A thousand apologies for not updating last week, I truly did try but travelling from one country to another and then from one side of a country to the other is very time consuming. I then decided to wait a week to make sure that the material I had was going to be good enough. So to make up for no chapter last week, this one is extra long (7,280 words :o).

A huge thank you to everyone who has read this story so far, and an even bigger thank you to those who are following and/or have made it a favourite. That keeps me going :).

Enjoy xxx

Chapter Four

There was a persistent, steady and downright annoying beeping that was echoing just beyond the edges of her consciousness. It matched the pounding in her head…wait, she could feel her head. And promptly wished she couldn't because oh great gods, that hurt. And the blasted beeping was still there. Her fingers twitched, catching on the sheets that were twisted around them. Wait, what? Why could she feel sheets? The last thing she remembered…gods above, that beeping really needed to stop…was being at…oh crap. The airport!

Kimberly wrenched her eyes open, gasped when the light seared into her brain, and promptly shut them again. The glare caused the pounding in her head to intensify and bile to rise in her sore throat, why is my throat sore? but the click of a switch echoed across the room and the light that was still seeping beneath the cover of her eyelids vanished.

"Sorry. We had no idea when you would wake up." The voice was soft, soothing against the pounding in her head. Her eyes opened slightly, her vision taking a while to clear. Finally she was able to focus in on the owner of the voice. "A-Agent Callen?" She groaned softly; her voice caught in her throat and she coughed, trying not to move her head too quickly. The sound of sloshing water reached her ears and a couple of seconds later she felt a straw being pressed gently against her lips. Lashes fluttered and her eyes finally opened again, focusing on the agent who was holding a cup of water with a straw against her mouth. Kimberly opened her mouth slightly and the straw slipped past her lips, allowing her to take a much needed drink without having to move her head too much. She swallowed slowly and the relief the cool liquid provided slipping down her throat was instantaneous.

Callen pulled the cup away and set it down on the table. He sat back down on the hard chair he had been sitting in since Kimberly had been brought in and gave the woman in question a smile. "How do you feel, Detective Taylor."

Kimberly bolted upright in alarm again, groaning softly as her head rebelled again. Callen couldn't help but laugh at her expression when she realised he was talking to her. "Christ above, don't do that. I thought you were talking to my uncle then." She fell back against the pillows with a groan, wincing as an ache in her back flared up suddenly.

"Don't you mean your boss?" There was a gleam in Callen's eye as he teased her, though in her state he was pretty sure she wouldn't catch it.

"Yeah…that's what I said. It's why I use Driscoll. My father's name." She rubbed her temple. "But call me Kimberly. Makes…makes everything so much eas…easier." She tried to pull herself up slowly into a sitting position to pick up the cup of water, but her back flared up with pain again and she gasped, stilling.

Next to her Callen shook his head, smiling slightly. "You truly are as bad as I am." He picked up the remote control for the bed, letting the head of it rise up to allow Kimberly to sit back somewhat comfortably. "Is that better?" She nodded slightly. "So how do you feel?"

Kimberly reached for the cup of water, taking a sip before answering. "I've felt better Agent. Fortunately, I've also felt worse."

"If I'm calling you Kimberly, you have to call me Callen." He chuckled. "You took one hell of a hit. Doc say's you were very lucky. From the height you fell, he was expecting your injuries to be much worse."

"Just how bad is it?" Kimberly coughed, having another drink. Gods, why was her throat so sore? "And when can I get out of here?"

Callen hesitated. "Well getting out of here might take a while. The doctors are probably going to want to observe you for a little longer." He saw Kimberly frown so he elaborated slightly. "You…you've been in and out of consciousness for nearly a day."

Kimberly's eyes widened and Callen was sure that if she could have, she would be shouting right now. "A day? What do…how?"

