A/N - thanks for the reviews

Part 8

"Gunny!"

"Is there a gun in that bag of yours?" He asked, dropping his head to her shoulder for a moment before looking up to see what all the fuss was about. And apparently they weren't the centre of attention this time. "Damn!"

"What is it?" He got to his feet – knowing there was no way to stop her from funding out.

"Reporter from last night is back." She looked past him to see her detail, who had been keeping a remarkably low profile on the fringes of the park, talking to a man. "I guess he still wants an interview."

"Well, he's going to be disappointed." Anyone at NCIS would have recognised her expression – and probably made a dash for cover. Gibbs followed her across the park, gesturing for everyone else to let her handle this.

"Is there a problem?" She demanded – looking at the senior member of her detail.

"Press, ma'am."

"Director Shepard, I just want an interview – half an hour of your time." He looked ridiculously young and full of his own importance, she wasn't his ticket to a better job but knew he might not see things the same way.

"I'm here in a private capacity – no interviews." He quailed, just a little in the face of her glare and icy tone. She didn't want to consider that she was particularly annoyed because of the moment he had just interrupted. "What's your name?"

"Ryan Jacobs – ma'am."

"Do you know what you're interrupting here Ryan, do you even care?"

"A reunion?"

"These men are Marines – they're here with their families, their friends. They've served their country and if you think for a single moment that I'm the story, then you're not much of a reporter." She glanced over at Pete, who was watching the exchange with curiosity, not sure if he would welcome what she was about to do. A light touch brushed across her back and she knew, without even having to look that Jethro was right there – offering support and probably his own brand of intimidation.

"Why not ask them if they'll to talk to you, for the thirty minutes you wanted from me and then you need to let them get back to enjoying their day." She exchanged a glance with the detail, silently communicating that she expected them to make sure he left after the allotted time period.

"Come on son," Pete said – his gaze sliding beyond Jenny to where Gibbs waited at her shoulder, "why don't you ask some of the wives what it's like being married to a Marine?" Jacobs looked a little dazed by the speed at which the tables had been turned on him, no doubt that wasn't the story he'd been hoping for – but he didn't argue.


Gibbs knew he needed to get her to calm down, especially if he wanted to recapture their mood from earlier and he was pretty sure that he wanted to recapture that particular mood. "Let's take a walk," he suggested, when he was happy the others had the situation under control.

She nodded once but didn't break the silence she'd lapsed into - which wasn't quite the effect he had intended, especially since he could practically hear the second-guessing she was doing. He touched his hand to her back again and guided her over in the direction of a small copse. "So," he searched for a neutral subject, "why didn't you want to go to the ballet with Ducky?" And then wished he'd kept quiet when he saw her face. "Jen?"

"I was 12 when I went to the ballet for the first time, my father took me to see Swan Lake and it was magical. He took me to the ballet whenever he could – even when I grew up. Since he died, I've been a couple of times – but it wasn't the same. I'm trying to let go of my ghosts Jethro – I wasn't sure an evening at the ballet would accomplish that."

He didn't like the hollow tone in her voice as she recounted the tale, or the thought that instead she was here with him – another ghost, something else she might be trying to let go. He couldn't ask the question – not now, when she was starting to represent the things he thought he wanted to hold onto.

"And I wouldn't have let you go through this alone." She added, looking around – apparently realising how far they'd walked. "What's going on?"

"I wanted to make sure that no one interrupted," he said, taking her by the shoulders and pushing her gently back against one of the trees, "this time." He gave her plenty of opportunity to stop him, but the smile tugging at her lips told him that she wasn't going to.

She met him halfway, lips brushing together carefully once, twice – before she curled her hand around his neck, pulling him closer and parting her lips beneath his. "Do that again," she murmured a little later, her eyes still closed.

"As many times as you like," he promised as he touched his lips to her forehead, her cheek, then down to her ear where a tug to her earlobe made her breath catch and her fingernails dig into his arm.

TBC