Apologies for the lateness. Have some bad writer's block and I finally have a job again, which is nice. I'm doing my best to reread things and get back in the mood for writing but brain has been struggling. I will keep trying though this is the first/only thing I've actually been hooked back into again.

"—gan? Morgan?"

Morgan blinked, turning to McNeil as the woman eyed her in concern.

"Is everything alright?"

No. Not in the slightest, she wanted to say. I'm smoking again, the nightmares are back, everything aches and I've spent the last few weeks dealing with it while living in the guest room of my boss's house. Never mind the fact that he—The thought of the kiss made her throat go tight and she cleared it awkwardly.

"Fine. I'm… I'm fine."

McNeil didn't believe that in the slightest but there were signs of improvement. She'd had Morgan come in during her week off for an emergency session to check in after what Gibbs had called about. Today though, was going to be her first day back and McNeil wanted to make sure that her decision to sign off on her mental health was a good one.

"How is everything today?" She asked simply, not probing too deeply and hoping to keep the mood somewhat light since she would be stepping into work soon. "You seem a bit distracted."

"It's nothing," Morgan brushed off.

She'd been trying to pretend that kiss was nothing and Gibbs had been doing much the same. He'd been acting like nothing happened and while he was being friendlier, she assumed it was just how he was normally since she was staying at his place.

"You mentioned you found another apartment," McNeil hummed, wondering if that had something to do with it, though knowing that something had also happened between her and Gibbs.

Things changed when people stayed together during times of mental distress. That, and she wasn't a stranger to the rumors that had started up around the two. If anything, she thought it'd be good for them both. Still, it wasn't her place and if that was the case, then she would have to wait to see if Morgan opened up about it. She didn't doubt the woman would have hesitations.

"I move in in a few days," Morgan muttered, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "I'll head back to my place today and pack. There's… not much to do."

"I'm sure Gibbs will miss your company," McNeil added, eyeing her as she winced and looked away. "Has something happened—"

"No!" Morgan blurted out, whipping back around before flushing in embarrassment at her abrupt reaction and letting out a groan as she dropped her head into her hands.

McNeil cracked a smile, pleased that she'd been right and something had happened that wasn't a bad thing for once. "Would you like to discuss it?"

"No," Morgan grumbled. "It's nothing. It… It has to be nothing."

"Why?" McNeil pressed. "Because you want it to be nothing? Or because you don't know how to handle it?"

Morgan lifted her head with a scowl as McNeil settled her chin in her hand, eyeing Morgan with a soft sigh.

"I know you're new to relationships of any kind but have you thought that maybe whatever is happening between you and Gibbs is a good thing?"

"You've been talking to the others, haven't you?" Morgan accused, earning an eye roll from her.

"I don't need to listen to idle gossip to see that he cares about you and that you trust him with far more than anyone else. I understand that what happened has made you uneasy and his timing definitely could've been better but you need to see that this is him taking a chance. He stepped out of his comfort zone to do something a little crazy because he's worried about you, Morgan."

Morgan glanced down toward the floor, wringing her hands and suddenly missing Russell's presence at her side since she'd left him with the team to get reacquainted.

McNeil made a note and sat up a bit, closing her eyes and taking off her glasses to rub at her eyes. "Just… give it a chance. If it comes down to you absolutely hating him being overly friendly, then you can turn him down, and no harm done."

"But—"

"Yes," McNeil interrupted, giving her a sharp look. "Workplace romances are something discouraged because when they get messy, everyone tends to get dragged in but you're hardly Anthony Dinozzo. You and Gibbs both have level heads and aren't the type to bring your personal lives to work. Or if they are brought to work, they're easily resolved. He and the Director are a prime example. It can be done and, if anything, I think it would be good for you to try something new. He cares about you without making you feel insecure, right?"

Morgan didn't want to admit that she was right. Despite everything that had happened at Gibbs's house—the awkward meals, working on the boat, drinking, falling asleep and waking up in a bed, and the incident where she attacked him—it was never Gibbs who made her feel insecure. She made herself feel that way but he had supported her when she needed it. He praised her for being able to handle what was happening the way she did, even if she felt that she wasn't doing enough. However, it was because he was helping that she felt uncomfortable. She'd never had someone care in that way before in her life and she wasn't sure how to handle it.

"I… don't know what to do," she admitted and McNeil nodded.

