Six-thirty that Evening:

A/N: VGLittlebear, my sister bear, advised me that a few things were wrong in the last chapter and I've fixed them so a big thanks to her for her assistance.

O'Malley's is the quintessential Irish pub. The wood of the tables is dark, carved with Irish runes and the upholstery is dark green with golden buttons. Pictures of Irish politicians and singers from Boston and Ireland graced the walls. Everywhere you looked there were Irish mugs looking back at you. All of this made O'Malley's a favorite of the Boston Police Department. Rizzoli had led Gibbs to a booth in the back. It was a place where the whole pub opened up and everyone could be seen. Jane had used this booth since she was a cop on a beat and she'd felt comfortable in the bar since the first time she'd walked through the door, years ago. The feelings of camaraderie and commitment that filled the pub made being a cop worthwhile.

Gibbs approved of the place and the feel of it. To him the essence of justice and law permeated the restaurant. There were only a couple in Washington that held the same feel. He could understand the appeal to a detective and one such as Rizzoli, who'd grown up here.

As they sat and chatted, the waitress brought out two Smithwick's for them. They'd been Jane's favorite beer for as long as she remembered. Gibbs tasted his and nodded his approval.

Gibbs watched her as she drank her beer straight from the bottle. He noticed that even though she drank 'like one of the boys' it was graceful and almost ladylike, just like the rest of her demeanor. There also was a conciseness about the way she moved and he had to guess about her thought processes as well. She fascinated him and he wanted to know more about her. Again he found himself wondering how he'd gone from disliking her at first meeting to sitting across from her and wanting to know more about her even to the point of admiring her in such a short time.

Rizzoli sat across from him and wondered the same thing about him. He'd initially come off as dull, then cranky and a real bastard but he moved to playful, gruff and onto caring. She'd admit it she found him attractive but more to the point she found him to be a good man, a man you could trust to have your back and your heart. That last thought left her confused and slightly disturbed because it had come from out of the blue. Even so she decided to still play the curmudgeonly detective with him. She'd sweet talk him later if she had to. "So..are you willing to share what you found?"

Gibbs gazed about the restaurant and took his time answering the question. His eyes came back to hers and he started speaking. "The bomb was placed for the biggest bang for the least buck. It had been placed exactly where it was needed to take the ship apart from the bow to the stern and starboard to port, slowly. It would have been a leisurely burn. Because of the make-up of the fuel it would have started slow and once the wood had caught she'd have gone up and all the nation could have done was watch. Do any of your suspects have wooden boat building in their backgrounds. They'd had to have the knowledge for placement or have a friend that does. Do either have any time in the service? Why don't you tell me about your suspects."

The waitress chose that moment to approach to take their dinner orders. Jane actually gave a surprised jump at the sound of her voice. Neither of them had looked at the menu. "Hey Maggie, we're busy talking shop, we'll let you know when we're ready." Maggie nodded and walked away. "I guess we'd better take a look at the menu." Jane gave Gibbs a sheepish grin and moved to pick up the menu. Gibbs gave her his trademark smirk and did the same. They made their choices and Rizzoli waved Maggie down. Their selections were taken and Maggie left.

After Maggie had left the detective thought about her suspects. Did either one have shipbuilding in his past? It's a good question. "Steven Lancer grew up in Des Moines, Iowa and his father built cabinets for a living. He'd have woodworking skills. That might be your connection. Jereld French grew up on Cape Cod. He'd apprenticed with a dorie builder in Chatham, Massachusetts for a couple of years. He also worked with a demolitions crew in South Boston for a year. Again there was a connection with wood and ship building but one also to materials for bomb building. "How do you know about ship building? Where'd you grow up?"

Gibbs sipped his beer and watched her eyes. He'd begun to think of them as the essence of her beauty. "I grew up in Stillwater, Pennsylvania which is nowhere near the water for a boat. I learned woodworking and carpentry from my dad and his best friend. I've actually built a boat or two. How about you? Where were you born and raised?"

Jane, in turn, gazed across the table at a man who, eight hours ago, she had no use for. Now he had become instrumental in solving the case. His people skills impressed her and that included his getting her attention as well. He interested her. "I was born here in Boston. My parents have lived in the same house all of my life. I have a brother, Frankie, who has recently passed the detective exam. Mom and Dad are still together and argue like an old married couple, which they are. What about your family?"

Gibbs looked inward to his soul and tried to find a way to tell her about his screwed up life. "My childhood was a little different. My mom died of cancer when I was young and my dad didn't take it well. He and I, well we never got along real well. We were both too much alike, you know, stubborn and strong willed. My dad died eighteen months ago and in the last few months of his life we learned to appreciate our differences and our similarities." Gibbs stopped talking to gather his emotions. "I miss him every single day."

The detective began to see the man inside of the gruff exterior and to appreciate him even more. He'd let her inside his armor and she wondered why.

Gibbs longed to continue their intimate conversation because he'd learned more about her and with that came the ability to understand what made her tick but the reality was that the case needed to be worked on, not their relationship. "About your suspects…do you know where they are?"

Jane sat back in the booth. She hadn't realized that she'd moved to the edge of the seat. There was a sense of loss because the conversation had returned to the case. She had wanted to learn more about him. Okay, he'd come to Boston to take down domestic terrorists and not meet her and that is what they would do. "Yeah, I know where to find them. We'll have them picked up and interrogate them first thing in the morning."

Gibbs nodded his acceptance of the situation and took another sip of his beer. Just as he took that sip Maggie arrived with the food.