Shepard Girls

by madame.alexandra

In this very au continuation, Jenny is the girl Gibbs meets in high school - his first love, until some unexpected teenage mistakes change their lives, and the paths they take, forever. Jibbs-oriented, 2nd part of a 4 part series. This part focuses on Jenny Natalie.

2. For Reasons Unknown

a/n: time jump to [pretty obviously] - Kindergarten ! writing in the 90s is so fun, i love it.

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Los Angeles, California: 1990 - 1991

For Reasons Unknown

---

She was by no means the only mother milling around on the sidewalk outside of the elementary school, but she was – unsurprisingly and as usual – the youngest. She could always tell, because often, people did double takes when they saw her – and last week, she'd had a laugh when the superintendent of the county schools had asked if Natalie's mother would be signing the final papers.

Jenny had to politely inform him she was Natalie's mother, not her sister.

In the sun and the slight breeze, Jenny waited for the final bell to ring. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her slouchy jeans, her trusty bag slung over her shoulder – her hair looked a little windswept, because she'd taken Melanie's convertible, and forgotten, again, how to put the ragtop up. Melanie had only had the car for three weeks, a recent gift to herself.

She'd already caught a raised eyebrow look from one of the more prudish looking mothers, because Jenny's blouse bared her shoulders and her midriff – but these were the kind of clothes women her age were wearing, and Jenny refused to miss out on that; she chalked up the judgment to jealousy – her stomach, young and springy at fifteen, had snapped right back to flat after Natalie's birth, and she could still flaunt it.

Jenny pushed her sunglasses up on her head, her mouth dry with nerves. She'd been shaking when she left Natalie this morning – walking the six blocks to the bus stop, and then taking the bus back to Melanie's condo, because Melanie had needed the car this morning – so worried that the little girl would be scared, or lonely, or – all kinds of things.

She'd even taken off the ankh necklace she always wore and given it to Natalie, just to make sure she had a token of familiarity with her. The Kindergarten teacher hadn't allowed Natalie to bring her Cabbage Patch doll, affectionately called Squash.

Jenny had Squash tucked into her bag, so Natalie could have her right away, if she still wanted her. She knew Natalie would be extremely thrilled to get a ride in the convertible – she hated the city buses; she thought they made scary noises.

Natalie had seemed okay when Jenny left. Still, Jenny had stopped to turn and look back at the school so many times – too many times to count. She had trudged to the bus stop, felt lost on her way home – she couldn't believe she was putting her daughter in school, couldn't believe that so much time had passed.

In more than one way, their lives were changing this year, becoming something totally different – Natalie was starting school, and in the next few weeks, Jenny was as well.

Four years after she'd walked at her high school graduation, three after she'd gotten her GED and aced the SAT, she was finally starting her undergraduate career – the same year that her old best friend from high school graduated with a bachelor's.

Little things like that … didn't bother her so much, these days.

"Your first?"

Jenny turned, startled – she hadn't expected someone to speak to her. There was a woman standing next to her, jingling some keys. She smiled wryly at Jenny.

"Pardon?" Jenny asked.

"Kid," the woman said, nodding her head. "Your first to go off to Kindergarten?"

"Oh," Jenny breathed, looking back at the school. "Yes – first," she agreed. "Last," she added, with a wistful laugh.

The woman laughed.

"Ah, knock on wood," she warned. "I said that two kids ago. This is definitely my last, though," she sighed. "The first is always hardest."

Jenny nodded.

"Boy or girl?"

"Girl," Jenny answered guardedly. "Her name is Natalie."

"Mine's Farrah," the woman said. "Husband picked it. Only girl."

Jenny smiled, and turned towards her a little more.

"Jenny Shepard," she said, holding out her hand.

The woman shook it.

"Marlene Cortland," she introduced. She looked at Jenny with interest for a moment. "You'll learn to really enjoy the hours they're in school. Those moments to yourself," she encouraged.

"Well," Jenny said, shrugging. "I'll be in school, too, for the most part."

Marlene beamed.

"I admire that," she said. "I had my first baby when I was an undergrad at Wellesley. Husband joined the Army, and now we're here, four kids later, and I never finished."

She said it all so blithely, and on the inside, Jenny cringed – four kids, after one that was probably too early? She wanted to shiver, and step away, but she didn't; Marlene said it with no malice and no regret.

"Where are you going?"

"California State, at Long Beach," Jenny answered.

"And your field of study?"

Jenny felt like she was talking to her father, suddenly, but she smiled all the same – she liked talking about it; she liked that she could finally answer these questions with certainty and direction.

"Information technology, actually."

"You look nothing like a robot geek."

Jenny laughed – her mother had thought the choice a very boring, un-sexy degree as well.

"Well, I'm not," she conceded. "But computers are going to be very big."

It was why she'd gone for it – she really had no personal interested in technology, but the shrewdness in her understood that she'd be marketable with this kind of degree, and she knew she wasn't in a position to go for something frivolous and nebulous, like History or Political Science. Those were degrees where you needed connections and an unwavering ability to work to the bone, night until dawn, and Jenny just couldn't swing that with Natalie.

She did give herself a small treat – she chose to minor in political science, and she was taking some Russian languages classes, as well – Russian was always helpful in the Cold War!

The bell rang, and Jenny turned to the school, craning her neck.

"Will they all run out, or can I go get her?" she asked aloud.

"There will be a tidal wave," Marlene said, right as kids came dashing out the front door.

Everyone who had parents waiting for them came out the front; those headed for the school buses swarmed out the back.

Jenny stepped forward and looked eagerly, searching for a mass of silky, uncut auburn hair in the crowd of screaming and chattering little kids. She spotted Natalie as she broke the crowd and came scampering over, and she couldn't help but jump in her spot a little, like an excited kid herself.

"Natalie!" she cried.

Natalie zoomed up to the sidewalk and crashed into her legs.

Jenny crouched down and wrapped her arms around her, smiling in relief.

"Where's your headband?" she gasped, leaning back and ruffling Natalie's hair.

Natalie pulled it out of her pocket.

"A boy pulled it off my head," she said simply. "I pushed him right in the dirt, and made him wear it, but now it has cooties."

Jenny laughed, and nodded her head.

"Good girl," she praised, taking the headband and putting it in her bag. "I brought you a surprise," she said, pulling the doll out.

"Squash!" cried Natalie, taking her. She gave the doll a kiss.

"I hope you didn't miss her too much," Jenny said earnestly, searching Natalie's face – had she enjoyed Kindergarten, had she made any friends?

Natalie hugged Squash tight, but grinned, her eyes crinkling.

"She would be bored," she said earnestly. "We had a reading circle – Mommy, did you know other kids can't read?"

Natalie said it with such bemused innocence that Jenny didn't have the heart to shush her – in fact, she secretly hoped some of the other parents had over heard, especially the one with the outfit–judging eyes. Yes, that's right, Jenny thought – the mother whose stomach is showing has a five-year-old who can read.

Jenny stood, and Natalie looked up at the woman beside her.

"Hello," she greeted.

"Natalie, this is Ms. Cortland – she's Farrah's Mommy, did you meet a Farrah?"

Natalie blinked blankly, and Marlene laughed.

"Farrah is probably off chasing butterflies – it was nice to meet you, Jenny," she said, waving. "You as well, Natalie."

Natalie waved at her, and then turned back to Jenny.

"Can we walk down to the beach?" she asked.

"I have a better idea," Jenny said, holding up the keys and making them jingle. "We're going to take Melly's sunny car, and go get ice cream!"

Natalie's eyes lit up, and she snuggled up to Jenny's side, hugging her. The dog tags around her neck pressed coolly into Jenny's thigh, and she reached down to move them aside, tucking them back into the front of Natalie's denim romper.

"I love the sunny car," Natalie said smugly – it's what she called the convertible, despite knowing the real world for it. Jenny liked it – it sounded fun and cute, and Natalie looked like a little Hollywood queen in the back in her car seat with little red cat's eye sunglasses on.

"C'mon," Jenny said, laughing. "Ice cream waits for no woman."

"But it waits for little girls!" Natalie piped up, taking Jenny's hand and allowing herself to be led to the car.

Jenny helped her in, buckling her seatbelt and double-checking its security before slipping into the driver's seat and maneuvering out of the school parking lot. She waited until they were somewhat away from the crowds and the traffic, speeding along the way to their favorite little hide-away ice cream parlor, to catch her daughter's eye in the rearview mirror.

She cleared her throat nervously.

"Natalie?" she asked. "Well, how was it?"

Natalie looked up, her long hair blowing – Jenny rarely ever got Natalie a hair cut, and only ever to trim the edges to keep them healthy. It hung wild all over the place – Natalie had fairy princess hair, and sometimes Jenny was wistfully jealous.

"How was what, Mommy?" Natalie feigned cluelessness.