"Doc say's you have a grade 2 concussion. You were fully unconscious for about four hours, then you started to come around only to throw up all over a nurse and pass out again." Callen was grinning at the memory and Kimberly groaned, wandering if it had really been that bad. "You've been coming around a few more times; this is the first time you've been fully conscious and talking. Oh and not throwing up." Kimberly grimaced slightly; that would explain the taste in her mouth and why her throat felt so rough. "It's a relief you're finally lucid, it gets rather boring talking to an empty room." He waggled his eyebrows at her, letting her know he was joking. "From the way you've been moving in your sleep the doc was pretty sure you'd done something to your back. Nothing came up on the scans but when they checked a couple of hours ago they found massive bruising all down your back. They're pretty sure its deep muscle bruising and nothing else, but you're going to be sore as hell for a while. And you have also managed to fracture a bone in your left ankle, probably from when you landed. The rest is mostly superficial. Cuts, grazes and bruises etc. If they do let you go, you're going to have to be under observation, because of how long you were unconscious."

Kimberly sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes with the heel of a hand. "I don't know anyone here A-Callen. This entire excursion was only supposed to take a maximum of twenty-four hours. Now I've lost a day so god knows what the time is and I have no idea how or when I'm going to get home and my boss is going to kill me." Callen raised an eyebrow at her outburst and she sighed softly. "Sorry. I sound like a moody cow, but the truth is the lab simply cannot afford to have me stranded here. We are down too many people thanks to a bloody flu virus going around and have an overload of cases." She smiled wearily. "Like I said earlier, this trip wasn't supposed to happen until next week, but my boss suddenly tells me at seven in the evening that I'm catching an early morning flight out here because of the blasted Celtic Militia." Kimberly broke off, her brain suddenly catching up with her. "Oh crap."

"What?" Callen stared at her, not sure what was wrong now.

"Two things. Please tell me someone got hold of my bag."

Callen nodded, reaching behind him to pick up the bag his team had recovered at the airport. "Everything we gave you is in there. I've checked the files and nothing is missing. Your guns are both in there, cleaned and loaded." Now it was Kimberly's turn to raise an eyebrow. "What? I was bored." He put her bag down on the bed beside her. "What was the second thing?"

"Yeah. You said I've been unconscious for nearly a day?"

"About twenty one hours. It's just gone nine in the morning."

Kimberly groaned softly. "Great. Has…had anyone tried to get in contact with me?"

Callen noticed her hesitation and nodded slightly. He rummaged around in his jacket and pulled her phone out. "Yeah. When you collapsed we needed to get hold of your medical records. The only way to do that was to get hold of someone in New York. Before we could get into it though it started ringing. The caller ID said Mac." He broke off as Kimberly groaned loudly and he grinned. "Yeah, he was a little worried about you."

Kimberly snorted, then winced as the movement jarred her head and back. "Why do I get a feeling that's an understatement?"

Callen laughed. "He was all set for coming out here ASAP. Right up until someone on his end told him all of the airports have been closed. That's until it can be confirmed it isn't a terrorist attack. He told me to tell you to call him as soon as you wake up." He passed the phone over to her. "He seems very protective of you."

Kimberly smiled slightly, unlocking her phone. "Yeah, he is. He's my uncle, practically the only family I have. Christ he must be having a heart attack. Thank god Christina's with him." She sighed heavily, looking up at Callen. "So I'm guessing I won't be going home anytime soon. At least not until they open the airports back up."

He shook his head. "I wouldn't have thought so, no." He watched as she looked back down at her phone and saw her staring at a picture of a large group of people, her team possibly? "Look, if you really don't want to stay here and the doc lets you go, you can always crash as the office. We've got some great couches."

Kimberly looked back up at him with a cocked eyebrow. "Your super-secret office that is so secret you hold meetings with people outside of your agency in an old boatshed? That office?"

Callen laughed at her description. "Yeah, that'll be the place. There's always people coming and going there, so plenty of people can keep an eye on you. It'll be a lot more comfortable than staying here any longer than you need to, and I doubt the doc would want you to go to a hotel, just in case something happens."

She sighed heavily; he was right. She hadn't been awake all that long and already she was sick of the hospital. She didn't want to spend any more time there than she needed to, and she had already known a hotel would be out of the question. "What about your boss? She'd be okay with this?"

Callen laughed out loud at that. "She was the one who suggested it. And even if you say no, she will still find a way to get you there. Honestly? It's just easier to say yes. Hetty always gets her way."

Kimberly couldn't help but grin. This Hetty sounded a lot like someone she knew. "Well…okay then. Now do you have any idea when I can get out of here?" She shrugged at Callen's raised eyebrow. "What? I don't like hospitals. Are you telling me you do?"

