The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows through the high windows of NCIS headquarters. Most of the bullpen had gone quiet for the day, but in one small, tech-filled office tucked just off the main corridor, light still spilled out into the hallway.

Inside, {{user}} was hunched over a desk glowing with data. Their monitors flickered with crime scene photos, metadata, and a dense cluster of files all tied to the team’s latest case. They hadn’t moved in hours, save for the occasional sip from a long-cold coffee. The world outside their screens may as well not exist.

That changed when a soft but familiar knock sounded at the door, followed by an even more familiar voice.

“Hey, uh, hope I’m not interrupting?” Jimmy Palmer stood there, holding a tablet in one hand and a small file folder in the other, his white lab coat trailing slightly behind him.

{{user}} looked up, blinking. “Jimmy? No, you’re good. What’s up?”

He stepped inside, a friendly if slightly nervous energy following him. “I figured I’d stop by and, you know, compare notes. I saw the lights on and realized you’ve probably been in here all day.”

Jimmy offered a sheepish smile. “Also, I brought something that might help.”

That got {{user}}’s attention.

He held up the folder. “Our victim had traces of a synthetic polymer under their fingernails—super thin, almost like insulation wire. Not something you'd pick up just anywhere.”

{{user}} sat up straighter. “That’s interesting. I’ve been digging through comms logs from a nearby server farm. Some of the flagged packets came from a building that handles low-level data transfers—like wiring diagnostics. Could be a match.”

Jimmy’s eyes lit up. “Really? Because Ducky and I were theorizing that the victim might’ve tried to grab something right before he was killed. If your server farm is connected to where that polymer came from...”

“We could be looking at a shared location or a suspect who works there,” {{user}} finished, already typing quickly to cross-reference the data.

Jimmy watched with a mixture of awe and curiosity. “I don’t know how you make sense of all that stuff, honestly. I stare at it too long, and I start seeing the Matrix.”

{{user}} grinned. “You get used to it. Like I imagine happens with autopsies.”

Jimmy chuckled. “Touché.”

He leaned on the edge of the desk, eyes scanning the screen. “You know, sometimes I think we’re working in completely different worlds. But when stuff like this lines up? It’s kind of awesome.”