A/N: I introduce Anthony DiNozzo in this chapter and mention Abby Sciuto. They are included in the story marginally and f or comic relief, so that time-line is a bit skewed. Tony iss particularly green at NCIS and Abby is still, as always, the darling.
Question: Do any of you realize how hard it is to type with a fucked up 's' key on the keyboard? *grumbles*.
Sunday December 5th 1993. Apartment of Pizzeria Delivery Boy Logan Grey. 9:16 am.
"Son of a bitch!"
Jenny Shepard crumpled the search warrant in her hand violently and chucked it across Logan Grey's apartment, turning and ramming her fist into the wall and letting her frustration boil over at finding the place empty.
She holstered her weapon.
Yesterday, when she and Munch had returned to the pizzeria to question Logan Grey, the delivery boy who Maddie had mentioned, again he'd been gone. The manager had declared he up and left moments after the police did, which was enough of a sign for Jenny and for a judge, as it turned out.
Alex had secured a warrant for his apartment after they got the address from the pizzeria manager. They had spent the night questioning his colleagues, trying to find friends and family, and building a profile of his past, which seemed oddly clean and boring. They were pushing hard on the case while it was hot and they had a chance of closing it.
And now, she thought, he might get away and she was pissed.
"Detective," called one of her back-up, appearing from a separate room.
Jenny marched up to him and he held out something to her. She turned up her palm and into it he dropped a butterfly barrette, matching the one that CSU had found strewn on the pavement near the initial crime scene.
Jenny clutched it in her palm, gritting her teeth. It was noon. She had sent copies of findings to NCIS last night and had spoken to a member of Jethro's team, Mike Franks. Cautiously, she had told him where their leads were going. NCIS, according to Franks, had immediately put out something called a 'bolo' to alert the surrounding area.
They had called credit companies and frozen accounts in the name of the guy.
She had called Jethro to ask if Kelly could be counted on to indentify a voice if they caught Logan Grey, and Jethro, after agreeing, had grilled her on the details, his voice even through the phone raw and angry and frightening.
Now she'd have to make the call that they couldn't find him.
Sunday December 5th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 2:25 pm.
"Breathe, Shepard," Fin ordered, walking by her desk and dropping a late lunch on it.
She growled at him in response, attempting to rip out her hair.
Her phone was dead silent. Logan Grey's picture was plastered all over the city, on the news, everyone was on alert, NCIS had bolos out—which stood for 'be on the lookout, she'd been informed— and nothing. How could a dirty, burly uneducated delivery boy hide from them like this?
"He had such a soft, crawly voice," Jenny muttered. "It should have tipped me off."
"Oh, god, quit being a martyr," groaned Munch. "This isn't your fault."
She slammed her palm down on her desk. The phone in front of her rang.
"Shepard!" she barked into it when she answered.
"Detective Shepard, this is dispatch 901—Logan Grey spotted en route to College Park, Maryland blue metro line--"
Jenny slammed the phone down before she could hear the rest and jammed her gun into the holster, whipping her cell phone out of her pocket.
"Munch, Fin," she barked, jerking her head towards the elevator. "Maryland dispatch might have him," she growled, slamming her finger against the elevator down button and pressing harshly the numbers on her cell phone.
"Franks," the voice answered gruffly, moments later.
She repeated to him what she'd just been told. She thought NCIS had a right to be there on this collar.
Sunday December 5th 1993. College Park, Maryland Metro Station. 2:56 pm.
Jenny wasn't sure if NCIS had faster cars or crazier drivers, but they arrived at the Maryland metro center before she and her people did, and neither group was making small business of flashing lights and sirens.
"You sure your Intel's right, lady?" asked a scraggly, gruff looking man as he stormed up to Jenny. She gave him a withering look.
"Maryland PD's Intel, not mine," she snapped back, resting her hand on her weapon. "Though I'd rather take a look myself than waste time, hmm?"
He eyed her suspiciously.
"Franks," shouted Jethro, and Jenny looked over, thinking she saw him roll his eyes a little. Munch and Fin were slamming patrol car doors as they got out and joined the two NCIS agents and their fellow detective.
"You shouldn't have called them, Jenny," said Munch harshly.
"The hell she shouldn't have!" the man who must be Mike Franks bellowed back.
Munch bristled instantly and Fin, rolling his eyes at the drama, prepared to placate. Jenny tightened her mouth at the immaturity of jurisdiction.
"This isn't the time for a pissing match," she growled, almost under her breath, and slipped away, her badge ready in her hand to flash at the metro station's metal detectors. She saw Jethro follow her lead out of the corner of her eye.
"How's your little girl?" Jenny asked.
"Tired," he answered curtly, implying she wasn't sleeping at all.
Jenny bit the inside of her cheek hard and narrowed her eyes, pushing up sunglasses as she entered the metro building.
"Blue line," she said under her breath, gesturing.
Just inside the metal detectors and ticket machines, one of the directors in a day-glo orange vest, spotted Frank's zipped up, NCIS windbreaker and waved them over subtly.
"My supervisor called it into dispatch, but we didn't alert him. He's on his way to platform nine, but he's weaving around—"
Jenny nodded, moving away. She heard Franks repeating to Jethro what had been said, and gave a silent order to Fin and Munch to split up in an opposite direction. She pointed at Jethro and jerked her thumb towards herself, indicating he stay with her. There was no way she'd let him off alone and be responsible for a bloodbath if he found Grey first.
He fell into step next to her, and she could feel the anger and the hatred emanating from him, cold and foreboding. She swallowed hard, even more motivated to lock this bastard behind bars with Jethro there next to her as a living reminder of the hurt he'd wrought.
She watched the trains arrive methodically, her eyes on the exits and the mass of people crowding the platform. Until a swift, jerky, deer-in-the-headlights movement caught her peripheral vision and she turned. She saw him. Looking at her, because he recognized her. And for a split second she let him look at her, letting him read his fate in her hard, condemning eyes.
Then her gun was in her hands.
"GREY!" she bellowed. "STOP, POLICE."
Jethro didn't even bother to announce himself. He went after the guy, which was all as well, because as soon as Jenny had shouted, Logan Grey had tried to make a run for it. Jenny took off after both of them, determined to stop Jethro doing anything rash that would take him away from his girls.
"Out of the way, move!" she shouted to the unaware, milling occupants of the metro station.
They murmured and cried out in surprise as she and Jethro barreled through, and suddenly, Logan Grey had led them into a corridor with two flights of stairs. He paused in the middle. Jethro raised his gun and Jenny winced, recognizing the aim of a man with deadly precision.
But Logan Grey jerked to the side at the sight of the weapon.
"Don't move," Jethro growled.
Logan Grey lurched forward, and Jenny leapt at him, holstering her weapon and skipping down a few steps to grab him by the hands and the scruff of the neck. He kicked out at her knee and caught her in the ankle, knocking her feet from her.
"Bitch!" he shouted, leaning down to bite her. He kicked again, but she refused to let go, tightening her grip on his neck and yanking his hand behind his back. She stumbled.
Jenny lost her balance, but managed not to completely fall down the stairs. It was more of a trip, but she fell hard once they reached the landing, and then swung her body around and shoved Logan Grey's face into the concrete, her knee digging into his spine.
She tasted blood in her mouth, and wiped the coppery red gush from her busted lip with the back of her hand, pursing her lips.
Then, in a moment that happened too fast and too slow at the same time, Grey lashed out with his foot and kicked her hard in the thigh and almost bucked her off of him. Jenny cursed loudly and the next thing she knew, Jethro had his gun pressed hard into Grey's temple, and his hand was not the slightest bit hesitant on the trigger. She snapped her eyes on him.
"Don't you dare, he's down," she barked, shoving his hand away, desperate to prevent him pulling that trigger and ruining the chances of a clean case.
She focused all of her attention on Grey.
"You're under arrest," she snarled, yanking cuffs from her pocket and forcing them onto him violently. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and you bet your ass will be used against you in a court of law…"
Sunday December 5th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 3:23 pm.
Logan Grey was cuffed to his chair in interrogation.
