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Chapter Seven

"Few are those who see with their own eyes and feel with their own hearts."

Albert Einstein


Leroy Jethro Gibbs was generally a difficult man to surprise. Just the same, finding former colleagues Abby Scuito and Timothy McGee standing on his front porch at nine o'clock at night wasn't something he would have expected. If he had, he might have put on a clean shirt. Or at least a pot of coffee.

"Let me guess, you were in the neighbourhood and thought you'd drop in?" he said by way of hello, his voice rife with familiar snark. Anyone who knew him simply accepted it as a part of what made Gibbs, Gibbs. A stranger, or someone he didn't like, would have been greeted with cold indifference.

Tim looked as if he was going to try answering the question, but Abby beat him to the punch, flinging her arms around their retired boss's neck and planting a huge kiss on his cheek. She'd barrelled into him with enough force to push him two steps back into his own living room. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close for a longer moment than he'd intended, eyes closed, enjoying the familiar scent (Abby had once told him it was something called frangipani whatever that was).

Gibbs had barely spoken to the former NCIS forensic technician in the past year, save for the occasional email or a brief phone call. Work, it seemed, Torchwood, kept her busy, although she very carefully never discussed her job with him when she called. That was the least of his bones of contention with Ducky, a man who had been one of Gibbs' dearest, most trusted friends for almost as long as he could remember. He was still dear, still trusted, but the last year had seen another strain on their friendship—only this time it was on Gibbs' end, not the good doctor's. Gibbs didn't like it that Ducky had put Abby in a place where she could get seriously hurt, somewhere where she was going out into the field on a regular basis, carrying a gun, doing the sorts of things she'd never been trained for.

Despite his intention to call Ducky Mallard immediately after Abby had called him to announce that she was a "probie" with Torchwood, Gibbs phoned Tobias Fornell, his third wife's second ex husband, instead. Fornell, aside from making the same mistake he had where Diane was concerned (Gibbs had warned him about her), was a well connected, high ranking FBI Special Agent. Through him, Gibbs was able to glean more information about Abby's new job, her new boss. What he learned made him like the situation even less.

Torchwood was somehow involved in the appearance of the "ghosts" from a few years back and the "incident" at Canary Wharf in London that followed shortly after. Not that anyone knew exactly what the "incident" had been, the British Government was keeping a tight lid on it, but Torchwood had been there, been involved.

There were unsubstantiated rumours that they'd been called in when the River Thames mysteriously drained a few years back—Tobias was inclined to believe the rumour, said he had a friend in UNIT who was there and saw Harkness on the scene, walking around like he owned the place. Tobias was also inclined to believe that Torcwhood operated outside the government, running roughshod over local authorities and even the military. Not that Gibbs wasn't known to colour outside the lines himself once in awhile, but what kind of man would put Abby in the field?

His concerns were eased only marginally when he heard that McGee had been recruited by this Captain Jack Harkness as well. At the very least, McGee wouldn't ever let anything happen to Abby.

"Well come on in," he said when Tim hesitated on the other side of his threshold.

"Thanks Boss—erm—Gibbs. Sorry," he corrected himself, apologizing, doing his best to ignore the rush of warmth that overtook his cheeks.

The older man just smiled; old habits died hard. He would have been a liar if he'd said he wasn't flattered—he just wouldn't say it out loud. "So. What brings you two to D.C.?" he said instead.

Abby answered with a grin: "We have an announcement!" she told him, her eyes flashing wide.

He gave her a speculative look; he glanced at McGee. The younger man looked suddenly sheepish, like he had the first day they met. Abby, naturally, was still talking:

"Maybe you'd better sit down," she advised her former boss sagely.

"All right," he agreed, his trepidation audible as he took a seat on the sofa. She sat down next to him, perching on the edge of the cushion; Tim remained standing, looking nervous, hovering. "I hope you're not waiting for an engraved invitation, McGee," he told him, nodding at the seats still available in the cosy, decidedly bachelor-décor room.

