A/N: Oh, I can never resist re-visiting the LB/SF universe 'round Christmas time-though, I've done it a bit differently this time. It's back in time rather than forward; Levi is just a baby (at 3 months old), and there is no glimpse of Jenny or McGee or the other, usual suspects...though there are a few guest stars.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs stood in his kitchen, holding a meager glass of bourbon and leaning tiredly on the counter. He reached up to rub his temples slowly, trying his best not to let his mood be overcome by the irritation he was feeling. It was a struggle, but he was managing.
He knew it wasn't her fault, or the baby's fault, but his head was aching from the crying—he just wanted it to stop, and it had hardly stopped all day.
Gibbs swallowed down the rest of his drink and rinsed the glass out in the sink, wincing as the grating sound of running water mixed with his fairly newborn grandson's frustrated crying. Gibbs stuck the glass in the drainer and left the kitchen, venturing back into the living room.
His daughter was bent over an unorganized basket of baby items, her hair swept back into a messy, knotted ponytail. She had buckled Levi back into his bouncer and had him near the coffee table by the fire and the Christmas tree while she searched.
Kelly Gibbs, twenty years old, threw up her hands suddenly and gave a muted shout of exasperation, holding a blanket in one hand pressing her palm to her forehead with the other. Gibbs approached slowly, eyeing Levi cautiously.
"What's wrong?" Gibbs asked quietly.
"I can't find," Kelly started, whirling around to run her hand around the cracks in the couch. "I can't find his pacifier. I don't know where I put it," she said rapidly, gritting her teeth.
She looked around helplessly, her forehead wrinkled. Levi continued to fuss and cry, his face red and wet with tears. He jerked his feet and arms, unhappy with the bouncer. Gibbs stepped back and glanced around the area.
"Where did you last have it?"
"I don't know," she growled. "If I did, I wouldn't be looking for it," Kelly snapped, shooting him a lethal look.
"I'm trying to help, Kel," Gibbs said warningly.
"By asking stupid questions?" Kelly shot back, searching the ground near the tree.
Gibbs chose to ignore the attitude. It was hard to put a daughter with a baby in time-out, anyway—and though Kelly's stress didn't justify her acidic remarks, he could at least understand what was provoking her sass.
"Levi," cooed Kelly, trying to keep her voice level. "Levi, hush, give Mommy a minute," she trilled, reaching over and pressing her hand to his cheek in a brief, comforting moment. She whirled around and closed her eyes, shaking her head tensely. "Stop crying for one second, Levi," she murmured to herself, almost in a panic.
Gibbs held up his hands.
"He had it earlier, right?" he asked.
"After I fed him," she agreed desperately. "But he kept spitting it out, and it fell on the—it fell on the carpet," she broke off, snapping her fingers. "And I washed it. Watch him," she ordered, darting towards her bathroom.
Gibbs walked around the couch, glad that had been solved, and sat on the couch in front of Levi, reaching forward to pull the bouncer a little closer to him. He looked at his three-month-old grandson and lowered his eyes, trying to peer into the unhappy, crying little blue ones that the child had squinted so tightly.
"Levi," he said. "You want to give your mom a break, here?" he asked. He lowered his voice sarcastically. "Then she'd give us all one," he added. Levi continued to fuss, oblivious.
"Here," Kelly said breathlessly, handing Levi's pacifier over her father's shoulder. "Try this, see if he'll take it now."
Gibbs took it, offered it slowly to Levi, and then stood up and moved closer to the fire when the baby took it and was content for a moment. Gibbs knelt down and messed with the flames, making sure none were too close to the pine needles that the tree left near the hearth.
Levi made a spluttering noise, and began crying again.
Kelly groaned.
"What is wrong?" she asked, desperate again. Gibbs heard her unbuckling him, and turned, watching her. She stood up, snuggling the baby close to her shoulder and patting his back. "Levi, what is wrong?" she begged, murmuring loudly.
She let out her breath in a dramatic sigh and began to pace.
Gibbs stood up, silent, and rubbed a hand over his mouth, looking down at the baby's abandoned pacifier. The day had been altogether horrible, and that was not what Christmas Eve was supposed to be. There had always been a certain melancholy to this holiday since Shannon had died, but it hadn't been this bad in a while—Levi was inconsolable, Kelly was in a vicious, exhausted mood, and he was still trying to cope with being a father to the little girl who, still an eight-year-old in his eyes, had blindsided him with an accidental pregnancy nine months ago.
