Author's Note: This is the first time I've ever written NCIS fic. I'm usually a sci-fi girl. I'd like to know if anyone thinks the story would be interesting enough to keep going with it.

Author's Note Update: I've added to the prologue and have started work on the first chapter. Because I'm used to writing sci-fi, I'm looking for one or two people that would be willing to read new material before I post. If you think you'd like to do it, drop me a line.

Insert usual disclaimer here. I, of course, don't own any part of any of the canon characters. The plot line and the OC's...that's all mine.

No Easy Answers

Prologue

He stared down at the picture in his hands and felt his stomach clench.

"When was this taken?"

McGee stopped typing abruptly and looked up, "Ummm..." he fumbled for the words.

"McGee!"

"48 hours ago, boss. It was taken by a local newspaper at a local fair in Montana five months ago."

He looked back down at the photograph and swallowed. He felt himself sit down, his vision beginning to blur slightly. Slowly he traced the woman's face. The line of her jaw, the smile, they were both familiar to him. He stood up again, "And we're sure it's her?"

McGee nodded, "Yes, boss, we're sure."

"And the girl?" he asked again, looking at the picture once more.

There was a short pause.

"It's her daughter, boss," the answer came quietly from across the room. Tony walked across the short distance and stopped in front of his desk, "And, yeah, we're sure about that too."

Gibbs felt his world slip slightly off it's axis. She was alive. After three years of searching, three years of trying not to let himself imagine the worst, he knew she was alive. It should have made him feel some sense of relief, but as he stared at the picture, into eyes that were all to familiar, he felt something else. No, it wasn't just relief he felt. There was anger, too.

After three years he had more questions than answers, but now he knew where to go to get them.

She had a lot of explaining to do.

Bryn shivered as she opened the front door. The frigid December air rushed past her and she pulled her sweater tighter around her. The morning was clear and ice crystals clung to everything, sparkling in the burgeoning light. She watched the light dance across her snow covered yard and took a deep breath. She'd settled in Bozeman a year ago, deciding that if no one had come looking after two years, it was likely no one would. Her daughter had needed a home, a place to feel safe and secure.

Safe and secure.

There had been a time when she thought she'd always feel that way. Always know where things stood in her life. Three years ago all of that had changed. Three years ago everything she'd been sure of had disappeared. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and stepped back into the house.

After three years she had started to settle into her new life, her new world. The day she'd bought this house, she'd told herself she was happy. She told herself she had put the past behind her, left it long ago. When the letter had shown up in her mail box three days ago, she'd discovered that wasn't true.

She padded quietly down the hall and stopped in front of her daughter's bedroom. Siobhan was still sleeping. Her face calm and quiet and flushed with the warmth of sleep. She walked softly to the bed and sat down on the edge, her fingers caressing her daughter's cheek. She leaned down and kissed the little girl on the cheek before getting up again.

She walked to her closet and pulled down her suitcase. Dropping it onto the bed she flipped it open and began to pack. The letter had changed everything. When she left three years ago, she had believed she was ending it, now she knew she had only slowed the inevitable. The moment she had seen the bright red ink, she'd known she would have to go back.