EMMA'S POV:
It made sense that Uncle Jethro had invited Lee to dinner as well. After all, my parents were just as close to former Special Agent Gibbs as Lee's parents, Tony and Ziva, were.
We all sat around the bow, eating the steaks that Uncle Jethro had cooked. He didn't have anything with them, except for plenty of cold beer.
"So, Emma, how are your parents enjoying their retirement so far?" Uncle Jethro asked me. "I'm sure enjoying mine."
"They're happy," I told him. "They hang out with Sam and his wife, Kensi, a lot." Then, I turned to Lee. "What are your parents doing nowadays?" I wanted to know.
"Well, Dad is working with the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center here in D.C. He trains the new NCIS agents," Lee explained. "And Mom teaches hand-to-hand combat there, as well."
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Wow. I thought they were retiring."
"Not exactly," Lee laughed.
"So, how's McGee as a team leader?" Uncle Jethro asked us. "Has he smacked you on the back of the head yet?"
"He did it to me yesterday," Lee admitted.
"Not to me," I declared. "But it's probably coming."
LEE'S POV:
That night, Emma and I both left at the same time because we both had a busy day at work ahead of us on the morrow. We walked through the harbor together, and I couldn't help but admire the grace with which she carried herself. She stood tall and confident, as if the world couldn't possible intimidate her. Her long legs were accentuated by a deep tan and the boots that she was wearing.
When I finally made it back to my vehicle, I shook my head, trying to get rid of the attraction I felt towards my new partner. We worked together, and I needed to keep a strictly professional outlook on my job, especially when the director was so strict on agency policies, employee fraternization more than anything else.
EMMA'S POV:
I sat in my car for somewhere between ten and fifteen minutes, trying to figure out what was wrong with me? Why had I noticed that Lee's dark eyes seemed to smolder every time he looked at me? Why had I noticed that, underneath his burnt orange polo, his arms were exceedingly muscular? Why had I noticed that his chest muscles were accentuated by the fabric stretched tightly across his upper torso.
Lee was a family friend, and now he was my NCIS partner. I refused to be attracted to him, no matter how strong the pull was. No, I had to be strong—I had to resist by all possible means.
On the next day, I arrived at work to find Agent McGee already there, but Agent DiNozzo wasn't.
"Good morning, Boss," I greeted Agent McGee, setting my cup of tea down on my desk.
"Good morning, Emma. How are you?" he asked me.
"I'm good, sir," I replied, putting my gun and badge in my desk drawer.
"Very unique Agent Lee DiNozzo is in the house," Lee announced, emerging from the elevator. "Good morning, team."
"Morning," both the boss and I replied at the same time.
Lee stopped in front of my desk and handed me a paper bag. "I stopped by Krispy Kreme today, and I happened to remember that you loved their doughnuts as a kid, so I thought I'd bring you one."
I took the bag in surprise, touched by the gesture, and amazed that he had remembered. "Oh! Thank you!" I peeked into the bag and saw two Original Glaze Krispy Kreme doughnuts. "They smell incredible."
LEE'S POV:
I didn't know why I brought Emma doughnuts, but I had. I couldn't explain it, but I had stopped solely for the purpose of buying her two.
I had only been in the office for three minutes when we got a call from the forensic scientist, Abby. She wanted us down in her lab right away.
When Emma saw Abby, she didn't hesitate to hug the Gothic woman warmly. "Oh, it has been way to long since I saw you, Emma!" Abby declared. "I think you had just graduated from college and joined the Navy."
"You joined the Navy?" I was surprised. "No one had ever told me that Emma had been in the military."
"Yep," she replied. "I served for six years, because I figured it would look good on my resume when I tried to join NCIS."
"So, Abby, what did you find?" McGee asked, interrupting.
Abby turned to the computers behind her. "Well, I found a partial print on the knife that was left at the scene, so I ran that through every database."
"And?" McGee looked at Abby expectantly.
"I got nothing," she told him.
McGee sighed. "Couldn't you have told me that over the phone?"
"Have a little faith, Timmy. I didn't say that I didn't find anything!" Abby turned back to the computer, giving McGee an evil glare. "I found two samples of blood on the knife blade. It turns out that our killer cut himself while he was slicing and dicing on Petty Officer Thompson."
"Abby, did you get a match?" Lee asked, losing patience with the scientist.
"I sure did," she replied proudly, slapping a sticky note on McGee's tie. "Name and most recent address for the Boss man."
"Thank you, Abby," McGee said, kissing her cheek lightly.
As I turned to walk out of the room, I caught sight of several photographs taped to Abby's desk. "Hey!" I exclaimed. "You were supposed to get rid of that one!" I pointed to the picture of me at age twelve. I was wearing my ballet costume, and the picture had been taken after my recital of Swan Lake.
"Is that you?" Lee wanted to know, peering curiously down at the picture. "Wow!"
I smacked him on the back of the head, and then I turned to Abby. "I told you to get rid of that picture. I hate ballet, remember?"
"But you were so good, remember?"
I shook my head adamantly. "I don't dance anymore, Abs. Never again."
LEE'S POV:
I wasn't sure why Emma had gotten all bent out of shape over one simple photograph, but Abby just raised her eyebrows at me. I was going to ask her what Emma's problem was, but McGee called to me before I had a chance to.
"Let's go, Junior."
"Boss, please don't call me 'Junior," I pleaded.
Timothy McGee, my boss, had worked with my dad, Tony, when he first joined NCIS. I had the feeling that Dad had always given McGee a hard time, and now my boss liked to call me "Junior" because he said I was an exact replica of my dad.
We all headed down to autopsy after visiting Abby's lab and, when we went inside, I saw Emma turn her head away from the body, covering her mouth and nose. Palmer had the victim's chest cut open with the flesh pulled back to reveal all of the internal organs.
"Oh my God," Emma muttered, trying to face the gruesome sight again.
"Have you ever seen an autopsy?" I whispered into her hear.
"I missed that day of training," she admitted. Then, bravely, she walked closer to the table and stared down at the body like she was looking at paperwork.
"Hmm," I thought to myself. "This girl's got guts."