Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything.

A/N: It's been a while since I've written a multi-chapter fic that isn't a collection of oneshots, so all I ask is your patience. This will be rife with tropes, so be warned.

Dedicated to NerdyJibbsOreo who is the reason this exists.

Enjoy*

"This is the third one in how many weeks?"

"Three," there was a slight pause, "well two depending on how you look at it."

The lavish Georgetown mansion seemed to be crawling with police officers and NCIS agents. Torres adjusted his cap, sketching as McGee took photos. The young agent looked at the crime scene with slight disgust. He had known what to expect this time round, but it still made his skin crawl.

"Don't you think it's creepy seeing them like this?" Nick shivered visibly, gritting his teeth. "They look peaceful, but you know… they're also covered in blood."

Tim stopped for a moment lowering his camera. "I don't know, obviously the way they died isn't ideal, but I know many married couples who'd die in each other's arms."

Ellie wandered out of the en suite bathroom, snapping off her gloves. "I'm with McGee. It's kind of tragically romantic."

Nick grimaced at the thought. "I'm not saying there's something wrong with it, but it's not exactly the fairy tale ending like in The Notebook." Closing his sketch pad, he looked between his team mates. "Just holding someone's dead body, I mean... that's some weird juju."

"Wait" Tim lowered his camera once more, raising a curious eyebrow at Torres "you've actually seen that movie?"

He froze, eyes darting between his team mates. "It was like a Sunday, and I had nothing to do."

Tim smirked, shaking his head as he heard Ellie cackle with blackmail written all over her face.

"You're all going to have nothing to do if one of you don't tell me what we've got."

Gibbs stormed into the large bedroom, Palmer in tow with a gurney. He gave each a glare for mucking about.

"Same as the other two, Boss." Tim pulled his notes out of his pocket as Torres and Bishop packed up their equipment and left the room. "The Admiral and his wife were loved by everyone, or so the maid says. The only link we see between them and the other victims is they had a serious amount of money."

Jethro nodded, flipping through his own notes. He silently sent Tim on his way to finish up and take the other two back to the office. Years of dealing with all sorts of crime scenes had dulled his olfactory nerves by now, but the coppery stench of blood that hung in the air was suffocating. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he stepped closer to the bed.

He'd seen his fare share of sick and twisted crime scenes. Yet this struck something deep, something he'd been resisting since that hurricane swept through his life. They were tied up together, glassy eyes staring at nothing, wrists slashed open. This was the third couple, and silently he shouldered their death, if he had done his job they'd both still be alive.

Jimmy shuffled his things around, setting out two body bags. He seemed distracted by what they'd come upon, Jethro sighed, perhaps he'd grown too attached to Ducky's penchant for storytelling to lighten the remorse they all felt no matter what number they were up to with crime scenes.

"Misses McClain was killed first." Jimmy fussed with his things trying to stall the inevitable. "I'd say at least two to three hours before Admiral McClain."

Jethro narrowed his eyes slightly. He'd half expected Bishop and Torres to squirm when they started this case. Torres had vehemently stated his thoughts on everything, but he wasn't nearly as rattled as Palmer and McGee.

They were both married, with their own families to look after and having this part of reality remind them that life was short, it was never easy to stomach. There was movement behind him, and he snapped around ready to throttle whoever had slipped passed the agents stationed outside.

Anger flared as he saw her stand in the doorway. He didn't want her to see this. Smokey brown eyes immediately flicked to the bed, the revulsion easily masked by the way she smoothed her hair out of her face. He knew she'd seen the crime scene photos, had been working nights on end to profile the psychopath who was responsible. He wanted to spare her this part. The smell, the eerie sound of death looming in every crevice.

"Sorry I'm late. McGee phoned just as I was entering the Navy Yard." She stepped into the room, the sound of her heels muted by the thick carpet. "You know what it's like early in the morning."

He didn't answer since Jimmy beat him to it.

Palmer darted passed him saying something about finding an extra set of hands to help him. Jethro adjust his cap, watching Jack as she did her own quiet investigation.

"Thoughts, Sloane?"

Jack held up a finger, forcing him to stay quiet. She'd seen his frustration before he even realized. A different setting with different circumstances she might have swooned, if just a little, at how protective he could be. She'd told McGee that no matter what the time he had to phone her if there were more victims. No matter how pissed Gibbs was, she had to be on scene.

"Is anything missing?" She carefully moved around the room, trying not to disturb a thing.

"No, the maid said anything of value is accounted for." Gibbs flipped through his notes, double checking his own work.

"So this is personal." Jack murmured as she stepped closer to the bed, staring at the couple with quiet remorse.

