Warnings: Mentions of child abuse. Spoilers for anything up to Season 7

A/N: So sorry that this is so late. RL and writer's block got in the way. I seemed to have found my grove again so hopefully I can get back to more frequent updates. This chapter is a bit shorter than the rest, but it's time to move onto the next arc of this story.

As always, your feedback is appreciated and I do read all your reviews even if I do not get the time to respond to them!

Guest- Thank you. I will never understand why people have to be mean and nasty to writers on here. If a story is not your cup of tea just stop reading and find something else to read. There are plenty of stories on this site to choose from.

Lieutenant Martin Westfled stood, not sat, in the interrogation room, staring blankly at the one-way mirror. His dark brown eyes were devoid of any emotion, giving him a robotic like appearance. Tony stood in Observation, arms over his chest, watching the stoic stance and feeling cold chills run up and down his spine.

Natalie, leading the interrogation, didn't seemed at all bothered by Westfled's lack of emotion. It had been about an hour since State Troopers had brought the escaping lieutenant back to the Navy Yard, and about forty-five minutes since the Boston detective had started her line of questioning. She was pretty much going easy on him, trying to earn his trust but had been met with very little results so far. "NCIS has a lot of evidence against you, Lieutenant. But I know…some people in the Boston D.A's office…if you cooperate with us on that Jane Doe we found…well…I might be able to get you a pretty sweet deal."

"Detective Callahan, I haven't been to Boston in a long time," Westfled said, refusing to look at her. "You must have me mistaken for some other guy."

She shook her head and pulled a piece of paper from her file. "Are you sure you haven't been to Boston? Your last ship assignment was in port the same week our Jane Doe was murdered, two weeks before you took the post here in Washington. Now, I haven't interviewed your former shipmates yet, but I bet they're going to tell me that you were there, in Boston. So…why'd you do it? Why kill her?"

Westfled's eyes flickered towards the detective and he scowled. "She was a partying whore," he snapped. "She got what she deserved."

"Are we talking about my Jane Doe…or your mother?"

Tony noticed that question got more of a reaction out of Westfled than anything else she had asked him yet. His face clouded over with anger and his glare hardened on the mirror in front of him. Tony clenched his fists at his sides, feeling nervous butterflies in his stomach. He hated the idea of leaving Natalie in there alone, with this monster who was capable of snapping at a single moment and snuffing the life out of someone. But Gibbs had insisted that it had to be Natalie.

Natalie hadn't argued and if she was nervous about being in the same room, alone, with a serial killer, she wasn't showing it. "Your mother, she was Navy right?" the detective asked pretending to look for something in her folder. "A lieutenant commander…interesting that my Jane Doe was found dressed in a uniform of a Navy lieutenant commander. She liked to party too, huh? Got drunk a lot…you were her punching bag."

"Yes, my mother abused me. Lots of kids get abused, Detective."

"Yes, but not a lot of kids grow up to be killers."

Westfled finally looked at her—a dark, predatory gleam in his eyes and Tony found himself inching towards the door ever so slightly. He didn't like this, hanging her out there like a piece of meat for the hungry lion to snatch up. But this is what the boss wanted. Even stated he'd sent Ziva in there alone countless times as well. However, Gibbs had often referred to Ziva as a weapon herself, and while Tony had no doubt that Natalie could handle herself, she couldn't kill someone eighteen different ways with a paperclip.

Gibbs, standing besides him silently, must have noticed his flinch. "Stand down, skippy. She's doing just fine."

Tony scowled at the team leader. "She gets him angry enough he could snap her neck before either of us gets in that room."

"I'm sure that the Boston Police Department taught her some line of self-defense," Gibbs responded with a slight grin.

"Is this the problem, Lieutenant? Your mother was a monster, who drank and partied too much and when you see women like her—you snap?"

"My mother got what she deserved. It was no surprise to me that she was killed the way she lived her life. But I didn't kill her."

"Finger prints found on her uniform suggest that you did."

Westfled stiffened and looked away, going back to staring at the wall. "The test must have been wrong."

Natalie shook her head. "No. No I don't think so. They were tested by some of the best forensic specialists that NCIS has. Doubt they botched a simple finger print match. Come on, Martin, just admit it." She got up from her chair and squared her shoulders. "You killed her. To end the nightmare, to get back at her all those times she hurt you. But it wasn't enough. So you killed someone else that looked like her, and you did it again and again because it was never enough."

"You can't prove anything," the Lieutenant hissed at her.

"Are you scared to admit that you became a monster….just like her?"

It happened in a flash, Tony wasn't even sure he thought coherently as he flew from the observation room as the table went flying through the air. Westfled was screaming at Natalie, cursing her and calling her vulgar names. By the time Tony flung the door to interrogation open, Natalie had her back to the wall, the file on the floor, papers scattered about. Tony's instincts took over. He rushed at the suspect. "Sit down!" he shouted, pushing Westfled into the chair. "You want to add assaulting a police officer to your laundry list of charges? Because I have no problem smacking you around a bit if you touch her."

"You won't touch me," Westfled growled, "They have rules against that."

"Go at her again—and all bets are off," Tony said, a threatening tone to his voice. He stepped between the detective and Westfled. "You're going a way for a long, long time, pal. You're probably going to die in jail—guess there is some justice in the world after all."

"I think we're done. I want a lawyer."

Tony glared at the lieutenant and gestured for Natalie to leave with him. Slamming the door shut behind him he glanced at the agents standing guard. "He doesn't go anywhere in this building without two escorts."

Natalie rolled her eyes as the two began to walk. "Two? Really? He sees the writing on the wall. It's why he reacted violently to me. It's why he reacted violently to Captain Lazaro questioning him about McGee's phone call."

"Wonderful. You're welcome by the way."