Jenny stood staring through the glass. Alex Cabot was next to her, and Mike Franks was on her other side. Jethro was in the room somewhere. Her eyes were glass as she stared ahead. Her knees and her head throbbed from the scuffle he'd caused. She hadn't yet wiped the blood from her lip.
"He doesn't deserve a lawyer," she said in a low voice.
"We have to wait," Alex said.
Jenny swore under her breath.
He sat there, staring. Looking blank. He was a big guy, with awful teeth, badly dressed, bad hair, and he did have that soft, oily voice—but it didn't seem to fit him. Jenny clenched her fists.
She turned away. Her eyes met Jethro's. He was far away from the glass, at the opposite wall, restrained.
"I told you it wasn't a matter of 'if'," she growled.
He looked at her sharply.
He moved closer, and lowered his voice, keeping it hidden from the others.
"I told you I wanted him dead," he hissed. "He hit you. He resisted arrest. He gave me a reason. You stopped me," he growled.
Jenny swallowed. She had. She had wrenched his gun away from him when he'd pressed it to Logab Grey's temple, and then the others had come running. It was too sketchy, too circumstantial. It would have jeopardized everything.
"Because Kelly needs you," she answered hoarsely. "Elizabeth needs you."
"Cabot," Cragen opened the door and let in a short, curly haired woman who somewhat resembled a dragon. "Defense is here."
"Good," Alex said tightly. She pointed through the glass. "There's your rapist. Ready to swab him?"
"We'll see about this alleged rape," the defense attorney sneered, and Jenny pressed her hand to Jethro's chest as he jumped forward. Alex nodded to Jenny and the three of them went in, Jenny pulling her DNA swap from her pocket and tipping the q-tip from its glass tube.
"Open wide," she snarled; grabbing Grey's cheeks and force them open.
She jammed the swab into his mouth and he coughed. His representation made a noise of protest, but Jenny just shoved his face away from her with disgust. She left as quickly as she'd come, leaving Alex to her work, and exited with the forensics, holding up to both Mike Franks and Jethro.
"That satisfy you, probie?" growled the older man, narrowing his beady eyes.
Jethro threw a disgusted look at Franks. He turned to watch the legal proceedings. Jenny left the room with the swab held aloft; she put a rush on it in forensics and slipped away, pulling out her cell phone to make a call.
Sunday December 5th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 4:30 pm.
Kelly Gibbs was cuddling into Jethro's side, playing with the frayed edges of his navy pea coat as she stood in the room with Alex Cabot, Jenny, Grey's defense, and Captain Cragen. Her eyes were downcast and she looked scared. She looked as tired as Jethro had said she was earlier today.
Forty-eight hours, literally, and they had him. She felt a triumphant pleasure that couldn't quite overcome by the sorrow she felt for this motherless little girl next to her, clinging to her father.
Jenny crouched next to Kelly.
"The men inside that room can't see you, but you can see them. It's a special mirror to make them feel scared of you, because you get to tell us who was the one who hurt you, okay Kelly?"
She nodded. She pulled away from Jethro a little.
"He's in there?" she asked.
Jenny tilted her head.
"Maybe. If you say he is, we'll believe you, but if you don't recognize a voice, just tell us, okay?"
Kelly nodded.
"Do you remember how you told me you could remember his voice? Kelly, each person is going to say something, and I need you to tell me if any of the voices match the man who attacked you."
"I don't want to hear him talk," she said.
"I know," Jenny said softly, reaching out and touching her cheek. Jethro looked down warningly. "I think you can do it though. You're brave enough. And when you help us put him away, you won't be scared anymore, and he won't ever hurt you or any other little girl."
"Has he hurt other girls?" she asked suddenly.
Jenny glanced up at Jethro. He shook his head a little negatively.
"We don't know, Kelly. I'm more concerned about what he did to you, okay?"
Kelly looked at her and then nodded slowly, turning towards the window. She looked up at Jethro and then at Jenny and came forward a little.
"I can do it," she said shakily. She turned and looked at Jenny. "Will you hold my hand again?" she ventured uncertainly.
Jenny gave her an apologetic smile and bit her lip, shaking her head a little.
"I can't, Kelly. The defense might say I gave yo ua signal to tell you what to say if I do," she told her honestly. Kelly swallowed and reached for Jethro's hand, gripping it tightly. The defense watched Jenny sharply, but defiantly Jenny moved closer to Kelly, folding her arms pointedly and standing directly behind the girl. That was the best she could do.
Jenny nodded to Cragen and he pressed the intercom.
"Send 'em in," he said.
Five men marched silently into the room. Kelly backed up a little, inching closer to her father.
"Each one of you will say the phrase 'You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing' with no inflection, starting with number one." Cragen ordered grimly.
After a moment, number one spoke.
"You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing."
Kelly didn't react.
Number two: "You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing."
Again, Kelly remained still. A good sign, considering number two was Detective Stabler.
Number three: "You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing."
This one's voice was soft and feminine, but Kelly simply shifted her feet and looked up at Jenny, her eyes bright and uncertain. She dipped her head back down and leaned back, her head brushing Jenny's waist. Jethro reached down and placed his hand in her hair.
Number four: "You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing."
"It was him. He did it," Kelly whimpered immediately, and turned around and buried her face in Jenny's hip. Jenny wrapped her arms around her soothingly. Kelly started to cry, shaking her head.
"She hasn't heard all of them," said the defense attorney in a dead voice.
"Clearly, she recognized her rapist," Alex reprimanded sharply.
"And yet I'll file to have it thrown out in court," snapped the defense cruelly. "She has to hear all of them."
Kelly looked up suddenly, glaring through her tears at the defense attorney.
"I know who raped me!" she yelled. "It was him."
"What the hell—" snarled Jethro, taking up for his daughter immediately.
"Agent Gibbs," Alex tried to placate.
"Don't make her do this," Jethro said directly to Jenny.
"You will not be allowed to break procedure because of a few tears," the attorney said nastily.
"Honey," Jenny said, ignoring Jethro and the attorney. "You have to listen to one more. Just one more, I promise, and then it's over."
Kelly sniffled
"Jen," Jethro said sharply, and she looked at him with raised eyebrows, caught off guard by the nickname. He looked like he didn't notice he'd said it.
"She can do it. Encourage her," she ordered, narrowing her eyes. Kelly needed to hear it from him. He set his jaw and leaned down to Kelly, stroking her hair. He whispered something in her ear and she looked up, listening, and then turned towards the window again.
Slowly, she nodded.
"Okay," she said.
Jethro straightened up, but the look on his face was anything but even cordial.
Number five, having been put on hold, said in the same monotone as the others: "You'll like it if you shut-up, sweet thing."
Jenny looked down at Kelly.
"It was four," she said again. "It was, I know it. He hurt me," she said firmly, her entire body shaking.
"Where do you recognize number four from, Kelly?" Alex asked pointedly, glaring at the defense attorney as she carefully followed procedure.
"The alley where he raped me," she answered shakily.
Jenny hugged her and shot a fierce glare at the defense attorney. Alex, too, turned her glare on the other woman.
"That only enforces the DNA match," she said confidently, while Jenny slowly crouched down to Kelly's level.
"What are you offering?" the defense attorney finally asked tightly.
"I'm offering to let you pick the court date," snapped Alex, true to her word. "No deal," she said, wrenching open the door. She left arguing with the defense attorney, and Jenny was left alone with Jethro and Kelly and an out of place Cragen.
"File out, men," Cragen ordered, as Jenny reached for Kelly's hair and brushed it from her face.
"Kelly, you did it. We're going to put him in hail, honey, because you were able to help," she soothed.
Kelly swallowed and looked at Jenny with her big blue eyes, her eyes red and sleepy and her cheeks pale and wet with tears.
Cragen gave her a look over Kelly's head and she nodded minutely; he left and she turned to Kelly earnestly.
"Kelly, let's go into the bean bag room again, there's a few more things we need to talk about," she started.
