A/N: I feel like this 'verse has been slightly neglected lately! I will admit, this tag is (I feel) a bit different, but I enjoyed writing it. I dropped so many hints throughout the original story (and other tags) that Kelly wasn't as sweet as Gibbs always thought she was, that I felt like it should be addressed ... or, I was inspired to do so.

Note: Shannon is about two years old; Levi is about 8 (these are vague ages, because my notebook with exactitudes is at home in the USA)


The littlest Gibbs sat primly in her mother's lap, blissfully unawares of what she had accomplished, but content to enjoy the lavish affection that was being showered on her. She beamed cutely and looked up, scrunching her tiny nose and catching thick red curls in her hands.

Jennifer Gibbs grinned, and caught one of Lucy's little fists in her hand, squeezing it tightly. She let out a sigh of relief and kissed the baby's nose, snuggling her tightly against her chest for a moment. She leaned back against the couch; her husband nudged her thigh with his foot, rolling his eyes.

"You're actin' like she discovered the meaning of life," he growled, eyeing Lucy and smiling gruffly at her.

Jenny tilted her head back, running her fingers thought Lucy's thin, auburn curls.

"I thought she was never going to walk," she defended primly, pursing her lips at the baby fondly. "I spent my nights in agony, convinced she had faulty manufacturing—which would be your fault, naturally—"

"'Course," Gibbs muttered, glaring at her. He tilted his head at the baby and smirked. "She's not that late, Jen," he reminded her. "Kelly was about a year when she walked."

"Kelly was nine months," Jenny retorted smartly, turning to him and arching a brow—he looked a bit sheepish; Jenny knew Kelly's baby book better than he did. "Levi was eight months."

"Levi is a freak of nature," Gibbs muttered under his breath, and Jenny glared at him—Gibbs was currently having a small feud with his grandson because Levi, a mere child, had a better pitching arm than he did.

Jenny stroked Lucy's soft hair again, and pressed a kiss to the baby's temple.

"Peter was nine months," she murmured softly, patting Lucy's leg affectionately. She turned a serious glare onto her husband, and narrowed her eyes. "Therefore, my concern over Lucy's failing to move until she was thirteen months old is valid."

Gibbs rolled his eyes again, and snorted. He held his hand out.

"She went straight to runnin'," he pointed out. "Makes up for it."

He'd seen so many babies accomplish this milestone lately, that he was a little hardened to it—though he had enjoyed the sort of rush of excitement he'd gotten when he saw Lucy suddenly get up and unsteadily chase the dog across the living room floor. He knew Jenny was smarting because Kelly's youngest had walked before Lucy—but to be fair, Shannon was almost nine months older.

Jenny made a soft, derisive noise, and went back to showering attention on Lucy, who was still oblivious—and growing slightly tired of being cuddled up in her mother's arms. She swiveled, and looked at Gibbs.

"Da Da," she said, pointing at him.

Jenny loosened her grip, and Lucy crawled over him, digging her knees and palms into his legs, and then his ribs. He was careful to make sure she wouldn't hurt herself, and managed to press a protective kiss to her forehead before she climbed off the couch and toddled to the coffee table, standing at it and playing sweetly with her colourful blocks.

Jenny rested her hand on Gibbs' ankle, and smirked.

"Ha," she laughed. "She runs once, and thinks she can do anything," she remarked.

Lucy stepped back, and stepped forward, rearranging her toys. Gibbs smirked at the baby, smugly proud of her little accomplishment. Jenny tilted her head, watching Lucy move around slowly, but surely.

"Next thing you know, she'll be sneakin' out of windows," Jenny cooed, batting her eyelashes.

"Her bedroom doesn't have a window," growled Gibbs dangerously, shooting an annoyed look at his wife.

"That didn't stop your other offspring," retorted Jenny.

Gibbs glared at her, refusing to ask for elaboration, and nudged her thigh with his foot again, this time aggressively. She flicked him in the knee, and his leg jerked. He shot her a look, and she snorted, turning back to Lucy, and tilted her head.

"It's time to enroll her in gymnastics, then," she sighed dramatically, "start prepping her for Olympic gold."

Gibbs snorted.

"Nah, she's gonna be lawyer, put that stubbornness to good use," he retorted.

"Good thing you gave her that stubbornness."

"Yeah, Jen, it's all on me," he retorted sarcastically.

