After dinner, Tim and I walked outside, but before I could climb into his small sports car, he stopped me.

"Why don't we walk down to this park for a little while? I could use a little fresh air after being in that tiny restaurant for so long," he told me.

I smiled, leaning against his arm. "Sure. I don't have anywhere else I need to be," I replied.

Tim leaned down and kissed my forehead. "You're always so easy-going. If more women were like you, I might not have been available when we met."

When we got to the park, I realized what McGee was doing. This was the park where I had cried on his shoulder after our meeting in the coffee shop.

"Oh my gosh," I whispered, stopping dead in my tracks as we approached the bench.

"Do you remember this spot?" Tim asked me quietly, turning towards me.

I nodded, trying to grasp what was happening. McGee led me over to the bench and sat me down, then knelt.

"Elle, my life has never been the same since that day you cried on my shoulder. I know we met under the worst of circumstances, but now things are different. I love you more than anything in the world," McGee told me. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small box.

I gasped, placing my hand over my heart. "You're asking me to marry you?"

Tim nodded. "That's right. You're the love of my life and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, Elle Charlton, I'm asking you flat out; will you marry me?"

I tried to breathe, but somehow it was more difficult than I'd ever experienced. "Yes," I told him. "I'll marry you, Tim."

He slid the ring onto my finger and then put his hands on either side of my face and pressed his lips to mine as we stood up simultaneously. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body against his.

"You little bitch!" someone swore furiously behind us. "I knew you were worth nothing!"

McGee broke away from our kiss and turned around, keeping one arm around my waist at the same time. I was taken aback when I saw Will's father, Mr. Rogers, standing there. I hadn't seen any of his family since the funeral.

"What are you doing, Mr. Rogers?" I demanded to know, shivering with fear, despite McGee's arm around me. He wasn't carrying his gun, since he was off-duty.

"I'm here to give you what you deserve. It is your fault that who I loved his dead, and now I'm going to take away the person you love." He pulled a gun out of his coat pocket.

The next thirty seconds happened in a flash. McGee went to push Elle out of the way just as two loud gunshots rang out. She lay beneath him, motionless, and he felt something warm and wet on his hand. Then he smelled blood, like rust. She had been hit and she looked up at him with eyes full of shock and horror.

Tim looked up to see Mr. Rogers looking confused and enraged. He took one look at McGee, then fired two more times, striking the NCIS agent in the shoulder and the side. Then, he turned and fled.

McGee lay on his side for a minute, trying to conquer the pain that was coursing through his body. Hands shaking, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. It took him over thirty seconds to dial 9-1-1 and when he tried to tell them what had happened, his mind seemed to be on a ten second delay.

"We're dispatching units to your location right away, sir," the dispatcher told him after he'd managed to tell her that he and Elle had been shot in the Lincoln Street Park.

Rolling over onto his side, McGee checked Elle's pulse while he hit Speed Dial 1 on his phone, calling Gibbs. Elle's pulse was faint, but steady. Her shirt was covered with blood and she was unconscious. He couldn't tell where the wound were exactly, though.

"Yeah, Gibbs," McGee's boss answered the phone.

"Boss..." Tim gasped. "Rogers...shot...us. Need...help." He lapsed into unconsciousness and the phone hit the pavement.

That's all Gibbs needed to hear. He jumped up from his desk chair. Ziva and Tony had just headed towards the elevator.

"Ziva! DiNozzo! Get back here! We've got a problem!"

At the urgency in Gibbs' voice, the two NCIS agents whirled around and came running back.

"What's wrong, Boss?" Tony wanted to know, putting his back-pack down beside his desk.

"I just got a call from McGee. He and Elle are in trouble. Tony, run a trace on his cell phone and find out where they are. Ziva, check McGee's computer and see if you can find out what restaurant they were having dinner at," Gibbs ordered his team members. They immediately they went to work.

"They were having dinner at Walter's on Lincoln Street," Ziva announced, looking up from McGee's computer. "That's only two miles from here."

"I've got his cell phone records," Tony called, hunched over his keyboard. There was a hint of panic in his voice as he spoke. "He's in the Lincoln Street Park, two blocks from here. He placed a call to 9-1-1 just before he called you."

"Let's go," Gibbs told them, grabbing his gun and badge from the drawer.

When the three of them arrived at the park, the place was a sea of red and blue lights. Ziva counted two ambulances and five cop cars.

"What the hell has McGee done now?" Tony wanted to know, getting out of the car as fast as he could. He was trying to hide how worried he was about his friend.

Gibbs saw Elle in one ambulance and McGee on the other. "Tony and Ziva, check on Elle. I'll see about McGee." He headed towards the nearest ambulance where McGee was lying on a stretcher.

"Boss," Tim breathed, seeing Gibbs come to his side. "It's good to see you."

"How's he doing?" Gibbs asked the EMT, seeing the blood that soaked McGee's clothes.

"He's going to be fine. We just need to get him to a hospital right away," the man replied, setting up an IV in Tim's arm.

"Boss, it was Lt. Rogers' father. He shot us. I need you to take care of this...please."

Gibbs nodded. "I'll handle of it. Now, get to the hospital. I'll see you there."

"Boss...Elle?"

"I don't know yet. Ziva and Tony are with her now. I'll let you know."