"So, you've been distracted lately," Doctor McNeil mused, eyeing Morgan who'd come in for her regular appointment looking slightly uneasy. "It's not often I have Gibbs informing me about his concerns regarding you."

Morgan's frown deepened. "He reported me?"

McNeil rolled her eyes. "He mentioned that you've been more distracted on the last few cases in passing. We simply bumped into one another in the elevator and he told me that before walking right out. You should be happy he noticed and said something."

"No, because it means I've been too obviously bothered. If he's said something it's because I'm doing something detrimental—"

"Or it's because he cares, Morgan. Not everything is going to be you doing something wrong, you know. I understand that your experience in the army may make you think otherwise but they are the ones who did you wrong, not the other way around."

Morgan huffed, sinking deeper into the chair and folding her arms over her chest in mild annoyance.

"Now then, does your recent distraction and increase in finding faults in yourself have anything to do with the case you had regarding the terrorist, Sharif?"

Morgan immediately glared at her. "If you already know, then why are you asking?"

"Because it's my job as your psychiatrist to ensure you know what's bothering you and that you're capable of admitting it to yourself. So, tell me what's bothering you about it."

"He got away," Morgan stated simply. "I had my sights on him and he got away from me and is now running loose in the US somewhere planning more terrorist bombings."

"Yes, but according to the mission reports, that was unavoidable, was it not?"

"No," Morgan argued. "If I had gone after him the moment I saw him—"

"There was a bomb in play," McNeil countered.

"And Abby proved that the only way to set it off would be if the timer ran out or Abraham did something stupid."

"But you didn't know that at the time," McNeil pointed out. "Morgan, it's okay to admit that you held off pursuing that criminal because you were concerned about your team's safety."

"Not catching him has put the lives of everyone in the US at stake," Morgan bit out, the frustration of her warring emotions plain on her face. "I let him get away when everyone was safe!"

"You didn't know they were safe, Morgan," McNeil countered, understanding her problem. "You were worried your team was at risk if you pursued. You held back to keep them all safe and that's okay."

"It's not okay!" Morgan argued, standing up abruptly and beginning to pace as she dragged her hand through her hair. "If he goes off and bombs someplace, that will be on me. On my head. People will find out. They always find out and then what? They'll come after me. I'll be kicked out again, if not worse, and then—"

"Morgan."

Morgan stopped in place clenching her eyes shut and bringing a hand to her face as she hunched her shoulders. McNeil moved to her side and lightly placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the contact but didn't pull away and McNeil squeezed slightly.

"Why are you so against building relations with your team?" She asked quietly. "This is far more than just the case with Sharif. Having people you care about might be a risk in this kind of work but that doesn't mean isolating yourself is the answer. Being scared of losing people you're close to is normal and as much as we would all love to keep them hidden away from danger, we can't. And we can't hide ourselves away from them either. All we can do is do our best to keep them safe, otherwise, we're just running away."

Morgan lowered her hand and nodded, allowing McNeil to pull her hand away and step back, watching her cautiously for any more signs of distress.

"What else is going on, Morgan?" McNeil asked quietly and Morgan's gaze drifted away.

"It's… the anniversary," she muttered.

"Of when you were taken…"

Morgan nodded, a small shudder rolling through her to try and soothe the aches and pains that had been persisting all day after the nightmare she'd had. McNeil knew that she would be wound up, on edge, and distracted all day.

"Why didn't you request time off?" She questioned. "The Director would understand and… you haven't visited them yet, have you?"

Morgan shook her head, knowing the trip to the cemetery would have to be done at some point. She might have been taken by Al-Qaeda, but her team had been ambushed and two newer recruits had died in the firefight that had occurred in the process. As their squad leader, she held guilt over their deaths as well. Constantly questioning why she hadn't trained them better, how she should have protected them and gotten them out of there even if she was injured. Nothing could have prepared anyone for what had happened though, and she was still struggling to believe that even now. The least she could do was pay her respects and silently beg for forgiveness at their graves.

"You should go request today off," McNeil pressed, lightly leading her toward the door. "I can talk to the Director if it will help but—"

"I don't want to be at home," Morgan admitted, stopping her. "I just… I need a distraction. If I go home, I don't…"

It was a bad day. One of the worst days and begrudgingly, McNeil gave in. She didn't want to think of what Morgan might turn to on a day like this if she were alone. She hadn't shown anything too concerning—no drugs or alcohol addictions, no violent forms of self-harm—but there was a lot Morgan didn't say, even to her, and being around her team might help.

"Okay," she replied, reaching for the door and giving Morgan one last look of concern. "Then, I do hope you will at least let your team be aware that you might need their support and you have my number if anything comes up."

Morgan nodded solemnly and stepped out, dragging a hand through her hair and heading to her desk where Russell was quick to greet her with a small whine. Tony and Ziva had been going through McGee's new book but Ziva paused at Russell's fussing, giving Morgan a glance.

"You okay?"

Tony too, glanced up. "Bad session?"

"Just… not a good day, is all," Morgan admitted, pulling out an energy drink from her desk drawer before spotting the identical books they were holding. "What's with the book?"

"It's McGee's new novel," Tony hummed. "You haven't gotten it?"