"How was your first day?" Jenny asked anxiously.

For some reason, she felt like if Natalie hated it – it would be all her fault; it would be because she failed as a mother, she'd gone horribly wrong. How could she keep sending her baby to school if Natalie said she hated it, or was miserable, or –

Her daughter shrugged, and then sat Squash in her lap primly.

"I like my teacher," she said eagerly. Her voice was soft – Natalie's voice was almost always soft, even when she was yelling or angry or scared – if that made sense at all. She frowned. "A mean boy made fun of my name."

"You have a perfectly normal name," Jenny said, frowning.

Natalie? How could anyone make fun of Natalie? She had done such a good job picking out a nice, normal average name, with a cute nickname, and a couple of famous people to be proud of.

"My middle name," the little girl grumbled.

"Ah," Jenny smiled at her in the rearview mirror. "He was probably just jealous. Maybe he has a boring middle name, like Bob. Or a silly one, like Josephus."

Natalie smirked, and then gave Jenny a serious, lofty look.

"My middle name is a silly middle name."

"It's unique," Jenny soothed gently. Without thinking, almost, she said: "Your father picked it out."

Little blue eyes looked at her with interest, and then her daughter looked away, the brief flicker of curiosity gone, erased with ease.

"I don't like it," she mumbled forlornly. "I don't remember Daddy."

Jenny looked away, her eyes on the crowded Los Angeles streets. The sight of so many people made her feel claustrophobic for a moment; she bit down hard on the inside of her lip – why had she said anything? Why had she mentioned Gibbs at all?

Because – she answered herself as reflex – because she still struggled sometimes, between keeping mum on the subject of him at all, and maybe subtly letting Natalie know that he wasn't a bad man, he was just … a mysterious man, at least to the little girl.

It hadn't taken long for Natalie to forget; Jenny wondered how long it would take her to be bitter.

She wondered when she'd ask questions – she never did, now, and for that Jenny was grateful; she'd never decided what she was going to say. She didn't blame Natalie for not remembering, for currently having no interest – though she knew, as Natalie went through school, she'd start to wonder; she'd start to have more complex interests and thoughts on where she'd come from, and who her mother was.

But for now—it made sense that she didn't worry about it, and it was a relief for Jenny – it had made it so much easier to move on, and Natalie was so young, things just didn't stick with her yet; when she thought of Stillwater, she thought of Grandpa Jasper, and sometimes mentioned Grandpa Jack – she didn't remember Ann, and that broke Jenny's heart – and she didn't seem to remember Gibbs too clearly, even from the days when he'd been a constant fixture.

The last time Gibbs had seen Natalie had been … God, a year ago – he'd been at Pendleton, he said, for sniper training school, and they'd had a tense meeting – it had been agony for her and, inevitably, they'd had a fight, and tried to keep it from Natalie that they were fighting.

On that day though – she, Natalie, had smiled; she'd seemed to have fun … the memory just didn't poignantly stick with her.

She tried not to think about that day very much. She wondered what he'd done after Sniper School; she wondered if he was still stationed here in California. He only called Natalie on holidays now – she didn't know why, but she guessed because it just hurt him too much, or maybe because he sensed that Jenny didn't like it – it wasn't that she didn't want Natalie to know Jethro, but deep down, she was afraid that one day Natalie would hate her, and she didn't want to have to face and explain the choices she'd made.

Maybe she was a little bitter, a little petty – she had the eerie feeling that Gibbs had found someone else, and that did something to her, damaged her deeply, so she tried to ignore the voices in her head. She didn't know why she felt he'd started up with another girl, except that he'd had a pink and red bracelet made of yarn on his wrist the last time she'd seen him, and it just didn't seem like something he'd make for himself on a whim.

But she didn't know a thing about his life, and that was her fault, and she always pushed these brief thoughts away.

"Mommy?" Natalie asked.

"Mm-hmm?"

"Did you have fun at your school?"

Jenny grinned at her.

"You are so nice to ask – so smart to remember," she complimented.

She made a sharp turn – in her reverie, she'd almost missed the ice cream parlor – and then swiftly parked the convertible close to the cute, dainty little area. She unbuckled her seatbelt, and turned around.

"It was fun," she allowed. "I picked all my classes, and got them in order, and they start in ten days." She held up her fingers happily. "But one of my classes is at night, so that night you'll stay with Samantha upstairs."

Natalie nodded. She unbuckled her seatbelt a little clumsily, and leaned forward.

"Can I come with you? I think I like school," she said.

Jenny laughed.

"You have years until college – but I promise, you can go where ever you want, and I'll do anything to make sure you can, okay?"

"Okay," Natalie said.

"You just have to promise me one thing," Jenny said wryly.

"One thing," Natalie repeated. "What?"

Jenny looked from side to side, and leaned closer, lowering her voice.

"You'll be much, much smarter than me."

Natalie laughed softly, tossing her hair. She scrunched her little nose and widened her eyes sweetly.

"Silly Mommy," she trilled.

Jenny smiled at her, and tilted her head. She got out of the car, and came around to help Natalie out, bending to kiss her forehead before she took her hand and swung her down onto the pavement.

"Remember what Mommy starting school means, Bug?" Jenny asked, smoothing Natalie's long hair.

Natalie nodded primly and squeezed Jenny's hand, hopping up and down excitedly.

"We get to do out homework together!"

Jenny laughed, and on a whim, swept Natalie up into her arms and hugged her, figuring that the first day of Kindergarten deserved a little special treatment – Natalie was too big to be carried, and this might be the last time she ever curled up in Jenny's arms and giggled like she was a toddler again.

---

Reminiscent of her high school days, on the first day of class she sat front and center – half an hour early.

Well – in high school, she had rarely been that early for class, and in her sophomore year, before Natalie, she'd occasionally sat in the back with Gibbs – never slacking off like him, but enjoying his little nook of academic mediocrity, where she didn't raise her hand every second and make her peers roll their eyes.

It had been so long since she'd been in school, though, and she had so little of an idea of what college would be like – she was starting at the age she should be graduating, she feared how much younger everyone would be, what they'd think of her, she felt out of place already, even in this empty room.

At least it was a night class – that meant more mature students, she assumed; it wouldn't be like her other classes – not that she'd had any yet. It was Monday; her one and only class on Monday was the night class, and it was over at eight, so she'd be home just in time to check on Natalie before she fell asleep.

She sat up straight, touching her hair nervously – she'd been so worried about what to wear; what did one wear to college, anyway? She ended up choosing a casual dusty green dress, and a light coat of her mother's in case she got cold. Her book was brand new. She'd used her left over loan money to splurge on new books. It made her feel better, somehow, about starting so late – fresh, new books, for her to mark up, and panic over, and study.

A smile touched her lips.

The classroom door opened, and another student entered. She started in, looked around, grimaced a little sheepishly, and then stepped up to the front, looking around. She hesitated, and then took the seat right next to Jenny, lowering her backpack to the floor with a soft thunk.

She was in military fatigues; Jenny recognized them immediately – anyone would, but Jenny had a keener eye than most for exactly what branch, and what rank; her father had taught her well.

They were Navy ACUs; the girl was, if Jenny remembered the insignias correctly, a Petty Officer. What class – well, Jenny wasn't that good.

The girl caught her looking, and Jenny turned away a little, not wanting to stare.

Navy girl cleared her throat.

"I'm always early," she remarked into the silence. "I can't help it. My sister told me that no one shows up to college classes more than five minutes early, but," the girl laughed, maybe a little nervously. "Who wants to take advice from a younger sister?"

Jenny turned a little. She tilted her head.

"Your younger sister went to college before you?" she asked.

She hoped she didn't sound too hopeful, but the idea that this girl – also early, and a little embarrassed about it – was starting late, too –

"Yes," the girl answered. "She did what she was supposed to – top of her class at Catholic school, summa cum laude at Notre Dame," she gave a small sigh. "I thought it would be fun to sow some wild oats first."

Jenny smirked.

"What did you reap?"

"Well, I won a wet t-shirt contest on Spring Break, but I got busted for underage drinking."

Jenny laughed – it was said with such frank acceptance. The girl cracked a wry grin.

"I'm Kate," she said, introducing herself.

"Jenny," Jenny replied. She paused. "I'm getting a late start as well," she added dryly.

Kate arched her brows.

"Hmm, Girls Gone Wild?"

"If you ask my father," Jenny answered, with a laugh. She pursed her lips. "So – did your parents make you join the military?"

Kate shrugged.

"Not so much," she said dryly. "My sister is perfect, my four brothers give them hell, they kind of let me slip through the cracks – after they refused to pay for Villanova, due to my little stunt. So," Kate drawled. "I decided on boot camp. Totally different than my sister, tougher than my brothers."

"Four?"

"Catholic."