"I assumed as much and I'm sure Gibbs understands as well. So, what I suggest you do, is take some time to try and work out how you feel about things. Even if it doesn't make sense. If Gibbs is serious, then he'll wait and be patient with you. From what I've seen, he already has just by waiting this long to do anything," McNeil hummed. "And, if at the end of everything, you're still uncomfortable then let him know. Communication is key even in a normal relationship. The difference with you two is neither of you communicate unless someone pries it out of you."

Morgan sheepishly glanced away, knowing that was accurate.

"Now, setting that aside, let me explain some of the things that the Director mentioned that you need to work on," McNeil said seriously, drawing her gaze. "Your job isn't in jeopardy yet but with what happened, the Director wants to make sure that we have some conditions in place should anything happen again."

"Would someone please give me a dollar!" Abby bellowed, drawing stunned gazes from those in the bullpen before someone came up behind her.

Morgan snatched the nougat candy bar from her hand and replaced it with a dollar, giving Russell a pet as she moved toward her desk. "Let me know if that one doesn't work. I've got a few others," she hummed, unbothered by her shouting.

"Thanks. God, it's like some kind of crime to not like nougat," Abby huffed, storming off to get a different candy bar as Morgan tore open the other one and took a bite.

"I don't even know what nougat is," Ziva muttered and Morgan went to respond before Gibbs suddenly stepped in and answered; making Morgan flinch.

"It's a cream made from sugar, honey and nuts. Grab your gear. We have an explosion at a Marine's funeral in J. Hoover National." He grabbed his sidearm from his desk and stepped up next to Morgan, giving her a once-over as she stiffened and watched him cautiously. "You good, Morgan?"

She hesitantly nodded. "Y-Yeah."

He stared for a moment but when she didn't move, he nodded toward her desk. "Gear."

"Right. Grabbing it," she sputtered out, missing the looks that the others of the team gave her as she slipped past Gibbs and grabbed her things.

"Is everyone being weird today?" Tony muttered under his breath to Ziva as Gibbs went for the elevator ahead of them.

"She did just get back from her mandatory time off," Ziva reminded him. "Maybe something happened?"

"Guess we'll find out."

The team wasn't the first on the scene at the mausoleum though and Ziva took a glance at the bomb squad with a hum.

"Last ones to the party."

"It's not really a party until the bomb squad says it is," Tony quipped as Gibbs approached the officer leaving.

"What'd you find?"

"We've got nothing. No ordnance. No residue. No electronics. No time device. No wiring. No remote. No evidence of a bomb," the man replied as Ziva countered him.

"Except for the explosion."

"You've got two employees injured. Both vets. They were taken to the V.A. with concussions and shrapnel wounds."

"You got names?" Tony asked as he pulled out a pen and notepad.

"Former Lance Corporal Lloyd Jackson, thirty-six. And PFC Kenneth Dixon, twenty-five."

"The veterans keep getting younger," Gibbs muttered.

"Yeah, the kid they were burying is only twenty-two. It's a family crypt."

"Tandem."

"His grandfather was in the back slot. Still there as far as we could tell."

"Are your men clear?"

"Bio readings are clean. Air's safe to breathe, not that I would recommend it."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah. Might want to cover your shoes."

They took a look at the mess on the man's shoes and started heading in as Morgan clicked her tongue to get Russell's attention. The dog had been eyeing the shoes and begrudgingly let the man leave unsniffed as they headed into the mausoleum. The inside was covered in visceral goo and Russell fidgetted with a soft whine as Morgan shushed him and had him settle in the hall that was clean of debris.

"That is truly appalling," Tony grumbled as he got photos of the crypt and its occupant.

"Chief Warrant Officer Mitchell Waller," McGee announced, reading the plaque that had once covered the tomb. "Died nineteen seventy-eight. He should be the one in the back of the crypt."

Ziva reached in with a pole and tapped the coffin in the back. "He appears to be undisturbed."

"He would be the only one. This is really the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. And believe me, that says a lot," Tony said with a grimace as McGee crouched to eye the goo.

"It's like porridge."

"Wait until you find out what it is," Morgan muttered, looking slightly disgusted and a little pale.

McGee went to question her but Ducky stepped in, having overheard their brief discussion.

"The word is effluvium. The results of decomposing human organs and tissue."

"This is people?" Tony questioned as Morgan nodded.

"That's why Russell is so fidgety," she pointed out, showing the dog who was lying down but eyes fixated on the goo and nose twitching as he panted eagerly. "Dropped a cadaver dog in a room covered in… cadaver."

