A/N: This is the longest chapter yet, and probably my favorite. I hope you enjoy it.

Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter, TwinTrouble and CSI3Lyra. Thank you so much for the encouragement.

Like always, reviews are highly appreciated and constructive criticism and advice is always welcome. But please, save your flames for when you really need a fire.

Okay, I'll shut up now. Enjoy!

Chapter 7: Night at the Gibbs Residence

Once everyone was back at Headquarters, things started slowing down. It was edging near dinner time and the team was no closer to finding Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy than they had at the beginning of the day. The only physical evidence was a set of tire tracks, a silk thread, and a size 9 men’s shoeprint. The girls’ testimonies only provided so much clues and no one knew what was really going on at Mr. Abernathy’s work. Everyone else figured they hit a dead end, but Gibbs only thought of it as a stopping point for the night.

“Go home and get some sleep, but I expect you here at the crack of dawn tomorrow!” he called to his team.

“It’s going to be a long day,” murmured McGee to himself. His next literary masterpiece would have to be put on hold until this case was solved.

Ziva quietly packed up her stuff, watching Gibbs out of the corner of her eye. He headed quietly over to the girls’ corner. Little Arwen was finally starting to slow down, drawing on a pad of paper, so concentrated that a little wrinkle formed between her eyes and her nose was scrunched up. Nia listened to music, her features calm and smooth, while Morgan whispered the terrible news to her boyfriend on the phone. Nia was the first to notice Gibbs approaching them, despite the earphones blasting music.

“Grab your things,” he said quietly. “You are going to sleep in my place for the night.”

“Are mommy and daddy running late?” asked Arwen.

“They are,” Morgan quickly assured her, giving Gibbs a glance to go along with it.

“Daddy’ll be home for dinner though,” Arwen said with confidence. “He’s always home for dinner.”

“Daddy and mommy are on a trip,” Nia improvised. “They won’t be back for awhile.” Arwen’s mouth formed a little “o”. “In the meanwhile, we’ll be staying with Uncle Jethro.”

“Do you even have enough beds for us?” Morgan asked.

“Two of you can sleep in the guest bedroom, one can sleep in my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch.” Morgan shrugged.

The car ride back to Gibbs’ place was nothing less than awkward. Everyone was mentally and physically tired from the eventful day, so silence filled the car. Arwen and Morgan ended up falling asleep on Nia’s shoulders, as Nia stared out the front window, quietly evaluating her surroundings. Finally Gibbs spoke.

“Nia?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you a few questions about your parents?”

“Of course.”

“How much do know about your dad’s work?”

“Not much. My parents don’t really talk about their jobs that much but they seem to enjoy it. I know my dad has been working on some computer program for quite awhile. He finished it a few days ago, so he’s been much more relaxed lately. Building the program took a lot of time, so he was always stressed out that he was ignoring us. My mom had to tell him to go back to work after dinner sometimes- he was reluctant to leave the table. My mom got a little stressed out with him too, only worried that he wasn’t getting enough sleep and whatnot. She’s been pretty distracted this entire week, even after dad finished the program. Normally she’s pretty paranoid about checking up on us, but this week has been crazy. She was having us call her after we got home from school to let her know we were okay and constantly checking the doors and windows to be sure they were locked at night. She almost always does that anyway, but you could tell by the look in her eye that she was actually worried. I don’t know how to describe it, but I just got this feeling that something was wrong with her down in my gut.”

“Have any people out of the ordinary hanging around the house, or any odd phone calls, e-mails, or letters?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it possible that your father took his work on the computer program and was giving it to people outside of his work?”

“No!” Nia cried, shocked. “He is always secretive about his work and takes it all very seriously. He would never do anything like that to jeopardize his reputation, company, family, or his country.”

“Are you sure? How do you know?”

“I just know.”

And once again, silence filled the vehicle.

Gibbs’ house was not the bachelor’s pad they expected to find. Instead, it was meticulously clean and the pantry was fully stocked. The kitchen was large and had a large counter with barstools at the end. The kitchen table fit six and was undecorated. The living room had soft carpet, a nice TV, and plenty of leather couches along with a recliner. Down the hallway was a bathroom, the master bedroom (Gibbs’ room), the guestroom with an en suite bathroom, and another bathroom.

