When the phone rang around six o'clock on Monday evening, Rachel Todd had her hands in a bowl of ground beef, preparing a meat loaf for supper. She grumbled at first, until she checked the caller ID box, and then she wiped her hands quickly on a dishrag and grabbed the handset. "Katie!"

"Hey, Mom!" her youngest daughter greeted her in an unusually whimsical tone. "What's shaking?"

"Well, it's six o'clock, Katie. What am I always doing at six o'clock?"

"Making dinner?" Kate hazarded.

"Very good! Gold star for you!"

"Yay for me," Kate replied, giggling. "Hey, what are you making?"

"Meat loaf," Rachel replied. "And mashed potatoes, and probably Brussels sprouts."

"Hey, can you fix green peas instead of Brussels sprouts? I hate Brussels sprouts."

"Of course I can," Rachel replied automatically, and then stopped herself. "Why do you care what vegetable I serve with supper tonight?"

Kate's giggles became even more pronounced. "Look out the window, Mom."

Rachel turned, suspicion dawning in her mind, and squealed in excitement when she saw Kate peering in the window, grinning back at her. She hung up the phone immediately and hurried around the counter to unlock the back door. "You naughty thing, sneaking up on me like that!" Rachel exclaimed, drawing Kate into a bear hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Gibbs gave me mandatory vacation time after he caught Davenport," Kate reported, "and he told Tim to make sure I took it. So I conned Tim into driving me out here." She stepped to the side, took Tim's hand, and drew him in off the back stoop. "Mom, this is Tim McGee. Tim, this is my mom, Rachel."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Todd." Tim held out his hand.

Rachel Todd, slightly shorter than her daughter and looking exactly like her, pushed past his hand and wrapped him in a hug. "We don't shake hands with handsome men in this house," she announced. "Now come and sit down and tell me everything."

They were hustled to the kitchen table and Kate retrieved sodas from the refrigerator before pausing. "Where's Daddy?"

"He's over at Pete's. They've got a new rusty hulk they're restoring. He promised to be home by suppertime."

Kate rolled her eyes as she sat down. "I'm sure Gloria's pleased about that."

"She's furious," Rachel replied, grinning. "It suits her. Now start talking."

"Pete's my oldest brother," Kate explained to Tim. "Gloria's his wife. We hate her. Anyway." She sat back in her chair and launched into an explanation of what had happened with Davenport, beginning with the first email and going forward from there. She explained about the ruse and their hideout in Nantucket, and finished off with, "and right after Gibbs called to let us know he'd caught him, Tim's parents showed up. So we stayed and spent the weekend with them. Then when Gibbs put me on forced vacation, I thought about coming out here. So here we are."

"And I," declared Rachel, who was now sitting at the table with them, "am glad for it. Thank you for bringing her, Tim." She reached out and patted his hand warmly. "So, how long have you two been seeing each other?"

Tim spluttered, but Kate rolled her eyes. "Not quite a week, Mom. Cut him some slack."

Just then, the front door of the house opened and a man's voice boomed out. "Rachel? We got company?"

"In the kitchen, Larry." Rachel smiled and patted Tim's hand again. "Don't you worry about a thing. Katie's dad's just going to love you."

A moment later, a hugely burly man appeared in the kitchen doorway. His eyes lit up when they landed on his daughter's face. "Katie!"

"Hi, Daddy." Kate stood and allowed herself to be swallowed up in a bear hug. "How are you?"

"Exhausted. How are you? Mom said you were having some trouble."

"It's all been handled. I'll tell you the whole ugly story later. Daddy, this is Tim McGee. Tim, this is my dad, Larry."

Tim stood and offered his hand again, and found it shaken enthusiastically. "Good to meet you, boy," Larry Todd greeted him. "Any friend of Katie's is always welcome here. How long are you staying?"

"A few days," Kate replied. "I'd like to be back to work on Monday."

"How's the arm?" He pulled the neck of Kate's tee shirt to the side, seeing the bandage.

"It's better," Kate said. She shrugged carefully out of her shirt and peeled the bandage to the side, letting him see the wound. "I was supposed to go get it checked out today, and possibly get the stitches out, but of course we were on the road, so I thought I'd go see Dr. Mike tomorrow."

