Fingers hurt. Fingers hurt a lot. I've had scattered notes and half-finished copies of this chapter for a month, and finally I have finished it and am happy with it. Thank god. Wasn't sure I would ever get it done. Just so glad I don't have to do any translations on this story. Yet :/.

Thank you so much everyone for being patient; I realise it has been a long time since I last updated this story. Should never have gone on holiday J. Had an absolutely amazing break, but now I am back and ready to rock and roll.

I must say I am absolutely blown away by the response to this story. I cannot believe how many views I've got, and combining that with the reviews, followers and favourites I'm sitting here in a state of shock. Thank you. Thank you so much. I never thought I would get more than two hundred views for this whole story and I've got five hundred and fifty with just four chapters. Words cannot describe how that makes me feel.

On with the show. Or story. Enjoy xxx

Chapter Five

Callen was playing with his phone yet again when a nurse came up to him and handed over a paper bag and a note. "Here you go sir. Dr Richardson apologises but an emergency has come up; he asked me to drop these off for you."

Callen nodded. "Brilliant. Thank you." He watched as the nurse walked away before unfolding the note. 'Kimberly needs to take the 400mg of Celebrex for the back pain tomorrow morning when she wakes up, followed by the 200mg dose 8-12 hours later if needed. In the following days she can take 200mg twice a day as needed. The Tylenol contains the Acetaminophen she will need to help with her concussion and the headache that follows. 325mg tablets with two to be taken every 4-6 hours. If her headache continues or worsens, or she starts to display any of the systems I listed earlier than she has to come back in straight away. I'm holding you to it. And you have not yet been cleared for active duty; get your arse back behind a desk. Alex.'

Callen snorted slightly, shaking his head slightly at Alex's veiled threat. He slipped the note inside his jacket pocket just as he heard Kimberly call out his name from inside the room. He opened the door slightly, taking care not to look inside. "You decent?"

Kimberly laughed slightly. "Mostly. I um…can you help with the…the top?"

He raised an eyebrow but opened the door anyway and slid inside the room, shutting it again behind him. He turned to see Kimberly holding a pile of green cloth in front of her and looked vaguely embarrassed. "Sorry. I can't lift my arms up high enough…" She trailed off, her cheeks tainted slightly pink.

Callen nodded slightly, noting to himself that as uncomfortable he felt right now had to be nothing compared to her. He walked over to Kimberly who handed him a dark green tank top. Unfortunately it wasn't one he would be able to slip on her from behind, he realised. "Sorry, don't mean to look…"

Kimberly shrugged a little, wincing at the movement. "It's okay. I doubt it's nothing you haven't seen before." She smiled slightly, holding out her arms so he could slide the top up them. He'd bunched the material up in his hands so gently eased it over her arms, making sure the shoulder straps were in the right place. He was mentally thanking Hetty that she'd chosen an extra stretchy top so he was able to pull it easily over Kimberly's head and let it fall down her torso. He'd taken care not to focus on the scars she had criss-crossing her chest and stomach, along with the ones travelling up her arms as he took hold of the paler green shirt and gently helped her into it.

Callen noticed that for whatever reason, Hetty hadn't included a jacket in the bag of clothing, so took his off and draped it around her shoulders. "Here, you'll need this out there. I know it's probably warmer than you're used to but it's still February after all."

Kimberly's smile was warmer this time as he helped her slide her arms into the jacket. "Thank you."

"No problem." He held out the paper bag. "Here, the Doc's sent over your meds. You ready to go now?"

Kimberly nodded, taking the medication and putting them in her bag. Callen picked the bag up before she had a chance to; grinning at the small glare she sent his way. "Yes, I've got everything I need. Thanks."

"No problem. Come on; let's get out of here before the good doctor changes his mind."

This had Kimberly laughing as they left the room and started slowly heading down the corridor towards the elevators.

"Didn't think I'd be back in this car quite so soon."

Callen looked over at Kimberly. She was once again sitting in the passenger seat of his car, and had been pretty quiet since they had left the hospital; he was betting part of that was to do with motion sickness. He was trying to make the journey as smooth as possible, knowing from first-hand experience that being in any kind of vehicle whilst suffering from a concussion sucked. So he tried to lighten the mood.