"I didn't say anything," was his reply. "The doc should be in any minute now. And will probably tell you everything I just said."

"Fantastic." Kimberly rolled her eyes, then groaned and promptly shut them. "Okay, no eye-rolling. Not a great idea there K."

Callen was still chuckling when the door opened and a man wearing a white lab coat and dark blue scrubs entered the room. He looked to be in his late twenties, with short dark hair, a hint of a beard and clear green eyes. He was carrying a clipboard with a handful of papers attached to it, a stethoscope was around his neck, and the tag on his coat identified him as Alex Richardson.

"Hey there Doc." Callen grinned. "How you doing?"

"Exactly the same as I was two hours ago you idiot." Alex shook his head, looking over at his patient and noted her eyes were open, and finally alert. So that was the reason for Callen's good mood. Not necessarily a good thing. "Hi there Ms. Driscoll. I'm glad to see you're finally awake." He smiled as he made his way over to the bed.

"Oh god, that's nearly as bad as calling me Detective Taylor. Driscoll is my aunt. I'm T-Driscoll. And Detective. But Kimberly is fine."

The doctor nodded. "Callen told me as much, but I had to make sure. You've been out of it for quite a while, but you certainly seem more alert now than you did the last time I saw you." He smiled at her.

Kimberly sat up a little bit more, determined to ignore the ache in her back, and noted for the first time the fabric cast encasing her left foot. Huh, she hadn't even felt that when she woke up. She looked up at the newcomer. "Callen's already filled me in on my condition. Now I know I'm coming off as rude and I don't mean to, and I have advanced medical training so I know what you're going to say, but I have to ask. When can I get out of here?"

Alex laughed, setting his clipboard down on the table. "Well not just yet Kimberly. There are a few exams we need to conduct now you're awake. We're also in the process of updating your medical file, and I'm going to want to take you for an MRI, just to be on the safe side. Once all that is done, and if I'm happy with the results of your scan, we might be able to get you out of here."

Kimberly sighed heavily. "I thought as much. Great. Well, arguing with you isn't going to change your mind is it Doc so what's first then?"

Alex raised an eyebrow, looking over at Callen. "Wow, an associate of yours that doesn't try to escape as soon as they see me? I'm in shock Agent Callen."

Kimberly looked over at Callen with a small smile. "So we have a little bit of a reputation do we?"

Callen had the grace to look embarrassed. "I think I'm gonna step outside. I need to make some phone calls." He glanced at Kimberly. "Do you want me to call your uncle for you?"

Kimberly nodded, throwing her phone at him. "That would be great, thank you. Tell him I'll call him myself as soon as I can."

Callen nodded and she watched as he left the room in amusement. "Gee Doc, he almost acts like he's scared of you. What did you do to him?"

The other man laughed. "Nothing. He just doesn't like hospitals. Although it could be because he knows he technically hasn't been cleared for active duty yet." He noticed Kimberly's confused stare so elaborated a little. "I'm one of a few medical personal here who knows who and what Agent Callen and his team are. So whenever one of them is injured enough to warrant a hospital, yours truly has the task of taking care of them."

Kimberly nodded. "That makes sense. And I do not envy you your job in the slightest. Well then Doc, let's get on with it shall we?"

"Only if you call me Alex. I've got images of Bugs Bunny running around in a lab coat and scrubs in my head."

Kimberly laughed softly, wincing slightly as the ache in her head flared again and swallowed down the feeling of nausea.

"Alright Lieutenant, thanks. Keep us updated on any changes? Will do." Callen ended the call and slid the phone into his jacket pocket, rubbing a hand over his eyes and taking a sip from the bottle of water he had. God he could kill for a coffee, but he knew that Hetty really would do away with him. Until he had completed the medication he was on (thanks again CDC) he couldn't have any caffeine or alcohol.

The call to New York hadn't helped much. Kimberly's uncle had been determined to come out to LA and had demanded to talk to Kimberly. Eventually, once Callen had explained what was happening now, he had calmed down, but was insistent that he be kept in the loop on everything. And wanted the number of Callen's boss. He was a little hesitant but eventually gave the man Hetty's contact number. She could deal with him. Callen ended the call soon after. He was jolted out of his train of thought at the sound of his phone going off again and he groaned. But tempted as he was to ignore it Callen knew somehow he would not be getting away with it.

