Jarhead

by madame.alexandra

In this very au continuation, Jenny is the girl Gibbs meets in high school - his first love, until some unexpected teenage mistakes change their lives, and the paths they take, forever. Jibbs-oriented; Shannon friendly. 3rd part in a 4 part series. This part focuses on Gibbs and what he's up to, running concurrently with 'Shepard Girls.'

4. Somebody Told Me

a/n: and now we're on the denouement, aren't we? i really like this chapter. really, really like it.

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Stillwater, Pennsylvania; Positano, Italy; Paris, France: 1994-1996

Somebody Told Me

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Shannon Gibbs found traveling with an infant to be a surprisingly calming way to spend some of her isolated days – not calm in the usual sense of the word; no, it was hectic, and it was a hassle, and for every moment she was having fun and feeling confident, there was a moment she was almost in tears in an airport bathroom begging the baby to stop crying – but it was calming in the sense that it gave her a purpose, and something to focus on, and something to do.

If anything, she had to stay calm for her husband's sake, because the prospect of her traveling back to the states so her family could meet the baby had turned him into a completely fussy basket case and when she placed calls to him to check in – when she could – she had to constantly reassure him that she was fine, she had this under control, and Kelly was fine – and no she didn't catch diphtheria from someone on a plane – diphtheria, of all things, Gibbs –

Shannon spent three full weeks at her parents' secluded, old south style manor in Stillwater – well, it was in no-man's land, really, a fortress of wealth outside of most city limits, which was why Shannon had received her choice of local small-town high schools – and then she packed her things and went to stay for a scheduled ten or so days with Gibbs' father, something her mother vehemently protested.

Why, Joanne Fielding demanded, would Shannon go stay in a cozy, small little house when she and the baby could just borrow a car and visit Jackson Gibbs – but Shannon was insistent; Gibbs' father deserved plenty of time with Kelly, and secretly, Shannon's mother was driving her slowly insane. She loved her mother, and as much as she'd wished she had her around several times since the baby had been born, three weeks of her constant presence made Shannon grateful that she wasn't always so – close.

"Hello, hello," Shannon called, talking over the bell of the store as she waltzed back in. "We're back," she sang – Jackson Gibbs, quick for his age, immediately caught the door, holding it as she hauled Kelly's carrier through it. She thanked him demurely, and placed the set firmly on the table near the cash register.

"How'd the rounds go?" Jackson asked.

"Well, she's quite popular," Shannon answered primly, reaching down to adjust the soft pink headband on Kelly's head. "I took her by Debbie's, and she got spoiled there, and then my Aunt Melissa was of course as catty as she could possibly be – "

"How so?" asked Jackson with a snort.

"Oh, you know," Shannon sighed breezily. "The backhanded remark that – ah," she broke off; on second thought, there was no need to tell Jackson that her Aunt Melissa had all kinds of choice words for his son. Shannon shrugged. "If anything, Melissa and my mother seem to judge Jenny and Jethro equally, unlike some people in this town," she said shortly.

Jackson nodded amicably, and strolled around behind the counter.

"Sit down, Missy, sit down," he urged. "It's hot out there – I'll get you some lemonade – or sweet tea?"

"Tea," Shannon agreed. "It feels nice out – I think Kelly likes it," she mused, unbuckling the baby's restraints. "I'm just glad she was born in early spring; I wouldn't have dared travel with her like this if it was going to be winter," she said, raising her voice as Jackson disappeared towards the back.

"Mighty glad this all worked out," Jackson said gruffly, coming back with a tray containing a pitcher and two tall glasses. He set the things down on the table, and Shannon pulled out a chair, snuggling Kelly securely into the crook of one arm as she watched him pour.

He slid a glass towards her, and held his hands out hesitantly.

"You trust me to take her? Give you a break?" he asked wryly.

Shannon laughed, and gingerly handed the baby over, leaning back and letting her shoulders relax. She nodded, watching him settle the baby in his arms in the most comfortable way for him.

"I think you've had plenty of practice," she said, reaching for her tea.

"'M sure you tell yourself that about Leroy, too," he said dryly. "At least you don't have to raise a baby and teach a husband how to – my wife, Ann, ooh, she used to give me a hard time – 'Jackson, he's not a toy – JACKSON don't leave him near the chickens - !'" Jackson smiled fondly, and Shannon grinned. "Maybe I let the chickens peck Leroy one too many times," Jackson added, a little gruffly.

"Oh, I'm sure it built character," Shannon said with a wink. She sighed. "From what I've seen, Gibbs is really good with the baby. I slept perfectly for days while he was home."

"Ah, so he has seen her? 'M not sure I've been understandin' your situation," Jackson said.

Shannon nodded.

"He's been home once, since she was born; he was home at the very end of May, for two weeks," she said. "He gets booted out of Baghdad every eight weeks, to clear his head, so he got to meet Kelly."

"And you're just livin' it up in Germany – you likin' it there, makin' friends?" Jackson asked, concerned.

"It's lovely, our housing is lovely," Shannon said. "Our neighbor, his kids are grown, but his wife loves Kelly; she's a doll. And there's a set of twins down the street who like to come play with Bugsy – "

"Bugsy's the dog?"

"The dog," Shannon agreed, laughing.

"How's the dog with the new baby?"

"Oh, she's wonderful – she's like a nanny," Shannon said warmly. "She lays next to her carrier, or guards the crib – it's so cute, I had taken to calling her Big Sister, but – ah, Jethro didn't like that," she admitted, trailing off slightly.

She'd gotten used to it when she was home – 'Where's your sister?' she'd say to the dog – but Gibbs had reacted poorly to it, though she guessed she didn't blame him. She sighed a little, and shrugged, as if to say – what can you do? She wondered how Jackson felt, being here with Kelly when he never saw Natalie – at least, she didn't think he did, and she hesitated to ask too much unless it sounded like she was probing or spying.

She watched Jackson admire Kelly for a moment, and she leaned forward, admiring her as well – she was almost four months old now, and she was a very good baby – she didn't keep Shannon as sleepless as she'd thought she'd be, and she'd only really cried so much during traveling because she kept getting woken up.

"You didn't have to come stay, you know," Jackson said gruffly. "I'd have been happy if you just brought her to see me –"

"Nonsense," Shannon said easily, waving her hand. "You deserve more than a day with her, too – and really, god bless my mother, but she did all kinds of things to Kelly's diaper bag, she made all this recommendations, started all these schedules – and now that I'm here I'm free to completely ignore them."

Shannon flashed a wry grin – her mother seemed to think she was having a harder time adjusting to motherhood than she really was; as it were, it felt like a natural step to Shannon, and she was enjoying the new part of her life – after all, she'd wanted it.

"She's a pretty little thing," Jackson complimented. He glanced up, and back down. "Think she has more of your look. Funny, the other one always looked just like Leroy, spittin' image – well, of him and Ann, but they always looked alike, too," he trailed off.

"It's oaky to say Natalie," Shannon said wryly. "We use her name at home," she said. She nodded at Kelly. "It's not something I intend to keep from Kelly, and Jethro knows that."

"Does he?" Jackson asked dryly – a little tensely.

Shannon nodded thoughtfully.

"He doesn't deny her," she said gently, catching her father-in-law's eye. "He just – took the things Jenny said to heart one too many times."

Jackson made a harrumphing noise and looked at the baby, patting her stomach gently.

"Your old man's stubborn as a mule," he growled lightly.

"He is," Shannon agreed fondly. "But we love him anyway," she sang.

Jackson looked up at her, leaning back easily. He shifted his hands gingerly, and laid baby Kelly against his shoulder, rubbing her back. Shannon watched her turn her head this way and that, taking in the new view. She seemed content – she hadn't started hungry crying yet, and that was a relief – Shannon didn't mind letting Jackson hold her until his arms fell off.

"What's next for the two of you – hey, you been working? I know you're usually teachin' school, wherever he goes."

She shook her head.

"Well, I looked in to positions as English teachers in German Kindergartens, but I decided to just not work for a while, instead of having to deal with Maternity leave when I had her, and we don't have that many expenses, just the house in Alexandria," she gave a small shrug. "I think I'll go back to work when we're somewhere more stable – Jethro's next posting, likely."

"And that's...?"

"Well," She began, her eyes lighting up, "nothing is set in stone yet – but the good thing is, he managed to work out a deal where if he leaves Baghdad in September and commits to temporary duty stabilizing diplomatic missions in Serbia, he gets to come back earlier, and they let him put in for posts already – apparently no one wants to go to that mess – " Jackson snorted, understandably. "—so he requested Rome, Paris, and Madrid for his top three."

Jackson smirked.

"Leroy requested three places that don't speak English for his top three?'

"Leroy," Shannon said, imitating Jackson's tone, "put down what I told him to."

"Ah."

"Ah is right," Shannon said primly. "He'll get confirmation sometime when he's in Belgrade – it means a more extended period away, because he won't get the eight week breaks, but when he gets back, before we PCS to the next post, he's taking all his accumulated leave and we're going to Italy."

It was what Shannon was most excited about – Italy, for almost a month, and then a week in Greece before they went to wherever they were going next – she was sorry Kelly was going to be too little to ever remember it, but she was immensely looking forward to having all that downtime to just spend with Gibbs and let him bond with Kelly.

Kelly started to fuss slightly, and Shannon was quick to swoop forward and taker her, standing to stretch a bit and walk around, kissing the baby's forehead. She turned, leaning against the cash register counter.

"He calls whenever he can," she said. "I know he misses us – but half the time, it's like he's calling to make sure someone answers, to make sure someone's there," she said. She tilted her head, her lips pursing. "There's a lot of – scar tissue – to Jethro, and I think underneath it he's constantly terrified I'm going to run off, like she did."

Jackson sighed heavily.

"It's been years," he said tightly. "My son, he holds on to things, he can't just – he can't let it go – "

"Well I don't think he should let it go," Shannon said quickly. "He – you know, he really cared for Natalie, and I can see that sometimes, when I see him with Kelly, and that breaks my heart. But he's never clear on how the conversation goes, when he – when he used to – try and work things with – Jenny."

She didn't know why she was broaching this subject, except…since Kelly had been born, she was thinking about it differently. It did break her heart, that he felt so – guilty, or upset, about losing Natalie – but sometimes it scared her, just a small bit – sometimes she worried part of his heart might be closed to Kelly. The logical part of her knew it was nonsense – but still – it wasn't as if she was going to spill this story to – some random neighbor in Frankfurt.

"He quit payin' her," Jackson said warily. "Don't know what he expected – he's lucky she didn't sue – what?" he paused at the look on Shannon's face.

"I," she began, her brow furrowed. "It's – well, in a way he – she told him he didn't have to."

Jackson looked a bit perturbed, and grunted.

"Hmpf. Argh – well, I just heard from Jasper that the money stopped – Shepard didn't seem too pissed, but after she got pregnant, he all but washed his hands of that girl – think he's gotten over it since, though; heard he went out to California, in May."

Shannon listened, and then hesitated – she finally decided to speak.

"That's the thing," she said softly. "You all – we all – have different opinions on what happened, and different sides of the story, and then, in the middle of it, there's this little girl who – well, God knows what she thinks," Shannon mused.

Jackson gave Shannon and intent look.

"Does Jennifer know about you?" he asked bluntly.

The way he said it made Shannon smile; he asked as if it were some deep, sinister secret – the clandestine wife, the other woman. She was prevented from answering, though; the shop door swung open and – damned if Chief Jasper Shepard didn't barrel through.

Jackson stood up stiffly, as Shannon moved demurely out of the way, turning her back and walking through the store with the baby – she wasn't even sure Jasper Shepard knew her, or had known her; she was never in trouble, and she'd only gone to Stillwater High for one year – and she knew Gibbs kept no contact with his ex-girlfriend's father.

"What can I get for you, Jasper?" Jackson asked.

"Coupla cigars," the man in questioned answered. "You got any of that deer jerky? I got to stakeout these punks again later," he griped.

