Chapter 2! I was so excited about this story that I began writing this before I posted the first chapter. Again, feel free to leave comments, reviews, 'I love this,' 'this sucks,' whatever. Suggestions and requests for one-shots are welcome, too. I'll do my best to write something for you.

The night after I had gotten the number—it was a Saturday, one of the few that the Major Crimes Response Team had off, I gathered, from the relieved looks of the others when Gibbs told us he was giving us the day off—I sent Tim a text message.

Hi. How are you?

Good. Fine. Tired. You?

I'm okay. Gibbs gave us the day off, so I took my daughter out to have a playdate with our neighbor's son. She's napping now.

Awww…what's her name?

Raegan. She is my daughter by my deceased husband. She's only two months old, but she can already hold a toy by herself if I give it to her and has enough attention and focus to be able to follow a mobile or bat at toys that are above her head. She's making very good progress, or so her pediatrician tells me.

That's great. How's the D.C. team?

They're all fine. Gibbs is as much the stubborn fatherly figure as per usual, Kate and Tony bicker like an old married couple (sometimes, I wish they'd just kiss and get it over with), and Ducky and Palmer are usually in the dungeons 99.8 percent of the time unless they're out in the field with the rest of us. I don't see them too much.

How well are you doing with the learning curve?

Well, I know about how to make contact with subjects, did that with LSP, but my investigating skills are a little rusty, so I'm having to re-learn some of that.

It's okay. You'll pick up on it quickly.

You think so?

You're brilliant. Your deafness has no bearing on that.

Thanks, McGee.

It's Tim. And you're welcome.

Can I ask you something? It's really been bothering me.

Sure. What is it?

Why are we even doing this? Why did you give me your phone number?

Why did you send me a text message then? Why I did this is because you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I couldn't even focus with you there.

You haven't seen a lot of women then if I'm the most beautiful one you've ever seen.

Maybe I haven't, but that doesn't mean that you aren't the most beautiful one.

Why do you think that?

Well, it started when you looked up at me with those beautiful green eyes. They reminded me of green marble with all the shades of green swirled in. My green is flat—yours is dynamic and changes with the light. Even though you never spoke, your personality burst out of you like a rainbow. It was that rainbow that drew me to you like a moth to a flame.

Awww…that's sweet. And my having a child already doesn't bother you?

No. Raegan being here doesn't bother me. She's only three months old, so she probably doesn't remember her father, and won't remember me until she's about a year old. If our relationship even lasts that long.

What are you talking about?

You live in Maryland, I live in Virginia. We'd have to do it long-distance, work with our personal schedules, Raegan going back and forth, and NCIS…It may not work. But we can try it and see.

Well…promise me something. You won't hurt Rae in any way. You can hurt me all you want, but you hurt my child and I will murder you. She doesn't deserve to get hurt for what I do. She's lost enough—she lost her dad, Adam.

Understood. I promise. I'm so sorry for your loss—really.

I smiled, satisfied with the promise. Norfolk is pretty far from Seabrook and D.C, though. It's about a three hour drive or not even an hour flight. Visiting would be difficult, with a three month old baby in tow, and though I've flown here, there and everywhere else in my life, I have no idea how Rae will react to that long of a drive or even a flight. I've only flown with her once, when I moved here. She did okay for about half that flight.

She seems like such a good girl from what you told me. It's only a fifty minute flight, and I can be there waiting for you at the airport in case she's fussy. Which reminds me, how do you feed her? Like what do I need to have for her if she comes to visit?

I breastfeed her, so you don't need anything other than maybe an extra can of formula in case I struggle to produce, which can happen if I'm in a new place, stressed or aggravated. Other than that, probably just a Pack 'n Play and a crib for her to sleep in when we come to visit. I'll pack up and bring everything else she needs when I come.

Okay. What about next weekend? Is that okay with you?

Well, we'll see. It depends on whether Gibbs gives us the weekend off, which considering that he's given us this weekend off is unlikely to happen.

Hm…good point. What if I come and visit you then? You can work and I can look after Raegan during the day, so you don't have to pay for daycare for her.

I'm not letting you look after Rae by yourself, but you can come next weekend if you want to. Saturdays at NCIS are more relaxed than during the week, so I can bring her with me if I need to. She'll be fine.

You think so?

Yeah. Our forensic scientist, Abby, has been wanting to have a playdate with Rae. She's one of the strangest people ever, honestly. She's a Goth, but like an overly happy Goth, which is weird. I was told that she sleeps in a coffin with a teddy bear. Like me, she has a caffeine addiction, but hers is to something called Caf-Pow. It's not something I had ever heard of before I met her.

This is going to sound really weird, but I dated Abby before. It was long before now, long before I ever joined NCIS. She is very strange, but also very sweet. Our relationship was very intense, for me, and then she told me that she loved me like she loved puppies.

And you said, 'I'm done,' because you loved her differently than she did you? While we're on it, intense? Explain 'intense' to me. Like sexually intense?

Yeah. Very sexually intense.

That's okay. Were you just nervous? I get nervous, too, with sex, probably because I'm not very good at it.

What makes you think that? You have a child with Raegan's father. Apparently, he liked however you do sex enough to get you pregnant.

Not necessarily. Pregnancy depends on biology.

Well, I know. Was Adam good at it?

He was. All I had to do was just follow him. That was easy.

Ah. So you get nervous when you have to initiate it?

Yeah. I can't flirt or initiate anything at all.

Not everyone is good at everything, you know.

I know. Talk again tomorrow?

You got it. Goodnight, Emily.

Goodnight, Tim.

