Ch. 2 Gibbs

"Agent Gibbs, you need to choose a new agent."

"Leon, I have a temporary agent. A new agent insinuates that I need a replacement agent, which you know, isn't the case." Gibbs continued to stare at his paper work, drinking a late night coffee. Gibbs had taken the habit of staying late at NCIS since Israel. Vance took notice after the first week and for the following two had used the opportunity to badger him about getting a new agent on his way out.

"Gibbs, Officer David is not coming back. She hasn't contacted you or this team for the past three weeks. She's moved on. It's time you do the same."

"You ever lost anyone close Leon? Family?" Gibbs voice cut like a knife through the tension building in the air, making Vance slightly uncomfortable.

"Close friends." was all Vance said.

"Well, when you lose family, a daughter, you don't just move on after three weeks. It doesn't matter how bad that person may have screwed up or hurt you. You don't forget. My team hasn't moved on Leon, and I refuse to without them."

"Gibbs-",

"Goodnight, Director Vance." Gibbs shut off his light and left Vance standing there, taking the stairs in an attempt to leave the building faster.

The Basement

Gibbs took a deep swallow of bourbon, savoring the burn of the alcohol. He was staring into the space that was once a boat, fiddling with a knife in his hands. Ziva's knife. He didn't know when she left it there, but knew quite certainly it was hers. Setting his glass down, he analyzed the knife with two hands. The most remarkable feature was the sharpness of the blade, even after it's neglect. Just like Ziva, thought Gibbs. Ziva was sharp, always on top of her game. At least usually.

Gibbs didn't know what to think anymore and for once, his gut wasn't sending him the usual vibes. He had so many questions with no answers.

Did she kill her brother to save me, or because of orders?

Was she a mole?

Where is she now?

Why hasn't she called?

If she didn't care, why did she come when I lost my memory?

Will we ever see her again?

Gibbs took another swig of bourbon, fighting away the thoughts that were driving him insane. He looked at his watch. 2300. Putting the knife back in its sheath and pocketing it, Gibbs left his basement, grabbing a jacket on the way out.

The cemetery

The night air was warm, but it failed to thaw the cold in Gibbs' heart. He hadn't been to the cemetery in a while. In a way, it felt as though it was his last resort. The place to go when nothing else made sense, because at least in the cemetery, everything was clear and final. Knowing the route by heart, Gibbs walked without a flashlight. Finding the marker, he settled himself on the ground, lying on his back, his head just under the tombstone.

"Tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it." pleaded Gibbs, his ears waiting for an answer.

Closing his eyes, he let his memories of the past months consume him.

Going to LA. Uncovering the sleepers. Micheal Rivkin's interference; on Mossad's orders. Tony's suspicion of Rivkin and his obvious worry over Ziva. The death of the ICE agent. The whole in the security plan. Rivkin's presence at the SecNav's home; on Mossad's orders. Tony killing Rivkin. The Mossad Liaison position. Vance as point man on a op. He trip to Tel Aviv. Tony's interrogation. Ziva's confrontation of Hadar and then Tony. Ziva staying on the tarmac as they flew away.

Gibbs opened his eyes. The thoughts were too much. The emotions that came with them left Gibbs feeling sad. Empty.

"What can't I see? And why can't I find the answers?" asked Gibbs aloud. He was met with silence. He closed his eyes again. His mind filled with images of Shannon and Kelly. Meeting Shannon. Getting married. Holding his baby daughter in his arms. Laughing with them on a beach and playing in a backyard. The images faded and were replaced with those of his team. Abby going on a tangent about some new piece of vital information. McGee valiantly ignoring paper balls being thrown at him by Tony. Ziva laughing at Tony's boyish nature. Ducky and his stories. Memories of the good and the hard times filled his mind. He realized that the good times made the hard times easier to deal with.

He opened his eyes again. This time, they shown with revelation.

Softly Gibbs spoke into the air.

"I trust Ziva." he said simply. With the admission, it felt as though a load had been lifted off his shoulders. It just felt right. Ziva had been a part of his team. Regardless of whatever orders may have put her there, she still was part of the team. She learned from them and they had learned from her. Most importantly, she never backed down when her team needed her help. Not when Tony was accused of murder, twice, not when McGee shot the police officer, and not when Gibbs lost his memory. It Vance, not Ziva, who made his heart flutter with uneasiness. Vance manipulated people to achieve his goals, treating them as a means to an end.

Gibbs sat up and turned to face the tombstone. Touching it gently with his fingertips, Gibbs made a promise.

"I won't lose another daughter. Not again." The answer came as a small whisper and Gibbs barely felt it. His mind was clearer, calmer, and so he heard it: Ask the right questions.

A small smile on his face, Gibbs walked away from the tombstone, leaving his first family to save his current one.