A/N: Quick update because I got some extra time to write. Once again, thanks everyone, the reviews have been really kind. Love, thank you for the beta, I don't know what I'd do without you by my side.

"C'mon Ziva, you can do better than that."

"I don't know. This case is… is… Oh screw it, it's all too much of a mess."

"McProbie?"

McGee sighed and took a printout from his desk. "So, Andersen's sample indicated that she did die of atropine poisoning but… the atropine sample doesn't match the ones from the recent murders… and we still haven't figured out how long was the atropine stored for-"

"Tossed and fed to the rats would be more appropriate."

"Right, tossed and fed to the rats then, thank you Tony. Anyway, nobody bothered to register the damned thing."

"Can't Abby figure that out? I mean, she can analyse it, can't she?" Ziva suggested.

"She tried to this afternoon. Too corrupted. According to her, it could have been there for the past fifty to fifteen years, giving the poor condition of the room."

"Any clever ideas during my short absence?" Gibbs asked as he headed to his desk holding a big cup of steaming coffee. "McGee, you seemed to be very talkative."

"Boss, I was just saying… well, nothing you didn't already know, actually."

"So let's focus on what we don't know, right? DiNozzo?"

"What?"

"Share your thoughts with the rest of the class."

"The killer is some crazy, sadistic lunatic with nothing better to do than murdering marines' wives. What? Any of you has a better idea?"

"We've been dwelling on this for… what, one week? No, more than that. I don't know, something must be missing…"

"Of course something is missing, Ziva. Otherwise we'd have someone locked in the cells downstairs," Tony replied from his seat.

"Ziva, Dinozzo."

"Yes, Boss?"

"I want you both at the Base tomorrow."

"What? Again?"

"Yes. Again. You'll find everything about Christine Andersen. McGee, you stay here, doing the same. Search and find everything about the family. Go through files, birth certificates, any kind of legal document."

"Right, Boss," McGee nodded.

"Why are we still following this Andersen girl? Besides the fact she's been dead for the past fifty years, everything points to accidental death."

"Since when do I have to tell you my reasons, DiNozzo?" Gibbs finished his coffee and threw the cup in the litter. "And I saw that," he added as Tony shrugged and exchanged a quick look with Ziva. "Let's call it a day then."

Tonight she didn't even try to work. Instead of heading directly to her study as she did almost every evening, she went to her room. A hot shower helped her get rid of the tensions her body had accumulated during the day but did very little for her state of mind. Her first thought was to lie down on the bed and try to catch all the sleep she could but then she recalled she had to eat something. She couldn't even tell how much time had passed since her last meal.

Clad in her nightgown and housecoat, she went downstairs to the kitchen. After going through the wasteland that her fridge had become, she helped herself to a bit of orange juice and decided on some toasts. Judging by the look and smell of the milk, she didn't even need to check the 'best before' date.

As she waited for the toaster to pop up the two slices of bread she had found, she wondered exactly when it was that she had begun to forget about shopping. More precisely, about sending someone else to do it. In these past few years she'd had little time for those domestic affairs.

She was finishing her improvised meal when she heard the door opening. Wiping the crumbs off her housecoat, she rose from her chair to meet Gibbs in the hall.

"Hi. Tired?"

His arms circled her waist and he just shrugged in reply.

"Someone is still bothered by the case…"

His answer was another shrug.

"Want something to eat? I hope you like buttered toast…"

He laughed lightly. "That's all you have to offer?"

"Don't complain. At least the butter isn't rotten yet."

"I thought your perfect housekeeper took care of everything, including the food."

"So did I. But since I rarely eat at home these days she probably got tired of cooking and seeing it rotten in three days. I didn't even notice she'd stopped."

"Guess tomorrow's breakfast is on me."

"I'll make sure of that." she grabbed his hand. "Since you don't want anything, mind if we go upstairs?"

"Sure."

"Good. I want to lie down."

"You tired?"

"A bit. Standing up all afternoon in MTAC is always tiring."

"Especially when you're wearing those crazy heels of yours."

"Stilettos, Jethro."

"That, yes."

As they got to the room upstairs, she sat on the bed while he went to her dresser.

"What're you looking for?"

"Clothes. I'm running out of them."

"Any particular reason to think they'd be mixed with mine?" Jenny jumped from the bed as she saw the mess he was making. "Jetho, stop! I happen to like ironed clothes!"

"I have to stop by my place to get more," he said as she neatly began to fold everything back.

"Look in the laundry room tomorrow. Noemi must have washed and ironed some of your shirts."

"Really? How nice of her," Gibbs sat on what was now his side of the bed.

"You're starting to realise the wonders of a neat house?" she teased as she closed the last drawer.

He leant against the pillows, folding his arms behind his head. "Be careful, I might get too used to it, you know? Clean, ironed shirts, tidy house-"

"No boats in the basement," she laid by his side, resting her head onto his chest.

His fingers tangled in her hair, playing with it. "You're up for that celebration?" he asked after a bit, his voice low.

"I would, yes… If you weren't in the middle of a case."

His blue eyes questioned her.

"I know you, Jethro. Your mind wouldn't be here. It's better to wait for you to close it and then we can celebrate properly."