Jenny grinned. Kate tilted her head, and tucked a strand of stick-straight dark brunette hair behind her ear – it was falling out of the austere regulation bun. She had a vague, extremely thin line of freckles on her nose, and she kind of reminded Jenny of Snow White.

"Are you ROTC?"

"No, I'm enlisted," Kate said, shrugging. "I just finished up at the Presidio, Defense – "

"Language institute," Jenny supplied.

"—language, hey, yeah," Kate said, nodding. She smiled, impressed, and pushed on. "So – yeah, I finished up there, and then they sent me to Seal Beach. I decided to milk 'em for the degree while I'm around."

Jenny nodded. She started to ask another question, but Kate cut her off.

"I'm talking a lot – how did you know DLI is at Monterey?"

"My Dad," Jenny answered promptly. "Retired U.S. Army – he did Vietnamese there, when I was little."

"Nice," Kate said. "I was Russian – typical. Navy, submarines, possible submarine warfare – Russian."

"I'm taking Russian," Jenny remarked. "Not anything that intense."

"It's a marketable language," Kate said matter-of-factly. "You'll pick it up nicely."

There were more students filling in now – all of them looking either bored or unenthusiastic, and Jenny leaned towards Kate a little, with a tense glance around the room.

"I get the feeling that being the oldest in college isn't cool like it was in high school," she mumbled.

"You're telling me," Kate said. "These California college students hate the military," she revealed dryly. "I thought I'd be safe staying away from the Berkeleys and the Irvines.

"I like the military," Jenny said honestly.

She felt a twinge of guilt – here she was, slightly starry-eyed and impressed over Kate's military choice and military career, when she'd hardly been able stomach Gibbs' choice to do the same.

Was she sexist, hypocritical?

She bit the inside of her lip, and tried to stop thinking about that.

A student sat down behind Jenny, and propped his feet up on the back of her chair. He lit a cigarette, and Kate shot him a narrow look.

"There are some places talking about making it illegal to smoke inside," she said, her voice rising a little. "California is good for some things."

"Where are you from?" Jenny asked with a laugh – she recognized another Conservative, small-town raised girl when she heard one speak.

"Indiana," Kate answered. "You?"

"Pennsylvania."

"We're a long way from the heartland."

"Neither of those are the heartland."

"Okay, the Amish and the Hoosiers, then."

Both of them laughed, and Jenny felt relieved – she felt less intimidated, to click so instantly with someone; it made her feel less like a pariah, an oddity, an outcast. She sat back in her chair, hitting the guy behind her's feet a little – he moved them, and she smirked triumphantly.

"We should go get drinks after this," Kate said brightly. "Toast to a first class – I know this great place, it's a pier on the beach, kind of - you up for it?"

Jenny opened her mouth eagerly, about to say yes – and then she caught herself; no, she'd promised Natalie she'd be home to tell her all about the day. Natalie was getting to stay up a whole half hour later just to see Jenny – and besides, Jenny needed to go home; she just couldn't go out and drink and socialize and – party – like other people in their early twenties: other than college, she had a baby and a job.

She began to simply vaguely say she couldn't, and then she changed her mind.

"I can't – I have to put my daughter to bed," she said firmly, but with enough regret so that Kate would know she'd really have liked to go.

"Oh – aw, how old's your daughter?"

Jenny smiled wryly.

"Five. She'll be six in November."

Kate blinked sharply – there it was. Jenny watched her brain work as the other girl scrambled to guess how old Jenny must be, and then she tilted her head and pursed her lips with interest.

"That's why your father would say you went wild," she guessed astutely.

"Precisely," Jenny hissed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

Kate leaned over on her arms.

"Can I ask – "

"I'm twenty-two," Jenny interrupted, sensing the question – it was always the next question.

"So you were – "

"Fifteen. Well, sixteen, when she was born."

Kate's mouth opened incredulously.

"Hey – that means you'll be thirty-three when she's eighteen," she said swiftly.

Jenny raised her eyebrows, amused – no one had ever calculated that for her before. She laughed; it was true, after all; an interesting thing for Kate to point out – there were some women who had their first babies at that age.

Jenny swallowed, and then licked her lips.

"She's in school during the day," she began. "So if you're on campus, we can get lunch – or with more notice, I can get a babysitter, but I just can't stay out late. I don't really drink because of – her, so – "

"I'll give you my schedule and we can see about lunch or something," Kate said. "But, you know, I like kids, so if you need to bring her along, I wouldn't mind."

Jenny bit the inside of her cheek. She smiled gratefully – that was such a kind offer, and it simply made her twice as likely to try to get a sitter, because she really needed some time to just have a friend her own age sometimes, and the past two and a half years had been full of constant work, socializing a bare minimum with people she barely knew, and spending most of her time with Natalie or Melanie.

"She's a very good study buddy," Jenny said fondly.

"She is?" Kate asked, bemused.

"Yes," Jenny laughed. "When you look to your left and see a little five-year-old intently working, you feel motivated."

Kate snorted, and nodded, taking her book out of her canvas backpack. She nodded at the front of the room – the professor had walked in.

"Let's see what this guy can teach us about HTML coding," she said, sounding a little pained. "By the way – what's her name, your baby?"

"Natalie," Jenny said proudly.

She liked to talk about her like this. She didn't often get to.

"I like that," Kate said. She winked, and started to turn back to the front, but not before giving Jenny a sidelong look, and nodding her head firmly. "You seem really impressive," she remarked blithely.

Jenny bit her lip, and turned to the front, starting to tune into the beginning of the lecture – even coming from someone she'd just barely met, the words meant so much: she wanted people to see her like that, see how hard she was working – because that's what she'd been doing for the past couple of years, just to get to this single pivotal point – her and Natalie, both safely in school, with at least some semblance of stable futures secured.

---

The small room was incredibly cluttered – usually, Jenny kept her and Natalie's space very neat; because of its size, cleanliness and organization was paramount to a peaceful environment. Things had gotten away from her lately, though, and try as she might she couldn't find one of her elementary coding textbooks – and she was trying to wade through laundry to search for it.

"Mommy," Natalie peeked around the corner. "Mommy, I need homework help."

"Okay," Jenny murmured. "One minute, baby – maybe Melly can help you."

"Melly said she's bad at math."

Jenny rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Melly can do Kindergarten math," she grumbled to herself.

But she bit her tongue – Melanie was more of a fair-weather adult, these days. It didn't bother Jenny - she'd always expected that to happen once the novelty of having Natalie around wore off.

Jenny pressed her hand to her forehead, and then she shrugged violently and gave up. She grabbed her Russian book and decided she'd get that translation done instead – work had piled up so quickly; it was only November, and she was swamped. It was invigorating, she was only just realized how much she missed academics, but damn – it was like these professors thought the only thing she had to do was their assignments.

Didn't they know that she had to work – occasionally two jobs – and that on top of that, a six-year-old was a full time job in itself? And, ugh, she was sleeping in a room that was fast becoming too small for the both of them to be living in it – but it was still going to take another two or three years for her to get the down payment for her own place – her mother had advised her that it was stupid to move out just to pour rent into a place for no return, and Jenny had decided to stay until she could buy a place.

"Okay, okay," Jenny breathed. She bent over Natalie. "What do you need – stop chewing on this," she said, taking the dog tags out of Natalie's mouth swiftly. "That's gross, Natalie."

"Why?" she asked. "I already took a bath. I put soap on them. And me!"

"It's – bad for your teeth, and, metal, and," Jenny stammered, and then rolled her eyes. She popped the dog tags back in Natalie's mouth. "Fine, then. If it helps you concentrate."

She squinted at the worksheet.

"So, when you do these, you add each column – Natalie," she broke off, taking the paper. "Why are these double digits? What?" exasperated, Jenny examined the page.

What was this teacher trying to do – good god, it was just Kindergarten, and Jenny was staring at a question that asked Natalie what eleven-plus-eleven was.

Natalie turned her head up, her blue eyes wide.

"The other homework is too easy," she said simply, her voice soft and unassuming. "I got bored and did it during book time in class so I got this. I like it."

Jenny stared.

"So – what did you – help with…?" she trailed off.

Natalie took the paper back, and pointed.

"I drew these," she said.

She pointed to handwritten numbers – a twenty-two, in her surprisingly neat but somewhat wobbly handwriting, and a minus, and a seven.

"Is this answer fifteen, Mommy?"

Jenny looked, and nodded.

Twenty-two minus seven – yes, fifteen," she agreed. She gave her a look. "Did you figure that out on your own?"

"I don't know," Natalie said simply. She frowned. "I wanted this kind of minus worksheet, but Miss Kent said it was for second graders – but I wanted to know some numbers, because this boy said you were twelve when I was born."

Jenny blinked, appalled.

"Okay – no," she said. She sat down. "So – wait, then what were you doing here?"

"I know you're twenty-two and I'm six, but I think twelve is too little to have a baby girl."

