Hey, guess what: this isn't the first NCIS fanfiction I've ever written, but it's the first that's ever been completed. I don't have an update schedule quite yet, and I was hoping to get your opinion on that. I can do monthly, weekly, or daily; it's up to you.

I also want to thank my sister-from-another-mother, Danielle, for being both the model for any sappy shit that goes on in this story, the title, and for helping me to whip it out in record time. There might be a few hiccups along the way as, despite being an excellent continuity editor and great suggestor of plot lines, Danielle is not the greatest with the spelling and grammar, but it happens, right?

Reviews are loved, flamers will be deleted on sight and I will not stoop to the level of even mentioning them.

It's cost me a story before.

Chapter One- Homecoming

Everyone had gathered at Gibbs's place, for once. It was a team Christmas celebration, with potluck food and plenty of stories and presents to pass around. It had been a tradition Ducky had started shortly after his mother had died, when he was loathe to spend Christmas alone. This was the boss-man's first year as a host, however, and the decorations were a little sparser than usual. Jackson Gibbs had come over, and, despite the lack of decorations, everything was as good as it could ever be. There were no complaints, and plenty of laughs.

"Present time?" Ziva asked, a smile on her face.

"You first," Tony replied.

She shot him a glare and then opened her large bag. From within it, she pulled a book shaped package that was handed to Palmer; a box that, when handed to Tony, shook with the sound of DVDs; another two book shaped packages for both Jackson and Jethro; a small black bag for Abby; a CD sized package for McGee; and an oddly shaped package for Ducky. Just as Gibbs was getting ready to pass out his packages, the front door burst open.

She stumbled in, snow melting in her hair to give her a disheveled look. Her lips and fingertips were blue, and she was dressed only in a t-shirt and shorts that were almost entirely hidden beneath the shirt. Her over-long, cartoon blue hair seemed to make her look even colder, and, despite no one knowing who this girl was save the owner of the house and his father, everyone grabbed whatever was nearest that could be thrown over the freezing girl as she collapsed on the rug in the foyer. Gibbs raced to her side as the others looked for blankets and coats; anything to get her warm. The boss-man slid to a stop beside her, enfolding the girl in his arms as his team came into the room hot on his heels, blankets and coats at the ready.

They covered the both of them.

In a team effort, they were able to get both Jethro and the girl into the living room in front of the fireplace, where they collapsed on the couch, the girl breathing heavily.

"Where's your inhaler?" Jethro asked softly.

"I-I-In m-m-my c-c-c-c-c-car," she replied. "T-t-t-two blocks n-n-n-north of here."

Tony walked back into the foyer and looked out at the porch. The keys had fallen by the steps.

"I got it!" he called back, and was out the door.

"You walked two blocks in clothes you'd wear at the beach in LA? Girl, you haven't gotten any smarter where the weather's concerned," Jack said good-naturedly, but there was concern written all over his face.

"T-Thanks, Uncle Jack. I needed that," she replied with a shaky smile.

"What are you doing here, Cassie?" Gibbs asked finally.

The signature Gibbs-stare was obviously a part of this girl's repertoire, but it seemed sharper and more dangerous when it was given from eyes as green as a turbulent sea. The dark glare that she leveled the man who was giving her his body heat with would have leveled the Great Pyramid of Khufu, had she chosen it for a target. However, the look was met and returned, and, although she could clearly have glared anyone else into submission, she was not the master. After a moment, she backed down. She laid her head on his chest and snuggled closer, closing her eyes in the process. The story she would have to tell would be easier if she didn't have to look at him to speak. After all, she was the shrink; she should have known.

"He… He never hit me until a week ago," she whispered. "I don't… remember who said what; all I know is that we were both pretty drunk. Some things were said that shouldn't have been said, and the situation got out of hand pretty quickly. I… I don't know if I said something, or if he said something and I just reacted badly, but… the next thing I know… he's on top of me… beating the hell out of me."

Ducky leaned forward, and, in the soft firelight, he could make out the slowly yellowing bruises that corroborated her story, and told him that she needed to have some x-rays done.