"Two people, judging by the volume," Ducky added as Palmer took a peak in the tomb.

"And the two skulls of course."

"Palmer, we have to recover all of this," Ducky informed him, eyeing the ceiling as well.

"One Wet-Vac for the soylent green coming right up."

He stepped out as Ziva and Ducky turned on their flashlights and peered into the crypt.

"Somewhat claustrophobic and for all eternity."

"Our friends here might agree with you. They obviously needed to get out," Tony chimed as Gibbs hummed.

"They didn't belong there in the first place."

"Vents are definitely clogged," Ducky added, leaning in slightly until Ziva cautioned him.

"Be careful, Doctor. We still haven't found traces of what caused the explosion."

"They did," Morgan replied, shining her light over the goo in search of anything that might be useful in identifying the two bodies.

"Sorry?" Tony questioned, making her glance over at him.

"The bodies. They caused the explosion."

"You're joking," Ziva claimed but Ducky hummed.

"No, that certainly appears to be what happened. I didn't expect you to know about exploding casket syndrome, Morgan."

She shrugged, turning her gaze back to the goo at her feet. "Common sense, really. Decomp causes gases in the body and you trap that body in a box without air and pressure builds up."

"Exactly! All bodies contain enzymes and bacteria. Immediately upon death, they start to break down tissue," Ducky explained to the others. "Yes, a body can liquefy within a week, especially if it hasn't been embalmed. It's possible that these remains were human in appearance as recently as two weeks ago."

"And someone dumped them in here," Tony concluded.

"Yes, in such a confined space, as the gases were given off the bodies, with not any proper ventilation, the crypt itself could become a pressure cooker."

"The bodies were the bomb," Gibbs muttered as Morgan spoke up.

"I'll go check with the owners, see if they have surveillance. Give Russell a break from the smell."

Gibbs eyed her, having noticed she was looking a bit off as well, and nodded, sending her out. He knew she would be acting strangely anyway after what he'd done as well as her finally getting back to work. He just wasn't sure if there was anything he could or should do about it. Giving her space seemed for the best at the moment. Let her sort herself out and so long as it doesn't cause any unwanted issues then he'll deal with it later. It wasn't what he wanted to do but pushing her would just make things worse. Still, maybe give her a hint that I'm still interested. Might be a late night. She'll be moving out of her old place so maybe dinner? He set the thought aside for now. He could figure it out after they're done working.

"The mausoleum doesn't get many visitors, which makes it a creative place to get rid of a few bodies. But—"

"Whoever deposited them, would first have to know the portion of Chief Waller's crypt was vacant," Ziva finished off Tony's thought.

"That would suggest an inside job."

"With the knowledge to access a sealed tomb."

"Which would point to Jackson or Dixon."

"If they hadn't practically blown themselves up."

Tony had spotted McGee and Morgan not really paying attention to his rambling and decided the safer approach; questioning McGee first.

"What do you think, McGee?"

"She definitely seemed un-Abby."

"Who?" Ziva questioned, not sure of the relation of his statement to their case.

"Abby."

"Abby's unhappy?"

"People can be unhappy," Morgan muttered, scowling at her computer and tictacking away a little harder at the keys.

Tony gave her a cautious look but didn't want to poke the proverbial bear and instead kept his attention on McGee. "Abby's un-Abby. I need you to focus here, okay? Pitch in. I'll talk to her when I can."

"Why you?" McGee asked.

"Because dealing with an angry woman requires a great deal of sensitivity, clearly not an area of expertise for you."

Morgan snorted, earning a frown from Tony as McGee expressed his doubts as well.

"Well, I don't doubt that you have more experience with angry women."

Ziva cracked a smirk at that as Tony turned back to him.

"You see, now that wasn't very sensitive, was it?"

"The man has one serious relationship, and all of a sudden he is an expert," Ziva mocked him before Morgan spoke up.

"I'll talk to her."

McGee felt a little apprehensive about that, given how Morgan had also been off lately. "Um, you will?"

Morgan glanced at him. "I've got Russell. If anyone's good at dealing with upset women it's him."

Russell's tail wagged happily as the group looked at him only for Gibbs to walk up behind Tony and startle him.

"Boss. Right. Uh…" Tony clicked on the large viewing screen as he moved out of Gibbs's way. "We ran down IDs on the remains—got a hit on the woman."

