"Good morning, Evaline. Want a donut?" Tony holds up a white paper bag.

"No thanks." My mouth waters at the look of the glazed donuts inside. "I'm trying this new diet where I can't eat carbs, so a donut doesn't exactly fit in."

The senior agent scans my figure up and down. "From what I can see, you could use a donut. Maybe three." He suggests.

"My body, my choices." I smile politely.

"We got a murder at Little Creek." As soon as Gibbs arrives, he's already headed towards the elevator. "Get Ducky."

Tony gets out of his seat, hunched over and super tight.

"You alright?"

"Couldn't be better."

"Kate, what did you say to him?"

Seeing as the body is close to the water, we have to take measurements and pictures before the tide can come in. Fortunately, we finish the preliminaries in time.

Unfortunately, Tony's left soaking wet.

While Kate and Gibbs talk to the CEO of Side-Scan Technologies — where our victim used to work — I stick around with Tony.

I stand by the front desk, waiting for him to finish changing into the spare suit Ducky provided. Of course, when he does arrive, Seaman Apprentice Sparks goes quiet.

My lips curve up in a smile, the only thing stopping me from bursting into giggles."My, oh, my, Agent DiNozzo. You look ravishing."

"Special Agents DiNozzo and Giudice." Tony shows him his badge.

Sparks covers the microphone part of his headset. "Just can't stop messing with the uniforms, can they, sir?"

And that does it.

Tony glares daggers when he hears the muffled laugh from my direction.

"You on duty this morning?"

"Yes, sir."

"Take the call about the attack on the beach?"

"Yes, sir." Sparks' focus shifts to his computer. "Call came in at 0932."

"Get a name?"

"No, sir. But the voice was male. Sounded real nervous. And when I started asking questions, he just hung up."

I peer over the counter to see his desk phone. "I see that you have caller ID."

"Yes, ma'am. But the call that came in this morning was blocked." His tongue grazes over his bottom lip.

Great. Just. . .great.

"Well," Tony steps forward, gently pushing me back, "it shouldn't be too hard for NCIS to trace that. Come on, G."

As we are about to leave, Sparks calls out, "I'd write a letter, sir."

"Keep walking, DiNozzo."

We meet up with a dear old friend to help us trace the call.

"Come on, come on, come on, McGee! You said you could do this." Tony rushes him.

"I didn't say it was going to be easy." McGee shoots back.

Tony repeatedly taps a finger on his knee. "Actually, that's exactly what you said. Only on the phone, you ended it with a 'sir'."

"Well, that's when I thought you were talking about going through the proper channels."

"Proper channels have too many bends."

"Alright!" I cut in, shutting them both up. "I don't think I'd be able to survive a day if McGee happened to join the response team. You two would drive me crazy!" My hands entangle themselves around the ends of my hair.

"That low-carb thing not working out?" Tony fakes a pout.

"Go on, McGee." Now, it's my turn to glare at Tony.

"Lucky for you two, Little Creek has its own central exchange, otherwise the proper channels would be your only option." McGee switches between looking at his computer and the keyboard.

"If we're so lucky, why haven't you given us the number yet?"

"The exchange handles all incoming calls to the base. Do you have any idea how many calls came into Little Creek at 0932?"

"You know what my dad always said about excuses?" I look up at the mention of his dad. No one on the team discusses their family or relatives, especially Tony.

"They're like armpits — everybody has them, and they all stink."

"Actually, he used a different part of the anatomy, but you got the main idea."

"You and Abby still going at it?" I change the subject to something way more interesting.

"Our paths still cross on occasion."

"Really? I guess the tat on the old caboose did the trick."

"Among other things."

"You don't say." Tony and I share a look of. . .intrigue. "Did you see any art on her caboose?"

"You're right. I don't say." What a tease.

"Oh, come on, McGee. You can't leave us hanging like that." I cross my arms over my chest. "Tell us, McGoo." That seems to catch McGee's attention right away. "I'm close with Abby. We share a lot of things."

