*I DO NOT OWN NCIS. As much as I'd like to, NCIS would be much, much less exciting if I did. Trust me.

The Crime-

"We're moving again?" The twelve-year old girl asked, her small hand wrapped around a controller as she stared up at the large big screen, waiting for that zombie to come out at her and start attacking. "Should I start packing or something?" A large pair of large hands took the controller away from her, pressing the start button impatiently and pausing her game. "Hey!"

"That's enough video games, Ajay. You're supposed to go to school in an hour," A tall man said, heading over to the console and shutting it off. "And no, we're not moving until next month, since they're still trying to find us a place to stay."

"You mean the Navy?" Ajay asked as she got up from the tattered sofa, smoothing out her school uniform skirt. "I thought they weren't in charge of finding you a place to stay."

"They're not." The man replied. "Go get your hair tied up, okay? And eat breakfast. There are some pancakes on the stove." The man watched the girl swiftly walk towards her bathroom, closing the door behind her. He took a deep breath, wrapping the console's single controller up with its cord and setting it on top of the console. 'I'll have to hurry up and get only all the things that I need. We have to leave after Ajay gets back from school.' Running a hand through his short, red hair, the man looked around his small apartment, wondering to himself if his daughter was going to miss this place as much as he would, since there were so many memories. Even in just one room, there were so many things he could recall. Like last Christmas, when he had gotten his daughter a PS2 for her and she had given him a sketchbook, knowing that he liked to draw. He was planning her thirteenth birthday party, too; he was going to invite all of Ajay's friends and go to the movies and then the ice-skating rink nearby. 'She probably won't miss this place, since we move all the time.' Taking a deep breath, he picked up her white bag, staring at the black and blue skulls and roses on it, then setting it down by the front door.

"Hey, Dad, do you know where my keys are?" Ajay asked as she came out of the bathroom, her long, black hair braided neatly. "They're not in my bathroom."

"They're in your bag." The red-headed man replied, stopping her before she headed to her room. "Hey! Eat breakfast before you do anything." Ajay smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, okay." She headed into the kitchen and grabbed a plate of food, sitting down at the small, wooden table and eating quickly. Once she was done, she left the dish in the sink, promising to do the dishes after school as she headed into her room. She emerged ten minutes later carrying two books.

When Ajay got out of their car at the school bus stop, she turned around, waving goodbye to the red-headed man, smiling brightly. "Bye!" The red headed man smiled back and waved, parking his car in the spot as he watched her stand alone under a street-light as a group of girls giggled and whispered nearby, sometimes glancing at her. She had no real friends, from what he could tell, since they had moved a lot. The remorse he felt when he saw her take out a book and read was all the more overwhelming when he realized that it was all his fault.

The yellow bus came around the corner, stealing the kids at the bus stop away. The red-headed man went home.

When he arrived, he found a small box sitting at his front door. Looking around warily, he picked it up carefully, looking at the return address. There was none, however, so he debated whether or not he should open it. The only thing that was written on it was 'To You'. 'This isn't good.' He thought to himself, looking around to see if anybody was watching. He thought he heard a strangely familiar click, though he ignored it and placed the package in front of a neighbor's front step.

Quickly, he got inside his apartment, looking around. Nobody had broken in, it seemed like, though something was strangely off. "Hello?" He called. 'I've got to calm down. I can't be paranoid in this kind of situation.'

Later on, the old man next door heard a loud yell and looked out the window, hearing thumps and crashes in the apartment next door. What was going on? The man who lived next door was never this loud. Was something wrong? The old man kept watching , seeing the door open and a red-headed man walk out. Though the old man rarely saw his neighbor, he knew that he had red hair and would know his face anywhere, though the man who walked out the door did not turn around. The old man shrugged, thinking that maybe he was fixing something. As he kept watching, the red-headed man closed the door, though he didn't lock it. 'He's probably just going to get something from the mail.' The old man was right: the red-headed man did go to the mailboxes downstairs. But he didn't expect him to get into his old Cadillac and turn on the engine. Thinking twice about his actions, he walked out his door, leaning over the railing of the second floor and yelled, "You forgot to lock your door!"

His warning was the last sound before the red-headed man began to back out of the driveway. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and an explosion. The old man fell back, shouting.

----------------------------------

When the bus dropped Ajay off in front of the red-haired man's apartment, she was surprised to see a large fire-truck parked at the curb in front of her father's apartment. Immediately, she dropped her things in the middle of the road, a horrible twist in her gut. "Hey! What's going on?" There were paramedics on the scene, too, and three familiar neighbors speaking with the firefighters and police officers, though the red-headed man was nowhere in sight. Thinking that the worst had happened, she headed towards her nieghbors. 'Maybe they can tell me what's going on.' "Where's my dad?" She asked. One of the neighbors looked at her, then pointed at her, speaking urgently to the men in the police uniform. It was the old man who lived next door.

"That's her. That's the one the man lives with." Ajay let two police officers escort her to a nearby bench, sitting her down and looking at her in the eyes. She wondered what the hell was going on. Why was there a fire truck here? Why was there a burned car parked in the curb? Ajay waited for the police officers to speak, questions filling her mind.

"What's your name, miss?" One of the officers asked.

"Ajay Darling." Ajay replied in her straightforward, cool tone; in her mind, she could only think of the worst things. "What's going on here? Where's my dad? I don't see him anywhere…"

"Are you related to a Jacob Darling?" Ajay paused, thinking. Then, she shook her head. "But your last name is…?"

"He adopted me." Ajay replied. "Technically, we're not related." The girl paused, as if thinking about what she had said. Clearing her throat, she continued. "Is he okay? Is my dad okay?"

"Miss Darling," The other officer began, though he looked pained just to open his mouth. "I don't know how to say this." Taking a deep breath, the officer opened his mouth. "Your father was killed this morning when his car exploded."