"No," Jethro put his foot down, stepping in. He picked Kelly up in one fell swoop and hugged her, his hand on her back firmly. His voice was raw and hoarse. "Enough. She's been through enough. Back off, detective," he snarled.
Jenny's eyes flashed.
"It is helping her more than you think to face it, Jethro," she said tightly.
"Say that again after you've spent two nights trying to get her to sleep," he barked right back.
"Jethro, I know it's hard and I know you don't want to see her in pain, but I'm trying to help her! This is my job, and I understand—"
"I'm not sure you do, detective!" he growled. "What the hell do you know?"
"A damn sight more than you!" she fired back suddenly, her mouth tightening. "Contrary to your beliefs, Agent Gibbs, I am trying to help her and I do understand. I understand she's hurt. I understand more than you ever will," she barked pointedly, glaring him straight in the eyes to convey the depth of her meeting.
He narrowed his eyes at her but shut his trap, backing off himself suddenly. She had no idea why she'd told him that; she wasn't sure if he caught the meaning behind her words.
Kelly turned around, her eyes wide and her mouth trembling.
"Stop it," she whimpered. "Jenny is a good guy. She's an investigator like you, Daddy," Kelly mumbled earnestly. Jenny's eyes burned suddenly. She nodded to Kelly. Jethro grasped her auburn hair in his hand and suddenly crushed her to him, pressing his lips to the side of her head and closing his eyes. "I want to go home, Daddy," Kelly moaned, laying her head back down. "I feel sick."
"Can we go, Detective?" Jethro asked quietly and hoarsely, looking at her imploringly.
Jenny swallowed hard, emotionally wiped by what had just happened, even if she wasn't quite sure what it was.
She turned to a table in the room and pulled her customary pen from behind her ear and a card from her pocket with her numbers. She flipped it over and scrawled her personal number on the back.
She reached for Kelly and pressed it into the girl's palm.
"Kelly," she said softly. "If you want to talk, you call me. I don't care if it's three in the morning, okay? I'll come talk," she said sincerely.
Kelly blinked at her, and she nodded slowly. She clutched the business card and shifted her chin.
"Orchids are my favorite flower," she said softly, nodding to Jenny's necklace.
Jenny reached up and touched it.
Jethro left the room quickly, still carrying Kelly.
Jenny collapsed in the nearest chair and put her head on her hands, swallowing a bad taste in her mouth and biting her lip until she tasted blood to hold back a flood of tears. And that was where Munch stumbled on her an hour later.
Sunday December 5th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. Squadroom loft. 5:32 pm.
Jenny smirked warily at Dr. George Huang as she looked into a Styrofoam cup of coffee. They sat at a metal table on the second floor of the squad room.
"John seems to think you identify with the girl," Dr. Huang mentioned.
"John also thinks Big Brother is sifting through his garbage," she said wryly. George smiled, and so did she. She took a sip of her coffee. "It's just a hard case, George," she muttered.
"Is it?" he asked, always the psychologist. "It's open-shut. All that's left is the trial, which is by no means easy for the victims. Yet it isn't as if Kelly was tortured, or maimed—molested by a family member, or worse, or kidnapped and raped by someone we can't catch. What is it that's making it hard? Is it that you identify with Kelly?" he probed.
Jenny shook her head absurdly, falling silent, biting the edge of her Styrofoam cup. John, gruffly caring about her as he was, had dried her tears and forced her down in front of Dr. Huang immediately. He tended to freak out when he saw an errant tear on his stoic partner's face.
"It isn't," she said firmly. "Kelly's happy. She's bright. She's nothing like I was at that age."
"She's lost her mother."
"So? I lost both my parents," Jenny shrugged. She didn't think that was it.
"Then what is it about this little girl that's bothering you, Jen?" Dr. Huang asked, one of the few people to ever shorten her name. She blinked; briefly reminded that Jethro had called her that in his distress earlier.
"There are other DNA matches to Grey's DNA. A dead little girl. A Juvy case we might get to crack. It isn't simple," she murmured suddenly, to herself. They had much more to look into to prepare for indictment…she shook her head and went back to Huang's question, answering simply:
"I like her."
"You love kids," George said airily.
She smiled, and inclined her head, relenting. She did. She adored them. And she was furious when anyone laid a slightly harmful hand on them. She leaned back, pulling her leg up in the chair with her and took another absentminded sip, pursing her lips.
"It's her father," she said suddenly, saying it matter-of-factly.
"You don't trust him?"
"The opposite," she said, looking at George intently. "I've never seen a man who loves his daughter so much. It's written in his eyes, and there's so much pain there too. It's that she has someone there who's going to save her from this, but he's not sure he can do it," she explained.
"Hmmm," George murmured.
"You can tell me I'm crazy, George," Jenny said with a smile. He laughed and shook his head.
"I think you indentify with Kelly Gibbs because she has something you didn't, and you want to see her get it," he said thoughtfully.
"Okay," she said levelly. "I can deal with that," she added, and then smirked a wry smirk again; "At least you're not telling me I just want to fuck her father. Which was Munch's instant diagnosis."
Dr. Huang rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Jenny smiled.
"It's not fair," she sighed again, shrugging her shoulders and drinking the rest of her coffee.
Her face was washed of the make-up she'd ruined crying. She felt fresher, but she felt vulnerable too, without her mask on. It had broken her heart to watch Kelly cry in fear when she heard Logan Grey's voice, and it had taken all her self-restraint to stop Jethro from shooting him in the metro station. She disliked that Munch had found her in tears, but it couldn't be helped, and he'd seen her that way before.
"It never is really fair," George said unhelpfully.
"Yeah but if you knew," she murmured, shaking her head. "I got his personnel file from his boss, that Mike Franks character—who, by the way, seriously dislikes women with authority," she added, and George smiled, only able to imagine how that had gone over.
She fell silent for a moment.
"Her mother didn't just die," she said slowly. "She was murdered. Shot in the head by a Mexican drug lord after she witnessed a murder. The wound didn't kill her, but a violent car crash resulted and they couldn't save her at the hospital. The baby was in the back seat, Kelly was at piano lessons. Car seat protected the infant," she explained, remembering what she'd read in all of the files. "And all of this while Jethro was fighting in Desert Storm."
George looked at her, shaking his head, his eyes full of sadness.
"You see what I mean, George? It isn't fair. A murder and a rape in one family—and never a bad thing said about any of them. And upstanding marine with a pretty wife and beautiful kids," she shook her head. "Not fair."
"No," he agreed. "But how is it any less fair than a little girl whose parents died in a car accident being beaten around by numerous foster parents for twelve years?"
Jenny looked at him impassively and looked into her empty cup.
She shrugged.
"It isn't fair because somebody loves her," she said simply.
Sunday December 5th 1993. Washington DC 14th Precinct; SVU. 10:45 pm.
Jenny clicked her pen in and out methodically, staring thoughtfully ahead of her. She watched Cragen's bent head as he went over piles of cases in his office. She listened to the loud tick of the clock and the rustle of Benson's papers across the aisle.
She heard the quick click of Alex's borrowed heels. She looked up.
"Grey's attorney is pissed," the blonde announced, perching on the edge of Jenny's desk primly and checking the area for men. Benson sat back in her chair, stretching and looking over with interest. Alex lifted one leg onto her knee and slipped off one of Jenny's shoes.
"She doesn't like losing?" asked Jenny airily.
Alex snorted, placing the shoe gratefully on Jenny's desk.
"Nah, she doesn't get why I won't deal. She doesn't see why the state would waste money when she'll settle, what with the evidence."
"That's it though," Olivia said, standing up and moving over to them. "Why would we settle? We've got enough to lock him up for a lifetime, even without Kelly's testimony. And if we get her to testify, it's a slam-dunk case. One less sick bastard prowling the streets."
Alex nodded.
"His defense hinted she'd stir up some cockamamie psych defense if I proceeded, claiming the "sloppiness" of his crime demonstrated emotional instability, but it won't fly. Not if I put that little girl on the stand and get Maddie Tyler to tell about the looks he gave her, that pretty much proves premeditation," Alex said thoughtfully. "I'm pushing Judge Petrovsky to open his juvenile file anyway, and I've already contacted Virginia SVU to fax us the cold case with his DNA attached. No way we're settling."
