Memorial Day

by Ilovenascar

Jethro Gibbs stood at attention, watching the flag-covered coffin be buried at Arlington National Cemetery. After all, where else would one expect the director of NCIS to be buried? He stood silently cursing Vance and the fact that he'd gotten what he wanted. Vance's death wasn't being ruled a suicide, but 'accidental', about as accidental as Jenny's had been. Nothing had been revealed about his activities and, more likely than not, nothing ever would. There were still whispers, rumors, about what Jenny had been up to with La Grenuoille. Vance's family, his wife and little girls, cried near his open grave; he hadn't been able to shed a tear while he'd watched Jenny's casket enter the cold ground. His body cringed at the shots fired, thinking of how many bullets had flown around the café in that desert. Two burials of NCIS directors in a year, but they couldn't be more different. He felt his sister squeeze his hand, standing between him and DiNozzo. He'd insisted that all his agents be there, show proper respect to the office, if not to the man himself. Abby had refused to come, playing her jazz music all week out of respect for Jenny, and Ducky wasn't in town, but the rest were there, even Franks. His old friend met his eyes before going back to the coffin, everyone biding their time until they could leave.

After the burial, each went home for a few hours, since it was a holiday anyway, Memorial Day. Gibbs thought of the box he'd buried of Kelly's things, always thinking of all his lost loved ones on Memorial Day, not just the men and women he had served with. He thought of Kelly, Shannon, Ryan, Kate, but most of all, he thought of Jenny.

He remembered the last time he'd had any sort of real conversation with her before the shooting. He'd conned her into watching a kid from one of their cases, Carson, and hadn't seen her that relaxed in years. He'd come over to the house to check on the kid and stayed until the boy fell asleep. He'd walked downstairs with Jenny, almost fooling himself into thinking once again what it would have been like to have a family with her. Maybe that was why they'd said what they had. It had been far too late to discuss anything of the sort with her, too late at night and too late in their lives. Their courses were already set, had been since they were in Paris.

"Once upon a time I would have asked you to stay and I wouldn't have taken no for an answer."

"No."

"What happened, Jethro?"

"You made a choice."

"I had to do what was right for me. I still do."

He had done what seemed right for him at the time, stayed behind that day, let Ziva and Tony go with her as bodyguards. He knew the conversation would go to Paris again, something neither of them needed. He had chosen to let her two favorite agents go with her, the only two he really trusted. He knew they still blamed themselves. Neither had ever really recovered from the shooting; no one had. Ziva had put in a transfer back to Israel after Vance's death and Tony was attending AA meetings once a week. Even he himself had changed without Jenny; he felt like detached from his body, like he wasn't really there.

He looked at the stairs, seeing Franks coming down. "Nice of you to come to the funeral."

"I thought maybe I could drive a stake through his heart. See if he was really dead." He paused, looking Gibbs square in the eye. "I'm only gonna ask you this once, probie." He paused again. "Did you kill Vance?"

Gibbs shook his head. "No. Do I wish I had? Yeah." He paused. "I guess I can burn that now," he said, looking at Vance's file of misdeeds.

"You could spread it around Washington, leak it to a paper. It might help get her name cleared around here."

"You spend too much time with her. Starting to sound like her," Gibbs said, half-smiling.

Franks paused, looking uncomfortable, and then looked straight into his eyes, handing him a plane ticket. Gibbs studied them and then his friend. "Is she okay?"

"Jasper." Gibbs grew pale, his eyes widening, as he ran upstairs to get packed.

*****

Gibbs' body was tired after the flight from Washington to Marseille, even more so as he looked at how much the city had changed since he and Jenny had lived there. He didn't even think that he would recognize the place he and Jenny had been undercover for so many nights in a row, where they'd first made love. At any other time, he would have gone to see if he could still find it, traveled on the Corniche, visited the familiar beaches, but he had a mission he had to fulfill, a duty to his partner that he wouldn't abandon.

