Chapter 1 - Gathering the Matches
As Gibbs walked in the kitchen from the garden, he sighed with relief as the cooler air hit him. Putting his cap on the table, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. The last week had seen some unseasonally warm weather and, for the second Thursday in a row, he found himself mowing the lawns yet again. Sitting at the table, Gibbs drank greedily from the bottle relishing the coolness as it quenched his thirst. As he pulled the bottle from his mouth and placed it on the table, the side door opened and two children came in.
"But Tony, the birds have to eat too," said a small girl as she stomped into the house and immediately went to the fridge. Despite being quite tiny for her age, Ziva David was actually five and half years old. Her long curly hair was tied up in a pony tail and her fringe clung to her forehead in sweaty strands. Pushing the offending hair off her face, she grabbed a bottle of water and sat down at the table continuing to glare at the boy with whom she had just entered the kitchen.
He was older than her. With dark hair and large green eyes, Tony DiNozzo would be eleven in only a month's time. As he too grabbed a bottle of water and sat at the table, he lifted his foot onto the chair in order to tie up the annoying shoe lace that kept coming loose. Tony was also on the small side for his age, but he lived in hope for a growth spurt so that others would see that he was nearing eleven instead of often mistaking him for still being nine. Just the other day when they had been shopping at the market, yet another woman had stopped them to talk to their tall, handsome father. On noticing the two children she had exclaimed how adorable they were and then went on to say, 'how old are they, 3 and 9?'. He still smiled when he remembered how Ziva had looked up at the woman with her hands on her hips and loudly declared, 'excuse me Ma'am but I'm five and a half and my brother is nearly eleven. And my Daddy is really old and he's not looking for any new friends right now, so thank you but we must be going.' And with that she had grabbed her father's hand and promptly marched the three of them to the freezer section.
"I know Ziva," continued Tony in a tone of exasperation as he unscrewed the lid of his water bottle. "But, if you put the feeder too close to the tree house, then we end up with bird poop all over the house. Why can't you hang the bird feeder in a different tree?"
"Because, I like it near the house. It makes it look all homely," argued Ziva.
"Well you can clean up the bird poop then! I'm done with that," said Tony crossing his arms. "Tell her Dad please. She keeps hanging the bird feeder outside the house window and there's bird poop everywhere."
Looking at his daughter's stubborn face, he realised he would have more luck convincing her the sky was green. Ziva may be little but she had the determination of a professional athlete aiming for the Olympics.
"Daddy, tell Tony that the birds need to eat too and the bird feeder looks pretty hanging from the window," Ziva said crossing her arms in show of defiance and glaring at her older brother.
"Dad, tell her to hang the feeder from another tree," retorted Tony, not breaking the eye contact he had with Ziva.
"How about both of you start talking to each other and leave me out of it," replied Gibbs.
"I've tried Dad, but she won't listen," complained Tony.
Ziva responded by poking her tongue out at her brother.
"Hey!" admonished Gibbs. "Use your words. We've spoken about this before. Poking your tongue out at someone is rude and disrespectful and I don't want to see it young lady." Gibbs looked sternly at the little girl sitting opposite him. "Understand?"
"Yes," responded Ziva reluctantly.
"Now, Tony has a very good point Ziva. If you hang the feeder too close to the tree house it will get covered in bird poop and that will eat away at the beautiful paint work you did.
Tony snorted.
Ignoring him Gibbs continued. "Are you prepared to scrub the house down every couple of days to stop the paint being ruined Ziva?" asked Gibbs looking at her.
Releasing a loud sigh, Ziva rolled her eyes and replied, "I guess not."
"Well then, why don't you hang the feeder somewhere else away from any of the wood? There are plenty of other trees in the garden," suggested Gibbs.
"Fine," grumbled Ziva, grabbing her water and standing up. "But don't blame me if you start finding dead birds in the garden because they don't know where their food is!" She turned abruptly and stomped out of the kitchen and back into the garden.
"Thanks Dad," said Tony when Ziva had gone. "She can be so stubborn sometimes."
"Yes, and you're always so compliant!" replied Gibbs sarcastically, rolling his eyes at his son.
Tony grinned and took a mouthful of his drink. Putting the bottle down, he strolled over to the wall calendar. Staring at it he suddenly said, "Hey, today is the first of June. I'd better turn the calendar to the right month."
