***I can't believe you guys panicked! LOL You should know by now I never leave a story with just a cliffie like that! Shame on you...now, read on dear ones, and know that I will always take care of you...I promise.***


Chapter 28

"Push, Abby! You can do this, push…push!" Ziva shifted her own small bump of a belly and swabbed Abby's face with a damp washcloth. "Now relax and breath…that's it."

Tony looked exhausted himself…and a little green around the gills…as he cautiously unwrapped his aching hand from Abby's tight grip. "….er, yeah, relax Abs, or you'll take my hand off next time." He winced under his wife's glare. "Uh, I mean…do you need anything? Ice chips…jello…double cheeseburger…scotch on the rocks…?" he asked hopefully.

Abby sniffed.

Ziva smacked him on the arm. Hard.

"Owww. What was that for?" She pointed to the tears running down their friend's face. "Oh…god, I am such a shmutz. Honey, what's wrong?"

Abby hiccupped and sobbed quietly. "Jethro…I just want Jethro. I miss him so much…"

Tony sat down on the bed and gathered her gently into his arms for comfort, and looked helplessly up at his wife. She looked down at Abby with tear-glazed eyes and it broke his heart all over again. With resolve he turned to the nurse "She needs some time…", and the nurse gave Abby a mild sedative to calm her nerves. Turning to Ziva, Tony indicated a wish to speak privately, and motioned for her to come over to the seating area of the birthing suite.

"Keep her happy," he told his wife. "I have some very important calls to make."

"Wait just a minute, where do you think you are go-…" but she was cut off by his retreating backside.


Mike Franks was stuck in Quantico giving his account of what exactly happened on the night of Roy Mann's arrest, and the death of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Twiddling his thumbs as he awaited the final verdict of the panel of officers currently debating his job security, he felt his cell vibrate against his chest. Stepping out into the vacant hallway for privacy, he answered with a soft "what, DiNozzo?"

Upon hearing the other man's explanation, Mike leaned heavily against the concrete wall and ran a weary hand over his haggard face. "Shit on toast, Tony…you know we can't…now is not the time…goddamn it! Of course I don't want to explain that to her! But this has turned out to be bigger than we'd expected…look, I'll see what I can do…in the meantime…" his voice grew lower until he it was practically a whisper as he outlined his plan.

Mike entered the 'safe house' and re-keyed the alarm. As he turned, he felt the muzzle of a Glock poke him in the back of the neck. "You go no further until I see some I.D."

Chuckling, Mike slowly put a hand in one pocket…ostensibly to get out his wallet…but suddenly turned and grabbed the perp's gun hand, forcing it upward. A battle ensued, until he saw the face of his attacker. "Jesus H. Christ, Probie Jr.!! Are you TRYIN' to get yourself killed!"

At his nickname, the younger man deflated and heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank God, Mike. We had quite a scare earlier when a white unmarked van parked outside for hours without movement. We were sure that we had been made."

Mike did not like the sound of that. "I think you were right…I want to move him as quickly as possible, tonight in fact…is that possible?"

Tim nodded. "He is lucid, and asking for her. Will she be coming too?"

Nodding, Mike walked into his room and began packing quickly. "If I can work a miracle…she will be." He stopped what he was doing long enough to hand McGee a piece of paper. "Call this woman and tell her Mike needs her…very much. Just that…I need her." He emphasized the words.

Tim left the room, a puzzled frown on his face…


Tony was waiting impatiently for his phone to buzz when he caught a glimpse of McGee hurrying down the hallway. "What are you doing here?" he hissed. "You are supposed to be guarding…"

"He's being moved, Tony, and she is too." Cutting off the other man's protests, he continued, "she needs him right now…and he needs her too."

There was no arguing that. "She doesn't know yet. We felt it best in case…" Tony's voice cracked for an instant and both men thought of the night Gibbs had nearly died. It was so close…so damned close, that they'd let NCIS, the Feds, the CIA, and all the others in the Political Alphabet Soup think he'd passed away, being convinced it was only a matter of time. The hardest part of that had been having to watch as Abby slowly, silently fell apart. She'd collapsed emotionally and had not really pulled back out of it.

Little by little, as Mike investigated the circumstances behind which the Mann's were introduced into Jethro and Abby's life, he discovered something strange. After the twins were 'orphaned' due to the murder of their parents, they went to live with an uncle on their mother's side. This uncle was a Commander in the Navy, and he'd had several run in's with Jethro, making him a prime candidate for poisoning his niece and nephew toward them. Now with both dead, and the Commander promoted to a position of even greater power, their lives were in grave danger. So, it was time for Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Abby Sciuto Gibbs to disappear…forever.


Gibbs was lying in his new bed in a comfortable house somewhere in the Jamaican Islands. A balmy breeze blew in from the beach, and set the mosquito netting around the windows to swaying. Stretching, he winced only a small bit as he inadvertently pulled on the line of stitches that ran across his torso. Padding footsteps had him looking expectantly toward the door, and in walked McGee.

"Well?" he asked the younger man pointedly. Tim smiled, "She is on her way, even as we speak." Relief surged through Jethro, making him light-headed, and he closed his eyes at the sudden rush of tears and tightening of his chest.

