Bonjour, Namaste, Salaam, and Shalom, Ladies and Gentlemen! Well, he we are again. As always I thank Melbelle310 for her dedication to pushing me forward and improving myself. Please check out her wonderful stories. I don't object to G's. dinner with Miss Joelle, but I do object to Hetty and Sam sending him in blind!

When the pair descended, the rich, complex smells of Thai food filled the air. A soft but completely unladylike moan vibrated in her throat, causing her to blush in embarrassment. Her mouth watered and her tummy tightened in anticipation. "It smells as good as my favorite street corner in Bangkok."

Callen's face lit up with a delighted smile, hoping that if Tatyana calmed down, Hetty's worry would lessen. "I should warn you, you'll have to fight me for the crab wantons."

She turned to him with a deadly serious expression on her face. "You might be incredibly charismatic, charming, my protector, have a gorgeous smile—" G. smirked, and pulled his shoulders back further. Tatyana frowned, and her voice turned stern, "but if you think I won't fight you for a fair share, you're gravely mistaken."

"Bring it on!" he challenged, and then a sheepish look broke out on his face. "Do you really think I'm charming, charismatic, and have a gorgeous smile, or did Hetty tell you flattery will get you anywhere?"

She sighed, sensing his mockery. "I don't have many requests for our time together, Callen, but I do have one that is non-negotiable: do not patronize me. You know exactly how attractive you are, and you know how to use it. I know you're doing this as a test, and I accept it. However, I am going to pass your tests, Callen. So be as charming, aggressive, or closed off as you want to be. Just don't be a character; be yourself." He didn't reply, so she let him think about it and went to the table. Hetty and Abby placed many cartons on the huge table, while McGee and Ziva laid out the tableware.

Hetty's sharp hearing picked up the end of Tatyana's gentle demand, causing her to look up briefly from her task and glare at her agent. "Is there something I should know, Mr. Callen?"

He immediately took the spot nearest the crab wantons. "No, Hetty. I'm just giving Tatyana a friendly warning about the crab wantons."

Hetty smirked. "Save your fighting energy for something else, Mr. Callen. I've made sure there is plenty for us all, knowing your fondness for them and Tatyana's rather unfortunate addiction."

The younger woman's face set itself into a deep scowl. "I am not an addict, Hetty!" she objected, her voice sounding like a child's who'd been teased a little too much.

A wry grin twitched on the older woman's lips. "What would you call it when you make them three times a week?"

The younger woman held her head up high, like a queen looking down on a peasant. "I would call myself a fine cook. Now, did you get plenty of dipping sauce?"

"Of course."

Tony emerged from the kitchen with two bottles of Riesling. "How is it that the safe houses here are multimillion dollar mansions with primo wine cellars and bars, while in DC they're crappy apartments and shacks?"

Callen sat down and chuckled. "DiNozzo, this isn't a normal situation. Our usual safe houses are mostly renovated former crack houses. Some of them, even I wouldn't live in, and I've lived in just about every hovel known to man."

"Good to know," Tony smirked.

Carter and Gibbs walked into the house after the older man had walked the perimeter. "It sure smells good in here," Carter sighed.

Hetty pointed to a seat. "Join us, Agent Carter. Leroy, sit down. It's time to eat."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and sat down. "I swear I will start calling you Henrietta."

Her eyes narrowed into a sharp glare. "Obviously, you don't remember what happened the last time you tried to call me that."

Before Gibbs could respond, Tatyana interrupted. "Everyone sit down, and I'll serve before it all goes cold. I don't know about the rest of you, but I do not like cold wantons."

Everyone took a seat, and she started scooping heaps of rice and green curry shrimp onto the plates. She added Som Tum, the delicious green papaya salad, and three crab wantons to the first plate. Then, she handed the plate to Hetty. "Here you are dearest, it's a little fancier than the last time we were in Bangkok."

"Thank you, Tanechka."

