Dearest Jethro,
I'm not normally one for sappy sentimentality but then again you know that, just as you know nearly everything about me. I say nearly because no matter how many times I hinted at it, you never noticed that I was still in love with you. No, Jethro, I do not say 'was' because I have fallen out of love with because I know that it simply cannot be done (something I learned the hard way). I say it because this letter was written when I had the sole purpose of defending you. I'd thrown my life away and I was not about to let that happen to yours because of my mistake. I should be dead by now, Jethro. I will not die slowly at the hands of a disease; I'd rather go guns blazing just as you would. Just remember rule number 18; it is better to seek forgiveness than to ask permission. Forgive me, Jethro. I want you to think of me fondly sometimes but don't you dare name a goddamned boat after me! I will personally come back and kill you. I wouldn't doubt you know that I'd find a way to make good on that promise. I love you, Jethro.
Forever Yours,
Jen
P.S. I've added a poem that seems funny to me. You may enjoy it, or more likely it will be wasted on you since you barely know your ABC's.
Maybe Somewhere,
A woman waits,
Red hair flaming,
Sunlight bouncing off her curls,
In desperation she prays,
Evening approaches,
Lover of her's has not yet been found,
Longing fills her as she waits,
Even as evening stretches into night,
She remains vigilant as ever.
Gibbs froze, hovering over the letter. This most certainly had not been in his basement when he left for work earlier this morning yet here it was. What was even more puzzling was the ink was rather fresh. That suggested forgery but Gibbs knew it to be wrong; that was Jenny's script and her signature. He'd know it anywhere and the scent wafting from the paper was her perfume too. So that was one problem but there was another. Second Problem? Jenny Shepard was dead. What the hell was going on? He glared at the paper as if expecting it to produce answers and suddenly his attention was caught by the poem. His heart fluttered; dare he hope?
*************Author's Note*****
The horrible poem was unfortunately written by me but it was necessary. Major points to whoever realizes the spoiler this gives tot eh next chapter. The poems the clue. Gibbs figured it out and he isn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed…just kidding. He IS the sharpest. He still figured it out. Good Luck. Until the next chapter!
