Stupid cloth napkins...

They weren't even real linen, like the ones he always used when he was visiting his grandfather, but some kind of slick imitation that just wouldn't stay on his lap, no matter how he positioned it or stuffed it or tucked it. It wasn't even white like he was use to but some indescribable shade of tan, like sand or seashell or some other dumbass name that didn't really mean anything but beige.

And so was the tablecloth. Just an awful shade of not-white over another equally ugly one of dark green that poked out at the corners so both colors could be seen. How stupid was that? Why would a table need two tablecloths? If the people who ate here were such slobs that they required two coverings, why didn't they just make them eat on the bare, wood surface? Sure would save a lot in having them cleaned, unless they just turned them over when they got dirty or put the green one on top and the dirty not-white one on the bottom. Yeah, that's what they probably did.

He giggled quietly at the thought and decided, the next time he lost his stupid napkin to gravity, he was going to try and see if there was a dirty side under there, somehow. Not that he was going to do it anytime too soon...not with the way Gunny was looking at him. Nope, not a good look at all. Kind of like he was constipated or something, like he was trying to hold in a big fart and didn't want to let it out. Better not look at him anymore or he was just going to come right out and ask if the man needed to go to the restroom.

He giggled again, louder, at the thought.

"Something funny, Tony?" A soft feminine voice asked from across the table.

He looked up quickly, eyes taking in the full, red lips and the deeply plunging neckline that showed the tops of some pretty awesome boobs, before remembering that he should look a little higher. He squirmed a bit on the thickly cushioned chair and glanced toward the man before replying to the inquiring woman.

"Ah..." was all he could manage at the moment.

"Yes, Tony," the man chimed in, voice deceptively calm, "what's so funny? We'd sure like to hear what you've got to say."

He looked at the man's cool, blue eyes and knew constipation wasn't his problem, could see it telegraphed through the firmly pursed lips and the tightly clenched fist resting on the table between them. He swallowed thickly and squirmed again, trying to put on an innocent face. It probably had something to do with the fact that the man was being continually distracted from his focus on the woman sitting just to his left, diverted from his quiet conversation and verbal foreplay, turned away from giving the relaxed impression he was hoping to communicate, all because of the imp sitting to his right.

"Ah..." the imp offered again, lamely, "nothing really."

"That's what I thought," the man hissed and promptly refocused on the woman, leaning closer, those eyes dropping to the lush cleavage pushing against the tight green of her silk blouse, totally dismissing the mildly infuriating brat and concentrating on keeping his libido on an even keel. "Now, Carolyn, what was that you were saying?"

He watched the adults through slitted eyes, taking in the little, brief touches and the coy smiles they continued to exchange, and decided he really, really, *really* didn't like this restaurant or the food they served or, especially, Carolyn. Nope, didn't like her one little bit at all. She was too pretty and too graceful and too perfect and it made his stomach hurt, just a little, to watch their playful interaction. His eyes darted between the man and the woman and, when she suddenly extended a well-manicured hand and brushed her painted fingernails over Gunny's cheek, all he wanted to do was reach out and tell her to keep her hands off of *his* Gunny.

Instead, he picked up his fork and deftly began twirling the tines into his plate of pasta, watching the long strands wrap around and through the metal prongs, growing steadily in mass, quickly taking on the shape of a golf ball. He decided he wouldn't look at them again, would just ignore what they were doing, and keep eating his dinner...his stupid dinner in this stupid restaurant with the stupid cloth napkins that weren't like his grandfather's. He placed one elbow on the table and rested the side of his forehead on his fist, making sure his face was hidden from view. Huffing over his plate, he barely noticed when the golf ball of pasta roughly became the size of a tennis ball. He just kept turning the fork...

There was some kind of music playing in the background, something he thought he recognized from sometime when he'd been visiting at his grandfather's home, and he turned slightly in the direction of the sound, searching for the source. He didn't see any real musicians anywhere, so it wasn't live music. Huh, that was strange. His eyes tracked to the corner, past the strategically placed tables, and saw a large, potted plant, complete with small, white, twinkling Christmas lights. It was there, he was sure but...He choked out a laugh before he could contain it and quickly covered his mouth with his stupid cloth napkin. The music was coming from the tree. From the stupid tree!

He turned back and suddenly realized all conversation at the table had stopped. Oh, boy...

"Are you going to eat that?" Gunny's voice was now like ice and there was no way to ignore it.

