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He looked across the bullpen at her. She was working with Tony at his computer, her face scrunched in frustration. Gibbs couldn't tell if the frustration was directed at the computer or at Tony. All of a sudden, her hand came up and landed a perfect Gibbs head slap. Must've been Tony, he thought, smiling. She caught his eye across the small space and winked. God she was beautiful, he thought for the millionth time that day and about the trillionth time since they'd started this crazy relationship three weeks ago. Three weeks and nothing had changed. He still wanted her with all the intensity of their first time. He loved talking to her. He loved not talking to her. She still respected his space and, at times, he almost wished she would invade it. Sometimes, he almost felt like she gave him too much space. He found himself wanting to call her every night, just to see what was running through her head. He was scared that it was almost too good. But it was only three weeks, he thought. What would three months bring? Another head slap caught his attention and he looked up at Tony. He saw his senior field agent ducking as Lizzy took another shot at him. She grabbed her paperwork and stomped over to her desk. She must've heard it coming because she turned around just in time to catch the Nerf football that was zooming towards her head. She grabbed it and slammed it back at an unprepared Tony. Gibbs just shook his head and turned to answer his phone.

That damn DiNozzo, she thought, as she slammed her papers down on her desk. Irritating as hell. Pretty package but couldn't go 30 seconds without an aggravation. She shouldn't have head slapped him. Ok, maybe once but probably not twice. She stared at her computer, hoping that the information on the Lt. would magically appear. To her. Not magically appear to DiNozzo. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Gibbs. She thought back over the past three weeks and a smile crept across her face. She was glad that she hadn't let him go. She still couldn't believe that she told Gibbs no. She hadn't even given him a vote. But he certainly isn't complaining, she thought. She watched him hang up the phone and walk out of the bullpen. Her eyes followed him up the stairs and into MTAC. Confidence, she thought. He was a man of confidence and convictions. And he was sexy as hell. The team, if they suspected, had said nothing. But she was pretty sure they didn't even suspect. She and Gibbs had kept it professional at work. Not even a stolen kiss on the elevator. But there were ways and they had found them. Her screen beeped at her and she turned her focus to the words in front of her.

Gibbs opened the door to MTAC and walked out. He wasn't mad, for once. Any conversation he had with the toothpick lately seemed to end in a helluva fight. But this time, he couldn't have been happier to let the FBI handle it and that was saying a lot. He liked to throw Fornell a bone every once in a while. He was sure the team wouldn't mind knocking off early. He walked back to his desk and sat down, yelling at the team to go home before he changed his mind. He reached across his desk to turn his screen off and noticed a yellow post-it note attached to his desk. The only thing on the yellow post-it note was a single green M & M and the words 7pm. He grinned and looked over to smile at her but she was gone. She hadn't even waited to walk out with him. But the smile never left his face. He knew he would be seeing her soon. He wondered, as he walked to the elevator, what kind of home cooked meal he was getting tonight.

***

"Pizza," she said as she spread out paint swatches on the coffee table. "The 'Skins won yesterday so we get a Papa John special."

"Pizza?" he said as he hung his coat over a kitchen chair. "Isn't that my speciality?"

"Hey. I have cooked for you every night you've been over. I've slaved over a hot stove for days on end to just to please you. You don't think I deserve a break?"

He had to laugh at the look on her face as she sat on the floor, between the coffee table and the couch, surrounded by color samples. He walked over to the couch and sat behind her, reaching out to massage her shoulders as he dropped slow kisses on her neck. Her hair was still up in that damn ponytail she was always wearing to work. He tugged gently at her scrunchie and her hair fell to her waist.

"You make a decision yet?"

"Naah. Ziva said I should do earth tones, Abby said pink and black, McGee said plain old white and Tony…. Well, I'm sure you saw the head slaps. I didn't even ask his opinion."

"It's your office, in your house, what's the big deal?" Gibbs asked, shaking his head.

There was a knock on the back door and she moved to answer it but he pushed her back down.

"I'll get it. You just keep…" he waved his hand at all the colors, "…not choosing."

"My wallet is in my purse on the counter."

"I said I got it," Gibbs said as he walked towards the door.

"No, damnit. You know the rule. Your house, you pay. My house, I pay. My wallet is in my purse on the counter."

Gibbs knew better than to argue. He grabbed her purse off the counter. He hated purses. Small ones, fat one, ones with too many pockets, ones with not enough pockets… He found her wallet on the first try and went to open the door. The pizza boy was standing there waiting, pizza in hand.

"That'll be $15.23."

