A/N: The shortest little LB/SF tag I've ever written. It's set fairly soon after the epilogue of the original story, as you can see. Originally* written for Flynn.
Gibbs grinned again as he held up the photo in his hands to the light, intently admiring the mosaic of grey, white, and black colours that made up Jenny's ultrasound.
Just as it had been with Kelly, he had no freaking idea what he was looking at-he could be seeing a head or a foot-but he knew it was good, so he was pleased—Jenny was healthy, the baby was healthy, and they weren't going to have a repeat of last winter.
The dog barked excitedly at his feet, wagging his tale madly, demanding his master let him outside. Gibbs turned and crouched down, scratching the golden retriever's ears fondly.
He held out the photo.
"What's that, Malarkey?" he asked gruffly, letting the dog sniff the object curiously. "What do ya think, bud? You okay with the idea?"
Malarkey barked loudly again. And wagged his tail blithely.
Gibbs smirked.
"You'll get used to it," he snorted. "It'll be like Levi, only littler," he informed the dog solemnly.
It was going to be weird having a baby in the house again.
He stood back up, glancing around. He suddenly realized Jenny had disappeared. Her purse was on the counter, and so was the envelope the ultrasound had been in, but his wife was nowhere to be found—it appeared she hadn't even greeted her dog.
He flipped the ultrasound over, where some statistics and the word female were scrawled on the back, and smiled wryly. She didn't know the sex; she had asked not to be told at the doctor's office. She wanted Gibbs to tell her when they got home. He got to tell her, and he was pleased about it.
"Jen?" he called, tucking the photo into his pocket and wandering through the ouse. He let Malarkey out the back door and looked around intently, thinking about where she might be—since she didn't answer him. "Jenny?" he called, louder.
He went half down the basement stairs, and realized it was too dark for her to have gone down there—she would have turned the lights on. He changed courses and went for the bedroom, where he found her. Sitting on the bed. Leaning against the headboard. In the dark. Her legs drawn up.
"Jen," he said, quieting down.
He flipped the light on, and came in, strolling over until he was next to her. He sat down and reached for her knee, gripping it and swaying her leg back and forth.
He took the ultrasound out of his pocket and looked at it; he tapped her knee with it.
"Why aren't you happy?" he asked mildly.
She had been fine this morning, and in the car, and in the doctor's office, and now she wasn't—but, that was how it worked with Jen.
"I am happy," she said honestly, tilting her head and looking at the photo.
"You sure?" he asked nuetrally. "'Cause if you aren't ready—"
He stopped. Well, he wasn't sure what they could do if she wasn't ready for this. It was a little late to be talking through the psychology of it; she was five months along. It had already taken her a while to decide if she wanted to know the sex, and he sensed she had reservations when she finally decided she did. He wasn't stupid; he knew that when the team joked about their boy-or-girl betting pool, the word boy made her flinch.
"I want it," she said sincerely, a hint of passion in her voice, taking the photo from him. She looked at it and tilted her head. "He-she-it looks like a ferret," she muttered, and he glared at her—typical Jen, even when she was upset.
Even if his male eyes saw nothing but mushy squishy blur he didn't take kindly to her calling his kid a ferret before it was even born.
"It just occurred to me when I heard the heartbeat that I didn't want a boy," she said slowly, her words hoarse. She was clearly uncomfortable admitting to this. "And I didn't know what I would do if it was because I can't…I can't change it," she swallowed. "It makes me feel a little sick," she confessed, "that I might…not be able to handle it if it's a boy, and even if it's a girl," she paused, and looked over at him. "I—I'm scared, Jethro."
He raised his brows calmly. Jenny never really admitted to being afraid, even when she was. He understood this. She had to be feeling so many things—she'd had a miscarriage, she'd lost a child, of course she couldn't bring herself to be consumed with happiness. She was scared, and he should have been more perceptive to that. He crawled across the bed and sat next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He didn't say anything cookie cutter or cliche—he didn't promise it would be okay because he didn't really know, but he took the ultrasound back and smiled a little, and then flipped it over.
"It's a girl, Jen," he revealed gently.
And her shoulders sank like she was relieved and then she leaned forward and took his hand and she kissed it, and she smiled warmly into his palm. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, pressing supportive lips to the crown of her head, and, even if she still couldn't shake the fear and the pain of loss, she laughed, squinting and bringing the ultrasound a little closer. She flipped it over, her heart speeding hopefully at the sight of the word healthy and the word female.
"You have to name-her," Jenny said, saying the word with more confidence. She swallowed. "I couldn't-I was only good at boys' names. I couldn't decide for a girl," she admitted.
Gibbs nudged her shoulder and grinned, pressing his nose into her temple.
"Ferret it is," he deadpanned, and she raised her eyes to the ceiling, shaking her head at him, counting her blessings, and cautiously embracing a good feeling.
*Originally posted on tumblr.
-Alexandra
story #113 - LB/SF 'verse