He quickly glanced down to his plate and saw the massive blob of sauce-covered pasta, slightly astounded by the sheer size of the wad, and wisely stifled another inappropriate snicker. It was the biggest thing he'd seen in a long time. There was no way he'd ever be able to get that thing in his mouth, certainly not in one bite, but actually thought for one, flickering moment that he sure would like to give it a try. Before he could even consider raising the heavy fork to his lips, a hand was immediately on his wrist, clenching tightly and keeping the utensil from rising. He looked quickly back to the man.

"Don't. You. Dare!" The words were clipped and full of barely concealed anger. He was mad. *Really* mad.

"I wasn't going..."

"Tony," the grip tightened fractionally on the slim wrist, keeping the boy from denying the obvious.

"Okay," he sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat, "I was thinking about it."

There was a sudden tug on his captured wrist and the man was rising, pulling the boy with him. "Excuse us a moment, Carolyn. Tony and I need to have a little talk."

"Jethro," the smooth voice sounded like it was going to protest but, as the boy looked hopefully in her direction, he could plainly see the glee in her eyes. She wasn't going to offer any support. She wanted him punished!

Gunny stopped as both he and the boy were finally on their feet, standing closely side by side, grip still tight around the wrist, and looked toward their dinner companion. "No, Carolyn. This needs to be done. Now. We'll be back shortly."

"All right, Jethro. I'll still be here."

Tony gave her one last look as he was towed away from the table, barely able to keep up with Gunny's longer stride, and watched her raise her fingers close to her face and wiggle them in a 'goodbye' gesture, lips twisting into a satisfied smirk. A spike of anger bubbled up and, before he could control it, the boy flashed an impertinent gesture of his own, middle finger pointing to the ceiling and mouth forming a silent 'fuck you' as he was pulled away. The only satisfaction he got was her surprised expression. He knew there would be no satisfaction from Gunny.

Embarrassingly, several patrons watched their departure and saw the youth's rude signal, their shocked looks turning quickly to gratification when they detected the very determined and very angry look on the man's face. Tony dropped his head in shame and offered no resistance as they traversed through the tables, past the hostess, and out into the cool, evening air, stopping only when they were about ten feet away from the restaurant's front entrance.

Finally, Gunny released the wrist and took several calming steps away from the boy, keeping his back turned, and looking up into the clear evening sky. He put both hands on his hips, took a deep steadying breath, and turned back, eyes locking with the disobedient boy.

"What, in God's name, do you think you're doing?" He asked in exasperation, keeping his distance. It was easy to see the anger radiating off him in waves and, quite frankly, it was better for both of them if he didn't get any closer right now. "I want to know what you think you're proving by acting like this? Do you think it's going to drive Carolyn away? That I'll just give up on this date, take her home, and spend the rest of the night with you at the apartment? Do you? Do you think, for one moment, that I won't just turn you right over my knee and spank that insolent attitude right out of you? Do you?"

Tony took a step back at the threat. His Gunny had never spanked him before.

"I'm...I'm too old for a spanking."

The low growl was the only warning he got before Gunny was in his space and turning him roughly with one strong hand on his upper arm. The three swift, sharp blows that landed soundly on his ass happened so quickly that, at first, he wasn't even sure they'd happened.

Then, the burn began.

Tony blinked rapidly at the stinging sensation, shocked and speechless at the hurtful discipline, eyes wide with the sudden prickling of tears, and throat convulsing as the urge to cry began. He swallowed raggedly and raised his face to Gunny, trembling lips instinctively opening to ask for forgiveness.

"Do you need more?" Gunny hissd, shaking the boy by the arm, face still twisted with displeasure. "I've got plenty more where that came from and have no qualms of doling it out right here and now."

"No..no, sir," the contrite boy stutteed, eyes never straying from the cold, angry gaze.

Jethro released the arm and brought his hand up to rest on one slim shoulder. "This is what's going to happen: we're going to walk back in there, sit down at the table, and you're going to apologize..."

"But Gunny..."

The hand squeezed and the boy shut his mouth. "You are going to apologize to Carolyn. Then, you are going to eat the rest of your dinner and sit quietly and maturely until we're ready to leave. We will take you back to the apartment where you will immediately get ready for bed..."

There was a quick look of disbelief on the boy's face. He hadn't gone to bed this early since...since...he couldn't even remember when he'd ever gone to bed this early in his whole life.

