Troubles

Gibbs walked into his house, closed the front door behind him, and knew instantly that his long day was about to get even longer.

“Willow?” he called out, moving through the dark house. The only source of light was coming up from the basement below. Gibbs called her name again once he reached the stairs to the basement, hearing only light shuffling from below.

“Down here.” she called up, and Gibbs could tell from her voice that something was wrong. He'd known that the instant he'd come through the door – Willow always left at least one light on if he came home after she'd gone to sleep – but her voice just confirmed it. It was strange that he was learning to read his niece's moods and tones more effectively than he'd ever managed with any of his ex-wives. He couldn't blame it on time spent together or a conscious effort to learn her mannerisms, because this ability had seemed to sneak up on him. One day he was as confused as ever, and the next he knew that a certain lilt in her voice meant she was amused, no matter the expression on her face, and that when she played with the silver bracelet on her left wrist, she was anxious but not overly excited.

As he descended the wooden steps, Gibbs held back a sigh at the sight laid out before him. Somewhere along the line, while he'd been learning her personality quirks, she'd apparently been picking up some of his, because here she was working on his boat. Well, not really working, as there was an absent-mindedness to her movements as she sanded the slats that had started to make up the underside of the unfinished boat.

“Something bothering you?” he asked, again marvelling at his actions. Except for Shannon, no other woman in his life had ever made him want to talk before – which probably explained the three ex-wives.

“I'm just being ... stupid.” she said, keeping her back to him.

“In what way?”

“Just...stuff.” she replied, motioning with an elbow in the general direction of her cell phone, which sat precariously near a hammer.

Gibbs made a small sound of agreement as he made his way around the other side of the boat. Nearing the cell phone, he was glad to see it was still in working order – at least she hadn't picked up that habit of his. He also noticed that she had apparently missed a few calls.

“Twenty seven missed calls?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, looking to her for an explanation. He knew it hadn't been him or anyone else at NCIS – she had a special work-related phone for that – so that only left a few options open.

“Your parents or your friends?” he asked her, resting his hip against the wooden table. A harsh laugh escaped from her throat.

“My parents haven't even realized I'm on the other side of the country yet.” she said, surprising him. Her parents had paid for her flight out here, after all. “I think they forgot I told them I was leaving for the summer, because they're still putting money in to my account for groceries and bills and things.”

That part, however, didn't really surprise him. From what he remembered about Sheila, the only time she'd noticed she had a kid, was when someone else showed an interest in her. The scene at his wife and daughter's wake had nailed that bit home. However, Gibbs had a sneaking suspicion that if Willow had mentioned exactly who she was going to be spending the summer with, the rage Sheila Rosenberg would have let loose would have put his second ex-wife to shame.

“So, your friends.” Gibbs concluded, watching her closely for the slightest reaction.

“They called me yesterday, needed me to do something for them – left a bunch of messages.” she said, and Gibbs remained silent. He had his own thoughts on the matter, but would keep them to himself. “Dawn was the only one who asked how I was doing, and she sounded so bored and lonely in London, that I emailed her last night. Told her how I was, what I was up to. Where I was.”

“And now everyone's calling.” he surmised.

“It seems Dawn told Buffy, who then sent out the bat signal to Xander and Anya. Everyone's been calling all day.” she let out another half laugh. “Even Giles, who hates technology more than you do.”

Gibbs refrained from answering to that, not wanting to get off the subject at hand.

“What are they saying?” he asked.

“Why did I leave Sunnydale? Why am I in DC? Who are these 'relatives' I'm staying with? What's this summer job I have? Why didn't I tell them?”

“Why didn't you tell them?” he asked her after a minute. He desperately wanted to tell her that everything was going to be all right, but she didn't need empty platitudes at the moment. Besides, he was curious as to why she hadn't said anything to her friends about coming here for the summer. He understood why Willow hadn't told anyone about coming to visit him during Spring Break – they hadn't seen each other since his wife and daughter's wake all those years ago, and she'd been uncertain of her reception. Gibbs honestly couldn't fault her for that. But he was understandably curious as to why she had kept silent when she'd decided to spend the summer with him.

“I just-” Willow paused, and Gibbs could see her trying to form an answer. “It's silly.”

“Why?” he said in a quiet voice, insistent but not pushing. He let her take her time, knowing that he wouldn't get any answers until she's figured them out in her own head first.

“At first, I was waiting for them to ask.” she said, her eyes still fixed to the smooth wood of the boat's frame. “If they'd asked about Spring Break, or my plans for the summer, I would have told them.”

“And later?” he prodded. Gibbs knew she hadn't talked or emailed her friends since she'd arrived here six weeks ago.

“I wanted to see how long it took them to realize I wasn't there.” It came out as a whisper. “And I wanted something that was mine, that didn't involve them.”

“I told you. It's stupid.”

“It's not stupid, Willow.” he said, finally moving around to stand in front of her. “Wanting your friends to be interested in your life is normal.” Seeing that she still wasn't looking at him, Gibbs lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. “But you have to be willing to ask about their lives, too. It's a two-way street, Willow.”

“Yeah.” she said softly, looking slightly ashamed as she tried to avoid his eyes.

“Look, I'm not going to tell you what to do, but my advice is to pick up the phone and call them back. From everything you've told me about them, you've known them for a long time. Don't lose that because of a few unasked questions.”

“I guess.” Silent reigned again, as she rolled that around her brain for a time, before coming to some sort of decision. “They're going to yell.”

“So yell back.” he told her, a small smile on his face matching hers. “You don't let anyone at NCIS get away with that.”

“But these are my friends.” she reminded him.

“So?” At this point he was just teasing her and they both knew it. But Gibbs was just glad to see the sad look gone from her face.

Instead of a reply, she just gave him a narrow-eyed glare that she's apparently picked up from Shannon all those years ago, grabbed her phone from the table and went back up the stairs.

Once she was gone, Gibbs closed his eyes in relief at having dodged that bullet. Because if it had gone on any longer, he knew deep down in his gut that she would have started baking up a storm of cookies and brownies again.

And his reputation couldn't take that.

END

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