He knew Kelly hadn't been a little girl for a long time now, longer than he'd like to think about, but it was still difficult for him to handle the fact that she had a baby. It wasn't that he was bothered by being a grandfather, it was that it was so unexpected, an in such an undesirable situation.
She'd been nineteen, a sophomore in college, and from what he could gather from her stubborn, vague explanation of what happened, not actually in a relationship with the father. She hadn't had any idea of what she was going to do beyond the fact that she'd wanted to keep the baby, and she'd been scared and looking for comfort that he didn't understand how to give.
Kelly had finished out her semester at the University of Virginia, which meant they had about two months apart after she had dropped the bombshell on him, and when she'd moved back home and started the process of transferring schools and figuring out how she was going to work and go to school and comply with the strict guidelines Gibbs was giving her, it had become clear to both of them that nothing was going to be easy.
He was hard on her. And Kelly was still sort of a teenager who wanted to be with her friends and live the college life. She was trying to balance schoolwork with Levi and trying to feel out her role as a mother, and Gibbs was trying to hold the situation together with the abundance of free time he'd been given after retiring from the Corps.
He felt out of place in his own home, he was still angry with Kelly over her refusal to tell him just who the hell she had been involved with, and he couldn't shake the lurking feeling of disappointment in her.
Kelly was suddenly standing right in front of him, giving him a look.
"Dad," she snapped, as if he'd lost his mind. "Move," she ordered, thrusting her hand out to wave him away. She was trying to get past him to the Christmas tree. He moved, turning to watch her, and she went to the tree, crouching a little to play a musical ornament for Levi.
"Levi," she said, though she didn't sound at all soothing anymore, only tense. "Levi, listen! Listen to Frosty sing," she coaxed, playing the musical ornament again. She hummed gently to the tune, still stroking his back gently.
She stood, shaking her head.
"Honey, what is it?" she asked again. Kelly sat down heavily and held Levi in her lap, cradling his head gently. She stared down at him. "What do you want?" she asked. "I don't understand what you want!"
Gibbs started to speak.
Kelly glared, gritting her teeth.
"Levi," she cried hoarsely. "Levi, Mommy loves you, but I want to shake you!"
"Kelly," said Gibbs sharply, starting forward.
Her head snapped up and she glared at him, her eyes shining brightly with suppressed tears.
"What?" she demanded. "What, Daddy?"
"Take it easy," Gibbs started.
"I don't want to hear it!" barked Kelly. "Don't tell me to take it easy—it isn't easy! It's hard! I haven't slept more than six hours this entire week!"
She stood up, her movements still gentle as she cradled Levi against her shoulder again. He cried still, but Kelly focused on Gibbs, her face pale, the dark circles under her eyes illuminated by Christmas tree lights and the fire in the hearth.
"He has been crying all day," she gasped.
"I know," Gibbs raised his voice a little. "I know, Kelly—"
"You do?" she asked. "Then you know that he's warm enough, he's been fed, he doesn't have a fever, he doesn't have the sniffles, I've tried the pacifier, I've tried the swing, I've held him close, I've let him cry—then you know nothing is working and I'm about to lose my mind!"
Her lip trembled and she shrank back, tilting her head to the ceiling. She looked back at him angrily, and he saw the glint in her eyes that meant she was searching for something to say that would hit him painfully.
"Why don't you help me, Daddy?" she asked. "Stop standing over me with your judgment and just watching and help me! I know you're disappointed in me and I'm sorry—I'm sorry I messed up, but I can't change it, and I can't do anything but say I'm sorry! And I can't do this by myself," Kelly lowered her head and started sobbing, biting her lip to try and calm herself.
Gibbs stared at her, his eyes narrow, feeling as if the full force of what she'd yelled had hit him like a Mack truck. He swallowed hard and shook his head, holding his hands out as he came forward.
"Here, Kelly," he said, keeping his voice calm. "I'll take him," he offered. "I don't have a magic touch," he warned gruffly. "Just because I had you doesn't mean I can make him stop."
Kelly seemed to just slump in relief as she handed over the crying baby. She covered her mouth with her hands. Her shoulders shook and she kept her eyes on Levi, her breath held.