He got a rental car and drove to the address on the paper, half-smiling to himself as he saw the small house with a garden that Jenny had called home for the last year. He left his bags in the car, locking it, as he walked up the small path to the front door, knocking, seeing a petite brunette answer the door. "Je cherche Jenny Shepard." The woman looked doubtful at him. "Je suis son partenaire."

"Jethro," a familiar voice sounded, Ducky walking out of the darkened hallway. "Marie, il va bien." He led his friend away from the housekeeper.

"How bad is it, Ducky?" Gibbs asked worriedly.

"It won't be long. She's being strong, but she hasn't left his side for over a day."

Gibbs' eyes closed. "She already lost him once." He ran a hand through his hair. "Is she awake? I need to see her."

"He's sleeping more and more; I told her she needed to rest while he does. She's asleep." He hesitated. "Go on in, just…don't wake her." He knew he didn't have to tell Gibbs that, but he'd tried to protect Jenny as she healed from her gunshot wounds and as her father lost his battle with cancer. He felt like she was his own daughter now.

Jenny had her eyes closed, her breathing evened out. Her body hurt from being in the chair for so long but she couldn't leave him. She remembered thinking that she was going crazy, the Russian telling her that her father was still alive, the scotch on her desk. She remembered him coming to her after La Grenuoille died. At the time it seemed cruel, telling her that he was alive, just to tell her that he had a fatal brain tumor, but she'd realized that she'd been given another chance, to be a daughter, to have a father, to say goodbye. When she'd been shot, it had been Gibbs, Ducky, and her father who'd taken care of her. She wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for them. She missed Jethro so badly that she hurt, wished he could be there with her. They talked almost constantly on the phone, but phone calls weren't the same as seeing his grin or feeling his arms around her.

"Special Agent Gibbs! On the job, it is Director Shepard or ma'am." He had been so close that she could still smell the coffee and sawdust, remember the warmth of his presence.

"Okay, what about off the job?"

"There won't be any 'off the job', Agent Gibbs."

"That's too bad…I missed you, Jen." It was that same grin that always found her getting in trouble in more ways than she could count.

"Don't make this difficult, Jethro."

"Fair enough. Won't happen again, Director." He had, they both had, made things difficult too many times to count.

"We can continue this conversation in private." And they had, again too many times to count, but it always ended the same way.

"Jethro," Gibbs heard her whisper his name in her sleep as he entered the room, seeing a completely different scenario than he'd expected. The last time he'd seen Jasper, he'd looked much the same as he had in the picture he'd dug up during the La Grenuoille episodes. It had been Jenny in the bed that time, Jasper beside his daughter, holding her hand. Jenny's hair was longer, halfway down her back if she didn't have it up, and although she looked like she was physically healed, she still looked frail and tired.

He heard her call his name again and kissed her forehead. "I'm here, Jen. I'm right here with you."

Jenny's eyes opened and she looked up at him, taking a moment to realize he wasn't a dream. "Jethro."

"I'm here, Jen. I'm here." He sat beside her on the ottoman near her chair, studying her.

"How?" She was still in a daze, in awe of him actually being there.

"Franks told me. I just left." He hadn't told his sister nor any of his people where he was going, although he was sure they could all figure it out. He'd never felt comfortable telling them where she was, but they all knew that she was alive, that she'd survived the brutal gun battle that day. He kissed her forehead. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Too damned stubborn," came Jasper's raspy voice, opening his eyes to see the man he considered his son-in-law sitting with his daughter.

"Now is that a nice thing to say?" Jenny asked, trying to smile for him.

"It's true. You've always…always been as beautiful as your mom, but as stubborn as your old man." He looked at Jethro for backup.

"Would've made a good Marine, made a hell of an NCIS agent." He teased her, watching her color slightly before turning his attention back to Jasper. "How are you doing, sir?"

It was obvious from his face that he liked the 'sir' being tacked on. "I'm dying."

"Dad…" Jenny started, reaching for Jethro's hand.

"It's the truth, Jenny girl. No sense denying it." He paused. "When's the last time you ate?"

"I'm not hungry, Dad," she said, shaking her head.

