The cell phone's chirp woke Gibbs a few minutes past five in the morning. He sat up, blinking and almost instantly alert to his surroundings. The skeleton of his current boat project loomed in front of him, the smell of sawdust filling the air. He leaned forward, snatching the phone off the end table. There was a time that the basement could've been a refuge, a time no one could have reached him down here. A time before cell phones.

He opened the phone, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he said, "Gibbs." He listened for a moment, then said, "We'll be there." He disconnected the call and dialed DiNozzo's number. "Call Kate and Ducky. Have them meet us at Little Creek." He sighed and said, "No, DiNozzo, I'm sure the MPs at Little Creek are just eager to see your smiling face." He snapped the phone shut and headed upstairs to change clothes.

The sun was just beginning to peek through his living room window, illuminating the silhouettes of his furniture. He passed the doorway to the front room and went to the bedroom, pulling a handful of clothes from the closet. There was a shuffling behind him and he turned, the redheaded woman in his bed rising to look at him. "You never came to bed last night," she said.

"No," he admitted. "Sorry about that."

"S'okay," she said, rubbing her eyes. "Get a call?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Need a ride?"

"No." He walked over to her and kissed her forehead. "I'm going to hop in the shower." He brushed her arm as he headed to the bathroom. In the doorway, he paused and said, "Of course, if you'd like to join me..."

She smiled and threw the blankets off.

---

Twenty minutes later, Gibbs arrived at the beach. The truck was already there, parked at an angle across three parking spaces. He parked next to the truck and opened the door, taking a moment to pull on a pair of rubber gloves. In the angled mirror, he spotted a dark silhouette moving alongside the truck towards his open door. From the shape and gait of the stalker, he assumed he had nothing to worry about.

He waited until the shape was right next to the door and said, "What've we got, DiNozzo?"

DiNozzo paused, his prank ruined, and looked towards the beach. "Dead petty officer. Throat slashed from here to here," he said, drawing a line under his chin from one ear to the other. "Not pretty."

"Seldom is," Gibbs muttered. He slammed the door of his truck and DiNozzo led him out of the parking lot and down to the sand. Ducky was kneeling in the sand, gingerly lifting a corner of the corpse's jacket. "Duck, hope we didn't disturb your mother, calling so early."

"Ah, Jethro!" Ducky said, rising to a standing position. "Hardly. Mother is usually up at all hours, usually watching Nick-at-Nite. She is particularly fond of Gilligan's Island, though one can hardly..."

"The body, Ducky."

"Yes," Ducky said, shifting his gaze to the man at his feet. "The poor petty officer's throat was slashed, as you can plainly see. From the angle of the cut, I'd say the killer was standing in front of him rather than behind."

"Swinging blindly?" Gibbs asked.

"Perhaps, or a lucky shot."

"Maybe a crime of passion," DiNozzo offered. "Lover's stroll on the beach, guy says something the girl doesn't like, she stabs him."

Gibbs glanced at him and said, "A lot of your dates carry knives on romantic strolls with you?"

"Sometimes," Tony admitted quietly.

Ducky smirked.

Jimmy Palmer arrived then, pushing the gurney through the sand. DiNozzo lifted the camera. "Got pictures of the body, surrounding scene. Gotta love the flash at these pre-dawn crime scenes, huh, boss?"

Gibbs ignored the question. "Where are Kate and McGee?"

"McGee's running the evidence we've already gathered over to Abby."

Gibbs waited a moment and then faced DiNozzo. "That answers one of my questions."

Tony shifted uncomfortably and said, "She's, ah... running a little late, boss."

Gibbs twisted the corner of his mouth, but said nothing. "All right, Duck. Get this guy to the morgue, let me know what you find. DiNozzo, you and me, walk the perimeter. Give me ten feet on either side of the body, five feet out."

"You got it, boss."

They separated, leaving Ducky and Palmer to deal with the body.