She wandered back to the table to lay Kelly down in her carrier for a moment, resting her arms. She sat down and reached for the diaper bag, sensing it might be time to feed Kelly soon – she had some stuff ready to go, just so she didn't run the risk of making Jackson uncomfortable. While Jackson was ringing up, Jasper turned and looked at Shannon. He did a sort of wary double take, and then looked at the baby. She smiled briefly, and kept to herself. Kelly blinked her eyes and waved her hands at Shannon; Shannon smiled proudly and took her little fingers, making them dance. Over to her right, Chief Shepard cleared his throat.

"You're that Fielding girl," he said coolly.

Shannon tucked hair behind her ear.

"Yes, I was," she said politely. "I've changed my name, since," she said, slightly hesitant.

Jackson handed the cigars and jerky over to the Chief.

"Yeah, yeah, she's Leroy's wife," Jackson said, cracking the ice. "That's Kelly, my new granddaughter – cute as a button, ain't she? And I think Leroy did it on purpose, this time."

Jasper Shepard gave a thin, but kind smile. He strolled over and peered at the baby.

"I know your mama, girl – boy, I bet she had a fit," he muttered to Shannon. "Marryin' the town scandal?" he snorted.

Shannon smiled. She ran her hand lightly over Kelly's stomach, and shrugged.

"He's a good man."

Jasper gave her a sharp look, and then chewed the inside of his jaw for a moment. He sighed, muttered something under his breath, and nodded as if he agreed. He straightened, and turned back to Jackson.

"You tell my daughter about this?" he asked gruffly.

Jackson held up his hands. Jasper snorted.

"It's not a secret," Shannon spoke up, somewhat edgily. "They just don't have – "

"Contact," Jasper finished. "I know. She told me. Gets impossibly hostile if you bring 'im up," he said grimly. "Leroy, I mean." He looked between Jackson and Shannon – somehow, Shannon could tell Jasper likely wished he didn't know; he clearly didn't involve himself in Jenny's affairs much. "I quit tryin' to find anything out about those two," he said curtly. "She nearly ripped my head off when I saw her for graduation."

He gave Shannon a polite nod, gave a small – absurd – little wave to Kelly, and then gave a more masculine nod to Jackson.

"Graduation?" Shannon piped up, before he could leave.

On his way out, tucking his bag of goods under his arm, Jasper nodded.

"I reckon I don't mind you tellin' him," he said dryly, as if he suspected her of fishing. "My daughter graduated college in May. California State University," he said. There was an unmistakable sense of pride in his voice, a sense that lingered even after he left, and the bell rang softly into silence.

For a moment after he left, Jackson said nothing; then he sighed heavily, crossed his arms, and gave Shannon a raised-eyebrow, knowing look.

"Small towns, eh?" he remarked. "Don't you miss it?" He snorted. "And he ain't' even in here very often – figures, he'd show up today."

Shannon shrugged, amused. She wondered if he would tell Jenny about them, or if he really wasn't as in touch with her as Jackson claimed – she didn't know how else Gibbs' ex would know about her, because she hadn't started signing Kelly on the Christmas cards yet, and she didn't know if she was going to – and other than her handwriting, Gibbs was the only name she put on there, anyway.

Shannon bit her lip for a moment, and then turned, her eyes bright. She hesitated, then shrugged, and held out her palms.

"How's Natalie, Jackson?" she asked, throwing caution to the wind. "I have to – you don't have to tell me anything, and I don't know what kind of contact you have but – Jethro thinks he's okay, but I know sometimes he just wants to hear that she's – okay. So if you can at least just tell me – so I can tell him – how is Natalie?"

Jackson sighed heavily – but to Shannon's surprise, and relief, he smiled. He strode forward, and took a seat, resting his hand on the table. He looked at Kelly for a long moment, and then looked over at Shannon.

"She's real good," he said sincerely. "She's – well, she'll be ten, in November," he said. "She's very smart, she went to a science camp at some fancy California school – Stanford, or somethin'," he added proudly. He nodded firmly. "Yeah, she's doin' real good. Her mama's done a damn good job."

Shannon rested her hand on Kelly's foot, tickling it lightly.

"So you talk to her – a lot?"

"Enough," he allowed. "Her – not Jenny. Jenny's not – Jenny's – well, that girl was always very guarded," he said simply. "But she lets her call. Mostly holidays, when I talk to 'er."

Shannon nodded. She looked at her own daughter, and smiled a little sadly – it was always going to be such an unfortunate turn of events, but she thought Gibbs would like to know that Natalie was doing well – that Jenny had at least been extremely serious about doing what she did for Natalie's sake.

Jackson hesitated heavily, and then cleared his throat.

"He – does Leroy have any…contact?"

Shannon chewed her lip a moment.

"No," she said softly. "I send holiday cards. But he – well, when he last saw her, it was – nineteen ninety-two, I think, and he and Jenny had a fight. But there's a lot she doesn't – he just had a really hard time after his deployment, and she doesn't know that. And she doesn't understand," Shannon mused. She looked at Kelly thoughtfully. "I don't know if I can blame her. I think her reasoning comes from a very well-intentioned place, protecting her daughter."

Shannon thought that way, sometimes. She thought about Natalie showing up in the future, in Gibbs' life – she'd always expected that to happen, and been open to it, before – and she wondered how she'd feel; if she'd feel like Natalie shouldn't get close to Kelly, in case Kelly got hurt, or if she'd feel over-protective and unreasonable about Gibbs splitting his time or getting distracted – she didn't know.

Jackson leaned forward.

"Look," he started. He paused. He seemed to struggle, and Shannon looked at him patiently, wondering if he was going to continue. "A while back, I don't know how long," he broke off, then seemed to steel himself, and he really continued. "It must've been a couple of months ago, 'm not sure – Natalie called me," he said slowly, "she called, and she asked me about her father."

Shannon straightened a little taken aback.

"She - ?"

Jackson nodded, meeting her eye.

"She asked – almost exactly – if I knew 'why her mom and dad broke up' and if I knew if her dad did something bad – and let me tell you, it came out of nowhere; that little girl never mentions Leroy, never has."

Shannon pursed her lips.

"But what did you – "

"I told her she needed to ask her mother," Jackson said flatly. "That sure as hell wasn't my place, underminin' Jenny – and hell, I didn't know if he had done something since they both got outta here, I don't know a damn thing," Jackson sounded a little defensive. He took a deep breath. "But Jasper, he told me he got the same kind of call – told Natalie the same thing."

Shannon waited, and she spread her hands out, in disbelief.

"And…?"

"And," Jackson said with a shrug. "Strangest thing – that's it." He shrugged again. "Didn't even get a panicky call from her mother, trying to figure out anything – nothing; nada. Natalie never mentioned it again. Jenny never mentioned it either. It was like it never happened. I wonder, sometimes," his voice faded off, and Shannon sighed.

She reached for Kelly, suddenly wanting to hold her, and she gave Jackson a look through her lashes.

"You – you didn't even tell her father never did a bad thing to her?" she asked, a little disappointed – she didn't think that, at the very least, would be uncalled for.

Jackson gave her a stiff look.

"Not my place, I didn't want to interfere at all," he said tensely. "'Sides – how the hell do I know? Last time I asked about Natalie, Leroy hung up on me. He hasn't spoken to me since."

Shannon nodded a bit sadly. She remembered that day – she'd been there; she'd been talking to Jackson first, when Gibbs hung up the call unexpectedly and, from that point on, just refused to speak to his father. It was another thing that frustrated her, made her sad, but she let it go – she was sitting here, thinking maybe she should fight harder.

She held Kelly up and kissed her on the nose, thinking about Gibbs; thinking about the last time a woman had sat in this store with a baby girl, sat talking with Jackson – it must have been so different; it seemed like such a failed trial run, and she almost felt guilty for having Gibbs now, when he was in his element, and when it had all turned out so perfectly for her.

"He's a good daddy," she murmured, almost exclusively to Kelly. She snuggled the baby against her shoulder.

Jackson looked at her for a long time.

"He was," he said suddenly, abruptly. "He was, and I always made sure he never knew I thought that, 'cause I didn't want him to get lazy, or smug." Jackson shook his head, his face haggard. "Hell, maybe if I'd listened to his mother more, been more supportive, he wouldn't have run off like he did – that's what set Jenny off, you know."

Shannon shrugged, tilting her head. She looked at Jackson neutrally, and licked her lips.

"No, I don't think it was your fault," she said simply. "I think even Jethro is afraid to admit, sometimes, that they were just too young for what he thought was going to happen – and now it's all a point of pride," she sighed, "and somewhere, still, there's Natalie."

Jackson smiled at her – he admired this new wife of Leroy's; he did – and more than anything he appreciated her efforts, and her insistence that he get to meet his new granddaughter. She gave him a lot of hope – and he wanted to make her feel welcome here.

Shannon smiled back at him, and then lifted Kelly, cradling her and bending down to kiss her small brow again - -the baby yawned, and Shannon smiled – she quietly decided not to ask about Natalie again, or bring her up anymore during this visit – she wanted this visit with Jackson to be about her daughter, her Kelly, and maybe when she got home – when she and Gibbs got some much needed rest and relaxation in Italy – she could see if anything about having Kelly was making the issue bother him again.

---

There was a world of difference between the sand of the Iraqi desert and the sand of the Italian beaches – and this little secluded town in Italy was an infinitely better place to be than the trenches of Belgrade. Despite the horrors he'd witness in Kuwait, Gibbs privately thought the complete wreck of the Balkans following the recent gruesome issues rivaled his experience at war—and in Serbia, he'd only been helping to stabilize.

To say the least, he was more than glad to have a month or so off – mad ten times better by the fact that he got to spend it all, uninterrupted, with Shannon and Kelly.

Today was no different than any – they spent most afternoons on the beach, down by the waterfront; Kelly often took her nap on the beach, if she wasn't rolling around on a blanket watched carefully by Bugsy, or being fawned over by her father. The lack of English spoken around them added to the peaceful seclusion of the vacation, and Gibbs, basking in the more forgiving Mediterranean sun and the bliss of being with them, was content to stay for a while.

Shannon rolled onto her stomach and picked up her camera, rising up a little.

"I should send a picture of them to Mom," she said, nodding at Bugsy and Kelly – they'd brought the dog with them, naturally, instead of finding somewhere to kennel her for over a month.

Gibbs snorted in amusement.

"She'd have a heart attack," Shannon mused – Bugsy looked over at her and wagged her tail lazily, her tongue lolling out – Kelly sat between her paws, concentrating extremely seriously on the shiny pink tag dangling from Bugsy's collar.

"Wait 'til she starts licking her again, then get a picture," Gibbs said wickedly.

"Then Mom would have a heart attack and a stroke," Shannon said solemnly. She clicked her tongue. "'Shannon,'" she mimicked, affection a tone of horror. "'You allow that – that – animal – to – interact with the baby?'" Shannon laughed, remembering her mother's distress. "Bugsy's the only reason I got any sleep when you were gone."

Bugsy often slept in Kelly's nursery, and when she'd been a newborn and Gibbs was still in Baghdad, the dog being in there had made Shannon feel altogether safer about really letting herself fall asleep.

"Bugsy," Shannon called, wrinkling her nose. "Bugsy, are you taking care of Kelly?" she asked.

The dog thumped her tail and perked her ears, giving a pleased little whine. Kelly tilted her head up, eyes wide, and shrieked at her. Bugsy thumped her tail vigorously and scooted forward, licking Kelly's forehead. Kelly tipped backwards.

Gibbs was quick to put his hand behind her gently, keeping her from toppling over unsteadily, and she laughed, turning at the touch and giving him a huge smile. He smiled back, running his hand over her back protectively and leaning over to kiss the crown of her head.

"Still getting used to sitting up," Shannon said.

Gibbs nodded proudly, and he grinned.

"I'm not gonna miss a second," he gloated. Shannon smiled, reaching out to rub his thigh affectionately – he was more than relieved they were about to be stationed at a single embassy for two to three years – no moving, no war zones, no high level threats – just the ability to do his job as a Marine, come home, and be around for Kelly.

"It's perfect, you know," Shannon said. "We can raise her bi-lingual; it's so much easier for children to learn languages during primary speech development, and French is useful – "

"Who's she gonna talk to in French?" Gibbs asked blankly.