She served the table quickly and efficiently, falling back on the rigid etiquette training of her youth and the perfect example of the domestic staff that still attended her mother's family both in England and Ireland. She made sure that each person got what he or she wanted, and silently rejoiced when she saw enough wantons for both her and Callen to each have a double portion. After everyone had his or her food, she served herself, sat down, and said a silent prayer of thanks. Then, she popped a crab wanton in her mouth and enjoyed a moment of pure bliss as the flavors burst in her mouth. When she had savored all she could, she dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin and turned her attention to Derek Carter. "Agent Carter, I'd like to thank you and your team for today. I'm a fairly good baker, maybe I could make something you all would like."

Derek smiled. He never could resist an intriguing woman, and this one offered to feed him. "Oh, now you don't have to go through all of that trouble. We were just doing our jobs."

Tony scoffed before taking another sip of his wine. "You guys were doing something I suppose."

His face twisted in anger, but before he could respond, Gibbs spoke. "Enough, DiNozzo. When you're done eating hit the wrack, and no more alcohol."

Tony sneered, but he didn't try to argue. Tatyana decided she'd make him some cannoli soon. Turning her attention back to Agent Carter, she smiled. "I know that your team was doing their jobs, Agent Carter, but I do insist."

Carter still wanted nothing more than to ram his fist into the other man's face, but he wisely turned his attention back to free food and a charming woman. "We all like brownies."

"Does anyone have any nut allergies?"

"The only one with allergies is me. I can't have strawberries."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Carter finished his rice and decided to take the bull by the horns. "Okay, you explained why you're here and who wants to kill you, but what does this mean for my investigation? My job is to find out if the group your man made contact with is Abu Sayyaf and take them down if they are. We think your man is posing as an arms dealer, but we can't be sure. If this guy isn't an arms dealer, and we can't prove he's a terrorist, then you've got nothing."

Gibbs put down his fork and leaned forward. "So where are you with this case, Carter?"

The younger man sighed, and for the first time, fatigue showed on his face. "Nowhere."

"Big surprise!" Tony murmured.

Gibbs' hard palm made contact with Tony's equally hard head. "Hit the wrack, all of you."

Tony stood up, with Ziva following close behind. "I will make sure he sleeps tonight, Gibbs. It has been days since he's even tried."

Gibbs nodded. "McGee, Abby, go on."

Tim stood slowly, exhaustion finally hitting him all at once; he held out Abby's chair, and she wrapped herself around him. "Come on McGee, let's get to bed. I doubt even a Caf-Pow will keep me standing."

McGee flushed scarlet when Carter gave him a thumbs-up. Gibbs was glaring at him as if he had broken all fifty-one rules at once. "Boss I swear…"

"Go." Gibbs growled.

After his team left, Gibbs turned his attention to Carter. "We had a bad case: six little girls kidnapped, raped and murdered. The youngest was seven, and we were too late to get to her. Tony's taking it hard."

Some of Carter's ire died. He'd worked a few child predator cases, and he knew that they were a special kind of hell. He still resented his ability to do his job being questioned by his peer, but he could hold his temper for now. "Tell me you got the monster and all is forgotten."

"He's gone. Just don't take everything Tony says seriously. He'll be fine in the morning. Now, talk about your case."

Carter sat straight and became all business. "We got a hit when we discovered that a local import/export shop has been making big donations to a suspicious charity. We've been trying to get in and get some solid Intel, but these people are either genuinely in the dark or very good at covering their tracks."

"What kind of imports and exports?" Tatyana asked, dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

"They import furniture and antiques from all over Southeast Asia, and export artisan furniture from Mexico. This isn't the stuff you'd get at Pier 1. This is some valuable stuff. Most of it comes from Thailand, Indonesia, and India. We've been doing surveillance on the place; we even got a warrant to wire the joint. The trouble is that the mystery man's Arabic is so lousy that we can't get an accurate translation."

"So what makes you think this guy is an arms dealer?" Callen asked, trying to sneak a crab wonton off of Hetty's plate. She smacked his hand and he bit his tongue to keep from laughing.

"We know that he's looking export something through them into Southeast Asia. We don't know what, how, or why. My partner Justin says that some of the phrases he uses are common for arms dealers who do business in the Middle East."

Tatyana leaned forward. "Southeast Asia, how much business do they do in Viet Nam?"

Carter's eyes widened slightly. "A lot. Why do you ask?"