Gibbs just nodded as he watched Tony unhooked the calendar from the wall and turn the month of June over the month of May. Hanging it back up again, he wandered over to the fridge. Opening the door, he peered in saying, "What's for dinner?"
"Don't know," replied Gibbs. "Jenny's bringing something over."
"Yes!" replied Tony making a fist and punching the air in front of him. Even with his back turned he could feel the stare from his Dad. Turning around he saw the raised eyebrow look he was now being given.
"Um, well, I don't mean to offend or anything, but Jenny's cooking is way better than yours Dad."
Smiling Gibbs had to agree with him. Ever since Ziva and Tony had come to live with him, cooking a variety of healthy and tasty meals had been one of his greatest challenges. Having Jenny supply them with meals a couple of times of week certainly helped to break the monotony of steak and vegetables. Not to mention the added bonus of her company while the four of them sat down together and enjoyed her delicious offerings.
"Tony, either pick something out or shut the door," called Gibbs as Tony still stood staring into the fridge cavity.
Sighing Tony shut the door and returned to the table empty handed.
"Why don't you have an apple?" suggested Gibbs seeing his son was more bored than hungry.
"Nah, don't feel like an apple," replied Tony.
"Well go and see where Ziva has decided to hang the bird feeder then," said Gibbs taking a mouthful of water.
Sighing, Tony got up and headed out the side door.
"Ah, Dad," Gibbs heard him call about two seconds later. "You might want to come and see this."
Dreading to think where Ziva may have decided to put the bird feeder, he reluctantly rose from the chair and headed for the door. He didn't have to go far. Standing on the patio he looked up to see Ziva scooting along the wooden beams of the pergola, one hand holding the bird feeder, the other supporting her body as she edged towards the middle.
"Ziva," sighed Gibbs. "What are you doing?"
"I'm hanging the bird feeder," she responded in a tone that clearly said 'what does it look like I'm doing?' but dared not to.
Choosing to deal with her choices regarding the bird feeder and putting on hold the fact that she wasn't meant to be up there in the first place, Gibbs asked in a frustrated tone, "Ziva, why did I suggest you move it from the tree house?"
"Because you said it would get bird poop all over it," she answered.
"Exactly! So why would putting it under here not be a good idea?" he asked.
"But I want it near the house so I can see the birds," she argued.
Grabbing a chair, Gibbs stepped onto it and, reaching up, managed to extract the bird feeder out of Ziva's tiny hand. "Get down please," he commanded, stepping off the chair and placing the feeder on the cedar table.
"Daddy!" she called, frowning down at him. "Give me back the bird feeder! I want to hang it up." Seeing the glare she was currently receiving, she quickly added, "please."
"I asked you to get down, now do it please," came Gibbs' reply.
Groaning in complaint, she moved her body to a thinner beam, and shifting herself, she gripped the beam and let her body fall so she was hanging above the table.
As Gibbs saw what she was about to do, he yelled, "No Ziva! You'll break your leg if you jump from there."
"Well, catch me then," was her reply.
Standing once again on the chair, Gibbs reached up and wrapped his arms around her thighs. She immediately let go and, stepping down from the chair, he deposited her on the decking of the patio.
"Ziva, we have spoken so many times about your climbing," he began sternly. "What have I told you?"
She looked down and began to pick at her fingernails.
"Ziva?" he repeated crossly.
"But I wanted to hang the..."
Ziva, what have I told you about climbing?" Gibbs said again, his tone demanding an immediate response.
She sighed. "I can only climb the trees and climbing frame in our backyard or climbing frames in a playground," she parroted knowing precisely what the rules were.
"Exactly," said Gibbs. "Go and sit at the kitchen table, you have a five minute time out coming."
"But..." she began.
"No buts Ziva," growled Gibbs. "You know the rules regarding climbing. Now we will discuss the position of the bird feeder after your time out. Go please,"
"But..." she insisted.
"Ziva, the only butt you need to worry about right now is yours because my hand is about to connect with it if you don't sit at that kitchen table now!" said Gibbs sternly.
"Hmph!" she pouted as she stomped her foot and turned abruptly, re-entering the kitchen. Gibbs followed, and watched as she plonked herself on one of the chairs. Going to the timer he set it for five minutes and then walked back out onto the patio where Tony was still standing.
"Do you want me to hang it somewhere Dad?" Tony asked.
