a/n: i had a lot of fun with the pregnancy test scene in the last chapter :D

April, 2018
Alexandria, Virginia

"Lemons and Limes"

He'd only been asleep two hours when he heard her up and in the bathroom again, and he shook himself awake abruptly, waiting a few long minutes before he got up and followed her.

He rubbed his jaw, leaning in the doorway and yawning.

"Jen?" he asked.

She made a hoarse noise and pushed her hair back, hanging over the toilet. He sighed and turned to the sink, picking up the cup he'd been using earlier and filling it with cold water. He filled a smaller cup with minty mouthwash and crouched down, waiting until she was done and handing them both to her.

She took the mouthwash first, spit, and then swallowed a little bit of water, her eyes half-closed.

"You get any sleep?" he asked gruffly.

"What time is it?" she asked, wincing. Her throat was killing her.

"Six," he answered.

She nodded a little. She'd been fitfully asleep for the past two and a half hours, until the miserable nausea woke her up again. Her hands shook as she pushed the cups back at him and turned, her shoulders heaving again.

Gibbs frowned, shifting around and sitting down on the floor. He set the cups next to him and leaned against the bathtub, watching her warily. Considering that last time, she had only stayed in bed a little longer in the mornings and gotten irrationally irritated at him for how everything – even things beyond his control – smelled, he was unnerved and concerned about her second experience.

This marked almost an entire week of her being so sick she could barely go two hours without spending one hour vomiting.

She leaned back, moving her head and touching her hand gingerly to her mouth. He reached out and pulled her back slowly, careful not to make her head spin. He handed her the mouthwash and then the water, and as she sat back against him, she spit the mouthwash into the water this time and pushed it away.

"Swallowing is triggering it," she said hoarsely, breathing shallowly.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall on his chest, and he put his palm on her forehead, resting it there lightly and protectively. She took a couple of deep breaths and started to say something – instead, she thrust herself forward and retched again.

He had just enough time to lunge after her and grab her hair.

"Goddamnit," he swore, getting on his knees and then standing up. He spilled the water on accident, but ignored it, staring down at her worriedly. She mumbled something that sounded like an apology.

"No, Jen, don't apologize," he said, softening his voice. "This isn't right," he said aggressively. "You weren't like this last time."

She moaned, and then sat back, leaning heavily against the bath. She took a few deep breaths again and pushed her hair back, her eyes still closed.

"I got lucky," she lamented grimly.

She stayed very still, her lips parted as she breathed, and then she relaxed a little. Her lips trembled. He could tell she was trying not to cry, and he had no idea how to comfort her – the first day, she'd thought she was just having a bad day, but crackers and ginger ale and taking it easy – none of that was helping; she was at her wit's end, and he hated seeing it.

"You're not going in today," Gibbs said shortly.

"I can't take another sick day this week," she protested.

"The Director has a problem with it, I'll deal with him myself," Gibbs snapped.

He crouched back down, and crawled over, pulling her close to him. She licked her lips, and very gingerly rested her head on his shoulder. He rested his chin on her head and wracked his brains for something that might help – this hadn't started until about a month after she'd told him and, unfortunately, two days after her last obstetrics appointment.

The muffled sound of Anna yelling for one of them came from the monitor in the master bedroom, and Jenny groaned pitifully, shaking her head.

"She can wait," Gibbs said diplomatically. "She sounds happy."

"She's always happy in the morning," Jenny noted.

Anna was a calm, happy baby; she rarely woke up fussy or screaming. Jenny wondered if this one would be different – if these mornings, and afternoons, and nights were any indication.

Jenny grit her teeth, and a second later she was vomiting again, taking some small comfort in Gibbs' hands rubbing her back and pulling back her hair.

"Jethro," she managed weakly, when she was done.

He tilted his head to hear her better.

"You need to call in sick, too," she said shakily. "There's no one to watch Anna on Wednesdays and – " she was interrupted for another five minutes, and he sighed, still massaging her back. " – I can't handle her right now," Jenny finished, her voice cracking.

She sat back heavily and squeezed her eyes shut, covering her face and bowing her head. Gibbs tilted his head and pulled her hand away a little, his mind already made up.

"Jen," he coaxed. "Jenny," he said softly. He ran his hand through her hair and squeezed her hand, trying to catch her eye. "Hey, don't worry," he told her. "You're gonna be okay. I've got Anna today," he agreed. He pressed his lips to her temple.

