A/N: This was written for the NFA White Elephant Exchange, in which my prompt was to take some staples of soap operas and apply them to the NCIS team. So, as a result, this is AU and our favorite agents may be a bit OOC. I hope you enjoy this story - I had a great time writing it!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS. Any recognizable characters do not belong to me.

Special thanks to sockie1000 for her beta work! Any remaining errors are my own.

Clumsy fingers fumbled with the fabric, and he almost laughed at his nervousness. It was ridiculous, of course. He'd done this so many times before. Four, actually, if anyone was counting. And he was pretty sure that everyone was counting. He'd been reminded on more than a dozen occasions, in one form or another, that he was a veteran at this marriage thing. He knew that, of course. His fiancé knew it too. The both of them laughed at all the naysayers and doubters, and they let their words roll off their backs.

Well, at least Jenny did. Gibbs burned the name of every single person who openly mocked their marriage into memory. He knew it was bound to come in handy one day. He was marrying the Director of NCIS, after all. He'd make sure to use his new position of influence over anyone who had dared piss him off.

And this marriage had pissed off plenty of people.

Because not everyone was wrong… this marriage was probably more out of convenience than love. For both of them. Scuttlebutt was always a problem, but the rumors swarming around Jenny had hit a little too close to home: taking bribes, sanctioning off-the-book surveillance of foreign nationals, and intimate relations of a subordinate (a female subordinate) were just the tip of the iceberg. When Ziva started being harassed at work, well… it hadn't taken Jenny long to begin pulling strings and weaving a carefully planned web to give her the utmost protection.

A wedding hadn't been her first choice, but she and Ziva shared too strong a history (the gaps of time in the shared mission in Cairo were too hard to ignore, and thus far been unexplainable). She and Gibbs had their own history, of course. Paris the most obvious example of the passion they were capable of sharing, and consequently a deal had been made. An exchange of vows for an exchange of privileges. Gibbs had always toed the line of what was legal and what was not. That would no longer be a problem.

The term full immunity and means came to mind.

The ceremony was still 20 minutes away, but he could hear the guests arriving beyond the closed doors. He and his groomsmen had been set up in the church's nursery, of all places, but on this beautiful Saturday afternoon it was devoid of Sunday School songs and screaming children. It was oddly devoid of his groomsmen as well, but he knew they'd return when they were needed.

He walked over and peered out the door at the mingling attendees, looking for one in particular. The service was going to be small, with only a few friends and family present. She'd promised she wouldn't come, but there was something in his gut telling him otherwise. He couldn't put it to words; hell, he could barely organize the jumbled thoughts in his own mind. And though the last several minutes of being alone had been refreshing (honestly, his agents-turned-groomsmen could be a bit overbearing at times), he found himself wishing for someone to join him and give him a distraction from his restlessness and sense of unease.

Shaking his head, he shut the door and walked back toward the too-small bathroom, with its kid-friendly sink and mini mirror, to try his hand at the bow tie again. It wasn't an ideal location for preparing to look your best for your bride-to-be and your fifty guests, but he supposed it was better that he were here and his fiancé had the better digs in the prayer room. At least he hoped that she had a full sized toilet to use.

"Leroy?"

Gibbs jumped as someone called his name. Male, not female. Not her. He let out a breath.

"In here, dad."

Gibbs poked his head out of the bathroom to see his father strolling towards him. His wardrobe frustrations must have shown on his face, because in seconds his dad's hands were reaching for his throat, snagging the loose tie ends and expertly folding them together.

"You never could get this right," he mumbled, and Gibbs smirked. "There. All set."

After checking himself out in the mirror and giving his dad a small nod of thanks, Gibbs strolled around the nursery, picking up various toys and setting them down again. It had to be nearly time for the ceremony to begin… where were his groomsmen?

"You nervous, son?"

Gibbs looked up to see his dad smiling knowingly at him. "Not really," he shrugged with an attempt at nonchalance.

"You're pacing."

"This is not pacing," Gibbs corrected. "This is walking."

"I saw you looking out at the guests," his dad continued, his voice taking on a suspicious tone. "Looking for anyone in particular? A certain Lieutenant Colonel, perhaps?"

"Not now, dad," Gibbs stated with a touch of warning. Of course his dad had to have dropped by the one time Hollis had stayed the night. It was foolish of them to be so bold, and they'd not ventured outside of their favorite meeting spot (a sweet little motel that accepted cash and asked few questions) since. Gibbs didn't feel like defending himself regarding his extra-curricular love life right now.