"Thanks for the offer Tony, but it's probably best if Ziva does it. I told her we would discuss the bird feeder after the time out so it isn't fair if it's already hung somewhere when she's done." Gibbs responded, smiling at his son.
Tony nodded.
"What time is Jenny coming around?" Tony asked.
Gibbs looked at his watch. It was 4.30pm. "In about an hour," he replied. "She didn't have any meetings this afternoon so she shouldn't be late."
"I hope she brings spaghetti," Tony said. "I love her spaghetti. It's almost as good as my mom's."
"Yeah?" said Gibbs. "You should tell Jenny that. She'd like to hear that you think her cooking is yummy."
"You like her don't you Dad?" Tony asked grinning.
"What do you mean?" asked Gibbs suspiciously.
"Jenny, you like her!"
"Yes of course I like her. She's been very helpful to us. She offers to cook us great meals, she looks after you and Ziva sometimes, and she's a good friend," answered Gibbs, not really sure where his son was going with this.
"Yeah, but it's more than that," continued Tony. "I know about these things Dad," he said wisely. "Senior had lots of lady friends that he would bring home and he even married one of them. They split up though and lots of his girlfriends didn't stay for long." He paused then added, "because of me."
"Tony, it had nothing to do with you," Gibbs assured him. "Even if they said that, or Senior said that, it was just an excuse because they didn't have the guts to give the real reason."
Tony shrugged and continued, "Well whatever, but what I'm saying is, I know about girlfriends and stuff and I think you would like Jenny for a girlfriend, wouldn't you?"
Gibbs looked at Tony and wondered how he should respond. Then, hit with an idea he said, "Ok, Tony. Talking as man to man here so it stays between us ok?" Gibbs took a seat on one of the chairs.
"Sure Dad," said Tony finding a second chair and moving closer to his Dad. "Man to man," he repeated.
"Well, a long time ago, Jenny and I were very close. She...." Looking for the right word Gibbs decided to use the one Tony had referred to. "She was my girlfriend."
"Really?" said Tony. "When?" he asked.
"About seven years ago, well nearly nine years ago if you go back to when we started getting close. We worked together but I was her boss then. We used to investigate crimes." Gibbs was going to use Tim as an example but realised that Tony had no memory of his time at NCIS nor of Tim's or Gibbs' work. It felt strange explaining to his former Senior field agent what kind of work they used to do.
"Then, my boss decided that Jenny and I should go to Europe to work undercover to catch some bad people who were hurting others."
"What does undercover mean Dad?" asked Tony.
"It's when you pretend to be someone else, a bit like wearing a disguise, so that people won't know who you are or where you work. You can pretend to be helping the bad guys even though you are really trying to catch them," explained Gibbs. Tony nodded.
"So Jenny and I were sent France first of all and it was there when we realised we were more than just friends and we became...girlfriend and boyfriend, I suppose." Gibbs cringed at how juvenile it sounded but it was in a language that Tony understood.
"Did ya kiss?" Tony asked grinning.
"Yes, Tony. We kissed," replied Gibbs rolling his eyes.
"Did ya have sex?"
"What!" exclaimed Gibbs, eyes bulging. He hadn't expected that question. "What do you know about sex?"
"I know it's something that comes after kissing and it's how you get a baby. Hey did you and Jenny have a baby?" asked Tony suddenly making the connection.
"No Tony, we didn't have a baby," answered Gibbs.
"Oh ok. So you didn't have sex then, because if you did you would have a baby," Tony concluded.
Gibbs said nothing but thanked all higher powers that Tony seemed happy that his question was now answered.
"So what happened?" asked Tony.
"How do you mean?" said Gibbs.
"Well, you and Jenny aren't together now, so something must have happened." Tony looked at his Dad waiting for an answer.
Gibbs thought about that. How could he explain to a ten year old that the only other women he truly loved besides Shannon had written him a 'Dear John' letter and broken his heart?
"Jenny was asked to do some work somewhere else and I couldn't go with her, so she felt it was best if we stopped seeing each other," Gibbs said.
Tony nodded again, happy to accept that as an explanation.
