"McGee, go," Gibbs ordered.
"Petty Officer Jamison Stevens, just back from a tour, no complaints on his records," McGee started.
"In fact," Tony chimed in, "his boss said he was the nicest, most honest man on the team. He's shocked, can't even begin to think of someone who might want to hurt him."
"Nothing unusual in his records, no previous problems with the law," Ziva added.
"Which begs the question, what did Stevens stumble across?" Tony questioned.
"Shoot! Boss!" Gibbs lifted his eyebrows at McGee. "News report on the web says there is a witness to the Petty Officer's body dump-" "Amy Zane!" DiNozzo exclaimed softly, realizing why that flash of blond hair was so familiar. Zane had a reputation as a reporter to stir up scandal where there was none. McGee nodded and continued, "It gives Jacobs' name and says she can provide a description of the man!"
"Let's go!" Gibbs barked.
The twenty minute drive to Morgan's house took a mere thirteen minutes with Gibbs driving. The knock on the door went unanswered, but they knew she was home. Classical music could just be heard floating through the door. Concern grew when their continued attempts to get an answer failed, and the team waited while Ziva picked the lock.
Morgan, for her part, was just drying herself off from a shower and putting on a robe when she heard one of the floorboards squeak. Fear froze her muscles for a split second until another squeak broke through. She grabbed her shampoo and conditioner bottles and hid behind the door. The gun just peaking through the doorway made her swallow, but she aimed and threw the first bottle right at the hand with a gun. "What the-!" The conditioner went flying, straight at his head before Morgan caught a glimpse of the man. "Agent DiNozzo?" She asked, confused, as the other agents raced up behind him. They saw the bottles, Tony rubbing his nose, and Morgan in a bathrobe, and quickly put the pieces together. Agent David and another agent Morgan did not know started laughing.
"What's going on?" Morgan questioned, pulling her robe closer together.
"We would like to speak to you, if you don't mind. We'll wait for you in the kitchen." And with that, the man-Agent Gibbs, she remembered hearing his name earlier that day-walked away, the other three following.
"There's an icepack in the freezer," Morgan offered, and heard the two agents start to laugh again.
They weren't laughing when they explained the situation five minutes later. Morgan looked down at her table, angry at the thoughtless reporter, scared she might be targeted. But that was why this team was here, wasn't it? She took a deep breath and looked up to meet Agent Gibbs' eyes dead on. "What do you need me to do?" she asked.
He studied her and gave a nod. "Ziva, help her pack some items. Ms. Jacobs, you will have to come with us for a while."
The two ladies stood. "Morgan. Call me Morgan," she insisted before leaving the room.
"Then you must call me Ziva," insisted the beautiful agent as she followed Morgan to her bedroom.
"Pretty name," Morgan said.
"Thank you. And I loved the way you used these," Ziva said, picking up the shampoo bottles and smirking, "Great aim."
Morgan laughed, "Thanks." She sobered quickly, "It was at that exact moment I was wishing I had taken my father's advice and taken some self-defense classes." She shook her head.
"Well," Ziva said slowly, considering, "Since you will be spending some time with us, I could teach you some moves…if you are interested," she trailed off.
Morgan paused in her packing, "That would be awesome. Thank you so much!"