I have just given a rundown of where I am with the things that I am writing at the moment in my profile, so for any queries as to what is going to be finished and when, go check there first, please.

Okay, also, I have a whole load of mostly-unfinished episode tags, mostly under 400 words, that I was wondering whether I should post. I feel like I will never actually get around to finishing them, or that I do not know how to finish them, so I was just wondering what you all thought. To post, or not to post, that is the question.

I think I have messed my numbers and dates and ages up in this somewhere, but I cannot quite figure out where.

Not sure I like how this chapter turned out.

…

7. A Well Respected Man ~ The Kinks

In his still sleep hazy mind, the absence of a body curled into his did not bother him, but as he blinked slowly, staring at the fresh indent in the white pillow, and inhaled deeply, breathing in the lingering scent of jasmine and patchouli, a heavy, unnerving feeling settled in his chest. He sat up, stretching as he took in his surroundings, the room he and Ziva had stayed in. It was lighter this morning, the curtains having been pulled open, allowing grey light to seep into the corners that had been dark and in shadow the night before. Two of the walls were sloping, meeting at the apex of the wall with the window. On the wall opposite, closer to the side of the bed his companion had slept, the door to the bathroom was wide open, whilst the door to the bedroom was closed, he presumed locked as they had left it last night.

There was no sign of his partner and his stomach churned. They were staying one room down from a suspected serial killer and she had gone missing at the crack of dawn. He checked his watch on the bedside cabinet, taking a moment before his brain registered the time: 0630hrs.

He rubbed his eyes and rolled out of bed, looking through out of the window. From the angle, he could see the path they had taken down to the inn yesterday afternoon as well as the lake below. Puddles filled the cracked path and the grass looked muddy, clear signs of the rains the day before. He grumbled, walking over to his bag and pulling out a turtleneck and jeans. If it was going to be as cold and miserable as yesterday, he was not going to be happy.

He was about to turn the shower on when his nervous concern for Ziva grew too much, so he tugged his clothes on and grabbed the metal key from the dresser, unlocking the door and relocking it again as he left. The inn felt completely still and each creak of the wooden floor as he made his way along the hallway and down the narrow staircase made him jump.

"Morning, Mr Ward," Tony must have leapt at least a foot in the air as he rounded the corner into the bar that seemed to be the main room downstairs. The three tables were laid for breakfast, all empty, whilst Hattie stood behind the bar drying glasses.

"Hi."

"Your girl's gone for a run 'round the lake. Pretty little thing."

"Yeah," He nodded slowly. "Did she say when she'd be back?"

The older woman shrugged. "Any time 'round now," she leant to the side and peered out of the window across the room, "matter 'fact, I think that might be her now."

The heavy wooden door was pushed open a moment later and Ziva slipped through, allowing it to thump shut again. She smiled over at Hattie before noticing Tony. "Hey. I was worried."

"Well, you should not have been. I am fine."

"You could have left a note," he was not truly angry, just upset that she had made him worry unnecessarily.

"Sorry, I…" she shrugged. "It slipped my mind," she had been in such a rush to get out of there after waking in his arms that she had barely even paid attention to the fact that she had not taken the room key with her. She gave him a tight smile as she hovered by the door.

He shook his head, "it's okay. You never normally do. Just, waking up in a different place without you where you were supposed to be, it threw me. How was it?"

"We need more places like this at home. I am out of practice."

It was only then that he noticed that her chest was beginning to slow down from its rapid rise and fall and that there were a few beads of sweat on her brow. He knew Ziva, and he knew how good she was at running, or at least how good she had been. She used to be able to outrun him without even breaking a sweat, but judging by how she appeared now, he wondered whether the summer had had more of an effect on her physical health than she let on. He narrowed his eyes slightly. "How far did you go?"

"I would say around four miles. I went around the lake, along a track on the other side, and then back around the lake a second time."

"You never used to have a problem with anything under five miles."

"Eight, actually," she looked away, "to be honest, ten was not that bad most mornings – weather permitting. It is the surface here – it is uneven and uphill half the time." He was not convinced, but shrugged, reaching out as she moved past him and snagging her waist. "What are you doing? I need a shower."

"Don't care," he murmured, dropping a quick kiss on her lips before kissing his way up her jawline to her ear. "She was looking suspicious."

"Mhmm," she chuckled, as if he had whispered some funny, private joke in her ear. "I need to shower, then we can have breakfast?"

"Okay. What time's the estate agent going to be here?"

"Half eight I think she said."

"Okay, Love."

"Hi, you must be Liam and Leila. Yvonne Flemming from the estate agents," she stuck her hand out to Ziva with a warm smile. Her raven hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, the tips reaching halfway down her back, and her pale skin contrasted with the bold red lips. A thick white belt defined the black pencil dress and Tony could hardly help his eyes from raking over the smooth curves.

"Hi there," Tony was not even going to try to argue that the elbow he received to the gut was unwarranted.

"Excuse my fiancé. Shall we get started?" Ziva's tone was curt and her words clipped as they stood outside the inn. There was a mutual agreement and they headed up the path, stepping around the puddles that obstructed their way.

Tony merely smirked, snaking his arm around Ziva's waist and bringing his lips close to her ear. "Jealous, Zee-vah?"

