A/N: For Ncisali. Enjoy all the fluffy Jibbs-y goodness and have a very merry Christmas! RM
Lost and Found
by OrphanActress818
for Ncisali
"Director Shepard!"
The muted clicking of heels across the expanse of carpet covering the floor of the catwalk stopped as NCIS Director Jennifer Shepard pivoted expertly on one 4-inch black stiletto to face her slightly flustered assistant.
"Yes, Cynthia?" Jenny inquired, gesturing to the younger woman to walk alongside her as she resumed her trek to her office.
Cynthia flipped quickly through a thick manila folder as she hurried to keep up with her boss.
"Um, I got an email from SecNav's secretary saying that he wouldn't be able to look at the request you put in until after the holiday season and I tried calling Lt. Commander Wilson's office just now, but he's out too and…"
"Figures," Jenny snorted, interrupting her.
"Anyway," Cynthia continued with an amused smile, "I could go on with all the other emails and memos I received from any one of a dozen offices, but they're all pretty much the same—nothing gets done 'til after Christmas."
By this time, they had reached the director's office and Jenny took the folder from her assistant's hands, waving absentmindedly at Cynthia to have a seat at the glass-topped conference table that dominated the room.
She read through two or three of the papers before her neatly manicured nails began tapping the tabletop, a sure sign of impatience.
"Well, how the hell do they expect anything to get done if they go and take off a week before vacation time even starts? I know I sent in several of these notices at the beginning of the month!"
The redhead's voice had escalated dramatically by the end of her tirade. Cynthia, in her wisdom, stayed quiet as her boss scanned several more of the documents in the folder before handing it back with a sigh.
"You might as well go home Cynthia. It doesn't look like there's going to be anything more to do until after New Year's and there's nobody else left in the building anyway."
"Are you sure, Director? I'll stay if you're going to," Cynthia told her worriedly.
Jenny smiled fondly at her. "Don't worry about me. I'll be leaving soon anyway."
"If you say so," Cynthia conceded, her tone slightly disapproving, belying what she really thought about her boss' work habits.
"Merry Christmas, Director."
"You too, Cynthia."
The moment she was alone, Jenny let her shoulders drop and set her elbow on the table, resting her head on her palm.
oOo
Three hours later, the first female director of an armed federal agency finally shut down her computer and shoved the remainder of the paperwork on her desk into her briefcase. After quickly downing the remainder of the bourbon in her glass, she grabbed her coat, intent on heading to her townhouse and going straight to bed.
As she shrugged the thick black wool over her shoulders, she frowned. Something was off. Had there always been a weight in the left pocket?
Reaching slowly into the pocket, Jenny felt her hand close around a medium-sized velvet box. She pulled it out and stared at it. A small scrap of paper had been tied around the box—a scrap of paper that contained only three words in a familiar scrawl.
'I found it.'
Curious, Jenny opened the box and gasped.
It was a necklace. An oh-so-familiar necklace.
oOo
NCIS Agent Jennifer Shepard giggled and punched her partner in the shoulder.
"I can't believe you just said that!" she gasped through her laughter, smiling wider as his chuckles joined hers.
His arm came around her shoulders as they crossed the crowded Parisian street and didn't drop after they had reached the other side. Jenny, for her part, snuggled into his embrace as they walked comfortably, her flip-flop clad feet unconsciously matching his stride. Suddenly, she stopped.
"Jethro, look!" she exclaimed from where she was standing transfixed in front of a small jewelry shop.
"What is it now Jen?" her partner asked exasperatedly, moving to stand beside her.
"Look, right there," she said, pointing to a delicate silver necklace resting in a blue velvet case.
"It's pretty," Jethro Gibbs commented, then turned to face her. "But Jen, you do realize that you really don't need another necklace, right?"
"I know," she sighed, taking one last look at the ornament before stepping away.
"Hang on," her partner said, grabbing her arm. "I know there's a 'but' coming."