Tim blushed again. "No. No I just… that is…" he cleared his throat. "Abbs?" he prompted her to continue.

"Timmy asked me to marry him!" she proclaimed. "It was so romantic, Gibbs! You should have seen him, getting down on one knee and everything! Oh, and of course I said yes," she added quickly, thrusting out her left hand to show off her ring. It was a large dark red ruby solitaire set in platinum. "Way cooler than a diamond," she intoned with a look of absolute fondness up at the man who had given it to her. "Timothy has very good taste."

"Of course he does," Gibbs said without missing a beat. "He chose you, didn't he?"

She beamed with pleasure at the compliment. Then her expression clouded over… "But… see… Gibbs, the thing is, I asked Ducky to walking me up the aisle. Please don't be mad at me for not asking you, but I couldn't decide between you and Jack and I because I love you both so much, but couldn't have you both so I asked Ducky and he said yes—" her words were tumbling out in a rush picking up speed as she talked.

"Breathe, Abbs," the older man instructed.

"Right." She took a deep breath and let it out. "Where was I?"

"I think you lost me before you showed me the ring," he told her honestly, shooting the younger man a look calculated to make him squirm. It worked. It always worked. But to Tim's credit, he didn't back down, he just laid a hand on Abby's shoulder, giving over a look that indicated he understood Gibbs' ire. The other hadn't head from either of them that they were an item again, he'd had to hear it from Tony DiNozzo that he and Abby were living together—in a one bedroom apartment.

"We started dating again…but I guess that's pretty obvious, huh?" said Abby.

"Gee, ya think?" was all Gibbs said in response.

She ducked her head.

"Well…?" the retired Marine prompted impatiently.

"I guess… after I moved to Cardiff, I didn't really have a place to stay, so Abby let me crash on her sofa for a while," Tim told him, hedging around the entire incident with the alien angel dust, which was the real reason he'd been staying at her apartment. Gibbs didn't need to know about that. "But…I guess… we didn't…that is…like she said, we started dating again," he shrugged helplessly. There wasn't much else he could say. Somehow, none of the few occasions he'd spoken to Gibbs over the last year had seemed the right time to mention that he and Abby were seeing each other.

She nodded, taking the story back over. "Then last week he asked me marry him. We were in Llandudno—that's in northern Wales," she explained in a patient tone, correctly guessing that Gibbs had never heard of the place. "We only had a couple of days off, but it was so beautiful, Gibbs—"

"Wait. You took a vacation?" he asked, looking from one to the other and back again. He couldn't remember Abby ever taking a vacation when she'd worked for him. She never even called in sick. She worked six, sometimes seven days a week doing the work of three lab techs, but the only person she'd ever let anywhere near her lab was McGee and even that had taken time. To call Abby territorial was something of an understatement.

"It was just for a couple of days and we weren't that far away—Wales is pretty small," she said. "If Jack needed us, he'd call. And it wasn't like Bobby couldn't run his own labs for a change—he's the medic on staff," she told him. "He was getting way too spoiled having me around all the time," she said in a smug little tone that suggested the idea of their medic doing his own lab work left her feeling immensely satisfied.

Gibbs blinked. Vacation? Someone else working in her lab and her not blowing up at somebody over it? Seeming pleased about it, even?

"We're getting married in Llandudno, right on the spot where he proposed," Abby went on, seeming not to notice his confusion. "You will come, won't you? Please say yes, Gibbs. It won't be the same without you, I know I asked somebody else to walk me up the aisle, but I need you to be there—"

"I'll be there," he promised quickly, before she could get herself worked up again. Besides, it would mean he'd finally get to meet this Jack Harkness, a man who apparently inspired vacations and shared lab facilities, a man who Ducky spoke of with admiration and affection but DiNozzo described as 'freaky.'

"It's going to be so beautiful," Abby was off again. "The cemetery there—"

"Cemetery?" he queried, looking back up at McGee. "You asked her to marry you in a cemetery?"

