Jethro woke up on Tuesday morning to a phone call that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Tobias had been shot at while picking up a bite to eat from Beltway Burgers after work quite late the prior night. The FBI agent had been in the drive-thru when some stranger walked up to him and shot him through the windscreen. Jumping out of bed, Jethro quickly showered, threw on some clothes, and then called his team to order them to meet him on scene.

Shannon leaned in close and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Keep me posted on Tobias." His wife shook her head in what could only be described as fond exasperation. "I swear, it's like you boys keep trying to one-up each other in battle scars."

Jethro rolled his eyes, appreciating the effort to keep things lighter despite the concern over Tobias that he was feeling. "I think I'm still winning."

She shot him a rather pointed look. "Not helping yourself here, Babe. F2." Family Rule #2: Dad is not allowed to ignore his health or needlessly get himself hurt as he is wont to do. Shannon's expression then shifted slightly. "Two words," she deadpanned as she held two fingers up. "Tactical. Vests."

"I'm aware," he retorted as he pulled his wife back in for a proper kiss. "I gotta go, but I'll call you later on with an update."

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Be careful."

He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring look. "You know I will."

Heading out to the Beltway Burgers location where the shooting took place, Jethro was really relieved to see Tobias on his feet and, to all appearances, in as good of spirits as could be expected given the current situation and clearly having just dealt with a pair of EMTs and gave his statement.

FBI agents were already on scene and had been for some time, something that Jethro wanted to change. He was taking over the case. He eyed his SFA. "DiNozzo."

"We'll take it from here, Boss!" his Senior Field Agent replied without missing a beat. "Sketch and shoot, McGee."

"Relax," Tobias said as Jethro walked up. "I told you I was okay."

Jethro eyed the shot-up, FBI-issued, blue bulletproof vest beside his friend with a mix of concern and relief that Tobias had been wearing the damn thing.

"Rough day at the office," Tobias explained. "I was too tired to take it off."

"Not too tired to shoot back," he commented.

"He ruined my favourite jacket," Tobias quipped. "I'd have shot my own mother."

He nodded, easily reading between the lines. Adrenalin was a hell of a thing. It didn't matter how tired you were, survival instincts would kick in.

The FBI agent eyed him appreciatively. "Thanks for coming."

Jethro licked his lips and then nodded before turning to Tobias. "Didn't have a choice." Teasing the other man, he pointed to the assailant. "Shooter was Navy." Nothing could keep me away from this, Tobias. Nowhere else I'd rather be.

Getting out of the back of the ambulance, Jethro and Tobias both headed over towards where Ziva, McGee, and Ducky were.

"Meet Navy Seaman Tyler Brown," McGee informed them. "Twenty-two years old. Just returned from his first deployment on the U.S.S. Enterprise."

Ziva instantly proceeded to chime in as well. "His TDY was mess duty, pending his next assignment, and that is all we have."

Well, he isn't about to return to that temporary duty assignment any time soon. Jethro turned to face his friend. "You recognize him, Tobias?"

"Never seen him before in my life," the FBI agent replied.

Ziva eyed Tobias. "Well, he must have known you."

"You receive any threats lately?" McGee asked.

"Just from my ex-wife," Tobias said. "But then, she lives on my bad side."

Ducky decided to fill them in on the damage. "Six shots, right through the chest. Nice shooting. Remind me not to get on your bad side." The medical examiner glanced up at him. "Jethro, I think we can safely say that cause of death was..."

"One pissed-off FBI agent," Tobias drawled.

"Can you think of anyone you might have antagonized?" Ziva inquired.

"Is there anyone I haven't?" Tobias retorted. "I put thirty guys behind bars in the past year. Twelve of them are out already."

Jethro nodded. Enemies came with the job. "Gonna need a list."

"I know the drill," Tobias said with a note of irritation. "My gut tells me you're barking up the wrong tree." The FBI agent gestured in the direction of a vehicle. "You see the shooter's car? I'll bet you ten bucks he's hopped up, looking for some easy cash."

The constriction in his pupils might suggest that he was on some sort of stimulant.

"There you go," Tobias said. "Carjacking. I was a target of opportunity."