She stood for a while, simply staring down at her toes before meeting his questioning gaze.
"It looks like my mom's," she whispered.
Gibbs looked at the necklace again, this time more closely. It really was beautiful. The chain was crafted entirely of infinitesimal links that flowed gracefully to meet the small, teardrop-shaped diamond that hung from the center of the necklace. It was a fairly simple design in comparison to those surrounding it and, from the looks of it, had probably been sitting in the window for quite some time without being able to catch the eye of any passerby.
"Jen," Gibbs said softly to his partner, who was once again staring at the necklace.
She looked up at him through huge green eyes.
"We really have to check in with the director now, but I promise we'll come back and buy it tomorrow, ok?"
"Thank you," Jenny whispered. Gibbs said nothing, but pulled her gently into a hug as they resumed walking.
They'd returned the next day to find the display case empty. Stepping into the shop, they'd been informed by the salesgirl that the necklace had indeed been purchased only the day before. It was handcrafted, she'd explained, and another could not be expected before Christmas.
But their assignment would be over by the end of the summer. Christmas was too late.
The beautiful necklace that looked exactly like the one Margaret Shepard had been buried with was gone.
oOo
Jenny sighed and touched the necklace again, an unconscious gesture that seemed to be turning into a habit, as she lay on her bed. She knew that this would probably be one of the only times she could get a decent amount of sleep, but her mind was refusing to shut down.
The minute she'd recognized the necklace, she'd slipped it out of the box, fastened it around her neck, and hadn't taken it off since. It sparked memories of the happy times she and her mother had shared so long ago. Unfortunately, the gift had also come with reminders of a past relationship and now, as her fingers toyed with the chain around her neck, her mind was plagued with thoughts of the man who'd given it to her.
Should she thank him at work or go to his home? Should she get him something in return? But what could she possibly give him?
As she pondered these questions, she found herself slowly drifting off.
oOo
The morning of Christmas Eve dawned cold and clear, skies a perfect pale blue and slick pavement glistening with ice.
Inside of her study, curled up in an armchair with the fire burning high, Jenny Shepard toyed with the handle of her coffee mug, her mind whirling as it tried desperately to solve the one riddle she'd never been able to figure out.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
The man was nothing but a puzzle—a confusing, time-consuming puzzle with a thousand pieces that never seemed to fit together no matter what she tried. And now she was faced with the dilemma of presenting him with a gift as precious as the one he'd given her.
But what in the world could he possibly want?
Sighing tiredly, Jenny hoisted herself up off her chair, wincing slightly as she heard her knees crack, and swallowed the last of her coffee.
Maybe it was time to ask for a little advice.
oOo
Jenny shivered, hunching her shoulders in an effort to draw her coat closer to her body. The cemetery always seemed so much colder than the rest of the world, but now the temperature was almost unbearable. She crouched down beside her mother's grave and, ignoring the cold, pulled a trembling hand out of her pocket to rest it on the polished stone.
"Hi, Mom," she whispered.
Then, ever so quietly, she began to tell her mother everything from the moment she'd joined NCIS until the present. Everything important in her life she'd neglected to tell the one person who'd ever really listened to whatever she'd wanted to say.
It was over an hour later before she finally ran out of words. Jenny pushed herself up from the cold ground and surreptitiously shook out her legs, which had fallen asleep long ago and were now tingling with pain. Tucking her hands more firmly in her pockets, she turned to go. Though she still didn't have a resolution to her pressing dilemma, she felt slightly lighter.
She took a few steps before stopping abruptly. That man, the one standing barely fifty feet from her, looked awfully familiar. But, surely there were several people in D.C. with silver hair and a black coat and that ramrod straight posture and…
Oh God.
Jenny mentally slapped herself. How on earth could she have forgotten? He must be here visiting Shannon and Kelly.
