Disclaimer: NCIS doesn’t belong to me, even though I wish it did, it doesn’t.
Note: This is the second of the Lost Forever.
Summary: “I've done this ten times and I know how to slide through the many people with out making a noise or catching anyone's attention.”<br> I walk through the front doors of the medium sized church, wiping my feet on the mat at the base of the door.
I walk through the front area of the building, my feet hardly making a noise as I walk on the light blue carpet.
The two large doors leading into the main area of the church are open, and I walk across the threshold and sit quietly in the very last pew.
The church is very full for it's small size, and the decorations around the walls give a peaceful feel to the red brick walls.
At the moment about seven little children are at the front of the church, singing "Away in a Manger" for all of their family and friends sitting in the audience to hear.
As there song is finished, they walk up a few small stairs and stand with the rest of the children in the Christmas pageant.
The next performer walks down the few small stairs, and I know its her.
Her red hair is done up in the back and the front left with her bangs, that she must be trying to grow out, flowing gently down both sides of her face.
Her dark blue dress flowed down her legs perfectly, the deep blue in the dress drawing out her own deep blue eyes.
As she started to sing I realized how fast she had grown up, how many years it had been since he had talked to her.
The last thing I had ever said to her was, "I'll be back every ones and a while Jen, but you have to stay here.", but I never came back, Susanna had told me not to come near her. She had threatened me time after time, that she would tell Jennifer I was dead, that she would tell her I didn't love her. I never wanted her to think any of those things, so I stayed away, I left Jen ten years ago and never came back.
As she sings I can tell she got her voice from her mother, and as the years had pasted she was looking more and more like her.
She smiled as she waited for the songs long instrumental part to finish so she could use her lovely voice to sing with the instruments again. As she smiled I could see that the braces she had once had on her teeth were now gone, showing her bright white teeth.
She finished the song and the rest of the children in the pageant walked down beside her, and all took a bow as they finished the production.
I stand up and walk away with all of the other people that had attended the Christmas play, making myself blend into the crowd as to not be seen by anyone that might know me.
I've done this ten times and I know how to slide through the many people with out making a noise or catching anyone's attention.
I walk out side and I know I'm home free, walking to my car is the only thing I have to do before I'm gone and heading back to DC.
As get to my car and sit down I see her walking across the parking lot, most likely for some lunch in the other building.
I start my car and drive away, this is what I do every year, I drive four hours just to come see her in the Christmas play and drive four hours back.
This is what I do, just to see her for ten minutes.
That's what I do.
Last Edit: Dec 4, 2004 15:11:28 GMT -5 by nikkinor
A/N: This was one of my projects for school, we got a list of words and we had to write a story using at least 15 of them, I what else was I suppose to do other than write an NCIS story.
Disclaimer: NCIS doesn’t belong to me, even though I wish it did, it doesn’t.
Summary: "No, there has to be someone who can save him, someone." was the last thing I said before I fell to the floor crying.
I walk the small distance to my bedroom door, opening it as I turn the knob. I flip the light on as I walk into the warm, chocolate colored room.
Christmas is just a few days away and I'll have the next week off of work.
There are not a lot of things I do for Christmas any more, the normal dinner with my family and exchange of presents with close friends and family.
I use to do a lot more for the season, decorate a tree and my old house, bake cookies and pies, play Christmas music, but now I just don't get into the festivities of the time of year.
It's my first Christmas that I've really felt sad and alone, with nothing keeping my mind on some immediately important task.
It's my first Christmas without him, the man I loved so much.
It wasn't really my first Christmas without him, just the first I had the time to think about him not being here with me for the joy and laughter of the season.
Last year I was busy with my new job at NCIS and didn't have the time to think about Christmas and him not being with me.
I kneel down beside my bed and search underneath for what I had come into my bedroom for.
Pulling out a box from the cluttered space I use for storage, I open it to find the mess of all the things I had put in it for the memories they held.
I blow the dust on the top of the box making the cloud of dust flutter in the air and settle down on the floor, it had definitely been a long time since I had looked through this box.
I push an offensive strand of my hair back out from my face, my ears holding the brown piece of salient hair back securely.
