AN: This has been on my computer for months and decided since I hadn't written on it for a long time maybe it was actually finished and I just didn't know it. It is finished but not entirely proofed so chapters will be posted in fairly quick order.

A Promise to Keep

Chapter 1

The bartender kept a wary eye on the three women at a high top table in the corner as he slid a fresh bowl of pretzels to his sole customer at the bar. He thought to himself that this guy, one of his regulars, must not eat during the day because he sure went through the pretzels. The bartender who was also the owner of the place didn't mind though. After all the guy was his favorite customer. He came in most nights, had a couple of drinks, never caused a problem and always overpaid the tab. That was the kind of customer Pete loved. No, he wasn't worried about all the pretzels. He was more concerned about the three women.

Pete's Place was known as a cop bar but truthfully most of the customers were more likely to be Feds than regular cops. The place was small and in the past would have been smoky but of course these days that wasn't allowed. There were only ten seats at the bar and most nights about half of those were occupied. There were twelve tables scattered around the room, a juke box and the obligatory pool table in the back. A television over the bar played whatever local sporting event was on and another one in the seating area silently played ESPN. They usually served burgers and fries but the kitchen was temporarily closed. Pete knew most of his customers by name, where they worked and what they drank. The ratio of men to women in the bar on a typical night was usually about ten to one. The women that did come in on a regular basis were almost always with a man or two and they were almost always Feds like their companions. It was not a place to pick up the opposite sex.

The three women at the corner high top were new to the place. Pete had never seen them before and he'd bet his favorite Redskins cap they weren't Feds or cops of any sort. They looked more like…well Pete couldn't figure out exactly what they looked like. They were youngish; late twenties or maybe thirties with nice clothes, expensive looking purses and of course fancy cell phones. Pete had served two of them what he called foo-foo drinks but the third one, the redhead, was drinking Maker's Mark straight. That woman Pete thought was not like the other two. Something about her was different but there she was, drinking and laughing with them so he figured they were all friends or at least coworkers. What the hell they were doing in his place on a Wednesday night he didn't know. He only hoped they could hold their liquor. In his mind there was hardly anything worse than a sloppy drunk unless it was a sloppy drunk woman.

Pete saw the women's drinks were about gone and since his one and only waitress was off on Wednesdays he made himself go over to see if they wanted refills. On his way to their table he stopped to watch a basketball highlight on the television near them. He overheard them talking about his customer at the bar. They seemed to be daring each other to go talk to him. They laughed about the idea and finally the redhead said she'd do it.

Before she could get up Pete stepped to the table and blocked her. He asked if they wanted another drink which they did and as he turned to leave he looked at the bourbon drinker and quietly but firmly told her, "Don't do it".

She looked at him, raised a perfect eyebrow and settled back in her seat. Pete got their drinks and delivered them to the table with a fresh bowl of popcorn. They seemed to have moved on to another topic so Pete relaxed. He didn't want the woman, pretty though she was, bothering his customer. He knew from experience this particular gentleman didn't appreciate anyone trying to strike up a conversation with him.

The guy wasn't rude or anything but he just didn't want to talk to anyone. Pete talked to him some, enough to know he was an NCIS agent working out of the Navy Yard and he had been in the Marine Corps in Desert Storm. Other than that Pete didn't know much else except the guy's name, Jethro Gibbs, and the fact that he drank Jack Black and liked to be left alone. Pete had never seen him talking with anyone else and certainly not with a woman. Gibbs as he preferred to be called was a regular, good paying customer who Pete happened to like personally and he didn't want anyone making him uncomfortable or hesitant about coming back. Pete told himself he was protecting his business but in reality he knew he was trying to protect Gibbs. From what he wasn't sure but something about him told Pete not to let anything go on that Gibbs didn't want.

Pete had been in the bar business for almost fifteen years and he was very good at reading people. He knew the second time Gibbs came in that he was a very unhappy guy. He was quiet in a way that said the effort to make conversation would be too much of a burden, too difficult. Pete wondered if maybe he'd lost someone important; the look in his eyes was hard and distant. He spoke quietly, was unfailingly polite to Pete and Julie, the waitress, but he never willingly interacted with other customers. Pete remembered only one time Gibbs had come in with an older man, another bourbon drinker who Pete figured out was Gibbs' boss. They seemed to get along well but didn't talk much even to each other.

After checking to make sure Gibbs' drink was good, Pete glanced at the women's table and saw they were still talking and having a good time. He left the bar area and took a tray of beers to the pool players in the back. He spent a few minutes talking to them and watching the pool game. These fellas were regulars, Federal Cops, who worked in the area and came to play pool every Wednesday night. Pete enjoyed having them around. They were young, dedicated vets who were serious about the work they did for their country. He gathered up the empties and went back to the bar. Unfortunately he was just about two minutes late.

In Pete's absence the redhead had made a beeline for the bar and taken a seat two stools away from Gibbs. Pete's warning had been received and processed but instead of heeding it, the woman had been so intrigued she had decided to ignore it. She sat down and leaned on the bar looking at Gibbs.

