"Bailey, you look as if you've traveled a long way to find me. I bet you're tired."
She nods, silently.
"Maybe you would rather talk in the morning, after a hot shower, and some sleep?"
"Okay," she agrees.
He leads her up the stairs, and heads into a bedroom. He pulls out an old NIS t-shirt, and hands it to her. She takes the shirt from her, and he shows her the bathroom.
"Towels are in the cabinet, and there is a fresh toothbrush in the drawer. Help yourself."
She nods, and closes the door. Fifteen minutes later she exits the bathroom with wet hair in an NIS t-shirt. He meets her in the hallway. Without a word he leads her to his room. He flips on the light.
"I'll sleep on the couch. Let me know if you need anything."
Without a word she climbs into the bed. He settles himself on the couch, but he doesn't feel tired. He feels restless, and confused. He vacates the couch, and climbs the stairs. He pushes the door ajar, and finds the little girl sound asleep. For some reason, he chooses to lock the door, before returning to the couch.
When he wakes up in the morning he expects to find an empty house. Instead, he hears the dryer buzzing. He hears footsteps, and a door close. Moments later he hears a door open, and a girl reappear. He shifts into a sitting position. She takes a seat on the arm of the couch.
"Are you ready to tell me what you need my help with?" He asks.
"I just need your help."
"What about your parents?" He wonders.
She shakes her head, "My parents are dead. I have been running for months."
"From who?"
"They think that I am someone that I'm not."
"Who do they think you are?"
"A terrorist," she answers.
He furrows his brow, "I don't understand."
"They think I was one of them. I'm not."
"Bailey, you're not making any sense."
"My life doesn't make sense."
"Bailey, I don't understand. Why do you think that I can help you?"
"You wouldn't believe me, even if I told you."
"Try me," he insists.
"We should go see Abby."
"How do you know about Abby?"
"Please," she begs.
"Bailey, it is Saturday, she isn't at work."
"It is really important."
"Who has been taking care of you?"
"No one. I don't have anyone left. I haven't had anyone that mattered for a long time. Please help me."
"I don't know how I can help you. You aren't giving me anything to go on."
"Abby can help."
"Do you know Abby?"
"I've never met her."
Half an hour later Gibbs finds himself in Abby's lab. Somehow, despite her protest, she has beat him to the lab. She is standing at her computer tapping her fingers in irritation, when he enters the room. She spins around and looks at him.
"Gibbs what is going on? You drag me down here on my day off, and we don't even have a case?"
"I need a favor."
"What kind of a favor?"
He enters the lab, and shakes his head, "You tell me."
"I don't know. You are the one who called me down here."
He flashes his index finger, "Hold on." He returns to the doorway, and pokes his head out, "Come on."
A ten year old girl follows him into the lab. She stops next to him, without a word he lifts her onto the stainless steel table.
"She won't tell me why we're here. She said that you would know. Do you know here?"
Abby stares at her blankly, "No."
He turns to Bailey, "I need you to be straight with me. Why are we all here?"
"I need you to test my DNA," she explains, locking eyes with Abby.
Abby scrutinizes every detail of the ten year old's face. Without a word she retrieves a swab. She hands the swab to Bailey. Bailey runs the cotton end along the inside of her cheek, and hands it back to Abby.
"What database would you like me to run this against?" Abby questions.
"NCIS," she answers.
Abby begins running the test. Gibbs stares at the ten year old in confusion.
"Are you going to tell me why we are running your DNA against the NCIS database?"
"Everything will make sense once you do," she insists.
"And if it doesn't?" He raises his eyebrow.
"I don't have anyone else."
Abby clears her throat, "You know Gibbs, I think that a Cafpow might make up for the fact that you dragged me in here on Saturday."
He nods, "I'll go get you one. Keep an eye on her."
"Of course," Abby agrees.
Jethro leaves the lab, and heads for the elevator. Abby waits for the elevator door to close before she begins. She turns towards the ten year old sitting on her lab table. She leans up against the table.
"You know who I am, who are you?"
"Isn't that the million dollar question?" Bailey responds.
Abby grins, "What is your name?"
"Bailey," she answers.
"How old are you?"
"Ten."
Abby nods, and just stares at the girl.
"That's it? You aren't going to ask me a million questions?"
"The results will be back soon enough. I assume that we are looking for a familial match."
"Answers will only lead to more questions."
"It sounds as if you have learned that from personal experience," Abby remarks.
"Can we talk about something else?"
"Where are your parents?"
"Dead."
"I could narrow down the search, and it would take less time."
"How?"
"Based on your features such as hair, and eye color."
She shakes her head, "I know that it won't take you very long, either way."
"Why did Gibbs bring you here?"
"I asked him to."
"Where did he find you?"
"I found him."
"Why?"
"He will know how to help me."
"How can you be so sure?"
She pulls a chain from around her neck, out from under her shirt. She holds up the key at the end of the chain. She holds it up for Abby to see.
"A key to a safety deposit box?" Abby guesses.
"Yes."
"What is inside?"
"Answers."