A/N- I don't own anything, except my OC's.

Identity

Callen and Sam looked at the sun setting and Emma talking to her mother, Helen. It was a good ending to a bad case and Callen had survived his first day back. Without getting shot.

"What are you thinking about, G?" Sam asked, watching Emma on the phone.

"Nothing," Callen lied.

Back at the Mission, Hetty was on one of her tirades. "Your expense reports. They are six months behind. Don't worry tomorrow will be fine." Callen looked up at her, waiting for her to finish, not bothering to argue that tomorrow was much too soon to be trying to finish six months' worth of expense reports. After all, it was a completely reasonable request. "After you've gone and seen your daughter."

Callen's jaw dropped. "How did you know?" Not many people knew about his estranged daughter. Sam didn't even know.

"I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't know. Go see her."

Forty two minutes later, Callen was pulling up in front of a Santa Monica house. He sighed. This was going to be hard. Extremely hard. He hadn't seen his 17 year old daughter in quite some time. Slowly, he walked up the walk and knocked on the door.

A tall, blonde woman opened the door. "So you think you can come in and out of her life like nothing?" No hello's, no pleasantry's. That was the way the Vandenhoven family operated. Straight to the point and his daughter had been living with her aunt, Skylar Vandenhoven, most of her life. Callen wasn't sure what bad habits she had picked up from that side of the family.

"I intend to stay in it," Callen replied.

Skylar finally relented and opened the door for him to come in. "For how long this time, G? I don't want this turning into another drive by visit of her mother's."

"Her mother was by?" Callen bristled at the fact. There was no love lost between his ex and him. The last time he had seen her was eight years ago.

"Maybe if you had of stayed in my life, you would know that," Callen turned to see his daughter walking down the stairs. 5' 10'', toned body of an athlete, blonde hair and blue eyes. Taylor Kaatje Callen was absolutely gorgeous.

Callen was about to explain but Taylor cut him off. "I wouldn't have come to your funeral if you would have had one."

"How did you know?"

"Social services came by. Said you were dead in a drive by shooting. Somehow I didn't really believe that. Just figured it was a way for you to go underground and go on a deep cover op. Like last time," Taylor said bitterly. She still stood on the last step, arms crossed. The clothing made Callen wince. White short shorts and a pale yellow tank top that revealed way too much cleavage for a seventeen year old.

"I'm here, Taylor. And I'm not leaving."

Taylor looked at her aunt and back at Callen. "Good." She took a step down and crossed over to where he was standing and wrapped her arms around him. Callen instinctively did the same and Taylor buried her head in his shoulder. Callen forgot how good it felt to hold his daughter in his arms again.