Gibbs settled the baby into the crook of his arm and cupped his head, rubbing the crown of his head soothingly.
"I'm so tired," Kelly murmured. "I'm so stressed, he can sense it, he can sense that I can't stand him right now," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I don't understand how I can want to throw him out the window and love him so much," she whimpered, covering her face.
She shook her head back and forth.
"How could I say that?" she asked, horrified.
Gibbs surprised himself—and her. He laughed.
"Kelly, go get a drink," he said.
Her brow furrowed, and he could see her confusion and frustration battling behind her blue eyes.
"What?" she burst out, exasperated.
"You heard me."
"I'm not old enough!" she said.
And right as she said it, she realized how preposterous she sounded. She was managing to keep a three point five GPA while working a part time job and being single mom to an infant.
She was allowed a damn drink.
Kelly disappeared into the kitchen, and Gibbs paced towards the fire and the Christmas tree, still in the process of soothing Levi. It took a minute, but the baby was finally quieting down. He wasn't happy, that much was clear, but the change in soother did do something to fix the crying. Gibbs raised his eyebrows at his grandson and glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder.
"Grandpa, one; Mommy, zero," he whispered smugly. "Hasn't been the score since your mom was fourteen," he grumbled good-naturedly.
"Stop conspiring by the fire," Kelly said, returning from the kitchen.
He turned to give her a look and she managed a weak, teasing glimpse of her old personable smile. She showed him her palm with two Advil in it and then dry-swallowed to pills, chasing the pain receptors with a swallow of his bourbon.
"That's bourbon," he noted.
"It's comforting to me that you recognize your signature drink," she said dryly, giving him a look as if he were stating the obvious.
"I thought you'd go for the beer," Gibbs admitted, rocking Levi a little.
Kelly snorted derisively.
"Nothing weaker than bourbon will solve my problems," she muttered.
She held her glass, which didn't have much in it, close to her chest, her eyes falling to her son. She sighed heavily, reached up and wiped her wet eyes, and sat down, her gaze still focused on the calmed baby.
She shook her head dejectedly, lowering her eyes with some shame in them to her glass, just staring at it. She closed her eyes and her brow crumpled again; her lips trembled. She swallowed and cleared her throat, parting her lips.
"I know he's my mistake and my responsibility," she said shakily. "I understand that, and I know I have to do it alone but," she paused, looking at him uncertainly. "Dad, I need help, I'm suffocating. It isn't that I want to pawn him off on you, but sometimes I need a break—you should understand, you know how desperate Mom was to get you to play with me when you got home," the words came spilling out of her in a rush.
Gibbs tilted his head at her, listening.
She sniffled.
"I'm trying to live up to your expectations even though I know I already let you down, and I think its killing me," Kelly's words stuck in her throat and she lowered her head, squeezing her eyes closed. "It's like you look at me like I'm just some slut who used to be your daughter and it hurts so much when I'm trying so hard—"
"Kelly Roseanne," Gibbs interrupted harshly, risking setting Levi off again. He fixed a glare on his daughter. "I do not think you're a slut," he growled.
"Good," she snapped forcefully. "Because I am not," she threw her hand up in annoyance and leaned back on the couch. "I am just an idiot who thought she was in love with an egomaniacal asshole!"
Gibbs frowned and paced to the couch, shifting Levi to his shoulder gently and sitting down next to Kelly.
"You're not an idiot, either," he said a little roughly, looking back at her to catch her eye.
"You sure about that, Dad?" she asked sarcastically. "I haven't been the poster child for smart or responsible or even likeable in your eyes since I got pregnant."
He sighed in frustration, resting his hand on Levi's back. He gave her an annoyed look, but on some level he knew he had been short with her. In his efforts to try and make her understand the weight of her situation—the job she had to do for this child—he had forgotten that unconditional comfort and love was part of being a parent, and he had been too hard on her.
Kelly was far from perfect, but he had always put her on pedestal because she was his daughter. Opening his eyes to her flaws was an uncomfortable task, and he found it hard to accept—that was the problem.
"Kelly," he said slowly, looking at her seriously. "I'm not ashamed of you," he said pointedly; sharply. "I'm not disappointed. This isn't something I wanted for you," he clarified, "but it happened."