"Good idea. You let your brother take a look at that; I want him to be sure there's nothing wrong with it." Larry took the bandage from her and pressed it gently back into place, then helped her back on with her shirt. Then he drew her into another, more gentle hug. "You need to be more careful," he said in a hoarse voice. "I can't imagine losing you, Punkin."

Kate sniffled and gave her father a watery smile. "I'm harder to get rid of than you'd think, Daddy."

The four of them sat around the kitchen table and Kate told her story again. By the time she was done, supper was ready, and after they ate, Rachel hustled them off to bed. "You must be exhausted," she said, herding them up the stairs like baby chicks. "Get some sleep and we'll spend tomorrow catching up."

A moment later, they found themselves staring at one another, standing just inside the doorway of Kate's childhood bedroom. There was utter silence for a moment, and then suddenly Kate smiled. "My parents absolutely adore you," she said firmly.

"They do?" Tim asked. "How can you tell? You haven't even had a chance to be around them without me there."

Kate grinned. "My mother just put us both in my bedroom. If she didn't love you already, you'd be in the downstairs guest room, with my father and his gun cabinet between us."

Tim looked around the room. "You know, if I was picking your bedroom out of a lineup, never in a million years would I pick this room."

Kate grinned. "It's horrible, isn't it?"

It was, in fact, very pink and very purple, with a frightening amount of lace thrown in. Tim looked around. "I'm not sure I can sleep in this. I may have nightmares."

Kate shoved his shoulder gently. "You'll survive."

"Please tell me your mother did this over your strenuous objections."

"Sorry," Kate replied, dragging her suitcase over by the closet door. "No can do. I did this to myself in the tenth grade."

"For God's sake, why?"

Kate shrugged, looking around. "When I was little, it was yellow and white." She wandered over to sit on the edge of the bed, looking around. "When I was twelve, I made some money cutting lawns and I bought black paint with it. From the time I was twelve until I got out of the psych ward, the walls were black and the curtains and everything were really dark blue." She paused and gave him a tight smile. "Wait till you see the pictures of me from back then. I could have given Abby a run for her money." She shook her head. "When I got out of the hospital and came home, walking in here was like walking back into that basement. I couldn't deal with it. I slept downstairs for a month until we could repaint and redecorate."

He moved to her side, sitting down and wrapping his arms around her. "Do you need to, maybe, talk to somebody about all this?" he asked tentatively, not wanting to offend her, but concerned.

She sighed, leaning against him. "Probably." She looked up at him. "That's… I kind of had an ulterior motive to coming here."

He laughed softly. "You've got somebody here you can talk to?"

Kate nodded. "My therapist. I called her Saturday while you were outside with your parents; she said she can see me tomorrow afternoon."

"Good. So in the morning you'll go see your doctor about your stitches, and in the afternoon you'll go see your other doctor about your head. And then tomorrow night you'll tell me where the best place is to take you out to a really fancy dinner."

Smiling, she reached up to kiss him. "You really studied those romance novels hard, didn't you?"

"Am I getting a passing grade on the final?"

Her hands slipped under the tail of his shirt. "I think you're going straight to the head of the class."

The next morning, he drove her into the city to Community Hospital, where she strolled in like she owned the place and asked the receptionist for directions to the office of the head of cardiothoracic surgery.

"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist asked.

"No," Kate replied. "I don't need one. Just tell me where his office is."

"Ma'am, you have to have an appointment," the receptionist began, and Kate waved a negligent hand.

"Forget it. I'll find it myself." She turned and walked away, Tim hurrying to follow. A sign on a wall gave them directions to the surgical wing, and Kate turned in that direction. "Ridiculous, really," she was muttering to herself. "Can't even give someone directions when you ask them to." Sensing her irritation, Tim wisely said nothing.

They climbed off the elevator on the fifth floor and Kate strolled up to the nearest nurses' station. "Excuse me," she said politely to the woman behind the counter. "Can you please tell me where I can find –"

"Katie?"

A man's voice interrupted her, and Kate turned, grinning widely. "Mike!"