"Mm, classic DiNozzo," Ziva quipped as Gibbs stepped over to Morgan's desk and dropped off an energy drink.

She stiffened when he did, glancing up awkwardly but he didn't spare her a passing glance and just went to his desk to eye the ID photo being brought up. Not that the rest of the team missed the action; all silently wondering what was going on between the two. McGee, thankfully, had enough sense to keep talking about the case.

"O-One intact fingerprint off her left hand matches a driver's license."

"Marilyn Torrance, age fifty-eight, of Tyson's Corner. There's no case file because her nephew and his wife never reported her missing," Tony explained as Gibbs turned away from the screen.

"They're on their way in," McGee said.

"Is that it?" Gibbs asked, turning to Morgan who was still scowling.

"No surveillance of the actual mausoleum. I'll have to call nearby places or at least find out if they have something in the parking lot area. That, and—" She paused as her phone rang and she reached over and picked it up. "Frost… be right there, Ducky."

She hung up and the team hastily got to their feet, hoping Ducky would at least have something for them.

"Saved by the bell," Tony breathed before they got in the elevator and headed down to find three tables laid out with bones scattered on them.

"They were dismembered," Ducky informed them all. "Likely by severing tendons, muscles from ligaments at every joint."

"Neck, shoulder, elbow, wrist, hip, knee, ankle…" Palmer stopped when the group shot him a look. "Et cetera."

"There's very little damage to the bones themselves, except the rib cages. They were cut, probably using a bone saw," Ducky continued, making Ziva frown.

"Were they murdered?"

"One of them at least was. Blunt force trauma to the female skull. A blow to the back of the head that was certainly enough to kill a woman of her age," Ducky said as he led them over to that table.

"Fourth rib phase analysis suggests that she was in her seventies," Palmer explained, making Ziva turn around.

"According to the DMV, Marilyn Torrance was fifty-age."

"Women lie about their age," Tony informed her as Palmer picked up a hand.

"But this is her hand.

"Not her head," Gibbs suggested.

"Well, maybe that's her head," McGee said, gesturing to the other skull as Palmer shook his head.

"No, that's a man's skull."

"Or," Morgan piped up, drawing their attention. "Perhaps what we found wasn't two bodies at all but just… a bag of parts."

"We definitely don't have two full sets of remains," Palmer agreed as Gibbs tried to figure out what they were getting at.

"We're missing pieces."

"Yes, of these unrelated pieces—Well, they belong to at least three different people," Ducky added.

"Three more bodies?" Ziva questioned in surprise as McGee muttered in equal concern.

"We're missing a lot of pieces."

"This is more than someone just dumping two bodies," Tony tacked on as Morgan gave Gibbs an uneasy look.

"We might have just stumbled onto one of potentially many hiding places for body dumping. If one person is killing a bunch of people, they'd have to get rid of the bodies somehow. Chopping them up into sizeable bits makes hiding them easier. Chuck a bag of them in a mausoleum and it's done and forgotten about until something goes wrong."

"Something did go wrong," Gibbs grumbled as Ducky eyed the group.

"I think you're looking for a mass murderer."

"Your aunt lived with you?" McGee asked the two in front of him who'd come in to discuss their missing relative.

"When she was in town, yes. You're sure she was murdered?" The man asked and McGee hesitated before Morgan spoke up from beside him.

"The evidence is showing that it's highly likely she was but nothing's been confirmed."

He nodded solemnly as Ziva cleared her throat.

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"It's been almost three months."

"And you never filed a missing person's report?"

The woman spoke up this time. "Well, she does this. She would meet a new man with a yacht, or jet, and disappear for a while."

Morgan idly made a note of that as the man gave a small shrug.

"We always expected she would resurface eventually."

"Just never like this," the woman choked out as Morgan pushed over a box of tissues when she began to cry; not looking up from her notepad.

"Um, I know how difficult it is to lose a person you care about," Ziva offered, earning a muttered thanks from the woman as McGee spoke up.

"We'll also need a list of anyone who has access to your homes—contractors, workmen, employees."

"And those previous flings she might have had," Morgan tacked on, pushing over the notepad and pen. "Travel companions, associates…"

"Of course."

They didn't take long to pass over a list and the group stepped out of the meeting room and began to escort them to the elevator.

"Thank you for coming in so quickly," McGee said as they nodded.

"If you learn anything…"

"Please call."

"As soon as we know more," Ziva offered with a small sympathetic smile.