Morgan's brows furrowed before she pulled out another drawer and lifted up the same book from inside it. "I thought someone misplaced it. Didn't know I was supposed to read it."

Tony snorted. "McGee will be devastated. You finished it yet, Ziva?"

"Halfway," she chimed. "You?"

"I'm on chapter seven page 103. 'Maybe someday Lisa would find the courage to tell Agent Tommy about her dream,'" he read. " 'The two of them together, their bodies covered in sweat as they made love on the crystal white sands of her homeland."

"I'm going to kill him," Ziva bit out as Morgan watched in confusion and Gibbs stepped in.

"Kill who?"

"McGee. Have you read this book?"

Tony smirked at Gibbs. "Apparently, McGee thinks Ziva's in love with me."

"There's a reason they call it fiction, Dinozzo," Gibbs reminded him as Morgan hummed in understanding.

"You think the characters are based on you. Got it."

"Yeah, you got lucky," Tony informed her. "He wrote it before you were on the team so you're not in it."

Morgan shrugged, not caring either way, and she dropped the book back into her desk as McGee stepped into the bullpen.

"Boss, just got a call from dispatch. Construction crew found a dead body."

"Where?"

"Chesty Puller High School in Quantico."

"Student?"

"Uh… not sure," McGee admitted.

"Take the truck. We'll meet you there. Frost, with me."

"Yes, sir," she said, earning a look from him before she corrected herself. "Boss."

The two stepped out and Morgan immediately knew there was going to be some sort of discussion on the way to the scene. She'd slipped up and he would undoubtedly question it. Russell could tell she was tense too and kept his head on her lap once they were on the way. Gibbs was silent though and after a moment, Morgan couldn't stand it any longer.

"You're not going to ask?"

Gibbs glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "About what?"

Morgan frowned. "You told my psychiatrist I was distracted on cases."

"Because you were," he confirmed. "I just figured she should know to help you through it. You're not usually off."

"But you're not going to ask."

He shrugged. "Would you tell me if I did?"

Her frown deepened, silently questioning herself as to whether she would or not before turning away. "If you ordered me to, I would."

"I'm your boss, not your commanding officer."

"And I snooped into your past and you let me get away with it," she countered, still holding onto some guilt for that incident despite how good her intentions were. "So, it would make sense if you just—"

"Do you take me for that kind of person, Morgan?"

She closed her mouth, pursing her lips, knowing he wasn't but just wishing he would be forward about things. "Sorry," she grumbled.

"Don't apologize," he reminded her. "It's a sign of weakness."

She knew that and very rarely apologized but she felt it was needed in this case. She'd insulted him as a person for no reason other than her current feelings of frustration. Maybe I should have taken the day off. She turned her gaze back out the window and Gibbs glanced at her as they pulled up to the scene. He knew something was going on and given how volatile she was, it was something big. Perhaps, this was an opportunity—something he could do to get closer and something that would help her out.

"Do you… want to go out for drinks later?" He asked as nonchalantly as possible, drawing her attention. "After the case. Talk… if you want."

For a moment, her expression softened into something sad, making his chest go tight before the emotions were once again tucked away as she opened the car door.

"I have something to do after," she said, quietly rejecting his offer before pausing once she was out. "But… maybe after that."

Relief filled Gibbs's gut and he nodded as he closed the car door. "Okay. Whatever you want. We'll work out a time later."

She nodded and headed for the building as Gibbs did the same, both taking that short amount of time to sober up from their conversation and get back to work.

Ziva and Tony took pictures of the crime scene while Morgan had Russell wait by the door; concerned about how the soot in the building would affect his sensitive nose. Instead of having him sniffing around the scene for clues, she was bagging and tagging anything that could be evidence once it was photographed.

"We've pulled rats, cats, and birds out of chimneys before, Agent Gibbs. Hell, one time even a Saint Bernard. But this is my first mummy," Larson said, the man who was in charge of the team who'd discovered the body. "Reminds me of that urban legend."

"Which one?" Gibbs questioned, squatting down to eye the grey, soot-covered body and idly glancing at Morgan in the process.

She still didn't look like her normal self but there was no helping it until he found out what it was that had her distracted. He originally thought it was her not being able to catch Sharif a few cases back but that didn't feel like everything. Just gotta be patient.

"Guy dresses up like Santa, you know, for Christmas Eve to surprise his girlfriend," Larson explained. "But he never shows. She's convinced that the bastard dumped her. Badmouths him all over town."

"Until they find the poor soul's body months later," Ducky replied as he came downstairs to check on the body. "Still clutching the little box with her shiny new engagement ring. And the moral, of course, is—"

"It's never a good idea to get married," Gibbs finished, earning a smile from Ducky and a snort from Morgan.

"No, it's best not to judge someone until all the facts are in."

"I like mine better. Any of your crew touch or move Kris Kringle?" Gibbs asked Larson who shook his head.

"Oh, most of them were halfway to Manassas before the dust even settled."

"No ID," Morgan said, having carefully searched the victim's pockets as Tony nodded in agreement.

"Judging by what's left of the mullet, I think it's safe to say he wasn't in the military."

"You think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs replied, turning to Ducky. "I need a TOD, Doctor."

