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He could still remember feeling the breeze on his face as they stood on the roof. Victorious. At least for the moment. If he was taught anything during his years as an agent, victory was never fully in your grasp nor was it ever really over. Looking at her, he could feel utter relief that she was safe and a smile graced his face as he made his normal smart ass comments.

"You know, Tony's right," he could hear Gibbs tell this to Kate, who scoffed. Even when she was trying to put dischord amongst Tony's ego, he could see differently in her eyes. Such a deep brown. Almost like liquid chocolate. He always caught himself looking into her eyes and when she questioned him, he would make an excuse. Teasing that they were bloodshot and assuming she had a long night with one of his fraternity brothers. Getting her riled up was better than her figuring out what he was really doing.

"I thought I'd die before I hear that--"

It happened so quick that Tony couldn't even react. What was that sound? A warm liquid splattered his face and through muffled ears he heard a thud. Looking down, he saw her. Kate. Those beautiful brown eyes were open, though they saw nothing. A single bullet hole centered between the eyes he often thought about. He realized what was on his face as he saw a puddle of blood seep from the back of her head and form a puddle. Almost like a halo. Moving his head up, too slow, like he was underwater, his gaze locked with Gibbs'. He could feel the wind dry the blood on his face as he looked down at Kate's body. No more sexual innuendos. No more jabs to the ego. No more fights about who was going to tell Gibbs the bad news. She was gone. Dead.

What happened after that, Tony couldn't exactly remember. It was like someone draped a blanket over his mind. Too painful to relive. Too hard to really forget. The next thing he could remember was going back to work a day later on Gibbs' orders. Everyone had taken a day to mourn before setting out to find Kate's killer. That had been over a year ago. So why was he thinking about it now?

That was the question in his mind as he walked through the cemetary. He hadn't been by since the funeral. Visiting graves just wasn't something he could do. Even when his mother passed away, he had only come by a handful of times. Once he had been shipped off to the academy, any thoughts of going back home was immediately dismissed. But now here he was, and he didn't even know what to do once he found her. Talk like she could hear him? Pray? Fall to his knees and cry? The last option was not much of an option. He couldn't remember the last time he showed any hard emotions such as that. Tears weren't even shed at Kate's funeral. He stayed strong along with Gibbs for the others, though it seemed like Boss was close to the breaking point himself.

"This wasn't a good idea," Tony muttered to himself, weaving through random graves. Names and dates etched into stone seemed so... permanent. Of course, death is about as permanent as you can go besides marriage. He kept walking, a single rose clutched in one hand. Finally, he stopped in his tracks and merely stared for what felt like hours.

Caitlin Todd
Beloved daughter, sister and friend
Devoted NCIS agent
January 15th 1978 - May 22nd 2005

"Ouch!" Tony hissed. Looking down, he realized that his hand had squeezed the rose so tightly that the torns embedded into his skin. This could be a good thing. At least he wasn't as numb as he thought he had been. Glancing at the grave, he shrugged and gave a wistful smile. Maybe just talking like she was right there would be best. Continue to live in slight denial. "At least you can't say I never gave you flowers."

He didn't get a response, but he could almost imagine the look on her face and tone in her voice. That was enough for the moment. Kneeling down, he placed the rose on the ground in front of her headstone. Her favorite colors had been red and yellow. After going to several florists, he found a deep yellow rose with the tips painted a scarlet red. The sun was already settling into the downy clouds for the night, allowing pinks, purples, golds and reds to stretch across the green rolling hills and glowing upon the other headstones.

"I know I haven't been around to see you. My little black book always keeps me busy..." he trailed off. Cracking old jokes definitely didn't help the pain like he thought it would. Taking a deep breath, he closed eyes as a breath of wind swept through the cemetary. Just like it had done on the roof that horrible day. If only he had known. He could have pushed her out of the way, taken her place, turned around and shot the assassin... something. Anything. All he did was watch as she fell. When he spoke again, he was surprised at how choked his voice sounded. "God, Kate, I'm so sorry."

Though they were always at each other's throats, Tony and Kate actually complimented one another nicely. Their minds were constantly on the same track, they shared some of the same skills, they worked hard to get where they were on Gibbs' team... the only downfall is that when Tony thought he was right, Kate thought she was right. Neither would admit being wrong and another argument would always ensue until someone interrupted. Sometimes it seemed like the argument was allowed to drag on longer merely for amusement for the rest of the team.

So many times Tony had found his mind wandering. One was obviously her eyes. The way she carried herself when she was in the office and in the field. Determination to solve a case. Willingness to go the distance to prove herself to not only Tony and Gibbs, but to herself. He should have done something. Hugged her. Kissed her. Told her what he thought. What he felt. Why hadn't he done any of that? All because he didn't want to seem weak in front of everyone? If he had the chance now, he would do everything he wanted to do with her. He could have protected her. God... he could have loved her. If she had let him. He had the strongest feeling that she would. He had blown his chance and he would have done anything to get it back.

"I should have double checked the perimeter. How could I have assumed that we were safe? Pushed you out of the way. Took your place. Anything to keep you alive," Tony reached out and placed a trembling hand on the smooth, cold granite. Permanent. A shudder raked through his body. "...I did love you. I still do. I should have told you, but... Father always did say a show of emotions was a show of weakness. I should have said screw it and told you. Hold you. Never let you go. Oh, Kate..."

Should have. Could have. Would have.

Words failed him now. Warm kiquid was falling down his cheeks in streams. Reaching up to wipe it away, he saw it wasn't blood. Tears. He was crying. Suddenly his knees gave out and sobs were escaping his tight chest as he kept a hand against the stone. Almost as if he was asking for strength to get through the pain he had held inside for so long.

"I love you."