Morgan didn't stick by long, heading to her desk and giving Russell a pet as she sat down to start looking up the names they'd been given. McGee spared her a small glance but decided that addressing Ziva's reaction might be a better path to follow.

"They were really cut up."

Ziva shot him a look and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Sorry. It's a poor choice of words."

"How many more of these are we going to do?"

"Ah, at least five. So pace yourself."

"What do you mean by that, McGee?"

He was starting to second-guess his decision to bring it up at all now. "Nothing. Just, you know, it got a little emotional in there."

Before they could continue, Tony walked by, sending someone upstairs to the meeting room himself. McGee gave the woman a glance in curiosity.

"Next of kin?"

"Abby thinks there might be more body parts hidden in her grandfather's crypt," Tony clarified.

"You talked to Abby?"

"Yeah, McGee."

"I was right, wasn't I? There's something wrong."

"Let it go, Probie," Tony warned.

"Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure it's something you did."

"Or," Morgan spoke up, drawing their attention to her. "It's something neither of you should be poking your nose into because it will just piss her off more. My suggestion? Drop it. If she wants to talk, she will." She looked between the two before glancing down at her notepad and keyboard once more. "And I doubt it will be with either of you."

"But if it's something I did—"

"Even more of a reason why she won't talk to you until she's ready or until you realize what you did," Morgan said sharply, glancing at him with a frown. "Trust me. Don't push your luck."

McGee frowned, trying to think about what he could have done and he went to settle behind his desk as Ziva glanced at Morgan. Without nosey Tony around there was half a shot she might get an answer from her so, she took a chance.

"What's going on between you and Gibbs?"

Morgan's hand twitched ever so slightly, making her hit the backspace key a tad harder than she would have liked. "Nothing."

Ziva raised a brow, knowing that "nothing" in Morgan's case usually meant something. "Right, so the fact that you were fumbling with your gear earlier when he walked by was just nothing…"

"Yes," Morgan bit out.

"Mm, and the drink he got you was nothing too?"

Morgan shot her a glare as Ziva cracked a smile.

"Just saying. He doesn't go out and bring anyone else drinks."

"Ziva's right," McGee added, having overheard from his desk. "He usually expects us to bring him coffee. Not the other way around."

"Nothing is going on," Morgan said sharply. "And much like your case with Abby, I suggest you stay out of it if you don't want two people pissed off at you McGee."

He winced, though Ziva didn't back off at all.

"You've been staying at his place, haven't you? While you were on medical leave? I totally get it if something happened. You and Gibbs are—"

Morgan wasn't listening though, having spotted the same woman Tony had just taken upstairs returning to the elevator. "Speaking of something happening. Why is the next of kin leaving so suddenly?"

The other two turned to see Tony hurrying after the woman and asking her something at the elevator but she still left and he grimaced before making his way back to the bullpen.

"Something wrong, Tony?" Ziva asked, already knowing what the answer was. "I thought you said you knew how to deal with an angry woman."

"I'll have you know—" Tony cut himself short upon spotting Gibbs heading over. "T-That we're going to be needing a warrant, boss. Next of kin denied access the the crypt."

"Well? Get on it," Gibbs demanded and Tony hastily hurried off and Gibbs began gathering his things. "Morgan."

She stiffened and hesitantly glanced at him. "Yes, si—boss," she corrected, letting him know that she was very much struggling with what had happened if she was going back to calling him "sir."

"Come on. I'll give you a lift."

Morgan glanced at Ziva and McGee but both were pointedly trying to stay interested in their computers. "A… lift?"

Gibbs raised a brow. "We're stuck waiting on a warrant unless you found something from the relatives of our one victim."

Morgan hadn't and struggled to try and think of a way out of this but Gibbs wasn't giving her the opportunity.

"Let's go," he pressed, pulling on his coat and heading toward the elevator. "I'll help you pack."

Morgan quickly scrambled to grab her things as Russell eagerly bounded alongside her while she tried to stop him at the elevator. "Gibbs, I don't need you to help me pack. It's fin—"

"Morgan."

She fumbled to say something at his raised brow and unyielding expression. He wasn't about to let her go alone and as much as she wished he would, she knew she wouldn't be able to change his mind. So, begrudgingly, she closed her mouth, pursed her lips, and let out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. Fine, I-I guess you can help."

"Good," he said with a small smile as he hit the button on the elevator and decided to tack on one more thing. "I'll buy dinner too."

