A/N HELLO! It's been a long time since I've done an update. This one is short but I hope you enjoy it. Action isn't my forte. So please forgive me if it's not what you hoped it would be.

June is busy. Two graduations! My oldest from grade 12 and my son from grade 8. And we have been house hunting...considering moving to a bigger house. I am not good with change.

Hope you are all enjoying the warmer weather.

Many blessings,

Jenny xo

Aimee weakly rubbed a cold hand across her face. Her eyes felt so heavy. She blinked her eyes several times trying to hold them open but they kept closing. Her hearing was muffled and it felt like she was underwater as her mind tried to make sense of the words and voices she was hearing. Nothing sounded familiar to her. The voices were all strange and muffled. She felt her hand shaking slightly as it brushed against her hair, or what used to be her hair. She felt a shaved spot and her eyes rolled underneath her lids. What happened to her hair?

"Are you thirsty, Aimee?" said a deep voice from above her.

Aimee again tried to force her eyes open but her lids would not cooperate with her. Instead, she nodded and felt around her to see if she could make sense of her surroundings. Her fingers found a soft, plush carpet and her hair lolled back and forth on it.

She felt rough hands cup the back of her head and lean her into a more upright position.

"Here, it's milk. Drink it," commanded the voice.

Aimee obeyed. She was thirsty and the cold liquid tasted good in her dry mouth. She wasn't even a big fan of milk because she tended to be a little lactose intolerant but she was willing to risk a sore stomach for the relief of her thirst. Soon the cup was taken away and she worked harder to keep her eyes open. Her eyelids fluttered some more and she started to make out the face in front of her. She opened her mouth to speak but her words came out in a slur.

"Don't try to talk just yet," commanded the husky voice once more and she felt herself being lifted off the floor.

She struggled against him unsuccessfully, not feeling like her limbs were her own. "Lemme down," she mumbled, her tongue feeling thick in her mouth. The man ignored her and set her down on something softer than the carpet she had been laying on before.

Aimee shoved the hands off her and pushed herself up farther onto a pillow. Her eyes finally focussed as she stubbornly scrubbed at them. She took several moments to look around the room and then at the person above her. It was the same dark-haired man who had been with her before. The FBI man. Her body felt so heavy that it was all she could do not to fall over as she tried to stay sitting up.

"How are you feeling?" The dark-haired FBI man asked. His voice sounded kind.

Another man strode into the room suddenly, his voice much gruffer sounding. "Is the kid awake yet?"

Aimee turned to see a larger man hovering over her. His hair was dark brown with grey salt and peppered throughout it. The man towered over the darker haired man but his eyes were not nearly as kind. Aimee shivered.

"Hey, kid…" the man said.

"Her name is Aimee," corrected FBI man.

"I know what her name is, you idiot. Get the hell out of here and let me talk with her by myself. She's my damned kid, not yours."

Aimee's eyes widened at the words and she felt her heartrate increase. Her eyes flew to FBI man with an immediate sense of pleading. That man had been somewhat kind to her and she didn't want to be left alone with Brody. She reached out to him in desperation as he stood to his feet. He didn't seem to take notice of her efforts.

Almeida gritted his teeth. "Brody, you don't give a crap about that kid so stop pretending you do. What the hell is going on it in that screwed up head of yours? If you want me to buy that you've had a sudden change of heart, it's not gonna happen. You've done too much to gain a gawddamned conscience now."

Brody glanced down at Aimee briefly before taking a few threatening steps towards Almeida.

Aimee screamed.

xXx—NCIS—xXx

Gibbs tried to clear his mind as he drove towards the warehouse district. It was on the outskirts of D.C., not a faraway drive but far enough. He knew that Tony and Ziva were closer to reaching the destination and would be ready for instructions once he arrived. They would be waiting to hear his strategy and, if his mind would stop racing, he might be able to form one. He always prided himself on being in control and able to devise a plan at a moment's notice. This time his mind was berating him so severely that he wasn't able to keep his head above water enough to form a coherent thought, let alone a strategy. To say he was exhausted would be a gross understatement. He had surpassed that long ago. He was operating on pure adrenaline, pretty much functioning with no sleep. He was lucky he could still stand on his feet.

Tears burned at the back of his eyes as he blinked fast to keep them at bay. He wasn't one to allow himself to succumb to tears, and he wasn't going to allow them to interfere now. He knew that everything that was happening was every bit his fault. He had more than truly accepted that fact already. He didn't want to allow himself to wallow in self-pity. There would be time later maybe but definitely not now. His father was right. He'd dropped the ball on parenting Aimee. He was always too busy second-guessing himself, wavering when he should have been resolute. It was a mistake he may never get a chance to rectify. He vowed he would do things differently if he was given a second chance.