"Thank you God…" his broken reply was all that McGee needed to hear to know that they'd done the right thing.


The next shift change was when they would do it, Tony and Ziva decided. Taking a chance on Abby's acting abilities, Ziva had made the decision to tell her that her husband was not only alive and well, but waiting to see her and be with her for the birth of their child. She just stared…not moving, not blinking…anything. Cursing herself, Ziva reached for the nurse call button, only to be stopped by a small hand on her arm. Looking up she was lost in Abby's tear glazed eyes.

"He…he's not…not dead? He is waiting? We can go now? Please…Tony…Zee…" her pleading gaze shot back and forth between the two, and they were lost.

There was nothing else to do, but take her home…home in her love's arms.


Dr. Manuela Garcia was waiting at the small airport just outside of Washington D.C. when Mike pulled up. She was a beautiful woman, with olive skin, dark hair pulled back in a chignon at the base of her delicate head, and deep amber eyes. Mike strolled up to her and gave a charming half grin as she narrowed her eyes at him and inquired as to the nature of the "need" he had. Sobering quickly, he gave her the barebones facts that would give her what she'd need to make up her mind as to her desire to help. Eyes wide, she took in every word he said…and all those that he didn't. Remembering some of the unexplained disappearances in her own native country of Nicaragua, including that of her own beloved husband some twelve years ago…until Michael Franks found his remains and had befriended her…she nodded her head and, putting a soft hand on his arm, said,

"Michael, I will do this, for her…for him, most of all for you my dear one."

He looked down into her eyes with astonishment, joy, and love. "Manuela" his voice was unsteady, but his embrace was not when he wrapped her tiny frame in his much larger one, and tipping her chin up, angled his mouth over hers to taste. He groaned inwardly as she tentatively opened her mouth for him, and he let his tongue sweep in to take, sweep and plunder until she was panting and moaning. He ran his hands up and down her arms in a soothing motion that both relaxed and enticed. Bright headlights and squealing tires had them jumping apart, him in front of her in a protective stance.

Tony climbed out and said tensely, "she's in hard labor, and still pushing…"

Manuela knew what needed to be done, and so she climbed in next to the terrified Abby. "Hello, I am Manuela. I am going to be your doctor…"


Tim finally convinced Gibbs to rest before Abby showed up. He insisted that he wasn't tired, all the while yawning his head off. The small, yet comfortable plane took off right on schedule, Mike at the controls. Abby was made as comfortable as possible under the conditions and everyone prayed that they would get here before her labor started back up again.

Tim's cell vibrated in his pocket, and he gingerly took it out, glancing surreptitiously at the bed. Gibbs' eyes were wide open, and his expression was one of 'aren't you going to answer it, moron?'

"McGee." He stated flatly into the receiver. The voice on the other end was loud enough for Jethro to hear. "You've landed? Is she with you? Awesome! Can I talk to her?" he regretted the question even before he saw Gibbs' face. "Never mind…just get here asap."


Pain rippled low in her abdomen…again, here we go again…she was so tired, and where was Jethro? They said he'd be here…but he wasn't…Jethro, I miss you so much…I need you, please come to me…

They got her into a comfortable room next to his, and Manuela hooked her up to the portable machines that she'd brought with her. Abruptly, the reassuring blip, blup, blip of the infant's heartbeat was sounding loud and clear.

Jethro stumbled to his feet. Abby…my Abby he thought…and he lurched, stumbled and limped his way on unsteady feet toward the sound of his baby's heart.

Abby lay unresponsive to the doctor's attempts to get her to push. "Come on Abigail…you need to help your baby. Do it for your husband…" Abby came to life just then…and Manuela found her arm caught in a bruising grip.

"You leave my husband out of this!" she hissed, panting against the urge to bear down. "I need him to be HERE…here…" and she broke then, tears flooding her eyes and sobs wracking her too thin frame.

A voice from the doorway said, "But I am here, honey."

Her eyes flew open and she turned to the door to see her Gibbs, her silver-haired Fox, thin, ragged around the edges, but still HERS…and ALIVE. She cried out his name and he stumbled to her bed where they embraced, mouths fused, hands roaming over face and body as though making sure the other person wasn't a mirage. A long, stabbing pain sliced Abby's womb open and she cried out in anguish. Jethro lifted his head in fear that he'd hurt her and she held her abdomen, panting in small breaths. Manuela took control at once.

"You are Gibbs I presume?" he nodded. "I shall ask you to sit behind her on the bed. When I say push, help her sit up, and pull her legs back toward you. Do you think you can do this?" He nodded affirmative, and climbed in, gently pulling Abby into a warm embrace and wrapping his big arms around her.

"All right Abby, you are…" she quickly checked. "ten centimeters, fully dilated. Let's get this baby born, shall we? Push, Abigail…push!"

With the help of Gibbs, who sat her up, and pulled her legs back, all the while whispering loving words…encouraging words…beautiful words, into her ear. With only a couple of pushes, a lusty cry was added to this litany of words, and the Gibbs family welcomed its newest member, Madeline Ziva Gibbs, weighing in at 8 lbs 4oz and 18in.