Looking down at the clutter of the box it takes me a minute to find the large blue box I had tried to forget existed.
I pull it out and run my fingers over the gilded lettering imprinting his name on the blue velvet that completely covered the box.
I had gotten him the box for one Christmas, he had liked its soft velvet and blue color. It was suppose to be for him to keep his pictures and the other things sorted he had cluttered around his house, but he had just taken the movable separators out of the box and stuffed it all into the box, deleting all arrangement it could have had.
Extremely grateful that I hadn't burned the box years ago when we had had a really bad argument and I had taken what I could find that was his and through it into my fireplace.
I open the lid of the box, a picture of the two of us dining at the restaurant he had asked me to marry him at.
That had been the greatest day of my life, he had gotten down on one knee and told me he loved me more than anything in the world and asked me to marry him.
I tried to hold back the tears that were begging to fall from my eyes.
I lift that picture out of the way finding two more stacks of pictures underneath, picking up the first they were just random pictures of him and his friends and a few if his family. Picking up the second stack I found pictures of us, me and him with backpacks in front of a sylvan landscape getting ready to hike through the woods. But the rest were all of Christmas, our snow covered house, the two of us playing in the snow, one of him putting up the Christmas tree.
"Kate, come on and help me put up the Christmas tree and stop taking pictures?" he begged me as I walked into the living room snapping a picture of him.
"You know I won't be any help to you, I couldn’t put a Christmas tree if my life depended on it."
"Honey, just come around the back and hold the back of the tree so I can put it up strait."
I walk around the back of the tree, pushing it as strait as I can.
"Do you have it?" he asks me from the other side of the tree.
"Ok, I'm going to let go and tighten it down at the base."
"I'm letting go,” he said as he let go of his side, but I didn't expect it to be so heavy.
"I don't have it any more, Matt." I called out as I tried my best to hold it steady.
"Just hold it there one more minute and I'll have it tightened."
"I can't get a good grip on it Matt."
"Just one more second and I'll have it done."
"Matt, it’s tipping this way, Matt it’s coming down!" I almost yell as the tree comes down on me.
"Kate! Katie!" he calls as he slides under the tree to get me.
"I'm over here!" I call out as I see him crawl under the tree.
"You ok, nothing broken?" he asks me as he comes up beside me.
"Nothing broken, maybe a scratch or two, but nothing to bad." I say as look up to see that to tree hit the corner and stopped right above my head.
"Good, now help me push the tree back up." he said as he started to push up on the tree.
I got up beside him and helped push the tree back into place.
"It looks good."
"It won't look really good until we put some lights and ordainments on it. I helped put the tree up, now help me with the lights."
The next picture was of the tree when it was all decorated, the lights shining bold and bright.
"It looks beautiful," I say as Mathew snakes his arm around my waist.
"Not as beautiful as you."
A tear slips from my eye the memories of him are showed clearly in the pictures.
The next few were of the snowman they had built in the front yard.
"Kate, that snowman is shameful, you definitely need my snowman building guidance."
"Matt, it looks just fine. Stop messing with his face."
"Look, he just needs a little help from the Dr. Snow."
"Dr. Snow? Have you had time to think about this?"
"Yes, now get me some more snow, he looks like you took a giant bite out of him."
He worked on the snowman for about fifteen minutes before he called me to come look at it.
"See, doesn't he look so much better than before?"
"Yes, I guesse you were right about him being a shameful snowman."
The last in the stack was from their Christmas party, when her sister had taken her and Mathew's picture under the mistletoe.
"What was that?" I called out as I turned.
"Just a picture of you and Matt." answered Christie from behind her.
"Christie, would you stop taking pictures with my camera."
"You said you wanted lots of pictures of the party, I thought I'd just give my little sis a hand."
"I wanted pictures of my friends at the party, I think I have enough pictures of myself."
I set the stack of pictures to the side, small tears still running down my cheeks.
There were little nick knacks in the box, his watch, one of his hats, and the one thing that made the small tears on my face grow to large ones running fast down my face.
It was a small black box, the one that held the engagement ring he had given me.
