Author Note: Well, this is my second Trauma Team fic, even though it was the first one I started writing. (And I've noticed both of them are centered around characters who aren't given first names. -_- Huh.) I got the idea for this fic after watching Naomi's bonus scene thing. The one you get after beating the game. Unlike my other story, I tried to focus on descriptions and actions vs. being dialogue-heavy. I think it turned out nicely.
A couple of you said that I should write more for this fandom so here you are. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Me. No. Own. Trauma Team. End of story. Er- no. It's the beginning of this one.

Please read, enjoy and review.

A Favor
A Trauma Team Fanfiction

Agent Navel sat at his computer, pouring through the FBI database. Stacks of manila folders sat piled on his desk; photos of evidence and data analyses were strewn about, along with several open computer files, containing more of the same. After flickering back and forth between numerous files and consulting another record in the database, he learned forward and rested his head on his palm.

"Another dead end." A heavy sigh forced its way out of his mouth. He drew up his coffee mug, office chair creaking as it reclined, and took a good, long swig. "That woman works me like a dog."

As if on cue, there was a ringing sound from the computer. "Speak of the devil," he muttered as he went about answering the voice chat call.

Naomi's voice followed, without so much as a greeting. "Little Guy, I need your help with something."

"I haven't finished analyzing your previous requests, Dr. Kimishima," he muttered, staring at the little cartoon image of Naomi displayed in the corner of his screen.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." He took another sip of his coffee. "What do you need me to analyze?"

"It's not that. I… need your help with something."

He leaned closer to the computer. In the background of the call, the agent could hear another voice. It was high pitched and stressed. "Huh. This sounds serious. What do you need?"

"Come down to my office as soon as you can." The doctor's voice was as unreadable as ever.

"A-alright. I'll be right there!" The call ended with a click. Without a moment's hesitation, he was out the door.

Agent Navel quickly made his way through the hallways of C.I.F.M until he came to Naomi's office on the other side of the facility. He turned the knob and stepped inside. "Dr. Kimishima, what's wr-"

"Hello there!"

"Wha-?" The agent's path was obstructed by a small, brown-haired girl. She gave a little wave. "Alyssa? What are you doing-?"

"Ah, Little Guy." The silver-haired doctor appeared behind Alyssa. "Good, you're here."

"Oh! Dr. Kimishima! Um." He squared his shoulders and regarded her professionally. "You needed me for something?"

His answer came from Alyssa. "It's lunch time!" she chirped.

"Uh…" Little Guy glanced past the two at the clock on the far wall. "1:12, I guess it is." His gaze returned to the doctor. "So… what did you need?"

Naomi put her hands on Alyssa's shoulders. "A favor."

He frowned. "A favor?"

"I'm hungry." Alyssa interjected, staring up at him with big green eyes.

"Yes, I'm sorry to ask you to do this," Naomi's own blue eyes were hesitant, "but could you take Alyssa down to the kitchen and get her something to eat?"

Of the reasons why she'd asked him to come to her office that he'd considered, that one was not on the list. "Huh?" The agent blinked several times as he processed the request.

Dr. Kimishima made a sound of amusement at her assistant's reaction. Even so, she looked down and began stroking Alyssa's hair, hiding her embarrassment behind her dark lashes. "You heard me."

"Ah, but, Dr. Kimishima…" Her coy retort had caused his face to flush a little. "…why can't you-"

"I-" For a split second, her stormy blue eyes were panicked before they darted over to her desk and the well-used computer. "I'm on the verge of solving a case, and I'm afraid if I stop now…"

It was strange and bemusing to see his boss so flustered. Little Guy could tell she wasn't telling the whole truth, but whatever the reason was, it was probably alright to let go.

He held up his hand. "Say no more. I'll take her."

Naomi's expression softened, returning to its usual calm state. She gave him a small smile. "Thanks." Next, she knelt down in front of Alyssa and set her hands on her shoulders. "Alyssa. Little Guy is going to take you down to the kitchen for lunch. I want you to listen and stay close to him and to not cause any trouble." She emphasized the last part. "Understand?"

The little girl nodded with enthusiasm. "Uh-huh!"

"Good." But as soon as Naomi stood up, Alyssa raced to her assistant.

"Yay! I have a date with Little Guy!"