She turned her head to look at him, her eyes red, wet, and puffy—and her cheeks pale, with dark circles still tired and prominent under her eyes. She shakily pushed her hair back and bit her lip.
"I'm trying," she said again, sincerely. She closed her eyes briefly. "This is so hard. It's the hardest thing I've ever done."
Gibbs nodded.
"I know," he said smugly, shooting her a look. "I lost your Mom, Kel. I did it alone, too."
Gibbs paused, reluctantly finding the ability to say what he needed to. He didn't like this emotional exchange, but he had gotten so much better at it since Shannon died—even cynical, tomboys like Kelly had their moments, and he'd figured out pretty quickly that he needed to be able to handle them.
"Why the hell do you think it bothers me?" he asked her gruffly. "I don't want to see you struggle. You were supposed to have it easier," he said intensely. "I'm not disappointed in you Kelly, but I could strangle you for disappointing yourself."
Her mouth trembled again. She sat forward a little, slowly leaning forward to set her glass on the coffee table. She looked at Levi's back, and at Gibbs' hand on Levi's back, and she pressed her fingers to her lips harshly, as if trying to keep them steady.
"Do you think Mom would be disappointed in me?" she asked weakly, looking at him with washed out, exhausted blue eyes.
Gibbs felt the old dull, yet sharp pain that thinking of Shannon brought, and he set his jaw, shaking his head curtly at Kelly. He narrowed his eyes.
"Shannon wouldn't be disappointed. She'd be proud you're trying your damndest. Kelly, every decision you've made since September has been about Levi," he said firmly.
"Why do I still feel so inadequate?" Kelly asked in a small voice, her eyes filling up.
Gibbs snorted.
"Get used to it," he muttered. "You'll feel that way for the next eighteen years," he said, tilting his head. "Hell, maybe even twenty, if Levi follows in your footsteps," he joked wryly.
Kelly laughed in spite of herself.
"Oh, you mean pregnant?" Kelly reached out and stroked the crown of her son's head. "That would be quite a feat." She smiled softly and glanced at Gibbs, biting her lip. "I've been awful to live with, haven't I?" she asked.
"Nope," answered Gibbs, deadpan.
She frowned at him, shaking her head.
"How did you get him to stop?" she asked. Gibbs shrugged, turning his head to look at
the baby.
"He's asleep," Gibbs answered, smirking.
A stunning, brilliant, genuine smile of relief lit up Kelly's face and she relaxed, her shoulder slumping. She reached for Levi, taking him from Gibbs, and kissing his face and hiding him against her, tucking his quiet, sleeping head under her chin. She smiled again, her eyes roaming to the fire, and then the Christmas tree.
"Some first Christmas," she sighed.
Gibbs followed her gaze, and shrugged.
"Be glad you're with him, Kel," he said simply.
She looked over at him and smiled slightly, nodding. She was thankful that she wasn't deployed halfway across the world. It was the only she could imagine that would be worse than her current single, heart-broken situation.
Kelly rested her hand on the back of Levi's head and sighed, calming down slowly. It was a lot easier to sit back and put things into perspective when the baby wasn't screaming his lungs out in her ear.
It felt good to have gotten a lot of her frustration with her dad out, but she felt a bit guilty about it. As stressed, unhappy, and angry as she might feel, it was all mitigated by the love she felt for Levi; lingering behind every bad, hurtful emotion was the unshakeable good feeling that Levi gave her.
Kelly knew, and had known for years, that Christmas really bothered her dad—it made him miss her mother, and there was nothing she could do to take that pain away, even though she had come to terms with her mother's death long ago.
Stubborn Leroy Jethro Gibbs had never gotten over it.
"Dad," Kelly began.
He grunted in response, looking over at her.
She chewed on her bottom lip like she had often done as a child, and then tilted her head, pursing her lips curiously.
"Are you sure Mom wouldn't be disappointed?"
"Kelly," he growled.
"Because I told you I felt like throwing my baby out of the window, I think Mom would be pretty appalled."
Gibbs glared at her. She started to grin, but he got up to check the fire and turned his back. He stalked over to the tree, straightened a star, and then turned around, giving her his usual glare and shrugging as if nothing fazed him.
