Waking up Tuesday, he and Shannon shared a shower and went about the rest of their usual morning routine. Once dressed, the couple headed downstairs and got some hot joe as well as some eggs and toast on the go. He'd also been able to have a quick chat on the phone with his father.

His wife smiled across the kitchen table at him as he took a sip of his coffee. "So, with summer break getting closure, where would you like to go on our next vacation? I was thinking of either going down to Baja again or it might be nice to go down to the cabin for a couple of days."

"We could always do both," he pointed out. "A weekend down at the cabin and then a separate, longer, trip somewhere. I have the overtime."

"True," she agreed. "I also wanted to head down to Philly for a weekend."

He smiled affectionately at her. "We can do that. We also need to make a trip down to Stillwater. Dad got our package, by the way." They'd bought the Gibbs patriarch a new bathtub bench given the elderly man's increasing mobility issues.

The redhead dipped her head slightly. "How is he?"

"Still stubborn as a mule," he quipped causing his wife to laugh. Although his old man probably should consider slowing down, it wasn't about to happen. "I'm still trying to think of a way to convince him to move in with us." His father had a knack for shutting down the conversation before it ever really got started.

Shannon nodded. "Do you want me to try?"

"If you wouldn't mind," he said. "You'll probably have better luck than me."

Heading into work later that morning, Jethro met with the director briefly before going down to the squad room and taking a seat at his desk. He then worked on some of his reports and checked his emails. The veteran agent then flipped through a couple of job applicants that his nightshift counterpart had left him a note asking for his opinion on. Their SFA was leaving to finally take over their own team down in Norfolk.

In between all of the typing and reading, Jethro stole glances at his three field agents. McGee was doing something on the computer and Ziva and DiNozzo were both at the Italian-American's desk talking about something quietly. DiNozzo had a playful grin on his face and Ziva was wearing a matching expression. The pair were clearly playing a round of grab ass, though they were mindful of the fact they were at work. He opted not to interfere, knowing they didn't have anything pressing they could do right then. Not until they managed to catch a new lead.

He had been concerned about burning Rule #12 and condoning the relationship, Jenny being a good example of how badly things could go, but the couple was clearly happy together and made sure to respect work boundaries. He didn't regret it in the slightest now. They balanced each other out remarkably well, always had.

Checking in with his team - who had nothing new for him - after handing in a couple of finished reports to the director, Jethro then hopped into one of NCIS's Dodge Chargers and drove all the way down to Quantico, Virginia.

Shortly after 1100 that morning, he was finally turning onto Potomac Ave and parking a small way down the street from S & G Restaurant where Tobias had requested that they both meet that morning.

Tobias was clearly frustrated with his protective detail. "Protecting Ricky Ricardo is not all conga drums and Babalu, you know."

He eyed his friend. "It's only been two days."

"And Méndez already has himself a full dance card," his friend commented, the words coming out at a rather impressive speed. "In the next few weeks, he'll be wining and dining every big shot in town supporting that anti-terrorism group he's part of. And I'll be right there in his hip pocket."

He leaned forward slightly. "Tobias, you can always say no."

"Well, that's the kicker!" the FBI agent replied without missing a beat. "My boss says I can't. The guy's not a-a gangster, Gibbs. He's a law-abiding millionaire out to save the world with his powerful friends. And my job is to say yes."

Before Jethro could respond, a young Native American waitress walked up with a plate of food in her hand and placed it in front of Tobias. "Banana pancakes, extra bacon."

Tobias turned to her. "Could I get... extra extra bacon?"

Jethro waited until the waitress was out of earshot before giving his long-time friend a bit of a hard time about his order. "Breakfast anytime?"

"I crave banana pancakes when I get agitated," the man replied. "And nothing agitates me more than a hospital visit."

Jethro raised an eyebrow while indicating his friend's plate of food with his right hand. "You might want to cut back on the bacon."

"It's not me," Tobias explained while holding out a newspaper page with a photograph of some politico on the front page. "Lawrence Walters. Philanthropist billionaire losing a battle with cancer. He wants to donate a bundle to the anti-terror campaign before he departs. Méndez plans to visit later today."

He tossed the newspaper down on the table. "Seems like a guy worth visiting."

"And that's how you cheer people up?" Tobias chided. "All I feel is more… shallow."

He was saved from having to reply to that comment by the waitress returning with the small plate of bacon Tobias had ordered. "Extra bacon."

Jethro quickly did the mental calculations of the cost of the other man's food order and pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of his wallet. He then turned and handed the cash to the young waitress. "He's on me. Keep the change." Keziah smiled at him as he continued to speak to her. "Thanks."

As the waitress walked away, Tobias eyed him. "Your treat?"

He threw both of his arms up in mock surrender. "Hey, you wanted cheering up."

As Jethro stood up to take his leave, Tobias spoke. "And you think you can buy me?"

He just laughed, opening the glass door and walking out of the restaurant. Heading to the car, Jethro hopped in and drove back to D.C, stopping to grab a large cup of coffee from Elaine's Diner on the way. Once he was back at the Navy Yard, Jethro spoke with his Senior Field Agent and headed down to Abby's lab.

"Hey," he said as he walked in. "Hear you pulled a thumbprint."

Acting a hell of a lot more subdued than usual, she made her way across the forensics lab and to where he was. "It's just a partial."

"Yeah?" he said. "Partial enough?"

"Enough to get a name," the goth confirmed. "Henry Coldwell." He eyed the photo she had pulled up while listening to her. "The record says he was dishonourably discharged from the Army in '06, after serving two years for aggravated assault. But not before he got sniper training."