She placed the twin to Jenny's shoe on the desk and then crossed her legs, chewing her lip.
"You know, we should get Maddie Tyler in here to identify his voice with the retainer, that could cement some discrepancies they might bring out," she murmured.
She nodded to herself affirmatively.
"You're quiet, Jenny," Olivia remarked.
Alex snorted.
"She's got a point, loud-mouth," she teased.
Jenny looked at them and smiled absently.
"Sorry," she murmured, rubbing her lips gently with her fingers. She squinted her eyes a little.
"What's irking you about the case?" Olivia asked sincerely, lowering her voice.
"You still thinking about that girl, Jen?" Munch asked, charging through the squad room with his hands in his pockets and his hat on his head, ready to head out for the night. She gave him a sharp look but didn't say anything. He shook his head.
"It was so fast," Jenny murmured.
"You can't think we missed something?" Alex asked incredulously, her penciled eyebrows going up skeptically. Jenny shook her head slowly.
"No; Kelly said he did it, we've got DNA, stories corroborate—it isn't that," she said absently. "The case, it was so fast. When it takes time, it drags it out, the victims come to grips, they deal…"
"You're saying you wish Kelly'd been put through more?" Olivia asked warily.
"I don't know what I'm saying," Jenny grumbled.
"Yeah, we can tell," Munch piped up. "Look, if you're worried she wasn't traumatized enough for a rape victim, Alex'll drag her through a messy trial. Buck up."
"Munch, you're a fucking bastard," Jenny said dully.
"Nice," Olivia remarked, rolling her eyes at him. "Don't you have an alimony check to deliver?" she probed.
"Har-har-har. You make me laugh," Munch responded deadpan.
Alex gave him a disbelieving look, half-amused, half-dismissive, and turned her attention to Jenny, fiddling with her brief case.
"He has a point," she said with an apologetic shrug. "Kelly is an integral part of a trial. She seems to really respond to you, Jenny, so forgive my asking you to talk to the father about bringing her for pre-trial conditioning."
"Oh, he'll love that," muttered Jenny.
"If he's anything like you, he'll want that bastard who raped his little girl punished and he'll suck it up," Alex pointed out fairly, lifting her briefcase again. She hopped off of her perch on the desk, bare feet on the icky floor again. "And Stabler seemed to think he was a lot like you."
Jenny lifted her eyebrows. She stayed silent and gave Alex a cordial parting nod.
"Damn, Alex—I've gotta ask you something about the McBee boy," Olivia said, starting and hustling after Alex, catching her at the elevator. They went in together and Jenny looked up at Munch, smiling sweetly.
"We got the guy, Shepard," Munch said bluntly. "She's just another case."
"This is all going to hit her full force when she stops to take a breath, John," Jenny said quietly and surely. "I know it. And she won't have any distraction, nothing to cling to, just a broken childhood and a crime she doesn't understand. And him? He doesn't know what he's dealing with."
"What, and messiah Jenny wants to save them? For Christ's sake, there are a thousand girls like her," Munch said, rolling his eyes.
"There aren't a thousand fathers like him," she said quietly.
"You don't know him. You're attracted to him," scoffed Munch.
"When you've quite finished being a dick, I'd like you to leave," Jenny fired back brightly.
"There's my girl," Munch said smugly, glad for the snippy return. She was his partner and his friend, and he'd seen her a lot of different ways. He never liked to see her obsess over a case. Seeing her obsess over a case like this was…preposterous and disconcerting.
"Go home. Get some sleep," he ordered.
"I'll stay here, thanks. Cragen and I can crack a bottle of whiskey and talk about the good ol' days," she mocked.
"His trials in 'Nam and your travesty at the lock-up down at Vice?" snorted Munch, smirking a little. "What a pair," he remarked.
Jenny shrugged and smiled.
"Get outta here before I start turnin' tricks on you," she snapped playfully. "Your saggy old ass would die of sexual shock."
Munch grunted and flicked off his desk lamp, hitting Fin's for good measure as he went. He looked back and saw Jenny lean back in her chair again, popping the edge of her pen into her mouth and chewing on it.
He looked at her long, elegant red ponytail for a minute, mulling it over.
"Hey, Jenny," he said finally.
She turned and looked at him, shadowed in the darkened squad room.
"If she really won't get out of your head, this girl," he hesitated, and rolled his eyes, as if he couldn't believe he was condoning this. "Make a house call. Victim never complained before when her detective showed a little heart."
Jenny smiled mildly and swiveled back around slowly in her chair.
She picked up the barrette she had sitting on her desk and looked at it.
Then, she chucked the pen from her mouth, stood up, and resolutely slipped the cute little accessory into her pocket.
Sunday December 5th 1993. NCIS. Bullpen. 10:36 pm.
"Shit."
Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, very green at NCIS, looked up with a wince as he heard the old dinosaur across the bull pen snarl angrily.
"Shit, shit, shit."
Tony wondered if he should ask what was wrong. Aside from the obvious. Like the fact that Gibbs' daughter had been raped, and they were swamped with homicide cases because the city had gone psycho, and Abby was a mess because she loved those little girls and someone had hurt one of them.
"Fuck."
So now Franks had upgraded to the mother of all curse words.
"God-mother-fu—"
"Um, Franks?" Tony interrupted hesitantly, ducking his head a little in case something came flying at him. Like a leftover hand grenade or some dusty napalm from Franks' Vietnam days.
"What, boy?" growled Mike Franks, glaring at the probationary agent across the room.
"Erm. Nothing," Tony said immediately, and then plunged on, throwing caution to the winds. "Except I just wondered if something was wrong."
"Are you an idiot?" barked Franks.
"No…" said Tony slowly.
"Good answer, boy," hissed Franks, shoving away from his desk and slamming a file in front of him shut. "We got nothin'!" he snarled.
"On which case?"
"Any of 'em! The double murder, the murder-suicide, the wife's alleged murder, the kids' murder!"
Tony nodded, looking helplessly at the file in front of him. He blinked his eyes tiredly. None of them had slept since Gibbs brought Kelly and Lizzy to work for a brief minute the other morning to explain what had happened.
Tony had never seen Franks so raging mad, and he'd never seen Gibbs looking so defeated. Kelly had wandered over to say hi to him, but she had looked tired, and she'd jumped away when he reached out to ruffle her hair. Then Gibbs had shouted at him. It had been a miserable few days.
No one had wanted to tell Abby, but she always found things out, and she hadn't stopped crying.
"Snap out of it, son," growled Franks suddenly, dropping a few files on Tony's desk. "Time don't just stop because of a crime. And you're not leaving until you find me a new angle on the Burgan case," he growled, tapping the files roughly.
He stormed back over to his desk, stopped, and whirled around.
"Dammit!" he swore loudly. "Where the fuck are the Kesley statements?"
"Um," Tony had jumped a mile at Franks' outburst. "I think Gibbs took them?" he offered tentatively.
Franks thought for a moment. He deflated.
"Yeah. Right. Guess probie has to do something when the house gets quiet," he growled, pacing around the bull pen for a minute. He snatched his coat from the desk suddenly. It was late. It was Sunday night. They were crazy men with no families to go home to.
"Sciuto in the lab?" Franks asked shortly.
Tony shook his head. Then stopped, and nodded.
"She…she's pouring over the evidence from Kelly's…um…" Tony trailed off.
Franks looked distressed by the information. He shook his head sharply.
"No. The hell she is," he muttered, and began storming off.
"Hey, where you going?" Tony asked, jumping up, his brow furrowing. They couldn't be leaving him in charge; it would only give them something to bitch about tomorrow!
"I'm getting Abs a puppy or somethin'," Franks growled back. "And then I'm gonna find a way to kill the bastard who raped Probie's daughter."
Tony winced at Mike Franks' fighting words, considering the ramifications if that guy did end up dead.
Though he wouldn't mind killing the guy himself.