Putting the bottle down he dug in his pocket for the offending piece of technology and pulled it out. Hetty. Great. She really was psychic. He tried to supress the sigh as he answered the phone. "Hey Hetty."

"Good morning Mr Callen. How is everything going at the hospital?"

"Okay. Alex Richardson's in with her now, going over some tests now that she's awake. I talked to him before she woke up though and he sounded positive about everything. The only thing he seems to be insistent on is the twenty-four hour observation and no flying until he clears her because of the concussion."

"I see. Well I imagine Dr Richardson is going over all of that now. I have just reassured Detective Taylor that his niece is in safe hands and we will let him know if anything happens."

Callen grimaced slightly at her words. "Yeah sorry for not telling you I gave him your number. He was insistent and before I could send you a message Lieutenant Peters called me."

"It is not a problem Mr Callen. Now, have you had a chance to talk to Ms Driscoll yet."

"Kimberly? No not yet. She had asked me why I had followed her yesterday when we were at the airport, but that was before FBI and LAPD finally stormed the building. Took them long enough."

"Yes, Granger is trying to get to the bottom of that as we speak. A team from the FBI is working with Mr Hanna and the rest of your team to find out who these perpetrators were and what they were trying to accomplish. Are you taking care of yourself Mr Callen?"

Callen rolled his eyes. Hetty was in her mother hen mode again. Fantastic. "Yes Hetty. I've managed to brush my teeth and everything." The silence that followed his comment was cringing.

"Very well. Bring her back here when she is discharged Mr Callen. I'm sure the FBI and LAPD will want to talk to her but we need to find out what is going on with that photograph."

"Sure thing Hetty. I'll let you know when I have an idea of when we are leaving."

Callen ended the call and stared at his phone for a minute wandering if it would go off as soon as he put it back in his pocket. "Callen." He looked up to see Dr Richardson walking towards him. Callen shoved his phone away and stood up to meet him. "Everything looks okay Callen. She's responded well to all the tests and her results were what I was expecting. She's being taken for an MRI but I'm confident that swelling we saw yesterday has gone down. She will have one hell of a headache for a while and flying is out of the question until I clear her. Hopefully it will only be a week, then she can come back in for a check-up and I should be able to clear her then."

Callen nodded. "Okay, how long will it be now?"

Alex shrugged. "Well it all depends on the MRI really. If it comes back clear then I will feel comfortable releasing her into your care. If anything comes up though, I would prefer that she stays here. It should be about twenty minutes until she's back from the MRI, and then I'll be back with the results in about an hour okay?"

"Okay then, I'll wait here for her to get back." Alex smiled and nodded before leaving and Callen sat back down, stretching his legs out with a groan. He had been in the hospital for far too long now and really wasn't enjoying it. Especially seeing as he was confined to one not all that long ago. Although it could be a little bit of guilt he was feeling, seeing as technically he should still be in a hospital himself right now. But he said he would wait here for Kimberly, and he knew that she didn't know anyone here in LA; if he left her now she would be on her own and that wasn't fair, especially after what she did at the airport.

Well that and the fact that he couldn't let her leave until they had found out the truth about that blasted picture. Callen pulled it out of his pocket and unfolded it, looking down once again at the photograph. What the hell was going on? They still didn't have an ID on the man in the picture, but none of them needed to run facial recognition on the two women. The younger one was definitely a younger Kimberly. The older one…Callen's blood still ran cold as he looked at her. How was this possible? Was Kimberly related to her? But they looked nothing alike, nor did they sound alike. So why was her picture in this woman's bag? None of this made any sense. And that was what Hetty wanted Callen to find out. If he could. If not, then it would be up to Hetty. And gods help this gorgeous Detective if it turned out she was hiding something. Callen stilled. Wait, what? Gorgeous? Where in the nine hells did that come from? Sleep deprivation. It had to be.

"Agent Callen?"

His eyes flew open. Huh…he could have been sure they had been open the whole time. Maybe he really did need to get some sleep. He looked up at the slightly familiar voice and saw a man he met yesterday standing in front of him. Fed. Great.