Just then his phone rang loudly and Gibbs reached for it fully expecting it to be Tony notifying him of his and Ziva's arrival. Gibb was surprised to hear his father's voice on the line.

"Leroy?"

Gibbs' heart picked up speed in his chest. Was Janessa okay? Why would his father call him out the blue like this?

"Dad? Is something wrong? Is Ness okay?"

"No, no, everything's fine, Leroy. I just wondered if you had a moment to chat with your ole man."

Gibbs let out a weighty breath that he didn't realise he'd been holding. Fear of something else happening always weighed heavy on him.

"You making out okay, dad? I know it's a lot of work watching Ness, and Abby is held up helping me…"

"No worries, Leroy. Janessa is fast asleep. The little tyke was exhausted after being at the zoo most of the afternoon."

Gibbs nodded, not really thinking that his father wouldn't be able to see the gesture. He kept his eyes on the road even as he held the phone to his ear.

"What's up, dad?" asked Gibbs, expecting the worst, and/or possibly another lecture. His father had perfected them throughout the years.

"Well, son, I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"Sorry," echoed Gibbs, blinking in confusion.

"Yah, you heard right, Leroy and you don't need to sound so damned surprised about it. I'm man enough to admit when I'm wrong."

This time Gibbs rolled his eyes, knowing that if his father could see it, the older man would not have been impressed.

"You're a good father to those girls. You handled things with Janessa really well today, and I know you do your best with Aimee. I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time about it. "

Gibbs felt tears burning behind his eyes, and he swallowed the thick lump growing in his throat before speaking again. Sometimes he longed to talk to his dad like a son to a father, and not that superficial nonsense that he'd become so good at through the years. He longed to be able to let down his guard and be comforted. He was tired, and sometimes he wanted to just let go with someone to pick him up. It was hard to be the one everyone else depended upon. Only now wasn't the time for him to lose his edge as much as he was on that precipice.

Gibbs forced back the overwhelming emotions building up. "I can't talk now, dad," he managed to say through the thickness in his throat. The words came out much more gruffly than he meant them to but he let them linger not knowing how to recover.

Silence answered him as he held the phone to his ear. His father and he had had many rough years in the past, not always seeing eye to eye about much of anything. He knew his father loved him, and he was pretty sure the older man knew he loved him as well but words just never came easy for either one of them.

"I can't talk…" Gibbs reiterated more forcefully and ended the call abruptly, tossing the phone onto the seat beside him. Gibbs rubbed his temple and shook his head to clear it. He didn't have the time or the energy to be dealing with anything but the business at hand.

He forced himself to concentrate and was soon lost in what he knew. Time escaped him and he was ready when he arrived on scene. Tony and Ziva were waiting for him in the designated place when they all heard the blood-curdling scream.

xXx—NCIS—xXx

Riley exhaled a long drawn out breath before he made his move. He'd been watching events unfold for quite a while now so he was ready. He didn't know much about the men in the room except it was clear they hated each other. When Brody made his move to attack Almeida, Riley took that opportunity to make his move. At the same time, Aimee began to scream at the top of her lungs. It was a primal scream, one of complete terror. Riley hesitated for a moment but not long enough to be dissuaded from his agenda. He meant to take both men out while they were unaware of his presence. Riley swung out of his hiding spot in the ducts above, knocking both men to the floor. Neither man saw him coming. In an instant, Riley was on his feet throwing punches. Aimee continued screaming in frightened horror.

"What the hell!" screamed Brody, taken completely off guard, blocking the blows and trying to gain the upper ground.

Riley answered with a right hook to his jaw, violently slamming Brody's head to the floor. Almeida managed to find his footing, taking a swing at Riley in return.

"Aimee," shouted Riley who took several hard punches to the face. "Run! Get out of here!"

Aimee stopped screaming and weakly got to her feet. Her hands were shaking as she watched the three men fight. Her eyes widened when she saw Brody reach for a weapon on his waist.

"He's got a gun, Riley!" screamed Aimee, realising who he was. A rush of adrenaline hit her and she scrambled towards Brody.

Riley took another hit to his face, sending him stumbling backwards. He kept his footing and jumped at Almeida who lost his balance and landed on Brody, knocking the weapon from his grasp.