She nodded solemnly, eyes wide and innocent.

"I am a perfectly compliant angel of a woman," she remarked.

Gibbs laughed aloud, and Lucy turned around to beam at him, her attention drawn by the sound. She giggled, and stuck her tongue out, and Jenny laughed, running her palm over Gibbs' leg affectionately.

"She might be a comedienne," she stated, tilting her head.

Lucy mimicked her, and stuck her tongue out again—god, she was adorable.

"Doctor," grunted Gibbs.

"Ooh, I like this game," Jenny said, her eyes glinting mischievously. "The conniving parents plan the child's future, leaving her no recourse for individuality."

Gibbs rolled his eyes, but smirked slightly—lazy Sundays like this were his favorite part of the week, and Jenny's humor—infuriating as it could be—was always entertaining.

"I think she's going to be a no-nonsense corporate CFO with a soft side, who eventually falls in love with the office janitor—working all those lonely nights," Jenny grinned, shooting him a devilish look. "Your turn."

He grunted, tilting his head back thoughtfully.

"English teacher," he retorted. "She gets in trouble for hitting smart-ass students in the back of the head with textbooks."

"Wonder where she'd get that technique," snorted Jenny. She chewed her lip, studying Lucy, and then laughed. "Ah, okay—so, she becomes a Broadway actress, with a drinking problem—"

"Jesus, Jen," groaned Gibbs. "Give her a promising future."

"Queen of England," Jenny decided.

Gibbs swung his legs off the couch and sat forward, rubbing his jaw.

"What is she, ten thousandth in line for the throne?"

"There's English in my heritage," Jenny defended.

"Somewhere behind all the Irish?" he retorted.

"Ye're cruisin' for a bruising, lad," she said, affecting an Irish brogue.

He cocked an eyebrow, impressed with the accent and then leaned forward, pressing down on his knees as he started to get up.

"Let's focus on getting her to her twenties without a kid, eh?" he suggested dryly, heading towards the kitchen. "You want me to grab her bottle?" he asked.

"Yeah, she deserves the chocolate milk, add a little syrup," Jenny answered, and then laughed, reaching forward and coaxing Lucy to look at her. She smirked wryly, and without thinking, retorted: "You know, you've got a wife this time around, Jethro, I think we can at least get her to sixteen with her virginity intact."

She didn't think anything of it, until she heard a clattering noise from the kitchen. She closed her eyes lightly, mentally kicking herself, and then looked frankly into Lucy's little green ones.

"Shit," she murmured—Lucy wasn't talking yet, so she wasn't neurotic about swearing in front of her. "Mama is screwed."

Gibbs slowly came back into the living room, a half-mixed bottle of chocolate milk in his hands. She eyed Lucy for as long as she could, and then looked over at him, her expression mild. He stared at her, his jaw tight, and then moved his head, as if he had heard her wrong.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked curtly.

She grit her teeth together and blinked calmly.

"I am teasing you, Jethro," she said carefully.

His eyes narrowed darkly.

"Yeah, I heard you," he growled, taking a few steps closer. He started the shake the bottle, still glaring at her. "You said with a wife, I can get her to sixteen with her—still a—" he broke off. "You sayin' I didn't do that last time?" he demanded.

She didn't say anything.

"Jen?" he prompted aggressively, tilting his head. "You tellin' me Kelly was—?"

He stopped again. The idea that his little girl had been sexually active when she was—sixteen or—god forbid, younger—he couldn't comprehend the idea. He had never even thought she was that interested in boys until—

He refused to break eye contact with Jenny, and she compressed her lips.

"Let it go," she said quietly.

"No," he retorted firmly, his hand slowing. "Jen, what the hell are you talkin' about?" he asked. "Kelly was having sex when she was sixteen?" he growled, bristling.

Jenny looked away pointedly, down at Lucy, and Gibbs stepped forward, his hand freezing.

"Younger?" he asked, his voice strangled.

Jenny sat back, letting Lucy go toddle curiously over to the Golden Retriever sleeping lazily by the fireplace. She rubbed her jaw and sat forward on the couch, struggling—she had learned these things about Kelly before she married Jethro, when she was just a confidant and close friend, a boss, and not a stepmother, and she had always valued Kelly's privacy when it came to her personal life.