"...and you will go to sleep. No tv, no music, no anything. If you persist in acting like a spoiled two-year old, that's exactly how you'll be treated. Understand?"

The young mouth opened and closed silently, wanting to speak words of denial, but better judgement kept any utterance from escaping. He searched Gunny's face, saw the absolute, immovable resolve, and lost all hope. He dropped his head in defeat.

"Yes, sir."

"Come on."

The man turned and started back to the door of the restaurant, the boy trailing obediently in his wake. He didn't have to look to know Tony would be right on his heels nor did he doubt the boy would do everything he'd been told but, damn it, his stomach ached because of the reason for all of this disruption. Jealousy. Pure and simple. The revelation had been a surprise and a shock but he never believed Tony would resort to such low-down, under-handed tactics in an effort to sabotage this dinner date.

Back at the table, and with Carolyn looking on with an extremely avid expression, Jethro and Tony took their seats. There was a brief pause before the boy spoke.

"I'm very sorry for the way I acted."

The apology was accepted with a silent nod of the head and a not-so-hidden smug look and Tony quickly lowered his eyes before he was tempted to start the battle all over again. He shifted in his seat, frowning as the sore spot reminded him of Gunny's ire, and promptly began to push at his now-cold pasta, taking a moment to unwind the strands from the fork before eating. He didn't look back up for the rest of the meal and tried not to listen to the adults as they prattled on about what they would be doing for the remainder of the night but certain, carefully worded phrases caught his attention. Especially, Carolyn's last one.

"My place is much more intimate, Jethro. We don't have to go dancing."

Tony clamped down on the bile that rose swiftly into his throat and forced it back down. Could the woman be any more obvious? Why didn't she just come out and ask Gunny to fuck her? That's what she wanted, that's what Gunny wanted, that's what the whole fucking world wanted, wasn't it? He put his fork down, wiped his mouth carefully with the hated napkin, and sat perfectly still, eyes focusing on the pasta still on his plate. There was no more room for any more food in his convulsing stomach and he wasn't even sure he'd be able to keep what he'd eaten down much longer. He didn't want to feel this way, he really didn't, but he just couldn't help it. He sighed quietly and waited.

"You finished, Tony?" Gunny was suddenly asking.

Tony raised his face and looked at the man. "Yes, sir."

Jethro nodded and glanced back to Carolyn. "I'll be right back. If the waiter comes, tell him we're ready for the check."

Carolyn nodded and watched until Jethro disappeared in the direction of the restrooms before leaning both arms on the table and peering at the top of the boy's bent head, smirking at the whipped attitude. Jethro had done wonders in the short time he'd spoken to the boy and, now, she couldn't help but gloat.

"So," she began quietly, "you and Jethro get everything straightened out?"

There was a slight hesitation but the head remained downcast. "Yes, ma'am."

"Didn't take very long."

"No, ma'am." The voice was whisper-soft.

"He must know exactly what to say to bratty little boys like you."

The slim shoulders tensed but the head stayed down. "Yes, ma'am."

Carolyn smirked at the too-polite words, knowing the boy was probably ready to explode. If she just pushed a little more...

"He told me a little about you, you know..."

The boy's head snapped up, eyes widening and focusing on the woman. His lips parted but he didn't voice the question so evident in his green eyes.

"Said you've got no mother and no father. So, you're an orphan, is that it? Hmmmm?"

"I...I..." Tony stumbled over words that wouldn't form in his dry mouth, trying to deny but couldn't. Gunny had told *her* about him, had said things that had given a part of him away. Why would he do that? What had he told her?

"He said you've been through some rough times, mistreated by people."

Mistreated? Is that what had happened to him? Tony could only stare at the woman, watching her perfect red lips smile at him without any humor, her eyes cold and calculating. He swallowed and started to look away.

"You were very rude to me earlier, Tony," her words brought his eyes back to her face. "Maybe you were mistreated because you were rude to others, too. It's not good to be rude. But, let me tell you something, I don't care what you do or say to me because in a few days, your rude little ass will be back in New York and I'll still be here with Jethro."

Tony jerked at her words, face paling, and let his head fall forward again. He couldn't look at her anymore, didn't want to hear her anymore. Where was Gunny? What was taking him so long? If he didn't get away from this table and this woman soon, he was going to...

"We ready?" Gunny's voice broke through the dim in Tony's mind and the boy anxiously looked up.

