"Hey, Kate!" Abby called as the car pulled into the parking lot. The perky Goth grinned as Kate and Grace stepped out of the car. "You must be Grace."
Grace stuck out her hand somewhat hesitantly but, Kate noticed, with less trepidation than she had shown meeting Kate. Abby's personality tended to make people comfortable around her.
"I'm Abby," she introduced herself. "I work with...Kate." The pause was so brief that Kate wondered if she had imagined it, but Abby apparently faced the same difficulty as Kate. How should Grace address her?
A problem for later, she decided. Right now was the time to keep the conversation in familiar territory. "Abby's our forensic specialist. She works with everything from blood to ballistics to fibers. Oh, and a lot of our computer stuff."
"Cool," Grace nodded, and Kate felt she really meant it. Progress, she cheered inwardly. Baby steps.
"So," Kate announced, encouraged, "let's move you in!"
They spent half an hour just getting the large, awkward boxes up three flights of stairs and into the room Kate had cleared for Grace. After some humorous pushing, pulling, and squeezing (and one frightening incident involving sweaty hands and the law of gravity), they managed to get all three into the room not much the worse for wear. Panting slightly as they surveyed the depressing sight of boxes in an empty room, they wondered vaguely what to do next.
Kate turned to Abby to thank her for helping and began giggling quietly. Grace gave her a puzzled frown before looking at Abby and chuckling along. Abby, for her part, was trying valiantly but unsuccessfully to restrain her laughter. Before long, all three were in stitches and Grace had to sit down, she was laughing so hard. Abby's hair was in its usual pigtails, but the strenuous activity had shifted them so that one sprouted almost straight from the top of her head and the other hung limply from just below her ear. Sweat had trickled down her face, smearing her mascara and leaving dark tracks down her cheeks. Kate's hair stuck out in all directions and her face was bright red from exertion. Grace's hair, too, was wild; large chunks of it lay across the remnant of her part and a few brown-blonde strands streaked her face.
The girls' giggle-fest went on for quite some time, as such things do, because every time one person would start to get a grip on themselves, something else would strike their funny bone and set them off again. Finally they arrived at a mutually sober moment and managed to stop laughing.
"Well," Abby began, after a few moments of relative silence, "is there anything else I can help with?"
"I don't think so," Kate answered, looking around. "Thanks, Abby. I appreciate your help."
"Yeah," Grace chimed in. "Me, too."
"Hey, no problem," Abby grinned. "I think it's awesome you two finally met. When Kate told me," she said to Grace, "I was so surprised, I dropped the beaker of reagent I was holding. Gibbs wasn't too happy about it," she cringed, "but it was cheap stuff."
Grace smiled. Kate wished Abby could stay around; it was so much easier to talk to Grace with someone else there. She knew she'd have to deal with Grace one-on-one eventually, of course, but for now she wished to delay the event as long as possible.
"Well," Abby concluded, "I guess I should get going. Grace, come by the office sometime. I'll show you around the lab."
"Thanks again, Abby," Kate said as she walked Abby to the door.
"No problem, Kate. See you next week."
Kate leaned against the door as she shut it, breathing deeply. This was it. Okay, she thought. One problem at a time.
"Hey, Grace?" she called as she reentered Grace's room.
"Yeah?"
"There's something I've been wondering," Kate hesitated, unsure of how exactly to frame the question. "What do you want to call me?"
Grace gave her a look, blank but for the slightly raised eyebrow. Anxious, Kate babbled.
"I mean, I understand if you don't want to call me Mom. After all, I'm not really your mom…yet. And that's fine. But I'm not really comfortable with you calling me just Kate. It's a little too informal, if you know what I mean, and, well, I'd just prefer it if there was some sort of honorific – "
"I understand," Grace said loudly, cutting Kate off. Kate grinned sheepishly. "So…Miss Todd is kind of formal; what about Miss Kate?" Grace proposed.
Kate grimaced. "Sounds like a kindergarten teacher."
"Yeah," Grace agreed, making a matching face. "What about…Aunt Kate?"
Kate considered it. Familiar, yet appropriate; it fit. "I like it." Something about the faint grin on Grace's face made her ask, "Not trying to fix me up with your Uncle Jack now, are you?"
Grace laughed and Kate felt a thrill run through her chest. I made her laugh! "No, he's kind of…taken."
"That's good. He's a little too much like my boss," Kate smirked. "Not really my type."
"Oh, yeah? What is your 'type'?" Grace asked, eyebrow raised. Her eyebrows could give Gibbs' a run for their money, Kate thought.
"Oh, I don't know. Tall, dark, and handsome?" Kate joked.
"So what's wrong with Uncle Jack? And, of course, your boss?" Grace probed with the cunning of a seasoned attorney.
"I never said they weren't easy on the eyes," Kate defended herself, much to Grace's mischievous delight.
"So," Grace started, getting slightly more serious, "wanna help me unpack?"