"She was fifteen," she said carefully—she didn't feel like instigating a fight by lying to him or ignoring the subject, and she'd rather take responsibility for outing Kelly than having Gibbs barge into his daughter's house and humiliate her.

Gibbs' hand fell to his side limply, and a few drops of chocolate milk spilled onto the floor. He stared at his wife, blindsided by the information, rooted to the spot—Kelly? His Kelly? His driven, smart, practical little Kelly—fifteen years old? Had he—had he really been that pathetically blind to her, as a father?

Jenny leaned back slightly, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Jethro," she began softly.

He ignored her. He swallowed hard, and walked forward stiffly, moving over to Lucy and handing her the bottle of chocolate milk. She took it sweetly in one hand, and continued stroking Malarkey's tail with the other, singing softly to him in a babyish lullaby. Gibbs sat down heavily on the couch, leaving considerable space between himself and Jenny. He rubbed his jaw harshly. He swore under his breath, and looked over at her narrowly, his expression grim.

"Fifteen?" he repeated, still unable to believe what he'd heard.

Jenny rolled her eyes, frustrated with his reaction.

"She told me you thought her fling with Levi's father was the first time she'd done it, and I thought she was kidding," she said shortly.

He grit his teeth roughly.

"Why would I have any reason to think otherwise?" he growled sharply, his shoulders tense. He turned towards Jenny, one hand braced on his knee. "She never had boyfriends," he snapped. "I didn't let her date until she was seventeen—what the hell—who the hell—" he stopped, and reached up to rub his mouth in frustration again.

Jenny watched him, neglecting her vigil on Lucy for a moment—Malarkey would alert her if the baby was up to something, anyway. She cleared her throat, and lowered her chin, trying to catch his eyes.

"It isn't your place to know, Jethro," she remarked mildly.

"But it's yours?" he fired back viciously, giving her a seething look. "I'm her father, it sure as hell is my business! I thought she was a good girl, Jen," he hissed. "When she was fifteen, I was still buyin' her dolls for Christmas—"

"And you never thought that was a little problematic?" Jenny asked, exasperated.

He gave her an angry look, but he felt chastised, and that made him defensive.

"Don't say she wasn't a good girl, Jethro," Jenny began.

"She was just a baby!" he barked.

Jenny pointed sharply at Lucy.

"That is a baby," she said firmly. "Fifteen is not a baby—"

"She was a little kid!"

"Fifteen is half a woman, Jethro!"

"You're tellin' me you'd be fine with Lucy comin' home at that age and tellin' us she was having sex?" he demanded.

"No," Jenny said calmly. "I would not be okay with it, and I do not think having sex at that age is appropriate or healthy—but that doesn't make Kelly a bad girl—"

"I thought I was doin' okay without Shannon, and you tell me she was the easiest teenager in Alexandria?" he shouted.

Jenny looked taken aback.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs," she snapped, reaching out and grabbing his hand. "Don't you ever call your daughter a slut. It would break her heart to hear you say that. It would kill her," she told him harshly.

He looked stricken, and frustrated still, and she squeezed his hand tightly.

"You tell me what you knew about Kelly at that age."

He swallowed bitterly.

"She was top of her class, wasn't she?" Jenny prompted. "She won the state-wide spelling bee three times, and the science fair. She was student of the year, Future Business Leaders of America president," Jenny paused, raising her eyebrows at him. "Kelly was good girl. You raised a good girl."

"She was having sex at fifteen!"

"And you, Jethro? When did you—"

"Nineteen," he snapped fiercely. "Told you that on our first date," he snapped. "And it was her mother, not a bunch of random—"

Jenny stroked his and, trying to calm him down. She understood that it was a shock for him to hear this, and it trampled on his nerves, but she wanted him to be sensible about this—and besides, there was nothing that could be done now.

"Jethro," she said in a cool voice. "Kelly's private live had nothing to do with you. It still doesn't. She was missing having a mother. She was trying to figure out how to grow up. It doesn't mean you were a bad father—"

"It sounds like it does, Jen," he growled, frustrated. "I got her Barbies for Christmas, so she started having sex?"

Jenny smirked, and shook her head. She sighed, and titled her head back, and ignored that comment.

"It wasn't a lot of guys, or random ones," she placated, though she definitely wasn't going to go into any more detail, for Kelly's sake. "You kept her safe, fed, and healthy."