"Waiter didn't come yet," Carolyn put in quickly, hand reaching to touch his arm, wanting Jethro to focus on her instead of the youth. She saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. "Oh, here he is now."

The meal was paid for and the trio left the establishment, Jethro and Carolyn walking shoulder to shoulder with Tony close behind. The boy didn't say anything else for the remainder of their time together, just huddled in the back seat of the car and watched the rest of the world whiz by. He didn't see Jethro repeatedly glancing in the rearview mirror or the frown that formed on the man's worried face. He just felt numb and alone. So alone.

As they pulled up to the curb outside Jethro's apartment complex, Carolyn turned to look at Tony as the car came to a stop. "It was very good meeting you, Tony. I hope you have a good trip home."

Tony looked at the woman, then at Jethro, and sighed, eyes dropping to the floorboard. He swallowed and whispered. "Thank you."

Jethro walked him to the door and unlocked it, placing his hands on the young shoulders as they stood just inside the open entry. Something was not right.

"Tony, you okay?" He asked quietly.

The eyes were still downcast and Jethro watched the dark head nod. "Yes, sir."

"Go right to bed, like I told you."

"Yes, sir."

"And don't go snooping back around Jessie's."

Tony's head whipped up and the look of utter devastation on the young face rocked Jethro back on his heels. "I...I...Gunny, I...wouldn't do that...how can...how can you even think I would do that?"

Jethro reached out and pulled the boy close, wrapping his strong arms around the trembling body. Tony was not hugging him back. "I'm sorry, Tony. God, I don't know what made me say that to you. Of course, I don't think you'd do that. I'm sorry, okay?"

Tony stood in the rough embrace like a piece of wood, feeling like he was trapped in some nightmare and, sometime soon, he'd wake up to tell his Gunny all about it. But it wasn't a dream and he wasn't going to wake up and it was all too real. And the worse part was that Gunny was now part of the nightmare. He pulled out of the embrace and took a step back, eyes rising only to the middle of the man's chest.

"Okay, Gunny," he whispered, taking another step back. "I'll...I'll see you in the morning."

Jethro was torn. He needed to say more to the boy, needed to make him understand he hadn't meant to hurt him, needed to reconnect before he left him alone to go back to Carolyn. Carolyn. Jethro craned his neck and peered out into the darkness, seeing the woman's anxious face framed by the windshield of the car. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Lock the door after I leave."

Tony nodded soundlessly.

"Dead bolt, too."

Another nod.

"I...I love you, Tony. You know that, don't you?"

The green eyes rose slowly and stared for several long moments before they traveled to rest on the woman in the car. His eyes fell almost immediately back to the ground and Jethro turned, wondering what the youth had seen on Carolyn's face.

"Tony? Did you hear me?"

The only response was the silent nod of the lowered head and Jethro sighed. It was not the reaction he'd been hoping for but, for now, it was just going to have to do. He took a step closer to the open door, hand resting on the cold knob, and looked carefully back at Tony.

"Okay. Sleep good and I'll see you in the morning."

"Night, Gunny," Tony mumbled and waited until the man vacated the entrance.

As the door closed, Jethro heard the sound of the lock and the deadbolt being set, and nodded in satisfaction. He briefly rested a hand against the panel and, then, turned away, hurrying back to the car and the woman who waited within. He'd been thinking about this dinner date all day, anticipating the 'dessert' that was going to follow, and had to put all thoughts of Tony to rest for the night. He would have another talk with the boy in the morning and get this whole thing straightened out but, right now, there were other pressing matters.

An hour later and after several glasses of good, rich wine, Jethro Gibbs was finally getting laid. And how. If there was anything Carolyn Anderson was good at it was sex and she was currently employing every trick and skill she'd learned during her years of experimentation to prove just how knowledgeable she really was on the subject. Sitting astride the ex-Marine, his cock buried just about as far as he could go, the woman worked her internal muscles in an interesting rhythm that was slowly causing the top of his head to fizz, gradually building up into a very nice explosion.

"Feel good?" She asked, leaning down to nip playfully at his lower lip.

"Oh, yeah," he agreed, fighting the urge to thrust, laying back and letting her do exactly what she wanted, feeling the clenching around the entire length of his dick.

His hands were under the pillow and behind his head, just as she'd instructed and, at this point, Carolyn was going to get whatever she wanted. He'd already worked her to orgasm with his mouth and knew she'd come again like this, once she'd reached the zone of her special, little lap dance. And, judging by the rocking movement now starting, she was getting closer...much closer.