A wry expression crossed her face. "There are a lot of places for the monsters of the past to hide if a person knows where to look for them. There are even more places in the world to find the treasures that the monsters guard if they actually exist."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed, and he took a long drink. "Are we looking for treasures or monsters?"

A shadow fell across her dark eyes, bringing out the deep midnight blue hidden inside of them. "I wish I knew, Gibbs, I wish to God I knew. When a person goes looking for treasure, they usually find the monster that guards it. Perhaps if we find the right monsters from the past, we can find the monster we're hunting in the present."

Hetty reached over to take her hand. "Fortunately, Tanechka, this room is full of experts at hunting monsters, past and present."

Tatyana squeezed Hetty's tiny hand gently. "Hunters need rest or the prey can get the better of them. Gibbs has been up more than twenty-four hours, and I've had a long flight. Poor Agent Carter must be ready to drop."

Carter sat up a little straighter. "I'm doing fine."

Hetty smiled. "Indeed you are, Mr. Carter. However, Tatyana is correct. It's time for you and I to go to our homes and for all of us to get a good night's sleep."

"You're the boss, Hetty." Carter stood up and nodded his head to the ladies. "It was a pleasure to assist today, and I look forward to hunting monsters with you." Then he turned to Gibbs. "It's an honor to meet you, Gibbs. It'll be great working with you, and I'll try not to take a swing at DiNozzo while you're here."

Gibbs nodded and shook the younger man's hand. "I appreciate that."

Callen stood up and walked over to his exhausted younger colleague. "Come on, Derek, I'll walk you to the street. Jake has a sniper posted on the roof next door. We wouldn't want Ronny to mistake you for target practice. After all, you did steal his girl."

"Ha, ha, Callen, you think you're so funny. I don't see how Sam has put up with you for almost six years."

"Sam has a better sense of humor, I guess."

When the two younger agents left the house, Hetty and Gibbs began clearing the table. Tatyana immediately bolted out of her chair. "Oh no, I'll do it, you two. I was raised better than that," she insisted, trying to shoo them both away.

Hetty put her hands on her hips and glared at the young woman. "Tatyana Levovna you will put down those plates, go take a shower, and then get into your bed. If you don't think you can sleep, then get your sketch pad and draw all the people that you saw with your trunks."

"But, Hetty…"

"No buts. GO!"

Tatyana broke out in giggles. "The last time you sent me to bed like this I was eight years old. It was exactly like this, and papa was standing behind you with a red dishtowel. He was more afraid of that tone than I was."

Hetty wrapped her arms around her and smiled. "You might not have been properly afraid of my tone, Tanechka, but you did go to bed."

Tatyana returned the hug and kissed Hetty's cheek. "You win, Hetty, just like always," she sighed and scurried to her room.

Callen rejoined two of the people who epitomized family to him. "Well, Ronny's on the roof, and he didn't shoot Derek. Hetty, you've been ordering people to get rest for about three hours now, it's time for you to go home. I don't care which home it is so long as you're tucked into a warm bed within the hour."

"Mr. Callen, have you perhaps forgotten that I am your boss?"

The crooked half grin that she loved so much appeared on his face. "No, Hetty. I haven't forgotten that you're 'rowing the boat'. Do you want me to walk you to your car?"

"No, Mr. Callen. I'm perfectly capable of seeing myself out. Now, I believe you can handle the rest of the cleaning up, and if I'm not mistaken you have a lot of studying to do tonight."

"Yes, Hetty."

The tiny woman squeezed his hand and turned to Gibbs. "Leroy, you can't just run on coffee. I know you don't need a lot of sleep but please try to get some."

He smirked and rolled his eyes. "Sure, Hetty."

"I will see you all in the morning."

Callen stepped in front of her. "Hey, aren't you going to say goodnight to Tatyana?"

"I already have, Mr. Callen. She's preparing herself for bed. Now please remember to move about quietly when Leroy and Tatyana are asleep. The last thing we need is a repeat of the time you stayed with Mr. Hanna."

Gibbs laughed. "I know what to expect, Hetty."

"Well then, I will see you all at the office bright and early. Leroy, if she should wake up…"

"Hetty, she'll be fine. I know what to do. I used to be great with little girls and bad dreams."