"I never talked to her about birth control," he snapped. "She could have gotten," he stopped, and then snorted. "That explains a lot," he decided bitterly.

Jenny slapped is wrist harshly.

"She used birth control like clockwork, Jethro; I told you, you raised a smart girl. She wasn't stupid."

"She ended up pregnant at nineteen," he snapped sourly. "She forget how to use birth control? You're suppose to get wiser with age!"

"Levi—that was a mistake she made; she thought she was in love. She wasn't being careful at that point in her life, not like she was in high school, and she frankly admits that; you know how it was-"

"I don't," Gibbs growled. "I don't know a damn thing about Levi's biological father. She refused to tell me anything, and I could have wrung her neck every time she told me it wasn't my business. That bastard—"

"It's very painful for her to talk about," Jenny placated curtly. "She's only ever told Tim the whole story. Get over yourself, Duke, you don't have a right to Kelly's sex life."

"She was a minor!"

"And you didn't know a damn thing about it until five minutes ago," Jenny retorted sharply.

He wrenched his hand from her grasp and put his hands over his face. He looked through his fingers at Lucy, watching her snuggle up with the dog, remembering Kelly at that age. He'd still had Shannon when Kelly was a baby—would Kelly have grown up so fast if Shannon hadn't been killed, or if he'd remarried while she was still in her formative years? Had he somehow—been so disconnected from her that she felt like she had to look for love elsewhere?

He'd always thought he'd done well. He'd tried his damndest to make life as golden as he could.

His shoulders slumped, and he lowered his hands, looking down at them as if they were dirty.

He swallowed hard.

"I didn't do very well," he said roughly, his eyes on Lucy again.

"I was teasing, Jethro," she said quietly. "You have to understand, Kelly made her own choices, for her own reasons. And somewhere…I can tell you, she decided to stop having sex until she was older, because it was making her feel bad about herself, and she went back to staying home with you on the weekends," Jenny soothed.

Still watching Lucy, Gibbs remembered—she had been going to movies and sleepovers and skating rinks and hangouts a lot when she was fifteen and sixteen—and then she'd gotten less social when she was older, studying more—to get into UVA.

He nodded, and Jenny moved closer, pressing her lips to his shoulder.

"You're a good father, you know," she told him quietly. "And you know…parenting is a crapshoot. We could do everything perfect for Lucy, and she still might turn into a stripper with a meth addiction—"

"Jen," he groaned hoarsely.

She smirked, and looked over at the baby.

"She's got it just as good as Kelly did, babe," Jenny complimented. "Little girls just need daddies who love them, that's all. And Kelly always knew you loved her more than life itself."

He rubbed his forehead, still feeling doubtful. He wish he could have seen Kelly having trouble, missing her mom, wishing she had a woman to talk to. She must have been trying to show him she was growing up, and he'd just been blind to it—wanting to keep her little forever, giving her dolls when she should have been buying her lip-gloss and make-up and letting her go shopping with her friends instead of him.

He'd been good at being a little girl's daddy, but he must have lost his way somewhere around her first bra.

Jenny nudged him with her knee.

"You can't confront Kelly about this, Jethro," she warned firmly, catching his eye. "She's married. She's a mother. It's all in the past."

He met her eyes, and nodded stiffly—yeah; it wasn't his business. He understood, and he didn't want to shame his daughter—but guilt and regret was still burning in his gut, and he felt like secluding himself in the basement—he needed to finish a mini playground for Lucy, anyway.

Jenny looked at him intently, and then turned her head—she smiled at her little runner; Lucy was half asleep, bottle in her mouth, on top of the dog.

"LJ," she cooed, calling to the little girl. "Who do you want to put you down for night-night?" she asked softly.

Lucy smacked her lips, peering at Jenny primly.

"Da Da," she said.


He had assured his wife he wasn't going to confront Kelly about her—past—and he intended to adhere to that promise; but he couldn't shake the niggling whisper in the back of his mind that kept telling him he'd failed Kelly—and he had to get rid of that. He had no idea how to talk to her without alerting her that something was up—which he supposed was a reflection of how bad he'd been at talking to her when she was growing up. His opportunity came, however, when she called him one morning desperate for help with the kids.

He ended up sitting in her kitchen, Shannon on his lap, helping her get the kids breakfast. She was in the middle of cooking and getting ready, and she kept tucking auburn hair behind her ears tightly.