"For what exactly? Rushing in there and ending my interrogation?"

"Did you want to be his next snapped neck?"

"Pretty presumptuous of you—just like your pick in the Derby last year."

Tony stopped and glared at her. "McGee told you, didn't he?"

Natalie smiled, sweetly, "He was happy too. I'm surprised at you, Tony. I mean…you seem like a pretty smart guy…yet you took the advice of a psychic on which horse to bet on."

He scowled as they walked briskly towards the bullpen. "Listen. Abby had me go to this party with her…I drank….well…I couldn't even tell you what was in that drink—my judgment was a little impaired."

"That was Abby," McGee said, slamming his phone down when the pair appeared in the bullpen. "We got a positive DNA match on Amber's rape kit. Westfled is our guy."

"Good thing you guys are better at solving cases than placing bets," Natalie teased. "Or none of this would have come together so fast."

McGee shrugged his shoulders with a smile, even as Tony glared at him and snarled under his breath, "You're a dead man, probie."

Gibbs appeared in typical fashion than, coffee cup glued to his hand, "Can't kill him, DiNozzo. Already down one agent. I don't want to be down two."

Tony grumbled something and went to his desk. "Should I call JAG in?"

"Already been informed. Sending a lawyer now for Westfled. You get anything?" Gibbs asked, Natalie.

"He didn't confess to killing his mother or my Jane Doe, but with the evidence we have, well…he knows his time is limited," Natalie replied. "I'm sure once jail time gets thrown about he'll start talking—anything to lessen his sentence."

Tony scrunched is face up in disgust. "No way he gets anything less than life."

Natalie turned to face him. "They could argue mental instability."

"It would never fly," the senior field threw back. "He knew right from wrong."

"Again that's pretty presumptuous of you."

"I swear to God, Callahan, you better not even breathe the word derby."

Gibbs chuckled, sipped his coffee and glanced towards the stairs. There was something that he needed to talk to Vance about before they officially wrapped this case up.

"Lieutenant Westfled is our killer then?" Vance inquired, when Gibbs appeared in his office. "Who knew that such a quiet, well respected officer had such a dark side?"

"It's always the quiet ones you have to look out for, Leon," Gibbs said with a shrug. "DiNozzo's booked him and JAG's coming over to lay out the fine details. But, chances are he's going to take a deal and this isn't going to trial."

Vance nodded. "Did Detective Callahan get what she was looking for?"

Gibbs raised his brows in thought. "Well, Lieutenant Westfled certainly murdered his mother—in the same fashion that Callahan's Jane Doe was murdered…fourteen other victims between them too—yeah, I think she got exactly what she was looking for."

"Did you?"

"Depends. Did you approve what I asked for?"

Vance smiled, slightly and reached for a piece of paper on his desk. "Your gut telling you this is the right thing to do?"

Gibbs snatched the paper from the Director before he could change his mind. "Oh, yeah, definitely, Leon. I think you'll see eventually I'm right."

"As hard as this is to believe, Gibbs. I do trust you."

"Yeah. I know, Leon."

Vance sighed and sat back down at his desk. "Well then," he said, softly, "here's hoping that your gut has it right."

By the time JAG had tied everything up in neat, legal little bows, it was close to midnight. Natalie had called Boston, informed them that with NCIS' help she was able to close their Jane Doe case. After being grilled by Natalie, then Gibbs and Tony, Westfled had been primed to talk to JAG when they showed up. She had his statement now confessing to the crime, a name to their victim, and finally some closure to this case that had been nagging at her since the body first turned up.

"So, heading back to Boston?" Tony asked with a gentle smile, breaking into her thoughts. "

"Yes. My flight leaves in the morning," Natalie replied, packing her laptop away in it's leather bag. She slipped the strap over her shoulder. "Thanks," she told him with a smile. "I…I don't think I could have closed this case without you guys helping me."

Tony tipped his head slightly. "Anytime, Callahan. Going to miss you around here. It was nice having more than McTechnobabble to talk too."

Natalie smiled one last time and said her good-byes. McGee was on the phone but held his hand up in a wave, and Tony just let his smile fade ever so slightly. She turned about and headed towards the elevator, pressing the button. When the doors opened, she was surprisingly not alarmed that Gibbs was there was his coffee. By her count it was his tenth cup that day. Or, it could now be considered his first cup of today, since it was after midnight.

Gibbs looked at her, fondly. "Going home?"

"Yes," she said, "Flight leaves first thing in the morning for Logan."

"How long will it take you to pack?" Gibbs asked, taking a sip of his coffee as he stepped out of the elevator.

"Pack…pack what? My things in my hotel room? I...barely unpacked."

Gibbs handed her a piece of paper. Not bothering to say a word, just stood there sipping his coffee, gauging her reactions.

Natalie read it over slightly confused. "This is my NCIS application….but I didn't fill one out."

"I did. All it needs is your signature on the dotted line," Gibbs replied with a grin on his face.

"Does Director Vance know about this?"

"He approved it. So, yes. Go on...sign it."

"Are you offering me a job?" Natalie asked.

Gibbs took a sip of his coffee and smiled as a memory ran through his head. Is that a job offer? Kate's voice echoed in his brain. "You'll learn I have a lot of rules, and one of them is you don't waste good. You're good at what you do, Callahan. So, that job offer...well it depends. Are you up for the challenge?"

Natalie thought about it for the briefest of seconds and then snatched the pen he was holding out to her. This was totally on impulse. It wasn't like she was looking for a new job. She loved her job. Loved Boston. But there had been something different about working with Gibbs and his team. At first she thought it was because she wasn't used to them, but as the case moved on, she realized it was because these agents were passionate about the job and they cared deeply for each other. As she handed the application back to Gibbs she thought, fleetingly, God I hope I know what I'm doing.