a/n: and, voila: part 2. i drew some parallels, with the airport situations and the references to Kelly Gibbs, so. hence the title. hey, it's not angsty, actually!
Washington, DC, 2000
It had been a year.
It seemed like longer—it seemed like decades had passed since he had last seen her in the flesh; it seemed like a millennia that they had been struggling through the messy, unconventional mire of a life their choice had thrust upon them—but it had only been a year.
A solid, well-fought year, give or take a few agonizing weeks when transfers had been delayed and flights out of Europe grounded due to various inconveniences—but it seemed fitting that the first place he should see her after such a year would be the airport.
It was, after all, the last place he had seen her in Paris.
He wished bitterly that it hadn't had to be like this, but it was the only way she'd felt comfortable—she had wanted him to prove he could navigate the emotional distress in his past, and she had wanted to be secure in her own determination to make their relationship work, so she had kept her promotion, and moved to Italy, and he had gone back to Washington to head up the NCIS major crimes response team—and there had been no time for visits, no vacations—just phone calls, and late nights up worrying, and a hell of a fight to get to this moment.
Gibbs rubbed his jaw tensely—he was going to take his skin off if he wasn't careful—and paced the floor, watching hawkishly for any sign of her, any sign of her bags on the conveyor belt.
It wasn't that he hadn't seen her—there were video chats—and it wasn't as if he hadn't seen him—he had pictures, and videos—but he wanted to hold him, and Jen, and the anticipation had gotten almost unbearable.
"Jethro," Ducky said good-naturedly, taking ahold of his friend's shoulder. He laughed, his eyes twinkling. "You'll pace a hole in the floor and fall to the center of the earth."
Gibbs shook him off roughly. He managed a tense sort of smile, eyes scanning the crowds again.
"You don't get it, Duck," he growled vaguely.
Ducky sighed.
"No, I suppose I don't," he agreed, turning around—and then he spotted something Gibbs clearly had not. He smiled to himself and stepped back, inclining is head. "I think I'll go see about a cup of tea," he said, quickly searching for a way out.
He was overjoyed that Gibbs and Jennifer had sought to include him in their reunion—he was, because of his involvement in Paris, perhaps a sort of family to them—but he thought it would be best if they were alone for this part.
He disappeared quietly, making sure she didn't see him as she approached.
Gibbs' eyes were back on the conveyer belt, looking for the bags she had described to him, when he took a deep breath and realized was overwhelmed with a very familiar scent—perfume; perfume he remembered from Paris. He was paralyzed for a second—he couldn't even turn around—and then something small nudged his shoulder and he spun on his heel, his teeth clenched tightly. It took him a moment to focus—he was still dizzy from the scent—and then his eyes fell on her; and she looked better than he ever imagined, and she was holding up a tiny hand—and that's what had nudged him.
His eyes ran over her—she looked relaxed, happy, so much more at ease than she had in Paris, or even on their video calls—it was coming home that did it to her; it was knowing that he was going to be there now, and if the spot on his team didn't work out, she'd be as close as the next office in the bullpen, working some other team.
Her hair was pulled back, and she was missing one small, gold hoop earring.
"Jen," he managed, almost in awe.
He stepped closer, crowding her, absolutely claiming her personal space, and her arms pressed against his chest, clutching between them the one thing that had made all of this worth it—
"Hello, Jethro," she said softly. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to the baby's head, moving his hand a little and placing it gently on Gibbs' chest. "Hi, Daddy," she added, smiling a little.
He swallowed hard, fighting with the lump in his throat. He reached out slowly, his glare softening indescribably as he caught his son's eyes.
"Hey, buddy," he greeted, waiting apprehensively for Jenny to place him—in his arms.
She did, and it was the most distinctive moment of healing he'd experienced since he had lost his Kelly so many years ago—this little boy, another child whose birth he'd missed, looked at him with wide, calm blue eyes, his hands braced against Gibbs' chest in slight wariness.
He was five months old, and he had Jenny's auburn hair scattered over his head, and his nose was a mirror image of Jenny's, and everything about him lived up to Gibbs' expectations, right down to the tiny tennis shoes on his feet.
Gibbs held him tightly, lowering his forehead to the baby's and closing his eyes for a moment. He stood still, forgetting all of the unbelievably difficult obstacles they'd faced to get here—and when he opened his eyes; it was because his son was pulling on his ears with interest, mumbling to himself.
Jenny laughed quietly, and touched er own ear.
"He got one of my earrings," she said, her voice catching. She stepped forward and reached out, placing her hands on Gibbs' arms and reveling in the sight of him for a moment—she had so been waiting for the moment she could see him hold the baby.
Gibbs laughed hoarsely, not trusting himself to talk just yet. He looked down, his eyes roaming over his son, memorizing dimples and the confused look on his little face—enshrining the first time he'd really met him.
"He sits up now," Jenny said earnestly. "He's precocious. He didn't cry, the entire flight," she trailed off, her lips trembling.
Gibbs just nodded, his eyes still on the baby. He tightened his jaw for a moment, and then leaned forward and kissed her confidently, wrapping one arm around her.
"You did good, Jen," he said hoarsely, pressing temple against hers. "I like 'im," he said-understatement of the century.
"He looks like you," she said shakily. "I missed you so much, Jethro."
Gibbs shook his head, forehead still pressed against hers.
"Nah, looks like you," he retorted gruffly, turning his head slightly and looking at him.
Jenny laughed, leaning against him heavily. She reached out and wrapped her hand around the baby's foot, holding gently but firmly at the same time.
He grinned smugly, his lips brushing against her cheek.
"Aren't you glad you delayed that flight, back in Paris?" he asked hoarsely.
She laughed breathlessly and pulled back, looking up at him wryly. She leaned forward and kissed the baby boy, her eyes looking up at Gibbs softly and mischievously next to their son's.
"I haven't decided yet."
Washington, DC, 2000
i've left it deliberately vague so you can kind of fill in your own blanks to your hearts' desires, including baby boy Gibbs' name.
(and no, i'm not going back to this universe)
-alexandra
[note: the premiere just aired here, and i enjoyed it; i'm really, really looking forward to next week. happy viewing!]