"What did you do with little sister?" Kelly asked, distracted.

"She's at work with Jen," Gibbs grunted, trying to force Shannon to eat her banana slices.

Shannon grabbed the banana out of his hand and threw it at Levi.

"Shannon Abigail, no ma'am," Kelly snapped automatically, smacking a spatula on the counter and turning back to the stove.

"Mom, where are my pancakes?"

"Levi, drink your juice and shut up."

Levi moved his mouth mockingly and stuck his tongue out; Gibbs reached over and grabbed it, giving him a look.

"Don't sass your mother, son," he snapped.

Levi yanked his tongue back into his mouth and gave his grandfather a sullen look.

Tim was at a cyber conference for NCIS for the next five days, and Kelly had forgotten how hectic mornings without him were—especially since Shannon was in a stubborn phase, and Levi was in a generally obnoxious half-grown boy phase.

Gibbs tried to give Shannon another banana, and she chucked it across the room.

"I don't think she likes bananas," he said blandly.

"She's going to eat what I put on her plate," snapped Kelly, turning around. She tucked her spatula into her belt for a moment and leaned across the counter. "Shannon, you eat your bananas, or you don't eat until lunch, you got that sweet thing?"

Shannon stared at Kelly, and turned to Gibbs, leaning into his chest and reaching for her bananas obediently. Kelly smirked, satisfied, and shot Levi a warning look when she saw him sneaking towards the stove.

"Hands off the bacon, Levi, Jesus—you'll burn yourself again!"

Kelly gave her son an exasperated look and shook her head.

"Dad, you want breakfast?"

He looked at her warily, and shook his head—as if she needed any more trouble.

"Gunny," Shannon said, munching on her breakfast. "Where Woozy?"

"She's at NCIS," he said. He looked up. "Lucy started walking," he said, a hint of a brag in his voice.

"Ahhh, Dad, that's awesome!" Kelly cried, bouncing a little. "Levi, can you make your sister's sippy cup, please?"

Levi slammed his Gameboy down and got up to obey, rolling his eyes. Kelly ignored his attitude, and grabbed a plate for him, flipping a pancake onto it and dousing it in syrup.

"Here," she said gently, handing it to him. She kissed his head while he poured juice for Shannon. "Bacon in just a minute," she soothed. "Dad, you sure? No eggs, bacon-?"

He shook his head, watching Levi dig into his food, and he made sure Shannon's sippy cup was tightly secure before giving it to her. He watched his granddaughter happily drinking for a moment, and looked up. He cleared his throat.

"Kel," he grunted. "Was I a good father?"

Kelly paused, and for a moment the only sound was Levi stabbing his pancake aggressively, and the sizzling of bacon in the pan. She turned around, her brows furrowed, and stared at him a moment.

"Well, yeah, Daddy," she said, waving her hand. She turned back to breakfast and shook her head. He saw her flip over some bacon expertly, and then she glanced at him over her shoulder, studying him intently. "I'm still alive, aren't I?" she teased.

He didn't exactly smile, and she paused again, turning around. She sighed uncertainly, and lowered her voice.

"Is this about," she gestured vaguely at Levi. "Dad, I, uh, I thought you were over that."

He shook his head slowly, and Kelly pushed her spatula away. She tucked her hair behind her ears, and then placed her hands on her hips, looking at him critically. She took a breath and turned to Levi.

"Levisaurus, can you go grab Shannon's shoes?" she asked matter-of-factly.

Levi stood up, grumbling, and started out of the kitchen.

"Stop callin' me that," he growled.

Kelly rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"He's, like, such a cool dude now," she told Gibbs, feigning a buff teenager's tone. She blinked and stepped forward, leaning in the counter a little impatiently. "You know, Levi wasn't exactly your fault—do you need a lesson in reproductive—"

"Kelly," he growled in a strained tone. She smirked, and he shifted Shannon on his lap, glancing down at her. He grit his teeth and looked back up seriously. "You know what I'm askin'," he grunted.

"No, I don't," she said frankly. She lifted her shoulders. "What's this about, Dad? You drop Lucy on her head or somethin'?"

He cracked a small smile, and his daughter grinned at him, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"I give you enough attention?" Gibbs asked gruffly, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. He lifted his shoulders stiffly. "After, uh, Shannon died?"