Abby answered: "It overlooks the bay and the sun was setting and it was so perfect, Gibbs! We were out on a long walk after dinner our first night there. I didn't know where we were going or what he had planned, I just knew he'd been awful jumpy during dinner," she gave Tim a sly little look. "I was looking at the headstones—then Timmy took me by the hand and got down on one knee and asked me to marry him!"

"You asked her to marry you in a cemetery?" Gibbs repeated the question.

"Saint Tudno's church is over seven hundred years old," Abby told him, as if that somehow explained everything. "People still go to mass there—I really hope the Sisters can make it," she added in a wistful tone.

She was referring of course to the nuns with whom she used to bowl, back when she lived in D.C. She missed them so much…she hoped they'd be able get to Cardiff and stay for a few days at least, and that nothing hinky happened while they were visiting. Slipping an amnesia pill into Tony's hot cocoa was one thing, but she was sure that it had to be a sin to retcon a nun. Not that she was exactly Catholic herself or even particularly religious in the same sort way that most people were, but still, it was the thought that counted.

For his part, Tim held his shudder in check as he imagined what the Sisters would make of Jack. Again. Abby had already decided that they had to all go bowling…

"We have pictures from the trip," she was saying, "if you want to see." She glanced around the room looking a little uncertain. "Except…they're all on a flash drive…"

"Computer's in the other room," said Gibbs, nodding in the right direction. "Help yourself. We'll be right in," he added as he got to his feet. With a look, he had stilled McGee where he stood. "Congratulations," he said, once Abby was well out of ear shot. He held out his hand and waited until the younger man had accepted his handshake before continuing: "And just so you know, if you hurt her, I will break your fingers, McGee," his tone was calm. Sincere. Maybe even a little bit warm, in an odd Gibbs sort of way. It was, in short, exactly what Tim had expected.

"Duly noted, Sir," he assured him, just as sincerely. It was only a marginally less frightening a threat than the one Jack had made and that was only because Gibbs didn't know what a Weevil was.

…………………………………………………………………

The house was quiet when Jack and Jason slipped in the front door. The Captain pressed his finger to his lips, indicating to his son that they should keep it that way. Ianto was probably asleep upstairs. He wished he was home for the night—he was due back at the Hub later, but, barring alien invasion, he could slip out and let Mickey and Sara handle things while he picked his son up from school and stole a few minutes with his husband at home. He got so little time with his family as it was, it was nice to spend a couple of hours together with Jason, even if all they did was sneak in an ice cream cone on the way home from school (before dinner, Ianto would have a fit if he found out).

The boy nodded to the request for silence and set his backpack down before toeing off his shoes and then setting them carefully on the mat next to the door. Ianto could be a real stickler about things putting one's shoes by the door where they belonged. He supposed it wasn't the worst thing his Tad could ask him to do.

"Why don't you go ahead and start in on your homework," Jack said in a hushed tone. "I'll be back down in a few minutes to give you a hand."

"Ok," he agreed, grabbing his backpack in one hand and heading off into the kitchen. He still hated homework but he loved spending time with his Papa, so he was willing to oblige the request. He'd even been a little bit happy not to see Grandma's car in the drive; he loved her, of course, but she had a way of taking over the whole house when she was around. It wasn't her fault, it was just the way she was. But it was nice when it was just him and Papa and Tad and even Seren, even though he would have preferred a little brother to play with. For a little sister Seren was ok, he reckoned.

Jack moved quietly up the stairs and down the hall towards the bedroom. Seren had been up all night fussing…teething. She'd kept the whole house awake. For him, it wasn't so bad, he could get by on a few hours' sleep, but when he'd left this morning, Ianto had looked like death warmed over. If he was asleep, the last thing Jack wanted to do was wake him up.

He stopped bedroom doorway and smiled at the sight before him. There was his Welshman, as expected, passed out in bed—he was propped up against the headboard with Seren in his arms, a discarded bottle lying next to him. Jack watched them silently for a long moment, enjoying the feeling of warmth spread through him… He was just starting to turn and leave them to their nap when the soft sound of a baby fussing stopped him.

