Ice Cream Worries
Eating a gallon of ice cream all by yourself is considered gluttonous. Eating a gallon of ice cream with your friend is considered therapeutic.
Abby knocked again on the door in front of her. She was starting to feel very nervous. She shouldn't be here. It wasn't her place.
The door opened a crack, before it opened more fully. Jenny stood in the doorway of her house, looking very bemused. "Abby?" she asked.
"Is it a good time?" Abby checked. "Because I know I probably shouldn't disturb you at home but I thought you might want some company and –"
Jenny simply stepped back and gestured for her to enter the house. Abby obeyed. She glanced around as she stepped into the hallway. Wow. She had to come here more often.
"What's wrong?" Jenny inquired.
Abby sighed. "El jefe is in London, tracking down the dirtbag. And it feels strange with him gone. I brought ice cream! I wasn't sure what you'd like so I got a few tubs."
The Goth was relieved when Jenny's smile grew bigger. "I'll get us some spoons."
"You don't mind that I came over?" Abby questioned.
"You are always welcome," Jenny answered, disappearing into the kitchen.
Abby smiled. While Mommy would never admit it, she was worried about Gibbs too. They might as well worry together, and sharing ice cream was a cure for all ills.
The ice cream had been shared out and the movie had been decided on. Neither of them had questioned how Legally Blonde had mysteriously appeared in Jenny's DVD collection.
Jenny was happy to have Abby with her for the evening. She seemed to be spending most of her waking hours worrying about Jethro in London and it was nice to have someone who felt the same way.
Abby worried about everyone. She worried about McGee being attacked by a computer virus, Ziva accidently killing herself with office stationary, Tony catching the plague again, Ducky being smothered by his dogs and Palmer getting very lost on the way to a crime scene. Their last maternal talk had ended with Jenny soothing the Goth and reminding her that everyone could take care of themselves.
Now she wanted Abby to tell her that nothing would happen to Gibbs. She was allowed to worry about him – she was the Director and it was her job to be concerned for the welfare of her agents.
Even if she worried about Jethro more than she should.
With good cause. He always seemed to get himself into scrapes. He took risks he shouldn't take and forgot he was older now and took longer to heal. She had wondered more than once if he thought he was Peter Pan and would never grow up properly.
Discounting the fact he usually won his fights, he was more likely to end up in bad situations to begin with. He followed his damn gut and acted as though back-up didn't exist. He seemed to enjoy winding up suspects until they cracked.
She suspected that trait was connected with Ducky having to treat him for various injuries inflicted by various ex-wives.
The movie blared in the background as she dug into her Rocky Road. She had long since lost interest in the movie, choosing to fear for Jethro's safety instead. If anything happened to him, she was an ocean away. He had only taken McGee for back-up and much as she trusted the younger agent, she knew he was more at home behind a computer screen than preventing his boss from doing something stupid.
Perhaps she should have insisted that Tony go instead of McGee. Gibbs would have undoubtedly pointed out that McGee's computer skills were needed, but he would have noted her concern and possibly taken a little more care. What if something happened…
She shook her head firmly. She was turning into Abby! Jethro would be fine – he was always fine.
She ignored his coma and various scars, deciding to go back to the movie. Abby's presence was meant to calm them both down, not work her into a heart attack.
Gibbs stood outside the door, wondering whether he should enter or not.
They'd caught the bad guy and made arrangements to transport him back, all helped by McGee's smooth-talking. Gibbs had a horrible feeling the lad was going to grow into a politician or even the Director of an agency some day. But for the moment, it had helped and he wasn't complaining.
Not when it had brought the two of them back a few days before they were expected.
McGee had been ordered home and told to report to the squad room tomorrow morning. Gibbs had wanted to spend a quiet evening with his boat and a bottle of bourbon, but something had drawn him to Jenny's townhouse.
He wasn't sure what it was. A desire to check up on her? To make sure she was okay? That no one had stolen her throne while he had been away? Whatever it was, he had followed his gut and now was unsure of his welcome.
He looked at the house again. The lights downstairs were on while the ones upstairs weren't. Odd. She should be in bed at this hour.
Shrugging his shoulders, he searched for the spare key he knew she kept by the door. Evidently the security warnings she was given were having no effect. Making a mental note to keep this particular key so she couldn't leave her house unsecure again, he let himself in.
The house was silent. He checked her study first, out of habit. Empty. The kitchen was in a similar state, but the ice cream cartons on the side told him she had had a visitor. And this particular visitor was likely to still be present.
He found them asleep on the couch, whatever movie they had been watching long since over. Moving the remaining cartons out of the way, he wondered what to do. Eventually, he picked Jenny up as carefully as she could and carried her upstairs.
When he had tucked her in and was fairly sure she wouldn't wake up, he checked the house, snagging a few spare blankets from a cupboard. Abby was still asleep on the couch and showed no signs of waking up, so he covered her with the blankets and settled down on a nearby chair.
Despite the late hour and his own jet-lag, he planned to stand guard over the house until his two girls woke up.
THE END