Leroy Jethro Gibbs stood in his basement surrounded only by the ever so familiar scent of sawdust and bourbon. He held in his hand a piece of sandpaper and a Mason jar. Throwing a glance to the cell phone sitting on a sawhorse, he saw that the time was already nearing midnight. It had been a long week. A Marine Petty Officer was found dead in an FBI office building, and the case had resulted in a jurisdiction battle and a long car chase.
But finally, another boat
was done. One burned, another in Mexico….Diane and Kelly. Should this one even have a name? The names always mean something, something he misses. Suddenly, the choice became clear. Gibbs began to carve the outline for the letters on the boat, all five of them, one after another. And as the clock ticked away the night, he filled in the outlines to form a name: JENNY
"Hey, Gibbs!" A voice calls from the top of the stairs. Gibbs sets down his brush.
"Yeah," he replied. Tony DiNozzo descended the steps. He looked distraught and worn down, not dissimilar to how Gibbs was feeling. But the older man felt sympathy for Tony-this most recent case result in some heartache. One of the suspects happened to be a member of Mossad, visiting the city from Israel. But unfortunately, this Israeli didn't even know anyone by the surname of David, much less Ziva or Eli David. Tony was disappointed with the result of his vague question, hoping to at least find a link to the Israeli, since it's already been a year.
"I miss her, Gibbs." Tony said. He leaned up against a counter. Gibbs reached for a jar, its contents a variety of screws and nails, and refills it with a strong brand of bourbon.
"Thanks," Tony muttered. He pulled out a smartphone from his pocket, and scrolled through it for a minute. Gibbs still hadn't said a word. When Tony showed him the screen, Gibbs leaned back and squinted at it. Managing a small chuckle, "Wear your glasses, old man," Tony said.
"What's it say?" Gibbs asked, a bit frustrated.
"It's my last conversation with Ziva. She sent this almost a year ago." The message read: 'I promise that I'll see you soon, Tony.'
"Have you talked to her?" wondered Gibbs.
"I've tried, Gibbs. But I have no way to contact her; she must've gotten a new number." Tony sat down slowly. Before he could speak again, his eyes caught on the black lettering on the newly sanded boat.
"Jenny…" the younger man said aloud. Gibbs shrugged noncommittally. "Does it help, Gibbs?"
"Hmm?" Gibbs grumbled, pretending to be focused on an unsanded ridge on the boat.
"To let 'em go. I miss her so much it hurts, and there's nothing I can do about it. She's gone." Tony reached into the pocket of his blue jeans and extracts a necklace: the Star of David on a golden chain. He pressed it against his heart, a familiar gesture.
"I miss her too. But she's long gone, and there's not much we can do now. I missed my opportunity when I got a second chance." Gibbs said, and Tony figured out that they weren't talking about the same person anymore. "If you get a second chance, take it. Don't think, don't act, just let 'er know how much she means to you."
Tony held the chain tightly in his hands, and breathed deeply. "You gonna burn her?" he choked finally, referring to the large wooden vessel. Gibbs shrugged. After a moment of silence, the silver haired man reached for a nail. He then held out his hand.
Tony looked down at the hand and the necklace, but shook his head. Gibbs meant to hang it in the boat, and be able to let go together.
"I don't think I'm ready. It's all I have of her. But, could'ya teach me how to work with wood?"
Gibbs chuckled. He took ahold of a tool on the table and held it out to the younger man. Together the two agents, closer than father and son, carved a simple four letters into the smooth wood of the boat. Finally, as they worked late into the night, the glossy black letters not only read JENNY but ZIVA as well.
"You're not totally crazy, this helped alot. But can we agree not to tell McGee and Bishop about this?" wondered Tony. Gibbs smirked. Tony stood back and admired the work on the boat. "They were friends, too. Hey boss, what do you think actually happened in Cairo?"