He couldn't help but chuckle at the groan of exasperation that escaped her. He was going to get past this outer shell of hers whether she wanted him to or not. She wasn't outright rejecting him and hadn't even after the kiss had happened. To him, that was a chance and he wasn't about to let it slip by.

"Are you going to ignore me all night?"

"Yes," Morgan grumbled shortly, packing away some glass plates into a box as she carefully wrapped them in newspaper.

Gibbs shot her a look as he packed her books into another box and Russell watched in fascination for a moment before moving into another room. "Did I do something wrong?"

Morgan closed her eyes in mild frustration, wanting to say yes but being unable to. She didn't want to admit the reason why and was stubbornly going to pretend that what Dr. McNeil had said to encourage her before was the only actual reason. She wasn't about to tell him that she didn't feel the kiss was wrong per se and that she was struggling to sort her feelings out on it. Why couldn't things just stay the way they were? It would be so much easier if he just—

Squeeeeeeaaaaak.

Morgan lifted her gaze from the box in front of her to find Russell standing happily in front of her with a squeaker toy in his mouth; stumpy tail wagging hard enough to make his body shake. The toy let out another screech as he released it and dropped it into her box. He was attempting to pack his toys away and Morgan couldn't help but smile a little at his attempt.

"Here, Rus. I'll get you a box."

She got up and patted his head, grabbing another box and setting it up before putting Russell's toy in it. The dog understood the assignment and bounded off to find more toys to pack as Morgan and Gibbs watched fondly. Morgan's soft smile faltered though, knowing Gibbs wouldn't let her drop the topic of discussion without some response.

"I don't want to talk about it," she blurted out, drawing his gaze to her back that was stiff and straight; her attempt at remaining confident in her decision.

"We'll have to at some point," he informed her. "Dancing around it is just going to cause problems for both of us."

"I just—" Morgan grimaced, reaching up and dragging a hand down her face as she tried to get the right words out; to explain herself without feeling like she was the problem. "I-I don't know how to deal with this right now."

"Most usually start with how they fee—"

"And I don't know!" She pressed, turning to face him as Russell came back out and whined softly with a plush toy in his mouth; unsure whether to intervene or not. "I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about this. About any of this. I don't know the first thing about, about love o-or caring or relationships. I've always been too busy trying to figure out other problems—bigger problems—than working out what I'm supposed to do when someone cares for me as more than just, just an acquaintance. I can't even figure out friends! What am I supposed to think when my fucking boss kisses me?"

Gibbs watched her cautiously for a moment, having realized he might have pushed a bit too hard with his teasing. Slowly, he got to his feet as she paced slightly and tugged on her hair in frustration. She seriously has no idea, does she? Virgin, I get but… She doesn't have a clue how to deal with regular emotions either?

And he wasn't wrong. Morgan had always struggled to deal with people and generally, it was due to her own stunted emotional capacity. The military had solidified that into her personality and while small instances broke through (her psychotic ex stalking her for love or Mann being determined to be her friend among others), it was her recognizing her own feelings about things that was always a struggle. The most she'd gotten was that when she could tolerate being around someone on a daily basis without feeling a hint of annoyance, she'd somehow become friendly with them.

Love was never a concern. Long hours, constant trips in and out of the country, and not being able to even hold onto a friend meant there was no point wasting time to think about it. Except now, the opportunity had presented itself and she was frustrated and conflicted because she knew that she actually liked Gibbs. She was just scared of change. She was scared of what would happen if she admitted it. To him or herself. How would the change in their relationship create chaos in the workplace? At home? If something went wrong—on a case, on accident, in the relationship itself—how would she be able to deal with the fallout?

She'd finally found someplace she enjoyed that wasn't the military. She'd found a group of people she was friendly with and work she enjoyed doing. She could relax and breathe for more than a moment without worrying about her past or an ambush or losing her position over something stupid. If she lost all of that because she finally let go, finally relaxed too far, then what? She might not have much to lose but it was everything to her and the thought of losing him and his respect was what scared her the most.

She just wasn't used to being scared.

"If you want me to stop…" Gibbs started, unsure of what else to say in this situation, even if the thought of letting her go killed him inside.

I don't, Morgan knew. I don't want you to stop. I-I really don't but I… "I-I just need time… please. I just need to… to sort myself out."

"Okay," Gibbs agreed, reaching out and lightly touching her arm, making her flinch. "Okay. I can wait."

