Jan 22
It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.
J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, 1997
Despite the chill outside, the church was strangely warm. Away from the arctic wind and the constant threat of snow, the stone walls provided a measure of protection and comfort, in more ways than one.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs was never happy when a case connected with a church. His investigator side worried about conspiracies of silence, of confessions to priests that could not be disclosed, and religious fanatics. On a more personal basis, he disliked disturbing their sanctity with such base matters as murder.
The church had been supportive of him during difficult times in his life. His second divorce came to mind and he fought the urge to smile. The deaths of his family. Then, the padre had provided comfort, reassured him that they were safe now.
The aisle was narrow and he walked softly, ignoring DiNozzo's stomps which disturbed the peace. The padre was out on a house call. No answers for him here today.
His eyes stopped at a small collection of candles, patiently burning in front of a shrine to the Virgin Mary. He paused, not reacting when DiNozzo crashed into the back of him, and altered course to carry out his task. A candle. The lighter he always carried in his pocket. Thoughts of Shannon and Kelly and a quiet prayer for them.
To his credit, DiNozzo did not comment on their temporary stop and remained silent on the way back to the car. Gibbs forced his mind away from his family and back to his job. He could dwell another time.