It was one of those mornings. One of those mornings when the sun felt nice and warm against the duvet, heating up his body laying beneath it. Jethro could hear the birds chirping and only a chilly breeze moved through the small gap in the window. It was amazing how peaceful a moment could feel, and how only a few minutes could feel like a lifetime when caught in the right moment.

"Morning," Shannon said, letting a tired smile spread over her face. It looked as if she hadn't been awake much longer than him - eyes slightly puffy from sleep, hair a mess and her words a little bit slow. He couldn't deny that these were some of his favourite moments spent together; waking up with Shannon in the early morning, just laying together until deciding to face the outside world again. Little moments like these were the best - he couldn't deny it.

"Good morning to you too," he said, smiling back at her. He let out a long yawn before his wife snuggled up against his bare chest. "You know, I could probably get away with leaving a bit early today."

Shannon snorted at his comment. "That'll be the day."

"I have some comp time coming to me." He kissed his wife on the forehead. "Save for the end of the world, I'll be home for dinner."

She gave him a sideways smile. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

Jethro gave a little hum in response.

"When d'ya have to be at work this morning?" Shannon asked.

He gave her a wry smile. "0700. The usual."

They laid in bed for a few more minutes and then, after a rather heated shower, they both got dressed for work, Jethro throwing on his usual combination of slacks, a polo shirt with a white crew-neck t-shirt underneath, and a blazer.

The pair then headed downstairs for an easy breakfast of cereal and some, especially in Jethro's case, much-needed caffeine. Neither felt like rushing to cook anything so they just shovelled down some grainy o's.

Jethro walked into the squad room an hour later, a tray with two coffees in hand, and glanced behind Ziva's desk. Jethro immediately thought back to shortly before Kate's death when he had found her sleeping on the floor behind the desk. At the time, he'd pulled Kate's coat up over her sleeping form, letting her sleep given the fact that she had been on protective detail the entire night.

The loss of Kate still stung, if he was completely honest. She'd died so nonsensically, protecting him from Israeli-born Mossad officer and a terrorist with daddy issues who wanted to throw a tantrum.

She'd been one hell of an agent. A great addition to their team.

He smiled slightly as he saw Dr. Cranston is sleeping in the exact same spot that her little sister had been all those years ago. Jethro put one of the coffees down next to her, the doctor gently waking up.

"So how'd we do?" he asked, smiling down at her warmly.

"I can't tell," she said. "Doctor-patient privilege."

"Aw, come on, Doc." He took a sip of his coffee. "It's me."

"Still one agent I haven't spoken to yet," she commented.

"Well," he replied with a cheeky grin, "that's not gonna happen."

"I forgot," she said. "You're perfect."

"No," Jethro admitted. He was far from it. "No, I'm just too set in my ways to change now. You know when you were lying there a second ago... you looked just like your sister, you know that?" She smiled at the comparison. "I'm glad you reached out."

Dr. Cranston now adopted a more serious expression.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked.

The doctor was evidently deciding how to put what she wanted to say. "Finally... got to meet the people closest to Kate when she died."

"Closure," he said.

"Some," Cranston said. "Some." Her voice broke as she continued to speak. "You've been better at letting go than I have."

"You don't forget," he said. "You just move on."

"Come on," he said, giving her a hand up. "I want to show you something."

She eyed him curiously. "Where are we going?"

His reply was simple. "Home."

In the basement at his house, Jethro maneuvered Dr. Cranston to a specific position. Shannon had already left for work, so he and the doctor had the house to themselves. "This is where the guy who murdered Kate died," he told her. "This is where Ziva shot her own brother. That, Doc, is closure." He took a step towards her. "Now the rest is just memories. Nothing wrong with memories."

Dr. Cranston smiled wistfully as Jethro poured her a drink, the young woman clearly lost in a memory from years past.

Eventually, she spoke. "Never went to the funeral. Just couldn't do it."

He passed her the drink and she took a swig.

"Families all grieve in different ways," he said. He was the last person to judge.

Dr. Cranston then managed to flip the script on Jethro, saying that she wanted to ask him a question and see if he could answer it. Admittedly, he should've seen it coming. "Man walks into a bar, asks the bartender for a glass of water. Bartender pulls out a shotgun, fires a blast, just missing the man. Man says 'Thank you,' puts a tip on the bar, and exits. Why the 'thank you'… and the tip?"

He thought about it for a moment and then laughed. "The guy had the hiccups."

The doctor chuckled softly and then gave him a pointed look. "It's all about responses, Gibbs. You, Vance... your agents. When you keep things bottled up inside... even the harshest response seems appropriate."

It was clearly meant as a message and Jethro took it as such.

With their little chat coming to a close, Jethro gave Dr. Cranston a lift to her office and headed back to NCIS to get started on his own work.

Vance spotted him as he got into the elevator. "Hi, Gibbs. Late start?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied cheekily.

"Ah," Vance said, "but I'm the boss and I asked first."

Jethro shook his head in amusement. "I, uh, had to deal with something." He adopted a slightly more serious demeanour. "So, how'd we do?"

The director shot Jethro a look that said he was clearly relieved. "Your team's all good to go. Officially cleared for duty."

He hummed. "That's great, Leon." Jethro did want to know specifics but knew full well that the director wasn't about to break confidentiality and that it would end up being a futile argument. His team was cleared for duty. That was all that mattered really.

As the elevator opened, Vance gave him a curt nod. "Back to work, Agent Gibbs."

Jethro smirked. "Of course, Director."