---

"Beaches are like footprint museums, boss," DiNozzo said in the elevator. They'd spent an hour combing the beach around the body of Petty Officer Jeremy McClain and had come up with nothing more than a candy wrapper and a few dozen cigarette butts. DiNozzo kept talking for a bit, but Gibbs tuned him out. He was thinking instead of Kate Todd, sitting upstairs more than likely, who had arrived late enough to miss the crime scene entirely.

Unacceptable.

The elevator doors opened and Gibbs lead the way to the squad room, already feeling the weight of the day on his shoulders. Kate was at her desk and he hardly acknowledged her as he went to his desk. She stood, watching him pass by, and opened the file. "I did some digging on Petty Officer McClain... his parents are still alive, live in a suburb of Virginia Beach. McClain was assigned to the USS Grapple, no outstanding reports from his CO, either good or bad. Nothing on the mission list."

"He live on base?" Gibbs asked.

"In the BOQ."

"Get out there with DiNozzo and McGee, see if you can find any evidence of a girlfriend."

Tony glanced at Kate. "So... you think it was a lover's quarrel?"

"No, that was your theory, Tony. It was a good one." When Kate and Tony remained, staring at him, Gibbs waved at the elevator and said, "Gloating would be a very bad idea, DiNozzo."

"Got it, boss," Tony said, darting off.

"Agent Todd," Gibbs said. Kate returned and Gibbs stood, lowering his voice so he wouldn't be overheard. "When you receive a call, you are there. Do you understand me?"

"It won't happen again, Gibbs."

He nodded and took a seat. Kate left, hurrying to catch up with the effervescent DiNozzo. Alone in the squad room, Gibbs removed his cell phone and flipped the cover open. Two text messages. He frowned at the screen, punching the small keys until he ended up on the ring-tone screen. Frustrated, he punched around until he reached the Voice Mail prompt.

"This is Special Agent Jethro Gibbs," he said into the speaker. "If it is important, call me on a real phone." He slapped the phone shut, opened a drawer and tossed it in. He stood, tugging his jacket closed and stalked to the elevators.

He needed coffee. Some people said he needed coffee like he needed his next breath, but that wasn't accurate.

He could hold his breath.

---

Coffee in hand, Gibbs headed to autopsy. Ducky had already opened the man up and was examining the chest cavity. Palmer was at the head of the table, valiantly refusing to look sick. Gibbs stepped between Ducky and the assistant, looking down at the body. "What can you tell me, Duck?"

"Cause of death was indeed a single slice to the jugular. Manner of death, however, is a bit trickier. There were no defensive wounds on the young man's hands or arms."

"So maybe he didn't see it coming."

"Yes, or he did it himself..."

Palmer said, "Knife made out of ice!"

Gibbs and Ducky both looked at the young man, who finally blanched under the combined powers of their stares. "Um... I was j-just saying that... if it was a suicide, then it would be like that... riddle... of the man who hung himself? And there was nothing to stand on, but there was a puddle..."

"Palmer's right," Gibbs said.

"I am?" Palmer asked quietly.

"There was no knife found at the scene. Either someone carried it away, or..."

"I assure you, Jethro, this cut was made by steel."

Gibbs nodded. "Well, always good to keep our options open." He smirked at his old friend and said, "Let me know if you find anything else."

"Indeed, I shall, Jethro." On his way out the door, Gibbs overheard Ducky say, "A knife made of ice? Honestly, Mr. Palmer..."

---

He looked up from his desk as Tony and Kate walked back into the squad room. Tony began speaking as soon as he saw Gibbs was paying attention. "Guy was a serious neat freak. Had labels for everything in his cupboard... 'vegetables, more than two weeks old'; 'cereal - fruit-flavored'; 'cereal - plain'... the guy was a panic attack waiting to happen."

"Might be why he joined the Navy," Kate suggested. "Someone who needs that much order probably relished the opportunity to have such a rigid schedule. When to get up, when to eat, when to sleep..."