"Considering we've been working together for over ten years, I am well aware of that, Agent Gibbs," Ducky chimed back and Gibbs turned to Tony.

"Dinozzo, when he gets one, run it through missing persons over the same time period."

"I would extend it by a bit though," Morgan chimed, drawing attention to her before she looked over at Ducky a little awkwardly. "Not to intrude on your timing but if he's been stuck up in a chimney, couldn't the heat and smoke sort of… cook him?"

Ducky hummed. "Yes, much like a smoked piece of meat, that is entirely possible. If so, we'll need to get a more accurate time of death back at the lab, Gibbs."

"Get an estimate first so we can start looking."

"But the time of death could be off by months, even years, Jethro."

"I'm going to need something, Doc," he chimed starting toward the stairs as Tony stopped him.

"Where are you going, boss?"

"To the roof to figure out how he ended up there in the first place." Gibbs paused on the steps as McGee started heading down with an ice pack pressed to his neck. "What happened to you?"

"Uh… creative differences with my coworkers, boss."

"A lot of that going around these days," he chimed, leaving as Ziva turned to Ducky.

"Don't you think it's about time you and Gibbs made up, Ducky?"

"They're fighting?" Morgan questioned, having not noticed as Ducky repeated the same sentiment, though he knew he was purposefully being difficult.

"Come on, ever since he retired—" Tony started, only for Ducky to cut him off.

"Gibbs didn't retire, he quit."

"Okay, so he quit. But he's back now," Tony said a little more cautiously.

"You need to cut the man some slacks, Ducky," Ziva agreed.

"I agree," Tony said. "Except the term is slack. Even Morgan forgave him and he forgot about her completely."

Morgan shot him a dirty look. "And he only remembered because I was shot. There's a difference between forgiveness and accepting that there was nothing to be done."

Ducky took that chance to bring the team back to the case at hand. "Judging by the decay and the condition of his skin, I tentatively place the time of death at two to four months ago. However, as Morgan said, with the soot and not having an idea of what's lying underneath, the time frame could be extended significantly."

"Works for me," Tony said, as Morgan got up.

"I'll let Gibbs know. I'm probably of more help on the roof. Rus, come on."

Russell happily bounded over to her side as she climbed the stairs and Tony turned to McGee.

"Bag and tag the ashes, probie. We'll pick you up after we coordinate with the MPs."

McGee was not looking forward to that ride.

"None of the local missing person reports match our John Doe's description, Tony. And there's no record of anyone going missing on base, civilian or military during that period," Ziva complained as she scanned through the missing posters on her computer. "Are you even listening to me?"

Tony wasn't, holding up McGee's book. "I'm getting close to the end, Ziva. You know, McGee is really starting to nail your essence here," he said, starting to read from the book as Ziva got up to move behind him. " 'Stakeouts. Long endless hours fueled by cheap food and even cheaper coffee. But tonight, Mossad Officer Lisa didn't seem to mind because she was getting to spend it with Agent Tom—'" He stopped when he lowered the book and she wasn't at her desk. "You're behind me again, aren't you?"

"Lucky guess," Ziva hummed, shoving him forward to pin him against his desk. "You know, I think McGee's right."

"He was, was he?" Tony questioned.

"It takes almost all of my willpower to resist the urges I have when I'm around you, Tony. Maybe it's about time to just give in, yes?" She said, drawing his gaze.

"And by 'give in,' you mean…"

"Letting loose."

"Ah."

"Doing what comes naturally to me."

"Yeah, I thought I was picking up that vibe the first time we went undercover together," Tony admitted.

"You were?"

"Uh-huh."

"In fact, I almost did it the first night in the hotel room."

"Hm, really."

"But my father wouldn't approve."

"Because I'm not Jewish?"

"Because he gets very angry when I kill a co-worker."

Tony laughed, understanding now. "Like I believed you for even a second!"

"I'm sure you didn't."

"Are you two done playing grab-ass?" Gibbs asked as he and Morgan stepped into the bullpen.

"Oh, he started it," Ziva huffed, moving back to her desk.

"I'm ending it," Gibbs replied shortly, taking Tony's book. "The next person who mentions this book will be deep-sixed by me."

"I can completely live with that, boss," Tony said as Morgan lifted up her book.

"You want mine? I've not read it."

Gibbs took hers as well and tossed it into the growing pile of books behind his desk. "You ID our victim yet?"

"We're running him against missing person cases reported over the last six months, Gibbs," Ziva informed him.

"No hits yet," Tony added as Morgan spoke up.

"I told you to extend the time frame. Has anyone checked with Ducky yet?"

"No need," said man replied, having come up to the bullpen himself. "I do believe I can elaborate on that some more downstairs."

The group got up to join him down in autopsy where he wheeled out the body once more.

"As you will see, his body is almost perfectly preserved. Perfectly reserved for a rotted corpse, that is."

"The guy looks like a piece of beef jerky, Duck," Tony commented as Morgan nodded.

"He's been smoked."

Ducky nodded. "Yes, he has. Gum tissue rots faster than the outer flesh due to the high degree of bacteria inside the mouth. As you can see, his gums are almost intact."

"Maybe he was just a good flosser?" Tony joked before seeing the look on Gibbs's face. "Shutting it, boss."