Jethro raised an eyebrow. "Never assume-"

"Double check." Jack straightened, "Believe me, Gibbs, I have. This isn't someone who's seeking attention. I'd have to consult with Ducky, but I should have a complete profile by this afternoon."

Making her way to where he stood, she pressed a hand against his shoulder softly. "You'll get him." She smiled, meeting his conflicted gaze. Blue eyes blazed brightly despite his fatigue, reminding her why blue was rapidly becoming her favorite colour.

The evidence garage was uncharacteristically quiet as she stepped off the elevator. Agent Mason was big on laughter and noise, adding to why all the new probies preferred to work down here. The clicking of her heels pierced the silence as she headed towards the evidence lock up.

A few agents were floating around, cataloging evidence and dividing them to be placed in storage. Some greeted her, already familiar with how often she came to visit their in house Historian. Meandering through a the shelves, she could hear the doctor's own music filtering into the empty corridor.

Three knocks granted her access into the lavishly furnished room. She smirked as the treadmill stopped, the smile on the older man's face enough to elicit a genuine one of her own.

"Oh, what a delightful surprise." They met halfway for a hug.

"I wasn't here that long ago." Jack teased, the old man waved her off, motioning to his steaming tea pot as an offer. "Yes, please."

"I must say, Jacqueline, I am quite surprised to see you." Ducky filled the delicate cups, offering Jack the sugar container. He watched as she sweetened her tea, wondering what had led to her immense love for sugary treats. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's about the 'Bedroom Slasher', well that's what Nick's calling him." She perused through the bookshelf he had added to his office, taking in all the titles. "Each kill was personal." Inhaling deeply, she moseyed towards the couch, taking a seat next to the doctor and placing her file on the coffee table. "It's almost intimate."

Ducky nodded, it wasn't the first time Jack was running her thoughts by him. It was, however, the first time he saw her this… distraught. They had all reached such a point once in their life, but he knew this wasn't her first serial killer, nor was it the most gruesome. There was something personal to this for her.

"He makes the husband watch as…" she grit her teeth, trying to stop the shiver from crawling up her spine. "As she slowly bleeds to death."

Ducky nodded, watching as she mulled everything over in her mind. "It reminds me of one of my early cases here at NCIS." Pushing his glasses back up his nose, he shook his head in disbelief. "A Navy Captain came home early from deployment and discovered his wife in bed with another man. He was so enraged that he had killed both of them."

Jack raised an eyebrow, quietly wondering what his connection to all this was.

"It was later found that he had killed a high school girlfriend for talking to a young man who had expressed interest in her." Ducky sipped his tea, mind spinning with information.

Placing her cup on the table, she stared out the window. "It doesn't make sense Ducky, all three victims were high school sweethearts. No evidence suggests infidelity."

"During the mid 90's Virginia had been terrorized by another serial killer, Kyle Boone." Ducky offered her a strained smile. "Gibbs was responsible for his capture. When time came for his execution Abby had discovered he had killed his own mother and that she had been his very first victim."

Jack frowned, she remembered the news headlines, she had done everything to avoided the Army sending her to Virginia. When he had been captured, the agency or agents had never been mentioned, at least not in the San Diego papers. Running her fingers through her hair, she let out a short agitated sigh. It was the first time in years she was having trouble getting a clear picture for who they were looking for.

"It is personal. A grudge or past trauma might be fueling the blood thirst. Whatever it is, he's going to kill again." Jack snapped her folder shut.

Standing quickly she shook her hair out over her shoulders, desperately trying to relieve some of the stress. The old doctor took her cup, placing it with his. "Why don't you come with me. I'm sure you'd be able to shed some more light on the current case."

Ducky merely nodded, grabbing his jacket as he ushered her to the door. He watched her fidget lightly, biting her nail out of habit. "How is he? Word has it he's been a bear with a swore paw for the last few weeks." He looked at her knowingly. He'd been curios and skeptical about the two of them working together.

Jack shrugged her shoulders, overly aware that a lot of people viewed him that way every day. "He wants to find this guy before there's more victims."

Ducky hid his smile, wondering if she was aware she was defending Gibbs. He had suspected and heard various rumors that there was a little more to their friendship than what met the eye. Clearing his throat, he could see she was still somewhat distracted by everything.

"I do not mean intrude my dear, but you seem somewhat distracted by this case."

Jack blinked, she chuckled nervously. Was she distracted? Of course she was. It was the idea of losing someone that rattled her. She was worried about him for goodness sake, and the thought of losing him was paralyzing. There was nothing between them, just friendship that had been growing a little too close for comfort. She could see what the case was doing to him, and she wondered to what measures he would go to catch this guy.

