All righty, next chapter! Even though it's . . . like . . . six in the morning here . . . *insert cricket chirps* . . . Anyway, enjoy!

By the way, this is dedicated to icallringbearer for having the weight of being the first reader on this story. She's awesome, and look at her profile and read her stories. AWESOME!

***

NCIS Navy Yard

Washington D.C., Capitol of the United States of America

Director Leon Vance put the phone down back into its cradle, then looked up at the redheaded woman that was seated at the table, an ice pack on her neck. "Are you all right, Agent Romanoff?"

"I’m fine, Director," Natasha replied, wincing a little as she nodded. "Just in a little pain."

"Completely understood," he assured her. "Do you have any memory of your attacker?"

Natasha shook her head. "No. It was dark in the corridor. It was definitely a man, though."

"Most likely our killer," Gibbs put in.

Natasha jumped, then looked over at Gibbs, who was seated in one of the chairs in the corner of the office. "When did you get here?"

"I followed you in," Gibbs replied dryly.

Natasha scowled, then looked back at Director Vance as he stood. "Agent Romanoff, I’m going to have you at your desk for today. You will be back in the field tomorrow."

Natasha opened her mouth to argue, but when she saw the firm look in Vance’s face and the care in Gibbs’s eyes, she closed it again. "Yes, sir," she replied.

"You both are dismissed," he told them.

Natasha stood and instantly went for the door, opening it and exiting his office. On her way out, she paused at the railing that overlooked the bullpen. As she looked down into it, she could see Ziva, McGee, and Tony looking up at her in worry. Standing at Ziva’s desk was a black-haired girl in a lab coat, and she was pretty worried.

"They’re all worried about you."

 ***

Gibbs watched Natasha jump again as he came up and stood beside her. "Will you stop doing　that!" she snapped.

"What?" Gibbs asked innocently.

Natasha gestured vaguely with her hand. "That!"

"Natasha, we’re worried about you," Gibbs told her again. "Whoever attacked you wanted to make sure you were out of the investigation. Why?"

Natasha looked back down at the bullpen, obviously deep in thought. Gibbs tried again. "If the Director had his way, he would’ve tied you to your desk for this entire case," he informed her. "I struck him down."

Natasha looked at Gibbs. "Why?"

"This man knows you," Gibbs replied simply. "If we put you out in the field, he’ll come back to try and harm you again."

"So I’m bait," Natasha concluded.

Gibbs winced. "Yes."

Natasha grinned. "Fine by me. I just want to punch him in the gut."

Gibbs smiled and followed Natasha as she walked down the stairs into the bullpen. "I told the Director that, too. His only comment was that he pitied your attacker."

"He better," Natasha agreed, sitting on Gibbs’s desk.

"What have we got?" Gibbs asked to no one in particular.

Ziva stepped forward. "Commander Rosalie Jenkins, Navy SEAL, age 38," she reported, reading a file as the Commander’s ID appeared on the screen. "She never married. Her twin brother Ryan always stated that she was married to her work."

"That’s a SEAL," Gibbs agreed.

"Her C.O., Admiral Joseph Watson, trained her when she joined the Navy at age 20," Ziva continued. "He recommended her for the SEALs when she was 26, was admitted in when she was 29."

"Young for a SEAL," Natasha remarked.

"Not if she was dedicated to her country," Ziva countered. "She was recommended for the Silver Star. Admiral Watson will dedicate it to her at her funeral."

"He’s a good man," Gibbs commented. He turned to Tony. "Next."

"Lieutenant Mariana Sears," Tony replied, taking over. "Navy SEAL, age 36. Her C.O., ironically, was Commander Jenkins. Just as Admiral Watson did, Jenkins recommended Sears to the SEALs when she was 26, but she was admitted at age 31. Her husband is Mark Sears, he’s being informed as we speak."

"Both young SEALs, and both were perfect examples to follow," McGee summed up. "What was a cause to murder them?"

"Find out," Gibbs ordered, then turned to the silent girl in the lab coat. "Do you have something, Abby?"

Abby Sciuto shook her head. "Nope." She leaned over and hugged Natasha hard. "Just that."

With that, she waved and went in the direction of the elevator.

Natasha watched her go, then smiled and walked over to her desk. "Good girl, Abby," she commented happily. "Always knows how to make me feel better."