"How'd he die?" Gibbs asked.

"Well, the how I'm still working on. It's made particularly difficult by the means by which his body was preserved. He was quite literally smoked inside that chimney, as Morgan suggested. It's the reason why my time of death was so far off."

"More than two to four months, Ducky?" Ziva asked.

"It would seem so."

"How many?" Gibbs questioned.

"I would say we're looking at closer to five or six."

Gibbs cracked a smile. "Ah, don't be so rough on yourself, Doctor. We're already running the past six months."

"Years," Morgan muttered, stopping him as she looked at Ducky. "You're talking years, aren't you?"

"Yes. Five to six years."

"Bit more of a range then," Morgan grumbled. "Thanks, Ducky."

"Of course," Ducky replied as Gibbs headed for Abby's lab and told Tony and Ziva to start looking in the new time frame.

"Are you two actually fighting?" Morgan asked him on the way to Abby and Gibbs sighed.

"Who knows."

"What the hell is this?" McGee said as they entered and Gibbs headed over.

"I was wondering that myself."

"We've got two matching fingerprints from the victim, and AFIS just kicked us out. And now they're deleting the file!" Abby explained as Morgan frowned.

"How?"

"Working on it," McGee said as Abby huffed.

"It looks like some agency doesn't want us to know who the mummy is, Gibbs."

"Can you trace it back?" Morgan offered.

"I can try. Might take all night though."

"Then, get to it, McGee," Gibbs ordered, gesturing for Morgan to head back up with him.

Already she looked drained and given there wasn't much for them to do on the case other than scour missing persons or wait for McGee and Abby to track the source of the hack, Gibbs figured an early day wouldn't hurt.

"Head home, Morgan."

"What?" She questioned, quickly looking almost offended by the suggestion.

"You said you had somewhere to be, didn't you?" He reminded her, catching the smallest of flinches as she glanced away. "Go. There's nothing we can do but wait for now anyway. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow, okay?"

She went to say something as the elevator doors opened but Gibbs waved her off.

"We can get drinks after the case. There's no rush. Take care of yourself first."

Slowly, she nodded and went to grab her things to leave for the cemetery hoping that things would be better tomorrow.

Things hadn't gone much better for Morgan, unfortunately. After her trip to the cemetery, she'd gone home and straight to bed only to wake up far earlier than expected because of nightmares. She knew they would last the rest of the week at minimum and in order to quell the aches and pains caused by the memories, she went out for a run. It had still been dark given how early it was and she moved to a small park to let Russell go to the bathroom and have a sniff around. This turned into a mistake. Thanks to her already distracted mind stuck in her past and Russell being a short distance away, neither was prepared for the man who hurried up and attacked her.

Thankfully, she was quick to react and when Russell came charging back and grabbed a hold of the man's ankle, he was quickly subdued. She called the police, made a statement, and got checked out at the hospital. The man was a local homeless with known mental disabilities and she chose not to press charges so long as he was placed in an appropriate mental health facility. Still, it left her late for work, sporting bandages around her knuckles—fractured in the scuffle—and more exhausted than before. It really just wasn't her day.

"You're late," Gibbs grumbled when Morgan stepped in but he quickly saw her exhaustion and the bandages and stiffened. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I'm fine," Morgan muttered, dropping her backpack behind her desk as Russell stuck stubbornly close to her side.

"Not what I asked," Gibbs pressed as she sat down and he turned his attention away from the missing posters he'd been going through.

Knowing he wasn't going to let up, Morgan frowned and dragged her uninjured hand through her hair.

"I was attacked by a local homeless with schizophrenia on my morning jog. It's fine. I just fractured my hand."

"Just fractured your hand?" He questioned, glancing at Russell. "Where was he?"

"A few feet away going to the bathroom," Morgan replied, sending Russell to his bed so the dog would stop hovering by her hip. "The guy who attacked me is being held until they can move him to a mental facility. And no, I'm not pressing charges. Have we gotten anywhere on the case?"

He eyed her a moment longer but dropped the subject. She'd been caught off her guard and he could tell she was already beating herself up about it. There was no need for him to scold her further, though he would certainly keep an eye on her today.

"Not yet. There are too many missing people matching our vague description of the victim. We're waiting on—"

"Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!" Abby called, bounding into the bullpen with a huge grin stretched over her face. "I did it!"

"What? You mean 'we,'" McGee argued, coming in behind her.

"There's no 'we' in McGee," she said, turning back to Gibbs. "I traced the connection back to the system that deleted the fingerprint patch."

"It's a government server in Arlington, Virginia," McGee said as Abby continued, but Gibbs had spotted the elevator opening and the people stepping out.

"Routed into AFIS, directly at the source."

"Our mystery hacker is—"

"The FBI," Gibbs finished for Abby and McGee, surprising her.

"Uh… yeah. Sounds a little anti-climatic when you say it."

"How did you know that?" McGee asked, but Morgan had spotted them too.

"Because they just walked in," she chimed as Agent Fornell stepped into the middle of the group to face Gibbs with Sacks right behind him.

"You've got something that belongs to me, Gibbs."

"Come on," Gibbs hummed, nodding toward the elevator. "Keep checking the missing people," he ordered Ziva and Morgan, who both nodded and he shooed McGee and Abby back downstairs as well.