"Um, ninety-nine percent of the population of France. The country we are going to be living in," Shannon retorted.

Gibbs had ultimately been assigned to Paris – detachment commander, in charge of the Marine Security and general security manager. Upon their return from vacation, they had a week to move to Paris and take up residence near the embassy – Shannon had visited their housing while Gibbs was in Belgrade; it was to die for.

"Yeah, but we don't speak French," Gibbs said.

"I certainly plan on learning it," Shannon said, arching a brow. "Don't you?"

"Everyone speaks English anyway," he whined.

She rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow, shaking her head – he'd never get away with refusing to learn a lick, and no doubt he'd inevitably end up picking up at least a little.

"Well," Shannon said primly. "Kelly is going to learn French – I'm going to find a good Montessori program for her, once we're all settled and she's about two – I think by that time I'll be settled in, maybe with a job – I need to see about certifications," she went on, "I think I could get a job in a early level school teaching English – or if nothing turns out, a position at the embassy."

"You'll get a preference, as a military spouse," Gibbs muttered.

She nodded, and sat up. She pulled her hair back into a messy bun and lazily slung her arms over her knees, chewing her lip lightly.

"What do you think about me going to school for my Master's?" she ventured.

Leaning back, most of his attention on Kelly, Gibbs shrugged. He genuinely didn't care – Shannon had always been her own person, and he couldn't imagine a world in which she'd need his permission for anything – or one in which he'd even think about telling her what to do. Especially since she so stoically accepted whatever the Marines threw at them, even if it meant her parents had only seen their granddaughter once.

"Then I can quit the Marines and mooch off you," he drawled.

She laughed.

"You love the Marines," she reminded him. She shook her head, and held out her hands. "I think I want to get an advanced degree in school psychology – counseling – and then I can take more formalized French, too," she explained. "You'd have to watch Kelly at night, though – if I'm working, you know."

Gibbs turned his head.

"Have to?" he repeated, tilting his head. "What else would I be doin' at night?" he retorted.

He figured other guys might come home, start drinking beer, start watching the game or something – but he spent so much time separated from his family – and in the past, he'd spent so much time having no contact with family – that he couldn't imagine doing anything but coming home and playing with Kelly until bed time.

Shannon smiled at him, her eyes soft.

"I wanted to talk to you because – I was wondering if you were planning on going to college," she ventured.

He laughed outright.

"No," he scoffed. "I got out of that bull," he said, a little smugly. "Twice."

First he'd had the excuse of Natalie and Jen – then he'd joined the Marines, and he sure as hell didn't think more classrooms and stuffy teachers were going to teach him anything more valuable than the Corps had.

Shannon raised her eyes up, and then glanced at Kelly.

"Well, then – your G.I. bill – I could use it? To avoid loans?"

Gibbs looked at Kelly, too.

"You want to keep it for her?" he asked hesitantly. "I'll have about ten years of service in a coupla years; I can keep it for her."

Shannon compressed her lips.

"I'm glad you're thinking about Kelly's college – "

"'Course I want Kelly to go to college!" Gibbs interrupted loudly. "I hope Natalie goes to college – that's where girls belong!"

Shannon arched her brows – first, at surprise that he'd mentioned Natalie, unbidden, and then just – general amusement at what he'd said. She laughed, stretching her legs out, and ran her palms over her knees, tilting her head at him curiously as she watched him check on Kelly again – the baby was still contently patting Bugsy, and playing with her collar.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Shannon asked, delighted. "Girls belong in college? Do you know you're probably one of the only men born in the sixties who thinks that?" she teased.

Gibbs look at her defiantly.

"The world isn't nice to girls," he growled pointedly. "They got to be able to hold their own."

Shannon shook her head.

"How did you get like this?" she murmured – how could he be this guy, this outrageously masculine guy, pride of the Marine Corps, gun-slinging, stereotypical American male – and yet sound like he spent his free time osmotically memorizing Gloria Steinem speeches.

He shook his head a little. Abruptly, he reached out and took Kelly, putting her in his lap, and letting her lay back against his chest. She tilted her head up and reached for his jaw, grasping his skin lightly and cooing at him, and still he looked stern, thoughtful.

"My Ma," he said slowly, as if he was reasoning it out, "couldn't go anywhere. She couldn't do anything but get married. She couldn't leave my Dad, or call 'im out, because she couldn't make a livin' any other way than bein' married to him – Jen," he said, struggling with the name, "Jen never did anything I didn't do, too, and people wore her down until they," he paused, his jaw tensing a little angrily, "until she wasn't Jen anymore. She got this—you said it, Shannon," he said earnestly, "She didn't have any friends anymore."

He shrugged.

"Joan," he began, thinking of Matteson – of the whole impetus for him deciding to guard embassies, in honor of her, her sacrifice, all the things she'd wanted. "Joan enlisted 'cause her whole family enlisted, and her Dad wanted boys, and he got her. She died, tryin' to prove herself."

Shannon bit her lip.

"That's a very sinister way to look at it," she said softly – though not unconvinced.

He shrugged a little, running his fingers lightly over Kelly's soft, thin baby curls. He took her hand, tickling her palm affectionately, thinking about her future – thinking about Natalie, wherever she was, whatever she was doing.

"I don't want anyone to treat my girls like my old man treated Ma," he said darkly. He lifted Kelly up, helping her to stand on his lap, and put his lips close to her ear. "You need to be scary," he growled seriously.

She squealed and squirmed away from his whisper, and he swept her up into a cradle, smiling, but nodding firmly.

"Scary," he repeated, knitting his brow in a mock scary face. "Threatening," he told her.

She reached up and grabbed his nose.

"Da!" she shrieked.

"Daddy," Shannon agreed brightly – whenever Kelly vocalized, Shannon was quick to match the sound to a word that seemed close, in an effort to develop her speech. "Da-dee," she pronounced. She smiled a moment, and then drew her legs back up. "I think we have plenty of time to budget, to plan, for Kelly's college," she said levelly. "I don't like the idea of taking a loan out from foreign authorities, so I thought to best to use your GI bill for my tuition – a Master's in Europe will be cheaper, anyway," she added. She winked. "Socialist democracy!"

Gibbs rolled his eyes, shrugging her off – half the time, he didn't know what she was talking about, when she got political; he never had when Jenny had done that either, half because he didn't care, half because the only thing he voted on was who was going to be the strongest military leader.

"You can have it," he said simply, shrugging. "I like smart women," he added wryly, shooting her a suggestive look.

"I know," she said softly – he quite clearly had a type, not that she knew Jenny well enough to compare herself to the other woman; however, aside from the hair being similar, both she and Jenny had aspired to seize the world – and both had done so, at different costs. Shannon just – perhaps out of a different background, or a less rebellious, angry nature, hadn't felt like she couldn't have an adventure and a family.

But – then again, Jenny's narrative had been characterized by exclusion, ridicule, fear of failing, a child before she was readt –

Shannon cleared her throat, and hesitantly looked at her husband through her lashes.

"Jethro?"

"Hmm?" he grunted.

"I don't think you have to worry about Natalie," she ventured.

He made a derisive, stubborn sort of noise in the back of his throat.

"No," he muttered. "Jen'll get her through college if it kills her," he said dryly – that, he believed.

"She went to college," Shannon said bravely. She swallowed, and pushed on – she hadn't been too forthcoming about her visit, specifically, to Jackson, because she knew Gibbs resisted all talk of his father.

Gibbs gave her a wary look, cutting his eyes narrowly at her. He grunted quietly. Shannon sighed.

"I heard – her father told your father – Jenny, she got a degree. At some school, in California."

Gibbs bristled slightly – for some reason, he didn't like that Shannon knew this, and he didn't; he didn't like that he felt a spark of interest in his ex's life, when for so long he'd moved on from it, and absorbed himself in this life, in this family that actively wanted him, and loved him with purpose and without caveats.

Shannon started to continue, but Gibbs shrugged.

"Good for her," he muttered tensely. "'S'what she wanted," he grumbled. He wasn't sure why Shannon was bringing it up, except maybe she thought it would ease the resentment a little – she had left him because she insisted she couldn't get what she needed if she was married at eighteen and following Gibbs around – and yet –

"You ought to tell her you're about to get a Master's off my GI bill, and you're livin' in Paris," he said, a nasty edge lingering in his tone. "Tell 'er that, in one of your cards," he griped.

Shannon frowned a little.

"You know, our relationship only works because I willingly committed to it; I wanted it," she said.

He looked up sharply.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"I mean," she stressed pointedly, "the military lifestyle is hard, Jethro, you know that – we all know that – and I signed up for it – you've told me a hundred times she never wanted you to go."

"She had her head in the clouds, Shannon," he growled sourly. "If I hadn't joined the Marines, we'd both still be in Stillwater, probably with Natalie locked in a tower so she didn't go get herself knocked up, too," he muttered.

He looked down at his daughter, and then looked up again sharply.

"Why'd you bring this up, to defend her? You about to plead her case again?" he asked sharply. "I told you – she's made 'er bed, Shannon, she can sleep in it as miserably as she wants."

Shannon arched her eyebrows.

"Poetic," she said dryly. She leaned forward, shrugging, and went to tickle Kelly's little feet. Bugsy nudged over and licked Gibbs' knee, whining for attention. She hesitated again. "Natalie is apparently very smart," she said quietly. "Jackson said – she went to a camp, at Stanford – "

"Berkeley," Gibbs grunted unexpectedly. He swallowed hard. "It was Berkeley. That's where she was in that picture Jen gave me, last time I saw 'er. The name is on the lab coat."

"Well, either way, that's very impressive," Shannon complimented in a small voice.

Gibbs didn't know how to take the praise – he didn't know anything about it; he hadn't seen Natalie since she was four or five years old; he hadn't spoken to her since she was six. He wasn't sure he'd recognize her if she stumbled into his path, and all of this stuff, this drama – it was just too exhausting for him to think about anymore.

He lifted Kelly up, and met her blue eyes – blue like Natalie's; blue like his – except Kelly's were also blue like Shannon's. It was so important to him that Kelly know him, love him, and always have faith in his presence. He silently swore he was always going to be there, no matter what, but the thing was – it was an easy promise to make, because he had complete trust in Shannon to never leave him –

-and that was because she was right; they had both chosen this, as adults, who were ready; they were making a life on their own terms, and not terms that had chaotically, immaturely, and unexpectedly been demanded of them, and maybe with each passing year, Gibbs gained a little more perspective – the old intense anger and flickers of hatred that flared when he thought of Jenny had faded over time, and though he still resented her, still harbored a dull ache of pain over losing Natalie, and though he still struggled with guilt, he was able to see clearly how young and confused everything had been back then.

It didn't mean he forgave her for taking the easy way, for cutting him out, for making things so hard on him – but it did mean, that just maybe, he didn't want to crucify her for breaking it off with him. He didn't want to crucify her for leaving, maybe but he still - he still didn't think she had handled it the right way. There was no reason - no reason for him to feel so alienated from Natalie, to feel like Jenny genuinely didn't want him around - no reason for Jenny to have put it all on him, and then blamed him when he couldn't keep up - when Jenny herself didn't even try - God, when he'd found out Jenny kept Jackson's number and let Natalie call him, even encouraged it, but never did the same for Jethro himself - that's why he'd hung up on Jackson that one time; that's why he never called him back.

He just didn't understand. He didn't understand what he'd done that made Jenny want to phase him out of Natalie's life in addition to her own.

He stood up, holding Kelly on his hip.

"I'm takin' her in the ocean," he said gruffly, thinking of the last time he'd seen Natalie. He clicked his tongue at the dog, and Bugsy leapt up, following them with a joyful, excited bark. Shannon leaned back, turning to watch them.

She hoped she hadn't unsettled him too much; she'd just wanted him to know that Natalie was doing okay – and she wasn't sure if she wanted to tell him what Jackson had said, about Natalie asking about him – she was afraid it might send him into some sort of spiral of guilt or darkness, and to a certain extent she did think he'd done all he could, and that now, with their lives so completely separate, and separated by an oceans, there was nothing to do but wait to see what happened when Natalie was old enough to strike out on her own.

