Disclaimer: NCIS belongs to someone else, not to me. If it belonged to me Ari would have died in Autopsy. Kate would still be alive and so would Jenny. Unfortunately Ziva would be off somewhere else killing Tangos for Mossad. Sorry TIVA fans.

Authors Note: When I started this story, it was supposed to be Mike Franks' view of "Judgment Day". It kind of got away from me. Besides, Mike's view is pretty clear in the episode. I hope that the Mike fans out there won't be disappointed.

Spoilers: "Judgment Day", of course. Also " Iceman".

The beach, Baja Mexico

Mike Franks was feeling good. The sun was warm and there was cold beer in the cooler. In front of him, his 21 month old granddaughter was trying to build a sandcastle on the Baja beach. She was using an old plastic cup, with limited success. The sand was too dry.

Mike got out of his beach chair and squatted next to her.

"Hope, honey, you need to go get some water and bring it back here."

"Okay, Poppy."

The little girl tottered off toward the water with the cup. She was closely followed by her mother. Amaya Ayoob-O'Neill has come a long way since coming to Mexico. At first she would only go out dressed head to toe with just her eyes showing. Now she was wearing a one piece bathing suit and a "Corona" sun visor.

Using a mixture of English and newfound Arabic, Mike had convinced Amaya to have Aasia (Hope) baptized a Catholic. This way if anything happened to her or Mike or both, Hope's godparents could step in.

Hope's godmother was Camilla Charro. Hope's godfather was none other than Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Thinking of Gibbs brought the events of last week rushing back.

"I haven't had a week that bloody since 'Nam." thought Mike.

The body count stood at eight. Retired NCIS Special Agent William Decker, his girlfriend Sasha Gordon, Russian mobster Viggo Drantyev, the three mutts from the diner, former KGB agent Svetlana Chernitskaya and NCIS Director Jennifer Shepard.

There might have been nine, if Mike had gone back to Mexico rather than hopping a flight to Washington DC. Franks had recognized the number series for Decker's "insurance policy" as an old NIS case number. A visit to Archives at the Navy Yard had gotten Mike the file.

Franks had spotted Gibbs leaving the Yard in one tearing hurry. Trailing behind, Mike had seen the blond woman going into Jenny Shepard's townhouse. Probie had cut this one almost too fine. Or maybe not. Gibbs' weapon had been on the desk and Jethro had been by the liquor cabinet. Almost a little too far to make a grab. So, Mike had dropped Svetlana with one round from his .45.

With a body now conveniently available, the "NCIS Director killed in a gunfight" problem was solved with a four alarm fire and charred corpse.

Mike's reverie was broken by Hope's return.

"Water, Poppy"

"Okay, baby girl, now we mix up the sand and water. You'll be able to make the walls stick together now, see?"

The little girl smiled and threw her arms around Mike's neck, planting a wet sandy kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, Poppy."

"My pleasure, princess."

Franks saw his granddaughters eyes widen in surprise.

"Uncle Gibbs!!"

Mike looked over his shoulder and sure enough, there stood his Probie, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Hi, Boss."

Two hours later, Carlos' Cantina

After returning to Mike's house, Gibbs did what any godfather would. He dumped out half a suitcase full of presents for Hope.

The two men then repaired to Carlos' Cantina, with Camilla's admonition to "come back reasonably sober" ringing in their ears.

Two rounds were consumed before a word was spoken.

"So, Probie, why are you here?"

"I hadda get out of DC, Mike."

On the way over to the cantina, Gibbs had brought Mike up to date on the changes to his team.

"If I didn't leave I probably would have done something stupid."

"Leon didn't kick about the two weeks?"

Gibbs smiled.

"Nah, HR is always complainin' about me not taking my time. He signed off, no problem. I think he was glad to get rid of me, actually."

"Yeah, you and Leon never did see eye to eye."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"I have my ways, Probie."

Although he'd been retired since '96, Mike was still well informed about the goings on at NCIS.

"What are you really doing here Jethro?"

A look of pain crossed Gibbs' face.

"I should have been there, Boss."

"That was the point, Gibbs, she didn't want you there. She was trying to protect you. To keep you safe from her mistake."

"But…"

"No buts. We've gone over this already, Probie. If it's absolution ya came down here for, I can't give it to ya."

"Now, I've got a question for you Jethro. Back in Jenny's townhouse, you wanted that blond to cap you didn't ya?"

"Shit…" said Gibbs, throwing money on the bar and walking out.

Back in the day Franks would have chased after his Probie to either physically or verbally beat some sense into him.

Not today.

"JOSE, un tequila y cerveza, por favor!"

Mike lit a cigarette and leaned back. A long walk would cool Jethro off. After all Mike had two weeks to work on him.

The road to Cabo Suerte

Gibbs walked blindly away from Carlos'. After about fifteen minutes he realized it was going to be a long walk back to Mike's place.

"I'm a horse's ass."

As he walked Gibbs thought about the last thing Mike said to him before he walked out. Did he really have a death wish?

Jethro wasn't the introspective type, but the thought wouldn't leave him. He went over those last few minutes before Mike killed Svetlana. The distance from where he was standing to his weapon was probably a little long. But he could have made it. Maybe.

Gibbs head slapped himself. When he got back to Mike's, he was gonna have to hit the Jack and think about this a little more.

Gravel crunched behind him. When he turned there was a white sedan rolling up to him. Rental car. The car stopped next to him and the window rolled down.

"Perdon, Senor, como llego Cabo Suerte?"

"Spanish with an Irish accent" thought Gibbs "Interesting combo."

He bent down and looked in the window.

Long red hair, sky blue eyes and freckles.

He felt the blood drain out of his face.

"Karma's a bitch."

"Sorry, don't speak Spanish."

"Are you alright, you look as if you've seen a ghost."

"No, I'm okay, it's just you remind me of someone I've lost recently."

"You're American."

"Yes, I am…?"

"Maeve, Maeve O'Connell."

"Jethro Gibbs, my friends call me Gibbs."

"So, I can call you…?"

"Gibbs, by all means. You trying to get to Cabo Suerte?"

"Yes, actually. I have friends who live there. I'm here on holiday."

Gibbs smiled.

"Well, you're in luck. I have a friend with a house on the beach there. Be glad to show you the way."

"I, ah….." Maeve hesitated.

Gibbs reached into his back pocket and came out with his ID wallet.

"I work for the US Navy."

"What's NCIS?"

"We investigate crimes involving the Navy and Marine Corps. I'm here on vacation too."

Maeve grinned at him.

"Hop in then. Why were you walking?"

As Gibbs slid into the front seat of the sedan, he said, "It's a long story…."

A/N: As I said, it kind of got away from me. But I still think it works. As usual I got some good advice from people I trust. I sorta followed it. Any complaints, hit the green button below and I'll try and do better the next time.