"I don't," he said bluntly. "Once, she locked you in the car on purpose and sat on the porch for five minutes before she came and got me, just to get some quiet."
Kelly stared at him, eyes wide. She let out a low whistle.
"Touché, Mom," she remarked dryly.
Gibbs just gave her a smug look, standing by the Christmas tree. He took a few steps forward and cocked his head.
"Put 'im to bed, Kel," he said quietly. "I'll make hot chocolate, and we can watch that dumb Christmas movie that plays over and over again."
Kelly smiled brightly. She stood up, giving him a grateful look, and started out of the room, humming softly. Gibbs stood by the tree a moment, turning to look at an old picture on the mantle of himself, Kelly, and Shannon on the beach in California, and right next to it, one of Maddie Tyler and Kelly playing in the backyard. He smiled nostalgically, and prowled into the kitchen, stealthily picking up the phone.
A ghost of Christmas past had told him exactly what kind of help Kelly needed from him.
Kelly woke up slowly, peacefully, and languidly on Christmas morning—and the calm was a wonderful change of pace for all of five seconds until severe panic set in due to the fact that she saw it was almost noon and no crying infant had disrupted her.
She stumbled out of bed, blinking, pushing her hair back, snatching up a robe to warm her from the cold house, and left her room, stepping into the nursery with confusion etched on her face. Levi's lights were on; he wasn't in his crib.
Kelly cleared her throat.
"Dad?" she asked, her voice high-pitched.
"In here," she heard him answer in a muffled voice.
Kelly narrowed her eyes. She relaxed, pacing down the hall to the living room. She peered in and walked over to the couch slowly, smiling. Levi was happy, alive, and well on the floor with Gibbs, staring at a mobile while Gibbs sat on the floor next to him and watched football.
"It's noon," Kelly said, coming around the couch. She couldn't believe how rested she felt. "Noon!" she repeated, making her voice silly as she knelt down briefly to say 'hello' to Levi. She got on her hands and knees and crinkled her nose, pressing a kiss to the baby's forehead. "Merry Christmas, Levisauraus," she cooed in baby-talk.
Gibbs rolled his eyes.
"Is Kelly up? About damn time."
"Lord, is that how she talks now? We have got to do something about it before we take her out."
Kelly lifted her head and looked at Gibbs with wide-eyes, startled by the voices that broke in. She pushed herself up, sitting back on her heels, and her mouth fell open when she saw Maddie Tyler standing in the living room, holding a glass of water. She was even more surprised to find one of their other friends from high school leaning against the wall, and another coming out of the kitchen.
Kelly didn't miss the subtle, smug, self-impressed smirk crossing her father's lips, but she ignored it in favor of leaping up and dashing to Maddie—she threw her arms around her best friend and hugged her, laughing.
"Maddie, it's been ages!" she squealed.
Kelly let go and stepped back, her eyes shining.
"Hey, Kel, it's been longer since you've seen me," said one of the other girls, propping a hand on her hip.
"Skyler," Kelly laughed, hugging her, too. "God, it has been. How's Alabama?"
"Southern," answered Skyler. "Warmer, though, this Virginia winter is killing me," she groaned. "I didn't think I'd get to see you over the break."
"Me neither," said the third girl, elbowing Skyler out of the way. She hugged Kelly quickly. "Maddie says you barely have time for her anymore, and she lives here."
Kelly shoved her palm into her friend's shoulder, laughing.
"Liz, last time I checked you couldn't make it to Math class even though it was at the same time every damn day," Kelly mocked. "You try balancing school and a job with a baby's selfish schedule!"
"No, thanks," said Liz, holding her hands up.
She grinned all the same. Kelly clasped her hands together, her blood still pounding from the unexpected rush of adrenaline. She lifted her shoulders, looking at the three of them, and turned to glance at her Dad.
"What are you guys doing here?" she asked.
"Your Dad called me last night," Maddie said with a shrug. "I called Sky and Liz," she went on. "We're allowed to do whatever we want with you, as long as we don't take the baby," she said.
"Apparently, you need to have a little fun," Liz piped up. She laughed, arching her eyebrows and glancing towards the baby. "Protected fun, that is."
"You haven't changed," Kelly growled at her old friend, pushing her hair back.
