Ziva growled at the other drivers on the road. She had finally realized that the largest reason Tony and McGee gave her a hard time about her driving was not because they were afraid for their lives, but because they assumed that her defensive driving meant she did not feel safe here. She had made a stab at driving like everyone else, but on days like today, she wished she had not made that resolution. It was very frustrating to sit in a traffic jam (she had made sure she knew that idiom!) and see all the places she could maneuver the van and yet not do it. She took a deep breath, let it out, and repeated. I will not dart out there. I will stay in my lane. I will not shoot the tires of that car. Her frustrations had truly started when the LEO's had not wanted to leave her at the scene alone, but they had not been interested in helping her search for the bullet. Ziva understood procedure to a point, but it was ridiculous. Her LEO mantra was Tony used to be a cop. Be nice. Maybe one of them could turn into Tony. Tony likes cops. Be nice. It had failed her. She was certain Tony had never been as deliberately obtuse as those men had been. She finally called NCIS dispatch and got a truckload of FLETC students out to help her search. And they had, and she now had in her possession the evidence bag that contained the bullet. She tried not to think about the case of evidence bags in the back – apparently, new FLETC students bagged and tagged everything.

And there! Ziva took a hard right turn to come up the back way to NCIS. She signed the van back in, dropped the evidence off with the evidence bunnies – if Tony finds out that his name for them has caught on with me, I will never hear the end of it – and hightailed it onto the elevator. She paused for a moment, trying to decide if "hightailed" was the correct word – she was pretty sure it was – and if so, where it had come from. She decided to put it down on her list of "idioms to look up later." Ziva mentally urged the elevator to hurry. Tony would be worrying and trying to pretend he was not, and she really should have called him when she left the scene. She exited the elevator in the bullpen in a rush, and stopped short when she entered her section. Tony and McGee were having a stare-down at Tony's desk.

They turned to look at her in concert. She stared back. Then Tony shook his head, grinned, and said, "McGee. Spit it out. Because although I would love to stand around and stare at each other some more – and who doesn't want to stare at me? – we do have a case to solve, and this isn't solving it."

Ziva grinned. Tony in all his irrepressible glory was back. Of course, she was well aware it was just a mask, but the mask being back told her two things: Tony was more affected by Gibbs' return then he was letting on, and that Tony wanted to make sure they all had a rock while things got figured out. She glanced at McGee, who looked vaguely pained. He had made great strides since she'd joined the team, but he still did not always understand the need for the mask. Or why she and Tony never wanted to talk it out. As she watched, McGee shook his head slightly, and swallowed. Visibly.

"So, the vic's name is Adam Peters. He was reported missing from Detroit, Michigan four years ago. Like I said, the Detroit PD is sending us the missing person's file. He was reported missing by his girlfriend, after she hadn't heard from him in a week. He was living with his parents at the time, and they never reported him missing. As far as I can tell, they were questioned but that was it. Peters had a history of running away from home, and was taken out of the home for two years when he was 13. A judge declared his parents fit, and he was returned to them. I pulled up the most recent phone number and address for the girlfriend, Trina Simons. She lives just outside DC." McGee gave his report quickly, skimming over the part Ziva was most interested in – the running away often before the age of 13, and removal from the home – in what she assumed was deference to Tony's feelings, because his shoulders had tensed imperceptibly as McGee spoke.

Ziva looked at Tony's shoulders, and then at McGee, who looked like he felt terribly guilty for stressing Tony further. "Do we know why he was in uniform?" It seemed like a reasonable distraction, and obviously one they would have to answer if they wanted to keep the case.

"No," McGee answered. "I don't know why the uniform."

Tony opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, his desk phone rang. He picked it up. "Special Agent DiNozzo," he said, and then grinned. "Abs! Why didn't you call my cell?" He paused, and looked confused for just a moment. "Yeah. About that, Abby. We'll be down in a moment. McGee will be sending you some information before we head down there." He hung up, and stared at the phone for a moment.

"Boss?" McGee said, "What's up?"

"Not sure yet, but Abs got a hit. With a different name, and from the DNA database. Send her the two photos you used, please." Tony grimaced a bit. "We have a case of double identities."

Ziva frowned. "Maybe one of us should go pick up the girlfriend?" She would be able to identify Peters, if it was Peters in their autopsy.

Tony looked considering for a moment, then shook his head. "We'll check out Abby's lead first. See what it gets us. We will be picking up the girlfriend. McGee, can you find a photo of her?"

He nodded. "Yes Boss. But not right away. I could do it while you talk to Abby, but it might take a while."

Tony shrugged. "Won't hurt to put it off for a half hour, and I want you in Abby's lab. Ziva, will you call the Probie and tell her I said that I hope her date was nice, and could she be back in the bullpen in thirty?" He turned on his heel and headed for the elevators. McGee typed franticly for a moment, and then scrambled after him.

Ziva stood in the silence of the bullpen for a moment. Interpersonal relationships were not her strongest point, and she really wasn't any good at comforting people. Protecting them, she could do. Ziva nodded decisively to herself. It was decided then. Until this case was over, she would keep Gibbs away from Tony, before he could hurt her team leader any more. Decision reached, she pulled out her cell phone. Had Tony really said Lee was on a date? It was the middle of the day! They had a case! What was she thinking?

Hanging up on Lee's spluttering, Ziva headed for the stairs, ready to join the rest of her team in Abby's lab. She slipped in through the sliding doors, looking at the screen around which everyone else was gathered. Three photographs were displayed: one from autopsy, one from McGee's missing person's file, and one was a military ID. Abby looked up. "Oh good! Ziva, you're here! I wasn't going to tell them anything until you all got here."

McGee grinned mischievously. "Does that mean we have to wait for Lee to get back from her lunch date with Palmer?"

Abby shook her head vigorously, pigtails bouncing. "Nope! She's not in the building so she doesn't count! Not that she doesn't count normally – Lee is nice. Very boring, but nice. Kind of timid, too."

Ziva shook her head, "You did not hear her this morning, Abby. She called Gibbs 'sir'. And she offered to help force the Director to keep Tony as Team Lead."

"And she told Gibbs to 'stick it'," McGee said proudly.

They all jumped when Tony clapped loudly. "This is all very fun, people, but focus please. We can discuss Lee's frightening new propensity for bad-assery once the case is closed. Now, Abs, what do you have for me?"

Abby saluted, and Ziva had a brief flash of memory: Abby saluting Gibbs at his desk with the wrong hand, calling him ma'am. She shook her head to clear it as Abby began to speak. "So I ran the DNA, and got a match – meet Petty Officer Tom Simons. And then Tony said it was hinky, 'cause Timmy got a match too, only his is named Adam Peters. And then I said it was hinky, 'cause Major Mass Spec and the rest of the troops don't lie. I'm running the photo recognition software now, and you can't rush science, but eye-balling it says they look like the same person." She leaned back into Tony's side, and he hugged her shoulder.

"Nice work, Abs. Now we know we at least have jurisdiction, which solves one problem." Tony had a gleam in his eye that suggested he had an idea about the case, but was going to make them work it out themselves. Ziva let herself drift over the facts so far. Something was perched just out of reach. McGee looked just as frustrated as she felt. And then Ziva straightened. "Tony, what was the girlfriend's name?"

Tony smiled. "Trina Simons."

McGee jumped it, "Our Petty Officer has the same last name. Could be just a coincidence, but that seems unlikely. So the girlfriend helped him, and then reported him missing?"

Tony shrugged. "Not sure. Abby, pull up his service record. It should have next-of-kin listed."

They all watched as the screen filled with his record. There, on the next-of-kin line, was the name Trina Simons.