Anna shrieked loudly, this time not nonsense but a very clear and inarguable 'MAMA!' at the top of her lungs.

"I'll get her," he said. "Jen, I'm calling Dr. Lange."

She protested half-heartedly, and then shifted back towards the toilet, leaning over it warily – waiting. He got up and paused in the doorway.

"You want to try that peppermint tea again?" he ventured warily.

She shrugged – it couldn't hurt – and on the way upstairs to Anna's nursery, he put a kettle on the stove to boil water.

Anna was standing in her crib when he walked in, cooing at her mobile and waiting patiently.

"Da Da," she greeted brightly. She reached for him immediately. He swung her easily over the edge of the crib he'd built, kissing her firmly on the forehead and settling her on his hip. She immediately reached for the cell phone he had in his other hand.

"Huh-uh," he grunted, holding it away from her as he dialed. "Mornin', Anna-Bees," he said warmly, smiling at her. He made a scrunchy face. "Mama isn't feeling good."

"Mama," Anna repeated. She stretched and smiled expectantly. "Want Mama."

"She'll like to hear that," Gibbs murmured, holding the phone to his ear. It took a while for Dr. Lange's office to answer, and they said she was at Bethesda, so he was transferred there.

He carried Anna to the kitchen to get her a morning snack in the form of a bottle, watching the kettle boil. It was best to give Jen some space – she liked his support, but she also didn't like being smothered, and he knew she felt terrible.

"Dr. Lange speaking," Hetty answered finally.

"Lange," he said gruffly, the military getting a hold of him. "It's Jethro Gibbs."

"Oh, hello, Gunny," she said pleasantly. "Is Jennifer alright?"

"Uh," he said. "Hetty, she's had mornin' sickness pretty bad this past week. She can't keep anything down."

"Nothing?"

Gibbs nodded his head warily, turning the stove off.

"Hi," Anna piped up, waving. She recognized the phone, and knew what it was for. "Hi," she repeated brightly. "Hi. Hi!"

"Shh," Gibbs hushed gently, bouncing her a little. He held the phone between his ear and shoulder and poured the tea. "Yeah, she's tryin' to grin and bear it, but she's not good," he said flatly.

Dr. Lange made a sound of consternation.

"Is it possible she's got food poisoning?"

"Nah, Hetty, I think it's pregnancy related."

"She is at a point where morning sickness would kick in most heavily," Dr. Lange said frankly. "But you say it's worse than it should be."

"Think so."

Gibbs now balanced his daughter, a mug of tea, and the phone, walking slowly back towards the bathroom. Jenny was still curled up near the toilet, her elbow on the edge and her face pale.

He crouched and handed her the tea. Anna tried to scramble away from him, but he held her tight, listening to Dr. Lange talk. He moved the phone away from his mouth a little.

"She wants to know if you've lost any weight," he reported gruffly.

Jenny took a slow breath.

"I'm pregnant. It's not a point in my life where I step on scales."

"She's making jokes," Gibbs told Dr. Lange dryly. "She's not thinner," he added, his own assessment.

"Terrible comment to make within earshot, I'm sure," Dr. Lange laughed – right as Jenny glared at him tiredly.

Gibbs listened again.

"Jen, you remember the last time you ate a meal? More'n rice or somethin'?"

She started to answer, shook her head negatively, and started to throw up again.

"Oh no," Anna whined. She looked at Gibbs earnestly. "Sick. Mama sick."

He nodded and kissed her again to soother her, trying to focus on the doctor and keep an eye on Jen.

"You feel like fainting?" Gibbs prodded.

"I feel like death."

Gibbs repeated her verbatim, and Hetty made a thoughtful noise.

"I've just finished a delivery in Bethesda," she stated. "Let me finish up here, and I'll drop by your home on the way back to my office. She may need to be admitted for intravenous nutrients," Hetty decided matter-of-factly.

Gibbs hesitated.

"How bad is that?" he asked warily, trying to keep his voice relaxed for Jenny's sake.

"Jethro, unless she's bleeding, I'm sure she's going to be quite alright. Miserable, it sounds like, but this does happen," Hetty assured him.

He swallowed and nodded, thanking her and hanging up. He sat down and crossed his legs, holding Anna in his lap loosely and watching as Jenny sat back, pressing her fingertips to her temples.