He ignored his dad's harrumph and picked up a baby doll that had been tossed carelessly into a toy crib. As he smoothed her dress down, he realized with a pang of loss that he recognized it. Red hair and blue eyes. A pink dress with all the frills and lace that a four year old would love. It had been one of Kelly's favorites.

"Shannon would be happy for you, you know."

"Would she?" Gibbs kept his back to his father, happy for the change of subject, as he carefully set the doll back into its crib. "I don't know."

"Jenny is a fine lady," his dad continued, and Gibbs didn't miss the emphasis he put on his future wife's name. Looks like they weren't dropping the topic of Hollis after all.

"Dad-"

"Look, I'm not going to lecture you again on your life choices, son." Gibbs felt a hand on his shoulder as his father continued. "I just want to make sure you're following your heart."

"It's not my heart that's the problem," Gibbs commented, and he felt the odd sense of foreboding fall over him again.

"Oh, the infamous gut then? Well, what does your gut tell you?"

Gibbs finally turned and looked at his dad. "That something big is about to happen."

"Well, getting married is a life changer, Leroy," he said kindly. "Perhaps your gut is just nervous."

Gibbs didn't think so, but he didn't want to argue the point. Why was he so bent on punting a damper on today, anyway? So much time and effort had been put into this thing, and though he hadn't been thrilled in adding another marriage to his ledger, Gibbs was still getting a sweet deal as a result. There was no reason to worry about what was to come. He was sure he could handle anything that came his way.

Forcing a smile, he covered his dad's hand with one of his own.

"You're right, dad. Let's go round up the guys and get the show on the road."

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

"Tim, I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Abs, why not?" Tim asked, and his mouth quirked up in a large smile. "A wedding is a happy occasion! So is a baby. Why are we keeping this a secret? You know how happy everyone is going to be for us."

Abby sighed and looked away, unable to look at Tim's happy face any longer. She couldn't handle his bubbly enthusiasm. His over-eagerness to dote on her day and night. Only 8 weeks had passed since she had told Tim that she was pregnant, and she was already annoyed by the entire thing. She knew how ridiculous that sounded. Abby was well aware of how she should be behaving. But she wasn't feeling it. She couldn't feel it.

Not until she knew for sure.

Poor Tim, she thought as she caught his disappointed look out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't even imagine how much it would destroy him to find out…

But no, Abby rebuked herself silently. He won't find out. He can't find out. She'd make sure of that. And until then, well… she couldn't spread around the 'happy news' until she was good and ready.

Putting on her best pouty look (the one she knew Tim could not resist), she turned back to him, sliding one arm delicately around his waist. "Timmy, I don't want to take away the happiness from Gibbs! It's his wedding day! We don't need to fight for everyone's attention."

"Abby," Tim interrupted, raising his eyebrows in suspicion. "You always want attention."

He said it good-naturedly, but it was the best opening Abby was going to get to flee this conversation. She whipped her hand away and stomped her foot for effect.

"Tim!" Abby practically shouted, and was secretly pleased with Tim took a half-step away from her. "That wasn't a very nice thing to say! I don't always have to be the center of attention!"

Even if that were true, she certainly was now. Other guests were pausing as they strolled by, giving concerned glances at the couple while Tim tried to calm his over-emotional wife. Abby wouldn't let him.

"I know when things aren't about me, Tim, and today isn't about me. Or you. It's about Gibbs and Director Shepard. And if you can't be happy for them, well… then, I don't want to be with you right now!"

She turned to storm away, luckily able to hide the pleased smile, but Tim grabbed her arm before she could complete her escape.

"Abby, I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry," Tim bumbled, and Abby felt the guilt creeping up from her stomach.

"No, I'm sorry," she said, and she found that she genuinely meant it. She loved Tim, she really, really did. And she wanted nothing more than to have bunches of children with him and grow really, really old together. She just didn't know if she was any closer to achieving either of those things than she was 8 weeks ago.

"You know how emotional pregnant women can be," she started, and then added with a laugh, "and I was already emotional before that!"

Tim was already putting his arms around her and pulling her close. She cherished moments like these… when the outside world melted away and it was just the two of them. Tim knew how to ground her when she needed it, but the small sense of guilt in her stomach continued to grow the more she accepted his quiet reassurances that he understood… that they didn't need to tell anyone until she was ready… and that he loved her more than anything else.

