10 days earlier...

Agent Ziva David skimmed through her email inbox, meticulously. Her efforts mainly focused on ignoring, or rather not setting off Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo's usual pattern of office antics. The efforts were in vain, however, as she felt a rubber-band skim dangerously close past her head. She sent him a glare as fair warning, then returned to her screen.

It wasn't ten seconds later that one of the bands hit her chest and she let out a huff, "Tony! Please!" she glanced over at McGee's vacant desk. "Where is McGee, so that you will get out of my head?"

Tony smirked at her, "Out of my hair," he corrected. "And what makes you think McGoo showing up will stop my attacks on you?" he raised a brow.

"Either way," she said through squinted eyes as she leaned forward on her desk, "If one more rubber-band flies in my direction, I will return fire and you will not have use of your right eye for a week." Her words were quiet, but firm and completely serious. Tony held up his hands in surrender, a smirk still mildly playing on his lips, although he had no doubt in his mind that she would follow through. Satisfied that her threat would halt any further disruptions, Ziva went back to her emails.

Not another ten seconds later, she felt yet another band smack her in the forehead. Without so much as a second's delay, she fetched the projectile and shot it toward the offending partner who flung himself backward, throwing his arms up to cover his face. Though the band didn't make it to her intended mark, Tony's defensive moves sent him crashing into the filing cabinet and falling out of his chair with a thud onto the floor. Ziva laughed through her nose, satisfied at the self-inflicted form of punishment.

The elevator opened on their floor and McGee hurriedly made his way to the bullpen, inwardly grateful that Gibbs wasn't there at the moment as he got to his desk. Tony sheepishly pushed himself up off of the floor, trying to inconspicuously straighten his clothes as he made a face at Ziva before turning to the untimely agent. "You're late, Probie."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry," he said as he hung his jacket up and sat down in front of his computer. "I was uh...a little held up, this morning," he explained.

Tony appraised him for a long moment, realizing something he just couldn't let slide without investigating deeper. "You seem a bit disheveled," he said with narrowed eyes. "Just how, exactly, were you held up now?"

"None of your business, Tony," he said, hoping he would leave it alone.

Tony flashed a grin, "You were late for something really good, weren't you? I can tell...you had a very good morning, didn't ya, McTardy?" he pushed.

"Would ya drop it?" he said, looking up at the agent standing close beside the desk.

"I can tell by your face," he continued. Tony's expression changed into one of shock and amazement, "You...you had buenos dias sex, didn't you?"

Tim's face immediately flushed, "Damn it, Tony..."

"You did! Probie! I'm so proud of you," he gleamed. "I didn't even know you went out last night."

"I didn't," he replied as he tried to busy himself on the computer.

Tony squinted as he slowly made his way toward Ziva's desk without taking his eyes of McGee. "I think McGoo has a girlfriend and he's been keeping it from us," he said.

"Is this true, McGee?" Ziva asked with an inquisitive brow. Tim glanced briefly at each of them before returning his gaze to his screen.

"Okay, spill it. What's wrong with her? Facial hair? Man hands? Don't tell me you've adopted a stripper with all your money..."

"There's nothing wrong with her," McGee looked over at him with a defending tone. "She's perfect."

"Not a level 5 sorceress..." Tony narrowed his eyes.

"No."

"Where did you meet her?" Ziva asked as she and Tony approached Tim's desk slowly.

"Well...originally, we met online. Talked for a few months, then decided to start dating," he waited for the inevitable swings that would come.

"How do you know she's not a serial killer?" Tony quipped.

"She's not a serial killer, Tony," he said with narrowed eyes. "She's beautiful, smart, funny..."

"There's gotta be something wrong if she's dating you," Tony said sarcastically.

"Hilarious, DiNozzo. But you're wrong."

"How long have you been dating her?" Ziva inquired.

"A little over six months, now," he replied. Shock washed their faces at his answer and Tony looked at Ziva.

"Ya know, I thought he was lookin' a bit too cheerful lately. I can't believe it took me this long to figure it out..."

"Why did you not tell us?" Ziva asked.

"Because I didn't wanna jinx it," he replied. "And to be honest, I didn't know if it was going to develop into anything, and I didn't wanna give Tony anymore ammo if it ended badly."

"I guess that is acceptable enough," Ziva said then glanced at Tony before returning to her desk.

Tony sneered at her then look back at Tim, "So she's hot, then? Got any pictures?"

"Do you really think I'd bring them with me to the office, the way you constantly snoop around through my stuff?"

"Good point," he replied. "Sure it's not because she's a dog?" he smirked.

Tim stood with a furrowed brow, "She's not a dog. Don't ever talk about her that way again," he defended.

"Okay, okay," Tony backed off with his hands up. "Gee, Probie, calm down. I was just messin' with ya."

"You can mess with me all you want. But don't bring Kendra into it," he calmed slightly.

"Kendra...that's a nice name. Like the Girls Next Door. Is she blond?" he grinned.