"What am I throwing up?" she asked hoarsely, her brow wrinkled. She had barely been able to eat for the past week, her stomach felt hollow and her throat and abdomen were sore from heaving.

"Hetty's comin' to check you out," Gibbs grunted. He nodded. "Try and drink the tea," he said. "'M gonna go get Anna breakfast," he said.

He gave her a sympathetic look as he got up and took Anna back into the kitchen, settling her in her high chair.

"Da Da," she said conversationally. She dropped her bottle on the floor and held out her hands to him. "Marshy!"

She meant Luck Charms, and Gibbs went to get them after he'd strapped her in, holding his phone to his ear to make one more call.

By the time Hetty arrived, Jenny had risked leaving the bathroom and was sitting at the kitchen table carefully inhaling the scent of her tea without daring touch it. Anna was playing on the floor near her, somehow sensing she should keep quiet, and Gibbs was hovering.

"No bleeding?" Hetty checked, matter-of-fact right way.

"No," Jenny said, loathe to move her head in anyway. She swallowed slowly. "Hot flashes," she revealed grimly, "but no temperature. I've been checking."

Hetty nodded critically.

"Yes, I suspect you've developed a mild case of hyperemesis gravidarum," she said.

Jenny winced, and made a small groaning noise.

"Not to worry dear – mild is the key word," Dr. Lange said. "It shouldn't last, either."

"What's she s'pose to do?" Gibbs asked gruffly. "Can you give her something?"

"I want you to give her a couple of hours to buck up," Dr. Lange said, "and then bring her into my outpatient clinic. My practice partner is a midwife, and she's very good at finding a regimen to deal with this."

"IV?" Gibbs asked.

"You're right in telling me she hasn't lost a worrisome amount of weight," Dr. Lange decided. "I'll hold off on nutrients just yet."

Gibbs nodded, standing to see her out. He clarified a few things, thanked her again, and returned to the kitchen, where he sat down next to Jenny.

"You let me know when you're okay to be in a car," he said.

"Anna," she protested.

"I'll ask the neighbors to watch her for a bit," he promised. "They love her," he reminded her.

He reached out and ran his hand over hers, lacing their fingers together. Anna got up and walked over to his knee, blowing him a kiss and smiling. Gibbs grinned at her, trying to find a way to distract Jenny, lighten the mood.

"You were much easier on Mom," he said brightly.

"Yeah," Jenny said thickly, her voice raw, "I think I'm getting a two for one here."

Gibbs gave her a wary look. She happened to turn her head, saw the look on his face, and managed a smile, laughing tiredly. She pursed her lips, licking them before she spoke.

"I meant I'm getting the Anna morning sickness with this one," she said – she hadn't meant twins. "God."

She fell silent.

"This is freaking me out, Jethro," she admitted after a moment.

He picked Anna up and held her in his lap, smiling when she rested her head against his chest and watched her mother with her smart blue eyes. He ran his thumb over Jenny's knuckles, staying silent a moment.

He was unsettled, too, so he didn't have much confidence in blowing off her worry or downplaying it. He knew she felt awful, he had already figured out there was almost nothing he could do, and he found himself wishing they could skip to the part where they could tell people –

"You think Jackie or Ziva might have some advice?" he ventured.

"It's only nine weeks," she said stubbornly. "I'm not – we're not," her voice cracked. "If something's wrong, we're definitely not telling people this early."

"Jen, Hetty said it was healthy last week," he placated. "She's not worried – "

"Well, fuck Hetty – she doesn't have children – she's not vomiting her guts out, she's not scared," Jenny broke off, tears spilling out of her eyes.

Gibbs looked taken aback at the strong language. He looked down at Anna – he half expected her to repeat the swear word, but she didn't, and he quickly reminded himself his life wasn't an R rated movie.

Jenny hid her face and muffled a sob, and choked out a miserable apology.

"This part was in our vows, Jen," he said bluntly. "Better or worse."

He thought it might make her feel a little better, and judging by the way her cheeks twitched up some, it did. He smiled, relieved, and bounced Anna on his knee. He squeezed her hand one more time and stood up.

"Go sit on the back porch, get some fresh air," he suggested. "Or go back to bed. You start feelin' half better, come get me and I'll take you in," he said.