Gibbs held Kelly securely away from the water, only wading in up to his knees – Bugsy gnashed her teeth at the waves, her tail wagging madly, splashing through the water without a care in the world. Kelly kept pointing at her and giggling, waving her fingers.

"Yeah, yeah," Gibbs drawled, with a dramatic sigh, "I know Bug's your favorite; that's okay, Kelly, I'll survive," he lamented.

She put her hand on his chest, over his heart, and pointed at the water.

"Da!" she screamed. "Oh. AH!"

Not the most extensive vocabulary, but Gibbs could manage – after all, she was only half a year old, and all of his parental experience was with the infant through toddler age. He had plenty of confidence in his skills right now, but he wondered what the future would be like – he wondered how he'd feel when Kelly was four, or six – or even nine – because he hadn't been around when Natalie was those ages, and he didn't really know what kids were like, then.

It was easy to lock Natalie away in the back of his mind, while he was so far away – he could easily tell himself there was nothing he could do while he was in Europe, while his dinner time was when she was in school, and his early morning was when she went to bed.

He felt sorry, sometimes, for feeling content, for feeling happy with Shannon, and Kelly, and what he had right now, because it had come at the expense of losing Natalie, or his loneliness being so assuaged that he didn't feel so driven to repair what Jenny was careful about keeping broken – but sorry as he felt, and guilty as he sometimes felt, he had Kelly, and he had Shannon, and it was hard to dwell on the past, or take pleasure in the fact that he was living the life he'd promised Jenny he could give her, because he didn't want his life now to be about vindication or proving something to a girl who hadn't wanted it anyway.

---

Kelly was at a very odd age on her first Christmas; she wasn't walking or talking yet, but she was closer to a year old than she was to infancy – and Gibbs wasn't entirely sure she understood what holidays were or how fun Christmas was – but he enjoyed it, and he knew Shannon was reveling in it, too. He'd been in Baghdad last Christmas, and all kinds of hectic training before that – and well, this Christmas was just another indicator of how well things were going, for the time being.

They'd been safely settled in their Parisian housing for a few months, and it finally, just in time for the holiday season, felt like home. As it had been in Germany, State Department housing was outstanding, and the simple but elegant little town house with a small porch and a small yard was the perfect size for a young family with a big, excitable dog. Their neighbors to the right were a French couple, with a son about Kelly's age and an older daughter in first grade, and their neighbors to the left were other State Department employees, so they had a nice mix.

Shannon got along well with the Chevaliers, and often watched their two children, Adele and Luc.

"I think Kelly jingling stopped being cute half an hour ago," Shannon said dryly, looking up from her spot in the kitchen – she was working on a letter to her parents, updating them, and finishing up some Christmas cards.

Gibbs, watching a Christmas movie with an annoyed expression on his face – it was in French – had been on Kelly-observing duty for the past hour, and he'd just started ignoring her persistent rattling of a festive Christmas rattle.

"Kelly never stops being cute," he retorted seriously.

He could almost hear Shannon roll her eyes. He turned up the volume on the TV.

"Drowning her out?" he asked.

"It's just more cacophony!" Shannon hissed, amused.

Gibbs snorted, and turned the TV back down.

"Why can't they dub this stuff?" he asked.

"It is dubbed, Jethro, it's dubbed in French," Shannon told him.

"Subtitles?" he grumbled.

"As if you really need English to tell you what's going on in Rudolph."

He shrugged to himself, and turned over on the couch.

"Kelly," he called, waving for her attention. "Give the rattle a rest, huh?" he suggested.

She threw it at him. Bugsy immediately got up and dashed after it, taking it in his mouth, giving a muffled bark of delight, and trotting right back to Kelly to return her toy. Gibbs glared mildly at the German Shepherd.

"You ever seen The Omen, Shan?" he asked loudly.

"Mm-hmm."

"'Cause sometimes, Bugsy and Kelly remind me of that kid and that big demon Rottweiler."

"Jethro," Shannon said, trying not to laugh. "Don't compare our daughter to the spawn of Satan on Christmas."

Gibbs slid off the couch and crawled towards Kelly, smiling at her when she pointed at him and shrieked. She shook her rattle again, and he crawled over her, gently laying her down on her back and pretending to search her skull for triple digits.

"Hmm," he muttered, while she grabbed at his hand, giggling. "I think she's good – she is an American born in Europe, though. Glad we're not in Rome." he growled. "You sure they gave you the right one, at the hospital?"

"All I have to do is take one look at that baby when she's mad and know immediately that she's yours," Shannon retorted smartly.

"Da," screamed Kelly conversationally. "Da, buh," she said, tilting her head. She turned over and crawled away from him, unsteadily going for Bugsy. Bugsy lowered himself playfully, wagging his tail and blocking her advance.

"Don't get her too riled up, Jethro; it's almost bedtime," Shannon warned.

Gibbs rolled over onto his back and let Kelly crawl over him, unperturbed by her tiny knees in his ribs. He let Bugsy sniff him, too, ignoring her rough tongue – this was his favorite kind of evening, and he relished it for everything it was worth – just the ability to be able to play with his baby daughter, without being exhausted from two jobs, or having to do homework, or having to worry about her mother getting home before a nine-thirty curfew.

"You excited for Christmas, Kel? Hmm? Santa? Pere Noel?" he drawled.

"I don't think that's actually French for Santa Claus," Shannon informed him.

"Pipe down," growled Gibbs playfully. "I'll show you father Christmas later, Mrs. Claus."

"Gross," Shannon snorted.

Gibbs grinned at Kelly, and gave her a wink.

"Deep down, she loves me," he confided, raising his voice pointedly. He heard Shannon laugh in the kitchen, and he leaned up to kiss Kelly's cheek. "Got sugarplums in that head yet?" he asked solemnly.

Kelly put her hand over his face and smushed his nose, crinkling her brow cutely. He pretended to be overpowered, letting his head fall back. She tapped on him, and then squealed, poking at his cheeks. She squealed again, insistently.

"Jethro, stop doing whatever you're doing to her," Shannon warned. "I don't like it when she does that squeal. It's her scared squeal."

Gibbs let his eyes fly open, letting Kelly know he was okay. She opened her mouth wide, startled, and then burst into laughter, rolling over and tumbling off his chest onto the floor. He twisted his head and watched her crawl – she was so good at crawling now, and once or twice, she'd even pulled herself up and held shakily on to something.

"I'm right here," he said to Kelly. He smiled at her. "'M not goin' anywhere, hmm? Promise."

He shifted, and hauled himself up easily, swinging Kelly into the cradle of his arms deftly. He carried her into the kitchen.

"You want me to do bedtime?" he asked, opening the refrigerator.

"Hmm?" Shannon muttered. "Oh – no, there's no milk ready, I need to feed her," she said, gesturing to herself.

Gibbs shut the fridge and gave Kelly a solemn look.

"You see them more than I do, you know," he told her seriously.

Shannon threw her head back and groaned.

"You're so full of shit, Jethro," she said, trying not to laugh – and failing. "God, don't – shut-up, you're so annoying," she said, still laughing.

Gibbs smiled smugly, wandering over towards her. He shot a look at whatever she was writing – she always wrote more diligent letters to her parents around the holidays, and he knew they were in for holiday pictures this time, too. They'd had a family photo taken at Shannon's insistence – and Gibbs had obediently managed to look half-way not miserable in it – but there had been a delay in developing, so they were going out late.

That, and Gibbs had been sent on temporary duty to Marseilles, and since he was going to be there for two weeks, he'd brought Shannon and Kelly with them, and they'd enjoyed the change of scenery and the different side of France.

"We have plenty of sex – we have more sex than most new parents – "

"Shannon," he barked, "stop being vulgar in front of the baby!"

She turned and looked at him, her eyes shining mischievously.

"Why are you being so silly?" she asked fondly. She scrunched her face up, blew a kiss to Kelly, and then nodded her head at the living room. "Finish Rudolph with her, then I'll put her to bed," she said. "Maybe she can teach you some French. Oui, Kelly-belle? Oui?"

Kelly pointed at Shannon.

"Ma," she said, very seriously.

Shannon nodded proudly.

"Mama," she agreed.

Gibbs started to walk by, intending to give Shannon a quick kiss before he went back to the couch, but he paused when he saw the things she had out, his eyes scanning vaguely – he knew she was behind on her Christmas cards – he counted three envelopes, and three family photos – Jackson Gibbs, Joanne and Mackenzie Fielding, and –

He stuck his hand out and stiffly plucked the envelope with Jennifer Shepard and Natalie Gibbs scrawled on it. He looked again at the photos.

"Shannon," he said shortly, balancing Kelly on his hip. "You're not sendin' this photo to them," he said – and he wasn't sure himself if it was a question, or an order.

She leaned back, and hesitated a moment, looking up at him guardedly.

"I was planning on it," she said neutrally. "It's a nice photo, and they always get a card – "

"Sendin' cards is one thing, Shannon, sending – this is like a damn birth announcement or something," he growled.

She blinked at him calmly, and shrugged.

"I decided there's not so much wrong with that," she said simply. She paused a moment, and then folded her arms. "We don't intend to keep Natalie a secret from Kelly – I think it's fair that we give Jenny and Natalie the same respect."

"I didn't see you sendin' her a wedding invitation," he retorted sharply. "You send this, and Natalie gets curious, Jen'll – she's likely to go ballistic – "

Shannon looked slightly defiant.

"Maybe it's time someone extended a hand, Jethro," she said. "I thought – it did occur to me that seeing that could bring up some questions, and if you sign the card, and put your phone number, like you used to – "

"I thought I told you I was done with this?" he interrupted harshly.

Shannon compressed her lips tightly. She didn't like his tone, but she wasn't exactly unprepared for this kind of push back. He was, understandable, paranoid about ticking Jenny off, especially since Jenny seemed to think he was such a threat to Natalie. Shannon took a deep breath, remaining calm – Kelly stared at Gibbs, fussing very softly. She poked at his chest. Gibbs didn't react to it.

"Natalie is – she's, let's see, eighty-four – she's ten, Jethro," Shannon said.

"I know how old – "

"Ten," Shannon said, speaking over him. "That's still young, that's pre-teenage, that's – it's before convictions, or hard-to-break ideas have set in – and Kelly's young, and I think it might be better if we opened a line of communication while Kelly is young, too, so she's not confused – "

"What the hell does she have to be confused about? If Natalie shows up one day, Natalie shows up – s'like you said, we're not hiding her –"

"But it's still going to be weird, and possibly traumatic for Kelly," snapped Shannon, "You don't know how you're going to feel – and what if Kelly feels neglected, or like you're distracted now that your first, real daughter – "

"You told me you weren't threatened by them," Gibbs snarled. "You told me years ago, you didn't – "

"I'm not threatened by Jennifer Shepard," Shannon confirmed tensely. "Whatever residual feelings you have for that woman will never pose a threat to me because your wounded pride over what she did would hold you back even if she walked through the door and begged you – "

"You think I still have feelings for her?" he shouted.

He didn't realize he'd gotten so loud, and Kelly made her distressed squeal. Shannon turned in her chair and reached for the baby, soothing her softly. She shot Gibbs a narrow look.

"Well," she said crisply, "neither of you ever pretended your relationship ended because you fell out of love, and she had your baby – "

"That doesn't – "

"It means a lot more than you think – you know it does!" Shannon interrupted. "I had your baby, too, I know what kind of connection that is, I know what it feels like – and I don't think even what happened between the two of you erases that first love, not after what you went through."

He felt cornered and he – he was seething, suddenly; the idea that he could even – bear the tiniest bit of – even slight emotional attachment to Jen, buried under everything else he'd felt about her, and everything else she caused –

"Look, Jethro, I trust you, and I love you, and I believe your heart belongs to me, but I feel like something needs to be done – you backed off, you took your time off, you laid dormant exactly like she asked, but I just wonder – "

"I had to quit wondering, Shannon, Jesus!" he snapped. "I'm tellin' you again – I'm not fighting that battle anymore, I'm not gonna throw myself at Jen like it was my fault!"

