*Reposting this chapter because there were some inconsistencies with dates*

Well I guess I should first say that I don't own NCIS:LA or its characters.

Most of my writing has a soundtrack that I listen to as I write. The story isn't written for the songs but the songs go along with the writing like a movie soundtrack. As the soundtrack changes I'll make sure I post the new song. So please try and listen to each while you're reading.

I hope you enjoy reading this, my first fanfiction, as much as I did writing it. Please bear with me as I introduce a new agent and establish her relationship with each team member. It's neede to get the story started and once it is it will move much faster.

Well bless my soul, you're a lonely soul, cause you won't let go, of anything you hold

Well all I need, is the air I breathe, and a place to rest my head…

:OneRepublic – Say (All I need):

::Chapter One::

Two point three seconds – that was the amount of time it took for anything she saw to imprint itself in her brain in perfect detail. One point seven seconds – the amount of time it took for her to perfectly recall any specific part of that image. 15 years – the time took the government to find out about her "talent" and exploit it.

The government had kept her close for many years, using her skills for various missions from undercover in the field, to watching monitors for homeland security. And she hadn't fought their decisions, she had done her duty for her country just as her parents would have expected. But at twenty-eight she began to test the boundaries, and the more she pushed, the more ground she was given, until she had finally requested this transfer along with her ultimatum. That they either transfer her to NCIS under Henrietta Lang or she would be resigning her post effective immediately.

They had agreed, as she knew they would, with a few stipulations of course, but in the end she had gotten what she had wanted without having to do anything she didn't. Besides it was easier for them to agree than for her to resign. If she resigned they would have to round her up and most likely terminate her, which would mean a lot of man hours and be very messy.

And now here she was in sunny California, sitting in the middle of the room staring at a smart board covered in almost 50 images at a time scanning each for something that might have been missed by the other members of the team.

"Find anything Miss Faraday," a gravelly woman's voice came from behind her suddenly.

Although it would have startled most people to have someone suddenly speak to them in an otherwise almost empty room, Reagan had heard her stealthy entrance.

She shook her head, "Not yet, but I still have twenty-five images still to go through."

"Twenty-five? You mean you've screened the other 475 photos?"

Reagan shrugged, "I've been sitting here about twenty minutes."

Hetty smiled, "Eighteen point two to be exact.'

Reagan finally turned to look at her, "You're timing me?" she asked incredulously.

"Checking to see if I really got my money's worth, or if it was just all piss and wind."

Reagan laughed, "And?"

"So far, my dear, you're the real deal. But the real test is when you have to face them."

Hetty turned slightly and nodding to the four special agents clustered together outside the room. Reagan felt the sweat begin to bead on her brow. She was surprised at her response to the interrogation that she would soon sit through with the four agents. She had done this before. She'd been interrogated by much worse than this, but none of them had ever mattered before. None of them had been what she wanted and work for.

"Relax Miss Faraday. They may look tuff but remember, each one of them was the new agent at one time," Hetty placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes and each one of them is remembering that right now and planning on giving better than he got!" Reagan mumbled, but her eyes and mind were scanning the last twenty-five images.

"There!" she whispered, surprised, "Image number 493. That officer off to the left of the photo, he hasn't appeared once in any of the previous images and he's not sweating. Every other officer and agent has appeared in a number of other images and each by the end photos is tired, disheveled, and sweating. They were at the crime scene for hours in the hot sun. That officer looks too perfect, like he just arrived, and at this point officers were starting to leave. Better chance of being over looked and no one questioning you."

Hetty enlarged that area of the image, "Are you sure? Could you have missed him in an image earlier?"

Reagan sat back and closed her eyes and mentally scanned through the images in her mind. She shook her head.

"No, this is the first image he appeared in, and he is in only one other. There – image 497. Look he's putting something in his pocket."

Hetty put a hand to her ear, "Eric, take this image and I.D. this man. And as for you my dear, it's time for trial by fire."

Reagan took a deep breath and stood, nervously straightening her pencil skirt and adjusting her glasses. Hetty opened the door and the four agents walked in. She studied them, trying to read each as they entered to room.