She nodded, wiping her face and still looking down into her untouched mug. He patted her shoulder supportively and then carried Anna with him up to the nursery to play – he'd entertain her some, talk to her about the new baby, even if she still didn't seem to get it – but most importantly, he was going to steal Jenny's iPad and try to figure out some secret, obscure way to help with nausea.

The midwife, contrary to Hetty's thoughts, did recommend giving Jenny intravenous nutrients, just to be safe. He said there was little to worry about – and confirmed Hetty's diagnosis of the mildest complication – but he thought the nutrition and energy would help Jenny's morale.

He also prescribed something for her, and gave some common recommendations for dealing with nausea – and said she'd probably have more luck than most women with the condition and shake it off around the start of the second trimester.

While she was hooked up to an IV in the outpatient center, Gibbs went to get her prescription filled and picked up Anna from the neighbors', killing a little time on the scenic route so Jenny would be ready to leave when he got back.

"Da Da," Anna kept saying, talking to him incoherently from her baby seat. She'd babble nonsense, though she spoke an English word or two here and there. "Sick, sick," she said. "Da Da, baby."

He looked at her sharply.

"Is that a new word?" he asked gruffly.

She tilted her head back and forth at him, and then waved one of the toys she'd been clutching.

"Baby," she repeated.

He nodded.

Yeah," he reiterated. "You been listenin'? Huh? Smarter than we think?" he asked. "Mama's having a baby."

"Baby," Anna cooed blithely.

Gibbs grinned. He parked the car outside the clinic, and was about to get out when his phone rang. He glanced at it, considered ignoring the call, and then answered.

"Dad," he said neutrally.

"Leroy, m'boy!" Jackson Gibbs greeted. "You holdin' up okay?"

Since Anna had been born, his father had been starting conversations like that. And Gibbs, now given to playing along instead of aggressively defending his fatherhood – he was pretty secure at this point – answered –

"No. Sold 'er to gypsies."

Jackson laughed, and Gibbs waited for him to go on, figuring he'd called for some significant reason. When Jackson didn't say anything, Gibbs cleared his throat.

"You okay?" he grunted.

"Doin' just fine," Jackson answered. "I's callin' to see when you and that pretty wife of yours are gonna show up next week," he said. "Can't be too soon. Been too long since I've seen my granddaughter."

"You saw her at New Year's."

"Four months ago!"

Gibbs groaned and shifted, turning back to stare at Anna. He didn't begrudge his father time with the little girl, he'd just completely forgotten they were supposed to go to Stillwater for Easter.

"Dad," he began.

"Don't you back out on me, Leroy."

"Dad," he said shortly. "Listen to me. I'm not backin' out exactly." He grit his teeth. Jen didn't want anyone knowing yet, and he wanted to respect that, but his relationship with his father was excellent these days, and he was family, so – "Look, Jen's pregnant again," he said flatly.

"Hell, really?" Jackson exclaimed. "I'll be damned! You ain't even been back a year!" he laughed.

Gibbs said nothing, and his father sobered.

"You don't sound so thrilled, son?"

"We're excited," Gibbs said dully. "She's havin' a hard time," he admitted. "Mornin' sickness wiped her out. I don't know if she's up to the trip."

"That's different," Jackson said immediately. "You bein' lazy and her bein' in a bad way are two different things. Little one okay?"

"Anna's fine."

"Other little one."

"Oh – yeah, she's healthy, baby's okay," Gibbs grunted. He paused. "She's about nine weeks."

His father sounded elated, and Gibbs let himself be happy for a moment, grinning at Anna.

"We're tryin' to get Anna to understand," he told Jackson. "You'n' her the only ones who know."

"I'll keep it quiet 'til Jenny's clear," Jackson promised. "You go on – keep me updated, though, Leroy," he said sternly. He hesitated. "She needs rest, but if she needs help with the baby or she's feelin' better, you let me know and I'll come to you."

"I'll talk to her," Gibbs promised. "She'd probably like that," he admitted – they couldn't both be taking sick days, and Jenny would enjoy having Anna around without having to chase her, if Jackson was there to help.

"Hey," Jackson said suddenly. "Your mom, when you made her sick – she'd suck on frozen fruit, limes and lemons," he advised. "Try that."

Jackson wished them well again, and Gibbs hung up, hurrying out of the car this time and unbuckling Anna. He headed in and straight back to the room where Jen was – where she looked slightly better, more colourful, and was listening to some instructions from both the midwife and Dr. Lange.

