Spoilers: Episode 13.10 Blood Brothers
The Mom Code
Bishop and Gibbs walked quietly out the front door of her parents' house with their shouldered bags. As they were stowing the bags in Bishop's truck, the front door opened again. "I will have coffee ready in a few minutes," Barbara called softly into the near dawn darkness.
Bishop sighed. "You didn't need to get up to see us off, Mom," she said.
"Save your breath, Bishop," Gibbs told her. "She's a mom."
Bishop rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"Stop rolling your eyes, Eleanor, and come inside," her mom said. "While you're eating breakfast, I'll make up some sandwiches for the road."
"No way. It's too dark for her to have seen that," Bishop muttered, shaking her head again, but starting back toward the house as she'd been told.
Gibbs leaned over so his mouth was next to her ear. "Told you. Mom," he said, very softly.
"That's right, Gibbs, and I'm sure you know how moms feel about eating breakfast," Barbara said to him as he and Ellie climbed the porch steps.
Gibbs gave her a nod and a grin as he walked back into the house. He knew it was time to get his batteries charged.
Finding Her Way
After Bishop's mom was satisfied that she had fortified her guests for a day on the road, Gibbs and Bishop were allowed to leave. As the truck pulled out of the driveway, Bishop glanced over at Gibbs. "I, uh, don't have a paper map for you to follow," she told him. "I always just use my phone."
"Too bad you took an ax to it then," Gibbs said.
"Right," Bishop said, grimacing.
"We'll manage," Gibbs told her.
"Have you been this way before?" Bishop asked.
Gibbs nodded. "Forty goes to Pendleton," he said.
"Oh, right, the Marine Corps," Bishop reasoned. "That was a while ago."
Gibbs gave her a bland look.
"Not that interstates change much," Bishop allowed.
After a few minutes of silence, Gibbs said, "Should be two days back to D.C. How often do you stop?"
Bishop started, "When Jake and I ..." She paused, then continued determinedly, "It's not important how Jake and I did things. We'll stop when we need a break, for gas, or to change drivers, I guess."
"What about food?" Gibbs asked.
"Mom packed sandwiches," Bishop reminded him.
"Tony talks like you eat five times a day. Sure sandwiches will be enough?"
"I get hungry when I'm working and thinking," Bishop said.
"You're not thinking now?" Gibbs asked.
"I made my decision, Gibbs. You're the one who got me to talk about it with my family. I'm done thinking about it. I'm not hungry."
"Okay, but gas station coffee is crap," Gibbs said.
Bishop acquiesced, "Fine. We'll add in coffee breaks."
"It's not a road trip until the car is littered with coffee cups," Gibbs said.
"Oh, trust me, it is and will be. We can take time to find trash cans, too," Bishop told him firmly.
"Your truck, your rules," Gibbs said, smiling.
Feelings of Home
It was late afternoon on the second day of the trip back to D.C., and Gibbs was driving Bishop's truck as they crossed into Virginia. Bishop began looking around, out through both the windshield and side windows. She seemed dissatisfied.
"What?" Gibbs asked.
"I was expecting something," Bishop said.
Gibbs waited.
"It's just that I realized something on this trip," Bishop told him. "When I crossed into Oklahoma, I had this feeling. It was like I felt at peace. I was coming home."
Gibbs waited some more.
"I realized I always feel like that when I'm driving into Oklahoma. Somehow I feel more relaxed, more at ease. Gibbs, I've been living out here for a while now. Shouldn't I be feeling like I'm coming home now, here, not Oklahoma?" Bishop asked.
Gibbs tapped his index finger on the steering wheel and rolled his shoulders to loosen his muscles. "This is your home, too," he told Bishop, "even without that feeling. Where you grew up is special, though. Knowing you're close stirs up all your memories about those times."
"So you still feel that way when you drive to Pennsylvania?" Bishop asked.
"Yep," Gibbs said. "Then and whenever I smell coal."
