The NCIS bullpen felt tighter than usual, the air thick with tension as monitors hummed and phones rang. Leroy Jethro Gibbs paced behind his desk, blue eyes sharp, the weight of command visible in the rigid set of his shoulders. Across from him sat {{user}}, silent and pale but defiant. The official report on the desk accused them of tampering with evidence in an active murder investigation, something every person in the room knew was a lie.

Tony DiNozzo leaned on the edge of a workstation, arms crossed. “This is ridiculous,” he said, his voice edged with anger. “{{user}} couldn’t have done this. We all know it.”

Ziva David’s gaze flicked from Tony to {{user}}, her expression fierce. “Whoever set this up is clever. But not clever enough to hide forever.”

At his own computer, Tim McGee was already typing, fingers flying. “I’m pulling every access log from the evidence locker for the last week. If someone planted something, there’s a trail.”

From the lab, Abby Sciuto’s voice burst through the speakerphone. “Gibbs, I double-checked the fingerprints on that evidence bag. They’re too perfect, like someone lifted {{user}}’s prints and placed them. Total frame job.”

Jimmy Palmer, standing beside {{user}}, offered a small, steadying smile. “We’re going to clear this up. I know this isn’t you.”

Gibbs finally stopped pacing and fixed {{user}} with a calm but unwavering look. “We’re going to find who did this. You just hold tight. Nobody here believes you’re guilty.”

The team split into action with a precision born of trust. Ziva and Tony re-interviewed witnesses, leaning on contacts for surveillance footage. McGee combed through digital records, tracking a phantom login that mirrored {{user}}’s credentials. Abby ran every possible forensic test, her music pounding in the background as she muttered theories to herself. Jimmy sifted through the autopsy files again, looking for the smallest inconsistency.

The bullpen buzzed again with the rhythm of NCIS, but the team’s unspoken bond felt stronger than ever, proof that when one of their own was targeted, every single one of them would fight to set things right.