Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry…well you get the picture. I'm super sorry for taking soooo long to update! But I've been inspired recently and plan on writing a lot more. This chapter was written in two parts, so I'm not sure if it really flows all that well, so I hope you like it.

Please leave a review to let me know what you think!

Amelia woke the next morning to someone knocking on the bedroom door. Deciding it was too early she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. She had just started to drift back into unconsciousness as the knocking started again, this time louder and accompanied by a voice,

"Amelia, wake up, we have to leave soon," Gibbs called through the door. Amelia groaned in response, pulling the pillow over her head this time. Gibbs opened the door a little, "You have fifteen minutes to be downstairs and ready to go," he said. He walked away, leaving the door open. Amelia groaned again but sat up in bed. After a few minutes of sitting in the bed she finally threw the blankets off and stood up, shivering when the cold air hit her body. She quickly made her way to one of her suitcases and pulled out some clothes for the day. She hastily pulled on the navy blue sweater dress, black tights, and boots before going into the bathroom to brush her teeth and style her hair.

Gibbs was waiting for her in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee, of course. He checked his watch and saw that it had been fourteen minutes since he had come downstairs. As he set his coffee on the counter, intent on going upstairs, Amelia walked into the kitchen,

"You hungry?" he asked. Amelia shook her head no,

"Let's just go," she said quietly, heading for the door as she threw a bag over her shoulder. The quick drive to the school was spent in silence, which seemed happen a lot, Gibbs noticed. They pulled into the parking lot and Amelia read the sign,

"Public School?" she asked in slight confusion.

"Yes, do you have a problem with public school?" he asked.

"Well I've never been to one before. I've always gone to private school," she told him, sounding a little nervous.

"It will be fine, come on," Gibbs said, getting out of the car. Amelia took a deep breath and climbed out of the car and followed him into the three story brick building. The interior looked a little like her old school, but everything seemed to be a little less taken care of. Of course, she had gone to the best private school in Manhattan where parents shelled out thousands of dollars for their children to attend and as a result everything at the school was top quality. Here, everything was nice but nothing like her old school. She followed Gibbs to the office, noticing that everyone was in class and there were only a few people in the halls and none of them looked very friendly in her opinion. Arriving in the principal's office they took seats next to each other across the desk from the principal.

"So you're Mr. Gibbs, and you must be Amelia," he said, stating the obvious. Amelia could tell right away that she disliked this man, though she couldn't really figure out why.

"Agent Gibbs, actually," Gibbs corrected. The principal, Mr. Whitmore, nodded,

"Well I've been looking over the transcripts sent from Amelia's school back in New York and it seems as though you did very well," he said, addressing Amelia, "So I doubt you will have a problem here. Here is your class schedule and supply lists. And if you both could just sign a few forms then you will be all set," he told them, handing over the forms to be signed. While they were signing papers Mr. Whitmore went over some of the school rules. They seemed to be just like her old school minus the fact that she would not have to maintain a certain GPA to attend the school, not that this was much of a problem. Amelia had been a straight A student from the time they started actually assigning grades and she had no intention of that changing.

"Do either of you have any questions?" he asked. Neither one of them did, "So we will see you tomorrow Amelia. You'll like it here," Mr. Whitmore said, trying to reassure the obviously nervous fifteen-year old. Amelia smiled and nodded as they left. When they got into the car she looked at her class schedule more closely. Her day was filled with Chemistry Honors, English Honors, AP US History, Algebra Honors, Speech, Spanish Two, and Gym.

"That seems like a lot of work," Gibbs said, pointing toward the schedule. Amelia shrugged,

"Not really. Can we go to the store and pick up some stuff?"

"Sure." Gibbs pointed the car in the direction of the store, figuring that it would be a good time to go ahead and stock up on food, and since Amelia was with him she could pick out stuff that she liked. A while later they were walking out with multiple bags full of school supplies and food. She already had most of the stuff on the list but it seemed that here, each teacher wanted her to have a separate binder organized a certain way, which was definitely going to take some getting used to since she was normally able to organize everything exactly how she wanted it.

