Set just after Jenny dies, minus her house burning down. Completely AU. Just a little thought that skittered through my brain one evening. Mostly Gibbs/OC, with the rest of the team mixed in. No pairings, but lots of Papa Gibbs. I didn't work out timelines/ ages to be cannon, so forgive me. My first fanfic so constructive criticism is welcome. Rated T for language.
Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs heaved a deep sigh as he stood in the mahogany clad entry way of the recently deceased Jennifer Sheperd. What the hell happened, Jen? He thought almost angrily. The house was eerily silent, completely devoid of any noise. Even the servants had gone home to grieve. Gibbs took a moment, listening to his own breath as it rattled in and out of his lungs, then turned to the left and slowly entered the large office he knew so well.
Despite the fact that Jasper Sheperd had been dead for the better part of two decades, this room that once belonged to him still smelled of expensive cigars and brandy. But it also smelled of her. The slight fragrance of French perfume met his nostrils with a flood of unwanted emotion. She had first acquired her taste for the expensive spray when they were working together in Paris. Paris was where we first. . . He stopped his train of thought abruptly. Too many memories.
His eyes roamed over the papers on top of the massive desk till something caught his eye. The scrawling, feminine writing he knew so well barely shown below a stack of typed, official looking forms. Dear Jethro. He plucked it from beneath the papers and was disappointed to see that was where she stopped. The former marine wondered what was so difficult that Jenny felt she needed to express herself in a note instead of a conversation. It just wasn't like her.
Just then a sound caught his attention. His hand instinctively went to the pistol on his hip as his ears trained on the sound. There it was again. It wasn't loud enough or rhythmic enough to be footsteps. It was coming from the back of the house where Gibbs knew the sitting room to be. Slowly sliding the Sig from his holster, he held it at the low ready as he moved silently down the hall.
The sound got louder as he approached the sitting room. Just before he rounded the last corner, he just barely caught the glimpse of a uniformed figure standing in front of the fireplace, absently poking at a log with a wrought iron tool.
"Freeze, NCIS!" Gibbs called out as he entered the room, the muzzle of his firearm trained on the man's back.
The young man spun around, startled, his eyes growing large as he took in the gun.
One side of the boy's uniform identified him as a Marine, the other declaring his last name to be Sheperd.
"Who are you?" Gibbs demanded.
"I'm Director Sheperd's son," the boy's tone was bordering on angry. "Who the hell are you?"
Gibbs didn't let the muzzle of his gun move even an inch. "Jenny didn't have a son."
The red rimmed eyes, slumped shoulders, and exhausted features were a testament to the pure hell the boy was going through. He dropped heavily onto the nearest love seat, resting his elbows on his knees. "Look. I don't have time to argue my existence right now. I just came to get a few things." A pause, then, "But while you're here, maybe you could help me?"
Having decided the boy wasn't a threat, Gibbs slid his firearm back into it's holster. "How's that?"
"Tell me how I can get a hold of an Agent Jethro Gibbs."
"Yeah. I can do that."
Corporal Sheperd eyed the older man wearily. He really had no desire to play head games.
"You're looking at him," Gibbs finally finished.
And odd mixture of emotions flitted across the boy's face as Gibbs watched. Was that fear he saw?
The teenage marine stood, turning to face the agent. "Well, then, it's nice to meet you." He extended a hand. "I'm Matt."
Gibbs couldn't completely hide his confusion as he took the firm handshake. Was he supposed to know this kid?
Matt looked incredibly disappointed, his shoulders slumping. "I take it from your expression that my mom never got around to telling you."
"Nope," was all Gibbs could think of to say.
"Ah. Well, she was supposed to explain a few things before she. . ." he couldn't bring himself to say it.
"Like what?"
Matt took a seat on the love seat again. Gibbs noticed he would no longer look at him. "Uh, well, it's, uh, a. . ."
"Spit it out, Marine,"
"Geez, I wish she would've told you," Matt said under his breath, but loud enough for Gibbs to hear.
"Tell me what?" Gibbs was quickly losing patients.
"That I'm her son."
"You already told me that!"
The boy was quiet a moment, his features full of apprehension. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "But I'm also yours." His eyes flicked to the older man's face, then down again to the coffee table in front of him. It wasn't complete surprise that he saw there- almost like this man half expected it.