All of a sudden, she found herself bombarded with a whole new set of questions. Should she go up to him? Would he want her intruding on his private time with his family? But, if she left now, would she ever get the chance to get him to open up? If she left now and he saw her, would he call her back?
Before she'd even had the chance to consciously acknowledge her decision, her feet were already propelling her toward him.
Coming to a stop just behind his left shoulder, she stood quietly. Though she knew with certainty he had long since heard her coming, she also knew he would greet her when he was ready. Or not…
About a minute later, his blue eyes were boring into hers.
"Jen," he stated simply.
She felt herself practically vibrating with tension. This was so not on the list of things they taught you in college.
"Jethro, I-I just wanted to thank—"
"You're welcome," he replied before she'd even had the chance to finish her sentence.
They once again stood in silence, gazing down on the two slabs to slate-gray stone that marked his painful past.
Unbidden, Jenny found herself whispering, "What were they like?"
oOo
The sunlight had just barely begun to peek around the gray clouds of what would surely be a gorgeous winter day, when all of a sudden, the peace and quiet of the morning was shattered by a piercing noise. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Kelly Gibbs shrieked, bursting into the room. Without a moment's hesitation, she leapt onto the bed and started bouncing excitedly on her parents' the only reply she received was a noncommittal grunt, she let out an exasperated sigh and repeated her mantra.
"Wake up!" she bellowed into her father's ear. He shot up immediately, eyes automatically sweeping the room. After confirming that the only danger within the area was his 7-year-old daughter, he flopped back onto the bed with a sigh, burrowing his head in the pillow in an attempt to stifle Kelly's giggles.
"Da-addy!" she singsonged, "You have to get up now! It's Christmas Eve!"
This time both parents groaned.
"Great," Gibbs muttered, "She woke the whole damn neighborhood up and it's not even Christmas yet."
"Shhh," Shannon whispered, "Don't let her know that! Think of how much worse it could get tomorrow."
Right on cue, her husband closed his eyes and pulled his pillow over his head.
"Go back to sleep," he commanded the little girl perched precariously on his stomach.
But that little girl merely snatched the pillow from her father's head and started whining anew.
"You need to get up and make waffles, Daddy. You promised!" Kelly's face was scrunched up in a perfect pout, her voice such a beacon of innocence that Gibbs immediately felt guilty, like somehow everything in the world was his fault.
Even if he had nothing to do with Kelly disrupting said world at just before six a.m. on one of the most prominent vacation days of the year.
"Oh, get up Jethro," Shannon finally sighed, yawning loudly before sliding rather ungracefully out of bed, almost winding up face down on the floor, "Make her her waffles. It's your own fault. You're the one who promised her yesterday."
"Yeah, but yesterday I didn't know I'd have to wake up at the crack of dawn so that this kid wouldn't supposedly starve to death," Gibbs grumbled. He, too, stumbled as he dragged himself out of bed.
Kelly, for her part, simply sat and giggled, clapping her hands occasionally at her parents' antics.
The minute Gibbs stepped out of the bathroom, she threw herself at him.
"Waffles," she demanded before sticking both her arms up. Her father obligingly swung her onto his shoulders, but not before giving her backside a swat. Her mock howls of pain could be heard by any and all who happened to be up at the hour.
After Kelly had gotten her waffles, the rest of the day had been spent in mad dashes to various stores for last minute gifts and the drafting of Kelly's letter to Santa, which she had, as usual, failed to complete early.
oOo
Gibbs shrugged as the memory of that long-ago Christmas Eve day faded from his mind.
"Normal. Shannon was your average military wife. Never complained when the Corps came first. And Kelly was just like every other little girl—small, bubbly, hyperactive."
Though his words were nonchalant and vague, Jenny could see the hint of a contented smile on his face as he thought of his family and knew that, to him, they were much, much more. That didn't come as a surprise to her. What did, however, was her reaction to that thought. He'd obviously loved his first wife and daughter more than anything else. And, though they were long gone, Jenny was ashamed to note that she was jealous.
