Geez, it's almost like I always update on Sundays, eh? Oh well, it's Spring Break! :D

Finally, the plot emerges! You are all lovely people for sticking around with me this long.

Enjoy, read, and review!


It had been two weeks since I began working with Abby, and thankfully the frisking had stopped thanks to the ID card. There had been undercover operations, there had been computer hacking and analyzing of blood spatter three times over, yet nothing was found. There had been tire prints on the road, but they had ended up being bald tires, so we only had a portion of the pattern. Two more people since have been killed. One had a minor in forensic science, and the other with a major in criminal justice. It was a stroke of luck, really, for the killer. Two birds with one stone—the two had been walking together the night they had died. However, it was as if the person who had killed the two students was a ghost.

"It seems as if the killer is becoming more personal with the victims. If you notice how far in the bullet goes in this body, and then the next few, it's deeper. I know that the victims have different body types and statures, but why would the bullet go in so much deeper?"

"I don't know. If we had the actual boot, I think things would be so much easier. I just want to know why we haven't been able to match it up with any other boot," I sighed. "Maybe he made incisions to the soles, and made his own design?"

"No kidding. Maybe…I don't know how likely it is, though. I can run it again in a bit. We're virtually at a dead end. Or maybe not…" Abby typed on her computer. On the screen was a list of recently declared majors that were crime related. "Hmm."

"What are you hmm-ing about?" I asked.

"Have you declared a major yet?"

"Yeah, about two weeks ago. Why?"

She immediately pressed the speaker button on the telephone. "Gibbs. Get down here."

"For what, Abs?"

"I have some really bad news." With that, she lifted her finger from the button.

I glanced at her. "Care to explain?"

She gave me a distressed look. "You can wait a minute, because you're not going to like what I just found."

I looked over at the list of declared majors, and paled a little bit. Shit. Shit.

"You looked, didn't you?" Abby frowned.

I nodded, unsure of what to say.

"What is it, Abs?" Gibbs came in, gruff as usual.

"The proximity of the range of the shooter has been getting closer. A lot closer. Say, about two hundred feet. He's getting up front and personal, almost, with his victims. In fact, even the killings are getting closer together. But that's not the bad news…"

"Well?" He asked, almost frustrated.

"If we don't catch him the next time he kills someone…Julia's next," she looked over to the screen.

I followed Gibbs from the lab, to the elevator, and as he was walking to his desk; I almost had to run. As of now, this case was past full speed ahead. We need to figure out who this guy is as soon as possible." He sent a mini glare out to his team. "Julia, you're going to be supervised by an agent until you safely and securely reach your dorm every night."

"Why will we need to protect Julia?" Ziva asked, confused. "She is just Abby's assistant. She is not an agent."

"She may not be an agent," Gibbs grunted, "but she is a target."

The team fell silent.

I could feel their eyes burning holes into my body. The pain and almost slight embarrassment was still easier than having a bullet go through my flesh, I imagined. Just pretend they're in their underwear, right?

Gibbs stared at his team. "Get started!" he barked. He walked over to me and started to walk me back to the elevator. In a hushed voice, he said, "I know you're scared, but we will protect you. We will take extra precautionary measures and arrange for you to stay at an agent's house. Regardless of you being Abby's assistant, you are still a member of this team and will be treated as such. Although a campus is a safe place with people and security guards roaming, Clarice was still shot right off of campus, and Joseph? Not too far away either. It's not safe for you. We've already had too many people go in this case alone. You will not be one of them. I guarantee it." With that, he ushered me into the elevator, and the doors shut.

As the elevator started to fall down the floors, I got the shakes and almost threw up right then and there.

Abby got a good look at my not-so-good-looking face. She grimaced. "That's the verdict, huh? You should sit down. You can go in my office."

"No, I…I can't. I need to work." I wanted to live, didn't I?

"Just sit down for a moment and process it. Please?"

I just looked at her with my mouth hanging partially open. My stomach was in knots, constantly untying and tying itself into an even more complicated and tangled system. "I…" Were there really any words to describe what I was feeling? That I was on a hit list of some demented man? Time to break out the dictionary.

I had been mugged in Germany, with only fists to threaten me, I had seen multiple members of the mob in Italy. I had experienced earthquakes, and I had seen death in France. In London, I saw a victim of heart failure with my own eyes. But never once had my life been in the equation.

She cleared her throat. "Julia, as your mentor and knowledgeable forensic scientist, I demand you sit down in my office," she put on a tough, frown-like face.

It might have cheered me up had I hadn't have tons of thoughts running through my head.

"Go, go." She gently pushed me toward her office, and I landed on her spinning chair. I sat back, and attempted to process what had just happened.

When I had tried to get up an hour later to try to do something useful, she had pushed me back down into the chair. She then said, "When I'm really troubled, I go to Ducky. You could always talk to him. Even if he doesn't give you any advice, something about him is just really nice."

My mouth was very dry. "Maybe I'll go do that," I croaked.

I left the room and entered the autopsy room.

"Oh, hello, Julia," he smiled, "what brings you here?"

"Abby said this is the place she goes to when she's troubled about something. So I decided to try it out."

Ducky, who was currently filing an autopsy report, gave me a kind yet worried look. "What's the matter?"

I'm sure it came in a jumbled mess and sounded a little something like this: "''mnextandIdon'tknowwhattodo."

"That's a very bad predicament, I agree. It is a fact that while working for NCIS, I've been put in many dangerous positions, and while each time it's very scary, it affects a person a little less. It comes with the job description, I bet," he smiled. "But, whoever this man is, I know fully in my heart that you can and will catch him."

I had to smile back at him. Abby was right. While fully telling the absolutely scary truth, he somehow made it seem a lot less hazardous than it really was. I was still scared shitless, of course. "Thanks, Ducky. I think that really helped. At least until it's dark out," I put effort into a small joke about my situation.

He laughed a little bit.

Palmer came in through a side door and groaned. "I hate cleaning medical supplies. Hey, Julia."

"Palmer," I acknowledged him with a small wave.

"Well," Ducky began, "that's why when you have a job like I do, you get an assistant."

I laughed. "Isn't that the truth. I should probably start saving my life now. I'll talk to you later."

"Goodbye, Julia. Now, Palmer…" he began as I left the premises.


Oh snap.

Well, that's all for now, folks. Surprisingly, I don't have TOO much homework...considering my teachers probably spawn from Satan himself.

...Just saying. ...Yeah.

Well, I hope you liked it as much as I had fun to write it.

Review, darlings?

Spend the rest of your day going outside! :D

-Amehhh