Jethro arrived at the Navy Yard the next morning to find Dr. Cranston at his desk. He was not sure what to make of that exactly but wouldn't put it past her to be trying to make a point of sorts with him.

Good morning." She gave him a knowing look. "You're avoiding me."

"Doc, I gotta say I've never been a big fan," he admitted. Jethro was private and was not at all comfortable with people trying to get into his head.

"Of me, personally, or psychiatrists?" Cranston questioned very bluntly. "Of course, my being a woman doesn't help either."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, not sure if he should be offended or not. Not that it would be the first time someone implied he was a chauvinist. Admittedly, he was rather old-fashioned, but still.

"I know you historically you have issues with professional women," she stated.

"No," Jethro countered without missing a beat. "I like women. I just don't like 'em when they ask a lot of questions."

With Jethro immediately jumping into work, he headed down to Abby's lab, the doctor accompanying him as he touched base with the forensic scientist.

"I've confirmed that the casing was a Tokarev .25 millimetre," Abby started to explain as he entered the laboratory.

He held back a sigh. "Keep going, Abs."

"Um," the goth jumped back into explaining, "the markings on the rounds indicate that the weapon is older."

"Collector's item?" he suggested.

"Maybe," the forensic scientist agreed. Dr. Cranston caught the goth's attention out of the corner of her eye. The doctor had been scribbling something down on a small notepad. "Hey, what, what are you doing? Are you writing stuff about me?"

"Just a question I want to remember to ask later," the doctor admitted, not caring that she was clearly being intrusive. "Do not let me interrupt."

The forensic scientist gave the doctor a dirty look. "It's too late for that, Sigmund."

"Abs," he gently chastised. Jethro honestly agreed but he also didn't need the forensic scientist making things even harder for herself. The goth loved her job and had never dealt well with change. The last thing she needed was a bad eval.

"I have been scouring the Web and local gun show listings for TT-30 sales or registered buyers," the goth explained as she evidently took the hint. "So far, I have 28."

Dr. Cranston glanced between the two of them. "Is that a lot?"

The goth turned to face the doctor and gave her a rather frosty look. "Of the 250, 000 registered firearms owners in the metro area, 28 is peanuts." She then turned towards Jethro. "I'll get you the rest of the details when I have them."

He nodded, trying to give her a reassuring look. "Thanks, Abs."

Developing a migraine from this mess, Jethro headed back upstairs, fully intending to grab himself some coffee. Before he could though, Ducky called to say that he'd found something for him. DiNozzo wanted an excuse to not just hang out in the squad room waiting for the doctor to continue giving him a hard time, so Jethro sent him down to autopsy in his place and grabbed some coffee.

Jethro had nothing against Dr. Cranston personally but he also couldn't stand the shift in team dynamics. The entire thing was intrusive and did nothing but stress everyone out, even those who hadn't been stressed, to begin with.

After touching face with the director, he headed back to the squad room and his Senior Field Agent filled him in on Ducky's findings.

The commander was shot at close range. There was bruising on his chest, so the gun was held there with tremendous pressure. Ducky also found GSR on the commander's knuckles and a severely broken nail on his right hand and hairline fractures on some of his fingers. They seemed likely to be defensive wounds. Ducky was rather confused by the angle of the shot, though. The entry wound should have been higher given the fact that the shooter had been standing right over the victim.

Jethro then started discussing gun buyers with McGee, attempting to narrow down the list. They hit on Seaman Marcus Leonard, who had apparently requested mast against Commander Reynolds three months back for inappropriate conduct. The man felt that the commander played favourites. He lived alone nearby.

With that new lead, Jethro told McGee to go check out Seaman Leonard's place. And to take the good doctor with him on the little field trip. "Take Dr. Cranston. Let her drive. You can lie down. Shrinks love that, McGee."

Over the next couple of hours, the team didn't make any progress on their case, but they shovelled some Chinese food down for a late lunch and little after 1300, the team found out the commander was in a long-term relationship with a woman simply known as Nancy. "McGee," he said, "I need to talk to Admiral Hargrove's wife."