"We keep on delaying it…"

"I know. Maybe next weekend, if you have it closed by then. We could even have dinner out. What do you think?"

"And until then… no having our wicked way with each other?"

She couldn't suppress a laugh at seeing his worried face. "Of course not! I was just talking about the celebration."

"Oh. Right then."

"Less worried?" she mocked. He replied with a kiss.

"How're you feeling Jen?" he asked as they parted.

"Fine. And you?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because… you complained so much about… my rush. How are you coping with… all these changes in your life?"

"This talk is getting a bit maudlin Jen, don't you think?"

Yes, it is. Thank Ducky for that, she thought to herself. "Alright. How's the case going then?"

"Not going, you mean."

"Want to share?"

"Not really."

"C'mon Jethro. We used to discuss every mission back then."

"You weren't my Boss back then."

"You'll never get over it, will you?" despite the lightness of her tone, she was a bit annoyed. And it didn't help that he hadn't answered the question. "Did you get the details of the Andersen autopsy?"

"Yes, Ducky filled me in."

"Atropine poisoning?"

"Yes. But Abby said the sample didn't match the atropine found in the other bodies."

"Dead end again?"

"I hope not. I sent DiNozzo and Ziva to the Base first thing in the morning. I want them to dig out every piece of information about Christine Andersen."

"Based in?"

"My gut."

"Oh, of course. I can imagine their reaction to that."

"I didn't tell them. I just sent them to Quantico."

"How nice of you."

"So I'm a nice guy now? Since when?"

"I tried to find your nice side when I was your probie."

"Did you?"

"Yeah. I gave up the second day. But I agree with you."

"About my lack of niceness?"

"No. About Christine Andersen. Somehow she's linked… I just can't see how, exactly. The way she died, the time…"

"Jen?" Gibbs called after she remained silenced for a few seconds.

"What if… if Christine's death inspired all the other murders?" Jenny raised her head to look him in the eye. "That would explain the clothes, the make-up."

She could almost hear him thinking. "We still wouldn't have a motive."

"I know. But… there's been always something twisted about this case, hasn't there? What's usually the point of masquerading a victim?"

"Making her look like someone else."

"Precisely."

"Your gut doesn't work bad either, Jen."

"Thank you. But I prefer to call it brain, if you don't mind. Anyway, make sure Ziva and DiNozzo look into any relationship Christine might have had in the Base. I know it's going to be difficult after fifty years…"

"Do you smell a passionate crime?"

"I don't want to rule it out, no."

"Jen?"

"What?"

"You're muscling in on my investigation. Again."

"Oh, shut up, Jethro."

"Nevertheless, I think I'll phone DiNozzo to make sure he asks the right questions tomorrow. Now, changing the subject a bit."´

"Yes?"

"Do you know why Ducky was so grumpy this morning?"

Jenny felt like sighing in annoyance, but that would have been too revealing. "Was he?"

"Yes. First it took him ages for him to get to the autopsy room after delivering some samples to Abby, according to that Palmer boy. I wasn't going to stand there waiting for him so I went to the lab instead. When he got back, he was grumpy as hell."

"Maybe something to do with his mother. She's the only person who can leave him like that." Besides me.

"She does get to him sometimes, but not like that, not that I ever saw."

"Well, I don't know then. Maybe it was just a bad day."

Gibbs nodded. His fingers had now left her hair and were busy caressing her cheeks, moving lower to her chin and neck. "It's getting late. You need to rest."

"I thought I was the boss here," she bantered back, not wanting to show how she liked his concern.

He ignored her and carefully rose from the bed, her moans of protest disappearing when he adjusted a pillow under her head, removed her housecoat and gently pulled the duvet over her.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom. A quick shower and I'm back."

"I'll wait for you."

"Sleep, woman. I don't want my child to be born an insomniac."

She smiled at his mention. "Alright. I'll make sure I'm sleeping like a log when you get here." She adjusted the pillow beneath her head. "Goodnight Jethro."

"Who was it?"

Tony dropped his mobile phone onto the front-seat. "Guess who…"

"Gibbs?" Ziva asked by his side.

"Of course."

"What did he want?"

"For us to interview Gunny Andersen again. Yeah, great; after he pisses the guy off, we have to make the amends and get him to spill out his sister's love life." Tony leant and checked the car's clock. "All this before 0800. Do you really have to overtake every damn lorry that happens to be on the road?"

"You're still complaining about my driving, Tony?"

"I'm too young and too good-looking to die smashed by a lorry that's going to deliver spray cheese in Arkansas. Hey, you did that one on purpose!"

"Me?" Ziva asked sweetly as she turned back to the right-side track after overtaking a minibus. "That wasn't even a lorry. So, why the interest in her love life? Did he explain?"

"You wish."

As they reached the base, Tony showed their identification to the privets guarding the gates.

"It was about time they let us park inside," Ziva said as she braked abruptly, causing Tony's stomach to somersault as the safety belt dug painfully into his belly.

"Let's hope they're as cooperative in the interviews," he replied while getting out of the car. "So, start looking for Gunny Andersen…"

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