Gibbs thought to himself, such a simple way to describe the second worse time of his life. If he was honest with himself, and it wasn't a time he liked to dwell upon, he had been devastated when he'd found the letter from Jenny. After Shannon he really didn't think he'd ever meet someone he'd truly love again. He tried to find that in Diane, but he realised pretty quickly that Diane was never going to fulfil that need for love, nor was he ever going to be able to truly reciprocate. But with Jenny things had been different. Whether it was because they had started out as co-workers, partners in the field, he couldn't say. But he had quickly fallen for her feisty 'can do' attitude. The way she never took any crap from either him or Burley. He would never describe her as 'one of the boys' but she certainly could hold her own. A lot like Ziva he thought reminded once again of how similar they were.
Once his divorce from Diane had come through, he'd tried not to see it as a green light with Jenny. But then came Marseille, cooped up in a tiny attic room, middle of summer with nothing to do but take photographs of people who boarded a Lebanese trawler. He had tried to ignore the closeness, the lack of clothing due to the heat, the pent up energy of not being able to move. And he'd succeeded, for one night.
The second night? Well, it had just become all too much for both of them. He certainly hadn't regretted their actions and, if her sated grin was anything to go by, he was fairly sure Jenny had enjoyed herself. The simple fact that they made love nearly as often as they breathed while in that tiny room certainly implied that she held no regrets. He had wondered at the time though if it was just an impulsive reaction to the surroundings but, once the stakeout was finished and they'd moved onto Paris, he discovered Jenny just as willing to continue their new-found relationship as he was. Being undercover as lovers certainly helped to fuel their desires.
And, as they found themselves going deeper undercover throughout France, the Czech Republic and Russia, Gibbs discovered that he'd found something he thought he'd never experience again. Love. Yes, he knew it began as lust, passion and probably a bit of boredom on both their counts, but for him it had blossomed into more. He had thought Jenny felt the same way. So, nearly twelve months later, to find that letter in her coat pocket which she'd left on the plane had been more than a slap in the face. It had felt like a knife through his heart. Two more wives later and that knife still twisted when he saw her. He felt frustrated that after seven years, he still felt the same way. Oh sure, he'd been angry, hurt, betrayed, but despite everything, he still loved Jennifer Shepard. As much as he tried not to admit it, she had become the 'thorn in his side', his Achilles heel. One look from her beautiful green eyes, one flash of the cheeky grin she reserved just for him, and he was lost again.
"Dad!"
He was startled from his reverie, first by Tony's shout and then by the incessant beeping of the stove timer. Shaking his head to bring himself back to reality, he stood up.
"Wow Dad, where did you go?" asked Tony. "I called you three times before you responded."
"Sorry Tony," said Gibbs clearing his throat. "I got lost in some old memories." He ruffled Tony's hair and then headed into the kitchen.
As he walked towards the timer, he looked at Ziva. Sitting with her elbows on the table and her chin resting in the palms of her hands, she scowled as she made eye contact with him. Ignoring her, he flicked off the timer and sat at the table next to her.
"So, why are you in time out?" Gibbs asked.
"Because you put me here," she replied cheekily.
"Would you like another five minutes?" he asked glaring at her.
"No," she said, slumping forward. "Because I climbed where I shouldn't have."
"Right," Gibbs said. "And what have I told you to do if you can't reach something?"
"Come and get you," she said quietly. "But if I'd done that you would have said no anyway."
"I know," responded Gibbs. "And why would I have said no?"
She didn't answer, so he continued. "Because you knew that hanging the bird feeder under the pergola would be just as bad as the tree house. We don't want bird poop under there either. So why did you do it?"
She shrugged.
"Think about it. I'd like an answer please." Gibbs said sternly.
"I don't know," she said a little more loudly. "I wanted it near a house and if it couldn't be near the tree house then I thought maybe our house. I want to see the birds eating the food."
"You can see the birds if it's hanging from any one of the other trees in the garden," Gibbs reasoned. "Now would you still like to hang it somewhere or would you like Tony to choose where it goes?"
"I want to hang it," she replied moodily.
"Well then, you go and pick a spot you know is sensible." Gibbs suggested. "If you decide to put it near the house or the tree house again, then Tony will get the chance to pick a spot. Ok?"
"Fine!" she said grumpily, getting up and stomping out the kitchen into the backyard. Gibbs watched her go and sighed. Over the last two weeks she had began to become increasingly more moody and difficult. He'd asked her several times what was bothering her but had only received as a response either a shrug of the shoulders or a simple 'nothing' as a reply. One thing he did know though, was that if she didn't start to drop the attitude, little Miss David was going to find herself in some serious trouble soon. He was prepared to take a certain amount of attitude due to her former upbringing, but when it started to turn into disrespect and downright rudeness, it was time to put a stop to it.