"You don't have to throw yourself at Jenny – I want Natalie to know that you – that we – are okay with her contacting us, maybe a little nudge to know that it isn't you who has forgone contact – "

Gibbs stared at her, and as he did, she flushed. It was – it was sneaky, and she knew it, and he recognized it, too, and it was out of character for her. She admitted to herself that she had struggled with the idea of, even subtly, undermining another mother, but lately, watching Jethro be a father to Kelly, she'd just had this little ache in her heart about the whole Natalie fiasco.

"What the hell's gotten into you?" he demanded. "We got a good thing going," he said roughly.

"I'm not trying to ruin anything we have," she pleaded. She shifted again and took Kelly from him – the baby was getting understandably fidgety and wary. "I – "

"Were you gonna tell me about this, or were you hopin' one of them would ambush me – Natalie, asking for Daddy, or Jen, ripping me a new one for it?" he went on aggressively.

She grit her teeth.

"It's a gesture, Jethro, I wasn't writing a letter, I didn't make calls, I just – I feel like you're in this detached zone about it, and I know – I can just tell that you want to know how that little girl is, how could you not – "

"What'm I supposed to do, Shannon, let it eat me alive?" he barked. "'Course I want to know how she is! She's my kid! But I - I had to move on – I have a family right here that wants me around, and I don't need you bringin' Jen into that -

"This is not about Jen, it's about Natalie!"

"Why the hell do you think you can have one without the other?" Gibbs snapped. "You'd never let Kelly go to some strange woman's house, you'd never keep your nose out of someone you didn't know involved in your child's life – you sure as hell shouldn't think Jenny would, and I wouldn't ask her to!"

Shannon grit her teeth.

"You're overreacting," she snarled. "Sending a Christmas card to your daughter is not overstepping, it's not inappropriate – and I am thinking of you, I am trying to do what I can to be supportive – Jethro, I see you with Kelly, I see how good you are to her, what an amazing father you are, and I see every day how much you love her, and it breaks my heart – because now, from a whole different perspective, I know how hard it must have be for you to miss Natalie, and not see her, and I want you to know I would always welcome her, but I have to consider protecting my child now, too, and if Natalie shows up in ten years, troubled or something – "

Gibbs held his hand up.

"You got this idea goin' that you're the savior, you're gonna fix the whole goddamn mess," he swore. "You saved me, Shannon, you fixed me, you got me through – but this is not your place, you can't – this is Jen's mess, and she's gonna fix it. She's gonna face it."

Kelly put her hands up, reaching for Gibbs. She squealed twice, her face crumpling, and Shannon stood up.

"You're scaring the baby," she snapped.

"You started this fight!" he shouted.

"Not out of spite, Jethro, not out of an intent to hurt you – I just don't ever want to feel resented, or like I was an excuse, or part of the reason you gave up – "

"I didn't give up, Jen gave up – "

"Oh, at some point, you both gave up, just admit it!" Shannon shouted, her brow darkening. "You gave up after Desert Storm because it was easier, you gave up after Hawaii, she gave up because she was nineteen and stupid – you both gave up!"

Shannon stood there, her face red, and before Gibbs could take stock of what she'd said, Kelly's face crumpled, she curled her hands into fists near her eyes, and started sobbing, her body shaking – she genuinely did look scared.

Hiding her face, Shannon whirled away and left the kitchen.

"I'm done with the damn Christmas cards," Shannon said harshly, her voice tensely controlled. She shoved a chair violently as she left for the stairs. "It's up to you to keep sending them."

He started forward, heard Kelly's volume rise, and decided against it, stepping back. He wouldn't do any good by following her when they were this tense – and he wasn't sure how to handle it, anyway; he and Shannon never really had huge fights, and they'd never had a fight like this about – Natalie. It felt – scary to him, fighting over Natalie – over another woman, essentially, another woman's child.

Gibbs leaned against the back of a chair stiffly, looking down at the assortment of Christmas cards – he felt tempted to rip up the one for Jen – he felt like this was her fault, even though he was the one who had been so negative – but why would Shannon do that, stir things up? Things had – settled, they had a rhythm—

She had to understand that keeping the past in the past was even harder for him during the holidays, that he thought about his mistakes, and the events of his life, more at Christmas, and Easter – the days he always used to reserve for calls to Natalie?

Gibbs looked at the things on the table a moment longer, and then he went into the living room and sat down on the couch, replaying the argument, trying to figure out what he wanted. He didn't want to go through it all again – they were so far past it now, so far removed; he was settled at where he was with the whole thing, but he should understand why Shannon was worried about it all blowing up one day, and of course he should try to see why it would start to make her nervous, that he appeared to just let it go, since they had a baby now, too, and she was worried about how it might affect Kelly.

He wished he hadn't seen the photo, wished it hadn't come up at all – chances were, Natalie would see it, show it to Jenny, ask a question, and then be told not to ask anymore or – or something. Without him in her life anymore, Natalie had probably just accepted that she didn't have a dad like everyone else, and moved on.

Gibbs rubbed his jaw, looking down at his hands – he wondered how long he should wait to seek out Shannon and see if she wanted to talk, or make up or – well, he figured he should come up with something to say first; did he owe her an apology? He tended to think he didn't, but Shannon was usually more attuned to when people owed her an apology and Gibbs, er, always tended to think he was right.

He kept thinking about what she said last, about giving up, both of them – he balked at accepting that; he hadn't given up, he hadn't given up on his child – Jenny hadn't, he didn't think so – granted, he didn't know much about Natalie, but he would never think for a second that Jenny was doing as best as she could – he didn't want to be accused of abandoning her, of some sort of relief. Jenny had all the power in the relationship - she could say whatever she wanted to Natalie, paint it however she wanted, and Gibbs, as much as he sometimes hated himself for just backing off like he did, was always worried that he would seem threatening or scary if he pestered Jenny incessantly - if Natalie didn't know him, wouldn't she just seem him as some aggressor who stressed her mother out? Jenny had made it - so twisted, so much more complicated than it should be - Shannon, telling him he gave up - well, maybe he had, but Jenny's overreactions about Natalie were just so - absurd. For God's sake, Jenny had divorced parents - but for some reason she insisted that an absentee father was better than an intermittent one.

He rubbed his face, letting his palms rest over his eyes for a moment tiredly. He knew – he had known for a long time – that he was never really going to be able to move on from this part of his life; a child was a child, and as long as Natalie lived and breathed, he and Jenny were connected, and there was a chance they'd have to face each other again someday – but he so, so badly did not want to face the humiliation, the anxiety, the disappointment that always came with trying to reach out.

He was also genuinely afraid of what it would do to Natalie, if he and Jen couldn't get along, if she felt pressured, pulled in different directions, hurt – et cetera.

"Jethro?"

Shannon called his name softly, and he looked up. She was standing there, in her pajamas now, her hair pulled back messily. She chewed on her lip as she looked at him, and then she came around and sat beside him gingerly, pushing strands of loose hair behind her ears.

He looked at her a moment, and then looked warily back down at his hands.

"Kelly asleep?"

Shannon nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, she's okay," she said thickly. "A snuggle, and I nursed her, and she's…okay," she said.

Gibbs looked back at her, and noticed her eyes were red. He felt horrible, that she'd been upset enough to cry, but he wanted to – stand his ground, too. She'd said that she chose to be with him – well, that meant she chose the baggage, and at some point, she'd agreed to follow his lead when he had decided that the meeting in Pendleton was the end of it.

She took a shaky breath.

"Jethro," she began. She put her hand to her chest. "Your father told me something when I was in Stillwater, and it's been bothering me," she said hoarsely. "He told me Natalie called him. She called him, and she asked why you and Jenny broke up. She called Jasper Shepard and asked him the same thing."

Gibbs lifted his head heavily, meeting her eyes. He raised his brows just a little, the barest flicker of hope glancing through the lines on his face. He cleared his throat.

"Yeah?" he asked.

His wife nodded.

"They both – they both told her she needed to take it up with her mother, because – well, I'm sure they didn't want to get in the middle, or they don't – know what happened," she went on softly, "but – she called, Jethro. She asked."

Gibbs nodded. He swallowed hard – and it did make him feel something, because he wondered what had provoked it, what had spurred her. Jenny had always said she'd let Natalie ask and she'd let Natalie reach out, but he wondered if Jenny had even tried – not that Jenny would know where he was, because the only clue she ever probably had was whatever return address Shannon put on the cards. He himself – didn't even know where she lived now, if she was still with her mother; if she was still in California at all.

He'd threatened her; he'd told her he'd hold doors wide open for Natalie, he'd never deny her, but now he wondered if he was a coward. Shannon had once said he was afraid of rejection – maybe he was. He couldn't stand the thought of Natalie not liking him, or of having her back briefly just for something to – not work out.

He lifted his shoulders, and sighed heavily.

"I don't want you thinkin' bad of me, Shannon," he said huskily, hesitating thickly, "but I can't," he shook his head. "She threw a fit over me tryin' from Quantico. We're in Europe. It's an easy out for her, and I can't take it again. I can't."

He shook his head again, closing his eyes tightly.

"'M sorry I yelled at you," he muttered. "'M sorry I scared Kelly."

"I scared her, too," Shannon said fairly. "I – I was going behind your back. It was shady, it – it would have ambushed you," she admitted. She reached out for him, and put her arm around his shoulders. "I know how much you love Natalie, Jethro," she said sincerely. "I'm – I'm just trying to take care of you; trying to be a somewhat – outside perspective."

He nodded; he appreciated that, and he did need it – but he wasn't ready to make an changes, take any steps – he was still adamant that it come from Jenny, from Natalie; he didn't know if that would ever happen, but sometimes it felt like it didn't matter. He'd already missed so much; Natalie would probably never want to be anything to him, except the little girl he never saw grow up.

"I love you," Shannon murmured, pressing her lips to his cheek. "Let's just go to bed, hmm?" she asked, squeezing his shoulders.

He nodded, touching her hand gently; silently indicating he'd be up in a minute. She kissed his cheek again, got up, and turned the television off, quietly tiptoeing up the stairs. He closed his eyes in relief – glad that they wouldn't be going to bed angry; glad that things were going to be okay. Fighting made him nervous; any rumbles of unhappiness made him wary – all because he seemed to have missed the signs, way back then, in Stillwater.

He sat on the couch for a long time, thinking, and then he got up, dragging his feet as he went to turn off all the lights. He hesitated in the kitchen, looking intently at the Christmas card mess still strewn over the table. He looked around, as if he was being watched, and then he sat down, looking at the pictures of himself, Shannon, Kelly, and – Bugsy. Bugsy, the dog; Bugsy, the canine big sister – Bugsy, a cheap imitation of Natalie – no matter how beloved, the German Shepard was not his Bug.

Gibbs put the photo aside, and pulled the card intended for Jenny and Natalie towards him. He looked at it thoughtfully, a little painfully, and then he picked up a pen. He hesitated, and then he very slowly, and very simply, wrote 'Merry Christmas. Daddy.'

He hesitated. He knew Shannon usually signed the cards 'Gibbs' or 'Jethro.' He almost marked it out, and instead, he left it. He just left it. He sealed the letter – leaving the photo out, he wasn't ready for that – he sealed it, and he wondered if wherever she was, Jenny would notice the change of handwriting, and think anything of it.

---

On an early autumn afternoon, Gibbs left one of the younger Marines in charge and headed out to meet his family for some downtime and some sightseeing – though he wasn't exactly sure if he'd call it downtime, since his in-laws were visiting, and despite his extremely limited contact with them – he'd met them in-person once, while he and Shannon were at Quantico – he distinctly felt that they, especially Joanne Fielding, judged him completely only whatever reputation he had in Stillwater – and didn't like him.

They had arrived for a much-anticipated – by Shannon – visit about two days ago, but as they were staying in a hotel for their two weeks in Paris, and as Gibbs had been assisting the Paris based NCIS agents with an investigation, he hadn't seen them yet.