"Quite so soon? So you were thinking about coming back then?"

Kimberly snorted, recalling that part of their conversation outside the airport…yesterday? "What makes you think about this specific car? Maybe I have one back home."

"Do you?"

She grinned. "No. And yes, I was thinking about being back in this car again."

Callen looked over at her to see the grin. "I can't tell if you're being serious or not. That's a first for me."

Kimberly laughed softly. "One thing you'll find Agent Callen, I'm rarely serious." Her smile faded slightly. "Though if I am completely honest with you, as much as I may like this car, I would much rather be on a plane right now."

He nodded. "I can understand that. And I'm sorry. But hey, you do get to see some more of LA now."

"Well yes there is that. And your super-secret base."

Callen snorted. "You're still going on about that?"

Kimberly shrugged. "What? I've never been in one before. Police don't work in secret bases and I'm a CSI. I spend nearly all of my time in a lab."

"Well then, here's hoping we don't disappoint." Callen turned off the main road, heading now down side streets.

Kimberly tried to keep up with the street signs but soon decided it was an impossible task; her vision was still a bit spotty and her head slightly woozy from the concussion. Despite this there was one question she needed to ask. "I'm surprised you haven't blindfolded me or anything."

Callen laughed. "Nahh, we only do that to people we don't like. Besides, you don't have any idea where we are do you."

She shrugged. "Not a clue, which I must admit is a tad disconcerting."

"Don't worry. I'm not an axe murderer." He glanced over at her and grinned as he said this.

Kimberly laughed at that as he pulled up in front of an old-style building normally found in Spain. The courtyard they had stopped in was tiny and, Kimberly noticed immediately, not the usual place people would park in. The buildings surrounding them were run down, not falling apart but they had clearly seen better days. Callen killed the engine and got out of the car, Kimberly following suit, albeit slightly slower. She looked around, staring at the red notice signs stating the buildings were deemed unsafe. "Huh. So what, you're hiding in plain sight?"

Callen chuckled. "You know, that was the first think I said when I saw this place for the first time too. But essentially yes, we are. This used to be a water plant admin building but was listed as condemned after the Northridge quake. On the outside at least. Inside, it's a whole other ballgame."

Kimberly snorted slightly. "You do know you lot are taking this secrecy thing to a whole new level right." Callen grinned but didn't answer, grabbing Kimberly's bag from the car and motioning for her to follow him. He noticed that as she walked around the car she tried to mask the limp she still had by walking slowly. He offered her his arm as a support and she took it with a grateful smile. With a small flourish he opened one of the wooden doors and let her inside.

Sufficed to say, it was not at all what she had been expecting. Of course looking back, she wasn't quite sure what she had been expecting, particularly after the boatshed, but an old-style Spanish missionary? Never. The corridor they were in led into what was once a beautiful enclosed courtyard. Now it was covered by a glass roof that somehow did nothing to dampen the beauty of the structure. Although he was silent, Kimberly could practically feel Callen shaking with laughter at her reaction.

"Yes, yes alright, very funny. Yes I'm impressed. Happy now?"

Callen grinned, turning her around slightly to face an enclosed area with four desks; three of which were currently occupied by his team. Kimberly remembered Sam and could vaguely recall the other two from the airport.

"This is where we spend most of our time when we're not on a case. Upstairs is our OPS centre. And behind you," he turned her around again, "that is where our boss works."

Sure enough Hetty was at her desk, with one of her infamous tea sets laid out in front of her. Callen led Kimberly open, helping her up the stairs. One of his arms brushed up against her back and he could feel how tense she was. From the pain, he guessed, unless she knew why they really wanted her there.

"Our Operations Manager Hetty Lange; this is Detective Kimberly T-Driscoll from the NYPD."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Ms Lange." Callen had to fight to stifle a laugh at the hesitancy in her address.

Hetty looked up at the younger woman and smiled warmly. "I've been hearing a lot about you Detective T-Driscoll. Please take a seat. Would you like some tea?"