Jenny rubbed her forehead. She took the pencil gently from Natalie.

She wrote a sixteen, a plus, and a six.

"I was sixteen, Natalie," she said.

"But what about when I was in your ribs?"

"Uterus. That's only nine months. If you count that, I was fifteen."

"Is that too young?"

"Yes," Jenny answered.

Natalie tapped her lips.

"Hmmm," she mused.

"Hmmm," Jenny mused right back. "Put that smart brain back on your colouring project, why don't you?" she coaxed dryly. Jenny smirked and tousled the dog tags at Natalie's throat. She poked her gently in the lips with them. "And maybe keep these between your teeth, chatterbox," she added dryly.

She ruffled Natalie's hair and watched her go back to work – some loudmouth mother must be running her mouth about Jenny, no doubt pissy that Natalie was such an outstanding student – and a good little kid, as well. Jenny had never stopped being quietly but very brazenly younger than everyone else, and there were a few PTA moms – who were appalled that Jenny couldn't find time for the PTA – who whispered behind hands about her.

It was less than she'd faced in Stillwater; they hardly bothered her, but if they were going to start making Natalie ask questions in a roundabout way –

"Jennifer, purple or blue?"

Jenny looked up to the doorway; her mother was holding up dresses.

"Purple," Jenny murmured. "Have you seen my coding book?"

"That awful thing with the alien symbols all over it?"

"It's Pascal, it's a programming language – you can build graphics with it – like I could show your clients visuals of – "

Melanie groaned like a teenager bored in biology. She held up her hand.

"If I saw it, I probably burned it," she joked.

"Dammit," swore Jenny under her breath. "That book was near a hundred bucks – ugh, never mind," she sat down to her Russian book. "Natalie, finish that worksheet, and then it's bed time."

"Can I read a book first?"

Jenny shot her a narrow look.

"If it's less than fifty pages," she said pointedly.

Last night she'd asked if she could read one chapter of a grown up book before bed. Jenny had found her tucked in a corner, reading the dictionary – she considered 'B' to be a chapter, and she barely comprehended half of it.

Natalie smiled sweetly. She peeked over at Jenny's work.

"What do the words say?"

"This one is flower," Jenny sighed. "This one is," she stared at it, suddenly having trouble making sense of the Cyrillic.

God, she was tired – and after Natalie went to bed, she needed to mend the silk dress one of her clients had brought to her – using Stillwater skills, of course.

"I'll try not to wake anyone up when I come home tonight," Melanie laughed.

"You never wake Bug up, Mom," Jenny said. "She sleeps like her – a – she sleeps like a rock," Jenny said, stumbling over her words.

She'd almost said she slept like Gibbs; she caught herself. She chewed on her lip and cleared her throat – she was really not bringing up Gibbs right now, because Natalie's sixth birthday had come and gone in the past week, and he hadn't called.

Natalie hadn't seemed to notice at all, but it was fourteen days later and there was no card, either. She didn't want to trigger a sudden memory from Natalie; Natalie was too bright for her own good – she was scary smart.

The phone rang, and Melanie answered it back in her room. Jenny got up to get a glass of wine – she didn't begrudge herself a small glass with homework, once Natalie was about to be in bed. She figured it was better Natalie not see drinking as some mysterious wild taboo – she'd be less driven to sneak into it later on.

"Jenny," Melanie came into the room, gesturing at the antique phone on a table in the living area.

"Who is it?" Jenny asked warily. She didn't think it would be Gibbs; he never asked to speak to her – he did it if he happened to get her on the phone, but he didn't ask for her if he was lucky enough to get Melanie.

"Your father."

Jenny stared at her.

"Nat, Grandpa's – "

"No, Jenny, he asked for you," Melanie said swiftly.

She ducked back into her bedroom, finishing getting ready for – whatever she was up to tonight – and Jenny turned, staring at the phone. Her dad…Jasper, like Gibbs, almost never called specifically to talk to her. She swallowed, and her heart leapt into her throat – that couldn't be good, right?

Something could have happened to Jackson, she supposed or –

No, something could have happened to Gibbs.

Jenny kissed Natalie's head and got up, sitting down on the couch. She stared at the phone for a moment, and then picked it up gingerly and held it to her ear.

"Dad?"

"Jennifer. I hope this isn't a bad time."

"No, I'm just glancing at some homework while Natalie finishes – Dad," she broke off, rambling. "Is someone dead?"

"No," Jasper Shepard said tightly. He sounded a little bitter – maybe he didn't like that their relationship had deteriorated to the point that she thought that, if he wanted to talk to her, someone must have met a tragic end. "I called to," he paused, "to see how you are doing."

Jenny blinked.

"Oh," she said. "I'm well," she said awkwardly. "You know, I – well, things are good. I'm tired," she laughed a little, leaning back. She watched the back of Natalie's head for a moment, and then worried her bottom lip with her tongue. "I'm always tired."

"Children can do that to you," he remarked mildly – even with a sense of sympathy. He was quiet for a moment.

"Dad," she started. "I – don't get me wrong, I'd like to talk to you more, but – "

"Your mother told me you started college."

Jenny fell silent.

"The last time we spoke," Jasper said, hesitating. "You didn't mention that you were going to college, Jennifer," he sighed mildly – he sounded a little wistful. "The last time I heard anything about it, you'd gotten some – absurd score on the SAT. You didn't seem to be going anywhere with it."

Jenny grit her teeth. She understood he was reaching out, but some of what he said nettled her.

"I wasn't going anywhere with it at the time because I was still struggling to adjust – and I couldn't afford to do college and childcare, I had to wait until Natalie got to school. It – but you never really listened to me, when I explained that."

He was silent; contritely so.

"I thought you'd have told me you were going."

"Well, Dad, I haven't really gotten the impression you particularly cared what I'm doing with my life."

It felt good to snap that out at him, and to her surprise, he didn't really come back with a disapproving platitude. He cleared his throat.

"Why don't you fill me in?"

Jenny paused.

She looked over at Natalie again.

"Sweetheart," she called. "Will you go brush your teeth and start that book? I'll come tuck you in when I think you've had a generous time to read."

Natalie nodded, and got up, taking her workbook page with her.

"Leave the homework at the table."

"I want to do it!"

"Live life while you can, Bugaboo."

Natalie left the paper, and trudged off to go brush her teeth. Jenny grinned, and held the phone closer to her ear.

"Natalie is smarter than everyone," she cackled proudly. "She's doing second grade math – you'd be so proud, Dad." Jenny sighed. "I love her. She's so perfect."

"Don't start telling her that," Jasper said dryly. "She'll grow up with a complex."

"Oh, I plan to keep her genius a closely guarded secret – from her, specifically," Jenny retorted.

She fell silent, and then took a deep breath.

"Okay, well – I started college at California State, Long Beach," she said. "It's … about forty minutes from Mom's complex, and the commute is a bitch but it was the only school that was cheap but had a good reputation," she felt like she was rambling, so she paused, and swallowed. "They gave me … a decent scholarship, decent."

"You took out a loan?" he guessed.

"I had to," Jenny confessed. "It – it eases things up in general. I'm trying to buy a car, too," she faltered, and went back to school. "I'm working, still, so I'm thinking by the end of it I can break even on the loan."

"You still at that library?"

"Huh-uh," Jenny answered. "No, they demoted – made everyone volunteers. For a while I was just subsisting on the seamstress work I was getting, but then a couple of months ago I started waiting tables again – exhausting, but, cash."

Jasper made an approving noise.

"What are you studying?"

"Information technology, and political science."

He whistled sharply.

"That's shrewd," he said sincerely. "Computers, IT stuff – those jobs are going to marketable, Jennifer, I'm glad to hear you're thinking so practically."

Jenny made a noncommittal noise – he'd never given her enough credit in that department; they didn't always see eye-to-eye on practical, but she'd never really thought herself to be an out of control dreamer. Dissatisfied with what she should have grinned and borne, maybe, but not fanciful.

"It's challenging, and I don't love it, but it's stimulating," she demurred. "The struggle is more – I have to use the on campus computer labs so much, and sometimes I just have to take Natalie with me. I know it bores her, but she behaves very well, while I do homework."

"Mel won't watch her?"

Jenny laughed shortly.

"Dad – you know I love her, I'm grateful to her for everything, but there is one mother in this household, and she's twenty-two."

Jasper snorted.

Jenny swallowed, chewing on her lip again.

"I've been saving as much as I can – that's sort of why I took a loan for school. Student loans have much more forgiving repayment and deferment plans – and I simply needed to save the other money to – well, Natalie and I are still sharing a room."

"Ah," Jasper said mildly. "You plan to get your own apartment soon?"

"The plan is a condominium in the area," Jenny said simply. "Mom knows some good ones, decently priced. That way I'm paying monthly to own, not just throwing rent away."

