Snippet

by Lila

lila_woodruff@yahoo.com

Note: y'all's conversation about Gibbs' bracelet got me in a Medic Alert kind of mood ...

summary: Kate ponders things she didn't notice



Snippet
by Lila

I didn’t know.

I mean I *didn’t* know.

Maybe I didn’t want to know.

Wait, I don’t think that’s it. I think it was the whole avoidance thing. I mean, God, I could … I could have fallen for Gibbs the first few weeks. I could have. It’s a weakness, okay? Boy meeting girl. Man meeting woman. Biology. I’m not … immune.

Like I haven’t proven that over and over.

I mean sometimes you don’t want to be too observant.

Besides, I bought the whole don’t-fuck-the-coworkers speech Gibbs gave me. Bought it. Hook. Line. And sinker.

I *bought it*, damn it.

I bought every last moralistic word coming out of Gibbs’ mouth.

And jewelry? Who the hell notices jewelry when you’re trying not to notice.

I mean if Gibbs had a health condition he should have informed me.

But then if Gibbs had informed me I still wouldn’t know. I mean, I’d have known *that* but I wouldn’t have *known*. You know?

I mean I thought …

Oh, God, I don’t know what I thought.

I thought Gibbs was … relaxing, letting his guard down.

Like I shouldn’t have taken one look at him slumped boneless in the chair and not thought something was wrong. Hell, Gibbs’ posture is so straight you could make pleats with it.

And when he whistled …

Okay. I’m as vain as the next person … and you have to remember, where I sit, the next person is Tony DiNozzo.

~oOo~

“Lookin’ good there, Kate. Got a date?”

“Um, yeah, actually.” I’ve had too many Friday nights ruined not to be wary. “There’s not something I’m supposed to be working on is there?”

“Nope.” Gibbs spins the chair around. “Nada. Zip. Zero.”

So at this point it might have dawned on me this was a little … strange. At least as far as dealings with Gibbs usually go, but maybe the man was actually capable of happiness.

“You’re in a good mood.”

“Yeah,” he looks a little perplexed. “I am.”

“So you’re in a good mood because?”

He gets to his feet and staggers slightly, holding on to the desk. Then DiNozzo walks in and you’d have thought it was Christmas from the way Gibbs’ face lit up.

“Tony!”

You could have heard pins dropped. Tony froze for about half a second, blue eyes as round as saucers. Then he took one look at Gibbs …

“Get Ducky.”

“What?”

“Get Ducky up here.”

He goes straight to Gibbs’ right hand desk drawer and flings a black kit on the desktop. Then with utmost care he settles Gibbs back in the chair.

“Hey, boss. You take your insulin today?”

And I’m the idiot over there going ‘insulin?’

Not that I’m not also transfixed when Gibbs' hand moves to stroke Tony’s cheek. A slight tremor runs through him as the hand is gingerly forced down.

“Gibbs, listen to me. I’ve got to check your blood sugar.” He turns the hand in his. Moving closer I notice a shimmer of perspiration on Gibbs’ forehead.

“How much coffee has he drunk today?”

“What?”

Tony snaps out the question again. “How much coffee has he had?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Too much caffeine masks the hypoglycemic symptoms.” He professionally lances the finger he holds between his own. “He can go into insulin shock and you don’t notice ‘til he’s not making sense.” Switching hands he dips the strip into the welling of blood and leaves Gibbs staring at his injured hand with intense fascination while he feeds the strip into the monitor and curses at the result.

Ducky, obviously not as out of the loop as I am, slides right between the pair, putting his own fingers expertly on the carotid. “What’s the reading?”

Tony flips the little digital monitor toward him at the same time he reaches for the phone. Who the hell know the boy was so ambidextrous in an emergency?

“Ambulance,” mutters Ducky in agreement, clearly not liking what he’s seeing. He keeps his fingertips on the pulse point.

Gibbs still seems to be taking in the commotion with a slight amusement.

“Where’s his glucose pills?”

Tony stands up, still giving instructions to the emergency operator, and fishes in his pocket for a flat pill case. “Here.”

“Jethro?” Gibbs smiles up crookedly at Ducky. “I need you to swallow these.”

When there is no response, he shakes the agent a little. “Jethro.”

Tony leans down to help him. “Hey, babe, you need to take your pills.”

About the time the “babe” starts to make sense in my mind, Gibbs tilts forward, slumping unconscious into two pairs of restraining hands.

“Kate, get the kit.” Ducky nods toward the black bag on the desk, his own hands busy with easing Gibbs into Tony’s hold.

“It’ll make him nauseas,” cautions Tony.

Ducky strips the packaging from a needle and plunges it into the glass bottle, releasing the liquid. “That’s the least of his problems.” He shakes the bottle gently then draws the solution back up while Tony pushes back the sleeve on one lax arm. The injection is plunged home.

“On his side,” he orders when he’s done, helping Tony position the unresisting body. When he’s settled, Tony slips out of his jacket and bundles it under Gibbs’ head. “I lost the last one this way,” he says softly, stroking strands of gray back from Gibbs’ face. “Come on, babe, stay with me.”

~oOo~

“I didn’t know.”

“That he’s diabetic?” In the waiting room Tony waves my apology off dismissively. “That’s not surprising. He thinks it’s a weakness. Wouldn’t want to lose respect.”

“I should have noticed the bracelet. I mean I see him every day. I think I just …”

“Try not to look?”

I’m surprised at his intuition. “Yeah.”

“Gibbs is a compelling man.”

A second “yeah” is the only answer I can think of.

~oOo~

So I admit it. I eavesdropped.

I hear the first soft “hey” from Tony and I can’t resist the compulsion to haunt the door, turning just enough so I can see a sliver of Gibbs’ room.

“I don’t think I want to know,” groans Gibbs.

I can see Tony grasp Gibbs reaching hand, a finger gingerly soothing the skin surrounding the IV site. “Decaf, babe, for the next month you’re drinking nothing but decaf.”

“Blood sugar ditch?”

“Think you got some explaining to do to Kate.” Tony smiles that easy smile of his. “Think we both do.”

Gibbs hides his face behind his free hand. “Oh shit”

“Hey,” Tony pulls the hand down and into his own. “About time she knew -- about both things. Don’t you think?”

“What about ‘don’t ask / don’t tell’?”

“She’s not going to tell boss. But she will ask. I know damn well I would.”

“You asked first thing,” murmured Gibbs, drifting off.

Tony leans across and plants a chaste kiss on barely responsive lips. “You better damn well believe I asked first thing.”

~oOo~

So you didn’t know. Really. You didn’t know?

Sometimes Abby just makes me feel … old.

Nope. Had no idea. Never saw it coming. I mean Gibbs and *DiNozzo*. How was I supposed to see *that* coming?

You’re kidding me, says Abby going on to list a host of things I’ve overlooked. Didn’t I realize the moment I saw them together? Haven’t I ever watched Gibbs not touching him? She swears you can see him not touching him - and when it gets too much for Gibbs to bear, she says smiling, he swats him.

Abby looks decidely pleased with herself.

“You’ll watch now,“ she snorts.

Oh yeah, I probably will.

But I didn’t know.

I swear.

I *didn’t* know.



end