Behind her, Gibbs stood and swept Levi off the floor, wandering over to them suspiciously—the same way he had always acted around Kelly's vivacious circle of friends. He held Levi in plain view, letting the baby look around from a different vantage point.
"Look at him!" squealed Maddie, waving. She giggled.
"He's so cute," complimented Skyler, creeping forward to take Levi's hand.
"Yeah, sad thing is, we don't know if she's talking about the baby or Kelly's Dad," muttered Liz. Kelly glared at her, and Maddie elbowed her. Liz cackled, delighted as always to shamelessly bring up Skyler's infamous crush on Mr. Gibbs.
"Here," Gibbs said seriously, handing him off to one of the willing females. Liz immediately leapt away, letting Maddie and Skyler fight for him. Kelly stepped in, though, and took Levi.
"Mine," she said smugly, settling him in her arm.
"I'll grab 'im a bottle," Gibbs said, disappearing into the kitchen.
Skyler turned her head and then crept closer to Kelly.
"Hey, Kel, is your dad still single and lonely?"
"Oh, my god, Skyler," Maddie said.
"Seriously, honey, get over it, we're not fourteen anymore," Liz said.
"Precisely," Skyler snickered. "I'm definitely legal now."
Kelly groaned.
"You still have that thing for him?"
"You still have a problem with it?" Skyler retorted brazenly.
"He's my father!" Kelly hissed.
"He's delicious," Skyler said.
Kelly closed her eyes in horror.
"Hush," snapped Maddie. "Hi, Gunny," she said nicely as Gibbs' re-entered.
"We were just talking about you," Liz said.
Gibbs narrowed his eyes and pointed at her.
"You're still the troublemaker," he growled suspiciously.
Liz just grinned smugly.
"Whose daughter has a baby?" she shot back.
"Smart-ass," Gibbs muttered. He handed Kelly a warm bottle, and pulled her aside, nearer to the Christmas tree.
She looked at him as if she were shaking with excitement. He couldn't help but grin a little; she looked so much happier than she had in weeks—it was like that old Christmas-morning look she used to get when she woke up to find presents under the tree. He missed that surprised, deliriously happy expression.
"Go out," he said seriously. "Be a college student. Do whatever the hell you want to. I've got him," Gibbs said, pointing at Levi. "You've earned it, Kelly."
She opened her mouth, just hesitating for a moment.
"You have no idea how much this means to me," she said.
He smirked. He beckoned for her to give him the baby, and she did, transferring Levi back to his grandfather gently. She handed Gibbs the bottle and pushed her hair back again, hesitating a moment.
"It's Christmas," she said, biting her lip. "It's his first Christmas. I should be here," she said slowly.
"Kelly," Gibbs placated. "What do you remember about your first Christmas?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Daddy, I was four months old."
"I was in Cuba," Gibbs said. "And you didn't know any different," he reminded her pointedly.
She opened her mouth, and then closed it, turning to look at her friends. She smiled, and leaned forward, kissing Levi gently on the forehead. She rose up on tiptoes and kissed her father's cheek, squeezing his shoulder tightly.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "Daddy—"
"Ah, Kelly, just go," he said gruffly, shooing her away.
She laughed.
"Too many emotions, huh?" she asked.
Kelly bit her lip and took a deep breath, looking down at Levi fondly. She felt odd leaving him—she had wanted to badly to just get away from him the past few weeks, and now here she was reluctant and nervous about it.
"What are you and Levi going to do?" she asked Gibbs.
"Gonna teach him to sand the boat," Gibbs deadpanned.
Kelly laughed. She pulled her hand off of her father's shoulder and shook her head in exasperation, amused, and lighthearted. She gave a small wave and turned, walking over to her friends.
"Kelly," Gibbs said.
She looked back at him.
"Merry Christmas," he said gruffly.
Kelly bit her lip, taking a deep breath. Her eyes fell to Levi, and the words had some kind of surreal, whole new meaning for her. She lifted her eyes to her father's and smiled sincerely, nodding her head.
"Yeah," she said agreed firmly. "Yeah, it is."
-A special thanks to my dear friends, Skyler and Liz (Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs) for allowing me the liberty to use their names (Er, even though I did not exactly ask), and for allowing me to mix a little of others' personalities in with theirs. Hope you've enjoyed this foray back to LB/SF, and have a Merry Christmas day!
-Alexandra