"That's an astronomical expense – "

"I know," Jenny said softly. She paused, and cringed – she didn't know how he'd react to this. "Mom – Mom is going to match whatever I have at the end of ninety-two. To help me out."

Jasper was quiet.

"Your mother is very generous," he said finally – nothing more, nothing less; just calm acceptance of the deal.

Jenny breathed a sigh of relief.

"You have plans for after college?"

"Daddy," she said, sighing. "I'm – I'm just reveling in the fact that I finally got here," she said. "My plan for after college is to keep Natalie at the top of her class and out of some blue-eyed knockout's hayloft."

It was a light joke, but of course it had scarily significant meaning behind it.

"Speaking of," Jasper said dryly. "Do you speak to Leroy?"

Jenny looked down the hall; no sight of Natalie. She sank back into the couch a little, and brought her pinky to her lips, biting the tip warily. She shook her head, and then realized he couldn't see her.

"No," she said quietly, her voice steady. "He – as a matter-of-fact, he didn't call on Bug's birthday, this year."

She sensed her father's unease, then his irritation. He sighed heavily.

"I did think that he was a better man than that," he said grudgingly. "I thought, down to my bones, that he'd fight for that little girl."

Jenny swallowed hard.

"I don't think it's that simple, Dad," she said guiltily.

She didn't tell him about the last time they'd seen each other; how painful and uncomfortable it had been – how eerie and wrong it had felt, the argument over Natalie, and him being around – Jenny's uncertainty and guilt.

"Don't – make up your mind about Jethro," Jenny sighed tiredly. "I don't know what I did to him. Maybe I broke him."

"That is not Natalie's fault," Jasper said brashly.

"No," Jenny agreed softly.

But she didn't bear much ill will towards Gibbs on that front – any moment in which she felt bitter or nettled that he hadn't fought for Natalie, or that he didn't try harder, a second later she was running from those feelings because she dreaded the day when he'd stop wavering on what to do and demand every single one of his rights.

It wasn't, it wasn't, it really wasn't that she was keeping Natalie from Gibbs; but Jenny was selfishly terrified of what would happen if they tried to do joint custody now – if they tried to drag Natalie all over the country, in ten different directions.

"Jennifer, I don't know how much time you have to watch the news – "

"I'm a poly sci minor, Dad," she interrupted. "My classes are all full of debates concerning to what extent our arming the Mujahedeen in nineteen-seventy-nine caused this Gulf situation."

"Beware that gulf situation," Jasper said bluntly. "Marines are always the first in."

Jenny paused, but before she could say anything, Natalie crept in. She yawned, and held out a hairbrush.

"I'm all tangled," she simpered. "Can you sing me a lullaby?"

Jenny held the phone down, and beckoned her over, nodding.

"Here, talk to Grandpa while I brush your hair," she said gently, pulling Natalie into her lap – thus ending the direction of that conversation, because the brief fear that paralyzed her at the thought of Gibbs – thrust into that mess was something she didn't want to talk about.

"Hello, Grandpa," Natalie said politely into the phone. She paused. "I'm happy," she said, answering his generic greeting. "Grandpa, did you know Mommy was sixteen when she had a baby?"

Jenny closed her eyes and let her head fall forward to the crown of Natalie's head, glaring through her eyelids and straight down into Natalie's devious, too-smart little brain. It figured – the six-year-old wunderkind would bring up the most irritating thing that had ever happened to Jasper right when he decided to stop being such an ass about it.

---

It had been three years, give or take some months, and Jenny had yet to tire of the California weather. Sitting on the balcony of the second-floor condominium with a cozy sweater on and a Russian book in her lap, she kept her ears open and listened to Natalie play with Emma, a friend from school.

It was the girls' last day of freedom before the winter holidays were over, and Jenny was supervising a play date; later, Emma's mom was taking the girls to the cinema so Jenny could get some more hardcore studying in – hardcore as in, at the computer lab on campus.

Jenny had struck up an unlikely friendship with Emma's mom; in contrast to Jenny, Michelle was the oldest mom among the Kindergarten parents. She was working on her doctorate, and her husband had wanted to finish paying his medical school loans before they had a baby. Michelle and Jenny were from very different backgrounds, but they still stuck out like sore thumbs – Jenny because she had a six-year-old at twenty-two, Michelle because she had a six-year-old at forty-six.

The girls played in the little courtyard that Melanie's condominium backed up to; Jenny wasn't sure exactly what they were doing, but they were demure and quiet – with the occasional shrieking giggle – so Jenny didn't bother them too much, as long as they stayed in sight.

She turned her attention back to the sentence structure she was going over – the test she had coming up in this class was on grammar and composition; she much preferred vocabulary. She liked to teach Natalie Russian vocabulary as a study mechanism, and Natalie responded by teaching her California history.

The wind blew, and Jenny pulled her sweater around her comfortably, trailing a pen lightly under a rule she needed to memorize. She'd been so busy trying to keep abreast of her work during the break – even get ahead – that sometimes Russian got mixed in her head with technical code and she didn't know if she was building a soviet computer or learning how to program a Bolshevik.

Still – her first semester of college had gone as well as Natalie's first semester of Kindergarten, and Jenny felt she had finally gotten used to the hectic nature of being in school, working, and a parent all at once – though she'd been grateful for the Christmas break.

"Mommy," Natalie yelped.

"Yes?"

"What's your middle name?"

"Morgan," Jenny answered.

She didn't look up. A moment later, Natalie shouted:

"What's Melly's middle name?"

Jenny arched a brow, looking up a little.

"Prudence," she called, waiting.

She heard a shrill giggle.

"Prune-sense," Emma snickered.

"Pru-DENSE," Natalie corrected. She hopped back and Jenny saw her put her hands on her hips thoughtfully. "Nope, don't like those," she decided.

"What are you naming?" Jenny asked warily.

"Emma and I found a gecko," Natalie answered.

Jenny made a face – she wasn't surprised. Natalie still hadn't grown out of her penchant for all things creepy and crawly. Jenny was starting to regret ever letting the nickname Bug stick.

"How do you know it's not a boy lizard?" Jenny asked.

"Hmm," Natalie murmured. "What's your Grandpa's middle name?"

Jenny hesitated, and then frowned – what was…?

"Patrick," she answered – right, it was so normal, she always forgot it came after Jasper.

Natalie and Emma let out groans – apparently nothing was clicking.

"Name him after your Daddy," Emma said.

"No," giggled Natalie. "He's named after the Beverly Hillbillies."

Jenny looked up sharply.

"Natalie, your father's name isn't Jed," she corrected. "It's Jeth-ro."

Natalie giggled. Emma laughed.

"Gecko Jethro," Emma tried.

Natalie tumbled over onto her back, laughing, and their voices faded again, so Jenny could only hear a soft mumble. She shook her head, grinning in spite of herself, and for an peculiar, fleeting moment, she thought – I can't wait to tell Gibbs –

-and then that thought was gone, and she closed her eyes briefly before looking back to her Russian book, and ignoring the wistful voices in her head.

She bit the inside of her cheek and went back to annotating her Russian text, making note of declensions and proper usage of certain verbs – what sort of tense they indicated … she made a personal note to consult Kate about one of the rules – the rule with the yehr sound, she didn't get it – and then the phone next to her rang, nearly startling her out of her skin.

Melanie had recently invested in one of those all-the-rage cordless phones, thrilled that she'd never miss a call anymore since she could take it everywhere – but Melanie wasn't home right now, and Jenny kept the phone with her just in case she called.

She picked it up, but she was so distracted – and her heart was still racing from the shrill sound – that she answered, without thinking, in Russian, miraculously getting the accent incredibly accurate – maybe because she'd been trying to force herself to read silently in Russian while she studied, instead of translating it first.

There was an awkward silence, and as she realized what had happened, she blinked, and shook her head, smiling to herself in embarrassment, and flushing.

"Think I got the wrong number."

Her smile faded in an instant.

"No," she said sharply – and in unmistakable English. "It's – it's me, Jethro, it's Jenny."

Silence again. He cleared his throat heavily.

"You, ah, thinkin' about movin' across the world, instead of just the country?"

She closed her eyes lightly, worrying the inside of her lip with her teeth.

"No," she said softly. "No, I'm – " she started to tell him she was in college, and then she stopped cold.

She didn't know how he'd feel about that; maybe it would remind him of why she'd left, or maybe he would at least know that she'd done exactly what she wanted to, exactly what she said California would help her do.

"It's just something I'm doing," she said finally, her voice feeble.

She fell silent, and stared down at the girls; they were both intently focused on their little gecko – it seemed they were building it a house to keep it closer.

"Speak of the devil," she muttered.

"You talkin' to me, Jen?" he prompted.

She parted her lips hesitantly.

"It's just … the girls, they named a gecko after you," she said, almost as if in a trance. "Gecko Jethro."