He tip-toed over to the bed; she was awake all right. She didn't seem fussy, she just waned his attention.

"How about not waking your Tad up," he said softly, lifting the small child gently from the younger man's arms. He held her a moment, marvelling at the sight. It was hard to believe she'd really come from him… them. He thought about Jason downstairs, all the things he'd missed out on with him, with his first two daughters, Laura's girls. He thought about all the things he'd had…lost… the things he'd thought he never wanted again because it hurt too much… Jack pressed a soft kiss to his daughter's forehead. "I love you so much," he told her quietly, fiercely. Some things were worth the risk of getting hurt over. He glanced down at Ianto again.

He had been so afraid to have another child, afraid of what it would do to their already overcomplicated lives, but he had wanted so badly to give the man he loved just one small slice of 'normal'—wanted selfishly to have a whole year together without having to worry about the Rift. Aliens. He would be the first person to admit that his motives had been less than pure. He suspected Ianto was well aware of that, too; nobody knew him better than his Welshman did.

"Only now I can't imagine my life without you," he said to the little girl in his arms. "Funny how that works, huh? One minute you're cruising along life, thinking you know everything and then suddenly… suddenly everything changes," he told her in quiet tone. "Before I met your Tad I wouldn't ever have expected..." he never would have expected his life to look anything like this, not again. Not ever again. "I guess that makes you one more reason I'm so glad I have him," he told Seren, because he believed, he had to believe, that this time was different. This time he was with someone who really always love him.

He shifted their daughter in his arms so he could pick up the discarded bottle and take it downstairs after he'd settled her back into her crib.

"Cariad…?" came a sleepy inquiry in his ear as he leaned over to get the bottle.

Jack chuckled. "Hey," he said by way of greeting.

"Seren…"

"I've got her. Go back to sleep."

The younger man mumbled something incomprehensible and shifted himself into a more comfortable position on the bed. The only thing Jack could make out was clearly a soft "love you," as he was closing his eyes again.

"I love you too, Sweetheart," he answered, pressing a kiss to the sleeping man's temple. He doubted Ianto would even remember him coming in, but that didn't matter. He cradled their daughter in his arms and took her back to her room. He changed her diaper and tucked her into her crib, wondering if he'd ever been quite as happy with his life as he was in that very moment… knowing he had, but not wanting to remember it because… because this time it'll be different, he told himself.

………………………………………………………

Bobby took his girlfriend's hand as they walked towards the restaurant where they were supposed to meet the others for dinner and drinks. He was feeling drained after the funeral. He'd barely known Kutner, but there had been so many people there, so many people who loved him, cared about him. Only he never saw it. Never realized. Never even thought to reach out and ask for help. House and Amber were right, that made him a selfish bastard and suddenly Bobby was very, very angry at a man he'd barely known…

"You ok?" Wendy asked him quietly.

He opened the door, held it for her. "I will be. Thanks," he leant over and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. "Are you sure you're up to this?"

Across the crowded room, Wilson got to his feet, so they could see him, make their way over—as if Bobby could miss House in a crowd. He wasn't surprised to see him. He glanced back to the woman next to him, the woman who shared his bed, his life, in a way that no one else ever had.

"I think I can handle drinks, Bobby. I'll be fine," she promised. "They're your friends—"

He shook his head. It wasn't that they weren't his friends, it was just that this wasn't his life any more. He gave her hand a squeeze as they made their way through the crowd towards the corner table where his former colleagues were gathered. Foreman and Thirteen…Lisa Cuddy… House… Taub… James and Amber Wilson… Alison. She was giving him a tight lipped smile; he returned it.

"No wonder you stayed in Cardiff," House said by way of hello, his brows raised in a lascivious expression that didn't faze Wendy in the least. Although House had met her via web cam, they had yet to meet in person. He remarked how much prettier she was face to face.

Bobby rolled his eyes. Just a couple of drinks, he told himself. They'd have a couple of drinks, get something to eat and in less than twelve hours, they'd be on a plane headed back home.