Tony strolled into the squadroom, head bopping along to the Sinatra on his iPod. He spotted Ziva at her desk, head down, filling out paperwork. She looked up as he dropped his stuff on his desk and booted up his computer.

"Good morning Tony. You look like you are in a good mood this morning."

"Morning Zee-Vah! Who wouldn't feel good today? The sun is shining, birds are chirping. Spring is in the air." The 1000-Watt DiNozzo smile lit up his face, and his green eyes sparkled with their usual mischief.

"You are up to something aren't you? Did you do something to my keyboard? My chair?" She jumped up, turning her head from side to side looking for some kind of evidence of a trap.

"Did Tony take the screws out of your chair again?" McGee offered, walking into the room heading for his desk to enjoy his breakfast burrito.

"I do not know what he did, but he did something." Ziva's eyes grew murderous as she stalked around her desk towards Tony's.

"Can't a guy just enjoy a nice spring day. Jeez." Tony started to sweat as Ziva leaned across his desk, her eyes probing his, looking for a sign of deceit.

"No. You enjoy playing with people Tony." McGee watched with joy as Ziva intimidated DiNozzo across the room.

"Thanks for the support McGoo."

"If you have anything up your shirt I will find out, and I will make you pay DiNozzo."

"It's up your sleeves, Zi. But you are welcome to check up my shirt if you want." He waggled his eyebrows at her, wishing she would.

"Don't forget that I can kill you with this stapler." She picked up his Mighty Mouse stapler of his desk and shot a staple in his direction causing him to flinch.

"Don't kill him yet. You'll only make more work for yourself at the crime scene. Grab your gear. We've got a dead petty officer." Gibbs soared into the room and headed straight for the elevator, his team rushing to grab their stuff and catch up before the doors closed.

The crime scene they pulled up to looked like so many they had seen before. A young, white male lay crookedly on the couch of his apartment apparently stabbed to death. The team began unloading their gear and set out to process the scene.

"DiNozzo pictures. McGee bag and tag. Ziva interviews." Gibbs called to his team as he went to examine the crime scene. Each team member hurrying to complete their duties.

"Mr. Palmer, I distinctly told you to take a left at that stop sign. If you wish to remain behind the wheel, we might need to enroll you in driving classes or purchase you a hearing aid." Ducky walked into the tiny apartment followed by Jimmy with a look on his face that spoke of a retort. One look at Gibbs silenced his rejoinder.

"I'm sorry Dr. Mallard." Palmer decided it was best to swallow his original reply with Agent Gibbs standing by.

"Get lost again Duck?" A small smile played across Gibbs' face as he watched the ME and his assistant begin to examine their body.

"Only to be reminded that if one wants something done properly, one had better do it one's self." Ducky seemed like he was about to launch into one of his usual tangents so Gibbs took the opportunity to cut him off.

"What do we got Duck?"

Ducky turned his attention back to the body. "Yes, it seems cause of death is a stab wound to the upper torso. Time of death is approximately three hours ago. No abrasions on the arms or signs of a struggle, so…"

DiNozzo cut in snapping a picture of the victim. "Victim knew his attacker."

"It would seem so. I'll know more once I get him back to autopsy Jethro, and of course Ms. Scuito will need to run a Tox screen. Mr. Palmer go get the gurney."

"Yes Dr. Mallard. Right away."

"If he wasn't such a fine assistant, I'd really have to think about terminating him."

"Over a wrong turn." Gibbs smirked.

"Punctuality should always be foremost Jethro. To be late is to miss out on life. You know that reminds me of the baker in my town growing up. Always late to rise, and missed out on…."

"Duck." Gibbs had no time for a field trip down Ducky's memory lane.

Ducky quietly returned to his body and Gibbs turned to his senior field agent, waiting for his report.

"No sign of forced entry Boss. No sign of a struggle. Except for the dead body, the apartment is pretty spotless. Doesn't look like he's been here long. Clothes packed in an overnight bag. Looks like he just returned from somewhere, probably deployment." DiNozzo rattled off his findings so quickly he was out of breath by the end of it.

"That it, DiNozzo."

"Yes, uh yeah. I think so." Tony began to sweat under the Gibbs glare, frantically searching his mind for something he had missed.

"You think so?" Gibbs enjoyed his own pranks. Torturing his agents was high on that list. He watched as Tony squirmed.

"I know. That's it boss." Tony decided he hadn't missed anything.

"Alright." Gibbs turned to get his next report from Ziva. "Go."