Kelly chewed on her lower lip, studying him intently. She wasn't sure why her father had picked now—such a hectic morning—to have a heart-to-heart with her about her childhood, and she didn't know what he was asking, exactly, but she sensed there was a right answer she needed to give.

He continued to wait pointedly for an answer, and she tilted her head sideways.

"It isn't easy to be a single parent, you know," she remarked mildly. "I think you forget that I had to do it, too? And, you know, it would have been easier if Levi was a girl, like it would have been easier for you if I was a boy—"

"Kel, I never wished—"

"You know what I mean," she said, waiving her hand wryly—she meant he'd have found it much easier to teach a kid how to play baseball than to teach a kid how to use a tampon. She shrugged her shoulders. "It's hard to be a good parent if you had a bad one," she informed him. "It can be done, but it's difficult. Do you think I'm a good mother?" she asked.

He looked startled.

"'Course you are," he said, almost offended that she'd think otherwise.

She gave him a matter-of-fact look, and she leaned forward and took Shannon easily, lifting her onto her hip and giving her an affectionate look and a kiss on the forehead.

"These kids would be disasters if you hadn't given me a good example," she said, snorting, and then nodded her head at Levi as he came marching back into the room. "Don't forget you were his father figure for half his life."

"Yeah, Gunny, it's not like Timmy Dad taught me how to pitch," he snorted.

Kelly swatted him.

"Your father is a very talented man," she reprimanded.

"Not at baseball."

"Levi Michael."

Levi snorted and went back to his breakfast. Kelly turned and got the bacon from the pan, the baby still on her hip, and passed it over to him. Levi eagerly took it from her and beamed, munching on it happily.

Gibbs leaned forward, finishing off the rest of Shannon's bananas slowly. Kelly wiped off the baby's mouth and glanced over at him, arching an eyebrow.

"Lucy's a year old, Dad, it's a little late for you to have doubts," she said.

He shrugged, and studied her. She was a good girl—Kelly had finished school even after Levi, and at a fantastically acclaimed school, as well; she worked and raised a family, she was compassionate, she was authoritative—he didn't know why it had bothered him so much to find out that one little thing—residual desire he had to keep her a little princess forever, he supposed.

"…and if you can pick up Levi from baseball, that would be great," Kelly was saying, and the next thing he knew, she was handing him Shannon again. "And—well, if Jenny has little sister at work, I can take Shannon in, I guess—unless you want to take her, Dad?"

"I'll take her," he agreed automatically, smiling at the baby.

She beamed at him, her face so similar to his Lucy's, and he scrunched up his nose at her.

Kelly darted out of the kitchen, and she grabbed her purse and keys, shouting for Levi to hurry up—he was going to be late for school.

"Thanks, she hates NCIS childcare, and I don't have the luxury of the director's office, so I can't keep her with me," she muttered. "Levi, shoes," she ordered absently.

Gibbs stood up, peering in Shannon's bag to make sure everything was there—somehow, even when Jenny took their baby to work, he always ended up with a kid to keep an eye one. He reached into the bag and took out a teething ring, shaking it at Shannon with a smirk, and Kelly ushered Levi towards the door. She came over to give her daughter a quick goodbye kiss, and pecked her father on the cheek chastely. She rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, pausing to catch his eye.

"Daddy," she began quietly. She studied him a moment. "Did Jenny say something to you?" she asked.

She considered him perceptively; he shrugged, his face blank.

"'M sorry I got you all those Barbies for Christmas," he told her bluntly.

She looked taken aback, and then she smiled wryly, and raised her eyes to the ceilings—Jenny must have let something slip, then, and she almost felt bad for her poor, scandalized father.

She patted his shoulder again, and winked.

"They weren't just Barbies," she laughed, exasperated. "They were—the Kelly dolls, you know, the little girl ones," she smirked at him, teasing him a little, and bit her lip.

He looked at her warily, still feeling—guilty, somehow.

"Daddy," she said calmly. "There are a few things about my teenage years I would change," she remarked simply, shrugging. She leaned forward, and cocked an eyebrow. "Not a single one of them has anything to do with you."

He raised his eyebrows, and she gave him a look, pinching him. She rolled his eyes.

"You did good, Gunny."