"Oh, Jethro...God, I love your cock," she rocked harder, head angling slightly and back arching so her breasts were pushing forward.

Jethro pulled one hand out from under the pillow and traced up a trim thigh, fingers itching to get back to that luscious flesh and the hard, rosy nipples. They were bigger than any mouthful or handful but nothing, in his opinion, was a waste. They were just the right size for fucking and the thought of sandwiching his cock between those plump mounds and shooting his come all over her face almost made him think about just letting go. Right now.

"Carolyn, slow down a minute," he hissed, fighting down the image his fertile mind was painting, feeling his balls pulling up taut.

"Noooo...can't do that," she moaned, hips picking up speed, rising and falling, impaling herself on his hot length. "So good...so good."

Jethro's roaming hand detoured from it's original course to her breasts and wound it's way between her legs, pushing his fingers against the point of their union, feeling the slick, hot glide of their flesh. Carolyn was so wet and was moving so fast that he realized, if he didn't get to her clit quick, he was going to come without her. His deft fingers found her core and she bucked, groaning her pleasure.

"Oh, yeah...right there...come on, Jethro...work it."

"Fuck," he gritted, lifting his head to look between them, watching himself appear and disappear within her hot cunt. She was on fire and going to incinerate him right along with her. He moved his fingers over her wet folds faster, watching her face, hearing her gasps, catching the scent of their bodies in the throes of passion. It was good. So fucking good.

Her moans were pitching higher, lithe body beginning to lean forward, and Jethro took up the subtle hint, digging his heels into the mattress and lifting her slightly up. Now, he could move. He thrust up into her body, long, deep, hard thrusts that rocked her up and down, sliding his cock in and out.

"Yeah...oh, yeah..." she panted.

"Carolyn..." he warned, feeling it begin, pumping harder, faster.

"Yes, Jethro...yes..."

He flopped his head back against the pillow and fought for breath, hips surging, cock jabbing. It felt like the tip of his dick was burning against her insides and, even through the thin protection of the condom, the intense feeling was going to be his undoing. He couldn't stop now, even if he wanted. Too long. It had been way too long and, now, it was almost here.

"Carolyn..." he hissed again. "I'm going to come."

The woman began to keen and writhe, body thrashing. He held her hips firmly and all but lifted her up and down, sinking his cock up into her body and fucking her for all his worth. It was good. So wet, so hot, so tight.

Suddenly, he was there, spurting into the tip of the condom, his cock pulsing and pushing as it tried to get its contents into the woman's cunt, seeking completion. Carolyn continued to ride through his orgasm and he shoved a hand back between them, roughly rubbing her swollen clit until she cried out and spasmed around his sensitive dick, her orgasm sending new jolts of pleasure through his body like a live electrical wire. Too much...it was almost too much. He groaned at the sensation, wanting it to go on but needing it to stop. And, still, he could feel her muscles contracting, slowing, settling, stopping.

They remained locked together and in position until he softened and eased out, the condom's slight pinch reminding Jethro to take care of business. Carolyn rolled to one side and let the man remove the sleeve of latex, trailing one hand over his chest, tweeking a small, flat nipple just to hear him hiss again.

"Minx," he teased as he rolled back toward her, draping one strong arm across her flat stomach, nuzzling into the sweetly scented neck. He felt her arms encircle his back and sighed at the gentle massage. "That feels great."

"Tense?"

"Not any more," he smiled and pressed a kiss to her throat. "Thanks to you."

Carolyn snuggled closer. "Stay tonight."

"You know I can't. Tony..."

"Tony is old enough to stay by himself for one night," she interrupted quickly. "Besides, I'm not quite finished with you."

Jethro eased up until he was propped on one elbow, looking down into the sated face. "Yeah? What kind of things you still need to do?"

"You'd be surprised," she smirked, arching one perfectly plucked eyebrow. "I still haven't had the chance to suck that big cock like I want to. You know how much I love doing that to you."

"Not as much as I love having you do it."

"Debatable."

He leaned forward, closing the gap, and kissed her lazily, involving lips and tongues and teeth. She tasted so good and the temptation was so great.

"I can't," he insisted. "Really."

"You can. Really."

"Carolyn..."

"Jethro," she mimicked, pushing him back and away until she, now, was bent over him. "You've got to quit worrying so much. That boy can take care of himself for one little night. It just might do him some good. Teach him a lesson."

