In a small holding area for a bigger office, Chloe Lessing waited, trying not to watch the secretary as she worked. The two women were both petite, both brunette. The secretary's hair was closer to espresso, and Chloe's was a chestnut shade, long enough to tickle her shoulders. That was the first thing her parents did when she came back from England, after taking her to a doctor and a psychologist: they made her get her hair cut. Now, the tickle of the strands on her neck and collarbone reminded her of decisions she should regret, complicated choices that still haunted her.

The secretary told Chloe that the Director would see her now, and Chloe nodded, going through to the office she'd been staring at, feeling her hands being to sweat.

Her mother had told her over and over that it was time to get back to work, to find something to occupy her time now that the therapist had cleared her. Chloe didn't feel completely ready, but when her best friend told her there was an opening at NCIS, one where she could work with her two closest, oldest friends, Chloe had filled out an application. She hadn't really expected to be given an interview, but here she was.

Director Tom Morrow stood, shook her hand, greeted her warmly. He was a kindly man, older, but with an assured posture and firm handshake. She brushed a strand of her chestnut hair out of her face as she shook he gestured for her to sit. Chloe knew he was acquainted with her mother, and she hoped she'd not been given an interview on that alone.

"Does the Director usually conduct the interviews?" she asked, sitting across from him at a small table.

"For this position, yes," he said, pressing his hand to the table. "First ever External Liaison. You understand the need for such a position, of course."

Chloe nodded. After 9-11, pressure was on the different levels of alphabet soup to get along, not that their long histories of isolationism made it any easier. She had seen how…difficult that could be, firsthand.

"You are uniquely qualified," he continued, setting down his pen. "Your family notwithstanding, you've worked in another agency, worked in conjunction of several agencies, and you have a wealth of contacts across the board. And you come highly recommended from my Internal Liaison, and you and Nate will have to work together quite a bit."

Chloe licked her lips and felt the back of her neck burn. She could work with Nathan Wells just fine, but she hoped their former relationship didn't become office gossip.

"I'd be prepared to sign you on right here and now," he said, still smiling, "but what I want from you is assurance that what you're signing up for is something you're willing and able to do."

She picked up the description that he pushed toward her, the precursor to the contract she would sign. The job was largely a desk job, although when necessary she would be expected to partake of crime scenes, interviews, and arrests as needed. The one thing that made her hesitate, however….

"A stipulation," she said softly. "No deep cover jobs."

His eyes softened, almost to pity, and she knew he knew. How much he knew was another story, but he knew enough about her time in England to understand her hesitation, and yet he was still hiring her.

"Of course," he said. "You are…."

"I'm fine," she said, not exactly lying. "I am, but I…need to know it's not going to be like that again. Quick cover ops is one thing, but deep cover is…"

He nodded, and pulled out the paperwork on the spot for her to sign. Chloe let out a sigh of relief, couched in a small laugh, and she took the pen he held her, signing the paperwork. She asked when he wanted her to start, and he said she could get acquainted with the job right away, if it suited her.

He walked her out of his office, up a corridor to where two desks inhabited an office. One was clearly hers – devoid of character or paperwork – and the other must be Nathan's, with a large stack of files in the inbox and a few photographs. She picked one up and was startled to see that it was one they'd taken at Princeton, with his arm around her, kissing her cheek as she smiled at the camera. She quickly replaced the frame and put her purse in the desk, ready for a tour of the building.

They were about to go out again when someone burst into the room, a stern-looking, gray-haired man with piercing blue eyes and a frown. He looked at Chloe for a moment with mild recognition. His eyes darted to the desk and back to her, questioning.

"Gibbs, meet our new External Liaison," the Director said, still grinning. "Chloe Lessing, Probationary Agent. Chloe, this is Agent Gibbs."

She held out her hand and he looked at it for a moment before finally taking it and shaking it. His hand was warm and his grip was firm. Workman's hands, she thought, feeling the roughness of callouses. When he pulled his hand away, her palm felt cold.

"Have you seen Wells?" Gibbs asked, still looking at her, but clearly addressing the Director.

"Not since the parking lot this morning. Need him?"

"Need his signature."

"Leave it on his desk. If I see him, I'll let him know. Unless it's urgent?"

"By the end of the day," Gibbs said, setting a file folder down on Nathan's desk. He left the room without another word, and Chloe cleared her throat, following the Director out of the corridor, down to the staircase.

Once they were in an elevator down to the basement, Chloe said, "Agent Gibbs is very…abrupt."

"It's his way," the Director said, smiling. "Gibbs is brilliant, but he takes some getting used to. There's no one better."

The elevator doors opened, and he led the way to autopsy, where an elderly man was taking off his gloves and setting them in the trash can.

"Doctor Mallard," the Director said, still smiling. The man looked up, his glasses resting on his nose in a very professorly way. "This is Chloe Lessing, our new External Liaison."

"Ah, yes," the man said, smiling, so kindly and warm compared with Agent Gibbs. "A pleasure. Abby mentioned that you were coming in for an interview today. I take it the interview was successful."

