Leroy Jethro Gibbs rolled over in bed and squinted at his alarm clock. The offensive item was flashing little red numbers against the darkness. 3:15 am.
He groaned. Too late to bother going back to sleep, too early to get up. As he rolled onto his back in an attempt to go back to sleep, a light turned on in the en suite. He sat up, and watched bemused as a shadow flushed the toilet and washed its hands, in his bathroom. Was he forgetting something?
The shadow entered the bedroom and climbed into bad, snuggling up beside him.
"Jethro?" she asked, her arms around his waist and her head on his chest, "Are you alright?"
He looked at her again, that look on his face like the one he got when he was trying desperately to remember something. Soon enough he gave up though, closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth from her body. Maybe he would be able to go back to sleep after all.
"I'm fine."
She looks at him strangely, but soon enough reached the same conclusion that he had – they could sort things out in the morning.
"Goodnight, Jethro."
He opens his eyes a crack as she leans up for a kiss.
"Goodnight, Jen."
The next morning, he is woken again by the absence of a body against his. He rolled over, expecting to see an indent left by the previous nights occupant, and to smell the coffee brewing. But... nothing.
He sits up and holds his head in his hands. There would never be anything – not then, not now, not ever. She was gone now.
When Gibbs turns up at work in the morning, they all note the redness around his eyes, but none of them say anything. It was only three days after her funeral – what could they expect? Abby's hug was tighter than usual, but no-one said anything.
There was nothing to be said.
A/N: yes, I know, that was horrible. Arrrrrrg, ANGST! It's everywhere! Thus, I'm sorry for inflicting this on you all. . Maybe a review would make me feel better...?