A/N: Wow. Thanks guys for those great reviews! I really hadn't expected that many. You're awesome! I meant to reply to each of you individually, but real life's a bitch right now and didn't find the time :/ But I loved every single one of them. Thanks. Hope you like the next chapter, too.

Chapter Two.

Jethro had awoken sometime around lunchtime with a headache that had him wish to die right there and then. He never used to sleep that late, never used to drink that much, either, and yet it had become a common occurrence over the last couple of weeks. He didn't like what he had become, hell, he even despised himself for it, but he didn't know how to get out his funks. He couldn't even bring himself to care. He didn't owe anyone an explanation, not Shannon's mother, who kept on nagging him about every damn thing he did, not his own father, who had had the nerve to come to the funeral with a date and certainly not to Mike Franks, who would by now surely be furious that he hadn't showed up at work.

Mentally shrugging, Jethro switched off the light on the nightstand, wondering why he hadn't done so in the middle of the night, then dragged himself down the stairs, started the coffee maker and tried to decide what to do with the rest of the day. He would have to go back to that bar to get his keys and he secretly wished that that barkeeper would have just let him drive home the night before. But there was nothing to be done about that anymore and another night out a bar wasn't the most terrible thing anyway. At least, he wouldn't be spending the night alone in his dark and cold house.

.

A couple of hours later, Jethro paid the cab driver and then slowly made his way into the bar, wondering why in the world he had even bothered to go in there the night before. It was shabby beyond belief and he had no clue why anybody would willingly spend time in there. Maybe, he had been too far gone already when he had first arrived there yesterday. Subtly shaking his head, he approached the counter and found himself oddly relieved when the same kid was standing behind it. At least, he wouldn't have to explain himself to another barkeeper. At that moment, the man looked up and smiled at him ever so slightly as he rummaged through the pockets of his jeans. He finally found what he was looking for, yanked out Jethro's keys and placed them on the counter in front of him.

"Here you go," he said, grinning at him ever so slightly. "I hope you're not too mad at me."

Jethro snorted and shook his head before taking a seat, despite his better judgment.

"What can I get you?" the kid asked, wiping down the counter.

"Beer," Jethro grunted. "If that's okay with you?"

"Got nothing against drinking," the boy answered cheekily. "It's the driving afterwards that's not fine with me."

A hint of a shadow appeared in the kid's green eyes for a moment and just when Jethro was about to say something about it, the boy turned around to get him the ordered beverage. Jethro fixed him with a stare as he tried to figure out why he was even talking to the kid, but then decided that he didn't care. The bar was practically empty and there was no one else he'd rather talk to, so what did it matter? The younger man placed a beer bottle on the counter now with another smile.

"You look better today," he then said, picking up a rag to clean a couple of already clean-looking glasses.

"Yeah," Jethro snorted again before he took a sip. "No alcoholic here."

"Sure looked like one last night," the kid answered with ease and Jethro noticed something that felt suspiciously like anger flare up inside of him.

He hadn't been angry in a while now, had actually not felt much of anything these last couple of weeks. He wasn't quite sure whether being angry was the best of feeling for his inner state of mind, but it was… something. He didn't care to share it with the other man, though. It wouldn't help getting furious and especially not over something like this.

"I mean," the kid continued after a while, still grinning at him ever so slightly. "You had like eight glasses of bourbon and didn't even sway when you got up. Last time I've seen that…"

He trailed off now and Jethro wasn't sure whether it was because he had fixed him with another one of his patented death glares or because the younger man had let something slip that he hadn't intended to. Either way, the young man had stopped babbling for the moment and Jethro really was okay with that. He liked his quiet after all.

They spent the next few minutes in silence and Jethro found himself surreptitiously watch the kid walking up and down behind the bar. He was tall and gangly, but Jethro could tell that he hadn't been lying about being a Phys. Ed. major because he didn't seem weak and had a youthful grace to his steps. What struck him as odd, though, was that while his outfit was apparently carelessly thrown together, the clothes didn't exactly seem to be cheap. Jethro squinted a bit and then thought he could make out a brand name that Shannon had adored. He took a deep breath and run a hand over his face, trying to fight down the pain that would always appear whenever a memory of his late wife resurfaced and hit him unprepared. He felt the kid's eyes on him again and quickly pulled himself together. Sipping from his beer, he looked at the young man.

"So why do you work here?" he finally asked even if he had no idea why he even felt the strange urge to talk to him.

"Need the money for college," the kid shrugged carelessly. "Pays pretty well actually."

"Sure," Jethro shook his head. "What college?"

"OSU," he grinned again.

"OSU?" Jethro asked, slightly surprised. "Ohio?"

"Yup."

"They don't have shabby bars in Ohio?"

The kid laughed, shaking his head. "I'm sure they do. But I'm in between apartments over the summer break, so I'm bunking with some friends here."

