Gibbs pressed the accelerator to the floor as he rounded a corner. He glanced to his right, noting that Ziva had a tight grip on the roll bar over the door, her lips pressed together in a tight line. "I thought you liked driving fast, Officer David."

"Driving, yes. Riding…not. As. Much." Her tone was clipped, as if she were biting each word, taking out her aggression on what she was saying rather than the car's driver.

Gibbs grinned slightly as he turned another corner at a higher-that-necessary velocity. "You don't trust me?"

"Trust and centrifugal force are two entirely different things, Gibbs."

They arrived safely at the dental clinic ten minutes later. Gibbs pulled the handle of the main door, shaking it in frustration as he realized it was locked.

Ziva was already pulling her picks from her pocket. "How eager are you to see the dentist, Gibbs?"

"That won't be necessary," he replied, waving emphatically to a woman he saw walking through the waiting room. She gestured for them to wait. Gibbs turned back to Ziva. "How come you didn't leave those with DiNozzo?"

"At Moussad we learned by doing. Tony is getting an educational experience. He'll have to improvise. I'm sure he has some pen caps or paperclips under the stacks of magazines in his desk."

Gibbs shook his head, making a special effort not to smile. The woman inside was finally approaching and unlocking the door. "I guess someone must have a big toothache," she said in a patronizing tone. "I can let you into the waiting room, but it's going to be at least…" she broke off as Gibbs flashed his badge.

"We need to speak with whoever is in charge here."

The woman froze, blocking the doorway. "Oh my. I knew the health department was coming, but you weren't expected until next week and most of the staff isn't even in yet, and…"

"We're NCIS, not health inspectors," Gibbs interrupted. "Feel free to drop whatever you want on the floor."

The woman replied with a bewildered stare.

"Dr. Lansing is expecting us," Ziva prompted.

The mention of a familiar name seemed to spur the woman to move. "Oh, yes. Of course. Please come in." She led them hurriedly past the reception desk and into the treatment area. She tried to hard to be casual as she asked, "So what does NCIS want with us on this fine Saturday morning?"

"I doubt it's anything you need to concern yourself with, Sheila." A stout man in gold-rimmed glasses and a white lab coat appeared in the doorway of an office. "Why don't you check the sterilizer while I speak to the agents?" The woman moved slowly down the hall, looking reluctant to leave without satisfying her curiosity as he shut the door. "I'm Dr. Phillip Lansing, general dentist and director of personnel here at the Bethesda dental clinic."

Gibbs extended his hand. "I'm Agent Gibbs, this is Officer David."

Lansing shook hands, smiling amiably and indicating a sofa against the wall to Gibbs and Ziva. He sat in a chair across from them. "Officer David was not very forthcoming on the phone, but I suspect this isn't just about our recent internal problems."

Ziva stopped mentally cataloguing the room as her gaze snapped back to Lansing. "What kind of problems?"

"We've been having some…" he paused as he swallowed significantly, "difficulties lately."

"That doesn't answer my question, Doctor."

Lansing was beginning to get flustered. He removed his glasses, wiping them with his coat as he stammered, "I-I-I don't want to blow anything out of proportion."

Gibbs slapped his notebook on the coffee table littered with various books and medical journals and a small dish of candy. "One of your hygienists was murdered, Doctor. I suggest you leave the proportions to us."

Lansing jumped in the act of sliding his glasses behind his ears. "Murdered?!" He fumbled blindly for the glasses, which had fallen under the coffee table. Neither agent moved to assist him.

"So, these, difficulties…"

"For God sakes, this is just a dental clinic, Agent Gibbs." Lansing was furiously rubbing the glasses he had just recovered. "We're talking about missing equipment, mostly. Nothing like…" he stopped. His voice took on a note of quiet panic as he asked, "Who?"

"Petty Officer Elizabeth Healey." Gibbs gave the dentist a moment to absorb the information before asking, "How well did you know her?"

Lansing continued to fiddle with his glasses, not making eye contact as he replied, "She's been working here for about a year or so. She's always on time, always does her job well. Everybody gets along with her." He looked up suddenly, alarmed. "Who would hurt her?"

"That's what we intend to find out."

Ziva checked her watch as they left the clinic three hours later. She'd spoken to more than ten dentists, hygienists and assistants and gotten the same report from all of them regarding Healey: hard worker, nice girl, no enemies. The majority of interviewees had been women. Weepy women. She sighed, wondering why anyone would join the military unprepared to lose colleagues to violence. Healey hadn't died in combat, of course, but she was still in the Navy…

"Something bugging you, Officer David?" Gibbs sounded frustrated.

"Oh, it's nothing…"

"Spit it out, Ziva."

Unwilling to disclose her true thoughts, she fixed on a minor detail that had been bothering her. "Lansing is a dentist, right?"

"You think he's our guy?"

"No," she said slowly. She paused to think for a moment. "I do think we need to look carefully at his relationship with Petty Officer Healey."

Gibbs knitted his eyebrows together. "I know you're not gonna tell me it's your gut."

"His grammar, actually. He talked to us about the petty officer in the present tense for almost twenty minutes after we told him about her murder. Loved ones often do that unconsciously to avoid thinking about the fact that the person is dead."

He nodded. "Not bad. I guess all those pointers from DiNozzo are paying off."

"Honestly, Gibbs. My grammar is fine. It's all your idioms that drive me up the wall."

"You got that one right, at least." He unlocked the car, noting her thoughtful expression as she got in and buckled her seatbelt. "Something else?"

"I was just wondering why a dentist has a dish of candy in his office."

He smiled as he started the engine. "Good for business, I guess."