A/N: I seriously need to be researching and not writing more fics. Instead, this happened. haha. This was entirely inspired by "Heartland" (6x04—the one where we finally meet Gibbs' dad!). I absolutely love Jackson Gibbs and want him to come back like no other, so I gave him a tiny, AU storyline.

Disclaimer: If I owned it, there would be more of the adorable Jackson Gibbs.

Family

The plans for the wedding were simple. There was no need to order flowers or book a reception space. There would be no flower girl and no photographer. It would be small and intimate, overseen by a rabbi Ziva had come to know during her years in DC and witnessed by the makeshift family that they had made for themselves.

Everything had been finalized within months of the date itself--the rings had been purchased, the chuppah constructed, the outfits picked--and all that was left was the wait. Ziva had never been one for complicated affairs and Tony couldn't be easier to please. Things were moving along steadily until the day that Ziva appeared on Gibbs' doorstep to ask a favor of him that she was not entirely sure he would grant.

She paused before turning the handle, wanting to knock but knowing Gibbs would only chastise her for making him come to the door--that is, if he came to the door at all.

She knew where he was immediately from the smell of sauteed onions and bell peppers. When she walked into the kitchen, he was slicing sausage on a cutting board. He looked up at her, not at all surprised that she was there. That particular trait about him never ceased to entertain her: she herself had only made the decision to visit him while in the car on her way home from the drugstore.

"Gibbs. Making dinner, I see?" she said nervously, still unsure of how to frame the question she came over to ask.

"Ziver, you didn't come over here to make small talk," he said, giving her a gentle but pointed look. Her eyes settled on her fingers tracing the grout of the tiles on the countertop before her.

"Okay, I, ah, I," she paused to look up at him, sucking in a deep breath before continuing. "I was wondering if you would extend an invitation for the wedding to your father."

"Why," he drew out, confused and more than a little curious. She met his gaze before spinning around to lean back against the counter, hands cemented on its top to keep her in place. She sighed and looked down at her shoes.

She began quietly, "One of my grandfathers died before I was born, the other when I was two. My grandmother followed soon thereafter and my father's mother was diagnosed with dementia when I was six. I--" She bit her lip slightly. "I never had the chance to really know any of them and I have always wished that I had more time with them...when we made the trip to your hometown and met your father, I--I enjoyed that time."

Ziva brought her eyes up to focus on his face once more. "I have had the chance to speak with him on a few occasions since we left Pennsylvania--a few e-mails here and there, but those few exchanges gave me a glimpse of what I was never able to have. It is presumptuous to say that he has assumed a place in my life as family, but he has certainly...made an impact on my life...and I would like it if he could be there."

Gibbs looked truly surprised as he smiled to himself. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Because, Gibbs, he is your family. I cannot claim him as anything other than friend...and I know that the two of you have had your...difficulties. I did not want to step on any, ummm, toes?" Gibbs had to smile at the unsure accuracy of her English. He was touched that she was willing to put his comfort before her wishes, but it was unnecessary.

"I'll call him tomorrow." Her bright smile mirrored his own as he added the sausage to the skillet. She reached out and grazed his upper arm comfortingly.

"Thank you, Gibbs." She turned to leave when his voice stopped her.

"Ziver, you are family. We both think so," he confessed. In a rare moment of elucidation, he added, "I know he thinks of you the same way I think of you--as mine. I'm sure he'd love to be there...but know that if he comes, he's gonna want to have some words with DiNozzo before the big day."

Ziva chuckled and stepped closer to him, hesitantly wrapping him into a hug. He returned it, winding one arm around her waist, the other in her hair. She whispered to him conspiratorially, "I would not mind it..."

After a few beats more, they let go. Gibbs kissed her on the cheek softly and she grabbed the keys to her car from the countertop. It wasn't until she was buckled in and had her hand poised to turn the key in the ignition that the full realization of their conversation had sunk in.

Her real father, all but removed from her life at this point, had only ever attempted to make her fit his own ideal. His ideal of family, his ideal of loyalty, his ideal of the future. She was to be molded into what he needed in his life. When her mother died, he needed someone to look after Tali. When she was just out of school, he needed an expert soldier. When she had been reassigned to Mossad after Jenny's death, he needed her to start the next generation with Michael, a man of his own choosing.

Eli had never needed to protect her or ensure her safety because every moment of her life had been of his own design. He pushed her, changed her, "improved" her with every conversation, every order, every look. He was all she had for so long because he would not allow her to have anyone else. "To be close to another is to be weak, Ziva...but not where your father is concerned," he had told her countless times.

Gibbs had never asked her to be anyone but who she wanted to be. He never wanted her to apologize or compromise. His ideal fit her, not the other way around. When she was in trouble, he stood behind her, supporting her. When she cried, he was there to hold her and wipe away the tears. When she fell in love, he threatened Tony within an inch of his life if he hurt her. And now, Jackson Gibbs was willing to do the same.

In the many romantic comedies Tony had shown to Ziva (secretly, she knew he liked them, too), she had often noticed and mentally scoffed at the idea of the overprotective older brother or father. Ari and Eli had never been the type. Even if they had, she thought she would hate it.

But now, knowing that Gibbs and Jackson would both threaten the man that she--and they—loved in order to protect her (even though they knew she didn't really need it), she absolutely didn't hate it. There was something strengthening about it--something sweet and beautiful--and she wasn't entirely sure how to appreciate it fully. It was the opposite of everything she had been taught thus far. It was love. It was comfort. It was protection. It was feeling that she had always assumed she would only have with Tony. She wasn't sure when she felt this way with anyone else, but she knew one thing for certain: this was how family was supposed to feel.

The End

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