"That’s good," Gibbs agreed, sitting down at his own desk.

The phone at Natasha’s desk rang, and she picked it up. "Romanoff," she announced herself, then listened for a few seconds. "Yes, I will meet you there in ten minutes. Thank you, Admiral."

"Admiral Watson?" Tony asked.

"Yes," Natasha replied, standing and gathering her things. "He’s been looking over the security footage, and he found something that he thinks I should see."

"You’re tied to the desk," Gibbs reminded her.

"I know," Natasha replied. "That’s why he said he’s meeting me at Starbuck’s."

Gibbs grinned as she left. "That’s my girl," he said happily.

***

The Pentagon

Washington D.C., Capitol of the United States of America

It had been a long time since he’d felt as if something was wrong.

The Captain had gone through meetings with other military officials, but nothing had ever felt out of place.

Quite simply, there was no reason that he should be feeling as if something was out of place. More specifically, there was no reason anything should be in place that shouldn’t be there.

So why did he feel that way anyway?

When he finally made it back to his office, he finally made a decision. The Director had said that a fellow cohort of his had been in the area. Maybe he had found something wrong that he didn’t know.

He picked up his phone and dialed the operator. When her metallic voice came on, asking who he was, when he stated his rank, she faltered.

"What may I do for you, Captain?" she asked.

"I need to contact the FBI."

 ***

Washington D.C., Capitol of the United States of America

Admiral Watson was just where he said he would be: at a table outside of Starbuck’s, two cups in his hand. As Natasha strode up, he handed one of them to her. "I’m not a coffee drinker," she told him as politely as she could.

Admiral Watson just grinned. "Neither am I," he agreed. "That’s why it’s hot chocolate."

He tried to hand it to her again, and Natasha grinned, accepting the cup. "Thanks," she told him. "Over the phone, you said you saw something you thought I should see."

The smile disappeared from the Admiral’s face. "Yes. Yes, I did." He gestured for her to sit, and as she did, he pulled a few photos from his briefcase. "When you gave your description of the man who attacked you to me, I started running facials on all of the men onboard the Blackhawk. None of them after the attack matched your description."

"No surprise there," Natasha agreed. "He would have bolted."

"He did." Natasha raised an eyebrow, and the Admiral laid the photos in front of her. "These were taken a few days ago, just before the Blackhawk set sail."

Natasha examined the three photos closely, and narrowed her eyes when she came across a man with emerald eyes and black hair talking casually to Commander Jenkins and Lieutenant Sears. "Loki," she murmured under her breath.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, pushing the photos back to him. "It’s nothing."

"Agent Romanoff, if you need these – "

"No, we do not," Natasha assured him, standing. "Thank you for the drink, Admiral. We will find who killed these SEALs."

"I hope so, Agent Romanoff," Admiral Watson replied gravely, standing as well. "I hope so."

***

FBI Headquarters

Washington D.C., Capitol of the United States of America

He finished up with the final report of the day, then filed both of the folders into a cabinet underneath his desk. After that, he leaned back in his chair, watching his computer power down.

Things at the FBI were much slower than things were before he joined.

He snorted as he remembered his previous job. Things were way slower here than things were before he joined, now that he really thought about it.

The phone at his desk gave a ring. Sighing, he reached over and picked it up. "FBI," he announced.

"Six."

With a jolt, he sat up straight. "Captain?"

"Do you have a feeling something is wrong, or is it just me?"

He thought about that for a little bit, then shook his head. "No. I can do a cross check if you need it, though."

"Please." Click.

He looked at his phone, put it back in its cradle, then powered his computer back up. If the Captain was right and that something really was wrong, then things were about to really pick up speed at the FBI.

*** 

And another chapter of Remember gone by! Wow, going by so fast . . . anyway, comment please! By the way, if one of the Avengers and one of the NCIS agents were going to be partners (Romanoff being an Avenger), which pair would be the best? Be creative, now (it will depend on a dedication)!

Also, I have a little challenge. See if you can tell who both of the unnamed POVs were. It's kind of obvious, if you can tell . . . but I want to see who gets them! First one to do that gets the dedication in the next chapter (as soon as I figure out how to work it)!

See ya!

P.S., yeah, I know the picture's terrible. That's Wattpad for you. *shrugs* Sorry.