"Yes, thank you," she said, shaking his hand and glancing at the body on the table before looking back to him. "I look forward to working with you."

"And I with you," she said smiling, "although…"

She gestured to the body on the table and he nodded knowingly, looking down at the poor soul he'd just autopsied.

"It's never pleasant with bodies involved, true," he said. "Well, Gerald is helping Nathan in the evidence garage, so I'm afraid you've met all there is to meet here. I'm sure Abby will be happy to see you."

Chloe thanked him and followed the director out. He led her back into the elevator and said, "Just so you know, Doctor Mallard talks to bodies."

"There are stranger things," she said with a fond smile. In truth, she was only half-listening, as the elevator sounded their arrival and the doors opened. They walked into the only readily available room, although she could see a corridor that led down to a garage. Chloe knew which office had to be Abby's anyway, from the persistent and high-volume music emanating from the room in question. Abby and Chloe never shared a taste in music, but they respected each other's selections.

She crept into the room, seeing Abby from the back in shorts, a lab coat, pigtails, and a white dog collar. Chloe wrapped her arms around the waist of her much-taller friend, who squealed with delight, whipping around to join the hug.

"You're here!" Abby cried, squeezing Chloe's frame enthusiastically. "Hello, director. Chloe, you're here!"

"I've hired her," Director Morrow said, smiling as Chloe pulled back from the hug.

"You've got new tattoos," Chloe said, gesturing to the spider webs on the back of Abby's neck. "I like them."

"We have to get lunch," Abby said, excitedly. "You, me, Nate. You're right, by the way, he's super cool, very cute, like a puppy. He and I were already going to get Chinese. You have to come with."

Chloe agreed, but she couldn't stop thinking about the photograph Nathan had on his desk. What did it mean for him to display it like that, after all these years?

/-/

Leroy Jethro Gibbs did not see himself as a complicated man. He had simple goals, simple rules, simple expectations. One of those expectations was that he be informed in changes in his team – ideally that he could choose that team himself, and he caught Tom on the way to his car for lunch.

"I thought I was picking my team," he said to the Director.

"You are," Tom said, pulling his keys out of his pocket. "You just let me know when you're ready to fill those empty desks."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Gibbs said, stepping on front of Tom to keep him from walking to his car and driving away. "That Lessing woman. You hired her?"

"Today, yes," Tom said, his lips twitching with amusement. "She's not your team, Jethro, she's mine."

"I have to work with her."

"If your concern is that she's got the job because of her family—"

"Rule 12," Gibbs said, knowing that Tom knew his rules well enough to know this one. "You tell me that's not going to be a problem for her."

Tom hesitated, glancing back at the building for a moment before he leaned in and said, "Look, Jethro, if she dated a co-worker, it would be my business anyway. There's no NCIS policy against it, and I don't have a personal policy against it. From what Nate told me, they dated for a while at Princeton. She's dated since. And trust me, Jethro, she's not interested in relationships right now."

"And you know this because…?"

"Because of how she left the FBI."

Gibbs knew little about the circumstances of the incident, the particulars that had caused her to leave the agency. He did recall seeing the name Lessing, a federal agent, being held captive by terrorists. He could fill in the dots, he could ask Abby, or he could just confront Chloe Lessing about the matter. Depending on what actually happened, he might have to handle the matter with sensitivity beyond just confronting her.

"She's going to be here," Tom said, his expression saying plainly that he considered the matter closed. "Learn to work with her. I'm not asking you to like her."

/-/

Gibbs stepped into the elevator that afternoon with Chloe Lessing, and he didn't respond to her friendly, slightly-nervous greeting. Instead, he let the elevator go for a moment before he pressed the button to stop it, freezing them in mostly-darkness. It startled her, but she handled it with grace, which suggested she was used to dealing with surprises.

"Why did you leave the Bureau?" he asked, deciding to take advantage of the circumstances and be blunt.

The question didn't faze her, either, and she stared up at him. He realized how petite she was, and he wondered if it ever made it hard for her to do her job, if she couldn't be intimidating. But then, she was an attractive woman. Many men would be drawn in easily by that.

"They couldn't…promise me the terms I needed," she said.

"Which is?"

"No deep cover."

She'd been kidnaped while under deep cover, Gibbs knew. Something must have gone wrong, her identity must have been discovered, and an IRA cell held her captive for months before MI-6 and the CIA rescued her.

"How did FBI have an op in England?"

"They didn't," she said, looking slightly nauseous. "I was on non-negotiable loan to the CIA, liaised to MI-6. They scanned all agencies in three countries to find a match for the profile they needed, and they picked me. I didn't have a lot of options. But the Director kindly gave me a stipulation where I am not eligible for deep cover missions. So, it can't happen again."

Gibbs looked at her face, considering with a frown. She was small, but he wouldn't have thought her fragile. She seemed strong, not brittle. He might have picked her for a deep cover assignment as well, with an attractive but not exotic face, a frame small enough to be nonthreatening, and an ability to carry on conversation despite having the weaker hand.

"I know you dated Wells."

