The feel of her five year old nephew's hand in hers was the only thing grounding Jenny Shepard. She stared vacantly ahead of her – vaguely registering that Director Morrow was using some very big words about Chris as he delivered his eulogy. Part of her wished they'd asked someone else to speak. Someone who had known her brother well enough to tell stories about him. But not for the first time since she'd received the news she wondered whether there were actually any stories to tell. Whether he'd had any real friends at work. The church was full of people come to pay their last respects – but how many of them had come out of a sense of obligation? Someone from Human Resources had called to tell her that an agent would be bringing Chris's personal effects to her, but nobody else had reached out. Nobody had called to ask whether they could help in any way, or how the children were handling their father's death. Or even just to check up on them out of courtesy. It had made her feel cold inside that it apparently made no difference to anyone but them that Chris was no longer around. For a brief moment she wondered bitterly whether they'd already assigned his desk to someone else - and suddenly she wasn't sure she wanted to address the sea of faces behind her. Not sure she wanted to share with them who her brother really was, if nobody cared.

Gibbs watched as the redhead he'd seen in the photos replaced Morrow at the pulpit. Something about her called out to him - and he knew it wasn't merely the red hair. She was looking out at the people present as if she was seeking a connection with them. His chest constricted painfully as he recognised the glazed look. He remembered feeling, when Shannon and Kelly had died, as if the world had crumbled around him and he was surrounded by blankness. He watched her mouth move and was aware that even though he wasn't listening to a word she was saying, he was internalising her pain. Almost instantly he felt her eyes settle on him. He couldn't come up with any explanation for why she'd chosen to look at him as she continued to speak. Maybe she needed to focus on someone who wasn't looking away, or maybe she could see the sincerity in him, even from a distance. But whatever the reason, her abject grief was something he could relate to. It created a palpable connection between them – even if she wasn't aware of it. The despair resonated deeply with him, and he couldn't pull his eyes from her. She looked even more beautiful in the flesh. More ethereal. And although he knew that at some level being mesmerised by her was wrong, as she spoke about what a good father and loyal brother Chris had been, he was drawn to her in a way he hadn't felt drawn to any woman in a very long time.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Jenny felt ridiculously grateful, as she stood graveside, that the man from the church had come to see Chris laid to rest. He'd leant silent support at a time when she'd been having trouble carrying on, and she'd drawn a strange kind of comfort from his presence - even though she had no idea who he was. She'd sought him out on the way out of the church and seen her own response to Chris's death mirrored back at her in his eyes. For a moment the grief had seemed to magnify, but there had been no time to linger. She'd moved on with the briefest of glances over her shoulder, and the vague hope that he would be present at the cemetery.

There were a lot less people from the agency present. No more than a handful. Another thing she was grateful for. She could be herself surrounded by the people Chris had mattered to. Let her grief overwhelm her if need be. As the pastor motioned for the mourners to place the flowers they were holding on the casket she could feel his eyes on her, and was almost sure that the conforting smell of old spice and sawdust that lingered in the air right behind her was coming from him. She focused on the feeling that someone had her back as she placed her rose over the place she knew Chris' heart was, and turned to watch the stranger step up and do the same. She had barely finished wishing that someone, anyone, would put propriety aside and stand next to her as the coffin was lowered into the ground before he took his place next to her.

Gibbs watched her composure crumble as the casket disappeared from view, and reached for her before she was even aware herself that her knees were giving way.

"I've got you" he murmured as she fell against him with large heaving sobs.

He held her as long as she allowed him to. Absorbing her pain. Reliving his own.

"Thank you" she said as short while later, raising her eyes to his as she released the lapels of his trench coat.

He saw her gratitude and almost recoiled from the green eyes that were intense even behind the wateriness that showcased them. He compressed his lips tightly and nodded, but was saved from having to respond properly by the pastor walking up and taking her hand in his. He stepped backwards, allowing other people filled the gap between them, and turned to come face to face with his team.

"Head back to the yard" he said curtly, all too aware of the way they were looking at him. Almost as though they were waiting for some sort of explanation.

Tony looked as though he might ask where he would be – but then thought better of it. When they had gone he walked slowly back to the burial site. A few people he took to be neighbours and friends were still offering their condolences, so he put his hands in his pockets and waited; his eyes on the upturned earth that now covered Chris Pacci.