"Close your eyes really quick, ok."
"When I say open, you open your eyes and answer a question for me, ok?"
I open my eyes to find him kneeling down on one knee beside me, holding a black box with a ring in it.
"Caitlin Alexandra Todd, will you marry me?"
"Of course I will."
I open the box to look at the ring, it was beautiful, the golden band and the diamond rock. He had picked it out just for me, he had saved his money forever just to get me the beautiful little ring.
I slid it on my finger, it still fit perfectly.
Why did he have to leave me so long ago, why did he have to go and not me?
"Ms. Todd, he's not doing so good, were doubtful that he'll live for much longer,” the doctor told her as she showed her to Matt's room.
"But there's still hope he'll make, right?"
"There's always hope, but he's in really bad condition from the wreck and has a lot of blood."
"Is he conscience?"
"No, he can't see or hear you."
She nods and walks away, leaving me at the door to his room by myself.
I open the door, preparing myself of what I might see.
But it was no use, seeing him there on the hospital bed with tubes and wires running around him, the tears came and I couldn't stop them.
I sit down on the chair beside his bed, and pick up his cold, colorless hand.
He was slowly losing his battle and I knew it.
"Why'd you have to go and get hit by a car?" the tears were poring from my eyes now, "You just can't leave me like this, you can't just die on me, not now, not like this." I hold his hand up to my face, "Please don't leave me, please don't go without me telling you I love you." 'Please don't leave me' was what I repeated as I cried there in the hospital room. "Please don't leave me," I said as my cries turned to sobs, "I love you to much for you to just leave me."
A few seconds later one of the machines had started to flash red and make a horrible noise.
A almost ran into the hallway as I yelled for someone to help him, for someone to make sure he was ok.
A nurse came into the room, checking the machines over, she turned to me slowly, "I'm sorry," was the only thing she got out before I started to yell.
"No, you can save him, please do something to save him. Get a doctor, get someone to save him, you have people that can save him!"
"Ma'am, there’s nothing I can do for him now, he's gone. Now please settle down."
"No, there has to be someone who can save him, someone." was the last thing I said before I fell to the floor crying.
I held the box tight to my chest as I cried, I just cried for my loss, for him leaving me and not taking him with me.
A/N: Ok, just a story I wrote, it has more chapters (a lot more) and I hope you like it.
Title: Happy Christmas
Summary: "I'll never want anything but to know I wasn't a mistake, and that maybe someone does loves me."
Disclaimer: None of it belongs to me, even though I wish it did, it doesn't.
The sun slowly dipped under the trees and hills as I think about why I'm here.
I never thought I'd be sitting in bus on my way to meet him.
I never thought I'd meet my father at all.
My mother had always told me he was an okay guy, and that their parents didn't approve their relationship and that the pressure of it had torn them apart.
She's never really said anything bad about him, but she's never really said anything good about him either.
She never talked about him at all unless I asked, and after her just crying at any mention of him I learned not to ask.
I don't know that much about him, and I never expected to know that much about him.
I had overheard one of her conversations with one of her friends when I was younger.
About how he was the normal football jock with everything going for him, and she was the blond cheerleader that aspired to be teacher some day.
They had been the perfect couple, best friends since second grade that had slowly become girlfriend and boyfriend, the two people that everyone else wanted to be, the image of perfection.
They had wanted to get married after high school, to go to college, get good jobs, and someday have a family.
But in there senior year the mistake that was me killed there hopes and dreams.
I had been the child that neither of my parents had really wanted, but that someone had to take.
After that I knew she had lied to me, that I had split them apart not their parents.
Neither of them wanted a baby then and the decision of what to do about me had slowly drew them apart.
I always hated that I was a mistake, that my mother and father never really wanted me.
I was ten when I had heard her say that, and it hurts just as much now as it did then.
I look down at my watch and I still have an hour till this long bus ride ends and I can embark on the last part of my trip.
My mother would kill me if she knew where I was, but I know she has no idea I'm not sitting at home and watching something on the TV.
If she knew I was on a bus going to DC to see my father, I'd be grounded till I was thirty.