I smiled, as I placed my phone on the table next to me, covering up with a blanket that was on the back of the couch. Raegan was sleeping in her crib next to me—she was a little sickly, so I had moved her crib into the living room and slept next to her, in case she got fussy. My alarm flashed to wake me up, and it was set to go off every three hours, so Rae would get fed.

The alarm did go off at three A.M; I got up, checked on Rae, pumped, fed her, and laid her back down. Thirty minutes later, she was crying her little lungs out, was burning up, and spitting up. I decided to take her to the E.R. after figuring out that her temperature was 101, rather than call Ducky or Palmer at this hour. All I did was sent Gibbs a text message.

Gibbs, it's Emily. Raegan's sick. I'm taking her to the Emergency Room. Probably won't be at work tomorrow. You can rip me a new asshole later.

I packed Rae's go bag, grabbed my phone, wallet, and truck keys before heading out. It was pouring the rain, but I didn't care. I put my sick baby in her carseat, and rushed her to the E.R. The doctors admitted her immediately to the pediatric ICU, and I was left outside in the waiting room for several hours.

It was seven thirty the next morning when Gibbs came into the waiting room and sat next to me. By that point, I was utterly exhausted, sagging in my chair, but I was not leaving my baby. No way. He let me lean into his side, and signed to me. Do you know anything yet?

No. Nothing yet. She's got a dangerously high temperature for a two month old, was spitting up, and crying her little lungs out. Could be just about anything.

And you've been sitting here by yourself?

Yep. I wasn't leaving my baby. No way, no how.

Mother of the year.

Oh, please. There are mothers who would do more severe and serious things for their children.

How long have you been here?

That would be about four hours. I rushed her in at 3:30 this morning.

Why did you not send anyone a message and tell them you were here?

I didn't want to bother anyone.

Well, Ducky and Palmer will be here in about thirty minutes. They'll sit with Raegan until noon. You go back home and get some sleep.

I can't sleep. I'm worried sick.

Try. Humor me.

Gibbs, I'm being serious. How would you feel if you had a sick child, didn't know why they were sick and didn't know what you could do to help them get better?

I'd be worried senseless, too. Just like you. But you sitting here and staring at the wall isn't helping you, either. At least go over to the corner and take a power nap.

You'll wake me if anything changes?

I will personally wake you up if anything changes, Emily. Now, go nap.

Okay. I snuck into the back corner of the waiting room, covered myself up with my jacket and went quickly to sleep…

"Jethro, what are you doing here?" Ducky asked, while Palmer stood next to him.

"Emily sent me a message about Raegan, so I came to sit with her. She was staring at the wall and shaking. Looked a bit like she'd toss her cookies, so I talked her into going to take a nap."

"Where is Raegan?"

"Still in the pediatric ICU. Temperature was at 102 when Emily took it just before she brought her here."

"That is dangerously high for a child her age. Emily made a good decision."

"No one knows anything yet. Emily sat here by herself for four hours, which is ridiculous. I got pissed off at her for that—she could've texted us for help."

"When did she get here?" Palmer asked.

"Three thirty this morning. Emily rushed her in and had been sitting out here since then. She was driving herself crazy worrying."

"As any parent would be, Jethro." Ducky pointed out.

"Yeah. So I told her that staring at the wall wasn't helping her and to go take a nap. She didn't argue with me, surprisingly enough, and she's been in that corner, asleep, since then."

"She needed the rest, Agent Gibbs." Palmer cut in.

"I agree, Mr. Palmer." Ducky answered for Gibbs, who just glared at the assistant M.E. spectacularly. "Anyway, Jethro, Mr. Palmer and I have come to help our newest Probationary Agent out; we will sit until noon, and then Anthony has volunteered to sit for the evening, and Kate is to sit with her tonight."

"You have got her pretty well covered, then, Duck."

"Yes. We do need someone to pick up food for Emily. And food with some nutritional value, not that garbage you normally eat, because she has to keep a healthy diet."

"Why?"

"She breastfeeds Raegan—I overheard her telling Agent Todd, so it's very important that she maintains a healthy diet or she'll stop producing."

"That was a piece of information I could've gone the rest of my life without knowing, Duck."

"Well, you did ask the question." Ducky sat down in the hard plastic chair across from Gibbs, and Palmer sat next to him. Emily was still laying over in the chair in the corner, snoring just a little, with a blanket over her lap. The doctor came out from the ICU, Gibbs walked immediately over to Emily, and shook her awake.

The doctor came out for Raegan. Gibbs signed to me, before turning to the doctor and explaining. "Raegan's mother is deaf. She will need a translator."

"Would you like to go back and speak with the doctors with her?"

She wants you to go back to speak with the doctors. Would you like me to go with you to translate?

Yeah. You can come with me, if you want.

Okay.

I got up and Gibbs walked back with me. We walked down the long hallway that separated the waiting room from the staircase that led downstairs to the pediatric ICU rooms. My girl was in ICU room 5, and it had a pink tag taped to the door that read:

Raegan Grace Campbell

Age: 3 mos.

Symptoms: Fever, Spitting Up, and Crying

I slowly walked into the ICU room, after soaking my hands in disinfectant in case I accidently touched her. Rae's little body was packed carefully in ice, little tiny oxygen tubes running up her nose and taped to her face. I wanted to cry, honestly, but I knew that I couldn't touch her. The doctor came in, and sat down in the hard. plastic chair next to her. Gibbs and I stood next to each other against the wall, as she explained it to us. Raegan has a severe double ear infection, which with her age can cause a severe fever. She'll be fine. We'll keep her tonight for observation, give her some Motrin, and look at her temperature again.