"Just over worked, Ducky. I'm sure when this is over everything will be back to normal." She dazzled him with a smile, but it was obvious he saw right through her.

The doctor's old grey eyes sparkled knowingly, the wrinkles around them crinkling teasingly. He reached out to her, placing a hand on her cheek comfortingly. There was only understanding written across his face, his mouth pinched at the corner. "He's a good man. Just give him a little time."

The bullpen was unusually quiet for midday. The coffee in his cup was hot against his palm. Taking a slow drink, he stepped off the elevator. It burned the tip of his tongue, all the way down his throat, he brushed off the searing pain in his chest and headed for his desk. It didn't take much to realize that they were all barely clinging to whatever strength they had left. Elaine had asked him three times if he wanted his usual cup of coffee before he could give her a straight answer.

A hushed silence had settled over the bullpen. Torres was unusually quiet, opting to sit in his chair as opposed to floating around his corner. Bishop was covertly napping, trying to hide it behind a stack of files and her open laptop. He let it slide, knowing that dealing with a cranky Bishop was far from ideal for their current circumstances. McGee was typing furiously, his sole motivation his two children. He gave the senior field agent a second glance, noting the dark circles under his eyes.

"Update!" The demand seemed to snap all of them awake.

Bishop jumped up, wondering why no one had tried to wake her. Grabbing her Manila folder, she joined her boss in front of the plasma, while trying to smooth down the cow lick on the side of her head.

"According to most people who knew Admiral McClain, he was a 'happy-go-lucky' guy." Flipping through her file she brought up their second victim. "Misses McClain was described as a social butterfly, always running fundraisers and trying to raise awareness for certain causes."

Gibbs took a drink from his cup, eyeing the cow lick Ellie was still trying to smooth down. "Where'd the money come from?"

"Family money on both sides." Nick jumped to his feet trying to shake off the fatigue. "The Admiral's family comes from a long line of investors. Misses McClain, on the other hand, is Washington royalty."

"How does this connect with our previous victims?" They couldn't miss the impatience in Gibbs' voice.

Nick looked over at Ellie, giving her a wide-eyed look. He hadn't really done much more than dig into the victims backgrounds. He'd secretly hoped they'd be granted a free pass to go home. He'd never admit to being tired, but trying to find their killer was wearing him down.

"Well they all three come from wealthy backgrounds. So..." Ellie muttered slowly, hoping that McGee would throw them a life line.

"So... what Bishop?" Jethro snapped.

McGee jumped to his feet, green eyes bloodshot, but somewhat relieved. "Fundraisers!"

Nick raised an eyebrow, a hand propped under his chin as he regarded him. "I think McGee might need some rest." He snorted a laugh for no reason, alerting everyone else just how tired he really was.

"McGee?" Gibbs prompted, barely hiding the irritation.

Tim grabbed the clicker from Ellie a little roughly, gently moving her out of his way. Pulling up the photos of all six their victims, he pointed at them. "Apart from being wealthy, the only connection between them are fundraisers."

"A lot of rich people hang out at fundraisers, Tim." Ellie placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to sooth the fact that the lead was a dead end.

Tim gave her a tired glare, green eyes still sparkling with a hint of mystery and satisfaction. "Yeah, but what if all six of them attended the same fundraisers?" Pulling up a roster that had clearly been compiled quickly he pointed at the highlighted bars.

"They all had reservations for the same fundraisers." He smiled at Ellie triumphantly.

Nick furrowed his brow, piecing everything together. "So what you're saying is that, the weirdo picks his victims from those who attend."

"Suspects?" Gibbs eyed Tim warily, wondering exactly how much caffeine the younger man had consumed. He could've sworn he'd seen his hands shaking.

"On it." Bishop jumped into action.

Jethro ran a hand over his face, looking at the screen with frustration. "Torres check the catering staff, see if any of them worked all three fundraisers." Taking a large swallow from his cup, he turned towards McGee. "Take a break, Tim."

The back elevator dinged in the quiet squad room.

She watched him pace, waiting for the first agent to give him something. She noted the limp and pushed it to the back of her mind to prod him about it later.

Ducky was still talking, recalling yet another obscene case. The old doctor had grabbed a hold of her arm, escorting her to the bullpen. The sight of one irritated Leroy Jethro Gibbs seemed to be the only thing to stop his narration.

"You done?" Jethro stopped, observing the two of them with narrowed eyes.

It didn't take much for her to ignore his gruffness. Brushing him off, she offered him a smile. She didn't miss Ducky's raised brow, or that all too familiar twinkle.