Gibbs opened her wallet and extracted a twenty dollar bill and handed it to the boy. He set the pizza on the counter as the boy was making change. Gibbs handed the pizza guy a few dollars for a tip and shut the door. He opened her wallet again to put the change in it and noticed her pictures. He smiled at the first one. Lizzy and her dad were at the marina with a boat and a bottle of champagne, grinning from ear to ear. He flipped to the next one and found one of her and Abby in a photobooth. A few more of the team and he flipped to the last picture. It was a newborn baby. A little discolored, a little different but ten fingers and ten toes. He wondered… He looked at Lizzy who was still intent with her colors. He pulled the picture from its case to get a better look and another one fell out behind it. He leaned over and picked it up, noticing the writing on the back before turning it over. Mama's boy, it said. May 30, 2001. Gibbs flipped the picture over to see a much younger Lizzy staring back at him, holding the baby in her arms. He held it closer. It was the same baby, he thought. He hadn't heard Lizzy get up but suddenly she was beside him.

"It's me," she said quietly.

"And the baby?"

"My beautiful baby boy," she said as she took the picture from him and stared at it for a minute.

"I didn't know you had a kid," Gibbs said, examining again the picture of the baby.

"I don't. Not anymore."

Gibbs was almost sorry he asked. He couldn't imagine giving up his child for adoption. The circumstances must have been terrible, he thought.

"Jonathan David. He was beautiful and…" she let out a long sigh, "he was mine."

She put the pictures in the wallet and threw it back into her purse. She walked back over to the coffee table and started clearing off all the paint cards.

"I'm sorry, Lizzy," he said as he came up behind her and put his arms around her waist.

"There's nothing to be sorry about and don't apologize. Sign of weakness, remember?"

"Not always," he said softly, taking her hand and leading her to the back porch. The stars had just started popping out and he sat on the chaise lounge and pulled her down with him. She situated herself between his legs with her head against his chest, feeling it rise and fall with every breath. His arms reached out in front of her and found her hands, intertwining her fingers with his. She wondered if she should tell him. She would have gotten around to it eventually. And she knew he would understand. He had lost Kelly. She had lost Jonathan. Yet another reason she felt so tied to him. She wanted him to know. And it had gotten easier over the years to talk about. Still… the pain never leaves. She took a deep breath and spoke.

"In 2001, I got pregnant. I think the father actually left before the blue lines even showed up on the test. He was scared. I was too."

She shifted a little in her seat and Gibbs continued to hold tight to her hands, knowing that this probably wasn't any easier for her to talk about than him talking about his girls.

"Mom and Dad were excited. Not thrilled, but excited." She paused and took a long deep breath. "When I was six months, I had terrible pains in my side. Turns out, I had appendicitis. They had to do emergency surgery or I would lose the baby."

Gibbs knew to listen, not talk.

"A month later, I hadn't felt the baby move in a couple of days, so I called the doctor. They did an ultrasound and couldn't detect a heartbeat."

He heard her voice catch and he let go of her hands to wrap his arms around her waist.

"So after 24 hours they induced labor and I delivered. It was a stillbirth. I was seven months to the day."

Gibbs sat a little straighter in the chair. He leaned in and buried his face in her neck. He felt the surge of his own loss coming quickly to his throat and tears threatened his eyes. She had lost a child. Just like he had. Another connection. Her pain was different. She didn't let it eat her alive. Like him.

"The hardest part was delivering a child that I knew would never cry, never scream, never take a breath… They put him in m arms and I waited and waited for him to cry. But it never came. Seven months and 30 some hours of labor and I walked out of that hospital empty handed."

She moved away from him and stood. She walked to the porch rail and looked up at the sky.

"He would have been 10 this year. I would have had a fifth grader."

Gibbs left the chair and came to stand next to her. She moved into his embrace and stared up at him.

"I got through it, Jethro. I grieve once a year and think about him the other 364."

"You would have made a good mother," Gibbs said as he brushed a wisp of hair from her face. "It wasn't your fault."

She gave him a curious look. He shrugged his shoulders.

"That's what they always told me…after the girls died."

"Did it make you feel any less guilty?"

"Nope. It actually made it worse," he said, pulling her closer to him, needing the warmth she always provided.

"It took me a few years to be at peace with what happened, to not be angry with God, to not be angry with myself…," she said. "The only thing that still floats around in my brain is a question that no one can answer."

"Is there anything anyone could have done?"

"No."

He tilted her face so their eyes met, and he held them there, waiting.

"I always wondered if the pain would have been any worse if I had just gotten to hear him cry one time. Take one breath. Smile at me one time. Would it still hurt the same?"

Gibbs almost answered her, knowing full well the pain that had ripped and tore his soul apart over the years. He had gotten 8 years of Kelly's life. He had memories, no matter how hard he tried blocking them. He couldn't imagine not even getting the chance to know your own child. But she had figured out a way to move on. To heal. A way to make the life she had now worth living. He still had yet to find that road. So he was silent.