At this point in the game, he was feeling pretty comfortable with taking a stab in the dark at just what was going on. So, wasting no time, he contacted Nancy Hargrove and set up a meeting at a nearby park for a half-hour later.

"Nancy Hargrove," he said as he walked up to the blonde.

"Agent Gibbs," she greeted as he sat down on the bench beside her.

"You know why I called you?" he questioned not-unkindly.

"My husband told me what happened to Vincent," she replied, clearly deciding just how much she should say. "They were close, you know?"

"Oh," he said, "I think the two of you were... a lot closer than that, Ma'am."

He'd definitely hurt a nerve. "I'm sorry?"

"He's dead," he said gently. He wasn't there to judge, just get answers. "It's okay."

"Vincent and I saw each other for over twenty years," she finally explained. "He knew it could never be more than that."

"The admiral didn't know?" he asked.

"If he did," Nancy replied, "he never said anything." She steadied herself. "We only got together when my husband was away."

He took a breath. "Commander Reynolds had to retire from the Navy. He didn't have kids. He didn't have a wife. You take the Navy away from him, he didn't have anything to look forward to. Not even you."

She gave him a stunned look. "What are you suggesting, Agent Gibbs?"

He took another breath and stood up, intending to leave. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Back at the Navy Yard, he tried to get a couple of reports done while he waited for more results from Abby and his team finished their interviews with Dr. Cranston. When the tests from Abby did come back though, Jethro didn't know how he felt about having his suspicions looking more and more like reality.

No weapon had been recovered during the investigation, but Abby had discovered tape residue on the victim's fingers that indicate that maybe Reynolds pulled the trigger.

Jethro had Abby run one more test and got McGee to look more into the commander's past. He then informed Vance and informed DiNozzo that was accompanying him back out to the U.S.S Colonial. Jethro honestly disliked having to phone his wife and tell her that he was likely going to be home late for the second night in a row, but it came with the job. Nature of the beast.

They were over halfway there when Abby called with the test results, confirming what Jethro had been suspecting most of the day.

He and DiNozzo immediately had Ensign Howard and Petty Officer Oliver assembled in the ship's mess hall by the captain, Jethro's Senior Field Agent giving him a hard time about breaking Rule #1. Never let suspects stay together.

"What was your relationship with Commander Reynolds?" he asked.

"He was a respected officer," Oliver replied. "Great XO. Father figure."

"Was he hard on you?" he pressed.

"He made us better sailors," Howard countered.

"Commander Reynolds' father was in World War II and in Korea," he explained. Jethro then places a photo of the commander and his father - in uniform - in front of the two sailors. "Did you know that?"

Howard replied without hesitation. "No, Sir."

Jethro placed another photo down on the table in front of the pair. "This is the weapon he carried. It was given to him by a Russian officer."

"XO had it with him on board," DiNozzo chimed in. "And, as you know, that's a big no-no aboard a Navy vessel."

"Does it look familiar?" he asked. He received no response, so continued. "We found tape residue on the commander. The only DNA on it was his own."

"So we were thinking," his Senior Field Agent said. "Well, what if he taped the gun to his hand so it wouldn't move, no matter what?"

"Commander Reynolds was nine months away from mandatory retirement in the Navy," he stated. "He didn't have a family. His career was over."

"So your XO," DiNozzo said, "was about to lose everything he cared about."

"You discovered the body, Ensign?" he asked, although it was really a statement. "You didn't want him remembered as a weak man, so with the petty officer's help you made it look like a murder?"

"The gun was still attached to his hand when I walked in," the ensign finally admitted to the two NCIS agents. "Didn't seem right."

"We knocked some things onto the floor around the bunk. Made it look like a scuffle," the petty officer then added. "Didn't see the bullet casing. He was a man of honour. He deserved to be buried like one."

Ensign Howard nodded in agreement with the petty officer.

Pulling into his driveway a little after 2200, Jethro was beyond relieved to be home. He really needed some sleep. At least the case was closed. With a little luck, maybe they wouldn't catch a major case the following day.