When he, Sacks, and Fornell made it to autopsy they stepped in to find Ducky making a new discovery: a toe within the man's stomach. Being a friend of Gibbs's Fornell was at least willing to explain some of what was going on since this was now showing the potential to be a case they were both going to deal with.

The victim was a serial killer the FBI had been trying to track for twelve years. They'd killed fourteen women, drugged them, strangled them, and left them to rot in rural interstate highways. Every one had missing toes on their left foot as well, explaining the toe Ducky had found in their stomach. The fun part was, the FBI didn't know what the serial killer looked like. All they had was a hair sample and two partial prints. The killer coming up dead was unexpected and despite some pushback from Fornell, Gibbs secured the case as his for now. The added bonus was the first glimpse of the killer's actual face thanks to Abby and McGee using a computer program to rehydrate photos of the body.

"I've got an eighty-six percent match on a Charles Bright, reported missing from Dale City, five years, seven months ago," McGee informed them when they put the image through the system and Fornell glanced at Gibbs.

"Our profiler was convinced he'd have at least one body buried near his home."

"Why?" Abby asked and Gibbs explained.

"Something for him to gloat over, Abs. Relive the rush any time he wanted to."

"That's good, Gibbs," Fornell praised. "We need an address."

A quick lookup of his photo ID gave them what they needed and Gibbs eyed what came up.

"Is that address still good?"

"Uh, wife still lives there. Karen Bright. She's the one who reported him missing," McGee informed him as he wrote it down and passed the note to Fornell.

"There you go, Fornell."

"You're turning the case over?" Fornell questioned, making Gibbs smirk.

"No. I just want you to get my search warrant for me. Besides, I've got a sniffer dog that'll get there faster than yours can."

It didn't take long to get the warrant and Gibbs and Fornell went up to break the news that they found the husband of the woman living there while the rest of the team spread out in the yard to search for bodies.

"Sorry about that, Jethro," Fornell apologized given he'd froze at the front door and Gibbs had to break the news. "She could have been a twin to some of his victims."

"The loving husband murdering and eating women who look like his wife. It'll probably be McGee's next best seller," Gibbs muttered, flipping through the photos of the victims as they moved into the yard.

"It amazes me how the truly sick ones are always the best-liked. Pillars of the community."

"They're successful because they blend in, Tobias. They go to church, they coach Little League baseball."

"I was on the team that nailed Bundy, Gibbs. And I'm familiar with sick, charming bastards."

Gibbs cracked a smile. "That's probably why we get along so well."

There was a bark then and Gibbs turned his sights on Morgan as she headed over to where Russell was lying down.

"Sounds like we got one," he mused, drawing Fornell's gaze.

"That your sniffer dog? She looks nice."

Gibbs rolled his eyes as they approached. "Careful, Fornell. She bites. Besides, she's one of mine."

Fornell raised a brow in surprise. "Then, I'm surprised you haven't sunk your own teeth in. Playing the long game, Gibbs?"

"She's a tough nut to crack. You know I like a challenge," he replied, calling out. "What do you got, Frost?"

"At least one here," she said, gesturing for Tony to come over with the crime scene markers as she moved Russell back and praised him with a bit of tug.

"At least?" Fornell questioned and she hesitated, glancing at Gibbs before nodding.

"He's sort of getting distracted by other scents. It could be nothing but with how he's starting to alert other places… I don't think there's just one victim buried here."

"How many?"

She shrugged. "Won't know until we go through the property again. I just did a general sweep of the place. If we took our time searching the property in a grid pattern, there's a higher chance of him finding more victims."

"How long will it take?" Gibbs asked, making her hum.

"Mm, depending on how many and whether I have people to confirm as I continue… few hours? More if depending on the number of victims, Russell in general, and if I'm confirming on my own. Having a team behind me means I'd be able to keep searching while they confirm if there's something in the location."

Gibbs glanced at Fornell who nodded.

"I'll get my guys out here."

"Good. Frost, you're in charge."

Morgan was a little surprised by that but bobbed her head in agreement, knowing it was because Gibbs didn't want the FBI taking lead on the case. Once Fornell stepped away though, he spoke to her on her own.

"You shouldn't have any issues with them but if you do, give me a call and I'll get it sorted," he said before nodding to her wrist. "And take it easy. Let me know if you need anything and I'll have Ziva bring it for you but I don't need you going off and making things worse for yourself, okay?"

Morgan looked a little annoyed by his coddling but nodded. "I have some medication in my bag for the pain and would appreciate one of my energy drinks if you could. I had a… rough night."

"Sure thing," he said simply, giving Russell a pet. "Keep up the good work, Rus."

The dog happily wagged his stumpy tail and Gibbs headed off to send the team back for now. Here's hoping he'd get good news once the group was caught up with information on the suspect they'd discovered.

Good news didn't take long to arrive. The team was soon back at the suspect's home after having found little to tie him to where he was found. While he was a building inspector for the DOD and looking into structures at Quantico, there was no car on scene. There was something else going on here that Gibbs was missing and he didn't like loose ends.