"You hungry?" Gibbs asked as he drove down the street.

"I guess," she said. Honestly she was starving, having skipped breakfast and couldn't wait to eat lunch.

"How about takeout? Or do you want something else?"

"Takeout's fine," she said shortly, concentrating on her phone. Gibbs sighed quietly; he was finding it very aggravating to get only simple answers from his daughter. So far they had not had a decent conversation, simply a few sentences exchanged before Amelia stopped talking again. He knew that it was probably just her way of processing everything, but it was driving him crazy. They picked up their food and went back to the house. After everything was unloaded from the car Amelia grabbed her takeout container and made for the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm gonna eat in my room," she told him as she kept walking.

"No you're not. All food stays in the kitchen."

"Seriously?"

"Yes seriously," he said, watching as she rolled her eyes, "I think we need to talk anyway."

"I don't really feel like talking," she said but made her way back into the kitchen anyway. At least she was being honest with him, he thought. The pair sat down at the table and began to eat their food, "You wanted to talk, so talk," Amelia said after a few minutes.

"Alright, first things first, I have rules and I expect you to follow them. I don't want any back talking or rolling your eyes at me, it's rude and I won't accept it. Your grades will stay up. Your curfew is nine on weekdays and ten thirty on weekends. Don't go somewhere without asking me first and make sure I can always get in touch with you."

"Fine," Amelia said, focusing on her plate for a minute before whipping her head back up, "Wait! 10:30? Do you think I'm five? I can stay out later than 10:30!" This was the first time Gibbs had seen any emotion in his daughter other than sadness and he was a little surprised, but this did not throw him,

"I believe that 10:30 is an appropriate curfew for you."

"But mom didn't make me come home until midnight!" She argued. He was a little shocked that her mother had let her stay out so late at such a young age, especially in the city where it could be very dangerous.

"Well you live in my house so you will follow my rules. Your curfew is 10:30 unless I say otherwise."

"That's not fair," she said moodily.

"I think it's plenty fair," Gibbs replied.

"Well I don't. Shouldn't I get some kind of say? I mean, it is my life!" Gibbs was a little surprised at the argument she was putting up over something that seemed so simple to him.

"You're right, it is your life. And I am now responsible for your life. It's my job to make sure that you are safe, and that's going to happen by you being home at 10:30 on weekends. Besides you are only 15, you need your sleep, not to be out running all over town." Amelia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest,

"This is ridiculous," she mumbled under her breath.

"Would you like to repeat that a little louder so that I can hear you?" Gibbs asked, having heard exactly what she had said.

"Not really," she said as she pushed her chair back from the table and moved to put her plate in the sink.

"Loose the attitude Amelia. You will come home when I tell you to or you can just stay here. It's your choice, but I'm not going to argue with you about it," Gibbs said firmly.

"Whatever," she mumbled as she made her way to the stairs.

"I expect the attitude to be gone by dinner," he yelled after her. His only response was the door slamming. He sighed and put his head in his hands. He was not prepared for this. He had lived through war, he put his life on the line every day chasing after criminals and being shot at, but he had a feeling that the teenager upstairs would really test him. After he cleaned up from lunch he went down to the basement and began working on the boat he was currently building.

Amelia had gone upstairs after lunch, mainly wanting to be alone, but had soon grown bored and decided to unpack some of her belongings. A couple hours later she stood off to one side looking at the room, trying to decide if anything was out of place. She had moved the bed to the middle of a wall, right under the large window, and made the bed with her sheets and blankets from New York. She had put away most of her clothes and shoes in the dresser and closet. There were pictures on the wall and books on the shelf. Her laptop was set up at the desk, along with most of her school stuff. She felt a smile come to her lips; everything had a place and was exactly where she wanted it. It was one thing in her life that she could control right now and it gave her a little sense of security, something she needed greatly.

I have a big question for my readers…Do you want Jenny to be alive in this story and involved in everything? I personally love stories where Jenny is still alive, but I enjoy them just as much without her. So please let me know what you think about this so I know how to proceed!