"Katie! What are you doing here?" The man who approached them was tall, lanky, and dark-haired, and followed by a group of younger, nervous-looking people in scrubs. Kate hurried to his side and was enveloped in a huge bear hug.

"I came to see you," she said when he let her go, grinning widely. "I need medical attention."

"Psychiatric's on the eighth floor," he began, but she whacked him on the arm.

"Stop being a jerk. I'm serious. I've been shot."

One of the scrub-clad young women gasped and all of them got expressions of consternation. Mike just laughed. "So I heard. You just can't keep out of trouble, can you?"

"Nope." She stepped back. "So, you wanna give me a checkup or what?"

He rolled his eyes. "Do I look like a doctor to you?"

"No," she said, her eyes twinkling merrily. "You look like an extra from Grey's Anatomy, only not nearly as good looking."

Laughing, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Come on; there's an empty exam room right over here."

The group of them piled into the exam room. Tim helped Kate up onto the table while Mike pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. "These are my interns, by the way," he said as Kate unbuttoned her shirt. "Apparently this is a teaching hospital, so I'm required to warp young minds."

"Oh, you poor kids," Kate replied, looking sympathetically at the group of interns. Then she winked at Mike. "Since we're doing introductions, Tim McGee. Tim, my brother Mike."

"So I gathered," Tim replied dryly. He watched as Mike removed the bandage with a calm, professional touch and winced at the sight of her shoulder.

"Damn, Katie. That must hurt like hell."

"It's better now than it was two weeks ago," Kate replied. "Can you take the stitches out?"

"Are you gonna do anything stupid with this arm if I do?"

"Depends on what you consider stupid," Kate replied, grinning. "I'm not out practicing my free throws, but there is a little one-on-one being played."

Tim felt his face turn beet red as Mike raised an appraising eye to him. "Have you mentioned to him that I know a hundred and seventy-four ways to stop a human heart without leaving any forensic evidence?"

"No, but I showed him Daddy's gun cabinet." The siblings shared a laugh and then Mike got down to business, carefully removing the sutures and examining the wound.

"You're gonna have a nasty scar, Bear," he said softly. Then he walked around and examined the exit wound, giving the interns a chance to look at the front.

"Ma'am?" one of the interns asked. "Do you mind if I ask how you got this wound?"

"I was shot by a sniper two weeks ago," Kate replied.

"Oh, yeah!" another one exclaimed. "I saw you on the news! You're that Fed!"

Kate rolled her eyes. Mike looked up from his examination of her back. "Her name is Ms. Todd," he snapped. "She's not 'that Fed.' We don't ever refer to patients by anything other than their name."

"Not to their faces, anyway," Kate added, smiling.

Mike placed a new bandage on the front of Kate's shoulder, giving the interns a chance to check out the back. Then he bandaged the back and helped her back into her shirt. "Are you taking any pain meds?"

"Tylenol when I have to," she replied. "Otherwise, no. The surgeon in D.C. gave me Percodan, but I never filled the script."

"Why do you do this to yourself?"

"Because narcotics give me nightmares," Kate replied flatly.

Mike's expression turned understanding. "And with the other situation…" He nodded when she looked at him sharply. "Yeah, Mom told me what was going on. I assume since you're here everything's been worked out?"

Kate's eyes flicked to the group of interns, then back to Mike. "Yeah. It's handled."

"Good." He stepped forward and hugged her gently. "Love you, Bear," he whispered in her ear. Then, as he stepped away, he spoke in a normal tone again. "I'll come see you tonight."

"Do that," Kate replied. "I'll tell Mom to expect you for dinner."

That afternoon, Kate spent an hour in her therapist's office, rehashing old feelings that had been brought to the forefront by the emotional attacks from James Davenport. She felt better for being able to get out everything she was feeling with someone who was already familiar with her situation, and was quite ready to take on the world again with both hands until the doctor leaned back in her chair and said, "So, tell me about Tim."

"What about him? He's really great." Kate smiled. "He read romance novels as a teenager to try and learn how women want to be treated."