Returning to the backyard though, had proven useful since Russell had pointed out three more bodies in addition to the first one he'd found. Morgan had already called Ducky in to check them out and while she took a well-deserved break, the rest of the team worked the scene. The FBI still scoured the yard just in case, covering every inch of soil they could, and Gibbs headed inside to try and get more answers from Karen—the wife.

Things weren't going well with her though. She insisted her husband was a good man and her children were more than fed up with them being around. Gibbs's questions about how her husband got to Quantico weren't really answered since he was supposed to call when he got to his hotel in Little Creek and never did. She didn't care about the bodies in the yard or much else as far as proof went so he let her be and headed back over to Fornell.

"Stashing four bodies in the yard… That's more than just gloating, Gibbs," Fornell muttered.

"Well, they could be his first kills," Gibbs suggested as Morgan walked in a little hesitantly.

Her gaze drifted to the grieving wife but turned to him quickly. "They're finishing up. Russell found four and the FBI are just about done combing the yard. Graves aren't very deep anyway so there shouldn't be more or Russell would've found them."

She placed her hand on the dog's head, not noticing he was fixated on the wife crying quietly on the sofa.

"Did Ducky mention TOD or how they died?"

"Says he can't without actual flesh on the bodies. He's going to take a look once in the lab and hope there's something on the bones that might point to a cause of death. Otherwise, we're waiting for him to find something on the suspect's body we already found."

"You think the suspect's death wasn't an accident?" Fornell questioned and Morgan glanced at him before looking back at Gibbs, who gave a small nod to let her know it was okay to say her theory in front of him.

"No car means he didn't drive onto Quantico or he went with someone who removed the car," she explained, having been updated by the team when they'd shown up. "I can look into the hotel once we're back but a missing vehicle and him not being noticed for this long means no one checked Quantico when he first vanished. If he was working on-site—or supposed to—someone should have checked there first. I just find it odd that he seemingly fell into a chimney on a site he shouldn't have been anywhere near with no vehicle."

"You heard her," Gibbs hummed, giving Fornell a look. "Her gut's as good as mine. The second we're back, check with LEOs about the hotel, check with the victims's families, anyone who might have a grudge against him."

"I'll check with local people instead," Morgan countered. "Victims's families wouldn't have known it was him or else the FBI would've caught him by now."

Fornell grumbled low in his throat as Gibbs snorted in amusement. Morgan shot him a look but started to head off, having to get Russell's attention and only then glancing up at the woman crying on the sofa. She wasn't facing them so Morgan couldn't see her face but given she had to give Russell's collar a small tug to get him moving, she had a bad feeling about her. I'll have to look into the wife too.

Morgan stepped into the bullpen the next morning with a yawn, dragging her hand through her hair tiredly and dropping down at her desk with a heavy sigh.

"Bad night?" Ziva asked as she grunted.

"Bad week," she replied, pulling out an energy drink and giving Tony a glance as he hummed happily to himself. "Someone got laid."

He sputtered immediately as Ziva laughed from behind him, having said the same thing when she'd spotted his good mood.

"Told you! It's okay to admit it. I mean, we're all adults here."

"That's a subject I'd be willing to debate, Officer David," Fornell said as he walked in, drawing their attention. "Where's Gibbs?"

"Well, he must have known you were coming because he's not here," Tony said cautiously as Fornell made for Gibbs's desk only to pause in front of the chair.

Russell had made his home at the foot of Gibbs's desk apparently.

"It was really more of a courtesy call, Dinozzo," Fornell said, trying not to be intimidated by the dog but when he took a step toward the chair, Russell got up and firmly placed himself in front of it.

Fornell wouldn't be sitting at this desk.

"I was just letting him know about these orders from Justice," he continued, holding up a paper. "The ones where the F.B.I. is taking over your case. Are you sure he's not around?"

Tony glanced at Ziva before Fornell turned to Morgan.

"Does this dog move at all?"

"Only when he wants to," she answered simply, glancing at Fornell. "Or I tell him to."

"Could you tell him to?"

She snorted, cracking a smile. "No, though you're welcome to try yourself. He might listen."

Needless to say, no amount of effort on Fornell's part got Russell to move and it wasn't until Tony got a hold of Gibbs that the FBI agent abandoned his attempts and headed to the Director's office for a meeting. His attempts to get the case signed over to him failed as well, thanks in part to Morgan's suspicions regarding their suspect's death. Ducky had taken yet another look at the body and found he'd been stabbed repeatedly with something akin to a screwdriver. His death on a military base made the case NCIS jurisdiction. The only downside now, was that the team had mixed feelings about catching a serial killer's murderer.

"I've seen a lot of things since I became a cop, Ziva. But this? Guy tortures and murders nineteen women, and then gets off on eating their toes? Whoever whacked this sick freak did us and the world a favor," Tony muttered, flicking through the images of the victims as Ziva hummed.

"And our job is to arrest them. It makes perfect sense to me."

"Justified or not, it's still a crime, Ziva," McGee reminded her as he put some paperwork on Gibbs's desk. "In this country, you cannot take the law into your own hands."

"Unless it's your little sister wanted for murder, right, Probie?" Tony argued, given their last "case" had involved his sister.

"You know what I mean."

"We don't always get the justice we want," Morgan chimed, typing away on her computer with a mild frown. "Killing him also made his punishment quick. I'd much rather he rot for what he did."