She even felt up to taking Anna and snuggling her while Gibbs handled discharge papers.

"I want to see her again before she goes back to work," the midwife said firmly. "I actually think this might be a case of her getting worse because she was dehydrated. Not many women perk up like she does just due to IV fluids," he told Gibbs. "She may have had a bad bout, and then got sicker for intervening reasons."

That sounded like a relief to Gibbs, but he wasn't ready to bank on it yet.

"I'm giving you a recipe for ginger tea, and for milk bread," the midwife said. "Things to ease her back into eating. Then graduate to bananas, applesauce, et cetera."

Gibbs nodded. He turned to help Jenny, but she was standing. Glaring at her, he took Anna. She walked out with him, her eyes a little brighter.

"'M gonna stop by the store and get this stuff," Gibbs said, shaking the recipe paper. "You can stay in the car with Anna, keep the air on."

Jenny shrugged.

"I'm okay walking. I feel better – "

"Rest," he said, glaring at her menacingly.

He managed to make her laugh, and held the car door for her, quick to buckle in Anna and get the car and the air running. He paused, and turned to her, his face reluctant and apologetic.

"I told Dad," he confessed warily. He nodded his head at her abdomen.

She frowned. She sighed.

"Jethro, I know it's the second one, but it's still better to wait – "

"I know, I know, and 'm not tellin' the guys," he groused wryly. "He called askin' about Easter. I told him you might not be up to it … didn't want to lie to him."

"I forgot about Easter," she mumbled, leaning back. She closed her eyes, looking sad. She nodded slowly. "You're right, Jethro," she admitted. "I don't want to travel, even if I'm better next week," she sighed.

"He recommended you suck on – "

Jenny sniffed and shot him a look.

"—frozen fruit … what the hell was that for?" he said, finishing and glaring at her.

She looked sheepish.

"Nothing, that's not what I thought you were going to say."

He stared at her, and then grit his teeth.

"You think I'm thinkin' about sex at a time like this?" he demanded.

She closed her eyes as if dismissing him, and then arched one brow.

"Are you?"

He opened is mouth to protest furiously – he'd been trying to help – but then he grit his teeth, starting the car aggressively and muttering to himself.

"I am now," he growled, defeated.

That evening, after two pieces of toast and a half a mug of ginger tea, Jenny was curled comfortably on the couch watching one of her television shows. Gibbs had wrapped a bag of ice in a washcloth and given it to her for her head; she was feeling sick again, but hadn't started throwing up.

The medication she'd been prescribed seemed to be working.

"Anna-Bee," he said softly, coming out of the kitchen with a beer in his hand. "It's almost bed time. When Daddy finishes this beer – "

"Jethro, that smells vile, get away from me."

He had been about to sit on the couch at Jen's feet, but immediately bolted up and stepped way, obeying. He'd do anything to avoid triggering her vomiting, and he felt guilty for even thinking beer would smell good to her.

"What should I – "

"Water," she snapped.

He meekly went about doing so, pouring the beer down the sink – it would be ruined anyway.

"Jen, you want some of this fruit?" he asked, catching sight of it.

"Mmm," she murmured. "Yes," she managed. "My mouth is watery."

"Lemon or lime sound more appealing?"

"Lime."

He cut her up a couple of hard slices and put them in a little cup. He'd just handed them to her when there was a quick knock on the front door and it swung open – and only one person ever came into their house like that –

"Colonel," Gibbs said out of habit, blinking in surprise.

Jenny's father glared at him, shutting the door.

"General," he growled pointedly.

"Jasper," retorted Gibbs, rolling his eyes – he routinely forgot about the Colonel's promotion, because he'd always just been the Colonel.

Jenny looked up and over the couch, lying back down slowly. She murmured hello softly, and then gently reprimanded Anna for something.

"What are you doing here?" Gibbs asked warily.

"Had a meeting in Langley," grunted Shepard. "Thought I'd stop by and see my favorite Banana."

He came forward and crouched, holding his arms out. Anna caught sight of him and scrambled up.

"Pa!" she squealed, short for Grandpa. She dashed to him and he swept her up, standing and cradling her close. She giggled and beamed at him as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"What've you been up to, pumpkin?" he asked gruffly.