It wasn't a "no," after all. He just needed to be a little more patient. He ran his hand up and down her arm in comfort for a moment as she took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Come on. You're worrying Russell," he offered softly, drawing her gaze to the dog now leaning against her leg and lightly nudging her hand. "Take a seat for a minute while I go put these in the car, okay?"

Morgan nodded and sank onto the sofa that the movers would take the next day, letting Russell climb up into her lap to hold him as Gibbs gave her space. He carried the two boxes into the elevator and sighed to himself.

"Nice one, Jethro…"

Morgan hadn't slept well that night. Between her discussion with Gibbs and it being the first night in a new apartment, nightmares had kept her up. She'd considered taking medication to help but knew that with them being on a case and needing to get to the mausoleum in the morning, taking medication to help her sleep could put her in a bad spot. This meant she was rather drained and frustrated when Gibbs showed up again to give her a ride. He'd known she'd be out of it the next morning and brought her one of her usual energy drinks and a couple of donuts for breakfast as a peace offering. He'd even told her to sleep in the car on the way to the main building since they were going to just turn around and leave again to go to the mausoleum. He'd locked her in the car when she'd started to get out and too exhausted to fight him on it, she did eventually drift off.

Gibbs was still trying to figure out a way to make things up to her. He hadn't meant to start anything the previous evening and knew he needed to be more patient than he had been. There were signs that she wasn't against them heading into a relationship. She hadn't said she hated him or fully avoided him. She hadn't told him to stop or refused his little gifts or advances. He just needed to make sure he didn't push her too far or she would refuse just to get him off her back. Of course, things couldn't have gotten any worse when they pulled up—him nudging Morgan awake—and a familiar face strolled out of the taped-off mausoleum.

"Company, boss," Tony chimed as Gibbs headed over to the smirking Mann.

"Special Agent Gibbs."

"Colonel Mann," he greeted, hearing Morgan shushing Russell as the dog spotted Mann as well.

"I got a call your case might be venturing into CID territory," Mann hummed.

"That call was premature," Gibbs said, earning a raised brow from Mann.

"Really? Here I thought it was four weeks overdue," she said, glancing over at Morgan herself and giving Gibbs a suspicious look. "I understand you were denied permission by the family to access Colonel Dalton's crypt."

Gibbs glanced at Tony, knowing that he'd been the one to screw that up for him. "Got a warrant."

"And that got my attention," Mann replied, pulling out a notebook and pen and subtly hinting that she knew something was going on. "Why don't you fill me in? Wouldn't want to make a bad situation worse, would you? Don't look so nervous, Jethro."

"Do I look nervous?" Gibbs challenged.

Mann hummed, then offered a smile to Morgan over his shoulder. "How are you, Morgan?"

"Fine," Morgan muttered, giving Russell permission to greet Mann who happily squished his face with a smile.

"Fine, huh? Don't look like you slept well."

Morgan's frown deepened. "I just moved apartments."

"Right. Course. So it's nothing to do with whatever happened between you and Gibbs, right?" Mann challenged, making Morgan stiffen as Tony and Ziva glanced at one another curiously.

Seeing that gossip was about to be spread, Gibbs spoke to them sharply.

"David, DiNozzo, perimeter," he ordered, nodding for Morgan and Man to go with him toward the mausoleum as Tony attempted to argue.

"Sure you don't want us to help you in there, boss?"

He was pointedly ignored as the trio moved into the mausoleum and Morgan gave Russell the chance to search the other tombs for possible signs of more bodies.

"It's not like you to leave something unfinished," Mann said, glancing at Gibbs pointedly.

She wasn't talking about the crime scene either but then Morgan glanced her way, so she played it off.

"The crime scene. Ever worry you're slipping, Agent Gibbs?"

"Nope," he stated simply, shooting her a look that said he knew what she was doing and didn't appreciate it.

"Any suspects yet?"

"Nothing concrete."

"What does your gut say?"

"Theory is it's an inside job," he fibbed.

"But you don't like that," Mann easily pointed out. "So, how else would he know which crypts are vacant?"

Gibbs gestured to one of the crypts and knelt down with his tool kit as Mann hummed.

"Ah, read the faceplates… The warrant didn't exactly specify what we're looking for here."

"No," Gibbs agreed, keeping information from her since she was trying to weasel her way into what was going on with him and Morgan. "It's best to not have expectations."

"It staves off disappointment," Mann agreed. "What are we hoping for?"