"Frost is right," Gibbs chimed as he headed into the bullpen. "Does anybody have a problem with this?"

"No, boss," Tony said, shifting slightly. "It's just…"

"Just what, DiNozzo?"

"Some days this job really sucks."

"Yeah? Well, it's about to get worse. Ziva, you and Tony are with Sacks on this one," he said, as Sacks and Fornell stepped in before he glanced at Morgan. "Frost, you can give them what you've come up with."

"It's not much," she muttered, getting up and handing Tony a file.

"What are we doing, exactly?" Tony asked.

"Coming up with a list of people who wanted Bright dead," Gibbs confirmed, gesturing to the file. "Frost already started. Go through that list and see what you get. McGee, go check on Abby. See if she needs any help."

Fornell clipped on his visitor's badge then but flinched when Russell slipped by him.

"Running a little late today, are we, Tobias?" Gibbs commented, raising a brow at the interaction between him and Russell. "What? Afraid of the dog?"

"No," Fornell huffed. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Gibbs smirked. "Oh, only slightly more than a lot. Come on. You too, Frost."

"What?" Fornell questioned, unsure where they were headed.

"Ducky's got something for us."

They stepped into the elevator and Fornell scowled as Russell joined them; settling at Morgan's side.

"Do you bring him everywhere with you?"

Morgan glanced at him briefly. "Yes. You could just play nice, you know. He's just a dog."

She stepped out of the elevator with Russell and Fornell glanced at Gibbs.

"She doesn't like me, does she?"

Gibbs snorted, amused with the whole thing. "I think… she listens to her dog."

Fornell wrinkled his nose in annoyance but let the topic drop as they greeted Ducky and he explained what he'd found with the bones of the other victims.

"There wasn't any recoverable tissue from any of the remains. All four bodies were completely stripped to the bone."

"Yeah, I can see that, Duck. How long were they in the ground?" Gibbs questioned as Morgan frowned, eyeing them.

"Probably can't tell much, right? They weren't buried far down, no flesh or organs to check, no bugs or plants."

"Yes," Ducky agreed solemnly. "All four women could have been there for, oh, decades, or for as little as six months."

"We know it's got to be at least five years," Fornell offered but Ducky eyed him.

"Do we, Tobias?"

"Yes! Unless Bright figured out a way to climb in and out of that smoke stack."

"For what it's worth, I agree with you. But down here we deal in facts."

"There's not enough to prove it," Morgan added, dragging a hand through her hair. "If someone else killed Bright, then it's also possible he had a partner or wasn't even the killer at all."

"Are you trying to throw out my whole case?" Fornell grumbled.

"If we're going by facts, then your case would be thrown out anyway," she challenged. "We have nothing tying him to the cases with the victims except two partial prints and a bit of hair that hasn't been compared to his yet. That wouldn't be enough to sentence someone alive to jail for your serial killings much less someone dead."

"What are you thinking, Frost?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm thinking he either had a partner or was used by the killer," she said, turning her gaze back to the bodies. "These bodies could have been buried after that five-year mark. Without a positive ID on them, we can't prove it but there's still a chance. Five years is a lot of searching for missing women that match the profile but if there's a chance to match dental records, I think we might be surprised."

"Which means the killer could still be out there," Gibbs concluded.

"Potentially."

"I might be able to add to that," Ducky cut in. "I took the liberty of reviewing the profile that the FBI prepared on our serial killer eight years ago. In order to disguise his predatory nature, Bright had to be methodical, precise, cautious almost to a fault."

"Your point?" Fornell muttered, not liking where any of this was going.

"Well, if the FBI's finest couldn't get him, it makes me wonder who did?"

"He knew his killer," Gibbs concluded.

"Exactly, and whether Morgan's theory is correct or not, how else could someone get close enough to him to stab him to death with a screwdriver?"

"The school," Morgan replied. "If we cross-reference my list with those who work or went to the high school—"

"Then, we might know who was there to kill him," Gibbs finished up for her, pulling out his phone to relay the information to Tony as they slipped into the elevator.

Gibbs and Fornell stepped into the bullpen, speaking at the same time as they did.

"What have we got?"

Ziva glanced awkwardly at them for speaking in unison but answered anyway. "Um, the teaching staff's still present from five years ago. All claim not to have known Bright."

"Well, if they murder the guy and stuffed him down the chimney, that's not surprising," Fornell commented.

"Tony?" Gibbs asked as he slowly typed away with Sacks hovering over his shoulder.

"Running down a list of substitutes who used to teach back then."

"His wife's a teacher. Third grade. See if she ever worked at Puller."

"She did," Morgan chimed in, having beaten him to the punch and focusing on the wife from the start. "I checked her maiden name, Burris. She subbed for Social Studies and Western History in 2001. Social security number matches Bright's wife. You want me to go pick her up?"

Gibbs nodded. "Take Ziva with you. She can drive."

Morgan went to argue but Gibbs headed over and slid a cold energy drink across her desk; something he'd gotten when he went to get coffee with Fornell.

"Take care of yourself, Morgan," he muttered, lightly tapping her bandaged hand.