She was jealous of a woman that hadn't been alive for almost twenty years.
Suddenly, she realized that maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up in a ball and cry. Not for the fact that Shannon and Kelly were still the driving force in Gibbs' life, but because she could have had that too. She could have had the beautiful, over-energetic daughter and a lifetime of Christmases spent Gibbs-style.
But all she'd had to look forward to for the holidays was a huge, empty house and a visit to the local graveyard. Could life get anymore pathetic?
She was unaware that she'd begun shaking until an arm came around her shoulders and held her tightly.
"You okay, Jen?" Gibbs asked.
"I'm fine," she replied stonily, trying desperately to stop her body from trembling.
"Totally fine," she repeated.
"C'mon," Gibbs said as he led her to the gates, "I'll drive you home."
"B-but your car…" Jenny stammered, unable to stop her teeth from chattering. Why was she so damn cold all of a sudden?
"It's fine," he told her firmly, "I'll come back and get it later."
She didn't question him again as he slid into the driver's side of her car, peeling out of the parking lot and expertly navigating his way through the mid-morning traffic at a stomach-churning speed.
oOo
"Here," Gibbs said, unceremoniously handing his boss a cup of burn-all-the-skin-off-the-roof-of-your-mouth coffee as he sat down at the kitchen table next to her.
Jenny hesitantly took a sip and promptly sputtered.
"Th-thanks."
"Uh-huh." Gibbs took a large gulp from his own cup, not seeming to notice its bitter flavor or the way it must have burned while going down his throat. Jenny winced.
"Goin' somewhere?" Gibbs asked after a few moments.
"No…?"
"No decorations," Gibbs said gesturing with his coffee cup, "No tree. No presents piled up in a corner."
"Haven't had much time," Jenny mumbled, staring down into her coffee, "I've got a ton of paperwork to fill out before—"
"No, you don't," Gibbs interrupted.
Jenny looked up angrily, "And how the hell would you know, Agent Gibbs!"
Gibbs just shrugged. "Don't."
He met her eyes over the rim of his cup as he took another sip. After a brief staring match, Jenny felt her anger dissipate only to be replaced by the same sadness that had overwhelmed her earlier.
"You know," she said quietly, "I don't think this place has been decorated since my mom died."
Gibbs nodded as if he understood.
"When'd she die?" he asked casually.
Jenny's mouth had opened to answer before she closed it again, the political side of her sensing a bargain beginning to unfold.
"I tell you…if you tell me one thing about Kelly," she offered.
"No Shannon?"
Jenny could feel her right eye twitching slightly. "Sure. If you want to."
Gibbs smirked. Damn! She'd been caught.
"Saw that, Jen," he said, but didn't elaborate. Jenny breathed a discreet sigh of relief as he seemed to ponder her request.
"She loved horses," he told her after a beat.
"When I was ten," Jenny shot back.
"Long time," Gibbs remarked, draining the rest of his coffee before scraping his chair back from the table and standing up. Jenny merely nodded and watched him through her bangs as he rinsed his mug out in the sink.
All too suddenly, he was beside her.
"You sure you're okay," he murmured.
"I'm fine," she said as she rose from her chair a tad more gracefully than he had, intent on showing him to the door.
The moment she was fully standing, she realized her mistake.
He'd been standing closer to her while she was sitting than she'd anticipated. Much closer. So close that when she stood up there was barely an inch of space between his body and hers, and that was with her back digging painfully into the edge of the table. As the seconds ticked by, Jenny was horribly aware that all she had to do was lean forward just slightly and she'd be flush against him.
Looking up, she saw that Gibbs was staring down at her with his most impassive expression, almost like he was waiting for her…
Slowly, she lifted one small hand and laid it on his shoulder. Millimeter by millimeter, she felt herself tipping toward him.