I look down at my watch again and it's only been one minute since I looked at it before.
I try to think of what kind of dad he is, if he's nice and kind or if he's angry and mad.
I wonder if he's the kind of dad that when your mom tells you to go to bed that he tells you if you be quiet you can stay up and watch a move with him.
I wonder if he's the kind of dad that goes out in the backyard and plays football, or sits down and plays a board game, or if he just likes to sit down and watch a movie or TV.
I wonder if he's the kind of dad that takes his daughter to a baseball game and eats hotdogs and peanuts just for the sake of going to a game.
I wonder what color his eyes are, if there blue or brown or green.
I wonder what color his hair is, if it's brown or blond or red or gray.
I wonder if he's tall or if he's short, if he's an only child or if he has lots of bothers and sisters, if he smiles a lot or if he never smiles.
Small fluffs of snowfalls from the sky and stick to my window.
I love snow, how it tastes good and you can do almost anything with it, how it covers the ground and makes everything clean and white.
I wonder if he likes snow or if he likes any of the things I like.
There are so many things I don't know about him, so many questions I want to ask him.
Once again I look down at my watch, and now I only have forty-five minutes to go.
Time sure does fly when you’re talking to yourself.
I watch the trees and the bushes run by my window as the white fluffy snow falls out side on the trees and road.
It's really dark outside now and with the slow fall of snow on the windows it gives the bus an almost eerie feeling.
I hold by bag close to me as I lay my head against the cold window beside me.
My legs hurt, and I know it's the fact that I haven't moved them in over five hours and the comfort, or lack there of, of the bus seat.
I had found his address in the back one of mom's desks, it had seemed like nothing then but when the chance of my Mom, step-dad and half brothers and sister I called my family being gone long enough and a cheap bus leaving I took my chances and left, hoping he still lived there and that maybe he didn't hate me and maybe he wanted to see me.
Before this I had never really thought about him, and there was no reason to think about him.
There was no reason to think about running away to meet him, there was no reason to think about what color his eyes and hair are, there was no reason to think about what kind of dad he would be if he was around.
There was no reason to think about if he loved me or not.
I never worried about rejection from my father or him not loving me, just because of the fact that I never thought I would meet him.
This was the most frightening feeling I had ever felt, the simple fear of being rejected by someone I didn't even know and I knew that there was every chance that I would get there and find out that he absolutely hated me and never wanted to see me again.
Not knowing anything about him was the scariest feeling in the world right now.
I pull out a small piece of paper from my pocket and unfold the very creased edges to show the worn pencil written address.
This small piece of paper was the only thing I had of him.
I had memorized the address and there was really no reason for me to have it written down on paper any more, but the feeling of having it there with me in my hand to look at was much better that having every number and letter in perfect sequence embedded into my brain.
Once again I find myself looking at my watch, I was really going to have to tell Grandma thank you.
This time I found exactly twenty-five minutes and fifty-eight seconds, fifty-seven, fifty-six.
Counting back seconds really isn't that fun, and is really not what I want to do for the next twenty-five minutes.
But then again thinking about all the things that could go wrong isn't really what I want to do for the next; I look down at my watch, twenty-four minutes either.
I fold the paper back up and slide it back into my pocket, safe where no one can take it.
I had dropped it at school once back when I had just found it, and some other kid had picked it up, threatening to tare it in half. I had been so scarred that he would rip it and I would loose my only possible contact to my father I had punched him in the stomach, really hard.
I got a day of suspension and a month of being grounded, but knowing that I had that small piece of paper right now made it worth the punishment.
I can't help but look down at my watch again, twenty-two minutes to go; I thought time moved faster when you talk to yourself.
I really should be working on a report right now on how someone did something to save someone else, but that’s writing and I hate writing.
I've never had a diary or a journal, not sure that there's a difference, never written a story or a good report.
I'm more of the type to just talk, tell you what's on my mind and if your not listening, then I'll tell you anyway.
That was the first of the only two things my mother had told me about his personality, that I had a motor mouth like his.
That I talked just as much as I walked every day, and that he was the exact same way.