She frowned but accepted the drink and got up, getting Russell to his feet. "I'll take Rus too. He was acting a little off at the house."

Gibbs didn't like the sound of that, remembering how keen Russell's senses were with a few other criminals they'd dealt with. "Any sign of trouble—"

"I know," she replied, heading out with Ziva to go pick up the wife.

"What was that?" Ziva asked, giving Morgan a nudge once they were in the elevator.

"What was what?"

"You know what. He got you a drink and started muttering to you."

"He was telling me to be careful because of my hand," Morgan huffed, giving her a look as they exited and headed for the car. "The drink is probably because I look exhausted."

"You do but it's almost the norm for you. Gibbs doesn't get people drinks though. Well, other than Abby."

"If it keeps me focused, I don't care," Morgan brushed off as Ziva took the driver's seat.

"I'm just wondering if there's a little… you know…"

Morgan gave her a bland look and Ziva shifted a bit as they left headquarters.

"Something going on between you and Gibbs. You seriously don't see it?"

"My boss saw I had a bad night's sleep and was injured before coming to work, so he got me an energy drink to keep me working and sent you with me so I don't get hurt further," Morgan said simply and Ziva sighed.

"He really doesn't do stuff like that though. Gibbs is more likely to scold you in the elevator or smack you upside the head for sleeping on the job. Tony does it all the time and you don't see Gibbs buying him coffee."

Morgan said nothing, just turning her gaze out the window and idly petting Russell's head in her lap.

"I'm just wondering if… maybe… Gibbs might be trying to win you over," Ziva continued. "Little things like looking out for you, getting you coffee, buying you dinner, going out for drinks."

Morgan's frown deepened, remembering he'd gotten her dinner more than once—No, that was stuff he had left over after meeting with the Director and when Mann and I were working late—and that he'd also suggested going out for drinks after this case. Because I was dealing with some shit and he noticed. It doesn't mean anything.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," she muttered out loud, keeping her gaze firmly out the window.

"What if it does?" Ziva pressed, curious now because things between Morgan and Gibbs had the team already expecting some sort of development but nothing had happened because of their fight.

Morgan, however, didn't like this question. She'd never thought about relationships or considered ever being in one because she wasn't interested. The army had been her life and nothing else mattered. The difference between that and NCIS is she'd finally stepped out of her comfort zone and began to make connections with people. She began to care. Caring to the point of getting together with someone though, had never crossed her mind. Trying to think about what she would do if—say—someone admitted they liked her to that extent, was like trying to ask a blind person what an art piece looked like. She simply didn't know and a part of her almost didn't want to know. We have more important things to worry about.

Thankfully, they pulled up to the house and Morgan was the first out of the car, letting Ziva know that their conversation was done even if it did leave things a little bit tense. Morgan walked up to the door and knocked on it, waiting until Karen answered it and they could speak.

"Hello, Mrs. Bright," Ziva said with a polite smile. "I'm sure Special Agent Gibbs called ahead. I'm Agent David and this is Agent Frost. We're here to pick you up so we can ask a few questions about your husband."

"Yes, he did," she said, not looking pleased about it but not resisting either. "Whatever I can do to get this figured out. My husband wasn't a killer."

Morgan bit her tongue to prevent herself from mentioning the evidence saying he might very well be, and instead turned her gaze to Russell. He was stiff at her side and hadn't sat down like he usually would. His shoulder was pressed against her thigh and he'd shifted to be slightly in front of her. She also noticed the fur between his shoulder blades was a bit raised and was silently surprised he hadn't growled at all. She'd not seen this sort of reaction from him in a long while and slowly reached down and ran her hand up and down his neck as Ziva led Karen to the car.

The ride back was silent and Morgan continued to calmly brush her hand over Russell's head as he watched Karen from his place in the front. He couldn't see much of her over the center console but it was enough to know she was in the car for him to be on edge. His reaction had Morgan rather stiff and cautious as well, giving Ziva a pointed look before they got out. Ziva understood that there might be a threat but continued to be polite to the woman as she took over bringing her to the interrogation room and Morgan broke off to find Gibbs. When she did, he immediately knew something was up.

"What happened?" He asked, drawing Fornell's attention too.

"Russell does not like her," Morgan said, making Fornell scoff.

"What? He pee on her leg or something?"

The cold glare Morgan sent him made him hold his hands up in surrender.

"A joke, Agent Frost."

She turned away from him completely, shutting him out from their conversation as she explained to Gibbs the reaction Russell had to the woman. Raised hackles, stiff, fixated looks. It wasn't looking good for Karen and as much as Russell's hunches weren't proper evidence, they were enough to make Gibbs's gut twist uneasily.

"Get me proof, Frost," he said seriously. "Anything. The hair sample, seeing if Abby has a lead, if Ducky got the dental information. Whatever you can."

Morgan nodded and hurried to her desk as Gibbs turned to Fornell.

"We keep this going like we planned. Don't give anything away about us suspecting her."

"I know how this works, Gibbs," he grumbled, giving Morgan a brief glance as they headed to interrogation. "I'm just wondering why you put so much trust in her. Mixing work and pleasure isn't always for the best."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "We're not dating, Tobias, and even if we were, I trust her hunches. She's not let me down yet and I'm willing to bet my life that she never will."