"Ah! Found it." And saved by the bell. "See, the new SS7 data circuits, they block display of the number, but the calling party number message is still carried on the line."

"I don't know what you just said. I don't care what you just said. Just give us the number."

That's when I find something strange on the monitor.

"I'm not a computer tech-genius like you, but that asterisk sure doesn't look like it belongs there." I point to it.

Tony nods his head at the agent. "What does it mean?"

"Um. . .I'm not sure." McGee resumes jotting down the number

From next to me, Tony tilts his head slightly.

". . .sir?" He struggles out.

"That was not an 'add a sir' look. That was a 'you'd better find out why' look."

"Oh."

"It's alright. Rookie mistake."

"Let's go, Steve Urkel."

"I told you to stop calling me that!"

The area code, 703, comes from Langley here in Virginia, which means CIA.

Once we're back at headquarters, Tony changes back into some of his own clothes. The first thing he does after changing is buy a candy bar.

"What do you got for lunch?" Kate looks over at my desk, grimacing when she sees the green leaves.

"A salad. A delicious, healthy meal. . .fit for a cow." I push it aside.

"You got me thinking, Evaline. Maybe I should improve my diet." He approaches me, the chocolate still in his hand.

I face Kate, who's busy working on some PC. "Don't you need to eat healthy to be able to call it a diet?"

"That's right." She answers.

"Oh, yeah? Well, what do you call this?" He holds up the bar. "This. . .is a nutrition bar. It says so on the label."

"Hand it over." I snap my fingers a few times.

Tony passes it to me, and I flip to the back where the ingredients are listed.

"Let's take a look at what we're dealing with here." I stand beside Kate, the two of us checking the ingredients.

"High fructose corn syrup, basically sugar. High maltose corn syrup, another sugar." She points out the first two ingredients.

"Have fun lugging Egan's computer down to Abby's lab."

Gibbs visits the CIA agency after figuring out the only way someone could have called in a murder from two hundred miles away is through a high-def satellite.

After locating where the satellite was accessed, Kate and Gibbs stakeout in front of the building.

"Tony, you have got to stop stressing about your looks." I roll my eyes when I notice the hand grip exerciser in his right hand.

"Wanna feel how hard my forearm is? Feel it. Come on." He presses on it continuously, urging me to do so as well.

I toss him an apple. "Eat healthy. Do cardio. Stop focusing on how hard your forearm is."

The next morning, Tony ventures out to look for our nude sunbather who happened to be featured on the satellite transmission from yesterday. She gives us some pretty solid information in regards to the case.

"We know the killer was left-handed, which eliminates Commander Tyler whose service file confirms she's a righty." Kate is the first step off the elevator.

"We also know the killer's a woman. Unless Overmeyer went Norman Bates on the guy." Tony drops his coat at his desk. "Actually, when you think about it, the M.O.'s match." He pretends to chop off Kate's head.

"Ignoring DiNozzo. . ." I clear my throat, "we just got rid of our top two suspects, leading us back to square one."

"And they were really good suspects." We congregate around Gibbs' desk.

"Yeah, maybe too good."

"What do you mean by that?"

"We got carried away with the missing prototype." Right, the device. "Espionage and whistle-blowing is a lot more intriguing than someone who's just —"

Tony catches on quickly. "Just really pissed off."

"Egan's wife?" Kate assumes.

"Her husband was diving in someone else's reef. . .dipping the fin in the company pool. . .pinging the wrong pong."

"But Egan's wife got back from her seminar after her husband was murdered."

"That's what she said."

With nothing else, Kate and Gibbs go over to Lieutenant Egan's home. That night, we follow her on Highway 264.

"You know, we should have a satellite for our own surveillance."

"Better yet, Tony, you should transfer to the CIA. It's a win-win situation for all of us."

Soon, we catch her in the act of digging up her husband's dive knife, which she used to kill her husband.

"I see you've given up on the diet."

"Screw you, DiNozzo."