"Rise and shine, Eva." Someone barges into my apartment. "Can I use your shower?"

"Take whatever you want. But I have to warn you, I have —"

"Hey!"

I hear something break, followed by a bunch of barks and someone shouting for help.

Guess it's time to wake up.

Dragging myself out of bed, I switch on the lights to see Tony on the floor with Copper and Todd hovering over his face.

"Come on, you two. Into the. . .bedroom." A yawn escapes from my lips as the two trod past me into the second room. "Now. . you."

"Morning." Tony scrambles onto his feet. "Lovely weather we're having, right?"

I slowly walk into the kitchen, turning on the coffee machine. "How did you get in?" He trails behind me. "No, wait. How did you find out where I live?"

"Easy. I have a high enough security clearance now that NCIS knows I'm alive and well. And I found the spare key under your doormat." He sits down at my dining table. "Nice place you've got here. Not too far from work. Working heat and electricity."

"Did you break in just to tell me I have a nice place?" Reaching a hand up, I grab two coffee mugs.

"Of course not." He scoffs. "I need a place to stay, so I thought my coworker and dear friend Evaline would be able to help out in the department." Tony smiles brightly in an attempt to woo me.

"And what if your dear friend Evaline doesn't want to help you?" I prop myself up onto the kitchen counter, waiting for my coffee.

Tony drops to his knees, grasping both of my hands in his. "Then I'll beg, and I'll beg, and I'll beg."

"I'll think about it."

Together, we drive to the crime scene. Well, it's not exactly a crime scene since there isn't a dead body involved.

Just a young woman who had been buried alive.

Oh, and she thinks there's a bomb about to detonate on a Navy ship.

"No. You will not put her picture on TV. I want whoever did this to think she's still dead." Gibbs yells at Kate through the phone while shoveling dirt into a giant sifter. "No, Kate. No. Our priority is finding the bomb." He hangs up. "She's bonded."

"Kate and Jane Doe?"

"Oh, yeah. She hasn't even questioned her yet. 'Her eyes. They just pleaded for help'."

"I'm sure the poor woman's traumatized enough after being buried alive in a grave!" I shout. "Why don't we see how you would react to that?"

The two men look in my direction, their eyebrows raised in surprise at my sudden outburst.

"You heard what I said."

Ducky rejoins us after his uneventful venture through the woods. "I couldn't find a body." His walking stick digs into the ground with each step. "How did you three do?"

"Found a couple of arrowheads." Gibbs pulls out two evidence bags.

"What a coincidence. I found a couple of dumbheads."

"Yeah, this one's an arrowhead," Ducky points to one of the bags, "but this one's a shark tooth, and. . .oh, not more than a few thousand years old." He estimates its age.

"That recent?"

"Any older, and it would have been black and fossilized."

"How'd it get into Rock Creek Park?"

I tightly grip the camera strap around my neck. "While you guys are dilly-dallying about fossils and stuff, I am going to work on figuring out who buried the poor woman."

In the midst of working in the woods, Gibbs finally finds something.

"Well, hello." He picks up a key from on top of the sifter.

"Ah, another artifact?" Ducky gazes over at the object in Gibbs' hand.

"Only if your Pre-Colombians used keys."

I pass Gibbs a bag, and he stuffs it in.

Soon, it's time to get an update from Abby. From chastity belts to antifreeze, she determines that our Jane Doe's clothes have residue from materials used to build explosives.

"I can't release a woman who doesn't know her name, Agent Gibbs." The doctor sasses.

"What did the neurological consult say?" Gibbs questions.

Keeping quiet, Tony and I stand idly beside him.

"She's in no medical danger, but she doesn't know who she is, where she lives, her phone number, anything. I can't release her." He stands his ground.

Right then, Kate brings over Jane Doe.

"Yes, you can." A triumphant smile donns her features. "Tell them, Maureen."

"My name's Maureen Ingalls. I live at 620 Niagara Street in Alexandria. I don't think I ever remembered my phone number." She lists out, answering every single one of the doctor's inquiries.