It'll all be okay, she told herself. Though she'd need more than one of Tim's hugs to right her wrongs, she supposed.

The sound of someone clearing his throat finally parted her from Tim's embrace, and she turned to see Ducky smiling brightly at the two of them.

"Ah, young love," he said wistfully. "Such a fine couple the two of you make."

"Thanks Ducky," Tim replied, keeping one arm wrapped snugly around Abby's waist. "Was there something you needed?"

"I don't mean to interrupt your time together, but I was rather hoping I could spend just a few moments speaking with Abigail?"

"Oh, uh, sure." Tim gave Abby a small peck on the cheek before walking away, leaving Abby and Ducky relatively alone among the dwindling crowd. Almost everyone had entered the sanctuary and taken their seats.

"What's up, Duckman?"

"I won't keep you long, my dear, but I was curious if you had had the opportunity to run those tests I had given to you earlier?"

Abby waved at Assistant Director Vance as he strolled by with his wife before giving Ducky her full attention. "Right! The blood test. They were a match," she said with a smile, though it faded as she watched the color drain from Ducky's face. "Ducky? Are you okay?"

"Oh yes, dear, yes, I'm fine," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

"Who needed these results again?" she asked skeptically.

"My niece," Ducky stated a bit too quickly.

"Riiight." Abby perked up. "Well, this is good news for your niece then! Now she has proof of who her father is. She'll be thrilled! Right?"

"You're right, Abigail," Ducky said, brightening up just a little bit. He put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before pulling away. "You're absolutely right. I shall endeavor to call her after this evening's festivities. And I shall thank you for keeping this quiet, my dear."

Abby shrugged. "No problem! Anything you for you, Ducky, you know that."

Abby was happy to see Ducky perking up a bit the longer they talked. Too soon it was time to part ways and find their own seats for the ceremony, but not before Ducky thanked Abby once again for her discretion. He turned to go but wasn't able to get far before Abby's voice called out to him.

"Oh, and Ducky? Jimmy was looking for you earlier."

Ducky's step faltered and he stopped suddenly. Abby couldn't see his face, but she could see his shoulders tense and watched in fascination as his hands clenched and unclenched several times before he turned around.

"Oh?" he croaked before clearing his throat again, glancing at Abby over his shoulder. "Was he?"

"Yup. He came without a date, too," Abby said knowingly, her eyebrows waggling. "He lo…," she stumbled over her words a bit, not wishing to betray the confidence she held. "He cares about you a lot, Ducky. Maybe if you-"

"Thank you for telling me, Abigail. It is a small wedding, after all. I'm sure I'll see Mr. Palmer soon enough."

"You can't avoid him forever, you know."

"No," Ducky said more to himself than to Abby as he walked away. "I suppose I cannot."

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

At the request of the bride and groom, the minister was to keep the ceremony short. Reviewing his notes, he couldn't help but notice the lack of Bible verses, poems, or any sort of declarations of love outside the standard exchange of vows. He barely knew the couple outside of a few simple facts: they worked together, he had been married before, but had no children, and they wanted to keep things simple.

Simple he could do. But this? It was beyond simple. It was generic. Boring. Practically heartless.

Sighing, the minister checked his watch and stood, pulling on his ceremonial robes and entering the sanctuary through his office door. The groom was already standing at the ready, and the minister could see the military posture in his stance. Shaking hands briefly, the two stood silent as the organist began playing and the bridal party entered. Modern apparel, but nothing too outrageous. The minister had seen his fair share of inappropriate attire in his sanctuary. He was merely thankful that the women's breasts were where they should be... hidden beneath tasteful dresses, thank you very much.

The doors were closed, the music stopped and the bride and groom turned toward him.

It was show time.

"Dearly beloved, we have come together in the presence of God to witness the joining together of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony. Marriage is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently, deliberately, and in accordance with the purposes for which it was instituted by God.

"Into this union, Jennifer and Leroy now come to be joined. If any of you can show just cause why they may not be lawfully wed, speak now, or else forever hold your peace."

He paused for only a moment, intending to continue immediately on to the vows when the doors flew open. There were shocked gasps and some attendees stood to get a better look at the newcomer. Somehow the minister knew what was coming before the words were spoken.

"I object!"

He nearly rolled his eyes at the clichéd intrusion. Boring ceremony? Not anymore…

This just got interesting.

To be continued.