"Any signs of a girlfriend?" Gibbs asked.

"A few love letters on scented paper. They're not Shakespeare, but Penthouse wouldn't publish them, either. We had McGee drop 'em with Abby along with the guy's laptop."

Gibbs perked up slightly. "The love letters were hand-written?"

"Yeah..."

He exhaled and shook his head. "Dear God, there might be hope for this generation after all..."

"I still hand-write all my Christmas cards," Tony said.

Gibbs stood and said, "Good work, DiNozzo." He strode off, purposefully excluding Kate. He'd only punish her for the rest of the day, but hopefully she'd think of this the next time she was going to be late to a crime scene.

He rode the elevator down to Abby's floor, the wall of sound hitting him as soon as he stepped from the car. He winced and pushed forward, moving quickly across the lab and jabbing his finger against the stereo's power button. Silence descended over the room.

Abby emerged from the inner forensics lab, carrying a baggy with a cell phone in it. "You're harshing my buzz, man," she complained.

"You're damaging your eardrums," he countered. "Where's McGee?"

"Head," Abby said.

Gibbs pointed at the evidence baggy. "McClain's belongings."

"Geez, Gibbs, give a girl a chance to get acquainted with the evidence before you ask for a profile." She walked to her computer and typed in a sequence, watching the screen as the information popped up. "Okay, we've got a laptop computer, a couple of love letters scented in something even Ducky's mother wouldn't wear... some video games, typical guy haven. Except no porno."

"How about photo albums? Pictures in a wallet, that sort of thing?"

"Probably stored pictures of his girl on his cell phone."

Gibbs grumbled under his breath and said, "All right, see if there's anything on the computer that could find her for us."

He started for the door, but Abby called his name. He turned and she said, "Look, don't be mad at Kate. It wasn't her fault she was late to the crime scene."

"Whose fault was it?"

"Mine," Abby admitted. "I was really..." She waved her hands, looking for the right words, and said, "Really out-of-sorts last night. I called her about midnight, she came and got me. She was still with me when Tony called her about the crime scene."

He nodded slowly. "All right, Abs. By out-of-sorts..."

"I was... a little drunk."

"And now..."

"I'm fine. I don't get hangovers. You know that."

Gibbs nodded and headed back to the elevator. "Thanks for letting me know, Abs."

---

DiNozzo was on the phone, his back turned to the rest of the room, when Gibbs returned to the squad room. McGee was at his desk, but far enough away to be out of earshot for a whisper. He stopped in front of Kate's desk and leaned forward, startling her when she looked up. "If this happens again, and it shouldn't... just tell me." He straightened and stepped away, heading to his own desk.

"Wait, Gibbs," Kate said, glancing towards McGee's desk. The probie was now paying slightly closer attention to the conversation. "Tell you what?"

"Why you're late." He sat and explained, "I was just talking to Abby."

Kate's eyes widened slightly. "And she... told you why I was late?"

"She did."

"And... it's a valid excuse?"

"You were helping a friend."

Kate frowned and said, "Yeah... I-I guess..."

Gibbs looked up, suddenly intrigued. "Just out of curiosity, what <i>were</i> you doing?"

"What did Abby tell you?"

"I'm asking you."

Even without speaking, Gibbs knew he'd been lied to. He sighed and shook his head. "Looks like Abby is the one helping out a friend."

Kate closed her eyes, shoulders sagging. "Sorry, Gibbs." She returned to her desk, resting her head in one hand as she turned back to her computer.

---

Abby called them down to the lab about an hour and a half later. Gibbs led the way, brushing past Kate on his way to the elevator. She hesitated before falling into step behind him. They rode down in silence, Tony between them, and each waited for the other to take the first step from the car when they reached the destination. Tony looked nervously at Gibbs and eventually pushed Kate forward.

She stumbled, turned and glared at him. He shrugged and followed her, Gibbs coming out last but barreling ahead. "What did you find, Abby?"