“And the door at the end of the hallway goes down to the basement.”

“Ooh! Can we go and look?”

“Not tonight,” said Gibbs as Arwen gave a little pout. “You girls can unpack and watch some TV while I cook dinner. How does pasta and garlic bread sound?”

“That sounds… great,” said Morgan reluctantly, too hungry to be ungrateful or stubborn. Gibbs walked over to the kitchen, pulling out pots and pans, leaving the girls to settle things amongst themselves.

“So, who’s sleeping where?” asked Morgan.

“I’ll sleep in Uncle Jethro’s room,” Nia said.

“But you’re more patient with her,” whispered Morgan, gesturing over to Arwen.

“Not in the morning,” said Nia. Morgan recalled her sister’s surly attitude in the morning unless she got her peace, the comics, and a cup of coffee.

“True.”

“And I’ll be just across the hallway if there are any problems.”

“Deal.” Morgan was quiet for a moment, looking at her suitcase. “I don’t want to unpack,” she said determinedly. “Uncle Jethro will find them soon,” she said aloud to comfort herself. Nia just nodded and smiled.

“He will.” She nodded and heaved her suitcase into her uncle’s room.

The girls leaned on each other as they lounged on the couch in the living room, watching cartoons on TV. Meanwhile, smells of starchy pasta, hearty tomato sauce, tangy salad dressing, crisp lettuce, and crunchy garlic bread filled the room, making their stomachs growl. When everything was prepared, the girls gladly served themselves as their uncle pulled out a beer. Nia snorted.

“The least you can do is have red wine.”

“It’s Italian beer,” Gibbs grumbled. Nia snorted again as Morgan elbowed her in the ribs. Nia scowled at her sister, who just glared at her back. Arwen glanced wearily at the situation.

“They started it!” she whispered loudly to Gibbs, establishing her innocence. Gibbs smiled to himself and ate his dinner.

“So,” Gibbs said. “It’s been how long since we’ve been together?”

“Eleven years,” Nia said curtly, sliding around her pasta on her plate.

“That long?” murmured Gibbs to himself.

“Yep,” Nia said in the same tone.

“So, what have you ladies been up to?”

A full-fledged account of Arwen’s life was launched as she told every single detail she could possibly remember, down to the name of her favorite stuffed animal (Cow, who was actually a bear), her favorite color (yellow), her favorite movie (Lion King), and her favorite shirt (the blue one with white clouds and the big yellow sunshine with lollipops and candies and the stain that won’t cut out on the shirt sleeve). Morgan talked about attending a university the following school year, majoring in chemistry, and her roles in her high school drama productions.

“What about you, Nia?”

“Me?” she asked, still pushing around the pasta on her plate.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I run cross-country and play lacrosse. And I take martial arts classes.”

“She has a black belt!” Arwen added.

“And I like reading and writing. And I’m taking a Behavioral Psychology class, which I really enjoy.”

“Next year you will be a senior. Do you know what you want to do in college?”

“Well,” she said apprehensively, “I think I want to work for the government.”

“Like a politician?”

“No,” said Nia, making a disgusted face. “Like an agent or a cop or something like you do.”

“She’s had her heart set on that since she was six,” said Morgan with a twirl of her pasta.

“Wow! That was how long? Eleven years ago?” Gibbs asked.

“Eleven years ago,” she said.

“Nia, stop picking at your food,” Morgan scolded her sister.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You need to eat something.”

“I said I’m not hungry.”

“You’ve hardly eaten anything since breakfast.”

“I really do not have much of an appetite right now, Morgan,” said Nia tersely, trying not to lose her temper.

“At least eat the salad and your bread and a little more pasta.”

“Fine,” said Nia, scooping the pasta she wouldn’t eat onto Arwen’s plate. “Eat up, Endless Pit.” Arwen giggled at her silly nickname and began to slurp up the excess pasta.