She smiled, humorlessly, and said, "A long time ago, Agent Gibbs. For about a year. It was never very serious. I dated his brother, after, with Nate's blessing. Rest assured, there will be no inappropriate workplace behavior. I just want to do my job, do something…meaningful."

He nodded, still not sure what to make of her. Then he thought of a good test, without having a more thorough one ready.

"If I put a paper in front of you and told you to sign before reading, that it was important, would you do it?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation, and his eyes narrowed again. Was she naïve? Was that why she'd been kidnapped?

"Why?"

"Because," she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Abby trusts you."

She pressed the button to start the elevator again, clearly convinced that this was all there was to say on the matter, and Gibbs had to agree.

Abby trusted Chloe Lessing, as well. They were best friends. So for the moment, he supposed he could trust her, too.

/-/

Chloe smiled at the knock on her door and she rushed to let in Nate to her apartment. He'd brought wine, and she didn't have the heart to tell him she didn't drink it anymore, so she gestured for him to put it on the counter, made a quick excuse why she didn't feel like drinking any now, and she invited him to join her over leftover pizza. They sat on her sofa and each grabbed a slice of cold pizza from the box – pepperoni and onion – and she relaxed as he put an arm around her waist letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

Nate was much taller than her, so that resting her head on his shoulder was more resting it on his upper arm. But his arms were strong for how thin they were, and he exuded a great deal of warmth. She knew his hair was soft as it was light, but she didn't raise a hand to touch it. She still wasn't sure why he kept that picture on his desk, and she didn't want to prove Agent Gibbs right and be a problem before she even began her job.

"It's good to share an office with you," he said, brightly. "It'll improve the look of the place."

"Yeah," she said. He took a bite of pizza and she tried to think of a reason why he would have a picture of her besides what might be the obvious. "I don't think Agent Gibbs likes me."

Nathan laughed and squeezed slightly.

"Gibbs doesn't take to people easily, Chloe. You earn his trust, but you will. I've never known anyone who managed to sweettalk as many people as you. Got the world eating out of your hand even as you walk all over them."

"You make me sound like a bitch."

"No," he said, smiling. "You're easily the sweetest person I've ever known. Except…except maybe Abby. She's unnatural."

Chloe laughed, knowing that Nathan and Abby had developed a keen respect for each other, so that he meant it in the best way possible.

"Our place was always open," she said. "I mean, honestly, who would try to rob us? Everybody loved us, and even if they didn't, Abby could track anybody. And everybody knew it."

He laughed again and said, "How did you even end up going to Louisiana for college, anyway?"

"We'd lived down there before," she said, frowning. "We went where my mom was posted. And I wanted to go away from where she was posted for a while, be somewhere that felt like home without parents looking over my shoulder. Plus, all my cousins were posted far, far away. It was like…a place that was my own."

"I'm just glad you came to Princeton, then," he said, leaning in closer. "And I'm glad you came to NCIS."

"Me too," she said, leaning back slightly. She frowned up at him. "Nate, we…we aren't a thing, are we?"

"What?" he said, laughing. "Chloe, we haven't dated in years. Why would you even ask a thing like that." She shrugged and he sighed. "Gibbs start spouting off about Rule 12, didn't he? Shouldn't have kept that picture on my desk. He notices and remembers everything. Good investigator. Look, Chloe, we're not a thing. And even if we were, he's not our boss. We're not subject to his rules."

She leaned back and frowned, picking a slice of pepperoni off her pizza and eating it slowly.

"That's not the point," Chloe said. "First rule to working with anybody, Nate, is you meet their expectations, always. This Gibbs isn't my boss, but he's my co-worker, and hopefully for a long time. You say that's rule number twelve. Start telling me the others. I'll meet them all."

"Well," he said, grinning, "number one is never screw over your partner. I…never remember number two. You ought to ask Tony about that one."

"Tony?"

"DiNozzo. You'll meet him tomorrow. Three…. Never be unreachable. Four is basically keep secrets to yourself or only tell one other person you trust. Five, don't waste good. Six…. Never say you're sorry; it's a sign of weakness. Seven: always be specific when you lie. Eight: Never take anything for granted. Nine is never go anywhere without a knife. Ten is never get personally involved in a case. Eleven: when the job is done, walk away. You know twelve."

"How many of these are there?" she asked, feeling nervous as she tried to keep them all straight.

He frowned and said, "Um, they go into the high sixties. I don't know all of them by heart. The higher numbers don't come up that often. Let's see…. Thirteen, never, ever involve lawyers. Fourteen is bend the line, don't break it. Fifteen, always work as a team…."

She sighed, eating her pizza and listened to him reciting rules, trying to keep them straight and making a note to start carrying her knife again – a habit she'd gotten out of after coming back stateside. If she was going to impress Gibbs and earn his trust, she had to start now.

A/N: So, this is my first NCIS fan fiction, so take it easy on me. The next chapter is Yankee White, which is a couple of months after this chapter, but I wanted to give a bit of set-up on the characters and their interactions/relationships before throwing you in the deep end.

Review Prompt: What do you think Chloe's NOT saying about her time in England?

Q&A: Please ask questions. I will answer at least one question per here.

Cheers

-C