The therapist pinned Kate with a gimlet eye. "And does he like being used as a substitute for you actually feeling what you're going through?"

Kate stared. "What?"

"I asked how he likes you using him to shield yourself from the pain of your recent experiences."

"I am not!" Kate exclaimed.

"No? When did you first realize you were attracted to him?"

Kate considered it. "I first realized it when he was sitting in my apartment with me," she said slowly. "Because he was being so sweet. But I was wondering why I never noticed it before, and I realized that I did notice it before, I just ignored it. Because of Gibbs and his stupid Rule Twelve." She shifted on the couch, considering. "No. I'm not using him to hide from my feelings. I really likehim, Donna. And he likes me."

"How does he react when you break down?"

Kate smiled softly. "He holds me while I cry," she said, "and he tells me everything's gonna be okay. And he makes me believe it."

"When you get upset or you start to feel depressed, do you go to him to make yourself feel better?"

"No," Kate said definitely. "I've been keeping up my journaling and I get out and run or play with the dog. That's not what Tim's for."

"Well, what is Tim for?"

"Tim is…" Kate paused, searching for words. "Tim is amazing. He listens when I need to talk, and he doesn't judge me or what I've been through. He's always there if I need him. We've been friends since he joined the team, and we've hung out and done things together before now." She shook her head. "That's not what Tim's about, Donna. He… I think he loves me. And I think maybe I love him. I just didn't realize it before now."

Donna nodded, and then smiled. "That's what I was hoping you'd say."

"Really?" Looking up at her doctor, Kate began to smile too.

"Really." Donna leaned forward. "How do your parents feel about him?"

"Mom adores him already," Kate said. "Daddy hasn't said anything yet, but that's just how Daddy is; he doesn't say. He shows. We're here probably until Friday, and I'm almost sure he'll ask Tim to go fishing with him sometime this week."

The clock on the wall chimed the hour, and Kate looked up at it with an expression of consternation. "Already?"

"Already." Donna stood and shook Kate's hand firmly. "I'll expect your call at the regular time next week."

Kate smiled. "Thanks for seeing me, Donna."

"Kate, you know I'll clear my schedule for you any time you're in town." She reached out and gave the younger woman an impulsive hug. "Take care of yourself."

The rest of the week passed quickly, and on Friday morning, Kate and Tim packed their car to head back to Washington. Kate's mother hugged them both tightly in the driveway, and Kate's father hugged her and shook hands firmly with Tim. "Drive carefully," he admonished.

"We will," Kate assured him. "Tim's a very good driver. Not like Tony," she added with a grin.

"Good," Larry said. Then he turned to Tim and pointed a finger at him. "You take good care of my little girl."

"I will," Tim replied with a slight smile. "I promise."

Kate's parents stood by the driveway and waved until they were no longer visible in the rearview mirror, and then Kate leaned back in the passenger seat and sighed softly. "It's definitely going to be good to get back to work," she said, looking out the window. "I've enjoyed being off, but I'm starting to get antsy."

Tim laughed softly. "I understand completely." He paused for a moment and then said, "Gibbs called yesterday."

"He did?" Kate turned to look at him. "What did he say?"

"Davenport confessed. He's pleading guilty."

There was a very long silence in the car as all the air seemed to go out of Kate for a moment. Once she had her breath back, she asked, "What charges?"

"Harassment, stalking, threatening a Federal agent, breaking and entering, destruction of property, three counts each of kidnapping, child abuse, rape, and gross sexual imposition of a minor under fifteen, and two counts of accessory to murder."

"Not homicide?"

Tim shook his head. "He maintains that Neil is the one who did the actual murders, but he was willing to plead guilty to accessory, and the prosecutor took it because it would be impossible to prove which one of them actually did it."

Kate swallowed hard and nodded. "And my testimony would be worthless, because I didn't even know there were two of them until Abby found out."

Tim nodded. "If it helps at all," he said gently, "even if he only gets the minimum sentence for each crime, he'll still be in his nineties when he gets out of prison."

Kate's eyes flashed. "Then I'll just have to make sure he doesn't get the minimum," she said flatly. "When is his sentencing hearing?"

"Monday."

"I want to be there."