Gibbs shot her a look as he started unscrewing the opening of the tomb. "You throw that 'we' word around pretty casually."

"I was talking about Morgan and me," Mann teased, earning a scowl from Morgan as she had Russell come lay down by her to keep him away should the crypt being open decide to be as explosive as the last one.

"The last time someone tried to remove one of these, it blew up in his face," Gibbs warned her. "You might want to step back a little bit."

"Thank you for your concern," Mann replied, not moving and once the seal was broken on the tomb, Morgan spoke up.

"It's not there."

"He's not even—" Mann cut herself short at seeing Russell still lying down in wait. "Ah, Russell would've reacted. I see what you mean about expectations."

Gibbs moved the front anyway and upon seeing the casket inside, replaced it. "Why isn't Russell reacting beforehand?"

"If they're sealed completely, then Russell wouldn't be able to smell it. The tombs have vents, but once they're clogged, no air gets through, so no scent," Morgan explained. "Once the seal is cracked, he'll know before we do."

Mann nodded for Morgan to follow her over to find the other tomb they had access to and she gave the other woman a look. "You going to tell me anything about what's going on?"

"No," Morgan grumbled, keeping her eyes on Russell to avoid her friend's probing. "Nothing's going on."

Mann scoffed lightly. "I'm not blind, Morgan. He obviously made a move like he said he was going to the last time we worked together."

Morgan whipped around to her at that, having not known that Mann had been aware of Gibbs's feelings toward her that long ago.

"Thing is, I need to know whether or not I need to kick his ass for upsetting you or kick your ass for tiptoeing around it," Mann said, giving her a sharp look. "And something tells me it's not him I need to be dealing with."

Morgan pursed her lips, not liking where this conversation was headed but Mann backed off and leaned over to look past her.

"Here it is," she called to Gibbs, summoning him over to the Dalton tomb they'd been given a warrant for.

When he came over though, she stood defiantly in front of it, arms folded over her chest as he stared her down.

"Are you going to let me in?"

"I think we should be clear on the implications first," she declared.

"You're interfering with my investigation."

"Is that what I'm doing?" Mann challenged as Morgan rubbed at her eyes in frustration, knowing this was because of her issues with Gibbs.

This is why I don't want anything to change. There are already issues happening here a-and I honestly don't know what I'm doing anymore.

"If there's evidence in here, I'm going to be obligated to see this through to the end," Mann declared.

"And if there's not?" Gibbs pressed, silently knowing she wouldn't leave even if there wasn't.

"Then I don't see why my involvement shouldn't end right here," Mann informed him and he nodded as she moved aside and he got his tools ready to open the tomb. "So? Who's going to talk first?"

"If you wanted to talk, you didn't have to manufacture a reason," Gibbs grumbled as he got to work.

"I follow the orders of the United States Army, even when they don't exactly make sense," she countered.

"You could have called," Gibbs suggested and Mann raised a brow.

"And you seriously think she would have picked up?" Mann said, drawing his gaze to Morgan as she frowned at Mann.

He did have his doubts that Morgan would've answered a call from her and begrudgingly sighed. "So, what? You come down here to interrogate us instead?"

"It wouldn't be an interrogation if you two bull-headed idiots would just explain what's going on."

"There's nothing going on," Morgan pressed, making Mann scoff.

"I could cut the tension between you two with a knife and don't think I'm the only one who's noticed. Your team is suspicious too."

"So, what do you want?" Gibbs asked, still working at the tomb.

"Answers. I'm assuming you made a move finally?"

Gibbs gave Morgan a glance which was all the answer Mann needed.

"Yeah, thought so. Who's the problem then?"

"What makes you think—"

"Because you're both too stubborn to properly deal with anything," Mann cut Morgan off, poking her in the arm. "You especially. If he's giving you shit, put your foot down and tell him to back off. If you're not interested, then tell him."

Morgan didn't say anything for a millisecond too long, shifting her glance away from them both, which did quite a few things. It let Mann and Gibbs know she was interested, very much interested. It told Mann that Morgan was the one struggling with what had happened and she definitely needed a long talking to. And, it also meant that Gibbs would need a different talk. Plans were already forming in Mann's mind and before she could point out the hesitation she'd seen, Gibbs sliced through the seal on the tomb in front of him, immediately setting Russell off.

The trio glanced at the now-barking dog before looking at one another as Gibbs completely unsealed the tomb and pulled off the front casing to reveal more severed corpses.