Nothing beats a Gibbs-less bullpen, Tony mused. 0845 on a Monday without the boss, and a trio of unsupervised MCRT agents were basking in the glow of a slow work morning. No heavy paperwork, no cases— just Kate sketching, McGee running software updates, and Tony throwing wads of paper into an ill-placed trash can.

Coming off a gruesome double-homicide the week prior, which only barely wrapped itself up with a forced confession on Friday afternoon, the Senior Field agent welcomed the downtime; a weekend of paperwork and cold pizza left something to be desired.

Of course, as soon as DiNozzo became conscious of the calm, it was immediately disrupted.

"McGee. Run a profile on the screen— former Petty Officer Joshua Parker." The lead agent rounded the bullpen from the elevators, carrying his customary carafe of black coffee. His face bore no indication of the severity of the instruction.

"Dead, missing, or suspicious, boss?" DiNozzo tossed a final wad, which was snatched up by Gibbs as he passed.

From her desk, Kate perked up. "We catch a case?"

"Just pull the profile, McGee."

McGee hammered quietly on his keyboard, while DiNozzo and Kate looked on with piqued interest. A mysterious Gibbs is a dangerous Gibbs .

With a smirk, Gibbs rose from his desk. "Do some research. Have something to show me when I get back." He took a long sip of the coffee, briefly surveying the agents before him. His gaze was appraising of something; DiNozzo felt slightly uneasy, unable to place his boss's deliberacy.

Tony stood, too. "Back from where, Boss? You just got here."

"Wouldn't you like to know, DiNozzo." The former marine walked up the stairs, towards the Director's office. As he mounted the catwalk above, the elevator opened onto the floor. Out from within, stepped a short, well-dressed young man. Upon closer inspection, Tony's confusion grew exponentially.

McGee's head swiveled. "Is that—"

The young man's face was mirrored on McGee's screen.

"Parker, you're with me."

— — —

DC public transportation is trash, or so Josh Parker was quickly discovering. Though the bus stopped a mere block from his apartment rental, the half-mile walk from the bus stop to the NCIS building, left something to be desired. April at the Washington Naval Yard was windier than anticipated; Josh compulsively smoothed a hand down the front of his button-down, as he mounted the steps of the office.

0900, he'd been told, no sooner or later. Based on his brief phone call with Special Agent Gibbs, Josh wasn't exactly sure what to expect at the NCIS office. It seemed to be an interview— at least, that's what he was hoping for. His resume had been passed through every NCIS location along the eastern seaboard, before stopping in DC. If it stuck here, so be it.

The security guard eyed Josh with disinterest as he entered the facility. "You here for a field trip, son?"

Josh rolled his eyes. What else is new? "No, sir." He flashed a smile. "I have a meeting upstairs, with Special Agent Gibbs?"

The guard stood. "You got a Naval ID?"

Fuck . Josh's breath hitched. He grappled, momentarily, for cool composure. "Lost it a few months back, sir. Been meaning to replace it. I believe Agent Gibbs has me on a list?" From within a beaten wallet, Josh procured his Maine State ID, instead.

"See that you do replace it, son. It makes for easier access around here." The guard took the ID, inspecting it against a list behind his desk. "Maine, huh? Long way from here."

Josh re-pocketed his ID, shrugging. "Joined the Navy to see the world. Or something."

The guard snorted. "This ain't the world, son. Just NCIS. Good luck with Gibbs, he's a tough one."

— — —

"There is absolutely no way that dude is 25."

"Timeline checks out, Tony. Graduated from Oceanside High School in Rockland, Maine back in '97, no college. Enlisted straight into the Navy."

Tony snorted. "Maine? What is this, a Stephen King novel?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Tony thinks he has exclusive claim to New England, based on boarding school alone."

"Katie here's just distracted because she thinks he's cute."

"Get real, DiNozzo. Short guys aren't my type."

"My apologies. I forgot you were only into tall, good looking, college-football-playing, well-dressed, handsome, italian—"

McGee cleared his throat. "Guys, there's more. Parker did almost four years in the Navy, stationed for a majority of that time on the USS Albany, which is based out of Norfolk. Says here Parker was discharged in 2001."

Approaching the screen, Tony squinted. "Honorable or dishonorable?"

"Just discharged." McGee shrugged. "From there, there's a gap in his profile resume— 2001 to 2002 is empty. Parker pops back up again in 2003 at a NCIS FLETA program outside Baltimore, then worked as a junior analyst on the public response team in the Northeast field office until last month."

Kate made a low noise of interest. "Maine to the Navy, then back to Rhode Island."

"Close, but no roots." Tony leaned back against his desk. "So the kid enlists young, but is discharged, for whatever reason. Goes dark for a bit, comes back, and takes a spot at NCIS-Newport. Looking after, what, the 15 geriatric marines stationed there?"

With the clicker, Kate scrolled back up, through the biographical information on the screen. "Northeast office to the Navy Yard isn't out of the question. It would be a promotion, for sure."

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, but less than two years as a junior agent at a junior base? Kid's greener than grass. No way he has the qualifications for a transfer."

"You've got to admit, Tony, Parker's clearly been around. 25 is young for an agent, regardless."

Shooting a look at McGee, Tony reached over to turn the monitor off. "25 is 25. You just spent your youth studying chess and playing numbers, McGeek."

