EMMA'S POV:

Today was the day. After twenty-eight years of education, training, and hard work, I was now official an NCIS agent. Unlike my brother, and my parents before him, I had not chosen to work for the OSP branch of NCIS. Undercover work wasn't exactly my style, and I felt that I would do better as just an investigator.

So, after completing college by age twenty-two, I had spent six years in the Navy, and then finally been accepted to NCIS. Special Agent McGee, an old-friend of my parents, had a spot open on his team, and he had gladly taken me onto his team.

Now, as I walked into the NCIS headquarters building, I felt nervous and anxious. What if I made a terrible agent, especially after my parents had been such wonderful undercover operatives? Would my new teammates like me? Would my boss be hard to get along with? Would he be tough on me, the probie?

When I got into the building, I went upstairs to the Director's office. Paul Ware had been the director of NCIS for the past ten years, ever since Leon Vance retired. He was an older man with strict policies and no sense of humor.

"My name is Emma Callen," I introduced myself to the secretary. " I have an appointment with Director Ware."

"He's ready for you," the secretary told me. "Go on in."

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door.

"Come in," a deep voice told me.

I twisted the door handle and walked inside. Director Ware was sitting behind a desk, looking down at some papers on his desk.

"Agent Callen, I presume," he said without even looking up.

"Yes, sir," I replied quietly. "I was told to report to you first thing."

Director Ware looked up. "That's right. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll introduce you to your team leader."

I followed the director downstairs, and he led me to into a nearby bullpen that had four desks. Two of them were occupied by men. One of the men was older, and slightly on the heavier side. I guessed that he was the team leader, Special Agent McGee, but I couldn't be certain. The other man was younger—about Sam's age—with dark brown hair, a slightly dark complexion, and dark, smoldering eyes. He looked so familiar, and I felt certain that I knew him from somewhere. In fact, I felt as if he was an old friend.

"Emma, this is Special Agent Timothy McGee, your team leader," Director Ware introduced me to the older man, who stood up and smiled, extending his hand.

"Welcome to the team, Emma. It's a pleasure to have you here. Your parents are good friends of mine," he told me.

"Thank you for accepting me, sir," I replied, shaking his hand firmly.

"This is Special Agent Lee DiNozzo," my boss told me, gesturing the handsome young man who had stood up.

"Lee?" I knew that I knew him! He was Tony and Ziva's son, who I had played with several times as a child.

"How are you, Emma?" Lee wanted to know, giving me a warm hug.

"I'm great! How have you been? It's been years since I've seen you!" I declared.

"You two know each other?" Director Ware asked us.

"Yes, sir," Lee replied. "Our parents were good friends when we were growing up. We played together a good bit as kids."

"Touching," the director remarked dryly. "Good luck, Ms. Callen."

When the director was gone, my boss told me that I could sit at the desk across from Agent DiNozzo, so I put my box of stuff and my backpack down on the desk.

"So, Emma, how's Sam?" Lee wanted to know.

"He's good," I told my old friend. "He's working with OSP now."

"Hmm…Just like your dad, huh?"

"Well, he's better at undercover work than I am. I guess he got his skills from Dad."

"Yeah, G Callen is pretty famous." Lee shook his head with admiration, propping his feet up on his desk. "I'll bet having the same last name'll be lucky for you."

"Well, what about you?" I asked, putting my five favorite pens in a cup on my desk. "You're named after Uncle Jethro and your dad, right?"

"That's right," Lee told me. "Leroy Anthony DiNozzo. Fortunately, it has been shortened to Lee."

Before either of us could speak again, our boss's phone rang loudly and he answered it quickly.

"Yeah, McGee," he spoke into the telephone. He listened for a few seconds, and then put the phone down. "Gear up!" he told us. "We've got a dead sailor!"

Okay, so tell me what you think…this is just a start. Should I continue?