The second was when she was mad at me one time, she told me 'You can make me mad just as easily as your father could', and every once and a while I hold pleasure in making her so mad it makes her go back a generation to show me how displeased she is with me.
I lay my head back and close my eyes, just for a minute, just long enough to resist the yawn begging my mouth to open.
Opening my eyes back up I look around the bus, there's a couple in front of me in there late twenties, a woman with three kids three rows in front of me, an older man across the isle, an elderly woman behind me, with countless others scattered around the bus.
I felt safe around the bus people, with the warm, loving mother a few rows off, the a sweet couple in front of me, and the nice older woman behind me I almost felt as safe as being at home.
But I'm sure the fact of having a pocketknife in my back pocket had nothing to do with my security, or the pepper spray in the front of my bag.
I lay my head back down closing my eyes again, this time not opening them back up, just resting for a while.
It's no surprise to me that the next thing I know someone's taping on my shoulder telling me to wake up.
A/N: I would have posted this sooner if I had been able to log in, but I can now so here you go. And I got to go see all these lights on my church's short bus (that is a fun short bus) and got a ton of inspiration from feeling all Christmassy. Hopefully the next chapter wont take so long (even though I haven't even started it). Hey if you want to you can give me ideas cause I need some. Lots of love, nikki.
"Hello," he answered as he looked at me standing at his doorstep.
"Hi," I know I must look nervous and scared, I can hardly make my mouth say the things it needs to, "Are you Anthony DiNozzo?" I ask him, my voice shaking as I say his name.
"Yes, what can I help you with?" he says and I can tell he's a little nervous from my shaky voice.
"Um, my name is April Michelle DiNozzo, and well I'm your daughter." I say and I can see his face change from happy, not a care in the world to confusion and being just as nervous as I am.
"Ok," is all he says and don't know what to do next.
I don't know if I'm suppose to start crying and give him a hug and make it a picture perfect moment, or if I'm just suppose to stand here and wait for him to do something, or if I should just pinch myself now and wake up from this dream I must be having.
So I just be honest and tell him what’s on my mind, "It's kind of cold out here, and it's snowing and stuff."
"Yeah, come on in," he says as he moves to the side of the door and lets me in.
I walk into the warmth of the small house slowly; taking in everything I see and hear.
"So," I hear him say as he closes the door and turns to me, "Where's your mom at?" he asks me.
I don't really want to tell him the truth, knowing he might just send me back home if he knows I ran away, "In-laws. Her, my step-dad, two step-brothers, and step-sister all went to New York for Christmas."
"Does she know where you are?"
"Yeah," that part was biggest lie I had ever told, she had no idea where I was and as long as I followed the schedule I had laid out she would never know where I had been.
"How'd you get down here then?" I guess he was trying to start a conversation, but was just as nervous as I was.
"Bus, and a cab." not being able to talk was an understatement, I could hardly move my mouth and stand, let alone do the two at the same time.
"So how old are you now, thirteen?"
I hated answering questions about my age, people always found it strange that my mother was little more than twice my age.
"Fourteen, but only since April 24," I tried to sound as young as I could, hoping that in some way in his eye's he could see me as his daughter.
"Yeah, I remember your birthday because your mother was insistent on naming you after the month you were born in," A small smile appeared on his face, "I remember asking her if you were born in February or March if she would actually name you that, her answer was 'I have a one out of twelve chance of getting the name I want, and I bet you twenty bucks I'll have her in April, if I have to have some kind of surgery done...'"
"My daughter will be born in April." I say with him as we both laugh at the story my mother had told me.
The smile that had once been small and just an after thought was now big and spread across half his face, I had definitely got my smile from him.
"The day you were born I lost twenty dollars off that bet." he looked down at me, the few minutes he had took to tell that story had brought us together, but those moments were over and we both found nothing to keep the same laughing and happy conversation to stay.
The silence was uncomfortable and I could tell he was very nervous as I stood there in front of him.
"How’s your mother doing?" I heard him ask me, and the thought of just talking about my mother was just as bad as not talking at all.