From his computer, McGee frowned— not in response to Tony, but something on his screen. "Guys, something's hinky."

"Borrowing vocab from Abby, McGee?" Kate laughed.

The tech-savvy agent turned the monitor of his computer around. "I'm searching through the Naval database for more information on Parker's stay on the Albany. But I think I hit something else, entirely."

— — —

"Parker, have a seat."

In the conference room, adjacent to the Director's office, Josh found himself opposite one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. His palms were sweating; Gibbs' reputation preceded him. He had been something akin to myth back in Newport.

"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today, sir."

"You can cut the 'sir,' son. We're just talkin'." Gibbs surveyed the former Petty Officer with his trademark poker face; sharp blue eyes scanned the younger man with well-concealed interest.

Under the scrutiny, Josh winced, but squared his shoulders. "Of course. Sir."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. From within the pocket of his tweed blazer, the agent procured a tri-folded document. "Got your resume here. Passed straight from Kieschnick, out on the Albany. You came highly recommended."

Josh examined his hands in his lap, blushing. "Commander Kieschnick was my superior in training, sir, during my first deployment. I was grateful to be under his command— he's a good man."

"The best," Gibbs agreed. "Though I never could figure out why he jumped over, the traitor. Fifteen years in the Marines, but the man found a home with the Navy."

Both men chuckled; some of the tension ebbed, slightly. From across the table, Josh couldn't help but feel ultra-conscious of the military markers between them. Although their image was far from mirrored, he saw the ache of perfect posture across the older man's shoulders. Despite the fact that Josh was well overdue for a trim, both men sported similarly-shorn crew cuts; one grey, the other a sandy-blonde. Josh attempted to mirror the agent's guarded expression, though he feared he was failing miserably.

"Forgive me, Agent Gibbs, but I'm curious as to why you called me here, today. Commander Kieschnick was not particularly forthcoming with details; only logistics."

Gibbs offered him a partial smile. "Why do you think you're here today?"

A test. Josh swallowed uncomfortably.

"Well, I'm incredibly interested in the work you do here at the Washington Navy Yard, sir. I'm also curious to see the other side of the curtain, having been stationed nearby before. While I'm grateful for the opportunity to have found my bearings in Newport, there's admittedly not much opportunity for growth up north. It's an honor to be able to see your facilities."

A weathered hand ran through the grey cut. "What's that got to do with why you're here?"

Josh bit his lip, consciously straightening his shoulders again. "Sir, I assumed that Commander Kieschnick's generosity had extended to our meeting here, on the basis of my potentially filling an open position within the Agency here. My confusion stems from why I'm in your company specifically. Sir."

"Thought I said to cut the sir." Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"Due respect, Agent Gibbs."

A shrug. "Gonna get old real fast, son. What's the problem with my company, then?"

"No problem at all. I apologize." Josh backpedaled, hard. "It's just, you're the lead agent of the Major Crimes Response Team, sir. I can't determine why you might assist in the placement of a junior agent into another division."

Gibbs eyed him, this time with pause. "Two years' experience as a low-risk territory field agent with a specialization in analysis. Full marks through your FLETC course. Multiple commendations aboard the Albany, and a glowing profile of recommendations. Says here, you're top five percent in agility, marksmanship, tactile. Dozens of well-completed assignments."

"I am deeply grateful for the time I spent serving, sir. And I'm committed to NCIS."

Gibbs rose from his seat. "You committed to moving back?"

"Stuff's already in a rental, sir."

The older man extended his hand. "Good. That's convenient, then."

"Sir?"

"Gonna need to drop the sir long-term, Parker. 'Gibbs' is just fine."

A very confused, very conflicted Josh Parker shook his hand.

What just happened?

— — —

Gibbs escorted Josh down the flight of stairs, glancing sharply at his team; the trio were stationed at their desks, wide-eyed, watching them descend from the MTAC area.

"Something you wanna say, DiNozzo?" His voice was low, but loud enough for the Senior Field Agent's ears to subsequently blush red.

"No, boss. Just intrigued, is all."

At the base of the stairs, Gibbs turned to Josh, placing himself between the young agent and the rest of his team. "It's long hours, and lots of overnights, Parker."

"Due respect, sir, no one's waiting up for me. I'm just not entirely sure, to what you're referencing?"

Gibbs clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Human Resources is down on the second floor. They'll set you up with a badge, and the paperwork for a Sig."

Eyes blown comically wide, Josh wasn't sure how to respond.

"McGee!"

"Yes, boss?" The probationary agent rose from his desk, across the bullpen.

Gibbs gestured down the hallway. "Go find a fifth computer. We're gonna need to rearrange the layout."

Everyone gaped.

"Boss," DiNozzo started, "there's something we need to show you."

The lead agent turned to Josh, offering him an unreadable expression. "Go downstairs, and report back when you've finished." Dazed, and still confused, Josh could only nod. Rather than wait for the elevator, he made haste to the staircase, and disappeared from the bullpen.

"What is it, DiNozzo?"

McGee gestured to his computer screen; Gibbs squinted at it, straining without his reading glasses.

"Boss, I checked the Naval registry," McGee started, nervously. "There's absolutely no record of any Petty Officer named Joshua Parker."