Just because he felt it made him look more formidable and respectable, he didn't bother to change into civilian attire as he made his way to the grassy knolls outside the Eiffel tower; he kept his Marine Corps uniform on. He knew Shannon liked him in it, anyway, and Kelly would probably recognize him easier.

Turns out, he was right about that last part – when he arrived in the general location where he was supposed to be, and spotted his wife on a picnic blanket with her parents, he saw Shannon tap Kelly's shoulder and point, an exaggerated happy expression on her face. Kelly turned and pointed at him, pleased.

He grinned at her – she'd been walking for the whole summer, since just after her first birthday, and she was even getting real good at running – which was why he always gave her the chance to practice. He stopped and crouched down a little, motion towards himself with her hands. He glanced up, saw Shannon nod, and Kelly was allowed to dart towards him, two modest pigtails flying behind her.

"Da Da," she said primly, when he picked her up and held her easily on one arm, touching her nose playfully with his index finger. She immediately reached for his cover. "Hat," she said.

"Huh-uh," he said gently, holding it on his head. "Daddy has to keep his cover on. It's the rules," he said solemnly, carrying her slowly over to the rest of the company. "Here," he said, untucking his dog tags from his collar and letting her hold them. "Shiny."

She clicked them together and blew a kiss at him, laying her head on his shoulder. Holding the tags in one hand, she pointed at the looming pride of Paris, her tiny fingers wiggling with excitement.

"Big," she said. "Da Da, so big. SO BIG!"

"So big," he agreed. He stopped at the edge of the white and red checkered blanket, nodding at the Eiffel tower. "Did Mommy take you to the top?"

Shannon reached up for Kelly, and Gibbs handed her down.

"No," drawled Shannon smugly. "We waited for you, Daddy," she answered wryly.

Gibbs shot her a disgruntled look – he'd said he had no interest in climbing the Eiffel tower – or taking the elevator, he was fine with them doing it without him.

"Jethro," Shannon's father said – Mackenzie Fielding stood up and extended his hand, gripping Gibbs' elbow as they gave each other a firm, greeting handshake.

Gibbs nodded at him, and tipped his hat politely to Joanne, sitting down with them easily – he inclined his head civilly.

"You guys have a good flight? Hotel suit you?" he asked.

"It's extremely satisfactory," Joanne said, ever ready with the formalities. "I'm impressed with your suggestion – how did you know of it?" she asked, almost as if she were suspicious of his connections.

He consider joking that the Mob told him, but Shannon would probably kick him – she told him constantly that her mother really didn't appreciate sly jokes.

"Asked around, when you decided to come," he said gruffly. "One of the political officers recommended it."

Mack nodded.

"It's very nice, yeah," he agreed. "Good location, easy to get to the attractions – Shannon tells me you'll be fine with missing the Louvre? We saw it this morning."

Gibbs turned a grateful eye to his wife, and she smirked, rolling her eyes.

"The only art Jethro recognizes is the art of woodwork," Shannon snorted. "Though, he's very talented," she added, smiling and leaning over to kiss him. "How was work?"

He shrugged, muttering a little – NCIS agents had been prowling around his office all day, commandeering Gibbs' systems and connections to search for some suspected Hamas terrorist, driving him crazy – he was good friends with the lead NCIS agent from the Paris office, but damn, if the man couldn't be annoying as hell.

"Leon wants us to come for dinner," he remarked, thinking of the agent.

"Oh, as an apology for keeping you so late last week?" Shannon asked, amused. "I'll call Jackie, then – but we should have them over, and we should offer to watch Kayla – I bet they're dying to get out."

"Kelly hates Kayla," Gibbs said seriously.

"She'll live."

"Who is Kayla?" Joanne asked with interest, her eyes sharp.

"One of the federal agents Gibbs liaises with sometimes, he and his wife have a daughter about Kelly's age - they're couple friends," Shannon said easily.

"But Kelly doesn't like this child?" Joanne asked.

Shannon laughed.

"They're toddlers, they don't feel anything for longer than ten seconds – Jethro just says that because – oh, it' s a running joke, don't worry about it, Mom," Shannon sighed.

Joanne looked affronted, and Gibbs held out his hands when Kelly got up from Shannon's lap and strolled over to him, stepping around his legs and standing close to his shoulder. She rested her chin on him, and reached for his dog tags.

"Da Da," she said shyly. "Where Buggy?"

"Hey, where is Bugsy?" Shannon asked. "I thought you were bringing her?"

Gibbs patted Kelly's head.

"I left Bugsy at home, honey," he said. "Thought she might get restless, if we decided to go to eat or something," he explained. He caught Shannon's eye. "I didn't drop by the house," he said - -but intuitively, he knew Joanne didn't like the dog much, and she confirmed that quickly.

"For the best, I would think," she sniffed. "I still can't believe you let Kelly roll around with that animal, Shannon – she could get fleas, or – "

"Well, it's a really good thing I don't let my dog get dirty enough for fleas," Shannon interrupted, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. She arched her brow at her mother. "I've been considering commissioning a saddle for Bugsy and teaching Kelly how to ride her."

Her mother looked scandalized, but Mackenzie laughed, heartily amused by the jest. He nodded at his granddaughter.

"She's a feisty little thing; I reckon she'd do it," he complimented.

Kelly looked at him, entranced by his laughter, and then giggled shrilly. She walked over to him and sat next to him, putting her hand on his jeans.

"Big," she said conversationally, pointing up at the Eiffel tower. "So big."

"She has a one track mind," snorted Shannon. "But, before we venture up, I thought we'd make a plan – ah, Mom wants to make a plan," she said, shooting Jethro a covert but apologetic look – but he didn't mind if his mother-in-law wanted to call the shots; he was here to be accommodating and unobtrusive, and prove to her he was absolutely a worthy man for her daughter.

Not that her opinion mattered at all now; counting the years they'd just been friends and friends alone, he'd been tied to Shannon for eight long years – as long as, or maybe longer, than he'd even known Jen – Jen, he'd met when she was twelve or so, when she'd moved to Stillwater; Jen he'd started dating when she was fourteen and he was fifteen.

"Plans save lives," Gibbs said seriously. "Miss the days when I left the planning to the officers," he added a little wryly – not that he was an officer in the conventional sense, but he was, at this point, a mid-level non-commissioned officer, and he had plenty of paperwork and overseeing to do.

Kelly came back over to Gibbs and touched his face.

"Da Da," she whispered. "Hold."

He picked her up, but he raised his eyebrows at her – he was sitting, how did she want to be held? She touched his shoulders, and he ducked his head a little, lifting her, and placing her easily on them. She planted her hands firmly on his cover, flattening it a little, and giggled, kicking him lightly as she looked around.

He didn't flinch.

"Shannon, if you want to go out to some nice place for dinner, spend some time with your parents alone, I can take Kelly home when she's tired," he said simply, grabbing her foot and pretending to eat it.

"DA DA!" she screamed, in melodramatic protest. He tickled her knee and then squeezed her foot affectionately, eyeing his in laws for their reaction.

"We don't need her alone," Mack said, his brow furrowed. "Hell, wouldn't want you to miss out on a nice dinner – leave you home alone with the kid?" he snorted, sharing a wry look with his wife. "Now, in my day, that was a man's worst nightmare," he joked.

Gibbs gave him an intent look.

"Jethro always watches Kelly while I'm at school," Shannon said – she'd started taking classes this summer, working towards a masters at the American University in Paris. Despite being quite good at French, her knowledge was still basic and she wanted to take her classes in English.

She laughed.

"Dad, you think I'd let my husband get away with making me do all the work? Tsk, tsk," she clicked her tongue, knowing full well that's exactly what her own mother had done. "Besides, sometimes I think Gibbs is better at it than me – all that practice," she said, looking at them – her cheeks flushing with just a little bit of pride.

Maybe it was Marine training, maybe it was just general experience with already having had a small child – she wasn't sure, but Gibbs was just a force to be reckoned with when it came to parenting – nothing fazed him, nothing bothered him, he didn't snap or get irritable at Kelly – though sometimes she chalked it up to him trying to make up for Natalie, by being twice the father to Kelly.

Joanne Fielding gave a small, sniffing noise, and then she nodded, her eyes on her little granddaughter.

"I must say, you're good with her," she said, and Gibbs tried not to fall over in shock at the praise. "I didn't know what to think when Shannon and up and married you – and then, having a baby, well, you know, I just wondered if she'd end up by herself, but you've been much different than I –

"Mother," Shannon said sharply.

Gibbs helped Kelly down from his shoulders, adjusting his hat as he swept her into a cradle and bent his head to her playfully, ignoring his mother-in-law – he wasn't surprised; he should have known that compliment was going to be backhanded.

The Fieldings were old money royalty, Shannon had always been honest about that; they'd been from the rural plantation areas of Pennsylvania, and they'd still turned their noses up at the scandal – no doubt kept updated by Melissa Fielding.

Gibbs had no intention of saying anything at all, but he was slightly started that Shannon kept going.

"I don't know what you think you know about Gibbs' older daughter, but I can tell you right now everything that happened had nothing to do with him, he never shirked his responsibilities or deliberately turned his back on that child, and there is no one in this entire world who I would rather be Kelly's father," she said firmly – and a little roughly. "You can keep any further comments on the damned Stillwater Scandal," she noted sarcastically, "to yourself."

Joanne looked appropriately mollified, and Gibbs arched his brows at Kelly, not daring to look up at Shannon, afraid he'd smirk too smugly – Shannon was never abrasive with her parents; behind their backs, she rolled her eyes or lightly mocked their old fashioned, stuffy tendencies, but she never pushed back, really – she wasn't a rebel, she'd just left and lived outside their jurisdiction instead.

"I don't think I deserve to be spoken to – "

"Well, you aren't going to come to my home, my – part of the world, and start hurling half-baked insults at my husband – "

Mackenzie cleared his throat, leaning forward.

"I could go for a cup of coffee," he said to Gibbs, his voice dry. "You, ah – you?"

"Lead the way," Gibbs muttered.

He got up, as Mack gestured over towards a line of shops across a couple of streets, and Gibbs silently indicated to Shannon that he was taking Kelly with him. He held her securely in one arm, glad to take the trek with Mack.

"I don't have much tolerance for their bickering," Mack said lightly. "Girls and their mothers – 'm sorry Jo brought all that up, son," he added, a little grudgingly.

Gibbs shrugged, staying silent – he wasn't going to engage on the subject; he rarely engaged with Shannon on it, and she was his closest confidant; she knew everything she could. Since their fight at Christmas – since it had fallen to him to start sending the cards if he wanted to maintain that tiny contact, and he'd decided to do it – it had been an almost absolutely taboo subject.

"Joanne would prefer people think she dislikes them, so they bend over backwards to impress her," Mack continued, reaching over to tickle Kelly's stomach fondly. Kelly giggled, and snuggled up to Gibbs contently. She picked at the Velcro nametag on his uniform; Gibbs was reminded of Natalie doing the same, years and years ago. "I know you're a good man, Jethro, I trust Shannon," Mack said simply.

"Appreciate it," Gibbs said, somewhat stiffly.

He wasn't sure what Mackenzie's angle was, and he wasn't sure he liked it.

"You know my sister, Melissa?" Mack asked.

Gibbs grit his teeth – of course he remembered Melissa; the woman Shannon had lived with when she did her senior year at Stillwater High, the self-righteous bible thumper who had refused, even at Jasper Shepard's orders, to hire Jenny in her dress shop, the – the bitch who'd been as ruthless about Jenny as younger, less mature girls like Betsy Carmichael and Maggie Hart. Of course – Gibbs simply nodded, rather than dare remind Mackenzie that his sister was a dried up, mean hag.

"She was always harping on about the whole ordeal, gossiping with Jo, telling Jo that Shannon was romanticizing it, all that," Mack said. "I always just thought Shannon had more of a heart that anyone else, with their noses in everyone's business," he said gruffly. "I wondered what she was doin,' for a while there, when she took up with you, but I can't see why it matters."

Mackenzie got the door of the first coffee place they came to, and held it open, waving Gibbs through. He shrugged, and gave Gibbs an intent look, stepping into the line.

