A/N: So, things are moving a little slow at the moment, but they should be picking up in the next chapter. I have been having some great luck with writing lately (lots of time, and no writers block!) so hopefully that next chapter will be up in a few days! Yay!
"Hey, McGee." When Tim looked up, Gibbs pointed to the catwalk.
Finally, Tim thought as he leapt out of his chair and sprinted up the stairs to where Ducky was waiting for him.
"Well, Duck?" Good news, good news, good news…
"She's a very pleasant young lady. We had a very nice chat about –"
"But how is she?" Tim interrupted. His patience, already thin, was wearing down even more.
"I noticed some signs of anxiety. Though I must say that she did her best to hide it."
"Why? Why won't she let us help her?"
"I believe she is embarrassed. Wouldn't you be, if you were her? She doesn't want her cousin or his coworkers to see her at her weakest."
He nodded. "Okay. I'll go talk to her. On your way down, can you tell the team that I'll call them when she's ready?"
"Of course."
He watched Ducky walk down the stairs and took a deep breath before he walked in. He couldn't believe that she was embarrassed about something that wasn't her fault. It angered him, as well as filled him with worry. And behind the anger and concern, there was hurt. Never before had she hidden from him what she was really feeling. He always received e-mails or phone calls about her day; he heard from her at least four times a week. They were as close as siblings, like a second sister to him. He opened the door.
She looked up too fast, a look of panic on her face. He bit back a sigh, forced a smile.
"Hey. You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, fighting to compose herself.
He noticed bags under her eyes for the first time, and couldn't help the frown that pulled at his lips. "Do you need something to drink?"
"No, I'm really fine," she insisted.
"What about lunch? We could go out, or–"
"Tim, I'm serious. I'm okay."
This time he did sigh, and he sat in the seat next to her. "You shouldn't be, after what you went through. I have days, just investigating cases, that I can't find the will to eat. Just thinking about some of the things that people had to deal with… It's no picnic."
She sat, silently listening, as he told her not to hide anything from him.
"And then there are the days when I do have to live through it," he continued. "There was one mission where I got kidnapped, on purpose, but I still had nightmares for weeks after it." He saw no need to go into details about the Somalia case; that wasn't his story to tell. He looked at the bags under her eyes again. "You didn't sleep last night, did you?"
She shook her head. "I couldn't, Tim." After the admission, she lost control of the tears that filled her eyes.
He got up to close the already short distance between them and hugged her tightly.
"It's okay, we'll keep you safe, you're fine."
At his assurances, her tears rushed over the dams that had kept them back, soaking his shirt. He held her as she cried, hating the man who had done this to his usually strong cousin. At the same time, he was relieved that he finally understood what was going on inside her head.
When she had calmed down again, when her tears had slowed and her sniffles replaced her sobs, she took a deep – albeit shaky – breath.
"Okay; I think I'm ready."
"Ready for what?" he asked.
"I'm ready to give you guys my statement. You need to know–"
He interrupted, his expression hard. "If you think you're doing that now–"
She cut him off now. "If you think I'm not, you're crazy. Tim, I have to. I might be safe here with you guys, but who knows what he'll do to Ally if you don't catch him in time!"
"You think he'll do something to Ally?" His expression softened again into one of worry.
"Yes."
"Why?"
They were both interrupted by Tony. "You weren't going to start without us, were you, Probie?" he asked, walking in behind Gibbs, with Ziva trailing behind him.
Tim instantly transformed from cousin back to federal agent. "Ziva, I need you to have the Belsons moved to a safe house."
"I will make the call," she said, and left the room.
Tony sat down on the side of Ashlyn opposite from McGee, but Gibbs walked to the water cooler and filled a cup. He handed it to Ashlyn, who smiled a thank you. He smiled back, and both Tony and Tim could imagine what was going through Gibbs' mind just then.
"Why don't you tell us why you think your sister is in danger?" Gibbs asked gently.
"Well, I'm not sure…"
Tim squeezed her hand reassuringly, and she continued. "I just have this…this feeling that he kidnapped me to get to you guys, and if you don't find him, he'll feel like he'll have to do something else."
The three agents exchanged looks.
"Nothing gets by her, does it?" Tony asked.
Tim smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Try having Christmas with her. She tries to guess every present, and she usually gets it right."
"What do you mean? Am I right?" she asked.
Again, the men exchanged glances, and then Gibbs said, "The note we got said just that; all he wants is to talk to us."
She gasped, and her eyes filled again.
"We don't have to do this now, Ashlyn," Tim reminded her.
She shook her head, and blinked the tears away. "No, I want to."
Ziva came back in then. "They're being moved now." Seeing the expression on Ashlyn's face, she added, "Your family is safe now."
"Thank you."
"Now, Ashlyn, if there is anything you can remember…"
"Ziva!" Both McGee and Tony yelled.
"No, guys, it's okay. I'm fine."
"You don't sound like it," Tony muttered.
"Are you sure?" Tim asked.
"Yes," she insisted. But she was silent.
"Just describe the place you were kept," Tim prompted, knowing that this would be no problem for her.
"Okay. It was a little girl's bedroom, I think, and it hadn't been used in a while. It was too neat, and there was a layer of dust over everything."
"How do you know it was a little girl's room?" Tony asked.
"It was pink, and there were stuffed animals on the bed. She was probably in about first or second grade – there was a desk with pencils and loose leaf paper, but there were still picture books on the shelves, along with Disney Princess movies," she explained this time before the question was asked.
"I couldn't get to the window; he had one of my hands tied to the ceiling fan. It was a complex kind of knot, tied really tight. Even you would have had trouble with it, Mr. Boy Scout," she teased Tim half-heartedly as she rubbed her wrist. Tim remembered that the doctors had found minor rope burns there. "The rope was too short for me to reach the windows or the door. I only had access to the bed and the area around it." Her voice was thickening again, and this time Tony took hold of her other hand.
She closed her eyes against the tears, trying to remember. "I don't remember anything else… I'm sorry. I can't even tell you which direction I was facing; the windows were covered with blackout curtains. I can't remember…"
"We're done." McGee took charge, rising and helping Ashlyn up. "Let's go home, Ashlyn. You need something in your stomach and a good night's rest."
She walked out of the conference room ahead of him, and he turned back. "I need you guys to…"
"Look up all divorced men who live around Willow Grove," Tony finished. "We got this, McGee; take care of your cousin."
A/N: Awww! Tony has a heart! I always knew he did! Sorry if Ashlyn is kind of annoying with her observational skills, but think for a minute just how easy life would be if you always remembered exactly where you put your car keys or the TV remote, and how easy detectives would have it if their witnesses could all remember EVERYTHING. I think super-observation would be a great skill to have!
Anyway, enough rambling. Whether you liked it or not, please review! And be specific, so I know what to keep up/do away with!
