"What?" asked Tony groggily as he opened his eyes. "Oh, we're here!"

"That's what I said," said Gibbs.

"Welcome to Netley Green, Gibbs," said Tony.

"I know where we are, DiNozzo. I drove us here."

Tony squinted at the driver, "Been too long since you had coffee, I guess? Come on, we'll put that right."

Tony jumped out of the car and walked up to the front door which opened before he could knock,

"Mr Anthony," said the middle aged woman who had seen his approach.

"Pondie, how are you?" replied Tony.

"I'm very well, Sir. It's you that's been in the wars from what I hear … again! I told you that London was a nasty, dangerous place to go live in."

"I'm fine, Pondie. Is my aunt in?"

"Yes, Sir. She's in her sewing room. Shall I tell her you're here?"

"No need. I'll go find her. Oh, this is Mr Gibbs. Gibbs, Mrs Dora Pond."

Gibbs touched his hat in acknowledgement.

"Yes, Sir. The American. Her ladyship mentioned he'd be coming," said Mrs Pond. She looked at Gibbs amiably enough but Gibbs suspected she was going straight back to the kitchen to count the spoons.

"I think I had some of your … jam," said Gibbs, "Blackberry and apple." He smiled.

Mrs Pond smiled back and Tony realised that Gibbs was exercising a hitherto unsuspected charm. "I'll make sure there's some for tea, Sir," she said, "And perhaps some of my lemon curd."

"This way, Gibbs," said Tony. Gibbs sighed as he realised that he was once again allowing Tony to tell him what to do but feeling a slight sense of triumph at making Pondie reconsider her decision to count the spoons.

Tony led the way to a room at the back of the house which overlooked the garden. A woman who Gibbs guessed to be in her middle fifties was sitting there with some knitting. She looked up when she saw the visitors,

"Tony," she said, "Excellent timing, I want to check if this sleeve is the right length."

Tony stooped to kiss her cheek and then obediently held his arm out for his arm to checked against the knitting. "What's this for?" he asked.

"It's a cricket jumper," said his aunt. "I noticed when you played for Netley Green in the summer that your old one was looking a little yellow."

"You play cricket?" asked Gibbs.

"Sometimes," hedged Tony.

"He's an excellent bowler."

Gibbs dredged his memory about this most English of games, "Let me guess. You're a fast bowler."

"No," said Tony's aunt, "He's a spinner. Very devious."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," said Gibbs drily.

"Aunt Charlotte," said Tony, "This is Jethro Gibbs, I told you about him. Gibbs, my aunt, Lady George Paddington."

Gibbs wasn't often stumped but he realised he didn't know the correct form of address for a lady. "Ma'am," he settled for, deciding that as an American he couldn't be expected to know English etiquette.

"Mr Gibbs," smiled Lady George. "It's good to welcome you to Netley Green. What …" She was interrupted by the arrival of Mrs Pond with a tea tray.

"I thought you might be in need of something to warm you up after being in Master Tony's little car," she announced.

"Mr Gibbs prefers coffee to tea," warned Tony.

"Hmph. Well, let him try how I make tea first," said the housekeeper. "Then I'll make him coffee if he wants some."

Gibbs had fought bravely against some impossible odds in his time as a Marine but in the face of Mrs Pond, he found himself nodding in agreement. She smiled in grim approval and left the room.

"Goodness," said Lady George, "Two types of jam and lemon curd. She must be glad to see you, Tony."

"Not me," said Tony in mock hurt, "It's Gibbs. He said he liked her jam."

"Well," said Lady George peaceably, "It's a sign of honour. And she has put a bottle of her cough syrup in your room so she is pleased to see you really."

Tony's aunt poured the tea but when she saw how strong it had been made, topped hers and Tony's up with hot water before passing an undoctored cup to Gibbs. Tony watched as Gibbs took a sip and got ready to pull the bell to summon the housekeeper back – unnecessarily as he saw Gibbs smile with approval.

"Tony," said his aunt, "Mr Bostock would like to see you before tomorrow. I said that you would go down to see him."

"Fine," said Tony, sparing a moment from devouring his muffins. "I'll go down after tea."

