Ashleigh Anpilova


Gibbs remembers how he dreamed about Shannon telling him to forget her.

An established relationship story.

Written: October 2006. Word count: 580.



Forget about me, Jethro, please. For your own sake.


Jethro awoke with a jolt, heart racing, his body wet with perspiration. He turned the bedside lamp on and glanced around the bedroom, looking for Shannon. Even as he did, he told himself it was just a dream; just a memory. But it was so real; it always was.


He remembered how for months, years, after the death of Shannon and Kelly, he'd dreamed that she'd come to him and told him to forget her; he remembered how she had begged him to do so. How could she have done that? She must have known he never could forget her. Never would forget her.


Even now he could remember her scent, her hair, the way her eyes flashed, the way she loved him, loved Kelly; how they'd been happy, a family, complete. Except they weren't complete. Had they been thus, he wouldn't have ventured into Ducky's arms, into Ducky's bed.


It was strange, he suddenly realized; the only time he had the dreams, the only time he heard Shannon so distinctively, felt her presence so clearly, smelled her perfume with such ease, was the one place he would have thought he wouldn't be able to. She always came to him when he in Ducky's arms; in Ducky's bed. Not every time he was there, and these days it was more often the memory of her coming to him, than him actually hearing her, feeling her, sensing her.


He couldn't forget about her, no matter how many times she told him to. No matter how she pleaded with him. He couldn't. Not even for Ducky whom he loved above life itself. Not that Ducky would want him to. So why did she keep telling him to? Why did she still visit? And why only when he was with Ducky?


Because I love you, Jethro. I love you enough to want you to be happy. And Ducky makes you happy. Forget about me, Jethro, please. For your own sake. For Ducky's sake. For the sake of your happiness, your future.


Never before had she answered him so clearly. "I can't," he said softly. "Please, don't ask me to."


He heard her sigh; he felt a fleeting touch on his head.


And then she had gone.


And he knew that she would never visit him visit him again.


He was both relieved and saddened.


And then he was aware that he was being watched. He turned his head and looked down. Two pale blue eyes looked up at him, the emotion in them clear.


"Duck. I -"


"Hush, dearest. It's all right." Ducky touched his arm, and then tugged on it gently. "Come here, Jethro. Come here and let me love you. Come to me, my dear."


And Jethro obeyed.


No, he wouldn't, couldn't, forget Shannon. But suddenly he knew it was easier to remember her now than it ever had been. To remember her in the right way. His memories of her might fade, but they would never go completely, which was how it should be.


Moving into the loving, gentle embrace, he let Ducky make love to him; let his body be caressed, touched, stroked, not to bring any kind of sexual completion, merely to bring love and acceptance.


"Love you, Duck," he murmured as he slipped into sleep.


He was sure he heard Ducky's gentle, "I know, my dear. And I love you too," before the darkness once again claimed him.



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