1984; The First Time He Knew About Her

It was a sunny, hot, bright day. It was a nice day, but it was too bright, and the sun was too sunny. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was tired, he was sick of the heat—spending two months in Cuba did that to you—and he just wanted to see his wife. And sleep.

He wished Shannon had been at the airport to meet him, but she had been visiting her parents when he was informed he was being sent back to the states, and she would barely make it back to base housing at Lejeune to meet him.

He didn't care too much. It meant he conveniently missed visiting her mother and still got to see her right away.

He muttered under his breath at the unbearable heat and trudged along to his house, eyeing the car in the drive. Shannon was home. He smirked a little. She didn't know what time he would be back, and he was looking forward to surprising her.

He would be able to tell her that he had received his sniper certification and succeeded in passing qualifications to interrogate prisoners should he need to. So the time apart was worth it.

He pulled his key out of his pocket and opened the door quietly, slipping in the house. He dumped his backpack loudly in the hallway, eyeing Shannon's pile of sandals by the door. He walked forward slowly.

"Shann—"

Before he could even finish, he was blindsided by a mass of red hair leaping at him from around the corner. She nearly crawled up his back, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. He grinned and grabbed her leg, holding her up easily. He laughed, burying his face in her neck contentedly.

"Jethro!" she squealed into his shoulder. She grabbed his head and kissed him. "I missed you," she murmured, hugging him again. He hugged her back tightly, grinning. She gave him a break and unwrapped her legs, standing on her own.

"I worried you might take up with some Cuban senorita," she said wryly.

He made a face.

"They were all ugly," he answered seriously, reaching out to touch her again. He grasped her shoulders in his hands, looking her over eagerly. Two months was a damn long time to have no contact with your wife. He had only been able to speak with her three times.

"You look different," he decided, his brow furrowing a little. Her hair was the same. She dressed the same. She just looked different. Twice as attractive, if that were possible. Then again, he had been gone for a while.

He didn't want to say it in case it pissed her off, but her breasts were definitely bigger. He knew. He had spent a considerable amount of time thinking about them when he was hundreds of miles away wishing he could see them.

She smiled and bit her lip.

"Different?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "I'm not sure how to take that."

He shrugged, scrutinizing her. He slid and arm around her waist and pulled her close again. He glanced down her shirt and up again. She was not fooled for a second.

"Jethro," she coaxed softly, tilting her head. She smiled, and tried to rein it in, and then smiled again. "Are you going to ask me what's different?"

He swallowed, his mind going back to the weeks and months and conversations before he had been shipped off to Guantanamo Bay. He didn't want to ask her, in case he upset her because it wasn't true. But he had this feeling. And he knew what they had been trying to do before he left.

"Nope," he said gruffly. "Tell me."

She bit her lip and looked up at him through her eyelashes, swallowing slowly. She took a deep breath.

"You got me pregnant," she announced smugly.

She pressed her palms to his chest and waited anxiously for his reaction, her blue eyes searching his.

He stared at her. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out for a minute. They had fought about his leaving for sniper school because they were in the middle of trying to have a baby, and it hadn't seemed to be working. He cleared his throat.

"You're pregnant?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

She smiled, and nodded.

He just looked at her, his eyes widening a little.

"I thought—how long have you been pregnant?" he asked.

"I found out two weeks after you left," she said, a little breathlessly. "I didn't want to tell you over the phone—the reception was so bad, and I was worried something terrible might happen anyway," she paused hesitantly.

He grinned. He grabbed her hips and picked her up again, tilting his head back to look at her. She laughed, raising her eyebrows.

"So…when?" he asked shakily, staring at her.

"January," she answered surely, biting her lip again.

He grasped the back of her head and kissed her hard, still grinning like a fool. It was not at all what he had expected to come home to, but it was better. The baby thing had really been upsetting Shannon before he left, and now she was happy again. His MP rotation in Lejeune was scheduled to last for the next year; there was no risk of him being gone when the baby was born.

"Do you have any Cuban cigars for yourself?" she murmured, touching her forehead to his.

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. He shook his head, kissing her quickly again.

"Happy?" she asked him.

He nodded firmly, running his hand through her red hair messily.

"I love you," he said gruffly, kissing her again. She laughed, hugging his neck and pressing her lips to his forehead. "Shannon, I don't know how I'd live without you," he muttered seriously, hugging her tightly.

"You now have competition for my love," she answered, slipping a hand between them and pressing it against her abdomen. She arched an eyebrow and looked him in the eye impishly, pursing her lips.

"Moment of truth," she began dramatically. "Want a boy or a girl?"

He just shook his head, making a face. He shrugged.

"I don't care," he answered sincerely. "I don't care. I want him, or her. Or both."

Her eyes went wide in apprehensive fear. She swatted him, laughing nervously.

"Jethro, you'll jinx me! I only want one!"