Alice Duranty punched her car horn angrily. Late for the first day of her new job. Great. Though she didn't really understand why she had changed jobs. She was happy and pleased with her old job; so was her boss happy with her. Sigh. Guess she never could back down from the promise of more adventure, not that she didn't have enough already.

She knew she was late, but she was also hungry. She drove to a drive-thru that was en-route to her new office and purchased a coleslaw sandwich which she stuck in her mouth, and proceeded to drive with both hands. Better to go late on a full stomach, than go late and grovel for food there.

She parked her car by a two storied building which gave off the vibes of a pastel cottage. She went in, and saw that the bullpen was empty. 'Ah,' she muttered to herself. 'Not late at all.' Seeing that no one was here, she wondered what she should occupy herself with. Maybe a bagel, when she heard a whizzing voice behind her. Alice turned slowly to face a contraption with a screen at face-level. The face of the woman she had seen on her interview filled the screen. 'Miss Lange,' she said immediately. 'Hetty will do, Miss Duranty. How good to see you. Late.' Alice turned tomato red. She muttered indecipherable about traffic.

'Well, late better than never. Follow me, please.' The razor scooter thingy that had a screen moved towards the bullpen which had one empty desk. 'This is your desk,' the screen turned. 'There is some paperwork left, about your job, I expect it to be completed by lunch.'

She gave out a long sigh and slid into a chair which wasn't meant for her slouchy back, but that of fit, athletic agents. She looked at the desks around hers. One was neat, with a few photos that she did not look at; that would be an invasion of privacy. The desk next to that was loaded with files-she guessed that the person sitting there was a procrastinator, who hated paperwork. The desk opposite that was messy with no inch to spare, and the desk next to that was extraordinarily neat. Just the laptop that was there at everyone's desk, and a pen stand.

Sam and Callen came in early, and saw a woman sitting in a desk that had been added to the bullpen. Her name plaque said 'Ms. Alice Duranty.' Not Agent- Ms.

'Hell-o,' Callen said. Alice's auburn hair cascaded down a little below her shoulders. She had a square jaw, slightly hollow cheeks and shallow eyes.

Alice smiled as Callen introduced himself. 'So, G? That's it?' she asked incredulously. Callen nodded. Alice chuckled. Callen said, 'One thing that I couldn't help but notice, your name plaque says Ms., not Agent.' Alice's eyes widened and fell. 'That, is because,' she said hesitating, 'I am not an Agent, but a journalist.' Sam raised his eyebrows. 'Why exactly do we need a journalist? Are you going to do a story on us?' He looked up, and raised his hands, demonstrating a camera frame, and said overdramatically, 'NCIS: Unspoken Heroes of the country.'

Alice let out a short laugh. 'Umm... No, I don't think so. I guess I have been hired... because I chase stories...' she said sheepishly, 'I can read lies... and I can get information. I have contacts.' Sam chuckled and picked up a newspaper.

'Chinese Prime Minister meets with US President. Discusses nuclear plans. Live press conference to be aired today.' He read out the second page headlines. Alice smirked without looking up as she filled in another form. 'You do know that that's lies, right?' she asked him. He juggled his head. 'Maybe. I know that, but I don't know how much of that is lies, and how much the truth.'

'Well, that particular article you're reading, the "live press" was shot two days ago.' Alice said candidly.

Sam raised his eyebrow. 'And that doesn't bother you? Being in a profession that is so full of lies?'

Alice looked up. 'Well, it is ad maius bonum. For the greater good. If that press was actually live, imagine everything terrorists could have known. Besides, you're a federal agent who specialises in undercover work. It would be highly hypocritical of you to comment on my work.' She said defensively.

'What would be highly hypocritical?' Kensi said as she walked in and dumped her bag on her desk. Deeks followed her and quietly hung the bag on a hook. Kensi hated it if he messed with her stuff. She liked things to be within reaching distance.

'Sam commenting on journalism as a profession full of lies.' Callen said quickly.

'Why would you be talking about journalism?' Deeks said as he settled down on his chair.

'Ms. Duranty here is a journalist.' Sam said to shaggy haired man beside him.

Deeks looked at the lady and offered a hand. 'Oh. Hi. I'm Deeks.' He looked around. 'Just out of curiosity, why do we have a journalist in the team?'

Alice smirked. 'Oh I'm doing a piece on you guys.' She imitated Sam's moves. 'NCIS: Unspoken Heroes of our Country.'

Kensi chuckled. 'Kensi. Nice to meet you. Maybe you can help me bear, all the... testosterone around me.'

'Oh... well, we can help each other. There is no job that I have been on, that has more women than men.' She now went muttering to herself. 'It's really unfair. Maybe I'll ask Jason to do a piece on that.' She pulled out a leather reminder and wrote out something in shorthand.

'So, what have you worked on till now?' Kensi asked.

Alice looked up. 'Oh. Umm. Buenos drug cartel. An ISIS money laundering business.' She shuddered. 'And of course, I've been to Syria and Afghanistan.'