"Hi, you mind if I sit here?"

Gibbs didn't even look over. He had seen the women when they came in and had heard their laughter from the back of the room. The bar wasn't that big after all. He had them pegged as cop groupies and he wanted nothing to do with them. Now one of them was trying to be friendly and he was less than interested. So, he ignored her and hoped she'd go away.

This woman was not used to being ignored and she wasn't exactly sure what to do next. She decided to try again.

"My name's Jenny. I bet my friends you were a Marine. Am I right?"

Gibbs ignored her again. He was really good with silence and he figured she'd get the message soon enough. She didn't look stupid after all.

"Look, I'm sorry if I'm bothering you but I have twenty dollars riding on this so could you just tell me yes or no about the Marine thing?"

Gibbs turned to face the woman. He studied her quickly and thoroughly. She was very good looking he thought. Her hair was auburn, her skin was pale and flawless and she had striking green eyes. She was looking at him with an open, friendly expression but that didn't really matter to him. His assessment took mere seconds and then he very quietly said, "Yes." Then he turned back to his drink, staring into the glass as if it held the answer to some important question.

When Gibbs looked at her, Jenny was immediately struck by the blank expression on his handsome face and the anguish in his very blue eyes. He was much better looking than she had imagined from across the room and his eyes were definitely the most attractive part of a very appealing package. But, they were as sad as they were blue. Jenny couldn't take her eyes off them. She saw him study her quickly and she heard his quiet answer, saw him turn away and still she couldn't make herself stop looking at him. Finally she heard Pete coming back and she shook herself back to the moment.

"Thanks. Sorry I bothered you."

But she wasn't sorry. She was fascinated and even more intrigued than she had been by Pete's warning. She knew she had to get this man to talk to her. She had to know him. She had no idea how that would happen but as she made her way back to her table she was certain she would somehow get this handsome man with the gorgeous, sad, blue eyes to talk to her. And maybe more.

Pete arrived back behind the bar as Jenny was leaving. He looked from her to Gibbs and wondered what had passed between them. Gibbs was concentrating hard on his drink and redhead was shaking her head as she went back to her table. He saw her collect a ten dollar bill from each of her companions and he fervently hoped those three women never came back to the bar again. It infuriated him that she had used Gibbs as some kind of joke or bet with her friends.

A few minutes later Pete watched as the women gathered their belongings and left their table. The redhead was the last to leave and as she passed the bar she laid one of the tens on the bar next to Gibbs and said, "your share." She said goodnight to Pete and he saw her look at Gibbs with interest. Gibbs didn't look up until he heard the door close and then he glanced at the ten and shook his head. About fifteen minutes later he laid some money on the bar and told Pete goodnight. The ten stayed in its place until Pete put it in the tip jar.

Gibbs didn't come in the next night or the next but Saturday evening he showed up as usual. He sat in his same spot and had his same bourbon on the rocks. Pete was busy with a good Saturday crowd so he didn't have time to say much of anything to Gibbs until he'd been there for an hour or so. When he finally had a break he refilled the pretzel bowl and asked Gibbs how he'd been.

"Fine. Busy."

"Sorry about the redhead the other night."

Gibbs looked at him and shrugged.

"I told her not to bother you but I guess she doesn't take direction very well."

"No problem."

Somebody yelled at him from across the room and Pete turned to see what was going on. One of the guys had bumped into Julie and spilled a tray of drinks. Pete went for the mop while Julie and the customer picked up the mess. While he was gone Jenny walked in and took a seat two stools down from Gibbs on his left just as she had done that Wednesday night. She was alone and she didn't speak to Gibbs when she sat down. He didn't even look over but he knew she was there. She wore a distinctive perfume and Gibbs had a knack for remembering that sort of thing. He forced himself to ignore her even though he wanted to look at her. He wanted another glimpse of those pretty green eyes.

Jenny waited patiently for someone to appear behind the bar and take her order. Finally, Pete returned and when he saw her he gave her a look that said he wasn't happy to see her. She was customer though so he swallowed his first reaction and asked her what she wanted to drink.

"Bourbon straight with water on the side, please."

Pete poured her a Makers Mark and served it to her along with a short glass of water. He admired her taste in drinks; in his experience, not many women enjoyed bourbon. This lady seemed to though. He pushed a bowl of pretzels her way and went back to getting drinks for Julie's customers.

The night progressed and neither Gibbs or Jenny spoke to the other and Jenny didn't approach him. Pete kept a wary eye on them but he was busy and didn't have time to pay much attention. Jenny seemed interested in the basketball game playing behind the bar and Gibbs, as usual, studied the bottom of his glass.

When he'd been there about two hours Gibbs laid some money on the bar and left. Jenny finished her second drink shortly after that and reached for her wallet to pay her tab. She handed Pete a twenty and told him to keep the change.

"May I ask you a question?"

Pete knew what was coming and he didn't want to hear it. But, he was more or less trapped behind the bar and she was a customer after all.