Sunday December 5th 1993. Home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Kelly Gibbs, and Elizabeth Gibbs. 11:00 pm.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs wasn't focusing on the papers in front of him.
He stared at them blankly, his shoulders stiff and aching, his eyes tired from no sleep, his head throbbing. His senses were attuned to the living room behind him, the soft murmur of Disney characters on the TV and Lizzy's occasional adorable giggles.
Kelly hadn't made a sound in an hour and he was hoping—praying—against hope she had fallen asleep. It was late, and she should be in bed, but she kept having nightmares and she didn't want to be alone in her room. Lizzy should be in bed, but he'd slacked off lately on discipline, and she wasn't. He didn't give a damn; who cared if she was in bed as long as she was unharmed and smiling?
He was hurting, and it was more than just a dull physical pain. He was struggling to come to grips with what had happened—happened so fast, and to his little girl, his innocent, sweet little girl.
It was so wrong. So evil. He couldn't shake the thought that if he just tried to get Lizzy to stop clinging to him, he could have let Abby or her grandmother babysit and seen Kelly's recital…and then no one ever would have touched her. He should have been there.
Except he couldn't stand leaving Lizzy crying when she was sick. She needed him, too. Kelly needed him now. They both needed him. They needed their mother, and things had been so hard since Shannon had been murdered.
He felt sick. Sick and angry. He flexed his fist, remembering the gun in it, pressed against that son of a bitch's head, trembling, aching to fire. He should have shot him. Shot him and screw the consequences. Like he had with the one who'd taken Shannon from him and his girls.
"Daddy!" whispered Lizzy.
She ran up to him and wrapped her arms around his knee, burying her face in his waist and snuggling up to him. He grunted at her, reaching down to touch her soft baby hair.
"Scary monster," Lizzy murmured. He turned around sharply, and relaxed when he realized she was talking about the creepy octopus woman in the Little Mermaid. Jethro smiled fondly and looked down. She smiled up at him. She was a happy kid; she smiled a lot. A far cry from the fussy baby she'd been when he'd come home from Kuwait to a motherless infant and Kindergartener.
"You think you're gonna go to bed anytime soon, Liz?" Jethro asked gently.
"Kelly gets to stay awake!"
"Yeah," sighed Jethro.
She wrinkled her nose at him and stood on tiptoes, peaking at his work and attempting to scramble up into his lap. He reached for her when she paused and slid back down, cocking her head. Jethro turned to listen, thinking she was hearing her sister.
"Someone is here," Lizzy informed him softly.
"What, baby?" he asked distractedly, furrowing his brow.
Lizzy pointed at the door and pointed to her ear smiling. As usual, he was floored by her sensitive hearing. He stood up. Lizzy looked up at him and then scampered off. She jumped onto the couch and Jethro flinched when he heard Kelly squeal and moan, mumbling something in annoyance at Lizzie.
He heard a car door slam in the driveway and checked the clock. It was way past ten. Quickly, he walked over to the couch and peered at Kelly and Lizzy. Lizzy's eyes were back on the TV, and Kelly was curled under a blanket. He pressed his hand to her forehead gently and started towards the door, eager to prevent a knock or the doorbell.
He unlocked the door without looking through the peephole and opened it.
Jethro didn't really react to the redhead detective standing on his doorstep. She looked at him in surprise, her keys and badge in her hand, obviously surprised that he'd beat her to the door.
"Detective Shepard," he greeted carefully.
"Agent Gibbs," she returned pointedly, showing a bit of pique that he had returned to professional titles. "I'm aware I might be the last reminder you want to see right now," the woman took a deep breath, her eyes determined, "but part of my job is helping the victims. And I'm damn good at it."
He looked at her for a moment.
Then, slowly, he opened the door to let her in. Because confidence like that deserved some recognition, and she'd said something earlier that was still bothering him, and had made him think Kelly might need her. She had sure mentioned Jenny a lot in the past two days.
She took the door from him and shut it behind her. She even locked it, from force of habit, he didn't doubt. She turned and looked at him, and he noticed she looked as tired as he, and briefly wondered if she'd slept at all.
Quick footsteps. Elizabeth came running.
"Hi," she greeted quietly, clutching at Jenny's jeans. She looked up at her, and very seriously but her finger to her lips. "Kelly fell asleep!" she said softly.
"Oh, she did?" asked Jenny, looking to Jethro. He pointed to the couch silently and nodded. "Is this the first time?" she asked, keeping her voice low.
"She's fallen asleep? No," he grunted. "But it's the first time she's stayed asleep longer than ten minutes."
Jenny nodded and looked back over to the couch.
"It's hard at first," she said absently.
Jethro narrowed his eyes and studied her.
"Coffee," he said hoarsely, turning towards the kitchen.
"Don't bother," she said with a shrug, but he ignored her.
"Jenny?" Lizzy asked. Jenny looked down and then crouched to her level, smiling gently. "Kelly is missing her favorite part!"
"What are you watching?" Jenny asked.
"Ariel," Lizzy answered. "Mermaid!" she added, moving her hands up in down in a swimming motion. Jenny grinned.
"What's Kelly's favorite part?" she asked curiously.
"Um. Ariel kisses Prince Eric," Lizzy whispered. She made a face. "Ick."
Jenny smiled. Lizzy moved closer to her and leaned on her leg; Jenny put her hand on the ground to keep her balance. The little girl smiled at her. She reached over and touched Jenny's hair, pulling it and looking at it interestedly.
"Red," she said, giggling. She widened her eyes and leaned forward. "I gotta check on Kelly," she whispered, nodding solemnly and scampering off. Jenny could barely see her little head as she tiptoed around the couch.
Jenny stood up, crossing her arms across her chest soothingly. It was dim in the house, the only light from the kitchen and the television. It was also relatively clean for a house kept by a single father with two girls.
"You don't have to stand," he said gruffly, coming back in with two cups of coffee.
"Interesting way of offering me a seat," she said without thinking, accustomed to a more sarcastic, bitter back-and-forth with Munch. She made a face, attempting to show she hadn't meant to snap, but he looked at her, smirked, and slid her a cup of coffee.
Jenny pulled out a seat at the table and sat down, her eyes scanning over the open files. Jethro shut the two in front of him and leaned forward, his elbows on the table, rubbing his face tiredly.
"Daddy. Daddy!" whispered Lizzy, running back over to him.
"What, honey?"
"Kelly is still sleeping," she informed him in a hush. She leaned against his leg, but before he could reach down and touch her, she ran over to Jenny again. "Kelly is sad, Jenny," she said in a small voice. She put her hand on Jenny's knee. "Can I sit with you?"
"Liz, Jenny needs to talk to me, she can't play," Jethro said, shaking his head as his daughter tried to climb up in Jenny's lap.
"I don't mind," Jenny said, unable to hold back a smile. She lifted Lizzy up effortlessly and balanced her in her lap. She brushed her hand over the girl's hair and smiled, curling one free hand about the coffee cup.
Jethro looked at Lizzy warily for a moment and sighed quietly, shrugging in defeat. Lizzy leaned her head against Jenny and immediately reached for her necklace, clasping it in her small palm.
"Be careful with that, Elizabeth," Jethro ordered.
"Okay," she whined impatiently. Jenny gave a small laugh.
Jethro took a drink of his coffee absently, staring at Elizabeth. Jenny hesitated for a moment, trying to find a good starting place, and opted to start with the—relatively—good news.
"I thought you'd like to know Kelly's blood reports turned up clean—no HIV, no gonorrhea, et cetera. She's not at risk for sexually transmitted diseases," she said in a low voice. He looked sickened and rubbed his forehead again, covering his mouth this time. She thought he might have muttered a curse under his breath.
"I didn't consider…" he started, breaking off tensely. "Goddammit."
"No, no," hissed Lizzy suddenly, looking over at him. Jenny patted her back soothingly.
"How old are you, Miss Elizabeth?" Jenny asked promptly.
"Two!" answered Lizzy proudly.
"She's three," Jethro corrected. "Three, Lizzy, remember?"
