Disclaimer--I don't own NCIS, nor will I ever. I just like borrowing the characters every once in awhile and making them do what I want them to do.

A/N: This is set in season 6, sometime in the near-ish future of where the show is now. McGee is temporarily off the team due to injury, and Vance finds a replacement for him without consulting Gibbs first. What the team doesn't realize is that the replacement has some injuries of her own, but hers aren't as easy to heal--and don't just involve her.

Please R/R. I love your comments and suggestions!

Deep Lacerations


The five-year-old girl frowned in concentration as she studied the selection of crayons displayed on the counter in front of her, her eyes jumping from the box to the drawing she was working on. She thoughtfully pulled two crayons from the box—tumbleweed and copper—and studied them further before selecting tumbleweed with a nod of satisfaction, adding hair to the person she was drawing, humming slightly as she did so.

"Hello," a deeply accented voice said from the threshold of the kitchen door. The girl turned to face the dark-haired man, a confused expression on her face.

"Who are you? How did you get in?"

"I am a friend of your father," the man replied, taking a seat on the barstool next to the girl.

"My daddy is in Iraq," she said with authority. "He's in the war. My teacher says that everyone who fights in the war is a hero." She paused as she again considered the crayons, selecting one in the green spectrum. "My mommy says that he's a hero."

"It sounds like your mother is pretty smart."

She nodded. "She's a doctor."

"I know." His voice had suddenly gotten cold. The girl's light eyes snapped wide open in surprise at the click of a revolver's hammer. She knew that sound; she had heard it when her father showed her the gun and explained what it was for and why she shouldn't touch it until she was older. "If you scream, I'll blow your head off. Do you understand?" She nodded shakily. "Good. Now tell me: where is your mother?"

"Work," the girl managed.

"Who is watching you?"

"Jennie," she said, her voice still shaking. "The-the nanny."

"Where is your brother?"

"Upstairs. He's sleeping." She gave a small sob. "He's just a baby!"

"Shh," he said. "I am not going to hurt him. I am not going to hurt you, either, if you do what I say. Now, I want you to go upstairs and get your nanny and bring her back down here. Can you do that?" She nodded. "Good. Go." Not needing to be told twice, she bolted from the kitchen counter stool, tangled dark hair flying behind her.

Five minutes later, the nanny tied to one chair and the girl to another, the man pressed a button on the side of his cell phone and barked something that the girl couldn't understand. A minute after that, two men with dark hair and dark sweatshirts entered the Alexandria, VA townhouse, carrying a large object in a black bag between them. They heaved it onto the dining room table before walking away. A strange smile on his face, the first man walked over to the table. He stared at the bag for a minute before slowly pulling at the zipper handle. He turned back to the girl, that same strange smile still on his face. "Are you ready to see your daddy?" he asked before stepping out of her line of sight. Her eyes widened as she registered the form on the table.

She screamed.