Disclaimer: See Chp. 1

A/N: Lt. This one's for you, sir. Enjoy

Chapter 2

Abraham Lincoln Elementary School

Alexandria, Va.

September 8, 2010

1030 hours

Shannon Gibbs was enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet. Although she loved teaching and her students, she just wasn't as young as she used to be. During her planning period, like now, she kept her cellphone on her desk, rather than in her purse. But she rarely received calls during the school day, so she was surprised when it rang. Snatching it up, she answered pleasantly, without checking the number. "Hello, this is Shannon Gibbs."

"Shannon? Mike Franks', how you and the probie?"the voice said, though Shannon recognized it immediately, and smiled.

"We're good, Mike, and you?"

"Beers cold, sun's shinin', fish are bitin'. Couldn't be better if I were twins."Mike said, chuckling. But the laughter held no mirth. Maybe this wasn't been a good idea.

"That's good. Did you call to ask to steal my husband?" Shannon asked.

"No, Shannon, I didn't." Mike said, his tone serious now.

Shannon felt a knot forming in her stomach. "What happened? Is Jake alright? Where is he? What…."

Aw, Crap. Probies' gonna kill me. "Now, hold on, Shan, calm down honey. I wouldn't be given ya news like that over the phone. Jake's fine. I convinced him to meet me in D.C. If you and probie wanna come, I think I can swing it."

A long silence followed. Mike waited patiently. He owed this woman that much. Finally, she said. "You're giving him another job." She said. It was a statement, not a question.

Mike groaned inwardly, but he couldn't lie to her. "Yes, Shannon."

"And if my son dies?"

Mike was losing patience. "Look, Shannon, I didn't call to argue with you. I called to ask you if you wanna see him."

Another silence followed and Shannon checked the clock on the wall. 1043 hours. She had seven minutes. Part of her wanted to see her son again, wanted desperately to hug him and tell him how wrong she had been. But she couldn't. It'd been too long.

"No, Mike, I can't."

For his part, Mike didn't react. He didn't sigh, curse or tell this women that he loved like a daughter what a fool she was being. Instead, he said. "Alright. Goodbye Shannon."

"Goodbye, Mike. Don't be stranger." She added, almost as an afterthought.

Mike grinned, but there was no mirth in his smile. "You either. Goodbye, Shannon."

000

15 Miles North of Fayetteville, NC

Same Day

1100 Hours

Jake arrived at Section Eight's unofficial headquarters and sat in his truck, a '71 Ford F-150, and wondered what his teammates would think about his request. Normally, their agency contact called Mike, Mike called him. Then they met, sometimes in Mexico and sometimes in the states, and Mike gave him the Section's assignment. But this time was different.

This time, Jake smelled a rat. And the rat was Michael Franks. Why, of all the places he could've chosen to give Jake the teams assignment, did he choose D.C.? After a dozen reasons other than the most obvious one pushed into his mind, he gave it up and decided to just let it out for his team. He parked next to a black Jeep wrangler and got out. He saw that a Harley Davidson Blackline and a fully restored dark blue '67 Camaro SS with white racing stripe were parked next to the jeep. Good, his team was in place.

He entered 'the bar' as they called it found Travis McGee, Max Sciuto, and Dave Mallard sitting around the room's lone table, all nursing beers. "Want one, boss?" Travis asked.

"Sure." Jake said, removing his coat and revealing a Wilson Combat CQB Tactical LE 1911 .45 caliber pistol, cocked and locked on his belt. Like Jake, Travis McGee was a U.S. army Special Forces veteran, but he'd remained a great beret for his entire career. Max Sciuto had been a Navy Seal, a member of Seal teams 2 and the venerable Seal team 6. Dave Mallard had been a member of Britain's SAS, specifically their counter terror unit.

Accepting the proffered Heineken from Travis, Jake took a long swig. "That bad?" Dave asked.

Jake shrugged. "Not necessarily bad," he shrugged again. "Just different."

"Different how?" Max asked, offering his boss a chair.

"Mike wants to meet in D.C."

All of a sudden, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. For almost a minute the only sound was the collective breathing of the men. Finally Max said what they were all thinking. "Does he know?"

"Of course he knows." Jake said, his tone implying that the man was stating the obvious. "He investigated Kelly's murder, for Christ sake." Jake shook his head in disgust.

"So, let me guess, you want us there as back up?" Dave asked.

Jake grinned. That was why he liked the former SAS captain. The man was a quick study.

"Yeah, standard village people op. I need everybody in place around Charlie's by 1700" Jake said. Village People was team speak for cover i.d.'s in public. City workers, vagrants, people that wouldn't look out of place on a city street.

"Who do you want in the bar with you?" Travis asked.

"No body." Jake said. The others looked surprised; one of their steadfast rules was that you always went into a potentially hostile environment with a partner.

"No body." Jake said again, finality in his voice.

"I've been the homeless man for the last two ops," Sciuto grumbled.

"So," Jake said, shrugging. "You're good at it?"

The former Seal sighed dramatically. "Fine. But this Op better pay well."

Jake clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Thanks, Max. I owe you."

"I expect of case of Dos Equis on my doorstep by 0700 tomorrow." Max growled.

"Your wish is my command. Now go get dirty."

000

Shannon walked to the art room in a daze. The question that Mike had asked still plagued her. Did she really not want to contact her son? The simple answer was that she didn't know. But what she did know was that she not Jake was to blame for their estrangement, and that irrefutable fact broke her heart. As she turned the corner, she schooled her features to look normal. Kids were perceptive. She'd learned that the hard way.

"Ok, Tony Dinozzo, front and center." She said. The kids were milling around waiting for the order to line up. As a general rule, Shannon avoided favorites in her class. Oddly enough, this had been simplified by her daughter's death twenty-three years earlier. All her kids were special. But Tony was different.

Tony was one those kids that she wanted to scoop up and tell him everything was going to be ok, then take him home and make everything ok. Tony came from a wealthy family but Shannon got the impression that his father hated him and that nothing Tony ever did was good enough. She didn't know what his mother's views were because she'd never met the woman.

Suddenly Tony appeared, bright eyed and smiling. "Ready Tony?"

"Yes, ma'am." He beamed, "all present and accounted for."

She smiled at him. "Ok, then. Guys, stay behind Tony, OK?" When she was sure she had their attention. Shannon started down the hall, glancing back to make sure the kids were staying together. But Tony was doing a job. She made a mental know to give him the praise he deserved. And to make sure that the little boy understood that he was, in fact, loved.

000

A/N: I know what you're all thinking. How in the world did Gibbs son end up working with Abby and McGee's brothers and Ducky's nephew? Highly unlikely, right? Well that, gentle reader, is the beauty of Fanfiction. I get to do what I want! Hope you enjoyed it.