"Teach him a lesson? What's that suppose to mean?"

"He was very rude tonight. I got the distinct feeling he didn't like sharing you with me."

Jethro grunted at her astute observation. Tony *had* been extremely rude and had almost made Jethro wish he hadn't been with them, that he'd allowed the boy to stay home by himself like he'd originally asked. Almost. On the other hand, it was good for Tony to see two adults interacting, conversing, flirting. The boy needed to see he was way too young to be infatuated with Jethro, that the man was only interested in a mature relationship. And, if anything was proved tonight, it was just how immature Tony still was. Still...he was only twelve years old.

"I'm sorry, Carolyn. He's my responsibility until he goes home and I just don't feel comfortable leaving him in the apartment alone for the complete night. I hope you understand."

The woman sighed and stroked the smooth face, tracing eyebrows and nose and lips. She rolled her hips against his body and smiled.

"Yes, I guess I do but you don't have to leave right now, do you? I mean, what's a few more minutes?"

Jethro smiled and raised his lips to hers. "Well, maybe just a few more minutes."

When Jethro finally unlocked his front door and stumbled into the entryway, it was well after two o'clock in the morning. The apartment was dark and quiet and the man tiptoed as silently as he could down the hall and peeked into the guest bedroom, detecting the lump under the blanket that was roughly Tony's shape. He paused, heard the soft, even breathing and continued to his own room, peeling off clothes as he made it to the bed. All in all, it had been a pretty good night and, except for Tony's behavior, everything had been fairly close to perfect. Good food, good company, good sex. What more could a person ask for?

Dropping bonelessly onto the mattress, Jethro wriggled under the sheet and blanket, stretching out completely, and finding an almost-perfect position within moments. He could smell Carolyn all over his skin and smiled into the darkness, liking the idea of sharing the scent with his bed. He rubbed his body over the sheets...maybe he'd still be able to smell her in the morning...er, later.

He sighed again and began to drift.

"Uh...uh...uh..."

Jethro's eyes popped open. No. It couldn't be.

"Uh...uh...uh..."

No. No. Nonononono!

"Uh...uh...uh..."

That little shit. That conniving, under-handed little shit!

Jethro gritted his teeth and pulled the pillow out from under his head, bringing it over to cover his face. This could not be happening now, not after they'd specifically talked about being discrete.

"Oh...ohh...uhnnn..."

Jethro pulled the pillow away from his face and yelled in the direction of the guest room, anger and a bit of desperation tinging his voice. "Tony! Shut the fuck up now!"

Silence.

Good.

Jethro rearranged the pillow and settled down, certain that would be the end of Tony's little show for the night. He actually hoped the boy had been embarrassed but couldn't quite deny it had probably just been for Jethro's benefit anyway. A little creative revenge for what had happened earlier at the restaurant, no doubt. Well, it just wasn't going to work. Not tonight. Not any night. The boy needed to learn and, if it meant through a firm hand, another spanking could be arranged very easily. Jethro sighed and winced at the thought. He really didn't want to do that again. Ever. There had to be other ways to make Tony understand.

"Oh...ohh...ohhh..."

Jethro turned away from the connecting wall and buried his head again. He was too tired for this crap. Let the boy masturbate. Let him just get it over with and then they'd both get some sleep.

"Uh...oh, Gunny...ughhh..."

The hairs rose on Jethro's neck and he sat up in the bed, pulling his legs up close and squeezing his eyes tightly together. He gritted his teeth as the sounds continued, determined not to yell again, to remain quiet, and to ride it out. This was not going to happen again, if he could help it. He would make sure the boy understood how upsetting and invasive this was and find something to convince the youth that there was never going to be anything more to their relationship. Ever.

Six months later, in front of a church full of friends and family, and in the sight of God, Jethro Gibbs and Carolyn Anderson were married. They pledged their love to each other and happily celebrated their union, drinking and toasting to their life together, giddy with the raw emotions of the day. It was obvious to see how in love they were and everyone shared in their happiness.

Almost everyone.

Choking back the bitter taste of heartache, Tony DiNozzo stood behind the long curtains draping a darkened corner of the rented hall and silently cried for his Gunny, watching the happy couple weave and move from well-wisher to well-wisher. And through his tears he realized he would never, ever love anyone else again.


FIN
Next: Through the Years: Fourteen