Aimee saw the gun and went for it but not before Almeida grabbed it. Time seemed to come to a standstill as Riley saw Almeida grab the gun and fiercely backhand Aimee out of his way. Aimee went flying across the room and landed with a thump hitting her head on the wall. That little girl did not move again but crumpled to the floor like a ragdoll. Riley fully expected the dark-haired man to turn the weapon on him but he didn't. Instead, Riley was shocked when the man turned the weapon on Brody instead.

Almeida looked at Riley and held a hand up in his direction. "My name is Rick Almeida, and I'm with the FBI. Stand down!" he commanded.

Riley froze, his eyes wide, not understanding what was happening. The FBI was already here?

Almeida turned in Brody's direction. "Get up!"

Brody rose to his feet, his face red with anger. "What the hell are you doing, Almeida? Shoot the bastard!"

"Shut up."

Brody frowned as he stared down the barrel of the gun but then noticeably relaxed. "You're not going to shoot me, Rick, now gimme the damned gun!"

Riley's heart was pounding hard in his chest as he looked at Aimee lying still on the floor. The fact that she wasn't moving frightened him. How hard had she hit her head? Riley made a move towards her while keeping his eyes on the man with the gun. Almeida nodded his head briefly like he was giving his permission so Riley collapsed to his knees to see to Aimee. His hand went gently behind the still child's head and Riley's heart skipped a beat when he felt the warmth and stickiness of blood assault his fingers. Aimee was injured worse than he anticipated. Riley looked up at the two men and took in their hostile demeanours. His instincts told him that the situation was volatile and could change in a heartbeat. His gut screamed at him to get Aimee out.

"What's your game, Brody?" shouted Almeida stepping closer to the older man.

Brody chuckled, taking another step towards Almeida. "There is no game. There is only a plan. Gawd, all I wanted was a little time with my kid, for Pete's sake. Is that a friggin crime? I have no agenda here."

Almeida took a step back, keeping the weapon trained on Brody but his hands were shaking.

Riley carefully scooped Aimee up into his arms, being careful to support her head. Blood soaked into his shirt. Riley had to keep reminding himself that head wounds bleed. A lot. It was normal and not necessarily a sign of serious injury. But he was frightened nonetheless.

"I'm leaving," Riley announced sounding braver than he felt. He hoped that the guy with the weapon would let him.

"You're not taking my kid anywhere!" shouted Brody suddenly angry and taking a menacing step towards Riley. "Who the hell are you anyway?"

"Shut up, Brody," hissed Almeida taking a step closer to Brody. Keeping an eye on the older man, Almeida ushered Riley to leave. "Get her out of here, kid. Take her to NCIS and ask for Agent Gibbs; he'll know what to do."

"You're not going to kill me, Rick," said Brody, speaking loudly with calm assertion.

Riley began to make his way towards the door but Brody quickly stood in front of him as Almeida continued to train the gun on him. Riley could see the FBI agent's hand shaking. The whole scene made no sense to Riley, and he didn't trust either man to be predictable. A trained FBI agent would not hesitate to shoot. Why was the agent vacillating?

"Shoot me or give me the damned weapon, you imbecile!" hissed Brody taking another step towards Riley while still looking at Almeida.

Riley's mouth was as dry as cotton as he stood by the door with Aimee in his arms. Almeida was holding his weapon on Brody but looking very tentative and torn which made Riley uncertain if he could trust him.

"I don't get you, Brody," said Almeida in a soft voice. "I've worked for you for over 10 years and you were good. Damned good! I was proud to work for you. I would brag to my friends about working for David Brody. Just saying your name brought me so much prestige."

Riley shifted Aimee's dead weight in his arms. His mind was spinning as he tried to come up with some kind of plan. Blood dripped from the back of Aimee's head onto the floor but the child remained lifeless in his arms. Riley silently reminded himself that head wounds bled like crazy. It meant nothing, and it was better Aimee was unconscious otherwise he'd have had a harder time keeping her calm.

"I don't know why I was such a fool to believe you," continued Almeida, almost spitting the last words out in vindictive anger.

Brody smiled an almost eerie smirk. His voice was ominous as he began to speak. "It is me who is the fool. The fool to believe that YOU understand what's at stake here. I gave up my life, MY CAREER for this cause. Hell, I've sacrificed my own flesh and blood for this…and you have the gall to…"

In that moment, the door burst open startling the two men into silence. Riley dropped to the floor, shielding Aimee with his body. He looked up to see the two NCIS agents he'd seen before and followed behind them was Agent Gibbs.

"No one move!" commanded Gibbs, his weapon trained on Brody.

Time seemed to stop as Riley held his breath. Relief flooded him as he saw the older salt and peppered haired agent assume control of the room. It was over. He was safe. Aimee was safe. Things would be okay.