Suddenly, her phone rang, shattering the moment. Jenny blinked several times, freezing in mid motion before gesturing hopelessly at the phone on the counter. Taking the hint, Gibbs took two steps back, leaving her with large enough path to cross the room without being forced to share body space.
After ensuring the caller that no, she was not interested in changing cable companies, she turned back to a rather amused looking Gibbs.
"Well, ah…" Jenny trailed off and ran a hand through her hair, "I guess you'll be going then."
"Looks like it," Gibbs replied, making no move toward the door.
"Right," Jenny nodded.
They both stood and stared at one another for another minute, neither taking a single step in the direction of the front door but both feeling slightly awkward with the room's tension.
Both spoke at the same time.
"Do you want me to help you with—"
"Do you think you could help me with—"
"Decorations," they finished, this time in unison.
oOo
It was almost eight hours later before Jenny's house had been transformed into a winter wonderland magical enough to rival the ones of her childhood. Fake ivy dotted with sprigs of holly trailed down the banister, candles in old, slightly tarnished silver candlesticks gleamed on every end table, wreaths and chains hung from lampshades and chandeliers, and the tree stood proudly by the fireplace in the living room, almost seeming to sag under the weight of hundreds upon thousands of lights, garlands, and ornaments.
It was more beautiful than she could ever remember it being.
Jenny flopped down on the couch, utterly exhausted. The past few hours had been among the most tiring and entertaining she'd had in…well, a long time. She hadn't even realized how much she'd missed this until Jethro had stubbornly dragged her up to the attic, not content with the few boxes of lights she kept in a downstairs cupboard. Of course, once he was there, he'd insisted on looking through every box and they'd wasted over an hour flipping through her old yearbooks and completely disarranging several years worth of carefully preserved elementary school artwork that she hadn't even known she still had.
And now, after the job had finally been completed, she was sitting and waiting for the man she'd known for almost ten years to finish stuffing the last of the empty boxes into a hall closet so she could drive him to the cemetery to pick up his car.
The man she'd known for almost ten years and hardly knew at all.
Jenny fiddled with her necklace as she realized that, after today, he knew almost everything there was to know about her, including her exploits as a third-grader and exactly how many clubs she'd been a member of in high school, but she still knew nothing more about him other than the fact that his daughter had liked horses.
A quiet voice interrupted her cerebral ramblings.
"All done here, Jen?"
"Mm-hmm," Jenny said, standing up quickly, "It all looks so beautiful. Thank you, Jethro."
Gibbs didn't answer. His gaze was fixed firmly on the pendant still in her hand. Reaching out, he gently removed her hand from the stone and replaced it with his own. Turning it this way and that in the light, he examined it carefully.
Letting it drop after a moment, he made sure he caught her eye before saying, "It looks pretty on you."
Jenny could feel herself blushing but chose to ignore his comment. "It's exactly the same as the one we saw. Where did you find it?"
"Mentioned it to a friend," Gibbs said with a slight wave of his hand, as if it was no big deal, "He said he'd seen it somewhere. Showed me a picture a few days later, looked familiar enough, so I bought it. Figured you wouldn't mind too much; nine years late ain't that bad."
Her laugh seemed to reverberate throughout the entire house.
"Nope," she agreed, still smiling, "Ain't that bad at all."
Aimless chatter stemming from the subject of the necklace and onto memories of Europe passed the time from when they left Jenny's doorstep to when they arrived at Gibbs' car. Parking smoothly behind it, Jenny cut the engine and turned to face her former partner.
She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear nervously before clearing her throat.
"Um, Jethro, I was thinking that since the house is looking absolutely gorgeous and I really can't stand to let it all go to waste, that…maybe, I could call a few people over tomorrow night and we can all…well, I don't exactly know. But since its probably only going to be your team and Abby and Ducky and Palmer, we should be able to come up with something. Anyway, I was wondering if—"
"Maybe," Gibbs interrupted. Jenny smiled gratefully. Thank God one of them had the sense to cut off her stuttering before she said something completely idiotic.