"Oh, my birthday. November four!" she said, holding up three fingers.
Jenny smiled and reached out, touching her nose affectionately. Lizzy giggled and wrinkled it.
"Then you're little enough for magic ears."
"Magic ears?" she asked, her eyes going wide.
"You can pretend you didn't hear what your Daddy said," whispered Jenny.
Lizzy scrunched up her eyes and giggled, burying her head in Jenny's shoulder and covered her face.
"Silly!" she said, muffled in Jenny's t-shirt. Jenny smiled and returned her gaze to Jethro, who was looking at her this time and not Lizzy. He smiled in a small way after a minute and met her eyes again, his look still hard and his jaw still tense in that rough way.
"How is Kelly feeling?" Jenny asked after a moment, absently running her hand up and down over Lizzy's back. She felt the little girl rest her chin on her shoulder.
Jethro shrugged bitterly.
"Tell me how she's supposed to feel, detective, and I'll let you know if she meets the benchmark," he growled quietly.
Jenny let it go, even if she was starting to get annoyed with what seemed like his constant attempts to goad her into some sort of battle of wills. She looked at him for a minute, licked her lips, and continued carefully.
"Why do you think I'm here, Agent Gibbs?" she asked softly.
He looked at her sharply.
"Haven't decided yet," he said shortly, clearly either unconcerned or unaware. She leaned forward a little, shifting Elizabeth's weight.
"It's not because I thought I'd win some cheap, gooey sensitivity-service award. I'll be damned if it put enough store by stupid commendations to show up at your house at the eleventh hour. I'm here because I care, Jethro," she said poignantly. "You're NCIS. Don't you care about your victims?"
He studied her for a minute.
"I work homicide," he grunted, his tone softening a little but his intent, wary look hardly letting up. Jenny gave a half-smile.
"How long?" she asked, clarifying when he blinked at her blankly. "How long have you been with NCIS?"
"Year," he said briskly.
"You haven't hit that case yet that just…shakes you," she murmured. He looked at her as if he wanted to blow her off, with that same look she often got from older, more hardened people. Men and woman who thought she was young, idealistic, and maybe silly. It didn't bother her anymore.
Elizabeth ran her hands over Jenny's head, tearing out tendrils of her hair. She crawled up further in Jenny's lap and tugged her thin, overused hair tie out of her hair. Jenny pursed her lips and blew bangs out of her face, giving Lizzy a funny look as it came tumbling down.
Lizzy giggled and took strands of it, twisting them together. She put her tongue between her teeth as in concentration.
It was then Jethro realized she was attractive. Beautiful, even, and he didn't know why he hadn't noticed it before. There was something unassuming about it. Her demeanor and her clothing clearly stated she didn't want to draw attention to the fact that she was stunning. It was sexist and ridiculous that he was more willing to listen when he could see all of her hair framing her face.
He shook his head in frustration.
She must have taken it as rejection of her words.
Her eyes narrowed earnestly, sharpened a little, and she locked them onto his confidently.
"Look, Jethro," she said earnestly, "I have been with the Special Victims Unit since I graduated from the academy—and they don't allow graduates to enter into that unit because of the psychological effects, but I was granted access because of circumstance and," she paused, smiling a little bitterly, "credentials. I deal with rape victims all the time, and I've dealt with quite a few sexually abused little girls. They're all the same: they withdraw, they go quiet, and they lose their spark, maybe their soul. It's heartbreaking. Kelly isn't like that. She talks to me. She smiled at me—Kelly still has her spark, and you don't know how rough this could get for her. I want to help her," she implored seriously, meaning every word of it. "I do, Jethro. You have to let me."
The man across from her stared at her. His blue eyes were clear and crystal and cobalt all at the same time, and the lines around his mouth were tight and etched in suffering. She didn't take her eyes off of him; she wanted him to understand that she really did feel a connection with Kelly.
The little one shifted and snuggled into Jenny's shoulder, resting her small head.
Jethro leaned forward on the table, glancing behind her.
"She seems…okay," he began gruffly, hesitating, "when she's awake. During the day. She wants to be around Lizzy constantly though, and she doesn't like me leaving the room, but she doesn't say anything," he stopped and glanced back at her again. "She can't sleep. She wakes up screaming."
Jenny nodded understandingly.
"Does she talk about it at all?" she prompted gently.
He reached up and rubbed his forehead.
"She asked me if she was going to have a baby," he growled. He furrowed his brows angrily and curled his hand into a fist. He looked up at her, distressed. "You've seen—" he swallowed harshly, "You've seen the bruises and the cuts? What that fucking son of a bitch did to her?" he demanded.
Again, Jenny nodded slowly, subconsciously pressing her palm gently against Elizabeth Gibbs' back. She felt the steady, soft breathing of the girl and noted that she had fallen asleep. She didn't alert Jethro.
He was covering his mouth again. His hand trembled with suppressed rage.
"She's just a little girl," he hissed his eyes hardening.
"Is there any female influence in her life?" Jenny asked cautiously, unwilling to drag hurtful feelings to the surface about his wife. He rolled his eyes absently.
"Her grandmother," he said bitterly, "but I wouldn't call her a good influence," he snapped.
Jenny compressed her lips at his tone and revelation. She sensed that, had he not been so distracted and upset, he wouldn't have announced such a dislike of the woman; he seemed like a man to stay mum on personal relationships—particularly if familial.
"How long has it been since your wife died?" Jenny asked.
He stayed silent for a moment, looking at her. He pulled his hand from his forehead and rested it on the table, looking at Elizabeth.
"Almost three years," he said hoarsely.
Jenny instinctively reached across the table and slipped her hand into his, squeezing his fingers in a way that was comforting, yet professional. He looked down at her hand as if he didn't understand it, and then slowly ran his thumb over her knuckles. She stayed silent. She watched him. And she slowly rubbed Elizabeth's back, brushing her fingers absently in the edges of the little girl's auburn hair.
"She has to testify," she said bluntly, getting it out there. "It won't really be over until the jury speaks."
He looked up at her sharply. His eyes narrowed, his jaw hardened. He shifted in his chair, toward the couch where he said Kelly lay, and looked at it.
"I don't want to put her through it," he growled.
"I know," Jenny said softly.
He looked over at Jenny.
"She has to?"
"If you want to make sure there's no way that bastard gets off," Jenny answered, letting the rest hang. He nodded, as if to himself, bushing his knuckles under his chin. He sighed in frustration, running the same hand through his hair.
"It's like catharsis," Jenny said quietly, offering a bit of wisdom. He looked at her sharply and she smiled bitterly. "Testifying," she clarified.
His eyes narrowed at her, studying. He looked at her like he could read what was written on the inside of her skull and her heart and she wasn't sure she liked it. Sure, she'd insinuated enough herself, but that gave him no right to make her feel so exposed.
She realized he still had her hand in his grip.
She pulled it out and picked up her cooling cup of coffee, taking a lukewarm mouthful and swallowing it. Elizabeth's hand twitched and she pulled at the necklace on Jenny's throat in her sleep. Jenny winced.
"Here," Jethro said suddenly, sitting up. "Give her to me, she weighs a ton," he muttered, half-getting up. Jenny shook her head, smiling gently.
"She's asleep, let her be," she soothed, patting the little girl's hair fondly. "She's a sweetheart," she complimented sincerely. His eyes softened a little as he looked at his daughter.
"She likes you," he said suddenly. He looked towards Kelly. "Kelly does, too. She said you made her feel safe, before they took her to the hospital," he muttered.
Jenny smiled to herself, turning her head to check out the sleeping kid on her. Elizabeth's hair smelled like baby soap and lavender. Her eyes were flicking under her eyelids lightly. Her nose wrinkled sleepily.
"Jenny," he said seriously. She looked up at him. "Why did they assign you to SVU against procedure?" he asked. He asked it like he anticipated the answer.
She looked at him, her jaw hardening a little, unsure if she was prepared to answer the question with a three-year-old sleeping on her shoulder. She was prevented from doing so.
