She cringes at the thought of using a dead man's sperm to create a child. She locks eyes with Agent Gibbs. She contemplates whether she should tell the truth, or choose to tell a bold faced lie. He taps his foot, waiting for a response.
"Honestly, it doesn't matter to me whose sperm you used. I am happy for you."
"I am not supposed to be able to get pregnant," she reminds him
"I guess miracles do happen," he comments.
"You should know," she nods.
He furrows his brow, "What do you mean?"
"You were there."
"What are you talking about?"
"The date of conception was sometime in October."
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"
She shakes her head, "Never mind. It probably doesn't mean anything to you."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Obviously I've made a huge mistake," she answers.
"I want to know why you're telling me."
"To be honest I should have told you quite a while ago."
"I would have appreciate a heads up before what happened tonight, that's for sure."
She shakes her head, "That's not what I mean."
"What do you mean?"
She purses her lips, "I don't know how to tell you this."
"Tell me what?"
"I haven't had much of a social life over the past five months. Honestly I haven't had much of a social life since Izzy was born, which is fine. I guess what I'm saying is that I haven't had time to date anyone since Harm died. Between work, and home I have been stretched very thin."
"Something I can do to help?"
"Yes."
"What is it?"
"I don't know yet."
"What do you mean, you don't know yet?"
"I'll let you know when your baby is born."
He sputters, "What?"
She breaks eye contact, "I'm pregnant."
"I got that part," he nods.
She takes a deep breath, "You're the father."
"It's my baby?" He responds.
"Yes," she confirms.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, but I will be more than happy to provide you with DNA proof once the baby is born."
He takes a seat on the bench to the left of her cot. He tugs at the collar of his jacket.
"You got pregnant in October? With my baby?"
"Yes."
"And you're just now telling me?"
"Yes."
"That was months ago."
"Yes."
"You're already in your second trimester."
"I am," she admits.
"Why wouldn't you tell me?"
"I don't know you that well. I didn't know how you would react."
"Wow!"
"You don't have to have any involvement. I don't expect you to."
He shoots her a questioning look. "Really?"
"I am sorry that this happened, and that I didn't tell you sooner. I just didn't know how to broach the subject."
He shakes his head, and his face turns red. She tries to read his facial expression to get a better idea of what he's thinking
"Don't ever be sorry that it happened."
"I know that this was completely unexpected, for both of this. How do you want to proceed?"
"With honesty," he speaks candidly.
"You should go home. I need to go get checked out in the ER."
"Right," he nods, "I should go with you."
"I would prefer that you didn't. Harriet is planning on meeting me there."
"She'll take you home?"
"Yes. I'll call you tomorrow, if you want."
"That's fine," he agrees.
He exits the vehicle, and the EMT's return to the ambulance. He ducks under the crime scene tape. He finds DiNozzo at the epicenter of the crime scene.
"Boss, we…"
Gibbs cuts him off, "DiNozzo, you're in charge."
"I don't understand?"
"Your case, your lead."
"But it's not my case."
"It is now," Gibbs insists.
"What's happening? Did I miss something?"
"I did," he responds.
"I find that difficult to believe. Gibbs, what's going on?"
"Don't worry about it," he turns to leave.
"Where are you going?"
"I've got something that I need to take care of."
"That is more important than this?"
"You get to be the hero today."
"I don't want to be. Boss…"
He walks away before DiNozzo can argue anymore. He climbs into the driver's seat of the charger, and leaves the parking lot. He drives home, and slams the car door as he exits the vehicle. He makes a beeline for the basement. He ditches his shirt, and jacket. He stands in the basement in slacks, and a t-shirt. He sands the boat in a rhythmic, predictable pattern. After several moments he tosses the sandpaper onto the ground. He takes a seat on the stool near his work bench.
He tries to process what he's just been told. He isn't easily rattled, but in this moment he feels a cloud of uncertainty. He feels a swirl of emotions that he isn't sure how to deal with. The thought of having another child hasn't crossed his mind in eons. The idea of having a child this late in life completely blows his mind. His mind wanders to his daughter. He thinks of how old she would be now. He shakes his head, she would be old enough to make him a grandpa. He could be a grandfather, and instead, today he finds out he's going to be a father, again. He pulls the flip phone out of his pocket and dials a familiar number. It rings twice, and a voice on the other end answers.
"Yeah, Gibbs?"
"Tobias…" he trails off as a lump forms in his throat.
"You okay?"
"Nope," he hangs up.