"Shannon's very happy," he said simply. "Guess what I'm tryin' to say is, ignore my wife," he said gruffly. "According to her, Shannon was supposed to marry a doctor, stay at home – not gallivant around the world with a Marine who disrespected some girl in high school – her thoughts, not mine," Mack said shortly.

Gibbs ran his hand over Kelly's back, looking at the other man intently for a moment. He tilted his head, tightening his jaw.

"Not yours?" he provoked – Shannon had always given the impression that both of her parents were less than forgiving about the whole thing.

Mackenzie looked at him a long time.

"People shouldn't be judged by their mistakes," he said seriously. "They should be judged by how they handle them. And if Shannon knows why you stopped being involved in – ah, I forget her name – in that Shepard girl's kid's life, and Shannon accepts it, no one else has a place to stick their nose."

Gibbs wrinkled his brow slightly, and nodded. He turned a little, stepping up in line, deciding he wasn't going to address it anymore – he wasn't, except to say:

"Natalie."

"What's that?" Mack asked, cupping his ear.

"Natalie," Gibbs repeated. "My bastard's name," he said, a little dryly, a little edgily. "Natalie."

Mack nodded, stepping up to the counter. Gibbs turned to Kelly, waiting his turn to order, and he smiled at her.

"Want some coffee?" he asked seriously. "Espresso, no sugar – hmm?" he asked.

Kelly stuck her hand on his mouth.

"Shhh," she said primly.

He pretended to bite her fingers, and she pulled her hand back, in time for him to quickly order just that – an espresso, black – and step to the side, to wait.

"Shannon tells me you two will be in Paris several more years?" Mack asked, taking his coffee when it was read.

Gibbs nodded.

"Assigned until ninety-eight," he answered gruffly. It was the same year he'd be up to re-contract with the Marines, if that's what he decided to do – if not, it would be on to another embassy, hopefully not a hazard post.

Mack whistled.

"Never knew Marines did this," he admitted. "Hell of a set up."

Gibbs nodded.

"We like it," he agreed, taking his coffee, too – Shannon was thriving, still thrilled with the romance of living all over the world, Kelly was content anywhere, Iraq and Kuwait were behind them – it was a good life, and Gibbs was proud of it; Gibbs was happy to live it, happy to come home at night, happy when he woke up.

"She mentioned a trip to Prague, for her birthday?"

Gibbs shrugged.

"We're thinkin' about it," he said. "Thinkin' about Barcelona for our next anniversary," he added – but they wanted to see if the Vances, Leon and Jackie, would be up for watching Kelly for a few days – the single bad thing about having no family, or truly close, ties near was that they rarely had a chance to go on a kid-free vacation.

Gibbs didn't mind much, but Shannon thought it would be nice.

"That's the life," Mack said, clapping him on the back with a grin. "Barely a year old, and my granddaughter's got more culture in 'er than a petri dish."

Gibbs snorted – he'd have to repeat that one to Shannon, she'd die laughing at the joke.

They made their way back towards the Eiffel tower, slowly, with Mack dragging his feet, remarking that the slower they were, the more likely Joanne and Shannon were to be done sniping at each other.

"And they'll probably have planned the whole night for us – you just got to listen to the women, Jethro, listen to the women," he said good-naturedly. He looked at Kelly. "You got that, Princess? You're the ones who are really in charge."

Kelly looked straight at him, blinked thoughtfully, took a deep breath, and said:

"Birdies."

Mack laughed, and Gibbs grinned at her, looking up – he didn't see any; he wasn't sure why she said it, but even at her young age, Kelly could be whimsical – that much was already clear. She had a much different personality than Natalie; she was very vivacious, where Natalie at her age had always been quiet, thoughtful – smart, and warm, but more…reserved; almost as if she understood that everyone was always watching her and talking about her and using everything she did as a unit with which to measure her parents' performance.

"Big," Kelly said, spotting the tower suddenly. "Da Da, so big," she reminded him. "Want big."

"We're goin' up, Kel, we are," he assured her. "Think you can touch a cloud while we're up there."

"Oh!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, what?" Shannon asked. As they approached, she was standing and gathering up their things, and she heard Kelly's sigh of happiness. "Oh no? Oh yes? Oh?" she teased, scrunching her nose at Kelly.

"Oh, big," Kelly sighed.

"Yes indeed, big, big, big," Shannon soothed. She walked up, and promptly kissed Shannon right on the nose, making the little girl squeal. "Daddy's going to hold you so tight, all the way to the top – you ready?"

Kelly babbled a little unintelligibly, and then said:

"Da Da hat."

"Well, maybe you can put his hat on at the tippy-top, where none of his commanding officers would know he took it off outside," Shannon whispered conspiratorially – poor Kelly, her love of hats was legendary, and she was always sad when she couldn't wear Daddy's uniform cover outside.

"The Eiffel Tower, Mack," Joanne said. "Then, if Kelly's still in good spirits, we're going to the Tuileries gardens – but Shannon insists that Jethro is taking Kelly home, that she won't go to dinner with us – "

"Sounds fine, Jo, let 'em be," Mack said.

Shannon leaned into Gibbs and gave him a sly look.

"I got you off the hook – you can order whatever you want at home, just don't feed Kelly chicken nuggets again," she said smartly – she'd found out recently that, despite being wholeheartedly committed to watching Kelly and doing a good job of it while Shannon was at her master's classes, Gibbs always fed her chicken nuggets when it was his job to provide dinner.

"She likes chicken nuggets," Gibbs said seriously.

Kelly nodded vigorously.

"See?"

Shannon rolled her eyes good naturedly. She rose up on tiptoes a bit, to kiss his jaw, and she lowered her voice.

"I don't know why she said that," she said huskily. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," he said sincerely.

"Yes, but – "

"Shannon," he said edgily. "It's fine."

She nodded, and dropped the subject. He started forward, all of them getting together in a little group.

"Lead the way, Shanny," Mack said, using her old – hated, if Gibbs remembered correctly – childhood nickname.

Shannon stuck her tongue out at him, and took Kelly from Gibbs, pointing in the direction they needed to start to get tickets. She reached out, sticking her hand into the pocket on the back of Gibbs' Marine uniform comfortably, and cleared her throat.

"Here's some gossip," she said dryly. "Your father- - it seems, according to my mother, that he's cozy with Deborah Henry," she revealed.

Gibbs gave her a baleful look.

"Debbie Henry?" he asked dryly. "That Debbie Henry?"

As in – the one who Jenny had worked for; the one who had, probably with relish, essentially broken the news that Jenny was gone?

"Is there any other?" Shannon sighed.

Gibbs shook his head. He raised his eyes.

"Damn small town," he swore under his breath.

Shannon laughed, and moved a little closer to him, turning to answer a question her father was asking her, and Gibbs glanced over to catch Kelly's eye, always happy to see her there, always happier when she looked back and grinned at him, or gave him a little wave – he wondered if back in Stillwater, Deborah Henry was disappointed that Jackson Gibbs didn't have a lick of gossip to tell her about where his son was now.

---

Gibbs had spent the majority of the day helping the State Department security professionals acclimate a new Foreign Service national to embassy operations – the national investigator, who served as a sort of liaison between the French and the U.S., and helped secure the area, was a quick learner, but a very quiet – almost unnervingly shy – man.

He got home late, but just in time for storybook, so while Shannon did some studying, he put Kelly to bed.

Laying there in her cramped toddler bed, with her snuggled into his side and looking happily up at the book as he slowly told the story, he felt a little off – not unhappy, no anger just – off. He wasn't sure he liked the foreign national they'd gone with for the job – he'd been pushing for a man who'd been former Mossad, but expatriated to France when his wife divorced him. He also – with summer rolling around, and Kelly's second birthday having passed, he was just feeling strange about it – Kelly was rounding on the same age Natalie had been when Jenny ran off with her.

Which meant, in an odd twist, he was starting to experience a certain level of parental wariness and self-doubt, as he'd never done this part before – and he'd no longer be the one who could easily tell Shannon he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Lune," Kelly cooed, putting her finger on the page. "Night-night, Lune."

"Moon," Gibbs said, nudging her playfully.

"Luuuuuuune."

"Mooooon," he growled back.

She buried her head in his shoulder, shaking it. She gave a little squeal.

"Speak French, Daddy," she ordered.

"Nope," he insisted gruffly – the Goodnight, Moon book was in French, but he knew it by heart; he'd read it to Natalie enough that to his surprise, he actually could pick up on the vaguely familiar basic French and remember what the story was all about.

Kelly sat up, her hair messy, sticking up in places. She puckered her lips and sighed, turning a page forcibly.

"Waldo," she said, peering. "Where Waldo?"

"No Waldo," Gibbs said. "Waldo books are too long. Mommy said one book. Then Kelly has to go to sleep."

"No," Kelly said conversationally, as if it were a discussion. "No, no."

"Yes, yes," he corrected.

She shook her head, but settled back down next to him, pointing at the book.

"Read," she ordered.

He went on, dragging it out a bit so she felt like she was getting away with something. She yawned, her hand tangling into the dog tags he'd forgotten to take off – hell, he was still half in his uniform; the bulky part taken off, the tan crew neck still on, untucked from his trousers.

Towards the end of the book, Bugsy trotted into the room and laid down with a canine sigh at the foot of the bed, giving one lazy, happy thump of her tail. Kelly beamed smugly.

"Bugsy," she told Gibbs, as if it were a secret. "I love Bugsy."

"I love Bugsy, too," Gibbs agreed, closing the book. "Night-night, Moon," he said seriously.

"Lune," Kelly trilled. She had three favorite French words – Lune, Bateau, and Chien; Moon, Boat, and Dog, respectively. Shannon was delighted – her dream of a bilingual child was moving forward; Gibbs was just stubbornly stuck in limbo – he understood a lot of French, so used to hearing was he, but he couldn't speak it to save his life.

Kelly took the book and held it.

"Keep?"

"You can sleep with it," Gibbs said, nodding. He leaned over and took a teddy bear, shaking it at her lightly. "Mopsy might be more comfortable," he suggested seriously – Shannon had named the bear; Gibbs still didn't know why its name was Mopsy, but Kelly couldn't pronounced it.

Kelly took the bear, too.

"Bugsy stay."

"Bugsy sleeps where she wants," Gibbs said.

He sat up slowly, wincing a little – it was hard to cram himself in that small bed, but Kelly always wanted to be read to there, and since that made it easier for her to fall straight to sleep without moving around on the way to bed and waking back up, Shannon and Gibbs put up with it. He gingerly got out of the bed, and crouched beside it.

Kelly rolled over, yawning at him; she smacked her lips and waved a little.

"Night-night?"

"Real bedtime, now, Kelly," he agreed. "Moon's in bed; Kelly's next."

She beamed sleepily, and nodded. He leaned over and pushed her tangled hair back, giving her a swift kiss on the forehead.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite," he said, quite seriously. "Love you, Dolphin," he told her quietly – it was a silly nickname; Shannon had told him that instead of calling Kelly princess, he should be calling her dauphine – and he'd thought she said dolphin, and when Shannon heard him actually call her that, she didn't let him hear the end of it for a month.

She wrinkled her nose, nodded and blew him a kiss.

"Love Daddy."

He grinned, waited a moment, and then got up to leave – Kelly was good about going to sleep on her own, not needing them to wait until her eyes closed – she was especially good when Bugsy stayed with her. Gibbs shared silent look with the dog, and then left Kelly's bedroom door cracked just slightly, so Bugsy could nose out if he wanted to.

He made his way soundlessly back downstairs, deciding he was too lazy to change – he'd just go to bed later, anyway, why bother getting into lazy clothes and then pajamas – and prowling towards the refrigerator, wondering if there was any ice in the ice trays for a glass of bourbon on the rocks.

Shannon came in from the back porch, reading glasses perched on top of her head. She placed them on the small table in the kitchen, and then came forward, resting her cheek on his arm a moment before opening a cupboard for a wine glass.

"Finish your thing?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, relieved. "I'm going to graduate in August."