Kimberly sank gratefully into one of the seats, letting out a small sigh. "Thank you, and yes that would be lovely."

Callen took the seat next to Kimberly and Hetty proceeded to pour out three cups. He reached over and picked up one, handing it over to Kimberly before taking one for himself.

"Well Ms Driscoll, how are you feeling?"

Kimberly had just taken a sip of tea and nearly choked on it in reaction to the title. That of course set of a chain reaction of pain as her body jolted forward slightly due to the supressed cough, aggravating her back and causing her head to pound. Her eyes watered and she said slightly breathlessly, "Please, it's Kimberly. Just Kimberly." Callen laughed whilst Hetty merely nodded, her sharp eyes taking in Kimberly's reaction. "I'm okay thank you. Would be better if I was on my way home, but beggars can't be choosers."

Hetty nodded, smiling slightly. "Of course. And have you talked to your uncle yet?"

"No," the younger woman replied. "I'll give him a chance to calm down first. I'll call him later." She sighed slightly, setting her cup down and rubbing her forehead. "He's going to kill me when I do manage to get back. This really couldn't have come at a worse time." She saw Hetty's questioning gaze. "We're down too many people at the moment, and he's supposed to be on holiday. Though I'm pretty sure he doesn't know what the word means."

Callen glance at Hetty before asking the question. He already knew the answer, having spoken to the man on the phone earlier, but he wasn't sure she was aware he knew. "What about your boss? Wouldn't he want to know how you're doing?"

Kimberly frowned; hadn't she told him this? Something niggled at the back of her mind but she couldn't focus on it. "Well, he kind of already knows. My uncle is my boss. Detective Mac Taylor."

Callen nodded slightly. Almost on que Kimberly's phone started ringing in her bag. She pulled it out and groaned, her eyes closing. The caller ID read Mac. "Speak of the devil." She sighed, opening her eyes to look at Hetty apologetically. "I'm sorry; if I don't answer he's going to get more persistent."

Hetty nodded. "Of course, take your time dear." She stood up and gestured for Callen to follow her. As they left Hetty's office Callen could hear Kimberly murmuring into her phone; apparently her uncle wasn't particularly happy she had waited so long to call him. Hetty waited until they were in the bullpen before turning to him. "Mr Callen, do you still have that photograph?"

Callen nodded, pulling the paper out of his jeans pocket. He glanced at it briefly before passing it over to his boss. Callen then sat down at his desk whilst Hetty studied the photograph. She had, of course, seen it as Callen had emailed her a copy of it through his phone, but to see the original…well, it was certainly something else. It was an old photo but, as she and Callen had both seen already, Kimberly was immediately recognisable thanks to her hair. The two people standing behind her were not as recognisable. Well, the man wasn't. But the woman...Hetty looked up to see Callen and the rest of the team staring at her. "This is…"

"Complicated?" Deeks cut across her. "Because it is. And confusing. Definitely confusing."

"Yes Mr Deeks."

"Eric and Nell are running checks upstairs. What is going on Hetty?" The older woman turned to look at Kensi.

"In all honesty Ms Blye I do not know. She had a great many secrets, even from me. And I was never aware of all of her assignments; like Mr Callen she worked for many agencies because of her numerous skills."

It was Deeks who voiced the question they were all thinking. "Could this be a ploy? I mean, is the photo even legit?"

"That is what we need to find out. As soon as possible."

Meanwhile Callen had been keeping an eye on their guest, an action that did not go unnoticed by his partner. He spoke up suddenly. "Hetty, looks like she's finishing that call."

Hetty nodded, turning around to look at the woman. It did seem indeed that she was close to ending the call, which she did barely two minutes later. She turned back to her main team. "Mr Hanna, you and Ms Blye will continue working with the FBI team to determine whether the attack at the airport was an isolated incident. Mr Deeks I need you to go to the LAPD and see if they have any new information or leads, and pick up and electronic information they have for Mr Beale and Ms Jones." The two agents and detective nodded and got up to leave.

Callen traded a look with Sam before turning back to Hetty. "And what am I going to be doing?"