"Jenny, I would like to talk to Jethro," he said more plainly.

Jenny looked doubtful, looking at her dad, at Jethro, and back at her dad, nodding before leaving the room. Both men watched her leave before turning their attention back to the other. "You'll take care of her for me?"

Gibbs nodded. "Yes, sir." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "As much as she'll let me."

"And even if she doesn't. Don't let her do anything dangerous or foolish. Take care of her."

"I promise." Jasper nodded, starting to gasp for air and Jethro moved to the door quickly, calling Jenny back into the room. She took her chair back, Gibbs taking the ottoman again, and both sat there, Jenny holding her father's hand, even after they felt what was left of Jasper Shepard leave the room.

*****

Jethro sat on the side of Jenny's bed, brushing back some of the long red hair from her face, leaning down to kiss her temple. When she'd finally left her father's side, she'd crashed hard, sleeping for what seemed like days but was really hours. He'd helped Ducky clean Jasper up, deciding what to do with him. He'd found instructions, along with a letter to Jenny, on Jasper's nightstand, detailing his desire to be buried in France, on the property. He had dug the hole himself, had called his people, had his sister bring the coffin Jasper had asked him to make. Ducky had prepared the body and instructed Marie to cook, something for Jenny to eat when she woke, and something for the team to eat when they arrived.

"Jethro?" Jenny looked up at him, her eyes as red as her hair, opening her arms for him to crawl into, which he did.

"You okay?" He asked, holding her, kissing her forehead.

"Tired. Very, very tired." She paused. "I think I am. He was sick for so long, in so much pain…and he's not now. I knew it was coming. At least I got to say goodbye this time."

"The team's coming. They want to be with you."

She half-smiled, biting her bottom lip. "They don't have to do that."

"They want to. They've missed you." He paused. "I miss you, Jen."

She nodded. "Ducky told me about Vance. I can't say I'm sorry." He had blackmailed her out of her position, threatening to tell what he thought was the truth behind La Grenuoille's murder. "Jethro…there's something I have to tell you."

He studied her very seriously, stroking her cheek. "What's that, Jenny?"

"La Grenuoille…" She started.

He grimaced. "Jen, it doesn't matter. The past is in the past. It doesn't matter right now, honey."

"Jethro, would you listen?" She looked into his blue eyes and then, finally, told him the truth. "I didn't kill him."

"I know you didn't," Gibbs said truthfully. "Jasper did." He saw the look in her eyes. "Your dad told me. When we first brought you here. I can't say I don't wish you would have told me, but I can say that it doesn't matter." He paused. "I let go of that hurt a year ago. Realized that I'd rather have you, regardless of who did what to whom, than let you go."

"I don't know what I want to do now. I hadn't really let myself think about 'after'. It's funny…before the shooting, all I cared about was that 'I' had finally made 'director'." She emphasized her title. "Now it just doesn't mean as much."

"You need time, Jen. Time to heal." He wrapped his arms around her again. "And whatever you decide that you want to do, I'll be there…if you still want me."

Before she could respond, there was a knock on the open door. "Anthony called. They're leaving Marseille now."

"Thank you, Ducky," Jenny's soft voice sounded in the quiet, dark room.

"Marie's prepared food," he said, inferring that she needed to eat.

Jenny nodded, getting up, wiping her eyes, Jethro seeing the ring he'd placed on her finger the last time he traveled back to the States. "I need to get dressed."

Gibbs nodded, going out with Ducky, closing the door behind him. "Is she okay?"

"She says she is." He paused. "You should rest."

"After the funeral. When Jen does." Ducky nodded, knowing better than to argue.

*****

Jenny emerged in a black dress and heels, wearing the necklace her father had given her when she started NCIS and the ring Jethro had given her. The weight she'd lost was evident to all her team. Abby Scuito approached first, hugging her small frame. "Thank you, Abby," Jenny whispered quietly to her, hugging her back.

Jamie Gibbs approached her 'sister', hugging her gently. "Jen, I'm so sorry."

"Jamie…" Jenny paused. "Thank you."