After dinner, the girls washed up and got in their pajamas. Morgan and Nia took turns reading Arwen stories until she was sprawled out on the guest bed, snoring lightly. Morgan and Nia gently tucked Arwen into bed, then said goodnight to each other, fully knowing they probably wouldn’t get that much sleep.

Nia made her way across the hall to her uncle’s room, glancing for a moment at the light coming from the door at the end of the hallway. She got into bed, staring at the dark ceiling until she pulled out a book. She couldn’t even concentrate on that, and finally got up and walked down the hallway. Quietly, she opened the door and walked down the stairs into the basement, carefully shutting the door behind her. She lightly padded down the stairs, her feet not making the slightest noise until she reached the bottom step, which slightly creaked, causing her uncle to look up from his handy work.

“What are you doing up?” he asked.

“What are you doing up?” she asked rhetorically. She paused for a moment before answering her uncle’s question. “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” he said, sanding some wood.

“What are you building? It looks like a boat.”

“It is. Do you want to help?”

“Sure,” she said with a small smile as Gibbs handed her the sanding block. She began working on a rough strip of wood with quick, exact, and ferocious strokes.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, with you,” she said, giving her uncle an odd look. “Don’t you remember? Every year during spring break you would come over and we would build stuff. Bird houses, pasta spoons, treasure chests, anything.”

“Oh yes, of course,” said Gibbs. “Why didn’t I remember that?”

“Because you’ve forgotten about us,” Nia said plaintively.

“No, I haven’t,” Gibbs tried to assure her.

“Yes, you have!” Nia cried indignantly. “It’s been 11 years, Uncle Jethro. Eleven years. And you haven’t called us, written us a letter, anything. After Shannon and Kelly died, you left us Uncle Jethro. You left us.”

“I had to get away. I had to find out who killed them,” Gibbs tried to explain with frustration.

“You weren’t the only one suffering, Uncle Jethro! My mom lost her sister and niece and us girls lost an aunt and a cousin. It hurt us too, you know! And you just walk out on us! You needed us and much as we needed you.” Gibbs put down his tools. “And you know what hurt too? You didn’t even look at us at the funeral. I was six years old, for crying out loud. Six years old and I felt like everything was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, but why did you leave us Uncle Jethro? Why?”

“Because you reminded me of her,” Gibbs said quietly. Nia looked at him, her eyes filled with mixed emotions of anger, remorse, clarity, and confusion.

“I’m sorry Uncle Jethro,” she said softly.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said, picking back up his tools and working on the boat again. Nia followed suit, sitting on the ground to sand another piece of wood. Soon, the strokes became monotonous and her eyelids felt droopy. Eventually, she fell asleep.

Gibbs didn’t notice his sleeping niece until the sanding block slipped out of her hand and onto the floor with a clunk. With a sigh, he put down his tools and scooped her up into his arms, carried her up the stairs, and laid her in his bed. He tucked the sheets around her and paused for a moment at the doorway, before shutting the door behind him.

“Nia. Nia! Psst, Nia! Wake up!”

“What?” asked Nia groggily.

“Arwen can’t go back to sleep.” Nia followed Morgan into the guestroom, where Arwen sat on the bed, sniffling.

“I miss mommy and daddy!” she softly wailed.

“Don’t worry, Arwen!” said Morgan. “They’ll be home soon.”

“Do you want to hear a story Arwen?” asked Nia, carefully getting in the bed. “Would you like that, Arwen?” Arween nodded yes. “Well, once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess named Clarabelle. Clarabelle had long dark hair and eyes as bright as the summer’s sky. One day, she was walking in the village when a carriage drove by. Inside the carriage,” Arwen yawned as Nia continued, “was Prince William. He was a handsome man, kind and always well-mannered. And as soon as he saw her,” Arwen and Morgan yawned, “it was love at first site. However, Clarabelle was an independent women, and didn’t need a prince to rescue her,” Nia said, yawning with the rest of her sisters. “And so the princess carried on, and the prince was always there to help. And eventually, they fell in love. And the lived happily ever after. The zzzzzzzzzzzzzz…”