"And you are?"

Not so polite there Callen.

If the man was offended at all he didn't show it; instead he held out his hand. "Don Epps. We met at the airport yesterday."

Callen nodded, standing up again and shaking the man's hand. "Yes of course. Sorry, it's been a crazy…however long."

Don smiled slightly in agreement. "I've been working with your team, and your boss let us know that the woman, Kimberly, had woken up. I thought I would swing by and see how she's doing."

Callen fought not to raise an eyebrow at his statement. "Yeah she's awake, gone for an MRI at the moment. She had some swelling on her brain yesterday but the doc thought that was a result of the concussion. They wanted to wait twenty-four hours to see if she would regain consciousness before they decided on anything."

Don nodded. "Sounds fair. So how is she?"

"Coherent thankfully. The concussion's had her drifting in and out and throwing up most of the night but since she woke up a little earlier she's been fine. Gonna be sore as hell for a while and she won't be able to fly home until the doc clears her." Callen wasn't sure why he added that bit onto the end. He sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face and barely managed to supress a yawn. Something the Fed didn't miss.

"You look like hell. Have you slept at all?"

"You don't exactly look like a bucket of roses either. No, I'll sleep at some point."

Don loosened his tie and leant against the wall. "Where is she now?"

"Gone for an MRI. Should be back in fifteen minutes or so. But the results will take a little bit longer. About an hour, the doc said."

Don nodded. "Why don't you go and grab something to eat. No offence to them, but the food here is crap." Callen looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "I've spent a fair amount of time in here as well you know. I know just how bad the cafeteria is."

Callen smiled ever so slightly. "Thanks but I'm good. I said I'd wait around for her, she's gonna come back to our office when she's released."

Don snorted. "She's not going to be going anywhere for a while Agent Callen. Even if the doctors let her leave here today she's still going to have to wait for medication for her concussion isn't she. You said it yourself her results are going to take an hour to get back. Go and grab something to eat, get a shower and change your clothes. Trust me, you'll feel better afterwards."

Callen stared at the Fed. What the hell? The only people who said stuff like that to him were Hetty and…he chuckled suddenly. "My partner put you up to this didn't he."

Don grinned, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I can neither confirm nor deny any such thing."

Callen shook his head, glancing down at his watch before looking back up in the direction of the Detective's room. With a sigh he turned back to the Fed. "One hour, then I'll be back."

Don nodded. "Sure thing. What's her room number?"

"316."

Don nodded, watching as the Agent made his way down to hall towards the elevators. With a shake of his head he sat down in the vacant seat and waited for Kimberly to be brought back from her scan.

It was another twenty minutes before Kimberly was finally brought back to her room. Her head was pounding, her neck and back aching and she was feeling nauseous again. Though that could just be from all the moving around. And the noise from the MRI machine. Christ above it was loud. And confining. Really confining.

Fortunately the nurse who was pushing the wheelchair she was sitting in was aware of how lousy she was feeling and kept quiet as she took her back to her room. Once inside she pushed Kimberly over to the bed and made to help her back onto it. "No its okay, I've got it." Kimberly murmured softly to her.

The nurse pursed her lips slightly but nodded. "Just press the call button if you need any help." Kimberly nodded slightly and the nurse left the room. She let her head fall into her hands and sighed softly, massaging her temples in an attempt to alleviate her headache.

After a minute she dropped her hands onto the arms of the wheelchair, braced herself and tried to stand up. But the ache in her back flared suddenly and she bit back a curse, her broken ankle also giving off an angry throb. "Damn it." She cursed softly as she fell back into the wheelchair. Fantastic.

"Need a hand?"

Kimberly jumped slightly at the voice, then cursed again at the pain. Turning her head slightly she noticed a man standing at the door. He walked into the room and Kimberly finally recognised him. The guy from the diner. "How?"

He chuckled. "You were out of it yesterday weren't you." Kimberly looked confused. "I was at the airport. After the…incident."

Kimberly frowned. "What? Why were you there?"

He pulled out a leather wallet and opened it up, showing Kimberly his badge. "FBI."

Looking up at him Kimberly could dimly recall something involving this man and the airport, but it was too hazy. "Huh. You failed to mention that at the diner."

