No one's POV

Leroy Jethro Gibbs stood outside, in front of his favorite café, watching the last woman he ever truly loved drive off, her last words echoing in his graying mind. I want my children to be from the one I love, the one I dream of. Scratching his head, he wondered why she had said that to him. Of course he understood what she meant by it but the reasoning behind those words would pester him until their next meeting.

Brooklyn Marie Long. The woman had haunted Jethro's dreams for the last four years. He stepped closer to the busy street and signaled a cab back to the NCIS headquarters. Getting into the public vehicle, Gibbs silently went back in time to the memories he had done his best to forget.

Four years ago, Jethro had been desperate to replace the aching in his heart for the loved ones he had lost. Shannon, Kelly, Kate, and now, Jen too. His soul was hanging on by strings and all he wanted to do was: forget. To make matters worse, when Jethro had planned to hop a plane to Mexico where he could drown his sorrows in tequila and foreign women, he found himself headed towards Stillwater, Pennsylvania, the last destination he had in mind.

Stillwater was just as Gibbs had remembered it, small and cozy. At first, he just drove his truck around the town, circling it over and over again, until his gas tank was nearly empty. Seeing the meter fall towards the E, Jethro made a U-turn and pulled into the gas station that had been there before any of his teammates were born. He slowly got out of his car, as if he were being held back by some unseen force, and walked into the small snack shop.

Inside, there were few changes and Gibbs found himself sighing with reassurance. It was as if he never left this sleepy, little town. Grabbing a bottle of water and some potato chips, he walked up to the cash register.

"I need sixty bucks worth of gas on three." Gibbs recited, placing the items on the counter. The cashier said a quick "uh huh" and began ringing up the water and chips.

"That'll be seventy-one and ninety-three, please." Jethro paused, wallet in hand. Finally looking at the woman manning the register, he felt shock run through his body. "Sir?"

Swallowing hard, the older man pulled out a few twenties and handed them to the one person he thought he would never see again. "Here you go, Brookie." The girl looked him in the eye, familiarity passing through her beautiful stare.

"Jethro."

Hours later, they were both sitting in his pick-up, talking about the past. Gibbs had opened up to the girl, who had followed him around like a lost puppy dog in his late high school day. He finally felt at peace with the sorrow in his life. He let his head fall from the steering wheel, that he had been clutching since the end of Brooklyn's shift, and gently collide with hers.

"I've missed you, Jeth." The girl tucked a loose strand of her long, silky hair behind her ear and flashed that breath-taking grin his way. "How long has it been?"

The man glanced at the girl who was now a woman and found the nerve to hold her fragile hand in his. "About twenty years." he squeezed her hand, gently. "You've grown, Brookie. How old are you now? The last time I saw you, you were this tiny little toddler clinging to my pant legs, begging me to bring you to school with me."

A deep blush appeared on her cheeks. "Almost twenty-three." She frowned, jokingly. "And I was not begging, I was giving you a proposition."

"A proposition, eh?" Gibbs turned so that he was facing the gorgeous blonde. "Sounds interesting."

Brooke scooted closer to the man she had never forgotten. "I have another proposition, Jethro."

He leaned toward her, whispering even though they were all alone. "And what would that be?"

"There's only one way to find out."

And the rest was history, or so the quote goes. They had made love several times. Jethro spent almost a year with Brooke, never wanting to let her go, but he knew that other people relied on him. His team kept drowning him with calls and he finally realized that he was needed there as much as was with the girl he was falling hard for. So one morning, he packed up his bags while she was sleeping and quietly left, leaving a note where he thought she would find it: In her wallet.

The cab pulled up in front of his office building, forcing him to leave the memories behind. Gibbs paid the driver and returned to work, hoping that Tony had forgotten all about the beautiful woman he whisked away.

Brooke's POV

The sight of Jethro's confused face played over and over again in my mind, causing me to chuckle. Of all the faces that man had shown me, his confused one was by far my favorite. I parked in the visiting lot of the Children's Hospital and exited my Jeep Liberty. Grabbing the purse that I have had for almost five years now, I locked my car and walked into the building that has become my second home.

Smiling, I greeted the daytime nurses as I passed them on my way to the second floor, the cancer ward. Every day, it was the same thing: Work, Visit Elliot, Sleep, Wake up, Visit Elliot, Work, Repeat. It was tiresome but having one more day with my baby was worth it. I jabbed the button to go up one more level and leaned against the elevator wall. Honestly, seeing Jethro again was a bit nerve-wracking. My heart still pounded, unnecessarily, for him.

The elevator stopped and opened to reveal visitors waiting to get on. I stepped out and allowed the shaken people to get in. There was a death. I wasn't surprised. A death occurred everyday, here. I just crossed my fingers that I wouldn't have to be one of those mothers who lost their son to cancer, like the one who just brushed by me.

I shook my head, to empty it of those depressing thoughts, and followed the sick patients and busy nurses until I found the room I was looking for: 213. I pushed the door open and smiled at the bright, little boy sitting upright in bed.

"Hi, mommy!" the four-year-old brunette exclaimed in a raspy voice, a sign that he had been puking again. The radiation treatment was hurting him more than it was helping.

I plastered a smile on my face to hide the worry. "Hey, baby." I dropped my bag on the chair next to his bed and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "How was your day? Defeat any villians? Jump on the moon? Eat you veggies?"

Elliot giggled and shook his curly, mahogany head. "Nope, mommy." he then frowned. "I didn't get to jump on the moon." I laughed at the statement and set about tickling the little booger.

"Well then we must change that." I declared and picked him up from the bed, being extra careful of the bandages on his arms. I lifted the toddler into the air and spun him about the room. My son laughed and laughed with excitement, causing me to grin, widely.

My arms grew tired and I set him back in the bed and tucked the quilt I had bought him as a baby around his tiny body. "How was that? Better than jumping on the moon?"

He nodded, enthusiastically. "Much better, mommy." Elliot then yawned. I began to hum, watching his eyes slowly close, carrying him off to a world where cancer didn't exist and four-year-old boys could actually jump on the moon.