His silence this time sounded – yes, sounded – confused; heavy.

"Girls?" he stressed the plural.

"Natalie has a friend over."

He shuffled around. She worried her lip some more; it had been so long since he'd called, she'd almost decided to assume he'd really thrown in the towel concerning her.

Natalie was getting older; this was going to start getting sticky and messy and – odd. She wondered why he was calling now, when he'd missed her birthday, and Thanksgiving and Christmas; she had half a mind to quietly tell him it was best to just let Natalie forget, but what right did she have to do that?

"Why did they name it after me?"

"They're little girls. They just…do things like that."

He grunted vaguely.

"Wouldn't know," he said.

She bristled.

"Did you call to take potshots at me?" she asked sharply, raising her voice a little.

Natalie looked up, and Jenny forced her face into a relaxed smile, waggling her fingers at her as if nothing was wrong. She put her finger to her lips, indicating she was on the phone, and reminded herself to keep her voice low.

"I meant to call on her birthday," he said after a moment, his voice a little raw.

He sounded tired; hesitant. She wondered what was wrong, but she was afraid to ask.

"She had a good one anyway," Jenny said cautiously. "I took her roller blading."

"Tired to put somethin' in the mail for Christmas," he added, ignoring her comment. "It got sent back to me – "

"You sent a card," Jenny said, her brow furrowing. She frowned – they had gotten a card, but it hadn't been Gibbs' usual; he usually included a letter with Natalie's birthday or Christmas packages, and Jenny always took that sealed letter and placed it with the first he'd ever sent.

She used to hoard them, not reading them, to give to Natalie when Natalie could read, but more and more she was realizing she was afraid to give them to her daughter; afraid of what they would say.

She paused, leaning forward.

"It wasn't your handwriting," she murmured to herself – she'd noticed that, back in December, but somehow, she'd forgotten. "Who sent the card?" she asked.

He didn't answer.

"Look, I'll find a way to get the Christmas gift to her – got to figure out the post system," he muttered, as if he were angry at himself.

"Jethro," she said quietly, shaking her head. "Where are you?"

He breathed in and out heavily, and she turned her head, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Are you still at Pendleton?" she asked carefully, her voice small.

That's where he'd been, the last time she saw him. He'd just been selected for sniper school, and changed station – she'd met him to see Natalie – Pendleton, just two hours away, and if he'd been there since sniper school –

Two hours.

He finally answered.

"PCS'd to Monterey right after I qualified," he said dully. She heard him shifting around. "Language; intelligence training. Haven't gotten a break," he growled stiffly.

Pendleton, Monterey – still, all this time; in the same state. That said it all, didn't it? This was irreparable; she should have known there would never be peaceful little visits, even after time had passed.

"What language?"

"Arabic."

She caught her breath.

"And you're still at Monterey…?"

"Germany," he cut her off abruptly. "Jen," he started warily. He swallowed. "I'm deploying to Kuwait."

She closed her eyes heavily, leaning back in her chair. She put her hand against her heart as if she could soothe it, and she clenched her teeth together – the Marines were always the first in. Her father had warned her, and still, she was so used to forcing herself not to think about Gibbs that – that she hadn't even prepared herself for the thought that he might be thrust into that god-awful desert mess.

"Germany?" her voice sounded panicky, and she knew it. "But why – well, they always deploy out of Germany," she said, half to herself, answering her own question.

Most of the central commands were there, and if there were joint operations involved.

"When did you go to Germany? Is that why you haven't called? Kuwait, Jethro – "

"It happened fast," he said dryly; coldly.

She rubbed her elbow with her free hand, tensely pressing her fingertips into her skin. She grappled with something to say – what did he want to hear, why was he calling to tell her? For – some kind of comfort, for hope?

She sucked in her breath, licking her lips, and he cleared his throat.

"I don't know how to tell Natalie," he said warily. "Thought you'd have a better idea of where to start – "

Without thinking, she blurted –

"You aren't telling Natalie a damn thing!"

The silence that followed felt like a punch to the gut. She didn't – she wasn't sure why she'd reacted so violently, except she knew as soon as she said it, that she was going to stand by it.

"Why the hell not, Jenny?" he asked dangerously.

"Why do you think?" she hissed. She turned slightly, after a glance to check on the girls – they were braiding flowers into each other's hair now. "You can't just call up and tell my daughter that you're off to a warzone – she doesn't even know what deployment means – "

"I want my daughter to know I'm thinkin' about her before I – "

"You can't do that, Jethro, you cant!" she cried hoarsely, tears springing to her eyes. "You're so – I'm sorry, I don't want to – I know this is harsh, but you're so abstract to her, you're so – out of sight out of mind and I can't have to suddenly explain to her what deployment is, and the risks, and have her worry about something she can't comprehend – she can't even process feelings about you, really – "

"That isn't my fault," he snarled aggressively. "You're the one who's made it impossible –

"You've were in California for a year – as far as I know – and you made no effort, you barely even call – "

"You made it clear you didn't want me confusing her and you damn well know it, Jenny!" he shouted.

She flinched, flinched at the memory of their last meeting – she had expressed a wariness that Natalie wouldn't understand any of this, why she rarely saw her father, why any of it was happening the way it was – she hadn't necessarily meant for him to – stay away.

"Jethro," she said sharply, trying to calm herself. "Jethro, I don't want to have this conversation with her. It would be different if we were – togeth – married – "

"You made sure that didn't happen, Jen," he said icily. "You don't think she should know? That's your problem – then it's your problem, too, when you've got to tell her I'm dead," he snapped viciously. "Or would you keep that from 'er, too?"

She opened her mouth, wrapping one arm around her middle.

"Gibbs," she said quietly. "Don't – don't go into this thinking you won't come back," she pleaded, switching gears almost instantly. "My father always – he always said the most important thing was the drive to come back."

She thought she was giving him good counsel; his response made her blood run cold.

"What do I have to come back to?"

She wasn't sure if he said it to spite her, to scare her, to vent his true frustration, or all of the above – but her mouth felt as dry as cotton, and she felt an overwhelming mixture of devastation and – anger. Devastation for obvious reasons – guilt was at the root of that – but the anger flared because she felt it was emotional blackmail; she thought it was cruel, that he'd – that he'd suggest –

That she'd drive him to – suicide.

"You have a daughter," she said fiercely.

Her eyes stung again, and her hands were shaking. She tried to hold the phone steady.

"You have a daughter, and you love her – and I don't want that little girl laying awake at night, scared and worried that you're going to die, when she barely knows you. I know that's my fault. I know that. But she's not going to suffer for my mistakes. She cries for dead spiders, Jethro. She cries for dead spiders. I'm not going to put this burden on her. She's six."

Jenny paused, and licked her lips.

"But if you ever tell me you have nothing to come back to again, I will find out where you are and I will make you remember. I don't give a damn if you hate me, Jethro. But your life is worth more than what I did to you. Your life means more to other people."

She sucked in her breath and swallowed the rest of her rage – she hardly even knew what she was saying anymore, she just knew she didn't want him going off to battle with the notion that she'd be relieved if it killed him; that her life would be less complicated. She was on the verge of promising him he could have every weekend he wanted, that she'd suck it up, she'd suffer the discomfort, she'd make herself face him every day, if he just – didn't take too many risks.

And she didn't even know why she felt the way she did; she had run away, she had cut him out, and yet there was so much conflict in her whenever he was involved – and maybe it all boiled down to the dark fear that rested in the back of her mind, that Natalie would hate her one day for choosing to get more freedom and independence, to follow her own path, instead of becoming a Marine's wife in the hopes that she'd make her own way someday.

He sighed heavily.

"I want to talk to her."

"You won't tell her, Jethro. You – "

"Jesus Christ, Jen, let me talk to her," he growled. He paused, and the quiet was deafening. "I want to hear her voice," he confessed huskily. "Jenny, I just want to hear her, before I go."

She stood up immediately.

"Natalie Winter," she called, steadying her own voice as much as possible. She forced a bright smile. "Natalie, there's a gecko on the phone for you."

"What's that mean, Mommy?" Natalie asked, looking up, confused. Then she cocked her head. "Daddy?"

Jenny nodded.

"He'd like to talk, honey, come on," Jenny encouraged.

Natalie scrambled up and came flouncing towards the condos. Jenny heard her coming up the breezeway stairs, and then behind her, the apartment door opened and Natalie came gracefully through the living area onto the balcony.

Her hair flew behind her as she skipped up and reached for the phone.

"It's Daddy?" she asked.

Jenny nodded. Natalie took the phone.

"But it's not my birthday," she said astutely.

"It doesn't have to be your birthday for him to talk to you," Jenny said gently.

Natalie put the phone to her ear.

"Hello, Daddy," she greeted politely.

A moment later, she burst into giggles.

"Maybe he looks like you, are you green and slimy and slithery?"