Gibbs returned her smile before opening his door.
Just before he could slam it shut, however, Jenny called out, "Thank you again, Jethro."
Peering back into the car, he saw her once more playing with her necklace. Reaching across the passenger seat, he grabbed her hand and pulled it toward him.
Looking her directly in the eye, he said, "No, thank you."
Then, ever so deliberately, he brushed his lips over her knuckles, keeping his gaze locked firmly on hers the entire time.
Before she could fully comprehend what was going on, he'd let go of the door he'd been holding open with one foot and was already striding to his car. He unlocked it quickly before starting it up and pulling out of his parking space, definitely slower than the speed he'd been going at earlier that same morning.
With a grin, Jenny started her own engine and raced after him…in the opposite direction of her own home.
oOo
"Oh, come on Gibbs," Agent Jenny Shepard whined, "I'm not a probie anymore. I think I can handle being undercover for one night without blowing the whole damn mission!"
"Jenny!" her partner exploded, "Not the point! We're not just dealing with one 'bad guy' here. Ya think Morrow would send us all the way across a goddamn ocean if it was just one guy?! We're here for a reason, Jen. L.A., Nashville, D.C., London, and now Paris—these are all connected!"
"Wow, you must really think I'm an idiot," Jenny spat, sitting down on the bed to fix the buckle on one strappy heel, "In case you haven't noticed, I worked the scene with you in D.C. and I read all the damn files you practically threw in my face! More than once! I. Know."
"Which is exactly my point," Gibbs hissed, "You are not going out there unprepared."
"I'm not," Jenny replied archly, "You're going to be there the whole time, breathing down my neck, making me feel nervous about every single glance every single person in the entire place is giving to another person, being—"
"We need a code." Gibbs interrupted her, stopping at a mirror to straighten his tie roughly.
"Okay…"
"Alright," he said facing her, "So, we're supposed to be a couple, right?"
"Right."
"So, whatever we do has to look normal, right?"
"Right…"
"So, think Jen!"
"I am!" Jenny protested, hopping up from the bed and pacing around the room. "Okay, so what if a gesture with a glass means 'this person looks suspicious' and—"
Gibbs cut her off. "Too obvious."
Jenny bit her lip then offered, "Rearranging silverware? With the table we have reserved, we should be able to point a knife at anybody in the room and not have it in a position that looks too weird."
Gibbs nodded, "Good. What about when we separate? You're at the bar with someone who looks like a potential suspect and you want to call me over, or vice versa."
"Tap the countertop near your drink twice," Jenny answered promptly.
"We need to get out of the building fast?"
"Touch your hand to your knee."
The two exchanged scenarios and signals for the next ten minutes before Jenny threw her arms out with gusto.
"Brilliant!" she exclaimed, "That's anything we could possibly ever want to 'talk' about."
"Not quite," Gibbs told her, "One more."
He smiled as his partner's nose crinkled slightly. He could practically see the wheels in her head turning as she tried to figure out what she could have missed.
Finally, she sighed, "Just tell me Gibbs. I really have no idea other than 'I have to go to the bathroom'."
"Sometimes, undercover's go wrong," Gibbs lectured, "I need you to be able to trust my judgment on a moment's notice if we have to wing it."
"Okay," Jenny said.
"You have to promise to do everything I tell you to do," Gibbs warned her.
This time, Jenny hesitated a moment before answering.
"Promise," she finally told him with conviction. The look of excitement that had been in her eyes not twenty minutes ago was now replaced with a grim understanding.
"So, Boss," she said, trying to sound cheerful, "What'll it be?"
Gibbs crossed the room to where she was standing. Meeting her eyes, he reached out and grabbed her hand. Then, ever so deliberately, he brushed his lips across her knuckles, keeping his gaze locked firmly on hers the entire time.
"And that means…"
"Follow me."