DiNozzo walked up with a look that made it clear that Jethro wasn't going to like what his Senior Field Agent had to say. "I think you were a little more than that. Found this in the shooter's car."

Ziva grabbed the evidence bag. A few seconds later, frowning, she handed it to Jethro. "You were not a target of opportunity."

Jethro eyed the piece of evidence. It was a matchbook with the description and license plate of Tobias' car written inside. Extremely concerned now, he handed it over to his fellow team leader and friend.

On the other hand, at least the perp was helpful enough to do something that could provide a lead in the investigation. "You were targeted."

Tobias eyed the matchbook, more than a tad stunned as the realization finally dawned that this had, in fact, been a hit. "That's my license plate."

Finishing up at the crime scene, Jethro and Tobias decided to go check out the bar the matchbook was from, a regular at the bar explaining that Seaman Brown was a rough bouncer and suggested that the man may have been dealing speed on the side.

"You ever see it?" Tobias asked.

"Well, no!" the man admitted. "But, uh... I hear things."

"Don't go anywhere," Jethro replied simply.

The two federal agents swiftly walked just out of earshot at the other end of the bar so that they could talk shop with some degree of privacy.

"What are you thinking?" the FBI agent questioned almost instantly. "Ducky did say he thought the kid was on something."

"I think we wait for the blood work," he replied. "Then we run it down."

Before Tobias could reply, a redheaded woman walked out of the ladies' room a couple of feet away, immediately drawing their attention.

Tobias eyed the redhead. "That's funny, she looks just like our ex-wife."

Diane eyed them with a rather awkward smile. "Well, this is a coincidence, the three of us running into each other, like this."

Rule #39: There is no such thing as a coincidence. "Oh, I doubt that."

"What are you doing here?" he inquired.

"That's none of your business," Diane retorted. "Excuse me."

Both men gently blocked the fiery redhead in.

"Okay," Diane conceded. "I'm working."

"That what you call pushing papers all day?" Tobias teased.

The FBI agent's comment evidently struck a nerve with their ex-wife. "I am an auditor, not a paper pusher. After Emily started seventh grade, I went back to the IRS."

Tobias shot him a look. "Fitting, isn't it? A cheater going after tax cheats."

"Are you still going on about that?" Diane asked. "It's ancient history."

Jethro decided to redirect their conversation to what they actually had to discuss. "So, what are you doing here?"

"What else?" she stated. "An audit." Jethro wasn't sure if he really bought that excuse or not, but decided to give her the benefit of the doubt for the time being. "There were some discrepancies with the bar's tax return."

Apparently, Tobias wasn't feeling quite as generous at the moment. "So, you're gonna pretend you don't know anything about what happened?"

Diane looked genuinely baffled. "What happened?"

"Diane!" Tobias started to explain. "I was..."

Jethro abruptly cut his long-time friend off. "Shh..."

The FBI agent eyed him, visibly confused. "Shh?"

Take the damn hint, Tobias. "Shh!"

Diane's gaze flickered between both men. "You two spring a leak or something?"

Neither man had a chance to reply as the bartender, Al Parker, walked up to them.

"Oh," the bartender said, "I thought you'd left."

"We just have a couple more questions for both of you," Tobias stated.

"Okay," Diane stated as she turned around to speak to the bartender. "Just remember that our conversation is... confidential."

The bartender nodded. "Of course, Mrs. Fornell."

Did he just say…? "Mrs. -"

Tobias finished his sentence. "- Fornell?"

"But I spoke with the owner," the bartender continued to say completely unperturbed. "He appreciates the offer, but he's not interested in selling his bar."

What the hell is going on? "Selling -"

"- the bar?" the FBI agent said before eying him. "Didn't she say 'audit'?"

Jethro nodded. "Yeah."

Diane shot the bartender a rather forced smile as she finally chimed in. "Do you know what 'confidential' means?"

"Do you know what 'obstruction of justice' means?" he retorted.

God, he thought he was done having to deal with Diane's crap when they got divorced. He had to give her some credit, however. Like it or not, the woman had always known how to make one hell of an entrance.