Jenny walked towards the balcony rail, looking down toe check on Emma – Emma seemed to have lost the gecko; she was frantically crawling around searching. Perhaps Natalie wouldn't be too disappointed, since she had the real deal – the real Jethro that is – for a momentary odd distraction.

Jenny already felt that dread in her chest, wary of what Natalie would want to talk about – she was shamefully glad that Michelle was going to pick Emma and Natalie up soon, because that might distract Natalie long enough that a painful little conversation wouldn't ensue.

The redhead pushed her hair back, chewing on her lip nervously. She licked her lips when she drew blood, and clenched her teeth to stop gnawing on herself – god, if she felt this way about him deploying, when they barely spoke and weren't even together, she couldn't imagine what life would be like if she were married, helpless at home, maybe working, while he did this –

-for a brief moment, the wild thought occurred to her that she should have just married him; he'd ended up in California, hadn't he? She could have stayed here, done the same college, just made it work somehow, her parents had done that, hadn't they - ?

No; no – she knew herself. It wouldn't have worked out this way; it just wouldn't have. It was a cruel twist of fate that he spent time in California, but if she'd stayed, if she'd married him just because that's what young, ruined girls did, her life would be different – it would have just –

"Mommy," Natalie said.

Jenny turned, and she was handing her the phone. Jenny put it to her ear, but Natalie rose on tiptoes and shook her head.

"No, he hung up," she said mildly. "He had to go. I heard boys yelling," she snickered.

Jenny put the phone aside and knelt down, putting her hands on Natalie's shoulders. She hesitated, and then pushed Natalie's hair back, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead.

"I love you," she said, probably startling the child.

Natalie nodded.

"I love you, too," she said obediently.

She twisted her fingers blithely in the dog tags around her neck.

"Is my last name the same as his?" she asked curiously, tilting her head.

Jenny blinked, a little taken aback. She nodded, licking her lips.

"Yes, it – "

"Why isn't my name like yours and Melly's?"

"Well, I never married your father," Jenny mumbled anxiously.

"But Grandpa and Melly are not married, and they're the same."

"Melly likes being a Shepard," Jenny said quietly. "I just chose to stay that way."

"I want to be a Shepard girl," Natalie said smugly, tossing her hair.

Jenny pushed her hair back and shook her head, leaning forward and touching her forehead to hers.

"No, you don't," she said softly.

Natalie crinkled her nose a little.

"Mommy?" she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Daddy sounded scared," Natalie said matter-of-factly – perceptively.

Jenny looked up, her face white. She licked her lips carefully, and pursed her lips, waving her hand as flippantly as she could manage.

"Nah, nonsense," she soothed lightly, keeping the tremble out of her voice. "Daddy's not – he's never been afraid of anything."

Natalie beamed, and Jenny gave her a quick hug, standing up. She took her hand, and turned her towards the door.

"Let's see if we can find that gecko," she encouraged quietly, going with her through the living room, down the stairs, to the courtyard –

-all the while thinking – she had always been the one who was afraid, who ran away, who was terrified of her mistakes and her future, of Gibbs and his calm acceptance, even – and now she was scared something was going to happen to him in Kuwait, and she'd blame herself for the rest of her life – not for his death, but for taking his daughter away from him.

---

Jenny sat cross-legged on a picnic blanket, a picturesque basket at her knee and Natalie darting around with some friends she'd made a little ways off. She didn't worry too much about her daughter; on a military base, with some many watchful moms and highly trained dads, she had little to fear.

"Thanks for doing this, Kate," Jenny said, nodding her head over at the stage, and the giant drive-in like screen set up on the expansive parade field.

"No problem at all!" Kate said, waving her hand. She sat forward, resplendent in civilian clothes, and swept her cap off her head, shaking her hair out. "I figured there's never a bad time for free entertainment – hell, I want to see the movie, anyway," she laughed. "Has she - ?"

"Oh, she loves it," Jenny said earnestly. "I took her to see it in the theatre – her first movie in the theatre, actually. She was so good – sat there silently with wide-eyes the whole time."

Kate laughed, drawing her knees up and glancing over at Natalie. She drew a beer out of her cooler and twisted the top off elegantly with her palm, tossing it aside.

Jenny leaned back on her hands.

It was Spring Break for California State – in a miraculous, almost unbelievable twist of fate, it was Spring Break for Daisy Road Elementary, too, and Kate Todd – the fast friend Jenny had made her first day of class – had invited her and Natalie to one of the family events on her Navy base.

It was a concert and a movie, basically; an Army tribute band had played, and now as the sun set, the Disney film The Little Mermaid was about to start playing – and it had been free, thanks to Kate's handy military identification.

"They do this kind of thing every once in a while – this is a big one, though," Kate said airily. "There are – six, no, ten? Ten guys home from Kuwait, so it's part of a welcome."

Jenny turned her head thoughtfully – Kuwait; everyone seemed to be coming home from Kuwait. The victory speeches from the triumphant president were fading, but the fires still seemed to be raging in the gulf, and Jenny had stopped watching the news for fear of assuming the worst.

As it were, she was in the dark about everything.

She looked away, over at Natalie again – she was playing ring-around-the-rosy with an officer's daughter – and the officer himself, Jenny noticed with a small laugh. Kate leaned forward, nudging her elbow.

"Want a beer?" she whispered. "The movie's over an hour. One won't hurt."

Jenny started to demure, and then she shrugged, and accepted one. One crisp Sam Adams wasn't going to hurt her, nor would it scar Natalie for life to see it. Particularly, Jenny thought dryly, since Natalie had seen Melanie come home raging drunk a week ago – not that it had been necessarily ugly; just goofy and slightly embarrassing.

Kate took another sip of hers, and cleared her throat. Before she could say anything, though, one of the senior officers took the stage and called for a moment of thanks for the returning veterans of Desert Storm and Desert Shield, which of course turned in to a standing ovation.

Natalie dashed to Jenny to see what to do, and Jenny placed her little hand over her heart and clapped along with everyone else, her eyes on the men who raised their hands in solemn salute.

Was Gibbs still in the desert? Had he come back yet? Would he come back?

She swallowed hard – she kept telling her self, since February, when they had started coming home, that no news was a good thing; she knew no chaplain would come to her with a flag, since she wasn't family, but she did feel fairly certain that if Jackson Gibbs himself didn't call her, at least Jasper would hear it through the grapevine and pass it on.

The silence, she thought, the lack of information, had to mean he was all right.

He could be a prisoner – but she didn't like that thought, either.

She sat down slowly, as the applause faded and the movie started up with loud music.

"Mommy, Mommy is it okay with I sit with Macy? She's over there," Natalie pointed, to the girl she'd been playing her games with. "Macy, and her sister Lucy?"

Jenny glanced over, and caught the other mother's eye. She nodded, and waved her hand, and Jenny gave Natalie the okay.

"Be quiet and respectful," she said.

Natalie lunged forward and kissed her cheek.

"Yes, Mommy," she murmured, scampering just a small ways off.

With a sigh, Jenny sat back, her light mood a little heavier. The beer was lukewarm in her hand, and despite the carefree nature of the movie, something about the welcome home made her feel better.

"Have you ever been deployed, Kate?" she asked curiously – she realized she didn't know.

"Yes," Kate said promptly. "Right after boot camp, and MOS training. I was on a carrier near the coast of Africa."

"Hmm," Jenny murmured, turning to look at her. "What was it like?"

Kate scrunched her nose.

"Salty," she said vaguely. She smiled apologetically. "It's all classified, Jenny," she warned.

"Ah."

Kate cleared her throat, reaching out and grasping Jenny's shirtsleeve loosely. She gave her a look, and tipped back her beer.

"Deployments," she said, lowering her voice. "Isn't," she nodded her head at Natalie, and omitted a few words as she went on: "in Kuwait?"

Jenny sighed, turning away from Natalie a little.

"I don't know," she said tiredly. "I haven't heard from him—that's where they sent him, though."

Kate knew quite a bit about Gibbs – at least, she knew the gist of the story, and occasionally Jenny had quiet talks with her about him. There was no one else she really could talk to, and Kate was her only close, best friend; she had acquaintances and social contacts, but her life seemed to be Natalie, school, Melanie, and work.

She swallowed hard, and picked at the label of her beer.

"I worry about him," she admitted quietly.

She sighed.

"He doesn't…have anyone," she said, flushing guiltily. "He hates his father, and his mother died soon after Natalie was born," she mumbled. "I have this nightmare that I'm standing on the porch of my old house in Pennsylvania, but it's looking over the Arabian Desert. And he's lying there, dead, with a flag flapping over him, but there's no one to fold it; and no one ever gets him and brings his body home. He just … is buried, forgotten."

Kate looked at her with large, solemn dark eyes.

"That's an awful dream," she said softly, her mouth turning down sympathetically.