XXXXXX

Somehow Gibbs wasn't surprised to find that he was also expected to go visit Mr Bostock but he went willingly enough as he wanted to stretch his legs after the journey down. Tony pointed out the highlights of Netley Green as they walked,

"There's Brown's the butcher," he said. "Joyley the baker. Tunstall's is the garage. Anything else we can usually get from Carey's the grocer."

"You sure you're not going into the tourist trade?" asked Gibbs.

"Huh?"

"Always giving directions," explained Gibbs.

"Oh. Wasn't planning on it," said Tony, "But you never know. Here's Bostock," he added when he saw a clergyman coming towards them on his bicycle. "Hello, Sir," he said.

"Tony," said Bostock, "How nice to see you. I trust you're fully recovered? And this must be your American friend, Mr Gibbs? Welcome to Netley Green, Mr Gibbs."

Gibbs shook his hand and decided that crime must be non-existent in Netley Green as the gossip grapevine seemed to be in excellent shape: it seemed unlikely that anything could be kept secret.

"Mr Bostock is our vicar, Gibbs," said Tony.

"Indeed," smiled Bostock, "I have had the honour of being vicar of St Edburga and St Edmund's for fifteen years."

Gibbs wasn't sure how to respond to that so simply nodded. He suspected that the vicar was used to this as he smiled again, "And we shall see you tomorrow, Tony?" he asked.

"Yes. I'll be there," promised Tony.

"Excellent. We are dedicating our war memorial tomorrow," explained Bostock as he turned to Gibbs who noticed that what he had taken to be a permanent smile had disappeared. "I hope you will come too, Mr Gibbs. It will remind us of the sacrifice made by our allies."

Gibbs found himself nodding once more.

"The arrangements are as I previously indicated to you, Tony. I trust that is satisfactory," said the vicar.

"Fine," said Tony.

"Then I will see you tomorrow. I am on my way to the big house to check with your grandfather about the arrangements. Farewell." Bostock got back on his bicycle and wobbled off.

"Can never decide if he's more dangerous on a bike than driving a car," said Tony thoughtfully as he watched his precarious progress.

Gibbs followed Tony's gaze and found that he was equally doubtful. "Where's the big house?" he asked.

"About a mile out of the village," said Tony, "He should be safe. Now, do you want a drink before we go back for dinner? Barthorp keeps an excellent bitter," he pointed to the Woolpack Inn across the road from St Edburga's and St Edmund's.

"Thought you didn't like smoky places," said Gibbs.

"It'll be empty at this time," said Tony confidently, "We'll be fine."

Gibbs found himself, yet again, following behind.

"So, I'll be meeting your grandfather tomorrow," he said.

"Yes, the Earl of Netley. Lord Netley. I think you'll like him."

"You do?"

"Yes, he doesn't talk much either. You'll get on fine!"

XXXXXX

Gibbs hadn't known Tony long but he had always seemed to be naturally cheerful and easy-going but there was a different atmosphere as he stood with him at the village memorial at 10.45 the next morning. Lady George was dressed in black and stood next to Tony with her arm through his.

It was a bright but cold day but that hadn't stopped what looked like the whole village turning out for the occasion. With ten minutes to go to the hour, Mr Bostock arrived with an elderly gentleman who looked so like Tony that Gibbs had to guess that it was Lord Netley.

"Friends," said Mr Bostock, "Today, on the 11th of November, the day when the guns finally fell silent, we gather to dedicate this memorial which bears the names of so many of our friends and loved ones. Lord Netley will read the names aloud. I shall say a prayer of dedication and then we will keep our two minutes of silence. Lord Netley …"

The Earl looked around the crowd and said, in a surprisingly strong voice, "We remember: Charles Adams, Walter Barthrop, Thomas Bostock, Cecil Brown, William Brown, Timothy Carey, Henry Edwards, John Joyley, Andrew Paddington, George Paddington …" the Earl's voice faltered slightly but then resumed as strongly as before, "Donald Pond, Gordon Pond …"

The voice continued as Gibbs realised with some shock that he already recognised most of the names from people he had met or places he had seen in the village and he glimpsed the impact the war had had on this small community. He was brought back to the present when the crowd said Amen together.

"Corporal Edwards will now sound the Last Post," said Bostock, "And we will keep our two minutes of silence. We remember those we lost and the impact of war on those who are left behind."