"That's our shooter," he reiterated. This is the man who tried to kill Tony.

"Yeah," Abby stated softly. "Well, I'm sure if you asked McGee he can probably tell you more. Probably even find him."

"That's good news, Abs!" he said before starting to make his way out of the laboratory. Catching the look on her face, however, he stopped and walked back over to Abby. She was definitely acting off. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Abby sat down on the table and looked up at him. "Well, you yourself said that Parsa is paying hired guns and bombers. I mean, this guy could just be some flunky."

He tried to reassure her somewhat. "A flunky that leads to Parsa."

"I don't know, Gibbs." The goth eyed him sadly. "I think... I just think all this worrying is finally getting to me. Tony getting shot at, and... you, you could've died in Iran. You got lucky." Unfortunately, he couldn't exactly refute that. The After Action Report she'd read had been written by him after all. The truth was, he had gotten lucky that day. "If I can't figure out who's trying to kill everyone I love, I'll never forgive myself."

"This -" He gestured to the photo of their suspect. "- is a good start."

"Yeah," she agreed. "But, Gibbs, it's a brotherhood. Which means that that jerk -" She gestured to their suspect's photograph. "- has brothers."

"Abs." He leaned in and kissed the usually bubbly goth on the cheek. "We're gonna get 'em." Jethro had no intentions of closing their investigation until all of the members of the damn terror cell of Benham Parsa's had been handled. More than enough innocent people had been hurt. "We're gonna get 'em all."

Heading back up to the squad room, Jethro filled his team in on the conversation with Abby and had McGee put a BOLO out on Henry Coldwell. He wanted the son of a bitch in custody as soon as possible. Before the guy could complete the job.

As far as the rest of the afternoon went, things were rather slow. With no hits coming back on their BOLO yet, they had no new leads to follow. That left them with quite a bit of time at their desks catching up on paperwork.

That was until Jethro got a phone call shortly after 1700. Apparently, Tobias had made good on his deal with Mr. Méndez and took the Cuban-American man to visit Lawrence Walters at Washington General Hospital. Unfortunately, moments after they arrived at the hospital, a bomb went off, leaving multiple people dead or injured. The only bright said to the otherwise horrible situation was that, by a stroke of dumb luck, Mr. Méndez had taken a phone call just outside of the SUV and neither Tobias nor the rest of that protective detail had been inside when the explosion happened.

Stressed given everything, Jethro tried to reassure his long-time friend who was quite shaken but physically okay. He knew Tobias just needed time though as Jethro had felt and acted much the same way after the attack on NCIS back in May of 2012. Hell, he had felt much the same way since the ambush in Tehran.

Resigned to the fact that he couldn't magically fix things for his friend, no matter how badly he wanted to, Jethro was even more determined to take down the Brotherhood of Doubt. With that thought, he headed home to his wife.

Walking through the door, there wasn't a moment of hesitation. He took off his black blazer, tossed it onto the back of the recliner, and then his mouth met Shannon's. He felt a shudder run through him and then a sound came from the back of his throat. It was half growl, half moan. Jethro deepened the kiss, parting her lips. She pushed off the wall, closing the short distance between them, pressing against him, digging her fingers into his short hair.

The rush of sensations crawling across his body was maddening. Thrilling. He needed this. To feel alive. To not have to think for a few minutes. To just be.

His hands were on Shannon's hips, and he lifted his wife up as if she were made of air. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and they moved to the right, knocking into one of the lamps. It toppled over, but Jethro didn't spare it another moment's thought. He felt alive in the best way. They were devouring one another, drowning in each other.

Lowering her hands, his wife tugged at his shirt, but it was stuck under her legs. She wiggled down until her feet were on the floor. Then Shannon got a hold of his shirt and yanked it up. He broke apart long enough to pull it over his head and toss it aside. His hands slid around her head, pulling her back to his mouth. There was a knock coming from the door, but he didn't care.

His hands were moving down, under her shirt, his fingers skimming over her skin, a rush of blood being sent to every part of his body. And her hands went down before her shirt finally joined his on the floor. He unclasped her bra with expert precision and then unceremoniously tossed it on the floor as well. Skin against skin. His hummed, brimming full of energy. Shannon ran her fingers down his chest, to the button on his slacks, undoing them eagerly.

The back of Shannon's legs hit the couch and they went down, a tangle of legs and hands moving, exploring. Their hips were moulded together and they moved against one another. He could just make out his name leaving Shannon's lips and his arms tightened around her, crushing her against his chest and his hands slipped between her legs. He was swimming in raw sensations.

"So beautiful," he murmured against her swollen lips. And then Jethro was kissing her again. The deep kind of kisses that left little room for thought. There was only feeling and wanting. That was all. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling Jethro closer, telling him what she wanted with her soft moans.

Their kisses slowed, becoming tender and yet infinitely more. his body ached for more than just kisses and touching - for more of her. And he knew she did too. Her stunning body shook like his. It was so easy to get lost in her, to lose himself in this connection that had always been between them.

"There's no chance of you letting me top is there?" she asked, breathing heavily.

"Maybe later," he growled out before helping to take off the rest of her clothes. He was fully hard now. Once both her knee-length skirt and thong were off and on the ground, his slacks laying right beside them, his mouth met hers once again and he entered her, thrusting into Shannon with overwhelming need.

Shannon clenched the large cushion just above her head, rolling her hips slightly when he quickened his pace. His weight on her thighs prevented her from moving much but he eagerly quickened his pace even more. The gorgeous redhead beneath him gasped and squirmed slightly, her heart rate picking up. God, he loved this woman with every fibre of his being. Nobody had ever made him feel the way she did.