Jenny hit her teeth together lightly.

"I don't know what I'd tell Natalie if something happened to him," she confessed dully. "I know she has – almost no relationship with him, but … he's her father," Jenny said. "And…she doesn't remember, and that's not her fault at all, but I think he used to be her favorite."

Jenny looked down at her lap and laughed sarcastically.

"Maybe that's part of why I stole her away."

Kate scooted closer, putting her hand on Jenny's shoulder.

"I don't know the whole story," she said with a shrug. She smiled wryly. "I think it's a damn sight more complicated than that."

Jenny shook her beer a little and winked stiffly.

"One day, I'll figure it out," she joked.

Kate sat back a little, and then sat forward.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Yes, Kate, God, I miss having a best friend," Jenny laughed – she felt a little wary of being questioned, but she also felt like talking.

Kate seemed to hesitate.

"Why didn't you just move in with your mother when he joined up?" she asked. "Not behind his back, but…well, with him all over the place, it didn't matter where you were, did it?"

Jenny gave her a grim look – slightly irritated, because she hated that question; because she'd asked herself that before.

"Everything fell apart so fast," she said heavily. "His mother – she was…kind of our saving grace. When she died…this whole world we had, it shattered around us. Suddenly being teenagers with a baby seemed a lot darker and nastier, with no one in our corner – our fathers – "

Jenny trailed off. She chewed on her lip a moment.

"Neither of us were ever with anyone else, not even casually," she said huskily, "and then we had a baby, and then he was joining the Marines and talking about marriage, and I was barely graduating high school – ah," she broke off, closing her eyes at the memory of harder, more suffocating times.

She sighed harshly.

"I think it was more than me wanting to get out of Stillwater. I was just…scared."

She couldn't put into words of what – she'd been scared of so much, really. That Gibbs was more like his father than he thought, that she'd get trapped, that she'd start to hate him – and ironically, her fear of letting her love turn to resentment had resulted in his bitter anger towards her, and the fracturing of everything they'd ever had.

She laughed quietly, turning to Kate.

"You know, I was thinking the other day, about him, and one thing I miss – I miss the sex," she confessed, her voice hushed.

Kate let out an amused snort, and then quieted herself.

"You know, that feeling, you're fine, you can live without it and then one day – " she whistled, and Kate gave her a wry look.

"Uh, no," she said bluntly. "I've never had sex."

Jenny pulled back warily, an anxious look on her face. She forgot, sometimes, that her life events hadn't exactly been the norm – Kate wasn't that old; they were the same age, in fact, and maybe if Jenny had been smarter, she'd be Kate.

"Easy," Kate laughed. "I'm not judging you – I'm very Catholic. Very hard to, uh, shake that…Catholic," she snorted. She shrugged. "I've never met anyone."

Jenny chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment, and then she cleared her throat.

"There's no way I can say this without sounding like I regret Natalie," she said in a low voice, "but I envy you."

Kate tilted her head.

"It was that bad?" she teased.

Jenny laughed hoarsely. She shook her head.

"It wasn't spectacular," she remembered fondly. "It got better," she added, nodding to herself. "The first time – it was New Year's Eve, and we were in this barn, kind of our place – it was so cold, I mean, there was snow on the ground, and it kind of numbed everything," she laughed, her voice catching. "He picked all the hay out of my hair later," she murmured.

She took a swig of her beer, and watched the movie for a moment.

"Jesus," she said to herself. "I was way too young to be having sex."

She closed her eyes.

"I dread this conversation with Natalie," she said hollowly. "This, and talking about her father – one day, I'm going to try to tell her to never get pregnant as a teenager, and she's going to think I hate her – or think it's okay, because I'm going to give her a good life –"

"Jenny?" Kate interrupted. "Natalie's very smart. She's six, and everyone can tell how bright she is," she said softly. She shook her head. "I think she'll be able to grasp the difference between regret, and wishing you had been more prepared."

"That's it, that's it!" Jenny said hoarsely. "I look at her and I think, God, do you know how much more I could have given you if I'd been older? How much better I'd be at this?"

The redhead shook her head wildly.

"I – we – thought we were so mature. We got the condoms. We snuck out. It was senseless. Taking risks like that – "

"But," Kate intervened. "You said it, you used protection. You were smart – "

"Not smart enough."

"Jenny," Kate said, exasperated. "It's not like you were the town bicycle, you just told me it was him and only him, always. I don't think sex is so wrong in that situation – "

"We were children," Jenny said tiredly. "Look, Kate – I'm not saying I'm going to hell, or that I'm a sinner," she hesitated, "but considering how few options we had, and how unreliable condoms notoriously are, it was blatantly irresponsible for us to – if you're too young to handle the consequences, you shouldn't be – "

Jenny frowned, breaking off. She'd berated herself for this so many times; they just should have waited.

"I should have just given him the blow job."

Kate nearly spit out her beer, covering her mouth with a loud slap. She turned wide eyes to Jenny, and her brow furrowed.

"What does that have to do with it?"

Jenny looked at her very seriously.

"That's why this happened."

"I don't follow."

"We started having sex because I thought blowjobs sounded gross."

Kate's mouth fell open. Jenny nodded, and pointed at her gaping throat.

"See, all I had to do was that, and snap! No baby."

Kate gave into a quiet peal of giggles, and Jenny turned, bursting into a grin herself. She laughed, and tucked her hair back.

"But," she said, half to herself. "I do love that baby."

"Of course you do," Kate said. She shrugged. "Teenagers shouldn't have babies, Jenny, we all know that. I'm twenty-two, and I still do stupid things on a whim – three years ago I was taking my shirt off for drinks in Panama City," she laughed.

"You know," Kate went on, "you're doing a really impressive job, for someone who's young enough to put go-go boots on a six-year-old."

"She looked so cute in those!"

Kate fell back on the blanket, laughing, and Jenny kicked her in the ankle, falling back next to her.

"You don't think a grown-up Mom would do go-go boots?" she challenged.

Kate snickered.

"My mom would have set herself on fire first!"

The girls set to quietly laughing again, and when it died down, Kate turned her head.

"You regret having sex with him?" she asked.

Jenny hesitated – that's the thing; she didn't. She regretted getting pregnant, but she loved and wanted Natalie. She struggled to cope with some of the things she'd had to let go of and go through, but living without Natalie was incomprehensible to her now, and when it came to Gibbs –

"No," she said, very quietly. "Mm, I really did love him, Kate. Even when the sex was bad, it was good because I loved him."

"You still love him?" Kate asked.

Jenny shrugged helplessly, and looked up at the stars.

"I had his baby," she said simply. "I won't ever not love him."

She blinked at the moon, and wondered if he was in some desert, seeing the same one; she wondered if he was alone in some hospital, or forced back to Stillwater – or was he on some sunny beach on leave, enjoying a U.S. victory, drinking away the witch who'd taken his child and broken the idyllic life he thought he could construct for them.

Her throat felt tight, and she closed her eyes, trying not to worry, trying not to stress.

"Mommy."

It was a soft whisper in her ear, Natalie crawling up beside her.

"Macy and Lucy fell asleep," the little girl whispered, snuggling up against Jenny.

She sat up, while Jenny lay on her back, and she slipped her hand into Jenny's hunkering down to watch the movie. Jenny sat up and pulled her close, kissing her protectively and lovingly. Natalie grinned and sprawled over her lap.

"Natalie," Jenny said softly and gently, reaching for the chain around her daughter's throat. "Get those out of your mouth," she said, taking the dog tags gently from between Natalie's teeth.

The cold metal stung her skin, and she compressed her lips; these little things had teeth marks, worry marks; they were scuffed, and the chain was a little rusted. Jenny looked down at Natalie – she always had these in her mouth, always had them around her neck – yes, Jenny had put them there, but it struck her as odd that Natalie, despite deciding never to take them off, never asked about them; she didn't brood, she didn't demand, didn't investigate curiously; they just rested at her heart, day in and day out.

Jenny wondered, desperately, what was going on in that bright, smart little head; in the secret corners of her mind, what did Natalie think about her father, her mother? What did she think had happened – did she long for him, or had she let herself forget, be blissfully unaware?

Jenny swallowed, and looked up to watch the movie, pressing her beer against her chest, holding it there with white knuckles. She wondered if she'd hear from him, or if she'd have to swallow her pride and call Stillwater, just to hear out loud, from somewhat, of what had happened to him in Kuwait. She felt the slow rise-and-fall of Natalie's breathing under her arm as it rested over the little girl, and she wondered if the ties were finally broken, if Gibbs, in the face of whatever had happened with his deployment – if he had made it – had finally given up on her, and her mad, indecisive humors.

---

"Well my heart, it don't beat, it don't beat the way it used to
and my eyes, they don't see you no more."
The Killers; For Reasons Unknown

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-alexandra