A small cry and a tearful whimper grabbed Jethro's attention and he was out of his chair in seconds, crouching in front of the couch and reaching out for Kelly. Jenny winced as she heard Kelly start sobbing and covered Elizabeth's exposed ear delicately.
"Daddy," Kelly murmured, her voice thick and clogged with tears. Jenny watched her sit up, her long hair tangled and messy in the back, and curl against the arm of the couch, wrapping her arms around herself. "Daddy, it hurts. He—he—I don't want him to—"
"Honey," Jethro muttered quietly, reaching out and touching her cheek. "I am right here. You're safe," he said, pushing her hair back. She shivered and leaned against the arm rest, burying her head in it. She tilted it and looked at him, disappearing again. Jenny watched, chewing the inside of her lip.
"I want Mommy," she whimpered, leaning forward and grabbing his shoulder.
"Kelly," he said desperately, resting his hand on the back of her head and tucking it into his shoulder. He ran his palm up and down her back, pressing his lips to the side of her head in a paternal kiss and gritting his teeth.
Jenny slowly got up and looked around cursorily for a light switch. She looked at Jethro, caught his attention, and mouthed 'lights'. He pointed to the switch. Elizabeth squealed sleepily in protest as Jenny moved, her small face screwing up as the lights went on.
"Who is that?" Kelly asked quietly, sniffling as she lifted her head a little.
"Detective Shepard," Jethro answered slowly, straightening. He rested his arm over his knee and glanced at her. Kelly looked around, blinking in the lights. She sat up a little more and peered at Jenny.
"Hi, Jenny," she greeted shakily. "What are you doing here? Did something bad happen?" she asked slowly. Jenny shook her head, resting her hand lightly on Elizabeth's back.
"Nah, I just wanted to see how you were doing," she said, shrugging a little.
"Oh," Kelly said, still looking at Jenny. "Can you talk to me?" she asked.
"No problem," agreed Jenny, coming forward.
"You want something to drink, Kel?" Jethro asked, smoothing back her hair again. She nodded slowly.
"Grape juice?"
"Sure thing, kiddo," he said, touching her on the nose. Kelly smiled a little. Jethro stood up and immediately reached for Elizabeth pointedly. Jenny handed her over, clasping her hands as Elizabeth blinked her eyes groggily, murmured incoherently, and dropped her head like a rock against Jethro's shoulder.
"Hey, Lizzy, after we get Kelly some juice you're going to bed," she heard him saying as he brushed past her and started towards the kitchen.
"Nuh-uh," was the grumpy response.
Jenny smiled and walked closer to Kelly, standing in front of her. Kelly smushed the palm of her hand into her eye, rubbing tears away, and scooted over against the arm rest. She looked up at Jenny a little shyly.
"You can sit down," she offered.
Jenny smiled and obliged, dropping down next to her casually and slouching unprofessionally to make Kelly more comfortable. She blew out her breath and folded her arms across her stomach, rolling her head on the cushions to look at Kelly.
"Nightmares, huh?" she asked sympathetically.
Kelly nodded.
"Bad ones," she said quietly. She put her hand up to her temple and closed her eyes a little, tapping her head. "Like I can hear his voice in my head, all mean and mechanic like in the room where we were with Ms. Cabot?" she looked at Jenny and then frowned, glancing away. "I feel like he can see me. And he chases me, and I keep screaming. And then my head and my stomach hurt," she explained. She curled up against the armrest again, looking at Jenny with large blue eyes. "I feel scared," she said distastefully.
Jenny shrugged.
"So?"
"I'm never scared," Kelly told her. "I'm like Daddy, Mom always said so, because she hated spiders and crawly bugs and I would just kill them. I'm brave," she said. "I hate being scared."
"There is nothing wrong with being scared," Jenny said, shrugging again. "You loved your Mom, and she was scared of bugs. What's wrong with being scared?"
"It's dumb," Kelly mumbled, closing her eyes tightly and reopening them. "Being afraid makes things no fun. Peter Pan was never scared, and his life was an adventure."
"Well, Kelly, Peter Pan never had to face the bad side of the world. No one hurt children in Never Never Land," Jenny said gently.
"Captain Hook," Kelly said.
Jenny smiled. She inclined her head.
"This man, Kelly, who hurt you? He's kind of like Captain Hook, then, right?"
"No. Peter wasn't scared of Captain Hook," Kelly mumbled. She sat up a little and looked at Jenny, glancing over her shoulder toward the kitchen. She hung her head and picked at the threads on a blanket in her lap. "I feel scared all the time. Especially when I'm alone."
Jenny leaned a little closer, resting her hand on Kelly's shoulder and squeezing gently. She pressed her hand against Kelly's healing, bruised cheek and smiled softly.
"You're not alone Kelly," she said encouragingly. "You have Lizzy, and your Dad. You even have your Mom, in your memories. You can be scared right now; you have people to be brave for you. It's much better that way, okay, honey?" she said sincerely.
Kelly looked up at her, biting her lip.
"I think I hurt Daddy's feelings," she said in a small voice. Jenny furrowed her brow. How could this child, smack in the middle of the worst experience she'd ever have to go through, spare enough guilt to think about her father's feelings? Jenny bit her tongue.
"You think?" she asked curiously. Kelly nodded.
"I said I wanted Mommy," she clarified.
"Ah," Jenny noted. She shook her head. "He understands, Kelly, he does."
"He looked sad."
"Kelly," Jenny said hesitantly, biting the inside of her cheek and twisting her lips up for a moment. She rubbed the girl's shoulder again. "Your father…he loves you a lot. It's hard for him to handle the idea that someone hurt you."
Kelly's eyes narrowed and her mouth trembled again. A few tears rolled down her pale cheeks.
"I don't want him to be sad, it isn't his fault," she whimpered.
"He still feels like it is. It's a Daddy thing," Jenny said.
"I know. Grandma says he has a complex," Kelly said.
Jenny giggled. Kelly looked up at her curiously and smiled a little, the sudden light in her eyes making her tears sparkly.
"You have a pretty laugh," she said quietly. "It reminds me of my Mom," she added good-naturedly. "Your hair, too."
She reached out and touched Jenny's hair, combing her fingers through it.
"Thank you," Jenny said warmly. Kelly shook her head a little, tilting her head at Jenny's crystal orchid necklace again. She picked it up experimentally and looked at it. Then, she looked up at Jenny and licked her lips, furrowing her brow.
"Jenny," she said softly. "When will it stop making me scared?"
Jenny's eyes softened. She heard a doorbell ring obnoxiously and glanced over, watching as Jethro came out of the kitchen. He was cradling Lizzy like a baby, and he didn't have any grape juice, she'd bet a month's salary he'd been listening.
She flicked her eyes back to Kelly.
"You might always be a little scared. It takes a while, if we're being honest. Everything you're feeling, you know? Even if you think you shouldn't feel it? Face it. That makes it easier, sweetheart, I promise," she said, pushing Kelly's hair off of her forehead. "Talk to your Dad, even if it's embarrassing," she said earnestly. "He loves you. You have that, and you're lucky. It's much more than some girls," she said. "More than I had."
Kelly nodded. She pulled her hand away from Jenny's neck.
"Did someone hurt you, Jenny?" she asked tentatively. She was perceptive, that much was obvious; she got it from her father, no doubt. Jenny nodded slowly. "Like he hurt me?" Kelly asked naively. Again, Jenny just nodded.
Kelly suddenly shifted and curled into Jenny's side, turning her face against her shoulder. She shivered, sniffling a little and letting a few more tears fall.
"I like you. I'm glad you're helping on my case," she said.
"Evenin' Probie," growled a deep voice from the doorway. Jenny heard the sound of the door closing. "Pipsqueak, wake-up and give me a hug."
"MIKE!" shouted Elizabeth, suddenly wide awake. Kelly straightened and turned around, peeking over the couch. She smiled a little.
"Mr. Franks!" she called politely, waving her hand.
"Will you stop with the 'mister' crap?" the crusty old NCIS agent growled, glaring playfully at Elizabeth. She squealed and hid her face in her hands, giggling madly. Kelly hunkered down, hiding her nose and mouth behind the couch.
