her down in the middle. Her eyes drifted open a little as he straightened and turned on the bedside lamp. “Such a gentleman,” she murmured.

He smiled down at her. “I can be.”

“Stop it, okay? You’re throwing me off.” Her eyes closed again.

He simply could not help it. Though the part of him that knew it was a bad idea shrieked and screamed, he leaned forward and softly kissed her forehead. “Get ready for bed, Kate. I’m going to turn down the house.”

She made a sleepy non-committal noise at him. He kissed her forehead again, then pressed his cheek to the silkiness of her hair, before rising and leaving the room. Methodically he checked the doors, windows, and turned off lights, taking as long as he possibly could, trying to bring his rebellious body and mind back under control. Finally, though, there was nothing else to do but return to the guestroom.

He stopped in the doorway. Somehow, she’d actually done as he’d asked. Her face was pink with fresh washing, and she had dressed in the old T-shirt that served as her nightwear and slipped under the covers. Other than that, she was exactly as he’d left her. Quietly, he opened his suitcase and pulled out his toothbrush and a T-shirt. He kept a careful eye on himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth and changed his clothes. He wasn’t quite sure he trusted the look in his eye. The conflict between prudence and (dare he call it that) passion raged in his head. He stared himself down for a while, waiting for one side or the other to gain dominance. They seemed to be fairly evenly matched. “Gentleman,” he told himself. “You are going to act like a gentleman tonight, DiNozzo.”

That decision made, or at least spoken, he left the bathroom and returned to the bedroom. He closed the door softly behind him, then stood by it, looking at the sleeping woman in the bed. She looked so comfortable. He hardly wanted to disturb her by climbing in. He lowered his eyes. Friend, he thought forcefully. Gentleman. He stepped towards the bed, and reached out to pull the covers back. He stopped before he could. Floor, he added then. Definitely floor. He removed the pillow that Kate wasn’t using, then got down on his hands and knees and dug underneath the bed for the extra blankets.

“Tony?”

He jerked a little, scraping his arm on the metal bed frame. He’d thought she was asleep. He looked up, his head barely clearing the edge of the mattress. Her eyes were open, and though she was still hazy, she was definitely more conscious than before. “What are you doing?”

“Umm…”

“Are you trying to sleep on the floor?”

“Well…”

She rolled her eyes and whipped the covers back. He fought to keep his eyes on her face, not allowing them to travel the length of her body down to her tanned, bare legs. “You’re sweet. Now come to bed.”

Don’t say things like that, Kate, please! “Are you sure?” he stalled.

“Look, Tony, I’m too tired to make changes to the op procedures tonight. Let’s just stick to the plan for now. We can talk about changes in the morning, okay?”

Morning might be too late, Kate. But he had no choice, really. It was either get into bed with her and hope for the best, or tell her why he didn’t think it was a good idea. Talk about a rock and a hard place.

Carefully, he withdrew his arm from underneath the bed and retrieved the pillow he’d stolen. He felt her watching him as he put it back on the bed, then got in and lay down on his back. She pulled the covers over him, and as she did so, her arm crossed over his chest, and she rolled so that she was almost lying on top of him. He shifted his arm out of the way. She made sure that the blankets covered him completely, and then she turned off the lamp on the bedside table. They were plunged into darkness, and then the weight of her against him eased, but not completely. Her hand came to rest on his breastbone, and she curled up against him.

“Kate–” he said.

“Night, Tony,” she sighed.

In the bare minute that he was paralysed, trying to figure out what to do or say, she had fallen asleep. He could tell, for her breathing was deep, and when he said her name, she didn’t so much as move. “Kate,” he whispered again. “Come on, Kate, go back to your side of the bed.” Nothing. He sighed, his eyes fixed on the headboard above him. “Mom, Kate’s on my side. Great, DiNozzo, how juvenile.” With one arm trapped under her head, he didn’t have a lot of options. He put his other hand on her shoulder and gently tried to roll her away from him. In her sleep, her hand clenched, grabbing hold of his T-shirt, and a few of the hairs on his chest. “Ow, ow! Damnit, woman, that hurts!” He covered her hand with his, and as he did so, she rolled back the distance he’d pushed her, and her hand relaxed and the pain stopped. “First thing’s first, then.” Loosely gripping her wrist, he slowly lifted her hand vertically. She didn’t seem to react. But as he started to move it back towards her, she pulled it from his grasp. She missed his face by a very small margin, and he counted himself lucky, because her hand dropped onto his shoulder with significant emphasis. She settled closer in, adjusting for the new position of her arm, and one of her legs bent and crossed over his. He shifted slightly, testing out this new situation, but it was no use. She had him well and truly pinned.

He lay there, wondering what on earth he’d done to deserve this kind of treatment from the Powers That Be. Here he was, mostly committed to being a gentleman, and the object of his affections was throwing herself upon him. In her sleep. It was unfair in the worst way. His only real recourse was to wake her and get her to move, but he didn’t really want to do that. She was tired. He didn’t want to disturb her sleep more than he already had. Would he get any sleep; that was the question.

That was when the little voice in his head spoke up again. You’re a real idiot, Tony, you know? You hang around Gibbs too much.

He was in bed with Kate Todd. They were wrapped around each. Sure, he’d just realized his feelings for her ran a little deeper than he’d thought. Sure, it was probably a bad idea. But if he wasn’t going to tell her, ever, how he felt, then damnit, why didn’t he just take what he could get and enjoy it? When would he ever have the chance to spend the night with Kate Todd again?

The other voice in his head, the one that sounded suspiciously like Gibbs, slowly fell into muteness as his arms unconsciously moved around her. Her breathing hitched slightly as he did so, and he paused to make sure she wasn’t waking up before settling her in his embrace a little more firmly. His eyes closed, and he listened to her breathing. Gradually, his took up her pattern. And just like before, out in the sunroom, he felt her presence relaxing him. He wanted to stay awake a little longer, to consciously enjoy what proper conduct would deprive him of come morning, but he couldn’t. He had one final thought before he slipped into slumber.

Kate Todd was in his arms. All was right in the world.