Never one for words, Gibbs had no idea what to say. The boy was obviously expecting him to say something. But what could possibly be appropriate right now? His mind whirled with memories and possibilities. Why wouldn't she tell me? After all this time, why wouldn't she tell me? The revelation changed everything, to be sure, but at the moment, his mind just wouldn't wrap around it. At the same time, he realized it wasn't really the shock it should have been. Gazing intently at the boy, he saw the eyes were his own. The height and build were his. The nose and mouth belonged to his mother, but most everything else was his. His son.
Suddenly feeling very tired, he plopped next to the boy on the sofa, an uneasy silence building between them. "Ah, hell," Gibbs blurted out of pure frustration, standing back to his feet to start pacing the spacious room. "Why the hell didn't somebody tell me? Why didn't your mom tell me?"
Matt couldn't meet the older man's eyes. Not knowing this man, he didn't know yet that most of his deepest emotions came across as anger. Understandably, he thought he was truly mad. "She didn't want. . .you to know," he gulped.
"Don't you think I might have had a right to know!"
"I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs."
The pure remorse he heard in the young man's voice was enough to take the heat out of his tone. He sat next to the boy again, giving him a light clap on his uniformed knee. "Ah, it's not your fault, Matt." Another uncomfortable silence befell the two. "So, a Marine, huh?" Gibbs asked, painfully aware of how lame it sounded.
"Part time," Matt said simply. "I was on reserve weekend when. . .well, you know." Another pause, then, "What happened, Agent Gibbs? Was it her doing? Could she have made it out?"
Gibbs wasn't entirely sure he knew what the kid was asking. "I'm not sure. But I'll find out."
"I was afraid something like this would happen."
"Part of the job," Gibbs answered.
Matt shook his head. Gibbs noticed just a touch of moisture collecting in the corners of the boy's eyes. "It didn't have to be, Agent Gibbs. I think I know that. Ever since her diagnosis, I suspected she would do something like this."
Gibbs had suspected an illness for quite some time, but this was his first outright confirmation. "What diagnosis?"
"She was good at keeping secrets, wasn't she?" Matt gave a small, tired smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Cancer. Stage 4 by the time she caught it. She only had weeks left."
"Damn," Gibbs seethed. "Never should have taught her rule four."
"Rule four?"
Gibbs turned his head to look at his new found offspring. "Best way to keep a secret is to keep it to yourself."
Matt smiled. "Yup. She definitely learned that one."
"So you live here?" Gibbs took advantage of the temporary reprieve in the awkwardness.
"Oh. No. I haven't lived here since-geez-I think I was fourteen."
"Where were you?"
"Military school mostly. Mom was always wanting me to come home. I liked being away."
"So where do you live now?"
Matt shrugged. "Here, I guess."
"You guess?"
"I was going to school in Pennsylvania."
"Was?"
"I, uh, informed the dean yesterday that I wouldn't be returning." He absently rubbed his temple.
Though he knew he had no right to express any real paternal concern over this boy, it came bubbling to the surface all the same. "You what?" Gibbs exclaimed before he could stop himself.
The boy looked away again, his gaze once again falling on the coffee table, giving a small shrug. "I didn't really want to be a doctor anyway. And it's not like I'm losing much. It's only second semester of my freshman year."
"So that makes you what, eighteen? Nineteen?"
"Nineteen."
"Plenty of time to go back to school."
"Yeah, I guess."
Yet another awkward silence fell between them. "You hungry?" Gibbs asked, an action plan finally forming in his mind.
Matt just shook his head.
"Have you eaten today?"
The boy looked his father in the eyes for perhaps the first time since they met, but quickly averted his gaze. "Haven't really had time."
Gibbs let out a sigh. "Grab your bag and let's go," he said standing up.
Matt hesitated for a fraction of a second before getting to his feet. He thought to protest, but quickly thought better of it. He didn't want to stay in the house alone with nothing but the memory of his mother to keep him company. His emotions were already teetering on a razor thin edge, sure to go over the edge with just another hour or so with nothing to do but think.
Grabbing the camouflage backpack he hadn't had a chance to unpack yet, he broke into a jog to catch up with the older man as he heard the sound of an engine start in the driveway.
"Where're we going?" Matt asked once he was securely seated in the old Ford pickup.
"Home," Gibbs answered simply.
So there's chapter one. Please read and review. Hopefully I will get enough people who like it that I will continue it. Future chapters are sure to include lots of trouble for our newest Gibblet, a few dead colonels, and of course some super sleuthing from the team.