"Only when you learn your manners," she responded cheekily.
"Why, if you were my daughter, you munchkin…" he snipped good-naturedly, coming up on the couch and ruffling Kelly's hair messily. She crinkled her nose up at him. Mike Franks, his eyes tired and bloodshot, looked at Jenny and raised his eyebrows.
"If it ain't Detective Pretty-eyes," he said mockingly, looking her up and down. She smirked a little and held out her hand.
"I believe the last time we met the both of us were preoccupied," she said neutrally.
He grunted.
"Is that son of a bitch still in jail?" he asked sharply, looking at her hand impassively.
"Mike," snapped Jethro. He shook his head slightly when Franks looked over at him and the older man shrugged, peering at Elizabeth again.
"Man, you look sleepy, kid," he remarked. "Isn't your Dad tucking you in at night?"
"She won't go to bed," Jethro defended tiredly.
"Stop whining, Probie, let an old pro show you how it's done," growled Franks.
"You don't have kids, Mike. Daddy can do it better than you," Kelly stated.
"What did you say?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. Kelly laughed a little. Jenny smiled at the sound, thankful to the rough-and-tumble Mike Franks for walking in like nothing was wrong and making it happen. "We'll see what the pipsqueak says," he said, looking at Elizabeth. "Who has more authority, me or that guy?" he jerked his thumb at Jethro.
Jethro folded his arms and rolled his eyes.
Elizabeth stuck out her tongue thoughtfully.
"KELLY!" she shouted finally.
Mike Franks burst out laughing. Jenny smiled widely. Elizabeth slapped her hands over her mouth, giggling.
"Interesting," Franks muttered, looking at Kelly. "Guess you should put her to bed," he suggested with a shrug.
"Lizzy is not tired," Elizabeth stated.
Kelly shifted onto her knees suddenly and looked at her little sister.
"You must be Lizzy, I'm exhausted," she said sweetly. Elizabeth looked at her, her eyes confused. Kelly was supposed to back her up in the rebellion against bedtime! "My eyes hurt I'm so sleepy. It might be nice to go night night. I can read you Charlie," she coaxed, rising up a little more.
Elizabeth seemed to consider it. She looked around with wide blue eyes at everyone, patting Mike Franks on the shoulder. She yawned and smacked her lips, leaning forward to press a cute kiss to Mike's nose.
"Night night," she decided.
Kelly nodded and got up off the couch, tucking her hair behind her ears. She was wearing wrinkled jeans and a short sleeves t-shirt, her bare feet peeking out from frayed hems. Mike crouched down and Elizabeth scrambled out of his arms, throwing herself at Kelly.
"Night night," she repeated to Jenny, waving shyly and burying her face in Kelly's shirt.
"Goodnight, Elizabeth," Jenny said softly. Elizabeth giggled.
"Elizabeth," she repeated, as if unused to hearing herself called that.
"Say night to Daddy," Kelly ordered, and Elizabeth scampered away, diving at Jethro's knees with all the finesse of a charging bull.
"What's 'Charlie'?" Jenny asked curiously as they waited for the hugs and kisses to cease.
"Charles Dickens," Kelly answered quietly. "A Tale of Two Cities. It puts her out like a light, but I have no idea why. It's so good," she explained.
Jenny stared at her in amusement. The kid was eight-years-old. Eight-year-olds didn't read Dickens—hell, in her experience, most of them didn't read at all! She shook her head in wonder, and then asked another question.
"Kelly, how do you know so much about Peter Pan?"
"I read about him," she said, turning as her sister cuddled up to her again.
"Daddy loves me," she bragged immediately.
Kelly smiled and took her hand, leading her down a separate hall that must lead to the girls' rooms. Jenny turned to look at the two men left standing, finding it odd to be left alone with adults now. She looked at Jethro sincerely.
"Charles Dickens at eight. That's impressive."
"Kel? She's a genius," Franks said airily, waving his hand as if it were nothing.
"What're you doing here, Mike?" asked Jethro.
"Dragged Abs home, she was working herself insane in that lab, bawling her eyes out. Thought I'd stop by and see how your girl was," he explained with an unaffected shrug. "Didn't know you had company," he remarked, squinting at Jenny. "SVU usually make midnight house calls?"
His question was skeptical. Jenny stood up, folding her arms. She looked at him guardedly; certainly not afraid of him but unsure if she liked him yet.
"Not usually, no," she answered simply.
"Huh," grunted Franks suspiciously. "And why is a pretty little thing such as yourself prowling around a victim's house?"
"I care," she answered with a shrug.
"HA," snorted Franks. "That 'caring' got anything to do with the single marine father of two?" he asked a little nastily.
"Knock it off, Mike," growled Jethro suddenly. "She came to make sure Kelly was coping."
"Ah, she's a woman," muttered Franks, as if he thought Jethro's defense was pitiful or fueled by something else.
Jenny laughed shortly. He glared at her.
"Somethin' funny, missy?" he asked.
"Yeah," she answered slowly. "You don't like me because I have a vagina?" she asked bluntly, lifting her eyebrow archly. "Most men I come into contact with find that a benefit."
Franks stared at her, obviously winded by the bluntness of her statement. Jethro, surprisingly enough, laughed. She gave him a small smirk. Franks muttered under his breath, but the eye he gave her had a little more appreciation and tolerance in it.
Jenny lifted her shoulders a little and unfolded her arms, slipping her hand into her pocket for her keys. They jingled loudly as she pulled them out and she smiled a half-smile, holding them up.
"I think she'll sleep a little easier now, Jethro," she said mildly. "I'm heading out. I supposed I've filled my caring quota in Agent Franks eyes, and I wouldn't want the neighbors to get the wrong idea," she murmured, a little bitterly, a little playfully.
She moved around the couch and Jethro glared at Mike. He lifted his shoulders innocently.
"I'll walk you out," he grunted, pushing a chair in out of the way as she walked past.
"Good coffee," she remarked complimentarily as she passed, pointing to the mug. Jethro followed her to the door and took hold of it when she opened it, looking at her, exhausted.
"You'll be glad you heard me out," she told him, shrugging her shoulders a little.
He looked at her intently for a minute and then lowered his voice, his words rough and husky.
"This is hell," he said.
Jenny reached out and touched his arm delicately. With her other hand, she looped her keys around one finger and reached into her pocket for Kelly's little barrette, holding it out in her palm.
"I found this," she said simply. "She might look for it one day. You'll have it," she said.
Jethro looked down and took it, running his finger over the smooth metal designs.
"Her mother gave her these," he muttered.
Jenny stepped closer to the open door. She pushed her hair back a little and held out her hands. He looked up suddenly, a steel wall seeming to fall over his eyes, and straightened.
"When do you need to see her again? For testimony?"
"Alex—er, ADA Cabot will want to prep her for trial so she doesn't get nervous or caught off guard. I'll give you a call," Jenny said, shrugging a little. "There's no hurry. We have the bastard, and Alex's sure to wrangle him remand at the arraingment. I figure we give Kelly a few days to breathe."
Jethro looked at her thankfully.
"Hey Jethro?" asked Jenny. He raised his brows in answer. She smirked. "Don't make that girl go to school tomorrow."
He snorted derisively. He didn't even justify her statement with an answer.
"Take care, Jen," he muttered.
She smiled and started down the steps. It struck her again that he'd mentioned the nickname. Very few people called her that. For most, it was Jennifer until she finally ordered them to stop with that nonsense.
Jennifer, yes Jennifer—pretty Jennifer, little Jennifer…
There was a reason she hated being called Jennifer.
She made a face as she wrenched open her car door and then slammed it, her brow darkening as her mood did. Echoes of the past always snuck and crept to the front of her mind during cases like this, cases with children. Even if Kelly Gibbs was six years younger than Jenny had been.
She shook her head and turned up the volume of her retro-trash Styx tape. The music drowned out her worrisome thoughts and she thought about Jethro and Kelly on the way home, reluctant to face her dark empty house and eager to take on work bright and early.