He chuckled. "Yeah well, I don't really go around advertising it to beautiful women I've only just met."

Kimberly flushed slightly at his comment. Oh great, her control over her emotions was embarrassingly bad today. "Um…this is going to sound really bad, but I'm blaming it entirely on the concussion. What's your name again?"

"Don. Don Epps."

She nodded. "Right. Um, why are you here?"

Don continued to smile softly. "Well I was leading the FBI team that stormed the airport yesterday. I remembered you saying that you were flying out so I was keeping an eye out for you whilst we were securing the scene. Then when I saw you talking to the police officers I thought I'd make sure you were okay. Which became very apparent that you weren't when you collapsed suddenly. I had no idea at the time you're a Detective."

Kimberly flushed again. "Yeah, sorry. I was…well, trying not to advertise who I was. Pot meet kettle I guess."

Don shrugged. "No problem." He walked up to her side and looked down at her. "So do you need a hand?"

She looked down at the wheelchair before looking over to the bed and sighed. "Yeah. My back really isn't happy with me at the moment. Neither is my head, or my ankle for that matter."

Don chuckled softly, bending down to let Kimberly put one of her arms around his shoulders. He wrapped his arm gently around her waist, trying not to put too much pressure against her back. "Ready?" He waited for her to nod before lifting her up slowly to her feet. Kimberly grit her teeth and tried not to moan as her back twinged, and soon she was standing upright. Fortunately the room stayed in one place and when she nodded again Don helped her to take slow steps forward before turning her around and lowering her down onto the bed.

She sank down with a sigh, her eyes closing briefly in relief. She took another minute before lifting her legs up and gently swinging her body around so she was reclining on the bed again. It was only then that she allowed herself to groan softly. "God that feels better. How can wheelchairs be so uncomfortable?"

Don grinned as he sat down in the seat next to the bed. "I don't know, but they are very good torture devices. Not that I've ever used one for such a thing." He added quickly when Kimberly looked at him. She laughed, wincing ever so slightly. "You still sore?" He asked softly.

Kimberly nodded slightly. "Yeah. It feels like there's a family of woodpeckers tapping out an Irish jig in my brain right now." She sighed again. "And that means I'm stuck here for god knows how long. Fecking typical."

He laughed slightly. "What would you be doing if you weren't stuck here then?"

Kimberly frowned slightly. "What is the time now?"

"Err…" He glanced at his watch. "9:55."

"So it's…12:55 back home…depending on whether or not I would be needed to attend a crime scene, probably just coming back from lunch. I would also be going over all of those files I came here to pick up."

"What is this information about? You mentioned it in the diner yesterday and then at the airport one of my team mentioned a police officer was giving you a hard time about it."

Kimberly laughed. "You know, I had completely forgotten about him. Prat." She sighed softly. "In all honesty I don't know how much I can say. Did you hear about a terrorist/hostage situation last month?"

Don nodded. "Yeah, at first we were told that they were Islamic extremists, but then the final reports were that they were actually Irish, and it was an attempt to steal some kind of weapon."

"Yes, that's about as much as I know. They were called the Celtic Militia, and very nearly succeeded, but NCIS managed to stop them just in time."

"Do you know why NCIS were involved in it? The FBI didn't know anything about it until after everything started happening."

Kimberly shrugged. "I have no idea. You'd have to ask them. I'm only here because they ran facial scans on some of the men inside the building after the whole event and it was picked up by the NYPD. Two of the men were very similar to two men that were a part of a group that were operating in New York eight years ago. After spending two weeks battling through legalities and red tape my boss was finally granted permission to obtain a copy of the files NCIS has on this Militia. It was a really personal case for him; he came close to dying when the lab blew up. Don't ask." She grinned at Don's facial expression. "Anyway, someone else was meant to fly out here next week to pick them up but then life interfered and it was me who came out today. Yesterday even. Gah, it's really annoying that I've lost a day."

Don laughed slightly. "I know that feeling all too well. But why is the NYPD so interested in a group in LA?"

