"Thank you for coffee this morning."

"Well, you don't need to thank me, now, do you?"

Luck Be A Lady blasts through the earphones of his MP3 — a gift from Abby to all of us — as he rocks me side to side, similar to a moment two short months ago.

"This is nice." I hum to myself inaudibly. "No pressure to move fast. . .no pressure to have sex."

"You still haven't kissed me." He points out.

My eyes roll at his childish impatience. "And I will. When I feel ready, I will kiss you."

The elevator doors slide open, and he and I release each other. The others are already in the bullpen when Gibbs shouts.

"Dead Marine, Fort Belvoir Army Base. Let's go."

Lieutenant Colonel Mann meets with Gibbs on the front porch of the house while the rest of us gather the equipment.

"Marine Captain Trent Reynolds, worked for the Defense Intelligence Agency on an interagency task force. His wife found him last night when she got back from a convention in Charlottesville."

"Where is she now?"

"Mother's house."

McGee clears his throat. "How long has he been, uh, stuck here?"

"Only the dead know the true meaning of patience, Timothy." Ducky stands by the doorway. "No more places to go, people to see. Except me, of course."

Ziva and I step back next to Tony to give Ducky some space to work.

"So. . .to whom do I report?"

"Her. Me."

The two answer simultaneously.

"Better get used to that." Tony snickers under his breath, causing Mann to tilt her head in question. "Uh, spearguns. Pretty cool. Thunderball. Very James Bond, boss — ma'am. . .Colonel."

"Captain Reynolds was a recreational diver."

"Pretty cool."

"You already said that."

"I'm trying not to get my ass handed to me by the woman, alright?"

Unlike typical cases, Lieutenant Colonel Mann assigns our tasks for the next hour or so: Tony with the witness statements, McGee with searching for prints, Ziva with the captain's phone records, and I with the bank documents.

A few prints left behind on the back door belong to Major Sweigart, who was Captain Reynolds' superior at the D.I.A..

But they find out one of Gibbs' ex-wives was with the captain's wife when they discovered the body, wife number three to be exact.

"Who do you think is prettier: ex-wife number three or future ex-wife number four?"

Tony nods towards the interrogation room, where Stephanie Flynn sits in the chair and Lieutenant Colonel Mann questions her.

"Don't make me answer."

"Does the uniform put Mann at a disadvantage?"

"Well, it's Gibbs we're talking about, so. . .that could be taken as an advantage."

"If you're going to have me interrogated, Jethro, at least do it yourself. Come on." Flynn presses her hands against the window. "You never could talk to me, could you? Well, that was then, this is now, so just. . .get the hell in here!"

My eyes widen at her outburst. "Isn't she just a. . .female version of Gibbs?"

"What was that, Eva?"

A reflection of Gibbs standing behind us appears on the window, which causes me and Tony to run out of the backroom.

Through a thorough search of the computer's harddrive, Abby finds a keystroke logger Reynolds used to hack into Major Sweigart's computers. But at the time of his death, he attempted to share an audio file of "The Elements" song.

"Checked Reynolds' phone records, boss — colonel, ma'am." Tony stumbles with the title. "I drew a blank."

I take over. "But we checked Major Sweigart's phone records and found ten calls to. . .Jill, the captain's wife."

So our primary suspect quickly becomes Jill Reynolds.

"You might as well start calling Colonel Boss Ma'am with the amount of times you've sputtered today."

"I wouldn't be so nervous if someone would tell me why she hasn't kissed me yet."

"Really, Tony?"

"Look, I kept my promise that we won't tell the others until they figure it out themselves, but that doesn't mean we can't have fun."

"What happened to no pressure?"

The two of us approach the Reynolds' household just as an unfamiliar man exits through the front door.

"Woah. Excuse us." Tony tugs the end of his coat, flashing the N.C.I.S. badge. "We're looking for Jill Reynolds."

"She's in the back." He attempts to leave.

I cock an inquisitive brow. "And you're a friend?"

"Lieutenant Marsden." He introduces himself. "Command sent me out to go over Captain Reynolds' death benefits with her."

"Around $400,000, right? An unexpected windfall."

"If you think money compensates for the loss of a loved one —"

"No. I'm sure it doesn't."

"Excuse me."

Inside the house, Jill Reynolds sits on her knees while scrubbing away the blood stains left behind by her husband's body.

"Find anything, you two?"

Gibbs excuses himself from the shoot-out waiting to happen between ex-wife number three, current spouse, and Jenny.

"I bet you've never been happier to see me."

"The entire house was clean and spotless, boss."

"She was like that professional cleaner in Pulp Fiction."

"But there was a partial print in the kitchen near the office. Just a little squiggle, almost impossible to run it."

"Run it."

"On it, boss."

The lieutenant and Gibbs walk off ahead of us, leaving me and Tony to return to the bullpen.

"There's a reason why opposites attract." He mutters to me. "It's a trainwreck waiting to happen."

"I have to agree with you on that." A short giggle escapes.

McGee had been scanning footage from the A.T.M. machines in Charlottesville, and he's able to mark Jill there at 8:05 — meaning she couldn't have killed her husband.

"Maybe she hired a contract killer." Ziva suggests with a shrug.

"What about the partial print in Reynolds' kitchen?" Lieutenant Colonel Mann looks between me and Tony.

"80,000 possibilities." I sink back into my seat. "McGee's been helping to narrow it down to those who had access to the Army Base."

"Have we given up on Major Sweigart?"

"Has an alibi. Ziva confirmed it earlier."

"From someone who thinks he's her future husband."

"Stephanie wouldn't lie." Gibbs breaks silence.

"Are you sure? Because I'm not." She crosses her arms over her chest. "She finds out that her boyfriend was having an affair with her best friend, might just change her story."

Her gaze falls on Gibbs for a few moments.

"Bring her in for another interview."

"Wait.

"I said bring her in."

"And I said wait."

"Does this mean we're getting split up?" I whisper.

"Never turns out well for the kids." He shakes his head in mock pity.

One of the linked possibilities from the partial print belongs to Fred Rinnert, the D.I.A. official who's been aiding Abby the entire time.

"Flowers, chocolates, and a home-cooked meal?"

The entire apartment smells of freshly homemade gnocchi, which must have taken him quite a bit of time.

"You didn't have to do this for me."

"I think we both deserve a break from work. . .and our personal life."

My hands draw to his waist, and I rest my cheek between his shoulder blades. My lips pucker involuntarily, and I whisper.

"No welcome home kiss?"

"You want one?"

"Yes, please."

He drops the wooden spoon into the pot of boiling water before lifting me up by the back of my thighs.

"Eager much?"

"Very much."

His lips linger longer than necessary, but I don't mind.

Not one bit.