The church clock struck eleven and as the last chime faded the Last Post was sounded. Gibbs stood erect as he allowed himself to remember the brothers-in-arms he had lost. He vaguely noticed that Lady George's hand tightened on Tony's arm and that there was a collective intake of breath as silence fell. Gibbs jumped when Edwards began to play Reveille to end the silence.

"We will walk to the church," announced Bostock, "To continue our dedication."

The vicar and the Earl led the way and people fell in behind them but Gibbs noticed that, as they waked past the memorial, some of them touched the spot where a loved one's name was carved. As he walked, Lady George said, "May I go with you, Mr Gibbs?"

Gibbs nodded in surprise that Tony had disappeared and held out his arm for Lady George to take. The organ was playing some gentle music as they entered the church and people found their accustomed places in the pews. Gibbs let his attention wander as he gazed at the inside of the church with its graceful arches and faded wall paintings. Somehow, Gibbs thought it was probably some sort of architectural jewel but it was the calm atmosphere born from centuries of being a place of refuge and hope that he found stilling his soul. He came to himself when a hymn was announced and Lady George pointed to the place in the hymn book,

"I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above,

Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love …"

Something welled up in Gibbs as he listened to the words, a mixture of pride and sorrow, regret and fulfilment and once again his attention wandered until he heard the final line of the hymn which spoke of another country,

"… and her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace."

The vicar pronounced the blessing and people began to disperse as the organ played gently once more. Lady George remained in her pew and Gibbs sat with her. The organ music stopped and shortly afterwards, Tony appeared.

"You did well, darling," said his aunt.

"That was you?" asked Gibbs. "Of course it was, you said that you play piano."

"Come and meet my grandfather," said Tony, "He wants to meet you."

The meeting didn't take long. As Tony had suggested, the Earl was a man of few words and he had used a lot of them that morning already.

"Gibbs," said the Earl.

"Sir," replied Gibbs.

"Good to see you here today," said Lord Netley gruffly, "We owe you and your countrymen a debt of gratitude."

"Your grandson saved my life," said Gibbs, "And that of another young man. We owe your family a debt of gratitude too."

"Tony has a habit of trying to save people," said the Earl, "But thank you for saying it. Come up to the house later, I've got some port you might enjoy."

"You trying to take my place?" demanded Tony as his grandfather walked away.

"What?" asked Gibbs in bewilderment.

"First Pondie … now Grandfather … he never offers his port to a stranger," said Tony.

"Guess you've either got it or you haven't," said Gibbs smugly.

"Huh," said Tony. "I'm going to walk back with Pondie and Aunt Lottie. You coming?"

"No," said Gibbs, "I'll stay here a while."

Tony nodded and went back to the church to collect the women.

Left alone, Gibbs stood in front of the memorial and counted the names: twenty-three from this small settlement. So much sorrow and yet the place was peaceful, so peaceful that it was almost impossible to imagine that there could be places of such war and destruction … and noise. For the first time in many years, Gibbs fancied that he could no longer hear the guns which had been an internal accompaniment to his life since he left France. The recovery Ducky had spoken of now seemed a possibility.

Sometime later, his reverie was interrupted,

"Andrew Paddington was my cousin," said Tony, "… and you know who George Paddington was. Donald Pond was Dora's husband; Gordon was their son. I knew everyone listed on the memorial – they're part of my history, part of our history. How can we ever be worthy of what they did?"

"That what you're trying to do?" asked Gibbs. "Be good enough? Try to save people?"

"Possibly," said Tony. "But it's part of who I am. Ab honesto virum bonum nihil deterret."

"What?"

"It's our family motto. The Paddington motto: Nothing deters a good man from doing what honour requires of him. My grandfather, and Uncle George, believed in that. They knew they were privileged but believed that with privilege comes duty. They brought Andrew and me up to believe in it too."

"That why you became a policeman?" asked Gibbs.

"Not sure," said Tony. "I read natural sciences at Cambridge and originally I'd thought about perhaps being a teacher but the war got in the way of that."

"Ducky said you were an aide de camp," said Gibbs.

"Do you ever forget anything?" asked Tony.

"Nope," said Gibbs.

"Ducky's right. I was in the trenches for a few weeks before being gassed. They would have discharged me but … "

"But you couldn't leave your men behind," supplied Gibbs.