She gave him a brief nod of recognition, and then, in typical Hetty fashion, she seemed to vanish right in front of them. The two men shared a knowing look and continued clearing the mess. Neither of them did the dishes regularly because they relied on disposable tableware or hand food. Still, they completed the task quickly due to organization ingrained by years in the military.

After Gibbs had dried the last dish and put it away, he gently placed both hands on Callen's shoulders. "You healed up well, G."

The corner of Callen's mouth quirked, and he shook his head. "There are days when I'm popping 'grunt-candy' before I even have my morning coffee. Sam is always nagging about me pushing too hard, and my diet. He even told me to try Pilates."

The mental image of G. doing Pilates made the older man chuckle. "He sounds like a good partner."

"He's the best." Simple words, easily said, but he meant them whole-heartedly. "I drive the poor guy nuts. He's pretty mad that you're here and not him. He thinks that if I do something crazy he has to be there."

"I'm not surprised; you're an expert at crazy."

Callen shot him a dirty look. "You know if I get hurt under your watch, Sam won't take it kindly."

Gibbs just smirked. "That's why I have Ziva."

Callen took the briefcase he had been given, set it down on the island, and opened it. "Go to bed, Jethro."

Gibbs raised his eyebrow at the order, but the weight of fatigue that he'd been fighting for weeks had finally caught up to him. He patted G. on the shoulder one more time then headed upstairs. "See you in the morning, G."

He left G. to unlock the mysteries in his files and walked up the stairs quietly. He noticed little indentations in the white carpet in the hall. They must have come from the trunks, which meant that Tony and McGee must have brought them up before they left. The thought brought a smile to his face. They really were fine men. He was so proud of his kids, even if they were driving him crazy now. At the end of the hall, the door was ajar and light was pouring through. He wasn't sure if she was awake or not, but he wouldn't be able to sleep until he checked on her first.

He kept as quiet as he possibly could just in case she was asleep, but as soon as he was at the door, her soft voice came through. "Come in, Jethro."

He walked into yet another white room. Glass doors that opened onto a balcony along the entire west wall. The views were incredible he could almost understand why people paid the outrageous sums of money for them. There wasn't much in the room aside from a California king-sized bed, two side tables, and a bench at the foot of the bed. Like the rest of the house, the furniture was hard, low, and black. He couldn't imagine where Hetty had procured this place. However, one thing he knew: whoever the previous owners were, they used this house for show and not for living.

Tatyana looked like a little girl tucked in the huge bed, dressed in a pair of navy blue silk pajamas with her hair down in two long braids. On her lap rested a sketchbook and pencils. The sight reminded him so much of Kelly his heart went straight to his throat. "Are your things all here?"

She looked up from her sketch and rolled her neck to loosen her stiffening muscles. "Yes. Tony and Tim were sweet to take my trunks up. A shower helped a lot, and although every other piece of furniture inside of this house is a nightmare; this is a Four Seasons mattress. You'll sleep tonight, trust me."

"You should sleep, you didn't get much on the flight."

"Jethro, if there's one thing that you, Callen, and I have in common it's that none of us needs much sleep to function. I have one more sketch to do. I never saw the men who came for my trunks before. Eric and Tim might have to hack into Scotland Yard's database tomorrow. I've never worked locally before."

The corner of Gibbs mouth twitched in amusement. "Strictly international work then?"

"No. I've done work for domestic agencies before. However, if Brazanlov hired four local thugs to tag my trunks, they wouldn't be on my radar."

Leroy Jethro Gibbs hardly ever acted without thinking. It went contrary to his nature. Therefore, it surprised him when he bent down and kissed her cheek. His voice turned even gruffer than usual. "Don't stay up too late."

The young woman sat very still, trying to decide how she should respond. A man, who in many ways reminded her so much her father, had quickly carved a place for himself in her heart. She knew she would never have a place like Abby or Ziva's in his affections. She didn't need that. Nevertheless, he made her feel safe, something she had almost forgotten how to feel. He took a step back when she grabbed his hand. "Jethro, only two people have ever called me Tanechka: Papa, and Hetty. Now, there's only Hetty left. If you want, I'd be very happy if you called me Tanechka,too."

"Sweet dreams, Tanechka," he whispered.