He was just about to head back into the garden when he heard the front door open and the tell-tale sound of heels clicking on the wooden floor. Looking up he saw Jenny enter the kitchen carrying a large pot. Getting up, he relieved her of her heavy burden and placed it on the stove top.
"Hi," he said smiling at her. He looked at his watch, 4.48. "You're early."
"Yeah," Jenny replied, grabbing a mug from the cupboard and pouring herself a cup of coffee. "There wasn't anything urgent that needed doing this afternoon so I thought I might give myself an early mark."
She sat at the table with her mug of coffee and took a sip. Sighing, she replaced the cup on the table and rotated her neck to try and relieve some of the tension that had built up over the day. Coming up behind her, Gibbs placed his hands on her shoulders and began to massage, working into some of the knots he could feel had already formed.
"Oh, that feels so good Jethro," she said tiredly. "Ahh, just a little higher up the neck...yeah that's it," she said as he worked into the tight muscles along either side of her throat.
"Tough day?" he asked.
"Tough week," she replied. "It's been one of those weeks that feels like it's one step forwards and two steps backwards. I'm just so tired at the moment. I reckon I could sleep for a week. Ouch!" she exclaimed as he hit a particular sore spot just under her left ear.
Feeling along the other side of her neck Gibbs said, "That's not muscle, that's your glands. Maybe you're coming down with something?" he said, moving his hand to her forehead to check for any sign of a fever. She didn't feel warm.
"I'm fine Jethro," she said, pushing his hand away. "It's nothing that a couple of nights of decent sleep won't fix."
"So why aren't you sleeping?" he asked her, sitting down at the table.
"Too much to think about," she replied flippantly. He sensed she didn't want to talk about it so he let it go.
"Abby says hi and she gave me this to give to you," Jenny said, reaching into her bag and taking out a photo frame. It was in the same style as the one Abby had giving him when they'd celebrated Tony and Ziva's one month anniversary of living with him. Inside the frame was a photo Abby had set on self timer and taken that same night. Sitting in the middle of the couch was Gibbs with Jenny next to him. Tony was perched on Gibbs lap while Ziva was sat on Jenny's. Behind the couch was Abby bent forward with her arms around Gibbs neck and her chin resting on his head. Next to her was Tim, his right arm in a plaster cast and finally, next to Tim was Ducky. Everyone was smiling and looking relaxed. Abby had taken several photos that night, but this one, when she'd shown them to him, had been his favourite. He knew she was going to put it in a frame for him and he was pleased she'd found one that matched the other she had given him. Whereas the first one had 'Family is Forever' engraved on it, this one had 'Our Family' engraved at the top.
"That's great," he said smiling at the photograph. "I'll give her a call later and thank her."
"Yeah, we don't scrub up too bad," replied Jenny also looking at the photo.
"What ya looking at?" asked Tony as he entered the kitchen and stood behind Gibbs' shoulder. Gibbs held the frame up so he could see.
"Cool!" he said looking at it. "It matches the other one."
"Can I see?" asked Ziva, also entering the kitchen and squeezing herself between Jenny and Gibbs.
"Sure," replied Gibbs, showing her the picture.
"That's one of the photos Abby took when we had that big cake," she said looking at the picture.
"That's the one," agreed Gibbs. "Abby gave it to us. The frame matches the other one she bought. So we can stand them together and everyone can see all our family."
"Can I put it with the other one?" Ziva asked.
"Sure thing pumpkin," replied Gibbs, giving it to her.
She took hold of it and skipped into the living room. When she returned she smiled and said, "They look good together."
"What's for tea Jenny," asked Tony.
"Spaghetti Bolognaise," she replied. "But I still need to cook the pasta. I figured I could do that here and it will be fresh."
"Yum!" exclaimed Tony. "Thanks Jenny. I love your spaghetti, it's almost as good as the one my Mom used to make me." He reached over and gave Jenny a hug. Surprised at this sudden display of affection she wrapped her arms around him and hugged back.
"Thank you Tony. That's a huge compliment and I'm very pleased you like my spaghetti." She patted his back as he pulled out of the hug.