"Brunette," he sank back down into his chair. "Really pretty blue-green eyes," a small grin broke out on his face. "And she can dance...she's a dancer. No- not a stripper, Tony, so don't go there. She teaches ballet downtown. She's really good."

"Dancers are very...flexible," Ziva commented with a smirk.

"Yeah," McGee grinned, but quickly wiped it off his face. "She's really good with computers, too. She went to school to learn programming. But her real passion is dance. I think I like that about her."

"Does she have a sister?" Tony asked, semi-seriously. McGee cocked his head at him.

"No time for setting up dates, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he entered the bullpen. "We've got a dead Marine."

11 111 11 111 11 111 11 111 11

"So, you are getting serious with Kendra?" Ziva asked McGee as they photographed the crime scene.

"I think so," he smirked. "She told me she loved me."

"And do you feel the same?"

Tim paused for a long moment, "Yeah, I do. It took me a few minutes to get over the shock when she told me...and I think I might've unintentionally freaked her out a bit when I didn't respond right away."

"But this morning must have cleared things up for the both of you, yes?" she said before the corners of her mouth turned up.

"Oh...uh, well...the 'I love yous' came a couple weeks ago. This morning was just...something spontaneous and unexpected. Usually we don't do sleeping over, on account of me having to be at work pretty early and her shows usually run pretty late. Kendra passes out fairly early after a show night. But she had the night off..."

Ziva took a moment to appraise her partner and friend. He seemed very happy and content. It was a rare occasion to have seem him this way, but the more she thought about it, he'd seemed that way for a while now. "She must be very special," she said. "You seem very happy."

"I am," he replied with a smile.

"So, when do we get to meet her? Or...do you still believe we will somehow jinx the relationship?"

"Uh...well, I was joking about that, of course, Ziva. There's no such thing as a jinx."

"Of course there is, McGee," she defended.

"Even so... I'd love for you all to meet her, and for her to meet you all, of course. Maybe we can all go out to dinner sometime this week. I'll talk to her tonight about it."

11 111 11 111 11 111 11 111 11

"Help me to turn him so that we may have a look at his back, Jimmy," Ducky told his assistant. The two men readied themselves on either side of the cold table and slowly tipped the body on its side.

"Scratch marks," Palmer said when he saw the bright lines across his skin.

"Yes, I see. What do you make of them?" he looked up at the young man, already having an idea in mind himself, but wanting to see if his assistant could come to the same conclusion.

"Well," Jimmy began, but his face reddened a little.

"Well, what, Mr. Palmer?" Ducky pushed.

"Well...I had a girlfriend a while back who uh...well, what I mean to say is...she would leave scratch marks like this during...intercourse..."

Ducky gave a small grin, "Precisely. And well done, Jimmy." The assistant wasn't sure whether he meant the discovery, or the fact that he'd made a girl scratch down his back. So his face showed a mixture of confusion and pride. "Let's set him back down," Ducky said. "The scratches are fairly recent, which could imply they were done quite soon before his unfortunate demise. Perhaps there will be some DNA under his own fingernails that could lead us to whom he was with." The body was on its back again and Dr. Mallard grabbed a small scraping tool and lifting the Marine's hand to begin scrapping under the nails. "A specimen jar, if you please."

"Got it," Jimmy replied where he stood at his side, prepared. Ducky turned and placed the specimen in the jar.

"Straight up to Abby, then," he told him.

"Yes, Doctor," Jimmy screwed the top on and headed out of autopsy.

"Well, my dear boy," Ducky said to the dead Marine, "At least your final moments were enjoyable, or so it would seem. For someone else, however, it would be obvious to conclude that it wasn't nearly as entertaining."

"What do ya got for me, Duck?" Gibbs asked as he strolled in toward the older M.E.

"Ah, Jethro...well not much more than I've already surmised at the scene. Time of death was indeed between ten and twelve hours ago. The Lieutenant was strangled to death and by the look of the bruising around his neck, I'd have to conclude that it was a male attacker."

"Was there reason to suspect it was a woman?" Gibbs raised his brows as he stood on the other side of the cold table.

"Mr. Palmer and I discovered scratch marks down this man's back. Not deep enough to draw blood; most likely done in the throes of passion. I've got some possible DNA from under his fingernails being sent up to Abby for analysis."

"So the scratches are recent," Gibbs surmised.

"Quite. And yes, Jethro, I do believe they were done by a woman," he smirked. Gibbs cocked his head and gave him an amused look. "Unless you'd like to believe whatever man he may have been with, had a french manicure."

"Lift any prints?" Jethro asked with a small smirk still evident on his face from the doctor's words.

"None. In fact, it would seem he was wiped down. Almost looks like his might have taken a shower, except that his hair seems a bit greasy and unwashed. And I wouldn't have been able to pull anything from his nails, had that been the case. Whoever did this, planned it; however hastily. And from the lack of self-defense wounds, I'd say he knew his attacker and most likely had been sleeping when it began."

"Could've said that much from the fact we found him in his bed, Duck."

Ducky laughed quietly through his nose, "Well, as we can clearly see, beds are not solely for sleeping, Gibbs."