"Hello to you too." The aggressive stance towards her seemed to relax as he watched her, blue eyes sharp and questioning. "You guys have any leads?"

Nick trudged back from where he'd been leaning over Ellie's shoulder. "McGee connected our victims. All of them attended the same fundraisers or had reservations for the same fundraisers."

"Any connections between the different events?" Jack placed her file on Gibbs' desk.

"Waiting staff didn't check out." Ellie looked up from her computer screen, appearing far more dejected than before. "That leaves us with more than 200 possible suspects."

"You're saying our killer is a guest?!" Tim appeared out of no where, a small energy drink in hand.

Jack leaned her hip again Gibbs' desk, tapping her fingers against her lips in thought. She ran everything through her mind, trying to tie the new information to the profile. Looking up, she met his cobalt gaze tracing her features. He seemed to focus on her mouth, licking his own lips as he looked her in the eye.

They watched each other for a heartbeat, blocking out the bustle of the suddenly noisy squad room.

"He's sophisticated." Breaking eye contact, she regarded the rest of the team. "He's not picking his victims at random. All three men are military with various high ranks, but they come from wealthy backgrounds."

"That's a pretty large pool to pick from." Ellie looked at McGee who seemed to agree.

"Besides the obvious, what else did our victims have in common?" Ducky prompted, noting that they all seemed to be going in circles. "A habit perhaps, or a hobby-"

"Wait." Nick pulled a notepad closer, flipping through it furiously. "Everyone I interviewed said that our victims were..." He grimaced, not hiding his disgust in the least. "They were all openly romantic." He quoted from his notes.

"Like swingers?" McGee blurted.

"No!" Nick retaliated. "More like… they liked being all touchy in public."

Jack pursed her lips. "So perhaps a little voyeurism." Making a mental note to add it to the file later. "Any thoughts on how you are going to nail this guy?"

The level of exhaustion was at an all time high, she could see three pairs of droopy tired eyes stare at her for suggestions. She doubted any of them had gone home in the last three weeks, much less get more than two hours sleep.

"Bishop, Torres, you two head down to Kasie. Have her create backstopped IDs. McGee, get them on the guest list for the next fundraiser."

Gibbs finished off his coffee, not missing the fact his team didn't make a move to follow his orders. "Do I have to repeat myself?"

Turning around he found Jack right in front of him, soft curves tantalizingly close. He could smell her scent; something warm and spicy, reminding him of hot Mexican afternoons he'd spent on a beach. Brown eyes melted away the annoyance he felt.

"They're too young." She pressed a hand against his chest, trying to stop him from pushing passed her.

Ducky stepped forward, seeming to break the tension between the two. "Jacqueline is right, Jethro. Both agents Bishop and Torres are far too young. We mean that in the nicest way possible, but our killer has an inkling for older couples."

Jethro stiffened, picking up on where the old doctor was headed with his insight. "No." He gave him a glare for good measure. He could see the realization dawn on Jack's face.

"Ducky's right, Boss. All three couples were in their fifties, and besides no one is going to believe Nick's old enough to be an Admiral. No offense, Nick." Tim met Torres' affirmative nod.

Jethro shook his head. It was the only viable option they had left. He couldn't make out the flickering of emotion in Jack's suddenly guarded eyes. It meant risking her life, working blindly until they found their killer. It was going to be hell, hiding the feelings he'd harbored for so long while she was going to be wrapped around his arm.

"McGee, get us on that list and help Kasie with the IDs." He watched the woman in front of him closely, hoping she'd suggest something else. "Bishop and Torres, get yourselves on the waiting staff, we're gonna need back up."

"I hope you're right, Jack." He whispered just behind her ear.

Tim watched the interaction between the two closely. Snapping his eyes back to his screen, he waited for both of them to leave. Stretching in his chair, he caught Ducky's secretive smile as he disappeared behind the staircase. Narrowing his eyes, he found Nick and Ellie sharing a look.

"So..." Ellie started, twirling a pencil nonchalantly. "Gibbs and Jack."

"I'm betting fifty, that by the end of the night, those two will be breaking rule twelve." Nick waved a crisp note in the air, adding to the office pool.

McGee shook his head with a smile. Suddenly missing a certain Very Special Agent, who would've had a decent pool going by now. Tapping a few keys to make sure the guest list included the right people, he pushed back his chair ready to help Kasie. Making his way to the back of the bullpen, he suddenly stopped.

"Do they know that this fundraiser is going to be a four-day affair, and that they'll have to share a room?"

To Be Continued...