"Well like I said it happened eight years ago. It was about six months before I officially joined the team." She coughed and Don immediately refilled the cup with water and passed it to her. "Thanks." She took a sip. "What started out as the largest drug raid NYPD has ever undertaken turned into a hostage situation, and whilst that was happening the leader of this group had managed to infiltrate the lab where the drugs were being held and tried to take them back. It didn't work and all but two of the men who were involved died. The two that didn't die managed to escape and went underground, and no one has seen hide or hair of them since. We knew that those who died were the key players in the gang but the remaining members disbanded and disappeared. NYPD tried to track them down but we had limited resources, were understaffed and had major budget issues back then so we couldn't track them. Until four weeks ago, when a computer programme that another CSI and I created sent out an alert saying that someone was trying to find out the identity of a man. Now that isn't anything new, but this programme has stored in it the names, faces and critical information of people the NYPD is on the lookout for. If anyone, anywhere in America enters information that is similar to that which is in the programme, or is trying to find information it sends me an alert. The names and pictures that popped up on my computer screen didn't stand out. The name was Liam O'Boyle. It was the information that was tagged onto his file that caught my attention: Wanted in connection with raid on NYPD Crime Lab, 2007. As soon as I saw that I made the connection and called my boss."

Kimberly cleared her throat and took another sip of water whilst Don processed all of everything she had just told him. Holy hell he thought.

Before he could say anything else another voice rang out. "Well that explains how you knew about the attack. We were wandering how the police force in New York knew about what was happening in LA." Both Don and Kimberly turned to the door to see Callen leaning against the frame, smirking slightly.

Don looked down at his watch with a frown; he was pretty sure it hadn't been an hour since he had last seen the agent, but he couldn't exactly order him around. With a small sigh he stood up, grinning at the other man. "Yeah, sounds like they have better technology than the Bureau does. Makes me feel a little jealous."

Kimberly laughed slightly. "I'd hardly say that. Just a couple of people who like to play around with the equipment and programmes that we do have and make them more efficient." She winked at Don.

Callen walked further into the room and sat down on the remaining chair. "Has the doc been back in yet?"

Don shook his head. "No not yet. Should be soon though." His cell rang suddenly and he glanced at Kimberly. "Sorry, I'll be outside."

Kimberly shrugged slightly, biting back a wince of pain as the FBI agent got to his feet and walked outside, pulling his phone out along the way. Callen looked over at the Detective. "How are you feeling? Truly?"

She sighed. "I ache. A lot. And I'm not sure what hurts more, my back or my head. Can't feel my leg much though, which I'm going to take as a good sign. Honestly I just want to get out of here. I really do hate hospitals."

Callen laughed slightly. "Yeah, you and me both."

Kimberly was about to reply when a quiet knock on the door alerted both of them to Alex standing in the doorway. "Is this a bad time?" He asked teasingly, having heard both of their comments about hospitals. "I can always come back in a couple of hours."

Kimberly laughed slightly. "Try it Doc, and I may have to do something I will inevitably end up regretting." She smiled at him. "Please tell me you have my results."

Alex nodded as he stepped into the room, eyes flickering briefly to Callen before turning back to Kimberly. "You will be pleased to hear that I do indeed have your results."

There was a brief silence in the room before Kimberly broke it, trying not to sound too impatient. "And?"

Alex laughed as he pulled images of her scans out of a folder. "Why don't you have a look. This scan was taken yesterday when you were first brought in." Kimberly reached out to take it and held it up to the light to be able to see it better. It did mean she had to squint her eyes a little against the harshness of the light, but at least she wasn't straining to see the scans. "As you can see there was some significant swelling in the cerebellum and was pressing up against the brainstem. Because you didn't lose consciousness straight away we initially diagnosed you with secondary traumatic brain injury. But after talking to your uncle on the phone and a closer look at the scans it was downgraded to a mild/moderate TBI. The reason why you were unconscious for so long was probably a combination of the injuries, medication and exhaustion. He said you had been working yourself into the ground recently." Kimberly flushed ever so slightly at his words, silently berating her uncle. "We decided to wait, either for twenty-four hours or until you regained consciousness, whichever one came around first, before we redid the scans to see what was happening with the swelling. If it had gotten worse than we would operate. But a lot of the time brain swelling will decrease by itself and there is no need for surgery. The brain really is a strange thing."

Kimberly looked closely at the areas Alex had pointed out and could indeed see that there was pretty major swelling at the base of her…no the brain. This wasn't her brain; it was the brain of a patient. That thought would keep her sane. Mostly. "And the results of today's scan?"