"Date?" Agent Navel's face reddened as the little girl clasped onto his arm and attempted to haul him out the door.

Naomi's hand made its way up to hide her involuntary smirk.

Her assistant cast one more helpless glance before the child's insistent tugging was able to drag him away. Naomi closed the door behind them.

She quietly returned to her desk, where numerous files were neatly stacked and the computer screen stalled on the plain steel gray desktop. Despite Little Guy's efforts, she'd already solved the case and everything was put away. She was only waiting for her assistant's results to double check, but she was confident in her conclusion.

Soon her thoughts returned to her assistant. Should she have really asked him to do this for her? Could Little Guy really handle a child as hyper as Alyssa? She sat there, and sighed. "I really should take some cooking lessons…"

"I'm on a date with Little Guy! I'm on a date with Little Guy!"

"Alyssa, shh!" The agent was trying in vain to cease Alyssa's cheerful chanting as they walked through the halls together. Well, the latter was skipping.

Little Guy's face burned whenever they passed someone, only for them to turn away and hide their giggles or to give him the strangest looks.

The chant came to an abrupt halt. "Can I hold your hand?" The little girl asked in sweet voice.

"Uh…"

Before he could give an answer, Alyssa's little fingers coiled around his own and jerked his arm up and down as she skipped. "Hehehehe."

"Ugh…" The FBI agent used his free hand to cover his face.

"We're here…" Little Guy announced through clenched teeth.

"Yaaaaay!" Alyssa let go of his hand, much to his relief, and raced into C.I.F.M's kitchen. With much effort she climbed onto one of the tall leather-seated bar stools pulled up to the kitchen island.

Little Guy proceeded further into the room. For a coroner office and forensic lab, the kitchen was rather luxurious. It boasted polished granite countertops in black, vibrant cherry wood floors and cupboards of the same material. There was a complete range and oven combo, a fully stocked fridge, and various other small appliances, all the same glossy stainless steel. No vending machines here.

He scanned over the countertops. "Huh, I thought Caroline usually left out a basket of muffins or something."

"Muffins!" Alyssa squeaked. "We should make muffins!"

"Make?" Little Guy searched through the cupboards for something that might be appealing to a 8-year-old girl. It seemed none of his co-workers were fond of brightly packaged snack packs and he didn't think Chief Wayne would like it if they stole the expensive deli sandwich that he found wrapped in wax paper in the fridge.

"We should make something!" she repeated.

Little Guy searched harder. "I really don't think we have time…"

"I wanna make something," she pouted, her voice dropping dangerously.

The agent stiffened; if she was normally this hyper, he did not want to see what she was like when she was upset. In order to prevent this, he caved. "All right. So what is it you want to make?"

Like it had never happened, Alyssa was as cheerful as ever. "We need a cookbook!"

"Okay…." Little Guy opened the cupboards above the range and found several. He shook his head, "This kitchen has everything…" before selecting one and setting it before Alyssa.

She immediately flipped to the dessert section; Little Guy rolled his eyes. On the second page she flipped to, she pressed her finger to the picture and announced, "That!"

Little Guy leaned over the book. The upside down picture was that of a steaming pastry sitting in a windowsill. "Apple pie?" he asked. "Alyssa, I don't think we-"

"I wanna make that!" she insisted, voice going into the danger zone again.

"All right! All right!" Little Guy gave in hastily.

Alyssa beamed. "Goody!" She slid off the stool and walked through the kitchen. "Now we gotta get the ingredients."

Little Guy rubbed his neck and sighed. It seemed everyone related to Dr. Kimishima had him wrapped around their little finger...

Surprisingly, they were able to find everything they needed in the C.I.F.M kitchen, right down to the pie tin. Alyssa was very enthusiastic, insisting on doing everything herself. All Little Guy was allowed to do was read the recipe instructions to her and perform any steps that involved a knife.

"Do you like to cook, Mr. Agent Man?" Alyssa asked him as she watched him dice the apples.

He chuckled at the name she'd given him. "Yeah, I like it more or less. My mom and I always used to bake together when I was your age."

"Ooh, that sounds like fun!"

He set the knife down and handed off the bowl of apple slices for her to empty into the tin.

"Naomi doesn't like to cook," she informed him, handing the bowl back.

