"It's freezing in here."

"After four months in the sub-basement, this is cozy. It's like March of the Penguins down there."

"It is so nice being back in the presence of a dead body — that came out absolutely wrong."

"It absolutely did."

Flash!

"Uh, Timothy."

"Sorry, Ducky." McGee lowers the camera that snapped a picture of the M.E.. "It's, uh, been a while."

Ducky steps closer to the woman's head. "Yes, it has."

Gibbs enters the room, awaiting our findings and observations. The thermostat temperature combined with the postmortem hits reveal more as to what really happened.

"McGee, get a hold of DiNozzo. Tell him I want to see the records and service file of the guy who jumped overboard."

Gibbs stalks upstairs where an impatient Vance waits.

"Got it, boss."

The three of us return to our respectful desks to work on our designated tasks. My gaze, however, turns to the closest picture frame in the corner.

A goofy picture Tony had insisted on taking of the two of us years ago.

When the credit card charges of Lieutenant Chad Evans — the man who jumped overboard — appear in Cartagena, Colombia, Tony makes a one-day trip over.

Only to find the body of Lieutenant Evans.

"You called, Gibbs?"

The elder man silently signals for me to keep quiet as Vance talks to the Captain aboard the Seahawk.

"This will not be a manhunt, Captain. Last thing you want to do is to panic him. Agent DiNozzo will conduct his investigation when he returns to the ship."

My ears perk at the mention of his name.

"In the meantime, you might want to start verifying your personnel. . .discreetly."

"Consider it done."

Vance waves his under his chin to one of the workers, and the feed is cut off from both ends. He then turns to me and Gibbs.

"Pack your bags, Agent Gibbs. Your boy's going to need some help."

"Agent Giudice, too?"

"I don't see why not."

Just like that, Gibbs and I are on our way to see Tony after four long months without his physical presence.

"Gibbs flew out to Cartagena last night? Well, when does he get here?"

"Already has. And he brought a guest."

Tony looks back, the satellite phone still pressed to his ear. I feel the happiest of tears prick my eyes before I dash towards him.

Long abandoning the phone, the agent afloat catches me in his arms and embraces me.

"Well, didn't you get tanned."

"Just to impress my wife-to-be."

And nothing's changed.

With part of the team reunited, Tony guides us back onto the Seahawk where we can start the investigation of who's impersonating Lieutenant Evans.

Beep, beep. Beep, beep.

Gibbs walks ahead to answer the call, leaving me alone with Tony.

"You definitely aged over the last four months." My lips tighten to a thin line while I run fingers through his hair.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not still guilting yourself over Jenny, are you?"

"Not as much as I used to."

"And the drinking?"

". . .not as much as I used to."

The fabric of his shirt wrinkles from the tight grasp I have. "I don't care what Vance says. The second this case is over. . .you're coming home with me."

"God, I can't wait to be in a real bed." He glances down at me. "With my fiancée next to me."

The Captain greets us near Tony's bunker, where Gibbs tells him of what Lieutenant Evans' impersonator is planning to do: a biological attack using anthrax.

"You slept in here for the last four months?"

"Yeah, it's just like the squad room. Only I'm the squad, and there's no room."

While looking around the cramped quarters, I'm drawn to the bulletin board of pictures of each of the team members. Abby, Ducky, Gibbs, Ziva, McGee. . .

"Anthony David DiNozzo, why do you have multiple pictures of me in a bikini hanging on the wall?"

"Wh-What? How did-How did those get there?"

The lowest of growls erupts in the throat, but we walk out of the bunker to interrogate Lieutenant Jonah Kaplan before I can begin yelling at him.

"Why would you keep such. . .such insecurity-inducing pictures of me?"

"Insecurity-inducing? Eva, you're more beautiful than any person I've laid eyes on."

I shake my head side to side. "Flattery isn't going to make me forget that I specifically told McGee to destroy those."

"I guess he forgot."

"Should I remind him then?"

"Go easy on the lad. He's had a rough summer."

"Ziva was caught in an explosion, I was stuck with police reports, Gibbs had to deal with a whole other team —"

"I think it was especially difficult for McGeek." Tony lets me go through the narrow entrance first. "He doesn't handle change well. Never has."

"Well, I think he's fine." My shoulders shrug lightly.

The agent afloat scoffs in response. "Please. Cooped up in that techno basement for four months? You know how much he loves pounding the pavement, working leads, interrogating. Not to mention Gibbs, Duckster, Ziva, you, me, Abbs. I mean, everyone knows how close those two are."

"He was still in the same building. They had lunch together pretty often."

"It's not the same. You get used to seeing someone every day, talking to them, relying on them. And suddenly. . .they're not there."

At that moment, I realize just who Tony's talking about: himself.

"I missed you, too, T."

"Not as much as I have, E."

Soon enough, we're inside the communications room.

"Hey."

One of the lieutenants turns around, resting his headset around his neck. "Agent DiNozzo."

"Almeida, this is Special Agent Giudice." Tony formally introduces me.

"Special Agent Giudice." Almeida shakes my hand just before cowering under Tony's glare.

"Where's Lieutenant Kaplan?"

"Late for his watch. He should have relieved me at 1200 hours."

I glance around at the various computers. "So, you've never seen the man pretending to be Lieutenant Evans?"

"Well, Kaplan was on duty, not me."

"Do you at least know the station?"

"Uh, 3-F." The sailor motions to the work station. "The class-three I.T.s have a higher security clearance than anyone else in the unit. You can't touch that without a keycard and passcode."

Tony grasps the candy red telephone attached to the wall to call for access to the monitor. Almost immediately after, a P.S.A. of Kaplan's disappearance loops through the ship's network.

The plan proves to be successful when the ship's infirmary calls with Kaplan's recent I.C.U. admittance. But I find Kaplan's date of arrival to be two days before Lieutenant Evans' wife was killed.

In the spur of a sudden turn of events, Taylor Henley, a medical Corpsman on the Seahawk, turns out to be the killer of the Evans couple and Kaplan.

"Never thought I'd say this, Tony, but it is nice to have you back."

"Nice? It's, like, spectacular."

"It was a long four months. I've gotta say. . .it's great to be home."

"The team's finally back."