"Actually, it was McGee," she said, indicating the probie sitting next to her.

"Well, I just happened to figure out the guy's password. It saved us a lot of hacking time."

"You guessed a total stranger's password?" Kate marveled.

"Well, he seemed to follow the He-Man fandom, what with the DVDs and the VHS tapes of..." He caught Gibbs look and said, "I... uh... noticed the 'O' key on the laptop keyboard was slightly worn indicating slightly... more... use than normal." He cleared his throat and nodded at the monitor. "We've accessed his private emails."

"I'm hoping they're more interesting than the He-Man story," Gibbs said.

"More love letters. Very, very steamy love letters from some girl named Tracy."

Tony straightened suddenly. "The quarters next to McClain's are registered to a Tracy Fiddle."

"Fiddle?" Gibbs said.

"As in 'hey-diddle-diddle'?" McGee asked.

"I'd have gone for 'fit as a,' McGee," Tony said. "It's a little more masculine than nursery rhymes."

Gibbs ignored the banter. "How did you glean this information without McGee or Kate finding out along with you?"

"There was a stack of mail in McClain's apartment." He walked across the room to the evidence box, digging around and coming back with an Entertainment Weekly. "A couple of magazines, some junk mail envelopes, were addressed to Tracy Fiddle. The address put her right next door to our dead guy."

Gibbs nodded and said, "Let's go see Ms. Fiddle. Abby, see what else you can find. I don't care if you have to input the names of Bart, Homer and Eliza, you get me everything on that computer."

In the elevator, he saw that Kate was still back at the desk with Abby. McGee was buried in the computer, ignoring the conversation the women were having a few feet away. Gibbs slapped his hand against the door, keeping it open. "Special Agent Todd!"

She cut short whatever she was saying and hurried over, stepping into the car. Without looking at her, Gibbs let the door slide shut and said, "You do not want to make me wait a third time today, Special Agent Todd."

"Won't happen again, Gibbs."

In a moment of silence, Tony muttered, "Lisa."

"What?" Gibbs snapped.

"Nothing, boss."

---

The Bachelor Officer Quarters were set up like a small apartment building. Gibbs led the way down the dark corridor, coffee in one hand and an address in the other. "Right down here," Tony directed, aiming him in the right direction. They found Petty Officer McClain's room and moved down one door. McClain was in Apartment 4, while Tracy Fiddle was in the next room, Apartment 6. The slots for their mail were stacked, four on top of six.

Gibbs pounded just below the peep hole, his wallet out and ready. When the door opened, he raised it and executed the well-practiced hold-and-flip to show both his ID and badge. "Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. We're looking for Petty Officer Tracy Fiddle."

"That's me," the man in the doorway said. He was wearing uniform slacks and a white t-shirt, his eyes half-mast from being woke. He glanced at Kate and Tony. "They NCIS, too?"

"They are," Gibbs said, doing a very good job of hiding just how rattled he was. "How well did you know your neighbor, Petty Officer McClain?"

Fiddle shrugged. "We were on speaking terms. Mailman screwed up a lot, so I ended up with some of his magazines and vice versa." He sniffled and looked nervously back and forth among the agents. "Is he... in some kind of trouble?"

"The worst kind," Tony said. "He's dead."

"What?" Fiddle said quietly. "He... how?"

"On the beach," Kate said. "Did you ever exchange emails with Petty Officer McClain?"

Fiddle shrugged. "Yeah, I don't know... sometimes..."

"Were those emails of a sexual nature?"

Fiddle's face tensed. "I... I mean, you know... I ain't no fag or anything..."

"Course not," Tony said. "Your boyfriend was."

"You shut up," Fiddle practically hissed.

"Up late last night?" Tony asked. "Kind of late for you to still be Droopy Dog."

Fiddle glared at Tony. "I had some files to sort. Took me a while."

"Files to sort," Tony laughed. "Is that the new euphemism? It doesn't make sense, but then, not a lot of them do..."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs warned.