"She doesn't?"

"Mm-mm." She took a pinch of sugar and sprinkled it over the apples, giggling.

"Hey! No more of that! You've already done that like five times! It doesn't need anymore!"

She just giggled more. Little Guy sighed.

When he turned to consult the recipe, Alyssa continued what she was saying. "That's why we eat out all the time. She only knows how to make curry, 'cause she went to Indiana. And it's reeeeally spicy!"

"'Indiana?'" He chuckled. "I think you mean India." After taking in everything she'd said, Little Guy blinked and turned to her with one raised eyebrow. "Wait, are you saying she doesn't know how to cook?"

"Nope."

"Huh." A smirk spread across the agent's face. He now knew the real reason behind the favor the doctor had asked him. "She doesn't know how to cook," he mused. "Well then. Heh, that's just funny."

"I think we gotta put on the top crust now."

His new thoughts of his boss had to be put on hold however. "Oh, right." He grabbed the wad of leftover dough and began to roll it out.

Alyssa watched the rolling pin go back and forth. "But you're a good cook, Mr. Agent."

He chuckled. "I'm glad you think so."

A few more steps and soon Alyssa's apple pie was baking in the oven. All they had to do was wait. Something Alyssa was not fond of doing.

Little Guy rapped on the office door several times before turning the knob. "Dr. Kimishima?"

"Come in, Little Guy."

He pushed the door forward and stepped inside. The red and black furnishings of Naomi's office were dimly lit; she had shut off most the lights and pulled the shades. Like a silvery ghost, she peered at him from where she sat at her desk, elbows propped up, supporting her chin. "Where's Alyssa?" she inquired.

"I'm having Caroline watch her," he told her, jabbing over his shoulder with his thumb. "I'll be going back there in a minute. I thought you might not want your… break, to end just yet."

She smiled weakly. "How thoughtful."

"And I thought I might bring this to you." He set down the dish he'd been carrying in front of her.

"What's this?"

"Apple Pie."

"What's the occasion?"

"Lunch."

She glanced up at him with a mild disapproving look. "You don't really understand the concept of parenting, do you?"

Little Guy shrugged. "She insisted."

"Oh yes, because when a child insists on doing something you should always allow it." She was teasing him now.

"Hey, it was a pretty big hit with the staff. I managed to snag you the last piece."

"In that case, I'll cherish it always."

His head dropped as he laughed pathetically. "Just eat it already."

Naomi smirked, her assistant was a fun one to play with. She picked up the fork but stalled. She studied the slice of pie, as if she could learn the recipe by studying the end result.

"So…" Little Guy leaned against the wall that her desk sat on. "Heard you can't cook."

That was subtle.

It was hard to see in the dim light, Naomi flinched at this statement. "Did she tell you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"So what if I don't know how to cook?" She challenged him with her eyes. "I can do lots of other things. Why should I have to know how to cook too?"

Little Guy held up his hands to hold back the flood. "Oh. No, there's nothing wrong with it. In fact, it's probably a good thing."

She stared at him with one eyebrow raised skeptically. "How do you figure that?"

"Well, if I didn't know that, then I might have actually started believing you could do anything." He ended the sentence with a faded chuckle.

"How sweet," she cooed.

"Eh…" Little Guy's cheeks turned a rosy pink.

Naomi took her first bite of the pastry. "Hmm, this is good."

"I-is it?"

"It is." She stood up and strode over to him while she took another bite. "Mm, you know, you're a pretty good chef."

"Um…" He could feel his cheeks flush an even darker color. Why did that always have to happen when she was around; it was embarrassing.

She began adjusting his tie. "So good, that I think I'm going to appoint you to be in charge of Alyssa's lunch meals from now on."

"Uh…" Her stormy blue eyes had him frozen on the spot.

"Goodbye, Little Guy." She smiled before floating out the office door with her half a slice of apple pie, leaving him by himself.

After he had a moment to recover, he fully absorbed what she'd just told him. "Wait- Doctor!" He'd started for the door before realizing that she was already gone. The matter ended the way most things ended with her. "Oh well…"

He shuffled out of the room and he made his way to Caroline's office.

Naomi always knew just how to make him do whatever she wanted him to. He guessed he'd just have to sic Alyssa on her for that.