She should have received her Master's in May, but something hadn't worked out with a final class she'd needed, and she'd been forced to postpone for that single one – it worked out, though; they did end up going to Barcelona for their anniversary, Kelly had done fine with the Vances, and Shannon had actually really needed the break from school – she was working now, too, three days a week as an English teacher at a community center.

Gibbs handed her a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, and gave her a smug look.

"'Course you are," he said proudly.

She smiled gratefully, and poured herself a glass of wine, leaving the cork off the bottle – she'd just planned her entire thesis argument; she could definitely allow herself more than one glass tonight.

""You were late today – how's the new guy?"

Gibbs shrugged.

"Dunno," he said. "Seems okay. The diplomatic security agent in charge, he's hostile about 'im – think he wanted the Israeli guy, too."

"But why would you hire an Israeli as the French foreign national investigator?"

"He's been a French citizen for a year. Mossad connections," Gibbs said frankly. "He was a decent guy, too, Vance put his name in – Eli David," Gibbs muttered. He shrugged again. "Politics," he muttered. He didn't know why David had been passed over, or why the sharp girl from the Sorbonne, the one with the doctorate in criminal justice – Jeanne, or something – had been turned away.

"But the one they went with seems competent?"

"Yeah," Gibbs said slowly. "He's a soviet defector."

"Ooh," Shannon whistled. "Intrigue – well, that's why a U.S. embassy would want him. Former KGB?"

Gibbs shook his head – not as far as he knew. He just knew the guy was quiet, calculating, picked up on his job easily – and he knew that the head security officer didn't like him, but the younger Marine guards did – probably had something to do with a gift of homemade vodka – but one of the hiring officials involved had specifically vouched for this guy.

"Does he speak any English?" Shannon asked.

"English, Russian, French," Gibbs listed.

"Wow, what's it like to keep getting shown up at work, Jethro?"

He rolled his eyes at her.

"I speak the only language that matters," he blustered.

"God, you're such a jingo."

"Oorah."

She grinned, biting her nail, and tilted her head towards the living room. She sat down on the couch, relaxed, and he sat down in his usual spot, leaning back and rubbing his neck. Holding her glass of wine delicately, and careful to avoid hitting his tumbler of whiskey, she shifted around and put her legs over his lap, snuggling up towards him.

"Kelly go to bed okay?"

"She was harassing me," Gibbs whined. "Tryin' to tell me the Moon has a different word – "

"Lune, Lune!" Shannon imitated. "She's so cute – don't you discourage her, Jethro, she's your entire world and you know it."

"Eh, you're in there, somewhere."

"I'm honored," Shannon said, eyes wide in mock surprise.

Gibbs grinned, and laid his hand over her thighs, drawing little circles on him with his thumb.

"I like it when she says bateau," Shannon said. "That little inflection she does, all prim and proper—like she's trying to tell us something."

"Yeah, she likes boats."

"She liked sailing, in Marseilles," Shannon remarked. She paused. "I bet we could find a place to keep a boat back in Alexandria," she mused. "A marina, or something? I want her to grow up liking outdoors-y things – we could take her fishing, my dad would never take me fishing – but boats are money pits – "

"Not if you build 'em right," Gibbs said, still stroking her leg. He shrugged. "I could built a damn sturdy boat."

"Oh really?"

"I damn near built a car, in Stillwater!" he protested.

"Yeah? I've never seen this alleged car – what happened to it?" she retorted.

Gibbs gave her a look.

"Had to quit spendin' money on parts when I got my girlfriend pregnant," he said dryly.

"Ahhh," Shannon murmured, laughing. She rested her head on the couch and smirked, taking a swallow of wine.

"I could built a boat," he said seriously. "Hell, I bet that basement in that Alexandria house is big enough – measure it out," he went on, wrinkling his brow. He nodded to himself. "Can't be much harder than that cradle I built Kelly."

"Sure, Jethro – sure, you build Kelly a boat; that'll be the day," Shannon snorted fondly.

"I will," he swore stubbornly, thinking of that house – Shannon's dream house, the one she'd only lived in and started decorating so briefly before they were sent off to Germany, then Paris – the one they'd get back to, when his time as a detachment commander was over, and Shannon decided it was time to find somewhere permanent for Kelly.

She was content where she was, though, for the moment – and it was nice knowing they had a forever home somewhere; even if Gibbs did twenty years in the Marines before they settled in, that would only be two-thousand-seven – Kelly would be thirteen or so – that seemed nice; primarily, when she thought about the future, Shannon was only concerned about making sure Kelly didn't have to move during high school; those years were so important, and they were the hardest years to start over during.

She missed home more than she used to, occasionally – home being the States – but Paris was nice; she wasn't going to complain about Paris.

"Who was on the phone, 'bout an hour ago?" Gibbs asked gruffly. He'd been giving Kelly a bath at the time, and usually calls to the house were for him, but Shannon hadn't come to get him, or tell him. "Joanne?" he asked.

"Ah, no, actually – your father," she said neutrally.

Gibbs' brow furrowed – that was slightly out of the ordinary, it not being a holiday – and Jackson usually waited for Shannon to call him, anyway. Gibbs' hand stopped moving, and Shannon sat forward slightly, pushing her hair back. It fell in a messy tangle down her back, and she watched Gibbs thoughtfully.

"What'd he want?" Gibbs finally ventured, unable to resist asking.

It occurred to him that Jackson was his only real link to Jenny – Jenny spoke to Jackson, Jackson spoke to Shannon – if something had happened with Natalie – but no; Shannon would tell him right away – wouldn't she…?

"Well, since you asked," Shannon said simply. "I – you know, it was a slightly surprising call, I got the feeling even he wasn't sure why he did it," she paused, looking at Gibbs carefully for a moment. "It seems – Chief, ah, Jasper Shepard is dead."

Gibbs, in the middle of taking a drink of bourbon, lowered his glass, taken aback – whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't that. His brows went up slightly, and he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing – was he startled because he cared, or because his father had called, or just – he stared at her, unsure how to react.

"Dead?" he repeated finally, brow furrowing. "He's dead?" Jasper Shepard just – he wasn't that old, and he'd always seemed healthy as a horse; it was hard to believe he'd just dropped dead.

Shannon nodded.

"He was killed in the line of duty," She said quietly. "Shot by some kid, according to your father – gang initiation, in one of the poorer counties," she clicked her tongue, her face falling. "Jackson said – it wasn't even the bullets that killed him; he took one to the chest, one to the knee –but he had a heart attack on the operating table."

To her surprise, Gibbs gave a short bark of laughter.

"He got shot twice and a heart attack had to come along to get 'im?" he asked, more in disbelief than actual mirth. "Sounds like the old man," he said – there was a hint of strain to his voice, a hint of memory.

He looked down into his glass, his hand sliding off Shannon's leg a little – he wondered why his father had decided to call and deliver that news. He wondered – he wondered a lot of things.

"Were – Jenny and her father close?" Shannon ventured timidly.

Gibbs sighed, his lips closed, still staring at his drink. He nodded cautiously.

"Before she got pregnant," he said gruffly. "After," he lifted the glass to his lips, shaking his head. "Ah, he never forgave her," Gibbs remembered – the stoic, proud Chief, retired Army Colonel, forever deeply ashamed of his tramp daughter – at least, as far as Gibbs knew. "Last I talk to him, he'd washed his hands of 'er," he added.

Of course, the last time Gibbs had spoken to Jasper Shepard, it had been nineteen eighty-seven, and he'd been telling the old man firmly that he was removing him from the legal child support documents, and that it was between him and Jen now.

Gibbs felt – strangely sad, strangle sympathetic; he wondered if the event had been hard on Jenny, if she was even still in contact with him.

"Dunno if they ever reconciled," he said dully.

"I think they did," Shannon piped up, holding her glass to her chest tensely. "I – he said, when I visited Stillwater, that he visited her in California, when she graduated college."

Gibbs looked at her critically.

"You saw 'im? You talked to 'im?" he demanded – Jesus, that had been two years ago, when he was in Baghdad and Kelly was a newborn – and she hadn't mentioned it. He didn't know how he felt about that, it seemed – out of place; wrong.

"In passing; he came by the general store," she answered.

Gibbs grunted. He thought about that – Jasper visiting Jenny for a graduation.

"Jen would've appreciated that," he said out loud.

Shannon gently bit down on the edge of her wine glass.

"We curse small towns, Jethro, but the world itself is a deceptively small place," she said thoughtfully.

There was a strange parallel in it all; how Jackson connected with Natalie via Jenny, and then Kelly via Shannon, and without any contact with his own son, vague messages and snippets of lives got relayed – Gibbs wondered if Jackson told Jenny things like he mentioned things to Shannon; he wondered if, despite his refusal to send pictures, Jenny knew about Shannon and Kelly.

Gibbs – he'd sent another card, this past November, and this past Christmas, for the important dates – Shannon had been dead serious when she said she was done with the cards. He'd still refrained from sending pictures, or a number, or adding Shannon and Kelly's names, and he had no indication that anything had changed but – at least he'd been persuaded, bullied, into taking that small step.

"Wonder if she went back," he said heavily. "For the funeral," he clarified.

He doubted it. He knew how much Jenny despised it there. He wasn't sure even her father's death could drag her back.

Shannon shrugged, her eyes soft.

"Jackson didn't mention her," she said sincerely – he really hadn't, which Shannon thought was odd, but she hadn't pressed.

To her surprise, Gibbs looked at her sideways, hesitated, and then cleared his throat.

"He – say anything about – Natalie?" he asked, clearly trying not to show too much interest, or convey in any way that he'd want to know something.

Shannon chewed on the inside of her lip, and shook her head slowly, apologetically. Gibbs shrugged it off – Jackson played it close to the vest; he respected Jenny's wishes all most too much, Gibbs figured – but then, Gibbs had been uninvolved for so long now –

Maybe that's why he'd been feeling off; maybe something in his gut had told him that the old days had started to die – the things tying him to his tumultuous teenage years in Stillwater were fading – and that was a very daunting thought, the idea that it was all being – erased, let go of.

Shannon slipped her hand into his, her fingers hugging his, squeezing comfortingly.

"You know that picture? The one of Natalie in the little lab coat, the one you keep in the back of your wallet?" she asked bravely.

He nodded, his thumb running along the edge of his tumbler. He looked over at her guardedly. She leaned forward, her eyes crinkling affectionately.

"You should pin it up in your office," she suggested firmly. "Next to that – picture of Kelly crying in front of the Parthenon."

He smiled a little – it was a funny picture, the one of Kelly in Greece – she'd been so unhappy all day, for some reason, and amidst a bunch of smiling faces – including her delighted mother, she'd been sobbing in front of such an awesome monument of world history. He thought about the picture, and shrugged a little. Shannon squeezed his hand again, and didn't say anything else about it – instead, she drained her wine glass, and held it against her chest, scooting forward.

"So," she drawled in a hushed, wry tone, wiggling her brows. She poked his thigh with her free hand. "Tell me more about this Soviet defector they had you babysitting – what's his name?"

Gibbs leaned back, slouching against the couch – he started rubbing his thumb on her thigh again, relieved the Natalie conversation was over, filing her suggestion away for later consideration – he cleared his throat and looked at her, cocking one eyebrow.

"Anatoly Zhukov," he said, imitating a thick, stereotypical Russian accent – it was erroneous, though; the man spoke perfect French – his mother had been French.

Shannon parted her lips and laughed, amused. She tossed her hair back, and asked something else, and Gibbs shrugged, not too up to speed on the answers – the things that mattered to him weren't so much the intricate political details of work, but the people he came home to, right here – Shannon, Kelly, and Bug – Bugsy.

---

"But I just don't know now
When all I want to do is try."
The Killers; Somebody Told Me

---

so - i think the song title / choice really illustrates everyone's pathetic lack of communication, and i also think that canonically (and this how i choose to represent them in each of my stories) Gibbs and Jenny are people who handle their issues very poorly: Jenny by defiantly acting out and refusing to introspect, and Gibbs by repressing and internalizing (exhibited on the show, hopefully exhibited here) - see you next week.

-alexandra