"Neighbors say that Petty Officer Joel Sanders just returned from a deployment. He was a quiet neighbor. No one here really knew him. They heard a heated argument around 0800 this morning. One neighbor, a Mr. Petty, says he heard the door slam and saw a white male, blond hair, approximately 6 feet tall exiting the apartment building a minute later. They heard nothing else after that."

"Must be our killer. Fits the T.O.D. Boss I found the murder weapon. Looks like Navy issue combat knife. It's been wiped clean, well except for the blood." McGee held up an evidence bag with the knife in it for them all to inspect, wearing a triumphant smile.

"You want a doggie treat McGruff. Keep wagging your tail like that." Tony couldn't help but comment on the proud look on McGee's face. McGee threw Tony a look.

Once the scene had been processed, the team packed up the evidence and headed back to the Navy yard.

Gibbs exited the elevator and made his way into Abby's lab, CafPow in hand. He placed the bright red drink on the desk next to his favorite forensic scientist.

"Gibbs! No you can't be here yet. I don't have anything for you yet. Go away." Abby closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them Gibbs would be gone. She slowly opened one eye to peak and he was still there.

"Abs.."

"No. I told you. Mr. Mass Spec is working but you can't rush him. You know that. And I'm still waiting on Ducky for my samples."

"Abs…"

"No. I will have something soon, but not now. So go ahead. Shoo." Abby gestured for him to head out.

"Abs, I just came down here to bring your CafPow."

"Oh. Well in that case. Thanks!" She grabbed her big drink and started sucking away on her favorite caffeine fix.

"There were no prints on the knife."

"No, it was wiped. I'll test the blood, but it should be a match to Petty Officer Sanders."

"Look to see if there's anyone else's blood on the knife." Gibbs suggested.

"Think the killer left us a friendly drop to help us along." Abby bounced up and down on the balls of her feet unable to stand still.

"I don't know. I just have a feeling in my…"

"In your gut." Abby finished for him. "I trust that steel-coated stomach of yours. If it says check the knife, I will!"

Gibbs smiled down at Abby. He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek and swept out of the room.

"When I do have something…" Abby began.

"I'll be back." Gibbs yelled as he entered the elevator to check on his agents.

Back in the squadroom Gibbs' team worked frantically to dig up background on Petty Officer Sanders before the Boss returned from his routine coffee run.

The ding of the elevator signaled Gibbs return, and his team jumping up in a Pavlovian response.

"What do we got?" He barked.

"Petty Officer Sanders. Worked as a systems analyst for the Navy. He just returned from a 18 month deployment on the USS Enterprise. Grew up in Richmond, Virginia. Comes from a clean middle class family. Nothing on his service record." Tony spoke quickly as he put the victim's stats up on the plasma screen. Ziva grabbed the remote from Tony's hand and began to rattle off what she had found out.

"I spoke with the petty officer's C.O. He said that he was a quiet guy, kept to himself, but always got his work done. No problems with his fellow officers. I also spoke with some of his bunk mates on board the Enterprise. They said Sanders was well-liked and got along with everyone." Ziva finished her speech, and handed the remote to McGee. She noticed that Gibbs was beginning to look even more unhappy than usual.

"So we've got nothing?" Gibbs stared at his agents waiting for someone to give him something he could use.

"Not nothing, boss." McGee began pulling up Sanders bank statements onto the plasma. "I looked over the petty officer's bank statements. Starting a little over two years ago there are monthly deposits of ten to fifteen thousand dollars. The payments seem to end two months ago." McGee finished with a flourish knowing he had found something they could use.

"He's not getting that from the Navy."

"No he's not DiNozzo. Where are the payments coming from?"

"An offshore account."

"Can you trace it McGee?" Frustration edged Gibbs voice.

"I'm trying boss, but so far…no." Gibbs surveyed his agents with disbelief. This couldn't be all they had. With this information they were never going to find out who killed Sanders.

"What about the guy the neighbor saw?"

"No security cameras outside the apartment or in the halls. Neighbor didn't see what car the man got into."

Gibbs glared at them. "Somebody get me something I can use. Now!" The three agents hightailed it back to their desks and began digging deeper into Sanders life in order to avoid Gibbs' wrath.

"I've got something you can use." Leon Vance walked into the squadroom followed by a young boy and a very pretty woman who appeared to be in her early 20s. "How about someone who can identify the killer?"

"Who's that Leon?" Gibbs drawled.

The little boy stepped forward. He couldn't be more than 10 years old. His sandy brown hair hung in his blue eyes. He cleared his throat to speak. "I know who killed your guy. It was my dad."