Hetty turned to her senior agent-in-charge. "You and I, Mr Callen, are going to get to know our guest a little better."

Kimberly sighed heavily, letting her phone drop down into her lap. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers into her temples. It was another two hours until she could take any more pain medication, but her head was throbbing mercilessly and her back was starting to ache. The next couple of days were going to be hard work.

Mac had been understanding; thankful that he had at least been in contact with Callen whilst she had been unconscious, so had more reliable updates than the bloody press. His words, not hers. After she had finally talked to him he had calmed down considerably. Now he was just worried about her. As was Christine and the rest of the lab. Fantastic. Kimberly couldn't decide what was worse. Mac angry or Mac worried. Both were dangerous. A soft cough had her opening her eyes and looking around to see Hetty looking at her with soft concern. "Is everything okay dear?"

"Yes Ms Lange. He's just worried about me. Despite being in contact with Agent Callen he wasn't going to settle until he'd heard from me. If I'd made him wait any longer he probably would have been on his way over here. In all honesty I'm still kind of expecting that to happen." She smiled slightly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Have some more tea. It is chamomile and ginger; it will help ease your headache. And it's just Hetty." She sat back down, taking a sip from her own cup as she watched Kimberly do the same. "Now, Mr Callen will be back over in a couple of minutes; he still has an incident report that he owes me. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions Ms…Kimberly?"

The younger woman shrugged. "No not at all. Not sure what you want to know, but I'll do my best to answer."

"Mr Callen said that from what you have told him you have been a Detective for some time, and that you also have medical experience. Just how old are you?"

Kimberly winced slightly at the question. It was one that was asked fairly regularly and she shouldn't be bothered by it anymore but still… "I'm thirty one. I've been a Detective for seven years and a cop for ten…oh and have extensive medical training. You're not the first to ask, I look younger than I am. I graduated from med school when I was fifteen and entered the Police Academy at seventeen." She saw Hetty raise her eyebrows and shrugged in response. "I have a genius level IQ, and I get bored exceedingly easy. I've been working officially in the crime lab since I was twenty-four."

Hetty didn't say anything, like she knew there was more and Kimberly sighed. "I'm a fully decorated cop, and although I work primarily in the crime lab I also assist in the NYPD precincts if they need an extra pair of hands. I also help out in the Medical Examiner's office from time to time, and volunteer at the local hospitals if they're short staffed. Thanks to having a photographic memory along with that IQ, I can speak six languages besides English. And now you probably think I'm showing off."

Hetty shook her head. "No not at all. I will admit being slightly surprised that you are able to work underneath your uncle. I didn't think that would be allowed."

"Normally no but he isn't technically my uncle. It's…it's complicated."

"How so?"

Kimberly frowned. "Why do I feel like this is starting to turn into an interrogation?" Her cop senses, already starting to tingle a little, heightened when Hetty didn't answer her.

"Here's that report you wanted Hetty." Callen's voice behind Kimberly startled her and she automatically stiffened, her face tensing slightly at the discomfort. Callen cursed silently. "Sorry, I thought you heard me Kimberly."

She shook her head. "No it's okay. Don't worry."

Callen glanced over at Hetty before sitting down slowly; she obliged him. "Kimberly's just filling in a few points for me."

He turned to the younger woman who was starting to look like she would rather be anywhere than there. He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile and she sighed slightly before returning the gesture.

"Okay, this is probably going to be rather long-winded and I apologise. Mac Taylor…I call him my uncle although I suppose I could also call him my father. But we aren't related. I was adopted. I've never known anything about my birth parents and the earliest memories I have are of being passed from one orphanage and foster home to another, and never in just one state either; I went all across the country." Callen felt a pang of sympathy for her; he too knew exactly what it was like to not know anything about your family. "Finally, when I was eight years old, a man named Mark Driscoll adopted me. He was a private detective who worked in New York. Had been born in England and moved to America when he was a teenager. Anyway he was based with an agency that co-ordinated a lit with the police, so I guess you could say that my future was pretty much set from there. Not bad for a kid who didn't even have a last name for the first eight years of her life." There was a small smile on her face as she said this. "When I was eleven a woman came into our lives. Her name was Peyton Driscoll, my father's younger sister. She was a medical examiner for the crime lab, and became pretty embroiled in our family. Then not long after my fourteenth birthday…"

Kimberly broke off, taking a sip of lukewarm tea. Callen noticed that her hands were trembling ever so slightly, her movements had become a little stiff and her voice had slowed down minutely. Maybe this wasn't the right time to be doing at this, and he glanced at Hetty to tell her so, but she merely raised an eyebrow. That was enough to tell him she wanted Kimberly to continue. Which she did a minute or so later.

