The engagement ring looked and felt strange on her right hand, but tradition decreed that the ring finger of her left hand should be bare. Besides which, she'd replace the diamond solitaire to its rightful position after the ceremony. Smoothing down her skirts, Kensi turned and took one final look in the mirror.

"The headdress isn't too much?" It was surprisingly heavy, but encased her in a heady floral scent.

"It's perfect," Allison said, for at least the tenth time. The coronet of lilies of the valley, orange blossom and gypsophlia was the perfect crowning touch on top of the loose curls that flowed down Kensi's back. "Marty isn't going to believe his eyes when he sees you walking down the aisle." Kensi had wanted to look as if she had stepped out of a fairy-tale, and she had succeeded.

"You know all the right things to say, Mom." Her bouquet was on a table by the door, cradled in white tissue inside a white box, it was comprised of the same flowers as her headdress, accented by the dark glossy leaves of the orange blossom, the perfect finishing touch to her bridal outfit. Taking a deep breath, Kensi picked it up and walked through the door, ready to start the single most important journey of her life, the one that would culminate in walking up the aisle to where Marty would be waiting to take her hand so that they could be joined together forever. A myriad of tiny droplets of water, sprayed on the flowers to keep them fresh sparkled in the sunlight.

"Here we go." She smiled at Allison, and for the first time felt the butterfly flutter of nerves.

"The first day of the rest of your life. And it's going to be a wonderful life." Allison kissed her daughter, and thought back to the very first time she had done so – when Kensi had been a tiny, rumped baby, newly born and crying lustily at her arrival into the world. She could still see traces of that child from long-ago in the young woman who stood before her. How many times had she dreamt of this day in all the years that followed? Too many to count, but even in her wildest imaginings had Allison ever envisaged a more beautiful or happier bride. Her heart had never been filled with more love and pride than right now, even if the emotions were tinged with sadness.

"I wish you all the love in the world, darling." She walked slowly behind her daughter and briefly remembered her own wedding day, and all the hopes and dreams she had nursed as if it were only yesterday.

Gibbs and Nell were waiting for them at the foot of the elaborate staircase, along with the photographer.

"I might just be tempted to run away with the bride." Gibbs let out a low wolf whistle and then ran up the final few steps to meet them, before crooking his arm invitingly. "May I have the honour of escorting you?"

The ritual of photographing Kensi's last few moments as a single woman began and then Allison and Nell were carefully putting the veil down over her face, marking the beginning of her transition from Kensi Blye into Mrs Martin Deeks. Nothing was ever going to be the same again

"We'll see you at the church." Allison smiled bravely and hurried towards the waiting limousine, clutching a handkerchief in her hand and leaving Kensi alone with Gibbs.

"You sure about this?" He looked at her keenly.

"I'm sure."

"Because if you're not, it's not too late to change your mind."

"I'm absolutely certain."

Gibbs grinned, and looked suddenly boyish as he did so: boyish and incredibly handsome in his dark tailcoat. "Good. You're doing the right thing." He cleared his throat. "I hope you'll be as happy as Shannon and I were." It still wasn't easy to speak about her, not even after all this time, because Gibbs had never come to terms with her death and probably never would. She had been the only woman he had ever truly loved, the only one he had ever wanted, right from the moment they'd first met, waiting for a bus. It wasn't the most romantic of settings, but where was it written that love could spring up in the most unlikely places?

"I hope so too." Kensi's fingers tightened around his arm. "Thank you for saying that – and for agreeing to give me away." In the absence of her own father, it felt right to have a fellow Marine be the one to give her away. And the fact that her Dad and Gibbs had been friends just made it even more perfect. It was the next best thing to having her own father there.

"It's an honour and a pleasure." And if he shut his eyes for a moment, Gibbs could imagine that it was Kelly on his arm. "Thank you for giving me the privilege." It would be a bittersweet moment, walking her down the aisle, but one he would not have missed. If only it had been Kelly, then it would have been perfect. But Kensi and Kelly had played together as children, and in a way this felt as if it was meant, as if it was completing the circle.

It was nearly time. There was a pearl grey Rolls Royce waiting outside the hotel, bedecked in white ribbons and a driver in uniform holding open the door. As the staff leant out of the windows to watch, Kensi swept down the steps in suitably regal style and stepped into the car, settling her skirts carefully around her, as Gibbs got in on the other side and looked across.

"Are you ready?"

Kensi nodded, her heart in her mouth. This was like being a little girl again and coming downstairs on Christmas morning, full of expectation and anticipation.

"Your father would have been so proud of you." Gibbs would have like to say more, but he didn't quite trust his voice. Sitting beside him, looking so incredibly happy and with the veil softening her features, he looked at Kensi and felt like a father all over again. It was so easy to imagine it was Kelly that it almost tore his heart out of his chest.

It was like looking at himself thirty years ago. That realisation stopped Jack in his tracks and he had to clear his throat several times before he could trust himself to speak.

"I hope you gave the barber a really good tip." The perpetually mussed-up hair had been transformed into something altogether different, and the shorter cut made his son look younger than ever. "He really had his work cut out."

"Yeah, well I kind of reckoned that if I was going to have a haircut, I might as well go the whole hog and have a really good haircut." The last time his hair had been this short was when he was on the beat in LAPD. The moment he'd made detective had been the day Marty had let his hair do its own thing. Still, the trip to the barbers had been worth it. He threw his car keys down on the hall table and took a look at himself in the mirror. "I got my money's worth, didn't I?"

"You certainly did. And you're looking good, kid." Jack clapped him on the shoulder and then shook his own well-groomed head in disbelief. "And you had a shave into the bargain. Kensi's going to think she's marrying the wrong man."

"It'll grow back. The hair and the beard."

"Or you could keep it like that?" Jack suggested mischievously, remembering the little boy who had resolutely refused to have scissors anywhere near his hair.

"No way. You can be the neat one in the family, Dad." A change was all very well, and Marty had no problem with pulling out all the stops today, but there were limits. And shaving everyday was such a waste of time that could be spent doing other things – like surfing or making love to Kensi. He had no doubt as to what was the better use of time. And that reminded him…

"I guess I'd better go and start getting ready." At the foot of the stairs, Marty paused and turned around. "You want to come keep me company, Dad? We could talk."

They still skirted around one another with the lingering awkwardness that a long separation brings, a separation made worse by the circumstances and the intervening deaths of Chris and Maryanne, and the knowledge that they while they might love one another, in reality they were still virtual strangers, tied together by memories and guilt.

"I'd like that." Jack stood a little straighter. There was still time. "I'd like that very much." There were things he had to say, things that he had put off for far too long. He walked up the stairs and was aware of Maryanne's portrait looking down on them, watching over them.

I miss you, Maryanne. And I'll never forgive myself for what I did to you and our family. But Mikey turned out well, didn't he? I hope that you can see him today and you're as proud of him as I am.

Maryanne smiled down serenely, just as she always did.

Okay, the wedding is getting closer, and evil plot bunny is safely shut up in the garden shed. As long as he doesn't attempt to burrow his way out to freedom everything should be just fine. I think...