The four of them stood clustered together watching the girl in the ops room scan through images at an unheard of rate.

"Anyone know who she is," Marty look at each of the other three.

"Not a clue. Tried to call in some favors to get her file but apparently she's top level security." Callen said.

"Eric hasn't found a thing on her. She's completely off the grid. No aliases or anything." Sam offered.

"So basically she doesn't exist," Kensi sighed.

"Reagan Jace Faraday. Born April 7th of 1983. Parents: father - Jace William Faraday – 4 star Admiral Navy Seal – Mother – Lauren Regina (Holt) Faraday – leading US geneticist – both deceased (murdered June 27, 1998) never solved." Nate began quoting from a file he held in his hands as he joined the group.

"Okay so you have about as much information as the rest of us. Tell us that file has something that we can go on to get some idea who this girl is?" Sam tried to glance at it.

"No, nada, I even asked Hetty for the file she has, but it was no deal. The few times I had the pleasure to meet Miss Faraday she was perfectly vague and sweet. It appears she knew I was a psychologist, and managed to appear professional without doing anything that might have given me something to go on.

"No siblings, she was the sole heir of her parents sizable estate but hasn't touched a dime of it. She set up a foundation for orphans of military parents with the interest the estate collects for a year. She was recruited by the government at the age of 15 and has worked with every military branch and agency except for us. Coming to NCIS was the only move that seems to have been her choice. Looks like everyone wanted her but she wanted us."

"Fifteen, what the hell would the government want with a fifteen year old?" Sam asked looking at her through the plantation shades of the room.

"And what would make her want that?" Marty Deeks asked.

"She's alone, no family, no friends, not really sure of who she is or where she belongs. Working here gives her a chance to try on different identities, see if one fits," Callen said to no one in particular.

"She lost her parents and their murders were never solved. Going under cover gives her a chance to possibly find her parent's murderers and to hide from them if she was a missed target," Kensi mused.

"Her dad was a Seal. She was raised with a stringent code of honor. She may feel that it's her duty to her father to work NCIS," Sam offered.

Deeks shrugged, "Or she's completely off her rocker just like the rest of us!"

"Or that," Callen agreed, with Sam and Kensi nodding their agreement.

Nate just stood back and listened to them banter with a look of contentment on his face. He watched their demeanor changed as Hetty opened the door of the ops center and invite them in. He looked at Reagan and felt that physical jolt all men must experience when they first see her. She was truly exquisite to look at, and her mind was just as fascinating. She truly was a dangerous combination.

The few times Nate had met her she had worn the tortoise shell glasses and the severe hair style, but something didn't resonate comfortably for him. He felt it was almost as though she used them as a barrier between herself and the rest of the world.

"Holy shit," he heard Deeks whisper as they walked into the room.

Nate tried not to laugh, thinking that had been his same reaction. About a second later he heard a soft whistle from Sam and a slight "damn" from Callen. Kensi got one look at her and visibly stiffened.

"Miss Faraday, I would like to introduce the team to you; Agent G. Callen, Agent Sam Hanna, Agent Kensi Blye, and LAPD Liaison Marty Deeks. Everyone this is Miss Reagan Faraday.

"Miss Faraday has reviewed all of the images from the Hassan case. She has found some new things that Eric is checking into as we speak. I am sure you have some questions for her so I will leave you all to it. Nate if you would come with me," Hetty announced.

"But I –"

"Nate, with me please," Hetty responded.

He looked at Reagan who smiled confidently and watched him leave. As the doors closed behind him he turned to Hetty.

"You should have let me stay. They're going to eat her alive," he started.

Hetty looked at him, "If that is the case Mr. Getz, then Miss Faraday doesn't belong in that room. Despite Miss Faraday looking like a breakable porcelain doll, she is very capable of holding her own with anyone of them in them in that room. And since you have read her file you know that."

"Actually there is nothing in the file I have. Her personal information, parent's births and deaths, and the agency's she's worked for before she made the choice to come to NCIS. But you knew that already."

"Come on Nate, Miss Faraday will be fine. Trust me."