"One day my father didn't come home. He just disappeared. He had been working on a case that had taken him out of the state, which made it difficult for the NYPD, but his agency tried looking for him, opening investigations and what not, but it was like he had never existed. Mark Driscoll had disappeared off of the face of the earth." That rang a bell with Callen, but he stayed silent. "I was still a minor, but Peyton took me in. She was Mark's sister, and because he had officially adopted me she was legally my aunt, and he had her listed as my guardian should anything happen to him. By this point she was dating a man who working in the crime lab, Mac. They were all but living together, but it didn't bother me at all; if anything I thought it was great because I could start spending more time in the labs. It was the best way to keep a teenager who had already graduated high school and was set to pass medical school before long occupied. Everyone who worked there knew the situations and no one ever made anything of it. They became my family. It was obvious as well to everyone that as soon as I would be able to I was entering the police academy. I graduated med school when I was fifteen, then spent two and a half years interning," Callen snorted when she emphasised the title and she smiled a little, "as a lab assistant. Because my birthday is in April I wasn't able to join the academy when I turned seventeen; the new intake is in Januarys. And they were being lenient. It was only because of my IQ, memory and having Mac stand up for me that I could enter before I turned eighteen."

Callen sat in silence as he listened to her recap her life. He was stunned. This woman was a complete enigma, and they were only half-way through her tale. He refocused his mind onto the conversation as she continued. "I graduated the police academy in 2004 when I was twenty one, and decided to move away from the city. I know it sounds odd, most people want to move to the city for their first job, but I wanted to prove to myself, and everyone else, that I would be able to make my way without anyone helping me along. So I got a job with NJPD. God that was a blast, we had so much fun. I still went back to the city a lot; I was training in the crime lab to become a CSI. Then the attack happened, three years later."

Kimberly broke off, her head beginning to ache more than before. She knew she still had a while before she could take anymore medication and that thought alone made her groan. She was also starting to feel nauseous, not that she was particularly worried though; nausea was a common symptom when dealing with a Grade Two concussion, and she suspected recounting her life to two strangers wasn't particularly helping either.

Both Callen and Hetty could see the distress mounting on her face. Callen rested a hand against the younger woman's shoulder and found it to be tight with tension. He sighed inaudibly; it was too be expected considering only a few hours before she had still been unconscious. But this was a situation they had to get to the bottom of ASAP. He looked over at his boss with a silent request and Hetty nodded. "Why don't we take a break and come back to this in a little while?" the older woman suggested and Callen nodded.

He took the teacup from Kimberly's hands and set it gently down on the desk. "Come on, let's get away from here for a bit." She nodded and he put his arm around her shoulders, supporting her as she climbed to her feet. He then led her down the steps and away from Hetty's office. He glanced over at the bull pen and saw that Kensi and Sam were back and Deeks was just returning. Glancing down at his watch he was surprised to see that an hour had passed, he'd been so caught up in Kimberly's story. "Hey, want to meet the rest of my team?" Kimberly nodded and let him take her over to the bullpen. "Guys, this is Kimberly, from the airport. I'm sure you remember Sam from the boatshed."

She nodded, smiling at him. "It would be hard to forget you Sam."

The big man chuckled. "Likewise. It's good to see you vertical again." She frowned slightly and he elaborated. "I swung by the hospital last night with some stuff for G; you look a lot better now." Kimberly grinned.

"This is Kensi Blye, probably the toughest person here." Callen winked at Kensi as she came forward, rolling her eyes at his banter.