"Good, married a doctor with a good job, had some "real" kids, and now she works as a third grade teacher." I hated to refer to my stepsiblings as her "real" children, but they are, the children she wanted, the ones she treats as her own flesh and blood.
"A doctor thought she was more of a computer geek type."
"Guess not, she married some guy she knew from high school, Kevin Powers." I saw a little jealousy flash through his face as I said Powers.
"She married Kevin Powers, the math teacher's son." the second I heard him say 'the math teacher’s son' I knew just how "Grandma" had helped mom get a good teaching job.
We were both laughing again, I liked it when we were laughing, everything felt ok and there wasn't a strange silence between us. But as are laughter fades the strange silence comes back.
I finally take the time to look at him; he has thick, brown hair, and green eyes, both I had gotten from him. He looked strong, like he worked out a lot, he was tall, at least 6'2'', that had been passed down to me to, my mom was only 5'6" and I was 5'7" so I had guessed he would be tall.
I look around his house, most of its pretty open the living room off to my left, the kitchen extending off of the living room, and the dinning room connected to the kitchen diagonal to the living room. There was a hallway between the living room and kitchen leading to what looked like the bedrooms.
"Are you hungry?" I hear him ask as finish my look around him home.
"Not really, I ate at, well at two," I answered his question, I didn't want him to have to fix me something, but I was really hungry.
"I'll take that as a yes." he said as he walked into the kitchen. I didn't really know what to do next, so I just followed him into the kitchen, sitting on a stool by the counter.
He opened his refrigerator, "Well, I have...um...cheese...um..." he kneeled down and started to dig through the take-out boxes filling the inside of the refrigerator. I hear him mumble, "What is that", and I'm slowly losing my appetite. He stands back up and opens the freezer door, "Here we go, pizza, everybody loves pizza." he said as he held up a frozen pizza box.
"Pizza! I love pizza," I say as he shows me the box, and after the outburst I want to suck all my words back up and make it sound more behaved.
"Either they don't feed you or you really like pizza," he says as he puts it on a cookie sheet and puts it the oven.
"Well," I try to sound behaved this time, "Mom is on this whole eat healthy with no meat thing, so I haven't eaten meat or pizza in about three months."
"Healthy eating, sounds like Kate." When he says that I get really curious about who Kate is.
"Oh, I work with her. She's really into healthy food and eating good."
"So, what do you do for a living?" I ask him; curious to know if he's with one of the agencies the cab driver had talked about.
"NCIS, its Naval..." I stopped him in the middle of his sentence.
"...Criminal Investigative Service," I could tell it was different for someone to know what NCIS stood for.
"How'd you know that?" he asked me as he pulled up a stool on the other side of the counter.
"Cab driver told me, he said a lot of FBI, CIA and stuff live down in this area, when he mentioned NCIS I asked him what it stood for." I answered.
"Smart cab driver, most people don't have any idea what NCIS is or what we do."
"Navy cops that investigate murders." I say, remembering what the cab driver had said.
"More cab info?"
"Yeah, so do you just go around finding dead bodies and finding who killed them?"
"Close enough, but we just do Navy personnel murders."
"So Kate goes and helps you find murders?"
"Yep, her and Gibbs, my boss, and McGee, the newbie. Then we have Abby in the lab running finger prints and blood samples, and then Ducky does autopsy."
I tried to remember all their names, Kate, Gibbs, McGee, Abby, and Ducky. "Are you working on any cases right now?"
"No, if we were Gibbs would make us work all night until we found the murder."
"Ha, he's worse than tough, try hard as a rock."
As he finished his sentence, the buzzer for the oven started to ring. He stood up and took the pizza from the oven, setting it down on the counter in front of me. He cut the pizza and took out some plates and drinks.
"Looks good," I say as he sets the plates on the counter.
"Hope it is, I haven't eaten since lunch either." he says as he cuts the pizza into eight slices.
I take a large slice and put it on my plate, smelling the hot meat and cheese "It sure does smells good."
"It does." he says as he also takes a large slice of the pizza.
I take a bite of the pizza; despite the hot that burned my tongue it tasted better than anything I had ever had. "It tastes just as good as it smells."