Gibbs steps forward. "You remember who buried you?"

"She may always block that memory." Kate answers on her behalf. "Isn't that right, doctor?" She turns to the medical professional.

"Yes. See, um, most traumatic amnesiacs never recall the event which triggered the memory loss." He confirms. "In fact, I had a case where there were three accident victims —"

Thankfully, Tony cuts in. "What if her attacker returns?" He asks.

"She'll be in protective custody at my place." Kate replies with a small smile.

"So, you'll assume responsibility for signing her out?"

"Of course."

"I still suggest she stays here another 24 hours, but since she's recovered her memory, I. . ."

"Thank you, doctor."

The doctor leads her away to get her a set of scrubs seeing as her clothes are still in Abby's lab.

Once the two are out of sight, I squint my eyes in suspicion. "Nice job on getting her to lie about her name and address."

"How do you know her name isn't Maureen Ingalls?" She challenges, and I raise a brow. "Okay, fine. Maureen's my cousin."

"Kate," Gibbs faces her, "do you realize the laws you're violating by signing her out when you know she's lying?"

"Her memory is already coming back, Gibbs. I mean, she remembered the German word for 'explosive fabricator'."

"She speaks German?"

"No, but I think she makes explosives for a German firm here." Kate and Gibbs continue to stare at each other.

"Think we should leave the two lovebirds?" I mutter to Tony.

"No. I'm enjoying the show." He humors.

Abby figures out that the key belongs to a hotel, specifically the one where one of Gibbs' ex-wives resides.

Inside the suite, we find a dead man.

Blunt force trauma to the head with money surrounding him.

"Guys, this is weird." Abby stares down at the spinning Kennedy bust.

"Ducky didn't like it either. Said it was tawdry." Tony adds.

She shakes her head profusely. "Oh, no, no. The bust is cool. It's what I found that's weird." The forensics scientist clarifies. "I found a partial palm print on this bust of Kennedy. And if you remember your history, you know there was a partial palm print on the Mannlicher rifle used to assassinate Kennedy."

"You didn't try to match the two, did you? Because if you did. . .I don't really know what to say." I stand behind her with my hands on my hips.

"No. There's not enough of a print to match. But I just thought it would be cool to try." Abby smiles nonetheless.

"Are you saying that our palm print may be useless for identification?"

"Yes. But don't you think it's weird that the Kennedy bust and the Kennedy murder weapon both have partial palm prints?"

"That's not what I think is weird, Abbs."

She matches a print off of the desk, belonging to our Jane Doe.

A little visit to the bomb-making firm our victim belonged to results in the identity of our Jane Doe.

Suzanne McNeil.

"You look like you're having fun eyeing that blonde." I join Tony by the railing on the second floor.

He looks over at me, his eyebrows slightly raised. "Care to give me an answer to my question?"

"What question?" My lips curve into a frown.

"Can I or can I not stay at your place?"

"I haven't decided yet. But I'd suggest staying on my good side until I do make a decision."

We take Stephen Brauer, the head of the company, into our custody seeing as the attack on his chief of security could be a threat.

Once Kate brings Suzanne with her to the BFF headquarters, the two of us closely watch them converse, reading their lips. Meanwhile, Gibbs and Tony are talking about the one time Tony stayed at Gibbs' place.

Which I have yet to see for myself.

"She just said, 'Someone bashed the poor man's head in'." Kate tells us. "How did she know that Richter's head was bashed in? I couldn't even see his wound."

"The only way she would have known is. . .if she remembered killing him." My voice softens to a low whisper.

"Sie hat eine bombe!" Brauer cries out in a frantic tone.

It doesn't take a linguist to know what he just said.

"Suzanne! Don't!"

All four of our guns are raised in the air.

"Sorry, Kate."

She drops the bomb, creating an explosion on the entire first floor.

The only one hurt is Kate, and her injuries are minor. But the impact of her mistake to trust Suzanne cuts deeper.

"So, can I stay at your place?"

"Sure. As long as you don't mind the dogs."

". . .Gibbs keeps his door unlocked. I might just stay at his place."