"He stopped… I don't know how much later… and… he fell asleep on the couch. I… I called the local LEOs, and filed a statement and everything, and they picked him up. But… he made bail."

"So you left," Gibbs said, and he began to card his fingers through the Cassie's hair.

"Yeah. I… I stopped at the store, to see Uncle Jack… but they told me he came here," she said softly. "I… I don't want to-"

Gibbs shushed her, but it was a moot point; at that moment, Tony burst back through the door with the inhaler and her keys.

"I brought it," he said softly, "And I moved your car closer."

Gibbs took the inhaler from Tony and went to hand it to the girl, but his father stilled his hand. The thirty-second lull had been all she needed; Cassie had gone to sleep.

"Who is this girl?" Ziva asked finally, albeit softly.

"This is Cassandra Adriana Gibbs," Jack answered quietly. "She's my brother's granddaughter."

"My second cousin," Jethro added.

"She's the baby of the family," his father continued. "A well-respected screen writer in Hollywood, or so I'm told. She's been dating the same guy for years; longer than Jethro's been single, if you can believe that."

He gave his father a glare, but the older man continued.

"Sounds like that relationship has turned a little sour," Ducky said absently. He was already examining the visible areas of Cassie's skin for more bruises and marks, concern written deeply on his face.

"I imagine so, Duck," Jethro replied, but Tony could practically see the murder in his eyes.

"The boy's gonna get his just deserts, Jethro, don't you worry," Jack said darkly. "Whether he gets it from the law or from Cassie's father is another story."

"When David finds out about this, he's going to want leave to come kill the bastard," the younger Gibbs replied. "But it isn't him I'd be worried about right now. If Diabella finds out, he'll have to worry about getting his balls chopped off."

"I'm guessing Diabella is her mother and David is her father," Tony surmised hesitantly.

Jethro nodded, ignoring both the urge to headslap his Senior Field Agent and the desire to correct him on the subject of Cassie's father. That would involve moving and more discussion than it was worth, and he had held a sleeping Cassie at enough stages of her life to know she slept light. The fact that she hadn't woken up because of the conversation yet spoke to how exhausted she was.

"Do you think she drove straight through?" McGee asked softly.

"I don't think. I know," Gibbs replied, continuing to card his fingers through her hair. "She probably only ever stopped for gas, food, and caffeine, and even the food is a stretch."

"Sounds like she gets her stubbornness from you," Ziva offered. "How old is she?"

"Twenty-seven," Jack said softly, "And I imagine she got a lot of things from Jethro. He practically raised her."

Everyone turned surprised glances at the boss-man.

He sighed, glared at his father, and then turned to his team. "Both her parents are military, have been for a long time. They're also divorced. A lot of times, they ended up deployed at the same time, and so she ended up with me. When she was five, she… ended up staying with me permanently. Kelly was a year older than her, and they were as close as sisters. Shannon was more than willing to take care of her."

"And… when they died?"

"She was at Bethesda after a severe asthma attack in class, when the NIS agents tried to take her to the safe house," Gibbs said hesitantly. "One of them was wearing cologne that triggered it. Despite the fact that he could have killed her, he saved her life as well."

As if in reaction to the topic, Cassie burrowed further into Jethro's arms, the only sign of stirring that she had issued.

"She stayed with me for a while afterward, until she graduated in '99."

"That would have made her fourteen," Ducky observed.

"She's always been highly intelligent, and very driven," Jack offered. "As I understand it, she was offered a dean's scholarship to Harvard Med."

"Dear me, she's a doctor?"

"Criminal Psychiatrist. She's gotten four years of fieldwork, but she decided to leave for LA last year; took her boyfriend with her. I never found out why," Gibbs replied.

"I'll show you the case file. Then you'll understand," Cassie groaned, sitting up gingerly. "If you're going to talk about me, I'm going to leave so I can sleep."

"Where are you going to stay?" Gibbs said, grabbing her arm gently.

