A/N: Okay, I had a bit of the creative writer's block. Like you know what you want to happen but not how to write it? That. Anyway, I've FINALLY come up with the solution! Thanks again for the reviews. I love 'em!

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Travis sat there patiently, watching the NCIS Agents pack up. The body had already been covered, and put in the van. The boy's face was grim, and he looked a little sick. But he was leaning against the non-bodied van, watching Ziva put stuff up. "What are you staring at?" She asked, not looking up. He looked a little surprised. "I'm zoning out. You know, thinking?"

"What were you zooming out for?"

He looked a little confused, but let it slide. "My Da's dead. I have no clue who would try to kill him, much less at a paintball field. What do you think I'm zoning out on?" He snapped, brow furrowing. Ziva shut the box, picking it up, staring at him coldly. The boy's look softened. "I'm sorry…I'm a little upset if you couldn't tell." Putting the box in the back, she came back into few. "I don't blame you. It's a common way to deal with grief, channel your anger into something, or at someone…" He looked surprised. "Oh no! I'm really sorry! It's just…" He looked to the ground, crossing his arms. "My mum died last year, suspected murder. Case was how you say? Cold?" Ziva nodded, "I understand." He looked up. "You do?"

"No quite the same situation, but yes."

"Oh, you've probably seen it in the work place. I mean, working for NCIS. Dead marines and officers."

"I'm not attached to NCIS. Mossad."

Travis looked a little surprised. "You're Israeli." She nodded. "Good guess." He grinned. "Not a guess really. I-I go to someone; his dad's a minor Israeli oil guru. Me and my mates would get around and talk about, military and weapons and secret agents and stuff, you know, the things glorified in movies? He mentioned Mossad. That's it."

At the moment, Tony poked his head from the back. "Zee-va! Come on! Lunch! Probie's treat!" He noticed the boy was still there. "Haven't you contacted his next of kin already?" Travis shook his head. "That would be difficult, Agent DiNozzo. That would be a sickly uncle, in Cork." Tony looked at him. "Cork?"

"Ireland." He replied.

"Ah." He paused a moment. Staring at the boy and then Ziva. "Get in." she told him. "Really?" Travis asked. She nodded, opening the door.

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Jen was sitting in her chair, watching Gibbs stare at her from across the desk. "Are you interrogating me in my office?" Gibbs said nothing. "That old Gibbs stare doesn't work on me anymore, Jethro."

"If I stare long enough it will."

She sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Why didn't you tell me about her?"

"You don't need to know about every aspect of my personal life."

"I think having a kid stashed away somewhere is more than a little footnote on facts about your personal life."

"Like Shannon and Kelly?"

That hit something. Gibbs was silent. "Yes, I think that's fair, Jethro."

"That was different."

"Oh about what? The fact that they died, or we didn't go wrenching through my history to find something that would take me out of a coma?" Now it was becoming an argument. "Well, if you put it that way, Jen!" She crossed her arms. "Yes. I did. It was a stupid mistake and back then, there weren't any safe procedures like the ones available today. Yes, I admit, it was stupid, and foolish, but at the time, it seemed like a good idea to keep her hidden. Now, anything else, Agent Gibbs?" She put emphasis on the last words. He stood up, going for the door. "Yeah. I need to talk to her."

"Why?"

Opening the door, he leaned back. "Because she's one of the last few people that saw my dead marine alive."

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She'd gotten her things back, and was sitting outside with her bags. It would have been a smarter idea to keep them at the hotel room, but she'd revised that idea. Screw all of this; she was going back to school. Jay had already boarded to the nearest pay phone by means of a present from one of her friends, and off-roading skateboard. The cab would be there momentarily. So there she was, sitting with her back to the warming bricks of the NCIS Headquarters building. There was a scowl plastered on her face, along with deeply furrowed eyebrows.

"Fine, she can keep the damn letter. I don't care. It's probably some dumb jock-joke anyway, stupid football players.

She leaned her head back against the walls, sighing. The wind blew slightly, blowing her curly red hair into her face. Giving an aggravated sigh, she pulled out two scrunchies, loosely braiding pigtails into her hair. That fixed the wind. She grumbled, drumming her fingers on her board, which was in her lap. Wasn't that cab going to get here soon? America was so different. In England, everyone was too polite, proper, and on time.