"Well to tell the truth, anything you make it pretty good. Makes a change from burnt steaks and dry vegetables," he added whispering. "Ouch!" he yelped as Gibbs' hand connected with his backside.
"I might just put you on cooking detail for the next week and see what you can manage seeing as my cooking obviously doesn't live up to expectation," Gibbs replied pretending to sound hurt.
"Daddy's cooking is good," said Ziva, climbing onto Gibbs lap and putting her arms around his neck. "At least he tries to do something and he doesn't blow up eggs in the microwave."
Frowning, Jenny gave Tony a puzzled look.
Tony shrugged. "How was I supposed to know that raw eggs blow up in the microwave. I thought it would be quicker than the stove."
Jenny laughed. "Don't worry Tony, I'll show you how to do it properly."
"And me?" asked Ziva.
"And you," replied Jenny. "I might even show Daddy if he's good," she added, giving Gibbs one of her cheeky grins. He just returned her grin with a smirk, deciding the retort that was itching to be said was probably not G rated.
"Can I cook the pasta for Daddy tonight?" asked Ziva, noticing the look that passed between Jenny and Gibbs.
"No sweetie, it's not something you can do on your own," Gibbs replied.
"But you can help me honey," said Jenny.
"No I want to do it all by myself," argued Ziva, not looking at Jenny but staring at Gibbs.
"Cooking pasta involves a very heavy pot and lots of boiling water, Ziva," said Jenny trying to get the girl's attention. "So you can't do it on your own, but I'm more than happy to have you help."
"I can so do it on my own," replied Ziva crossly turning to look at Jenny. "I'm not an idiot you know."
"Hey!" admonished Gibbs, tapping her on the bottom to get her attention. "Jenny never said you were. She simply explained why you can't cook the pasta on your own. There's no need for that kind of rudeness."
"But she's making me sound like a baby," added Ziva sulkily.
"The only person who's making you sound like a baby is you Missy," said Gibbs, turning her so she was looking him in the eye. "Right now you sound like a naughty toddler who can't get their own way. And if you keep this up, you'll find yourself in another timeout."
She pulled away from him and climbed down to the floor. "Who wants to make stupid pasta anyway?" she grumbled as she stomped out of the room. "Any baby could make that. It's nothing special." She continued grumbling as she marched up the stairs but what she said couldn't be heard in the kitchen.
"Why is she acting like this Dad?" asked Tony when they heard Ziva's bedroom door shut. "She's getting worse."
"I don't know Tony," sighed Gibbs. "But I'm getting pretty sick of it as well."
"Can I watch some TV?" asked Tony getting up from the table.
"Sure Bud," replied Gibbs. Dinner won't be for another hour yet."
As Tony left the kitchen, Gibbs looked at Jenny. "I have no idea what's got into her lately. She too young for it to be hormonal and every time I ask her what's wrong, I either get a shrug or 'nothing'.
"I don't know," replied Jenny. "I've noticed it recently too. Something's clearly bothering her. I guess she'll tell us when she's ready."
"Well she might want to make it soon," said Gibbs grimly. "Because if she keeps this up for much longer she's going to find herself in serious trouble. I won't put up with that kind of rudeness and disrespect. She's five, not fifteen!" he added, clearly frustrated with his daughter's behaviour.
"Don't let it get to you," placated Jenny. She stood up and stretched, yawning. "Well I think I might join Tony and veg in front of the tellie for a bit. Do you mind?" she asked placing her hand on Gibbs arm.
"Of course not," he replied. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked again, concern etched on his face.
"I'm fine Jethro," she responded with a touch of frustration in her voice. "I'm just tired. I'll start the pasta around a quarter to six." She smiled at him and then headed into the living room. Gibbs watched as she removed her shoes and curled up in one of the arm chairs. Although she was facing the screen, Gibbs could see that she wasn't watching the program. Shaking his head he turned and gathered her mug from the table and placed it in the sink. Something wasn't right, he thought. But, he knew from experience, he wouldn't find out what was bothering her until she was ready to talk. He hoped it would be soon. Between Jenny and Ziva, Gibbs was finding the females in this house somewhat frustrating at the moment. Looking at the basement door, he decided to head down and spend some time sanding his boat. The rhythmic movement was just what he needed right now to distract him from both the worry and frustration he was feeling.