"I have your brother's things" he said when everyone had gone and she walked up to him.

"Thank you" she said softly.

"Do you have a car or ..." he said, looking round.

"The funeral home sent a car. Some friends and neighbours are coming home. If you'd like to join us ..."

Gibbs looked at her for a long moment before nodding.

"I'll drive behind you" he said.

Jenny nodded. She walked a few steps away from him before coming back.

"I'm Jenny" she said, before holding out her hand.

"Jethro."

"I'll see you at home then. Jethro."

________________________________________________________________

He kept pretty much to himself at the gathering; not wishing to intrude, not knowing what to say, and unable to stray far from Jenny. Telling himself that he had unfinished business with her. He was staring out onto the back garden when the front door swung open and the little boy he had seen at the service ran in. Jenny pulled him into her arms and held him tight for a while.

"Where's Molly?" he asked when he pulled back.

"Mrs. Murphy is bringing her home later."

"I want her to come home now" he said, his voice teary.

"Um .. okay ... I'll call Mrs. Murphy and tell her to bring -"

"Who's that?" he interrupted as his eyes fell on Gibbs.

"A friend of your dad's. His name is Jethro."

"Can I talk to him?" the child said, his eyes going a bit wide.

"I think he'd like that" she said as she propelled him gently in that direction.

"Are you really a friend of my dad?" he asked, once he stood next to him.

Gibbs swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"Yeah."

The child nodded and leaned against the window too, mimicking Gibbs' posture.

"I'm Gabriel" he announced. "I'm going to be six soon. Do you work at NCIS?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Are you a good agent?"

Gibbs smiled a little.

"I hope so."

"Aunty Jenny said that dad died because someone really bad fooled him. Anybody really bad ever fool you?"

"Oh yeah. More than once."

"Then how come you're still alive?"

There was no anger in his tone – only sadness and curiousity – but it amplified Gibbs' sense of guilt. For the second time in as many hours he was saved from having to respond. The front door opened again and a blur of colour charged into the living room.

"Gabel!" a little girl shouted as she wrapped her arms around her brother's waist and hugged him tightly.

"This is Molly" the little boy explained to Gibbs as he hugged her back. "She's ours."

The little girl looked up at Gibbs as though he were a giant, and then she smiled brightly.

"Up" she demanded, as she held out her arms.

As he lifted her, Gibbs saw Jenny approach.

"Sorry. She's a little ... forward" she said as the child smiled happily and jumped from Gibbs's arms into hers immediately.

"How old is she?" Gibbs asked as he watched the child alternately hug Jenny and play with her hair.

"Two years and five months" Gabriel announced. "She's too young to understand what's going on. And she still wears diapers."

"Speaking of which ..." Jenny said with a wrinkle of her nose, "do you have a gift for me in there, madam?"

"Nope" the child said with a wide grin.

"Are you sure?"

"Yip."

"I think I'll check just to be sure" Jenny said, glad to have something mundane to focus on. "Gabriel ... will you see if Jethro would like some more ice tea. I'll be back in a moment."

True to her word she was, and Gibbs realised that upon her return people started to leave.

"Are you leaving too?" Gabriel asked as he headed for the door himself.

"Just need to get something from the car."

"So you're coming back?"

"Yeah. Back in a minute."

Gabriel sat on the porch and watched – never taking his eyes off the agent for a second.

"What's in the box?" he wanted to know when Gibbs walked back up the steps.

"Something for you."

"What?" the child asked, his eyes lighting up for the first time.

"Your father's badge" Gibbs said, lifting it from the box respectfully. "I know he would have wanted you to have it."

Gabriel turned it over in his hand a few times.

"You know all those really bad people we talked about?" he said after a while.

"Yeah? What about 'em?"

"When I grow up I'm going to put them all in jail."

"Your dad would be proud to hear you say that" Gibbs said with a sad smile as he ruffled his hair.

He looked up as Molly ran over to them and inserted herself between his knees and the box.

"I think I'll just take that now before she gets into it" Jenny said as she followed and lifted the box off the table. "We'll go through it later, Gabriel."

"Okay" the child replied. "Jethro?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you stay for dinner?"

"I'm sure Jethro needs to get back to work, sweetheart" Jenny said softly.

But Gabriel put his hand in Gibbs' and looked up with him with tears in his eyes.

"Please don't go."