Talking was at a minimal as we ate, I was hungry and could tell he was to. The only things that really came up in are light conversation was if I was good in school or if I was into any sports. As we did occasionally talk it was a nice feeling, not pressured or uncomfortable, just questions asked back and forth to get to know each other better.
As we finished off the last of the pizza I couldn't help but yawn. The time had gone by fast, when we had started talking it was only around ten, but now it was after twelve and I was getting more and more sleepy as it grew later and later.
"You look sleepy, I guess we should get to bed soon." he said as he saw me yawn again.
"Really," I yawned again, "I'm not that sleep at all," yeah that was a lie, but I really didn't want the nice feeling I had around him to disappear.
"Yeah, you don't look at all tired." he said sarcastically. "Now really, you need to get some sleep. I have work for two more days till I get off for Christmas, and I'm going to have to take you with me."
"You can leave me here by myself," I say as I hop off of the stool and walk over to the door to get my bag.
"Yeah, I could leave you here, but I don't know what I'd come home to. I really don't know what you would do if I wasn't here to stop you from burning down the house, I can hear it now 'Were really sorry Mr. DiNozzo, but your house was burned down today.’”
"Guess I'll get to meet all the people you work with then?" I ask, the slightest hint of mischief in my voice.
"No jokes, unless it's Kate. No freaking anyone out, unless it's McGee. And don't touch Gibbs' coffee."
"So," I say as I follow him to the guest bedroom, "Lots of jokes, freak people out, and spill Gibbs' coffee."
"Right." he says as he opens the door to the room and flips the light on.
"Nice room," I say as I walk in and set my bag down on the floor.
"Your grandmother did it, she has this thing about decorating my house."
"Really, it's really nice." I say, sitting down on the bed and bouncing on it a few times.
"I guess I'll see you in the morning then." he says from the door.
"Yeah, I guess so," I say as I take my pajamas out of my bag.
"Well, good night."
"Good night," I say as he leaves the room and shuts the door.
It only takes me a minute to change, and before long I'm in the bed realizing how tired I am.
I lay there for a minute, just thinking about the day. It had been long, but one of the best of my life. For the first time in my life I had felt at home.
For the first time I wasn't a mistake, I was a daughter, I was his daughter.
A/N: I’m so very sorry that this chapter is so short, I’ve been really sick all week long and haven’t been able to work on this till late last night. If I can I’ll post another short chapter some time during the week, but I should have a full chapter next week.
Were in the car, on our way to the NCIS building. We haven't really talked all morning with the exception of the wake-up call at six. I hated the silence that lingered between us, the cold sound of nothing in the air around us. I longed for the fun natured, happy conversation we had had the night before.
"Tony?" I had called him Tony all last night; dad just didn't seem to fit him.
"Yeah?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Can we listen to some music or something?" I really didn't like the silence and music would help.
"Sure," he said as he flipped the radio on to a station playing Christmas music.
The soft music didn't help the silence, as much as I'd hoped it would, but was better than nothing at all.
I look out my window, the snow just starting to fall, listening to 'I'm dreaming of a white Christmas' as we drive.
I always seemed to be looking out windows, just watching the scenery go by. I knew I shouldn't have gone to bed last night; everything would have been fine if we had just kept talking all night long.
"Where here," I here him tell me and it pulls me out of my thoughts and back into the real world and I nod in acknowledgement of his words as I get out of the car.
"Is NCIS ready to fight a war with there canons?" I ask as we walk by the large canons in front of the building.
"To be honest, I have no idea what the canons are for." he says as we walk through the doors leading into the main lobby of the building.
"Tony," I here a voice from behind us call out as we walked farther into the lobby "She'll need a pass."
I turn to see a security guard walk up to us and hand me a pass clearly marked 'visitor'.
"Thank you," I say as I clip the pass to my sweater.
"And Tony, Abby has been looking for you." the guard said just as we walked onto the elevator.
"Abby," I try to remember what he had told me she did, "The girl in the lab that does fingerprints and runs blood tests, right?"
"Yep." he answered simply as he pressed the button to the second floor.