"Something like that. I wasn't fit enough to fight but I could try and make things work behind the lines," said Tony.

"I don't usually apologise," said Gibbs, "But I'll make an exception. I apologise."

"What for?"

"Suggesting that you were just a gopher."

"How do you know I wasn't?" asked Tony cautiously.

"I recognise the medals," said Gibbs, as he looked at Tony's chest, "You don't get the Military Cross for being a gopher."

Tony shrugged, "When I came out of the army I couldn't go back to my plan, my old life. I needed to do something … something which fixed wrongs."

"Carrying on what you did in the war?" suggested Gibbs.

Tony directed a sharp look at Gibbs, "I'm not so naïve as to think that everything we did in the war was on the side of right, Gibbs. I hope I'm not being naïve when I hope that the world remembers the pain we went through and doesn't tear itself apart again … but I do continue to hope. And to believe that I can make a difference. That the world can be a better place."

"But you're leaving," said Gibbs. "To do what? Come back here? Will this be yours one day?"

Tony laughed, "No. The title doesn't pass through the female line. Grandfather has lost both his children so the title will go to his brother Clive or Clive's children and the estate will go with the title."

"Then what? What are you going to do?" asked Gibbs.

"I have to move out of London," said Tony, "I get sick every winter … it hasn't been too bad so far this year … the fogs haven't got going yet but they will. I'll miss London but it'll kill me if I stay."

"Come to the US," said Gibbs suddenly.

"What?"

"Office of Naval Intelligence is always looking for people," said Gibbs, "You're half American. You could find somewhere healthy to live there."

"Really?" said Tony, "You'd put in a good word for me?"

"Sure," said Gibbs, "I could make something of you. You shouldn't waste good, you know."

"Thank you, Gibbs," said Tony. "You surprise me. Hey, this isn't a way of making sure that you get to take Lambert back with you, is it?"

"Would it help?" asked Gibbs half joking. "No, that's not the reason. I think we could work together. Although you'd have to learn to stop telling me what to do."

"Thanks, Gibbs," said Tony. "But I have a job to go to. And I think that my British side is stronger than my American side. And if you ever met my father, you'd understand why."

"If you change your mind …" said Gibbs. "And another thing, why did you bring me down here? Was it more of you trying to fix things?"

"I told you," said Tony, "Ducky and Bradyn wouldn't let me drive down by myself."

"Ducky would have come," said Gibbs.

"No, he couldn't. He had a reunion with his RAMC doctors this weekend."

"Or Jimmy …"

"Nope, on duty."

"You could have come by train," said Gibbs.

"All right," said Tony, "I admit that I wanted to bring you down."

"Why?"

"You said it yourself. I try to fix people."

"You think I need fixing?"

Tony looked at him sternly, "You trying to deny it, Gibbs?"

"I guess not," said Gibbs.

"Netley Green is a healing place," said Tony. "And I got the impression that you've been trying to cope by shutting things out. I thought that coming to the dedication, turning to face the past … knowing that other people have suffered … are suffering … might help."

"Huh," said Gibbs.

"Was I right?"

"Possibly," conceded Gibbs. "Ok, probably. You're right, there's something about the place … can't explain what … but it's tranquil. And I haven't done tranquil for a long time."

"Good," said Tony.

"So where's the new job?" asked Gibbs.

"Oh," said Tony, "Plymouth … in Devon. I'm transferring to the Plymouth City Police as a Chief Inspector. Ducky thinks the air will be better for me down there and I'm going to live in Saltash, just across the river Tamar."

"Plymouth," said Gibbs thoughtfully, "Don't they have a naval base there?"

"That's right," said Tony.

"Maybe I'll see you there sometime," said Gibbs. "Our navies must speak to each other sometimes, eh?"

"I hope so," said Tony. He held out his hand to Gibbs, "It's been an experience, Gibbs."

Gibbs took the hand and shook it, "That's one way of describing it," he said.

"Although," said Tony thoughtfully, "If I'd known you were going to cut me out with my family, I might have taken the train after all!"

Gibbs laughed, "Mrs Pond said something about a jam pudding for lunch …"


Finished at last … thank you to everyone who has taken an interest in the story. The NCIS characters are back in their 21st century box.