Alex grinned, handing her a second film. "Just take a look."

Again she held the film up to the light and could instantly see a difference. The swelling had greatly reduced and the cerebellum was no longer pressing so tightly against the brainstem. The swelling hadn't gone down completely yet though, not that she was surprised. "What are these?" Kimberly pointed to a couple of dark patches on the scan.

Alex pulled out another film from the second scan just as Don came back into the room. "Epidural hematomas. But they are very small, and haven't grown since the scans from yesterday. Surgery isn't needed, mainly because of their size. They're small enough to be absorbed back into the brain naturally, and the surgery would just take longer to recover from. But they are the main reason why I don't want you leaving LA for at least a week. We need to keep an eye on these hematomas, just in case if they do start expanding."

Kimberly nodded. "Of course, that makes perfect sense. But there is something you haven't told me Alex. When can I get out of here?"

The doctor laughed. "Officially I have to recommend that you stay here so we can monitor your condition. You would probably stay for a couple more days, by which time the hematomas will more than likely have dissolved. There is of course the chance that they could expand and if they do, we will take you into surgery and remove them. But as I said, that is what I have to say. In my opinion, there is no harm in you leaving the hospital today, as long as there are people around you who are versed enough to recognise the signs of the hematomas expanding. Those signs include confusion, dizziness, varying levels of alertness, continued nausea and or vomiting, seizures etc. Those are the main concerns but I can give you a list of all of the symptoms. If you do start experiencing any of these you must come back here straight away. Otherwise the consequences…"

"…could be fatal, I know the drill Alex." Kimberly cut him off. "Agent Callen has already mentioned that I can stay with him until I'm medically cleared. Apparently he's been all but threatened to get me to go with him."

Callen laughed slightly. "Well I wouldn't say that but…well, you've met Hetty Doc."

Alex laughed, mimicking a shudder. Don spoke up at that moment. "She sounds…interesting. Look I'm sorry I have to go. Team briefing. I'll call with updates later."

Callen nodded at him. "Sure thing. And thanks for earlier."

Don shrugged slightly before turning his attention to Kimberly. "I'm glad you seem to be okay."

Kimberly smiled at him. "Yes, thank you. And thanks for dropping by, it was nice to see you again."

Don grinned in reply. "If you want to meet up again at all, call my cell." He handed her a business card. "That gets my attention far better than a possibly terrorist attack."

Kimberly laughed. "I didn't exactly plan that you know, but I'll keep it in mind."

Don laughed as well, nodding at Callen and Alex as he left the room. She turned her attention back to Alex. "So I can get out of here today?"

Alex nodded. "I'm just waiting on the pharmacy to send up some medication for you to take, mainly to ease the pain in your back but there is also an acetaminophen to help with the headaches you're no doubt already experiencing from the concussion. As soon as you get those, you're free."

Kimberly smiled in relief. "Thank you Alex. And I need to come back in a week for a follow-up?"

He nodded. "Yes, you'll have another MRI to check the swelling and hematomas. If it's clear, you'll be free to fly home."

Kimberly's smile was radiant. "Thank you so much."

Alex shrugged, smiling at both Kimberly and Callen before leaving the room. She looked up at Callen with a smile. "Finally."

Callen laughed. "Yes. Though you might want to be wearing something a little less, well…"

He broke off and Kimberly smiled slightly, glancing down at herself. It was true; she was wearing a hospital gown. Great.

"Where are my clothes?"

Callen shrugged slightly. "Dirty, torn, bloodied. And they had to cut up your trouser leg to get to your ankle properly. My boss told me to give you these." He handed her a bag. "Need a hand?"

Kimberly laughed before shaking her head. "No thank you. I think I can manage just fine Agent Callen."

He grinned at her. "I'll be right outside. Shout if you need any help."

Kimberly nodded, waiting until he had gone outside and shut the door before opening the bag and pulling out a pale green shirt, a slightly darker green tank top and a pair of loose cotton trousers in black with a flare in the leg. Probably to accommodate the cast. At the bottom of the bag was one tennis shoe. Kimberly laughed softly. She had a feeling she was really going to like meeting this elusive Hetty person.