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Down the Road Alone

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Summary: NCIS agent Jethro Gibbs recieves a letter.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
NCIS > Faith-CenteredElisabeth2FR1315771128,34217 Sep 0417 Sep 04Yes
Disclaimer: Niether NCIS or Buffy the Vampire Slayer is owned my me. The characters represented in this work is owned by me. No money is being made off of this work.

“DiNozzo!” Leroy Jethro Gibbs, better known as Gibbs, spun in his chair. “Coffee, get some more coffee.” Ignoring the grumbling of the agent in the cubicle across from his, the reservist marine began to look through his e-mail and then his mail. Sorting out the various memos and the junk mail, he was left with one envelope. One thin, white, envelope, and the return address was Northern Californian Woman’s Facility, Stockton, California.

Scratching his forehead he turned it over, opening it.

“Here’s the coffee boss.” Tony handed Gibbs a white paper cup. “What you got there?” He grinned

“Nothing,” he looked at Tony. “Don’t you have something to do?” Tony lost his grin, and scuttled off to his desk while Gibbs turned back to the envelope.

It held a page of notebook paper, writing on both sides. Starting on what looked like the first page, he began to read the large, neat handwriting.

Dear Leroy Gibbs,

You don’t know me. You’ve never met me. You probably never will meet me. But what the hell, I shouldn’t really beat around the bush. My name is Faith, your daughter. Before you go all “What the hell?” let me remind you of a lady named Mary Mallory, crazy bitch.

Gibbs was inclined to agree. His first wife at the tender age of 22 was slightly this side of sane. He hadn’t seen her in over twenty years. She didn’t say she was pregnant the last time they had seen one another.

Well long story short, here I am 21, almost 22, and writing to you. As you can see by the address, I’m in prison. And by your address, you’re working for the government. So, how does it feel to have a kid in jail?

He blinked. In the past two minutes he found out he had a child, and that she was in prison. This was interesting. He took a sip of his coffee. “You forgot the sugar DiNozzo!” He turned back to the letter. It was funny, he liked kids, he honestly liked them; he just never saw himself as a father. More of like a fun uncle, someone you asked to baby-sit, but neverfelt completly confortable with.

But no matter. Five by five right? I’m not asking for you to pull any strings, I belong where I am. Hell, I’m not asking for anything, I’m just killing an afternoon, because who do I have to write to? I don’t know where my mother is, and to be honest, I really don’t care. I’m just lucky I know people who can track about anything; that’s how I got your address.

I don’t expect you to write back. After all, I’m just a random girl writing you, and this was just a way to kill an afternoon of many.


Gibbs sat back, his coffee—without sugar, in his hand. He took a sip and reread the letter. Five minutes ago, five simple minutes ago, he was just another veteran in a government job. Granted the government job was investigating homicides in the Navy, but a government job nonetheless. Then this letter comes from nowhere, and he finds out he has a daughter, a daughter in prison. Briefly he wondered why she was in prison, but shook his head to clear it, as he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

Dear Faith,

I’m sorry I’m not much, but I’m Leroy Jethro Gibbs, I prefer Jethro Gibbs or Gibbs…

The End

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