The phone in her pocket, a relative cheap, but nice looking phone, began to ring, sounding out its usual tone for unknown numbers. "Who are You?" it gave her a small smile, as she flipped it out. "Shepard." She answered.

"Shep, it's Vimes."

"Scott, why didn't you just call me from your cell?"

"It's expensive to call overseas! This is collect by the way."

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "I'm in the states right now, so yeah thanks."

"When'd you get in?"

"Last night, stayed in a hotel. But I'm going back soon."

"When?"

"In a few minutes, if the stupid cab'll get here."

"Aw, without saying good-bye?"

"Sorry. It's kind of a rush job."

"Running away, I see. C'mon Shepard. You and I go way back. I haven't seen you in a year and a half, you owe me woman."

"Oh, the big player at the public boarding school, and king of the A-crowd wants to see little ol' me."

"Still haven't lost that charm, I see."

Her phone gave a small beep, announcing she had another call. "Gotta go Scott. I'll chat before I get on the plane."

She hung up, looking at the ID. "Director Mom" it read. She groaned, answering it. "What?" she asked bitter tone back in her voice. "Where are you? You can't just walk out like that."

"Oh? I just did. I'm leaving. You can keep the letter, I scanned it. Keep me secret will you? That's nice, real nice mom."

"Jayme! Wait a second, and listen to me-"

"Good-bye Madame Director."

She snapped the phone shut, giving it a little smirk. "That wasn't very nice." Said a voice, and the shadow of a person seemed to just appear. She looked up, mild shock on her face. "Agent Gibbs." She said, still frowning. He didn't say anything, but sat down next to her. She rolled her eyes, looking back at the road. "You want something, or is this a habit?" she asked, still not looking at him.

"Nope, just sitting."

"Riiiiiight." She replied sarcastically. He shrugged. "It's your choice whether to believe me or not."

"Does the opinion of someone who, until a shock awakening to some people AKA my MOTHER, doesn't exist matter?" He looked at her. "Well you seem to be there. And the other person to seems to think you're real." He motioned a phone.

She shrugged. "We go back some. That was before my mother decided I was embarrassing enough to hide in another country." She said.

Gibbs shrugged again, letting one foot lay flat. "I wouldn't say that. She cares, more than either one of you would like to admit." Jay cocked her head at him, looking at the senior agent sideways. "Can you now? What, can you see it in her eyes or something? That is SUCH a cliché!" She said, laughing sarcastically, and looking out at the street.

"Cliché or not, it's true."

"Yeah, and I'm sure the line 'Because I see it in your eyes' just impresses the ladies."

Gibbs laughed, nodding. "That it does." It took a moment, but Jay also smiled. "Hopeless Romantic." She told him. Gibbs shrugged, still grinning. "What can I say? Works every time."

The yellow cab drew nearer the building, and Jay got up, picking up her three bags, and stuffing her board under her arm. "I'm leaving." She said, as the cab drew even nearer. Gibbs got up as well, but said nothing. Jay sighed, shrugging. "I'd thought she'd might've been different. Well, she was, just not in the way I'd expected. She seems a little…Dunno, on edge?" Gibbs nodded. "Yes. That and obsessive." Jay shrugged. "Good ol' mum. I'm always in the background, in the setting. It didn't used to be like that, we were good chums. But then she joined NCIS, and work became everything." The cab stopped in front of her, taking a step, the girl stopped, turning around. "Why am I even spilling my guts out to you? I just met you! I don't normally do this by the way," She told him. He smiled slightly, saying nothing. "You're as good as any, not that mom's going to run out here, she's wearing heels and all... But, now would be the chance for you to convince me NOT to leave to country for another year or so."

Gibbs paused a moment, and whispered something in her ear. "Oh my god…really? Recently?" He nodded. She turned to the cab driver. "Sorry, I've got other business." And turned back to Gibbs. "Oh my god! Is Travis, that's his son, is he okay? He's not hurt is he?" She said, walking beside the agent. He took one of her bags, pressing the button for the elevator. "He's a little shaken but okay. Wise disicion to stay." She looked at him at the doors closed. "Like I had a choice." She replied. It was kind of harsh, but the corners of her mouth where turned up slightly.

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A/N: Well, that was rather interesting. A little difficult to write, and a little OOC, but it was the best I could do given the circumstances. A little darker moment…and more of the Gibbs charm on younger people! And who is this Vimes guy? And who does he sound a bit like? I love input, I write for ya'll so please, hit that little blue to purple button!