Chapter 1

Debi Moore-Gibbs had a problem; she was in Los Angeles, California, supposed to be attending a conference for deaf and hard-of-hearing students, like herself. The weather was glorious, the hotel she was at was fabulous, and the company was good.

And she was bored silly.

Eric Armstrong, her boyfriend who was studying to be a police officer, was still in Washington, D.C., and so was her dad, Supervisory Agent Leroy Gibbs of NCIS, and her grandparents, Sharlee and Daniel Shemo of Kranz Bakery. Even her best friends, Fran Tucker and Abby Sciuto, were still there. In fact, the only one with her was Gibor, her Hearing Dog, a small Terrier-mix who went everywhere with her.

Gibbs was supposed to join her later for a surprise trip somewhere, but that was later. This was now.

And Dabi was bored.

And that was never a good thing.

Which is how she wound up going for a car ride with a tiny woman whom Dabi was sure only just reached the four foot mark. Despite her height and her age, Henrietta Lange, or Hetty as she preferred to be called, Dabi had a sneaking suspicion she could more than hold her own.

A quick text to Gibbs confirmed that Hetty was not only on the level, she was also with NCIS, specifically Office of Special Projects, or OSP. She was also the Operations Manager.

"She's as good as they get," Gibbs texted. "So are her people. Hetty thinks you'll like Deeks."

"Deeks?"

"I have no doubt you'll meet him. Abby liked him, called him a sweet puppy mutt."

"Is that an insult or a compliment?"

"This is Abby we're talking about."

"Good point."

Hetty was charming, Dabi decided as the sleek black car wove its way through L.A., with her speech being steady and pronounced. She even knew what Gibor and Dabi meant in Hebrew; hero and dearly loved.

"Your father mentioned you were in L.A. and had the unfortunate problem of being bored," Hetty said, seated in the back with her and Gibor.

"Yeah, but I'm not stupid enough to wander off by myself," said Dabi. "I know what can happen to girls like me."

"A wise idea, my dear. I understand you're familiar with the operations of NCIS?"

Dabi nodded. "After Dad found me, his team kind of adopted me. I don't know any dark or dirty little secrets, but I know what they do." She rubbed Gibor's ears, who had his head in her lap. "I know how to shoot, how to use a knife, how to fight, and how to spot trouble."

"Those are always good things to know. I will show you what we do at OSP and I will introduce you to my team. I do believe you'll find them interesting."

"Dad mentioned someone named Deeks? Said Abby liked him?"

"Ah, Mr. Marty Deeks. A bit of a skirt-chaser but a good man, and a good detective."

"So he's not an agent?"

"No, he's our liaison with the LAPD. I had hoped to convince him to become an agent."

"One day at a time."

"Indeed. Ah, here we are."

Inside:

"Hey Neil, where's Hetty?" Special Agent in Charge G. Callen asked Neil Jones, OSP's intelligence analyst.

"She went to pick up Agent Gibbs' daughter, who's apparently in town," Neil replied, stopping at his desk.

"Gibbs has a daughter?" Senior Field Agent Sam Hanna asked. "Since when?"

"Since apparently eighteen years ago," was the smooth reply.

By now Junior Field Agent Kensi Blye and her partner, Detective Marty Deeks, had joined them. "Well, what does she look like?" Kensi asked. She had worked with Gibbs before and he'd made no mention of a daughter, even though his file had stated a deceased daughter by the name of Kelly.

"C'mon, Neil, give," said Sam, when the young woman hesitated.

"She's pretty, with red hair," Neil admitted.

"Why does that not surprise me?" said Callen. "Gibbs always went for the girls with red hair."

"What else?" Kensi asked.

"What do you mean what else?" Neil asked innocently.

"Any time anyone comes our way, you always do the full run-down on them," said Kensi. "Give."

Neil hesitated, glancing at the others, who all looked at her pointedly.

"You're itching," said Deeks. "I can tell." Then he blinked. "Although that does bring to mind other kinds of itching."

"And your mind is in the gutter, as usual," said Kensi, glaring at him.

"Who said I was talking about that kind of itching?" he protested. "I could have been talking about the itchy-scratchy kind of itchy! Itchy sweater and all that!"

"Any way, Neil?" Sam asked, trying to head off the conversation before Deeks got Kensi's foot up his backside.

"Dabi Abria Moore-Gibbs, eighteen, five-eleven, mom was Amanda Moore, who died as a result of a drunk driver when Dabi was eleven, recently changed her surname to Moore-Gibbs, is attending Washington Community College, majoring in business management, and was the main witness in a murder investigation Gibbs investigated, twice," Neil rattled off.

"Twice?" Callen repeated, eyebrows going up.

"Once in Washington and once in Stillwater, Pennsylvania."

"Okay, and?" Sam asked.

"And wow!" said Deeks, eyes going wide as he spotted something past them.

Heads snapped around. Walking towards them was Hetty and a tall, pretty teenage girl with red hair in a pony tail. Wearing denim shorts, a bright racer-back crop top under a white semi-sheer scoopneck tank top with lower-cut armholes, and sneakers, with sunglasses perched on her head and a small purse slung across her chest, she looked like any typical teenage L.A. girl.

Then...

"The hearing dog, Neil?" Callen asked, referring to the little terrier dog in a bright orange jacket who trotted beside his mistress, ears up, tail wagging.

"She's deaf. Meningitis at six," Neil said.

"We are so in big trouble, especially if she's anything like Gibbs," said Kensi.

"Her high school records indicate she'd gotten into a few fights," Neil admitted.

"If anything happens to her while she's in L.A., Gibbs is going to give us a whole new meaning of the word 'trouble'," said Eric Beale, OSP's technical analyst, joining them. "I just spoke to Abby. Seems Gibbs didn't know about Dabi until last May. Think Papa Bear on steroids."

"We're in big trouble," said Callen.