Chapter Two:

The Beginning (pt 2)

"Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go;
be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you want to do."

Author Unknown

Alice smiled quietly to herself as her unexpected dinner guest rolled up his shirt sleeves and started loading up the dishwasher—after having asked Steven to 'show him the ropes' (Steven was more than happy to oblige.) Jethro had insisted that since she'd cooked, he would clean up; he'd suggested (hinted… barely hinted, really… it was probably just his way of talking) that next time he'd cook and she could handle KP duty. Alice didn't even know why she felt warm inside at the prospect of there being 'next time'; not four hours ago, she'd been seriously debating whether or not she even wanted to open up the door for Leroy Jethro Gibbs for fear he was there on an errand from her dad.

But after those first few moments her father hadn't come up in conversation again, at least not unless she was the one bringing him up. She'd found herself drifting back to the subject of the invincible, immortal, dashing hero of Captain Jack Harkness more than she'd have liked—at least until Steven got home from school. Before that… she hated to admit it, but Gibbs was easy to talk to. He didn't judge her or look askance at her when she admitted that there were times when she hated her father. Times she loved him. She'd found herself telling a near-complete stranger much more than she'd intended…

"He never had a harsh word to say about my mum, not even after she tossed him out. Not that I knew she'd tossed him out. She never told me what happened between them. One day he just… he didn't come home one night. They were both still working for Torchwood back then. I remember Mum was…" she had hesitated, not knowing how to explain the state her mother had been in that night. She knew she'd been crying, but...but there was more to it, she was sure there was. "I knew something bad had happened, but she refused to talk about it. She said I was too little to understand and I should just go to bed. The next day Dad came home and… and he told me good-bye. I didn't exactly know it was good-bye at the time, but… but that was the last time I saw him until I was a teenager. Mum wouldn't say why he'd left us. I remember telling her I hated her a few times over it… I cried all that Christmas… Dad always made such a fuss over Christmas, it was my favourite time of year until… well..." she shrugged, embarrassed. She was misty eyed. But Jethro didn't look at her like she was some being some silly, sentimental old thing. He laid a hand on her arm and let her continue on in her own time, seemingly willing to listen to whatever she had to say.

"Eventually I stopped asking Mum what happened. I remember being sure he still loved us… it was all very confusing," she'd admitted. "All of my friends with divorced parents still saw their fathers—well, nearly all of them. You know, there were a few who didn't, but… but I was sure he still loved us. I don't even know why. Isn't that silly…?" her laugh had been nervous; she didn't usually prattle on.

However, "no," was all Gibbs had to say about whether or not it was silly to be so convinced that her dad hadn't stopped loving her. "Did you ever find out why he left?" he asked then.

She didn't have an answer for that. Her mum had always been obstinately mute on the subject; she'd never asked her father. She was sure he'd just sugar coat it. She knew well enough now that that's what he'd always done where her mum was concerned.

Jethro rolled his sleeves back down and reached for his jacket. "I should go," he said to her inquisitive look.

"Do you have to?" Steven wanted to know.

He glanced down at the youngster, "I thought you said you had homework left to finish?"

The boy sighed; apparently he'd hoped the adults would forget about the big book report that was due tomorrow. "When are you coming back?" he wanted to know.

"Steven…" Alice began. The last thing she wanted was for her son to impose on the American; although they hadn't really talked about it, she couldn't imagine he had plans to stay in the UK long term.

"He said he'd teach me to play American football!" her son reminded her—he was correct, of course. Over dinner the subject of sports had come up and Steven had asked if their guest played football. He'd said he had, but it quickly became apparent that they were talking about two entirely different sports and the arrangement was made that Steven would happily teach Mr Gibbs 'proper' football if the other would teach him the American sport of the same name.

"So I did," Jethro replied to the boy's outburst. His tone and manner remained easy.

"I'm sure Mr Gibbs is heading home to the States soon," Alice told her son, casting an apologetic glance in their visitor's direction. "I'm sure he doesn't have time...?" she hadn't intended to make it a question. When Jethro said he'd teach her son about American football, she'd really thought he was doing it to be nice. Surely he didn't actually mean to follow through...

In response to her unintended question, however, Gibbs merely gave over a shrug before turning to Steven. "I'll tell you what, if it's ok with your Mom—and if I can find a real football," he added with a wry grin, "maybe I can come back on Saturday."

Alice blinked at him.

"A Marine never goes back on his word," he told her, no doubt having noticed her startled expression.

"Please, Mum…?" Steven begged.

"Well… I suppose… but… are you sure?"

"Like I said," Gibbs told her again. A Marine never went back on his word…

"All right. I'll walk you to the door," she offered—before taking his leave, Jethro extended his hand to her son and told him he'd see him on Saturday. Alice was sure it had been a long time since she'd seen Steven smile quite like that.

"Thank you," she said quietly, stepping out onto the front porch with her guest. "His father… he hasn't exactly been much a part of our lives since he left and my Dad… well… I know he'd like to be around more… but… it's hard."

Gibbs didn't answer, he just dug his car keys out of his coat pocket.

"Please don't think less of me for that," Alice found herself begging. She didn't even know why she cared what he thought.

"I can't imagine what it's like having a father whose immoral, who can't die," he said the words so much more easily than she ever had been able to, "or who never seems to get any older. But I do know what it's like to lose a child," he admitted. His tone was… sad. Immeasurably sad.

"You have children?"

"Had."

"I'm sorry," said Alice. His tone made it painfully clear that his children were dead.

"It was a long time ago."

"But you're not over it, are you?"

"I'm not sure anybody ever gets over something like that."

Alice nodded. She thought again That Week, the 456, everything they had almost all lost. Everything she could have lost if her father hadn't found another way... if he hadn't insisted that there had to be another way. She shuddered at the memory of that horrible man, Dekker... it was like he'd wanted to sacrifice Steven, just to see what would happen. "May… can I ask what happened?" she said at last to the man standing in front of her.

Gibbs shrugged. Hesitated. Then, finally: "My daughter and her mother were murdered. Kelly was about Steven's age." His tone gave Alice the impression it wasn't something he was comfortable talking about.

"I'm sorry," she repeated her earlier sentiment, not knowing what else to say. He was doing a good job of keeping a straight face, an even tone, but she could see the depth of pain in his eyes… it was the same pain she saw in her father's eyes sometimes. It made her wonder how much hurt it him every time he left her house. He never knew when…if…she would let him come back… was she really being that cruel? That unfair? Am I doing the same thing Mum did? Did her father really deserve it? She knew he was right, Steven was too young to notice his apparent agelessness, but someday he would, someday she'd have to explain… but in the meantime was it really right to keep them apart. She knew how much Steven loved his 'uncle' Jack. "I… I don't know what to say," she confessed, as much about her own thoughts as anything else.

"Nothing to say."

She offered up a tight lipped smile. "I… I suppose I'll see you on Saturday."

He nodded, "I suppose you will."

"Well… good night."

He nodded, said good night and walked towards the curb… a moment later he drove off, leaving Alice standing on the porch alone with the night sky.