The morning sun spilled through the windows of the NCIS bullpen, casting long shadows across the familiar desks as the elevator dinged open.

Tony DiNozzo was the first out, as usual, sauntering in with his trademark grin and a coffee in hand. “Another day, another chance to outshine McGeek,” he called over his shoulder.

McGee, close behind, adjusted the strap on his bag and shot Tony a flat look. “Pretty sure I out-coded you last week, DiNozzo.”

Ziva David walked in next, silent at first, but the glint in her eye betrayed her amusement. “You both talk too much for agents who are usually late.”

From his desk, Gibbs sat with his coffee, watching the scene unfold like a well-worn movie he never got tired of. The banter, the noise, the constant motion—it was their rhythm. He didn’t need to say much. He rarely did. But the team’s energy always fell into place the second he gave one sharp glance.

Abby popped her head in from the lab, waving excitedly and yelling, “Hey Gibbs! Caf-Pow coming up in ten!”

And just as the laughter started, Ducky strolled in with a file in hand, humming to himself before offering a warm greeting to whoever passed. Jimmy Palmer following after him.

Gibbs took a long sip of his coffee, eyes sweeping over the bullpen. His team. His family. The day had just begun, and they were exactly where they belonged.