McGee held Elle for a long time, right there on the kitchen floor, their backs against the cabinets and her in his arms. He had never felt this way before. Nobody ever needed McGee for help. He wasn't tall, dark, and handsome like Tony. He was quiet and mysteriously sexy like his Boss, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He was simply Timothy McGee, the team Probie. His sister was the only person he could ever remember holding onto him like this. The only person he could ever remember needing him like this.

McGee tightened his hold around Elle a little, still hearing the occasional sob from her. "Shhh…" he whispered. "It's all right. I'm here."

When her breathing became regular, he knew she was asleep. He also knew that if they stayed right there on the kitchen floor, they'd be stiff in the morning. Carefully, he lifted her into his arms, carried her into the bedroom, and eased her down on the bed. She made a quiet noise in her sleep, then rolled over and sighed.

A blanket was lying across the end of the bed and McGee spread it up over her, then went back to the couch to go to sleep himself. He hadn't planned on staying there all night, but Elle needed him and he was going to do whatever it took to help her get through all this.

I woke up the next morning, lying on my bed, which wasn't where I remembered falling asleep. Someone had spread a quilt up over me and I suddenly remembered that McGee had been there when I fell asleep. I looked at the clock and saw that it said 10:30AM.

"Damn!" I swore, hopping out of the bed. I had to be at work by 11:30AM. My boss had only agreed to give me a week off. He needed me to work.

In the kitchen, there was a note on the counter.

Elle, you were sleeping so well, so I didn't want to wake you up. I'll talk to you soon, but right now I have to get to work, or Gibbs will have my head! Have a good day! McGee.

I hurried through a shower, drying my hair, applying the bare essentials of makeup, getting dressed, and then getting into my car to head to Barnes and Noble, where I worked.

For six months now, since I'd graduated college, I'd been trying to write the great American novel. So far, I'd had no luck. My job paid just enough to cover the bills and a few luxuries now and then. My writing just hadn't been flowing lately. If occurred to me as I tried to miss the busy morning traffic that maybe I should write about what had been going on.

"Elle, you look terrible? Are you sure you're ready to come back to work, honey?" Sylvia, the manager of the local B&N asked me.

"I'm just having trouble sleeping. Don't worry though, I think I found something that helps," I assured her, thinking of McGee's kisses and arms tight around me.

"You takin' some of those sleepin' pills, sweetheart?" she wanted to know. "Those things are addictive!"
"No, it's not exactly a pill," I said uneasily, not wanting anyone to know about McGee just yet. Everyone that I worked with knew Will from him coming to see me there on occasion.

"Well, you just take it easy."

About that time, a customer came up to the desk. "I'm looking for a copy of Deep Six, by Thom E. Gemcity," she told me. "Can you tell me where that is?"

I offered to show her and she followed me like an obedient dog. "Have you read this book before?" I asked her.

"No, but someone was recommending it. My neighbor, I think, said it was excellent," the woman replied.

"Well, she was right," I assured her. "It's worth every penny. I love it! I own two copies and I read it at least once every two months! The writer's style of expressing his characters is amazing!"

"Well, thank you for your help," she looked at my nametag, "Elle. Maybe I'll come back in and let you know how I liked it."

That afternoon, as I took a break and sipped a fruit smoothie at the Starbucks inside the store, I checked my phone. McGee had sent me two text messages.

McGee: Hey, hope you are having a good day. We're headed out on a case.

McGee: So, I was hoping I'd get to see you today, but Gibbs is gonna have us

working late tonight...bad case. Call you later?

I smiled to myself. Sweet McGee. Then I cursed myself. How could I be thinking so fondly of McGee when Will had just been killed. His funeral was tomorrow afternoon and his visitation was tonight. I'd seen the obituary in the paper, which was the only way I'd find out, since his parents wouldn't talk to me anymore. Suddenly, a voice in my head asked, "wouldn't Will want you to be happy?" I smiled again. That little voice in my head was right.

Elle: I'm doing okay. Yes, you can call me. Tonight is visitation for Will and

then I'm thinking bout going home and writing some. I hope your case

is solved quickly.

I closed my phone and headed back to work.

At five o'clock, I headed home to change for visitation, hoping I wouldn't lose the nerve I'd gotten up to go. My main concern was seeing Will's parents again. I didn't want to cause a scene at the funeral home.

"McGee, isn't Lt. Rogers' visitation tonight?" Gibbs asked, walking into the bullpen at five-thirty.

"Um...yes, Boss. Why?" McGee replied, wondering what Gibbs' motive for asking was.

"Don't you think you should be there with Elle? I'd say she's gonna need you."

"But...you said we had to work late," McGee said uncertainly.

"Tony and Ziva can do your work," Gibbs told him. "Get going."