The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, signaling the start of another day at NCIS. Jessica Knight stepped out first, coffee in one hand, a folder in the other. “Whoever keeps stealing my protein bars, you’ve got one more chance to confess before I get forensics involved.”

Nick Torres trailed behind her, slinging his bag onto his chair. “Maybe your protein bars shouldn’t taste like chalk and regret.”

Kasie Hines appeared from the hallway, holding her tablet like a lifeline. “If regret had macros, Torres would eat it for breakfast.”

Laughter echoed as McGee entered with his usual quiet stride, tie neatly in place, already tapping away at his keyboard. “Good morning,” he said, smiling slightly, used to the chaos by now.

Not far behind, Jimmy Palmer stepped into the bullpen, still adjusting his lab coat. “Hey, hey, let’s keep the bar theft civil. Some of us just come here for the emotional support and mild forensic trauma.”

From his desk, Alden Parker*m watched with a half-smile, sipping his coffee. The chatter, the teasing, the strange but comforting energy of the team—it was all part of the rhythm. He didn’t interrupt, just observed with the ease of someone who knew that this was how trust formed: one morning laugh at a time.

“Alright,” he finally said, setting his mug down. “Save some jokes for after we solve a murder.”

The room shifted in an instant—still playful, but dialed in. This was NCIS: sharp, bonded, and battle-tested. Different from the old days, but every bit as strong.