After McGee greeted Jenny, without a hug, Jamie looked at her brother. "Jen, why don't we go back inside?" Jenny nodded, allowing Abby and Jamie to walk her back inside, leaving the agents with Gibbs.

"Boss?" Tony asked, not questioning, just waiting.

"Let's move it inside." He and Tony each picked up an end of the wooden casket, carrying it inside the house, to the room where Ducky waited.

*****

It was a simple funeral, not at all the full-fledged military honors Vance had received only days before. Jenny stood between Abby and Jamie, Ducky and McGee standing behind them after helping carry the body out to the house. Tony and Gibbs lowered the coffin down into the ground, allowing Jenny to drop the first handful of dirt, her eyes on Gibbs'. She stood there, holding the girls' hands, her eyes closing as she heard the dirt hitting the wood coffin that Jethro had handmade at her father's request. It seemed so final as she knew this time he wouldn't be coming back home.

They went back inside after the service and Marie had the food laid out in a buffet style. Jenny finally managed to make her way to Tony, catching him, her eyes holding him still, making him stay instead of running away as he had for a year. "Tony…I'm sorry."

"Never apologize…"

"It's a sign of weakness," she finished for him. "Not this time. The shooting…it wasn't your fault. If you and Ziva had been there, you couldn't have changed anything. It might even have gotten you killed. I never would have wanted that."

He shifted, choosing his words carefully. "I felt like I let you down, like I let Gibbs down again."

"You did everything right, Tony. You both did." She paused. "You didn't let him down. You could never do that." She paused again. "How are the meetings going?"

He looked at Jamie who smiled at him, her blue eyes lightening a little bit, and then back at Jenny. "I'm doing good. I'm sorry about your dad." She nodded in silent thanks. "You look like you're doing much better than the last time I saw you. Are you moving back to Washington?"

She caught Gibbs' eyes as he looked worriedly at her. "It's something I have to talk over with someone."

*****

As everyone settled into the small cottage for the night, Jenny and Gibbs slipped away alone together, heading outside. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on top of hers. "You still doing okay?"

"Tired, but I'm going to be okay," she turned to face him, her body against his.

"How'd your talk with DiNozzo go?" He knew she felt as guilty about Tony's problems as the agent did about her getting hurt.

"He's worried that he let you down."

"If I had gone with you, none of that would have happened," he said honestly. "I never should have assigned you to them. You're my responsibility."

She looked into his eyes, pulling away slightly. "Responsibility?"

"I misspoke." He looked at her. "You're my partner. You're my responsibility just as I'm yours."

"You asked earlier if I wanted you here." He nodded. "I don't care. I don't care if you're here or I'm there. I just want to be with you. I've spent too long running, hiding, away from you…I want to be with you."

He held her hand, looking at the ring he'd given her, the stone matching her eyes. "I told you when I left the last time that the next time I came, I'd ask you a question to go with that."

"Jethro…"

He studied her, still holding her hand. "I realize my timing isn't the greatest in the world, but there's never going to be good timing with us, unfortunately." He paused. "I love you, Jen." He tried to think of exactly the right thing to say and finally spoke again, "You complete me."

"You were asking a question?" She said, trying not to cry, thinking of the words he'd just said 'you complete me'.

"I know this sounds ridiculous, but…I want to marry you. I want to wake up every morning and have you beside me. The last thing I want to hear before I go to sleep is your voice and not on a damned phone call, but with me…" He couldn't explain it.

"Jethro…" She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I don't believe in divorce. Not with us. If we're doing this, it'll be for better, for worse."

"For richer, for poorer," Gibbs added.

Jenny thought of Gibbs' coma and her own shooting. It was a miracle they were alive, but they had been with each other through it all. "In sickness and health."

He couldn't say 'til death do us apart', remembering how death had parted him and Shannon, the only woman he'd loved as much as he loved Jenny. His greatest fear was that death would part them too. Instead, he simply said, "Forever and ever, Jen. Forever and ever." She nodded, their eyes connected, still holding on to each other.