The town car trundled down the gravel road as the sky slowly darkened to slate gray. It was the kind of day when one could stand outside and actually feel the weather. Rather than just notice it, it demanded attention: pressure falling as a wind swept in, bringing clouds that passed overhead far to quickly for daydreamers, and a cold humidity that pervaded it all, one that could only be captured right before an early spring rain, too early in the year for the air to be warm with summer promise, but not quite cold enough for snow.
It was a simply dreary Saturday, and the first in weeks that Jennifer Shepard hadn't been at the office. Her driver pulled into the small parking lot. She asked him to wait there and then braved the weather. It hadn't begun to rain, but it still wasn't the ideal weather for taking a walk. Then again, she hadn't come here to take a constitutional.
She stuck to the small gravel pathways for as long as she could, wind chilling her revealed calf muscles as she silently wished she had worn pants. She veered of the path when she saw her target, moving quickly despite the stiletto heels, which sunk into to soil with each step.
Looking out from her perspective was a sobering sight. Row after row of large marble headstones stood in perfect militarily ordered symmetry, some adorned with flags, others decorated with red, white and blue flowers, all a somber patriotic sight. She was surprised that the cemetery was nearly empty. Every gravestone had relatives, with this many she thought there were bound to be more people.
The sky darkened and it began to look as though the world had decided on nightfall a few hours early.
Jennifer Shepard had reached her destination. She looked into the questioning eyes of Leroy Jethro Gibbs and smiled sadly.
"Dinozzo" she said by way of explanation. Gibbs let out a breadth he had been holding since he saw her approaching.
"How-" he began to question, but, as though she read his mind, she responded
"Dinozzo had McGee get a GPS location from your cell when you wouldn't pick up, but it was Abby who put two and two together and had the sense to check public records." she paused as though gathering the courage to let Gibbs know how much she knew.
"How old would Kelly have been today?" she said with all the warmth she could muster in the cold wind.
"Twenty" he said simply setting the small strawberry shortcake doll down next to the tombstone that marked the grave of his wife and daughter. He knew how much Kelly loved the doll. She had always pretended it was her mother.
"Let me drive you home and make you some coffee. I've already cleared my schedule, and your team will get on without you for an afternoon. You shouldn't be alone today" she left her sentiments vague because she had no desire to be explicit about the consequences of a depressed Jethro with Bourbon and weapons.
He gave a small nod before they set off across the cemetery, back to the main entrance. She had a feeling that Gibbs was trying not to cry. He seemed tenser, more reserved than usual. He seemed a little like the air before it let loose the rain.
When the arrived back at the parking lot, she went smoothly over to her driver and asked him to take the car back to headquarters. Gibbs held out the keys and she took them, tacitly understanding what it took for Gibbs to even subtly admit weakness.
They drove to his house in silence. Every so often she would look over to his face. It was a somewhat pained expression. His eye sockets seemed to tightened as though gripping their inhabitants with more force. His expression was blank, but every so often, she could see the corners of his mouth dip, ever so slightly, before he pulled himself back together.
She pulled the car into the spot in front of his house and turned to him. The rain had still not come and the atmosphere seemed as though it would soon burst from humidity. His eyes turned to her, and for the first time, he showed an inch of genuine happiness.
"Kelly would have liked you." he stated. "I think you and Shannon would have gotten along too." Jenny sat shocked. Gibbs never talked about his family. The last time his family had come up between the two of them it has resulted in his resignation. And yet, he had just, almost, barely, included her in the depths of his memories.
The rain began to fall. They watched drop after drop hit the windshield until there was a steady downpour.
"Coffee?" He asked.
"Thank you." It was all they needed to say. The rest was understood between them as they walked hand in hand, both soaked by the rain, neither caring.