"You have been spending far too much time with Deeks Callen," she threw back at him, smiling warmly at Kimberly. "Hi, didn't get a chance to meet you officially yet. I was very impressed with some of your moves." Callen hid his surprise; Kensi was being nice to another woman? What the hell?

Kimberly was frowning, but for another reason. "How did you…"

"We have a tech guy upstairs that can hack into just about anything. He's one of the best."

"Oh is he now?" Kimberly raised an eyebrow. "I feel like a challenge may be laid down soon."

"You can hack?" Kensi stared at the woman in front of her in disbelief. Kimberly shot her a grin.

"It's one of my talents." She glanced at Callen. "I meant it when I said I get bored easily." He laughed.

"If this is a competition then I'm choosing the prize." The lanky blonde-haired man walked towards her and stuck out his hand before Callen could introduce him. "Detective Marty Deeks. I'm sorry that my charms swept you off your feet back at the airport…ouch!"

Kimberly laughed as Kensi punched Deeks on the shoulder; the look on the faces of everyone there indicated that this was a regular occurrence. "Detective? So you're not an Agent?"

Deeks shook his head. "Nahh. LAPD through and through. I'm the official liaison between the cops and NCIS here in LA."

Kimberly nodded. "That makes sense. Smart too; wish we had something like that set up back home. It would make our cases with the armed forces a hell of a lot easier. And I'm guessing from everyone's reactions it's a regular occurrence…you sweeping women off of their feet?"

Deeks grinned, about to answer when he saw the look on his partner's face and decided against it. Meanwhile Callen was leading Kimberly over to a chair and they all heard the sigh as she sat down. "Thanks. I can't decide what is worse anymore. A sprain or a fracture."

"How's your head?" Callen asked the question softly. Kimberly's eyes, which had been so bright and clear when he had first seen them, had dimmed noticeably. From the pain, he imagined, more than anything else.

"Okay, I guess. Everything's a little bit fuzzy still and I'm starting to take longer to process things." Deeks and Kensi exchanged a surprised look; they thought she'd been communicating with them just fine, but a look at Sam told them this wasn't the case. Christ, thought Deeks, if this is what she's like concussed, what is she like firing on all cylinders? "I'll just be glad when I can take those meds and they finally kick in." She looked at Callen. "So what happened at the airport? I mean, who were those men?"

"That is what we are in the process of finding out. Right now this case is a joint task force between NCIS, LAPD, the FBI and Homeland as it is being treated as a possible terrorist attack." The group turned to look at the newcomer. Callen sighed under his breath and tried to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"Kimberly, this is Assistant-Director Owen Granger. Sir this is Det…"

"Detective Kimberly Marie Taylor-Driscoll. Yes I kno…"

"It's Kimberly T-Driscoll actually. I dropped the middle name when I legally took my uncle's name."

The look the Assistant-Director gave Kimberly was one that normally sent everyone save Hetty and Callen scurrying for cover. But Kimberly didn't try to backtrack or start fidgeting in her seat. Nothing. Instead she met Granger's gaze head on with one of her own. If any of them had dared to talk, Callen knew they would all be placing bets on who would break first. No one stood down Granger.

So it came as a shock to all of them when Granger cleared his throat and turned his attention to Callen. It was only through years of experience and working undercover that Callen was able to hide his emotions as well as he did. "Mr Beale and Ms Jones are still working to ID the gunmen. LAPD are going to be asking for a statement from you at some point Mr Callen. They will also want to speak to Detective T-Driscoll, along with the FBI I have no doubt." With that he left, heading off to god knows where. There was silence in the bullpen until Kimberly coughed slightly.

"Was I the only one who could feel the sarcasm when he said my name just now?"

Kensi and Deeks burst out laughing. Callen and Sam both looked at her, wide-eyes in shock yet also with appreciation.

"He's just like that with everyone. But the only people I've ever seen challenge him like that are Hetty and Callen. And only Hetty has been known to beat him, occasionally."

Kimberly raised an eyebrow, looking at Sam in disbelief. "Huh."

"Why did you do that?" Callen asked her, clearly unable to process what he had just seen.

Kimberly turned to look at him. "I don't like bullies."