"You make him shut the hell up," Fiddle growled at Gibbs. "He's trying to make me sound like some kind of..."

Tony leaned forward and whispered, "The word is homosexual."

Fiddle's fist was a blur, cutting through the air and connecting with Tony's jaw in a flash. Gibbs was twice as fast, his coffee dropping to the ground to free up his hands. He put one hand on Fiddle's upper arm, pushing his elbow in with the other hand. Fiddle yelped and fell to one knee. Gibbs wrenched the man's arm behind his back, pushing his face against the wall.

"You have the right to remain silent," Gibbs said, reciting the Miranda rights as he snapped the cuffs onto Fiddle.

He turned and saw Kate was already gone, inside the apartment. She returned empty-handed, but reported, "We have several knives. Pocket knives, butcher... but the one I'm interested in is the switchblade sitting in the sink. Did you have really rare steak last night, Fiddle?"

"Get a CSU team down here and call for a warrant," Gibbs said, hauling the man to his feet. "Not that we'll need one, what with you taking a swing at one of my men." He looked at Tony and said, "Antagonizing the suspect is pretty dumb, DiNozzo."

"Well, that's my method... it's not pretty, but it works," Tony said, massaging his sore jaw.

Gibbs smirked and headed for the door, tugging Fiddle along with him like a dog on a leash.

---

"He confessed everything," Kate said. "Hardly even worth going all the way to interrogation. McClain took him for a midnight stroll on the beach, started talking about feelings and their relationship."

"But, since Fiddle was only in it for the warm body, he took offense at McClain's accusation," Tony picked up. "They got into a little bit of a tussle and Fiddle just happened to find his knife in his hand."

"Family heirloom," McGee said. "His grandfather gave it to him. This morning, he was trying to get McClain's blood out of his grandfather's initials. Benjamin Franklin Fiddle, if you can believe it."

"BFF," Kate said. "Best Friends Forever."

Tony chuckled. "Aw, Kate. I'll bet you had lots of those little heart-lockets. Which side did you keep? The Be- Fri- For- side or the -st -ends -ever side?"

Kate rolled her eyes and headed back to her desk.

Gibbs stood, tossing something to her as he passed. She fumbled with the package, frowning at the contents. "What is this?"

"Travel alarm," Gibbs said, not bothering to slow down. "Don't be late tomorrow, no matter where you're sleeping."

---

Gibbs stepped into the cacophony, making his way to the stereo and shutting off the ruckus spewing from the speakers. He went into the inner office and leaned against the counter, waiting in the shadows until he heard the elevator ding. A few seconds later, Abby strolled into the room and started to put her armload down on the desk. "Abby."

"Geez, Gibbs!"

"Sorry."

"Why are you lurking?" she asked, jabbing a finger at him. "You know you can't sneak up on me, so you lurk?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he said, remaining still and boring a hole through her with his icy blue eyes.

"Tell you...?"

He stepped forward. "If you are going to sleep with a member of my team, it had damn well better not interfere with the performance of their duties. Is that clear?"

She nodded, more than a little scared.

He nodded back and put a hand on her shoulder. "She's probably upstairs getting ready to leave soon. I can tell her to wait."

"She's going to come down when she gets off," Abby said quietly.

He nodded again and headed for the door. Abby watched him go and then rushed after him. "Wait. Gibbs!" He stopped. "Don't you have anything to say?"

"About what?"

"About... who it is."

He hesitated. "Yeah," he said finally. "Thank God it isn't DiNozzo."

He smirked and headed to the elevator. When the doors opened, Kate nearly stepped into him. She froze, looking up at him as if afraid of what he was going to do. He widened his smile and said, "She's waiting for you, Kate." He slid by her, stepping into the elevator and cleared his throat. When she looked, he tapped his watch.

She held up the travel alarm and said, "Early, even."

He nodded and said, "Good girl," as the doors closed.

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