A/N: Wow! 25 chapters! This is the longest fic I've ever written. So to honor the 25th chapter I am sending out thanks to me Beta, phantom1s and someone who has left a review on almost every NCIS fic I've ever written: Left My Heart in Paris! Thank you so much for your support! This chapter is returning to a narrator, it is easier to write form this point of view for a gathering this large. Plus I can get into the thoughts of everyone instead of the one whose pov is featured for the chapter. Enjoy and please R&R!

An Unknown Child

25

Sunday dawned nice and clear, with a hint of a summer storm on the horizon. Quinn dragged herself out of bed around 0800 and went for a solitary jog around the block, guessing that her parents would have another way of working out this morning. She runs around the block a few times before returning to the house. Her parents are in the kitchen and she pops in to greet them and grab a glass of water.

"I'll be in the shower." She tells them as she makes her way make out of the room. She runs up the stairs into her room and hop in the shower. Not even five minutes later she emerges and gets dressed for the day, deciding to pull her hair back, she doesn't even bother to blow dry her hair. She dresses in a pair of ripped jeans and a t-shirt. On her feet are flip flops. She heads back downstairs and collects her parents. They all pile into the car and make their way to a supermarket.

"Should you be out in public without your protection detail?" She asks her mother from the backseat.

"I haven't left my protection detail." She laughs, Quinn just looks confused until her mother points towards her father.

"I am dating one of the top NCIS agents in the world, he is more than enough protection for me, plus I was also a field agent. So I have a few tricks up my sleeves." Quinn nods that she understands and they proceed with the rest of the food shopping in peace.

They get back into the house and Quinn starts to prepare her homemade tomato soup. She lets the base sauce cool and mix in the fridge for a little while. She sits down at the table and continues to sketch ideas of her parents wedding. A timer goes off at noon and she puts the base of the stove and starts to let it boil. She resets the timer before turning back to the table. She starts to sketch again when her mom interrupts.

"How is the food coming along?" Quinn looks up to see her mother leaning against the kitchen door watching her.

"Well once it starts to boil then we can add the rest of the ingredients then let it simmer until we serve it. And the sandwiches will have to wait until around dinner time, and I need to know who wants what. So for now, we just need to wait. Why?"

"I was wondering if you and I could have our first mother to daughter conversation. That and I want to ask your opinion on something I was thinking about."

"Sure." She smiles. She flips the sketchbook closed as she walks over and sits down next to her.

"Well, first things first. I am not sure how to be a good mother. So if I make a mistake, don't hold it against me."

"Mom, the fact that you are having this feeling tells me that you will be better than you think. All mothers have this fear; the only difference between you and them, is that you didn't give birth to me."

"Thank you, the words won't help at this moment, but the fact that you pointed it out to me helps me a lot. The next thing I wanted to ask you, is have you had any self-defense training?"

"Only the three week unit, we did last year in my PE class. Why?"

"I keep having this feeling in my gut, that something will happen to you if you don't know how to defend yourself. Do you mind if I set up some lessons with Ziva?"

"Mom you do whatever you need to do to make sure that I am safe. Plus if Ziva does it, I'll bond with her and through her maybe the rest of the team."

"Well you can put Tim out of that list, if Abby likes you then so will Tim. They are like peas in a pod some days. But they don't want to break rule 12." Mom laughed.

"Rule 12?" Quinn was confused, to say the least.

"One of the many rules your father has created over the years. The rules include what to do about lawyers to how to handle apocalyptic situations. Rule 12 is: Never date a co-worker, or something along those lines." She was still laughing, though it was now closer to giggling then a full belly laugh.

"Oh, Dad's strange. Just throwing that out there. You said you wanted to ask me something; was that it?"

"No, I was wondering what I should do about the fact that I don't live in the same house as my daughter and her father."

"Umm, stop that as soon as possible. If you tell people that they're going to think that you are no longer together."

"True. Should I talk to him about this?"

"You are moving through all the steps of a relationship, even if you only breeze through them. So talk to him, but don't be disappointed if he wants you to have your own space. Plus he might not want to live in the same house until your married. I hope that's not the case, or that that stage happens soon, but it's up to him."

"That doesn't help, Quinn."

"Sorry. How about this: you live at your house during the week and here on the weekends for a few weeks, until I get settled into a routine at school and Dad adjusts to his new position. Otherwise I think it might be too much too soon."

"Now that does help. Thank you."

Just then Quinn could hear the bot of soup on the stove start to boil. She leapt up from her seat and added the rest of the ingredients and stirred, before turning the heat down to let the soup simmer for the next couple of hours. Just as she finished her Dad came up from where he'd been in the basement since they got home.

"Quinn, can I get your help down here?" She nodded and followed her father down the stairs and over to his workbench.

"What's up?" She asked, hopping up on the stool.

"I was thinking of building a new bed for me and Jen, and that when we finish it, I'll ask her to move in full time." He pulled some plans and wood color pieces over.

"We?" She queried.

"I was hoping you would help me with the painting and detail stuff. I can make the bed by myself, I've done it before for my father before I was sent to Desert Storm. I just wanted to know if you wanted to add some of the detail work to it?"

"Okay, how much of the conversation did you hear?" She asked, highly suspicious of her dad's actions, after the conversation he could have overheard.

He tired to avoid answering her question, but Quinn pinned him with a glare that was just like his and he found himself, begrudgingly answering her question.

"I heard a little bit about you getting Defense lesson from Ziva, and the bit about her asking if it was too soon to move in here."

"Okay, thank you for your honesty. Now who said she had to move here? Does she live in an apartment or something?" Quinn was honestly curious about her mother's place of living.

"No, she doesn't live in an apartment. She lives in the family Brownstone."

"So the place is bigger than here?"

"Yeah."

"Then why would she want to move to someplace smaller?"

"Because of the ghosts in her house."

"And this place doesn't have ghosts? Please Dad; this place has the ghosts of my biological mother, my older sister and any of the exes that you've had living here with you."

"You're right. What should I do; I don't want her to live away from us for too long?"

"Talk to her. And I would be happy to help you build this bed in any way I can. Now let's head up there and get ready for the team, Ducky and Abby's arrival."

They headed up the stairs and into the kitchen. Jethro headed for the stairs to shower while Quinn stayed in the kitchen to watch the soup, making sure it didn't boil over or something.

Jen took one look at Jethro, then at Quinn, before getting up and following Jethro up the stairs.