"Hmm," Gibbs grunted, averting his glance from the kid to stare at his beer instead.

He knew he should go home. This wasn't like him, sitting in a bar on a Monday evening talking to a barkeeper at least ten years his junior. But what else was there really? At least, the kid wasn't looking at him in disgust like he had done the night before and he was actually talking, too. Jethro, in fact, wasn't quite sure when he had last initiated any kind of conversation himself.

"So, you're what?" the kid roused him from his thoughts. "Army?"

"Marine," Jethro grunted. "Used to be, at least."

"My uncle always said there's no such thing as an Ex-Marine."

"That'd be right."

The kid gave him a smile, a real one, showing his teeth and Jethro felt something inside him settle down. He blinked, trying to figure out why that was but before he could dwell on the thought for too long, the young man had reached out his hand to shake Jethro's.

"I'm Tony, by the way."

Taking his hand, Jethro looked up at him again before he slowly answered, hesitating ever so slightly. "Ben."

Tony looked at him for a moment, raising an eyebrow as if he was trying to figure out whether it was his real name, but then shrugged again.

"Nice to meet you, Ben. And I'm sorry about yesterday, shouldn't have called you an alcoholic."

Jethro just shrugged. He didn't care what the kid thought about him or anyone else for that matter. He couldn't help to realize, though, that Tony was only half-wrong. He might not be an alcoholic, but he sure was on the way to become one. Drinking himself into bourbon-induced stupor after stupor was no exception anymore. He had always liked a glass of bourbon or even wine whenever Shannon felt like drinking one, but he had rarely ever drunk more than that. Funny, how things could change so quickly, because nowadays, he couldn't imagine a day without it. He knew he had to stop doing that, but once again he saw no reason to. There was nobody home to chide him anyway.

Once more pulling himself away from his thoughts, Jethro turned to stare at Tony instead. He didn't know what it was exactly, but something told him that this kind of environment wasn't his usual one. It wasn't like he looked out of place because he certainly fit here, but a kid like him could probably fit just about everywhere. It had to be something else entirely, but Jethro couldn't quite put a finger on it. He briefly wondered what it even mattered, he wasn't likely to see the man ever again after tonight.

"Like what you see?" Tony asked, smirking ever so slightly and raising an eyebrow, and Jethro realized only now that he had been staring at him this whole time he had been thinking.

He just snorted and shook his head, but Tony just continued to look at him. In fact, he was all but giving him an once-over now. Jethro himself, now raised one eyebrow, too, because he simply didn't know what else to do or say. Tony's grin just broadened as his glance landed on Jethro's face again.

"You know," the younger man finally said, still smirking. "You're only half-bad."

"Half-bad?" Jethro challenged gruffly, while he felt actually pretty amused by their interaction.

"Yeah, I mean," Tony continued, leaning over the bar to get a closer look at him. "If you let your hair grow out of that hideous Marine cut and went shopping for decent clothes, you'd be pretty hot."

The older man blinked before he shook his head again. Had he really just called him pretty hot? Had he been called hot by a guy? That had never happened before and Jethro didn't quite know what to do with it. Clearly, Tony was just toying with him, but Jethro realized that he didn't really mind either way. Tony was easy to talk to and apparently a funny man, too.

"Anyway," Tony dragged out the word. "I'll let you be with your beer for a while. Those charming ladies in the back demand my attention."

He waved at them and Jethro turned and nearly choked on his beer as he saw two middle-aged women sit there, clearly drunk and definitely not anywhere near 'charming'. Jethro let out a laugh as Tony rolled his eyes at him as he passed by him before he stopped for a moment and leaned into him, so that Jethro was able to smell his aftershave. It was spicy.

"I should warn you about the one on the left, she's been eyeing you ever since you came in here. If I were you, I'd run."

The older man let out a bark of a laugh as he watched Tony walk over and downed the rest of the beer in one big gulp. He decided to call it a night. If he'd stay here, he was most likely to drink himself into a stupor again and he wasn't too keen on paying yet another cab drive home. Besides, he wasn't entirely sure whether he really wanted to make an acquaintance with that woman in the back, who was now openly staring at him. He gulped, then reached for his wallet and pulled out a couple of dollar bills and placed them on the counter. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Tony walking towards him again.

"You're leaving already?"

"Yeah, wouldn't want to let anyone think I'm alcoholic, would I?"

That elicited another laugh from Tony as he picked up the money.

"Guess not," he answered, giving him a smile. "Drive safely. Was nice to see you again."

Jethro furrowed a brow at that, but didn't bother to answer. He simply nodded at the kid, then turned around and left the bar and with it, Tony, behind.

It wasn't until he was already lying in bed an hour later, staring at the dim light of the bedside lamp, that it occurred to him that he hadn't talked that much to one person and had actually enjoyed it, too, since Shannon and Kelly had been alive.