Gibbs turned a light off in the kitchen, leaving only the TV and a lamp on, and the Colonel looked around. His brow furrowed, and he looked at Gibbs' narrowly, and then approached the couch.

"Jennifer?" he asked.

She raised her free hand, busy holding a lime under her nose with the other. The Colonel sat Anna down on the back of the couch, holding her so her legs dangled near Jenny and her back pressed against his uniform.

Jenny closed her eyes.

"Dad," she said tightly. "You smell like aftershave."

He took a few steps back, Anna in tow, – he didn't wear it, but he must smell like the cologne all those pricks at Langley had been wearing. He sniffed his shoulder and then went to stand by Gibbs.

Jenny smiled at him wryly and closed her mouth on a lime, swallowing some of the juice tentatively.

"I'm being punished for carrying Anna so well," she drawled dramatically.

The Colonel looked at Gibbs, and Jenny sighed, defeated.

"You can tell him," she said.

Gibbs grinned, taking Anna from his father-in-law.

"We're havin' another baby," he said smugly.

The Colonel's first reaction was to grin, then he seemed to remember he was supposed to react more aloofly than that, and he composed himself, glaring at Gibbs.

"Didn't waste any time, did you?" he demanded loudly. "You let her breathe a minute before you – "

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Daddy," Jenny muttered under her breath.

The Colonel blustered a moment, and then smiled, and then – frowned. He turned to Jenny. He eyed her critically for a moment, and then approached slowly, cognizant of his alleged smell.

"Is somethin' wrong?"

She sighed half-heartedly, inhaling the scent of another lime.

"Morning sickness," she said tiredly, "has kicked my ass."

Her father nodded, and then hesitantly sat down on the couch. He found her feet under the blanket she was covered in, and patted her comfortingly.

"Look at it this way, kid," he said earnestly, "this time, you have some bad luck at the beginning. Don't scare us all," he advised.

Gibbs tilted his head. That was a good thought – she'd had such a miraculously easy pregnancy with Anna, it was no wonder the delivery had gone south – it was more promising to think if she struggled a little this time –

He came over, sitting Anna on the couch like the Colonel had and leaning down, so he and the baby were the same height. They surrounded Jenny, and the Colonel snorted, giving Gibbs a smug look. He turned to his daughter.

Jenny looked unconvinced.

"I'd rather hemorrhage again than – "

"Jen," Gibbs said in a low voice.

She fell silent, and gave him a look that indicated she took it back. She knew how badly that had scared him; she shouldn't joke about it.

"Hey, if it's any comfort, that Princess lady had this same problem, back when she was havin' kids," Jasper said.

Jenny arched a brow.

"Kate Middleton?" she asked hoarsely.

"'M sayin' childbirth is an equalizer," the Colonel said loftily. "Except she gets to be Queen someday and you just get this idiot." He jerked his thumb at Gibbs, and Gibbs glared at him.

"Stop doin' that in front of Anna," he growled.

Anna put her thumb in her mouth, and turned her face into Gibbs' chest. Jenny smiled and tickled Anna's foot.

"Jethro, nothing Dad says will turn this baby's head against you," she murmured, and then kicked her father weakly. "I doubt Prince William spent four hours on three failed batches of milk bread before he got it right just to make sure his wife could eat something neutral."

Her father looked impressed, and gave Gibbs a nod. He sat back, looking at the TV for a moment, and then cleared his throat.

"Congratulations, you two," he said. "Is it a boy?"

"It's only nine weeks," Jenny said, rolling her eyes, at the same time Gibbs drawled: "Yeah."

She sighed, and shook her head, putting another lime to her lips. Her father smacked Gibbs lightly in the back of the head for her, and Jenny tilted her head, stroking Anna's curls, coaxing the baby to look at her.

"We don't mind either way, do we, Anna Abigayle?" she murmured softly.

She remembered the struggle of boy's names, and half-hoped it was another girl; at least they'd already been down that road, and had favorites.

Anna beamed at her, and Jenny leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead. Gibbs caught her eye and smirked, and Jenny ignored her father's glare for a moment, silently grateful that this time Gibbs was going to be around uninterrupted – she was getting the distinct feeling that their jobs were going to get harder.

April, 2018
Alexandria, Virginia

thanks (in a sad way) to Kate Middleton for inspiration, and here's to hoping the Duchess feels better soon!

-alexandra