In an unexpected turn of events, Jenny's car was in the drive when he brought Shannon back to their house. He glared warily at the front door as he unbuckled Shannon and let her amble out of the car. She hopped ahead of him happily, darting up to the front door.

"Nen-nee?" she asked perkily.

"Hmm," Gibbs grunted. "Yeah, looks like Nen-nee's home," he muttered, opening the front door and nudging Shannon in before him. "Jen?" he called.

"Nen-nee?" Shannon mimicked, cupping her hands over her mouth.

"Did you bring a stray home with you?" Jenny called down the stairs, her voice muffled. She appeared a second later, a sullen looking Lucy secured firmly on her hip, and spared a quick smile for little Shannon.

"What're you doing home?" Gibbs asked suspiciously.

"Why are you cheating on Lucy with that one?" Jenny retorted, nodding at Shannon.

Shannon twirled in a circle, beaming up at Lucy.

"Hey-hey, Woozy," she greeted.

Lucy turned her head rapidly and waved at her, and Gibbs noticed a bright purple bandage on her forehead, just above her eye. He narrowed his eyes, folded his arms, and glared at Jenny.

"What the hell happened?"

She came down the stairs, stepping to the level ground in front of him and looking exasperated.

"She went from sitting on her butt all the time like an evolutionary failure to refusing to do anything but run, walk, wander around," she said, frustrated. "I can't take her to work anymore—she fell down the catwalk stairs," Jenny admitted.

"Jen—"

"I was watching her; she yanked her hand out of my grip and took off," she snapped.

Lucy leaned forward, whining softly, and reached for Gibbs. He took her, and Jenny pushed her hair back unhappily.

"Ducky patched her up. It didn't need stitches."

Gibbs ran his hand gently over Lucy's injury and refrained from saying anything else. He knew Jenny probably felt awful, even over the accident, and he just let it go, leaning forward to soothe the hurt with a kiss.

"You're stuck with me'n'Shannon then, Goosey," he told her, shrugging.

She mimicked the shrug, and stuck her tongue out.

"Da Da," she mumbled through it, blinking at him.

Jenny put a hand on her hip, looking at her guiltily, and then she fixed her gaze on Gibbs.

"I've got to go back to the office," she said shortly, and cocked an eyebrow. "You think you can handle both of 'em?"

He rolled his eyes at her—he watched all three kids all the time. She grinned, and tossed her head.

"Don't let any vagabonds come and take their chastity while you're wrapping Barbies," she teased.

He shot her a pained look, and then glared at her.

"She said it was a the Kelly dolls," he said, without thinking.

Jenny narrowed her eyes at him. She reached out and slapped his wrist.

"I told you plainly not to confront her—do you have a hearing deficiency? Did I marry a geriatric?" she demanded tensely. "Earth to Helen Keller, did you just deliberately disobey me?"

He shrugged.

"I didn't," he defended shortly. "Just asked her if I was a good father."

"For the love of God, you massive head case, you think I would have procreated with you if I thought you sucked at raising younglings?" hissed Jenny, rolling her eyes. "Your ego takes everything so damn personally—it was Kelly trying to grow up, Jethro, it wasn't you—you know, my father raised me on his own, and I was a virgin until I married Jim," she said loudly.

He raised his eyebrows, and she snorted, shoving past him. She grabbed her things, ready to return to work, and shook her head.

"Parenting is a fluke," she said bluntly, looking between both the baby girls, and then meeting his eyes again. She pointed sharply at Lucy. "If you do half as good a job with my baby as you did with Kelly, I'll be satisfied."

She gave him another protracted roll of the eyes and left the house, waving goodbye to the little girls.

The door shut behind her, and Gibbs looked between Lucy and Shannon. Shannon sat down on the step and looked up at him cutely, cradling her small face in her palms and giggling. Lucy reached out, grabbed his cheek, and pinched him hard, smirking at him impishly.

Jenny was right, and Kelly was right, and he shouldn't be beating himself up and thinking he'd let Kelly be a bad girl—she was good, and her children were good, and Lucy was good, and in the grand scheme of things, they were doing the best they could.

Still—

He sat down next to Shannon and put his arm around her, balancing both of the innocent little girls in his lap. He gave them both affectionately stern looks, and cleared his throat.

"No Barbies for Christmas," he told them solemnly. "I promise."


GIBBS + BABIES ALL THE TIME
-alexandra

story# 188