"Sure."

"The guy who just left, do you know him?"

"He's a customer so yeah I know him."

"He's a regular then I guess."

Pete didn't respond. She hadn't asked a question and he wasn't going to volunteer information about Gibbs to this lady no matter how attractive she was.

"I don't mean any harm and I'm not a stalker or anything like that. I'm just interested because he seems so…I don't know, sad I guess."

"Look ma'am I don't talk about customers to other customers. How would you like it if I talked about you to one of the guys over there playing pool?"

"I understand. I want you to know I don't want to cause any trouble and I certainly don't mean to put you on the spot. I liked what I saw the other night and he seems like maybe he could use a friend. That's all."

"Look, you seem like a nice enough lady but he doesn't really like to be bothered, you know."

"I understand. Maybe I'll see you again. Good night."

Over the next two weeks Jenny and Gibbs were never in the bar at the same time. Jenny came back twice one week and three times the next and Gibbs was in on and off but not when Jenny was there. Pete was beginning to like Jenny even though he didn't want to. She was always friendly and like Gibbs, she overpaid the tab every time. She was a sports fan and could hold her own in a discussion of the any of the local teams except the Capitals. That didn't bother Pete any; he wasn't much of a hockey fan himself. She asked Pete if Gibbs had been in and when he said not for a few days she seemed concerned.

"Is that normal? I mean I thought he was a real regular."

"He is. Maybe he's working out of town or something."

"What's he do?"

Pete just looked at her and shook his head. She knew that question was off limits. They spoke about Gibbs only in very general terms if at all.

"You don't think he'd stop coming because I'm coming do you? I mean if that's it I'll stop. I don't want to run him off."

"I doubt that's it. He never even acts like he knows you're here anyway."

"Oh he knows."

"Whatta ya mean? He talk to you or something?"

"No but he knows. I'd venture to say he knows everyone who comes in here. Maybe not by name but he could tell you something about each and every person who comes in here. The regulars at least. I have a feeling that guy doesn't miss much. Not when it comes to what's going on around him."

Pete thought about that and realized Jenny was probably right. Gibbs might seem to be spending all his time staring into his bourbon glass but Pete had to agree he probably never had anyone sneak up on him or surprise him in any way. He thought it was nice of Jenny to offer to stop coming in if it caused Gibbs a problem. He hoped that wasn't it. The more he got to know Jenny the more he wished Gibbs would at least talk to her.

On a Thursday night when the Redskins game was on TV, Jenny came in at the end of the first quarter and saw Gibbs sitting in his regular spot. The bar was pretty busy with lots of guys watching the game so Jenny had no choice but to sit on the stool next to Gibbs. She hesitated but then decided she might as well try to get him to at least say hello. In all the times they had been at the bar together he had never spoken to her. In fact she wasn't sure he had even looked her way.

Jenny was wrong in her conclusion that Gibbs had not looked at her when she was there. He knew exactly when she came in, what she was wearing every time and when she left. He had memorized her scent and the way she looked as she sipped her drink and the sound of her laugh when she and Pete were joking around. He had watched her talking to Julie and watched her walk to the ladies room and back again. The nights he came to get a drink and she wasn't there he was almost disappointed. He didn't want to be but there it was.

When she slid onto the seat next to him Gibbs unconsciously moved just a little to his right away from her. Her scent drifted up his nose and sent little sparks flying around inside his head. He gulped down the last of his drink and considered going home early. Before he could decide to do that Pete poured him another drink, put one down in front of Jenny and welcomed her.

Jenny took a sip of her drink and with that little bit of fortification she spoke to Gibbs for the first time since that Wednesday when she first tried to talk to him.

"Sorry, this was the only seat left. I'll move as soon as one opens up."

Without looking at her Gibbs mumbled, "No need."

With that slight encouragement Jenny went forward. "Don't know if you remember but my name's Jenny. Since we seem to be here together a lot, well not together but at the same time, I wonder if I could know your name."

Gibbs hesitated, took a sip then in the same mumble he said, "Gibbs."

Jenny felt like she'd scored a touchdown herself. He actually told her his name. Reluctantly to be sure but at least now she could address him directly.

She decided not to push things so she just said, "Nice to meet you Gibbs."

That was the extent of their conversation but eventually Gibbs scooted back to his original place on the stool and they both seemed to relax a little bit. Jenny got caught up in the game and noticed Gibbs looking up now and then but not with any real interest in the proceedings. They both reached for the pretzels at the same time once and Gibbs pulled his hand back like he'd been stung. Jenny had to smile at that. She felt somewhat like she was on a date in middle school.

Gibbs got up to leave as the third quarter ended and Jenny was sorry to see him going.

"Night Pete."

Jenny turned toward him and said, "Good night Gibbs."

He looked at her; directly at her for the first time in weeks and said, "Good night Jenny."

As he turned and left Pete looked at Jenny with something akin to shock on his face.

"He told you his name and he said good night to you. Wow."

"Yes, wow."

TBC