"Have you had a chance to do a psych profile?" he asked.

"I've barely finished the autopsy," he defended.

Gibbs turned and began his departure, "Thanks, Duck. Lemme know when you've got more for me."

Ducky sighed and turned back to the body before him. "Impatience is most definitely not always a virtue. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Smith?"

11 111 11 111 11 111 11

Abigail Sciuto slid the prepared DNA sample into the mass spectrometer for analysis as she lightly danced to the blaring heavy metal music that filled her lab. She then turned to the evidence table and began systematically closing the bags and writing on each one as she went. She was startled when the music suddenly stopped and she looked up to see Gibbs as he approached her.

"Hey, Gibbs," she smiled. "I don't have anything for you, yet. Why are you here?"

"Apparently, for nothing," he said as he gripped a large Caf-Pow in his hands.

She eyed it, greedily, before meeting his eyes, "I might be able to find something faster if I had a boost," she grinned and narrowed her eyes.

He smirked and raised a brow, "You didn't find anything?"

"Well, I didn't find any prints that didn't belong to Lieutenant Smith," she replied as she shifted through the bags. "There's an empty condom wrapper, but no used condom found at the scene. Which, I guess, is kind of unusual. His prints were on the wrapper, so I assume it was for him."

"Might've flushed it," Gibbs suggested.

"Maybe. But, ew," she made a face. "Ducky found some DNA under Smith's nails and I'm running it through the mass-spec now. It could be a while."

"How long?"

"I can't guess these things, Gibbs. It depends on the quality of the sample. And before you argue with me, no, I can't magically speed up the process. My babies need time to do their job. You can't bribe them with delicious, caffeinated, carbonated beverages..." she eyed the cup again. He smirked and handed it to her. "Thanks, Bossman," she smiled and took a long sip.

"Call me when your babies find somethin'," he said as he departed.

11 111 11 111 11 111 11

"I can't believe you've managed to keep Kendra a secret all this time," Tony told Tim as his chair spun to face him.

"Is it really so hard to believe?" he asked.

"Guess I'm just surprised you never get any calls at work."

"She works almost as much as I do, Tony. And we have an understanding about calls. We meet for lunch as much as possible, though."

"Which isn't very often," Tony reminded him.

"I'm aware," he retorted. "We make up for it by spending most of our free time together," a soft smile appeared on his face as he continued to look at his screen and work.

"Maybe that's why she's still around," Tony joked. "She hasn't spent much time with ya."

"Are you trying to be a douche-bag? Or can you even help it, anymore?" Tim glared at him.

"I do not think he can help it," Ziva interjected. "I think it is very sweet that you have found a nice woman, McGee. You deserve it."

"Thank you, Ziva," he smiled at her, briefly, before returning to his work.

"Sit-rep," came a growl as Gibbs entered the bullpen. All three agents stood and went to the screen, Tony grabbing the remote to give his report first.

Pulling up the Marine's military ID on the screen, he began, "Lieutenant Jamie Smith, twenty-seven. Joined the corp five years ago. Served a tour in Iraq twice; both times with the same team."

Tim took the remote and brought up a picture of the team, "Three other Lieutenants; Gregory Chester, Jennifer Casting-Chester and Mark Howell."

"Husband and wife on the same team?" Gibbs asked for confirmation.

"They were married two years ago, in between tours," McGee stated. "They're apparently able to keep personal and professional separated to the point they received approval to continue to be on the same team."

"Any altercations within the team?" Gibbs asked.

"It would seem they all get along very well," Ziva replied. "I have contacted Lieutenant Howell who agreed to come in for questioning. Neither of the Chesters are answering my calls."

"Keep tryin' them," Gibbs said, then his desk phone rang and he moved to answer. "Yeah. Gibbs." He paused to listen to the voice on the other line. "Be right down," he hung up. "Abby's got somethin'. DiNozzo, McGee, with me. Ziva, keep tryin' to call."

11 111 11 111 11 111 11 111 11

"DNA came through faster than I thought," Abby told the team. "I ran it through the system and got a match almost immediately because she's in the military database." She pulled up the image on screen.

"Jennifer Casting-Chester," Gibbs confirmed.

"Yep," Abby replied. "Served in Iraq with Smith."

"Did a lot more than that, apparently," Tony chimed in. "No wonder they're not answering."

"Husband musta walked in and caught them together," Gibbs said.

"Then strangled Smith," McGee surmised. "Hopefully we're not looking for another body, as well," he considered the possibility.

"That's good work, Abs," he said as he turned to leave the lab. "DiNozzo, take McGee and go pick up the Chesters. You got an address?"

"Yeah, Boss," McGee answered.

"What makes you think they're actually gonna be home?" Tony queried. "They could be halfway to China by now."

"Doubt they'd run," Gibbs replied as they entered the elevator. "He cleaned up after himself, so he might think we've got nothing on him. And unless he's holdin' his wife hostage, she's an accessory. If you don't find 'em home, stake the place out till they return."

11 111 11 111 11 111 11

Tbc