"Well, the plan was to sleep in my car, and then see if Hotch will let me have my job back, but I got here and it was snowing," she said sheepishly. "So, I was hoping I could stay in my old room… if it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all. It's yours as long as you need it. "

Gibbs was awoken the next morning by the sound of dishes being done, and a slightly heated conversation coming from the kitchen. He rolled off the couch and headed into the room the offending sounds were issuing from, a smile growing on his face at the sight of Cassie, ever the multitalented girl she was in high school. Bacon was popping on the stove, coffee was bubbling away in the coffee maker, and she was throwing various dishes from the night before into the drainer at record speed, all while talking on the phone.

"I know what I said, Hotch, but things changed. I… No, it's not really your business-… Fine, he hit me, alright?... No, it's never happened before… I promise, it hasn't… Yes I filed charges, but he made bail. I split… I'm staying at my d… at my cousin's house… I know he'll be thrilled. I was the only human being on the planet who understands him, remember?"

She hung up without a good bye, and set the phone on the counter. She placed one more spoon in the dish rack and then drained the sink before drying her hands on the dishtowel and turning toward the stove. She didn't even flinch when her eyes caught him in the doorway. Even after thirteen years of absence, she was too used to him appearing out of nowhere to question it any longer. Instead, she smiled at him and then turned the bacon quickly. In her usual morning rhythm, she cracked two eggs into an already hot pan and began to fry them, pulling two plates out of the cupboard as she did so.

It was familiar, and it made him realize how much he had missed her presence in his life. Granted, when she walked out of it again, he would be able to cope, knowing that she wasn't walking out of it entirely, but that didn't change the fact that he missed walking down the stairs in the mornings to the fourteen year old who was cooking breakfast and discussing quantum theory with her chemistry teacher on the phone.

"So, is he going to give you your job back?" Gibbs asked as he pulled down a pair of cups from above the sink and moved to the coffee maker. "Still black with too much sugar, right?"

"Right, and yes," she said, flipping the eggs. "Over easy or well done?"

"Just right."

Although he couldn't see it, she smiled. "You got the day off, given that it's Christmas morning?"

"I do, but I'm on call."

Cassie nodded. "Good."

"Why?"

"It's a surprise."

Jack came down the stairs carefully, and he rounded the corner with equal care. When he saw the breakfast fixings already in place, he sighed; the last few days, he'd been fixing breakfast. Of course, every time Cassie slept over at Jethro's, breakfast was part of the package.

Before he could even get a cup of coffee, she had turned to him.

"Scrambled, fried, or poached?" she asked.

"Fried, if you don't mind. Two would be lovely."

She smiled and cracked two more eggs into the pan. As they started to fry, she slid the bacon out of the other pan and onto a plate covered with paper towels. Gently, she patted off the grease and began to dish out the bacon.

"Toast?" she tossed over her shoulder.

"Two," they answered in unison.

Cassie pulled down the loaf of bread and popped four pieces into the toaster.

When all of breakfast was finally ready and served, they sat down together at the little-used kitchen table and ate in relative silence. The first words spoken at the breakfast table were also the last; compliments from Jack to Cassie about a meal well cooked. She smiled and gathered the dishes, taking them to the sink in silence. After she started running the water, Jethro moved her to the side, and started to do the dishes, another old routine that he had never been able to shake when she came around.

Cassie smiled and headed upstairs to her room in silence.

"How long do you think she'll stay this time?" Jack asked.

"Dunno," he replied, rinsing the plates and putting them into the dish rack.

"How long will you let her stay?"

"As long as she needs."

Not long after she disappeared back upstairs, Cassie returned to the kitchen fully dressed, and pocketed her phone.

"I've got some… arrangements that need to be made and apartment hunting to do. Wanna come along?" she asked.

Jethro nodded, but Jack shook his head.

"I think these old bones will hang out here. It's a long flight back tonight."

Cassie leaned in to hug her uncle, and then grabbed her keys off the counter.

"Don't you have a coat?" Jethro asked.

"N-No," she said, turning to look at him. "I threw it out when I went to LA."

Sighing, he opened up the closet and pulled one of her old jackets out. He handed it to her, and she smiled up at him.

"Some things never change," she said with a soft laugh.