She pushed his face away, wrinkling her nose. "No, because I have not made it my life goal to be leered at by creepy older men."

"I'm not that much older than you."

"Around ten years," she shrugged, "besides, I was actually talking about her – she looks about sixteen."

"24, actually, though what my age has to do with anything I do not know," Yvonne smiled tensely at Ziva as they all climbed into her black car.

"Wow, 24. You're young to be a police officer."

"Detective Constable, actually. And I just knew what I want and knew what I needed to do to get there."

"Well, Detective Constable, I think it's amazing that you have done gotten so far so quickly…" Ziva rolled her eyes as he continued to flatter their undercover contact. She was not jealous, no, she just thought Tony should keep his head in the game and not go off chasing girls, particularly when he was supposed to be pretending to be her fiancé.

"Agent David, have I done something wrong?" They were waiting in the reception of the police station whilst Tony went to the bathroom and the silence between the two females had been palpable.

"No, I just think that we are on a dangerous mission and Tony needs to keep focused. You distracting him is not going to help matters."

The younger woman scoffed. "Distracting him? In what way was I distracting him?"

"Leading him on. Look, just…do not flirt with him so much? You could try dressing slightly more conservatively around him, maybe?"

"I wasn't flirting, I was conversing, like a normal person. And I'll wear what I like."

Ziva pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, I have been doing this for a lot longer than you have, and I really advise that you tone down what you are wearing. It will not look good to the outside world if it is seen that my fiancé is more attracted to you than to me whilst we are looking for a house."

"Doing what? Trying to get Agent DiNozzo or working undercover?"

"I am not 'trying to get' Agent DiNozzo!" Ziva grit her teeth, blushing deep scarlet as the reception fell silent and every single officer, detective and civilian stared at her. Tony cleared his throat from where he stood behind her and she whirled around. "Tony, I…"

"You okay?" His face was unreadable as he studied her for a moment - her head bowed, her cheeks red and her hands clasped in front of her - before looking around the station. "Okay, nothing to see here people, just an American and an Almost-American learning that England is a lot quieter than we're used to."

She was surrounding him; back mere millimetres from his torso and fingers brushing as they leant against the desk. And if that was not bad enough, her wild mane of curls was tickling his nose with every breath he took, inhaling the sweet scent of the jasmine and patchouli that had been on the bed sheets when he had woken, and suddenly his focus on the case was gone completely and the only think he could think was: 'Jesus, Ziva, you smell good.'

Four pairs of eyes swivelled to stare at him and he turned bright red as he realised he had said it out loud, and not quietly. He grinned nervously and scratched his head, wondering if the Brits were going to put him on their list of creeps to look out for.

"Anyway…" The detective inspector overseeing the case turned back to Yvonne's computer whilst the constable on the desk across looked back to his work. Yvonne coughed as Ziva covered her face.

"Um…the driver that took us to the village mentioned that there were stories of murders dating back since he was a child, is there any evidence backing the stories up?"

The constable and inspector looked between one another for a long moment before turning back to the two Americans. "Every village has its ghost stories. And every village has a murder or two scattered through its history," the inspector shuffled uncomfortably on his feet.

Ziva narrowed her eyes. "So there are grounds for the stories?"

"Well…"

"Either there are or there aren't."

"There were a string of murders in the late-sixties and early-seventies. Throats slit with a straight razor. There were also a couple of disappearances when the case started to progress. We started to crack down and our killer went underground."

"So you never made any arrests?" Ziva looked at him sceptically, rolling her eyes when they fidgeted. "Did you have any suspects?"

"One. But according to the file, he left town as soon as we started investigating him. Completely dropped off the map. Nobody has heard of him since," Yvonne hit a button, bringing up an old photo that had, somewhere along the way, been digitalised.

"Anything tying him to Andrew?"

"No."

"Andrew could be a copycat?" Tony suggested.

"Then why add the strangling? It would fit the profile more that he is being tutored by the original killer," Yvonne shrugged. "I don't know how much further we're going to get with this today. It's getting late. I'll give you both a lift back?"

"Yeah, thanks," Tony nodded, grinning at the young detective. Ziva rolled her eyes at how enthusiastic he was at getting a lift back to the inn from Yvonne.

"Well, I think I am going to need a glass of water before we go. It is a long drive and I am getting a headache."

"You okay?" Her partner frowned, concern lining his features.

"Just dehydrated," she shrugged as she followed the detective inspector to the water dispenser across the office.

"Is there…you and Agent David, is there anything there, between you?"

"What?!" Tony stared at Yvonne, eyes wide.

"I just- you two seem close, and she seems a little possessive. And earlier today, with sniffing her hair…?"

"There is nothing between myself and Agent David. We are…colleagues. Friends, even. But nothing more than that," it was not an out and out lie, not really a manipulation of the truth at all – there was nothing between them – but that did not stop the guilt he felt about lying, "why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering, you know. Just making sure I wouldn't be getting in the way of anything."

Tony laughed, "who says anything is going to happen?"

"Nobody. I was just wondering if you want to go for a drink after this whole thing's over with."

"Well…" he blew air through his lips. "I mean…I don't see why not. It will probably depend on how much time we get to stay here after we wrap the case up, but yeah, that would be good."

"Great. Well, I'll be here," there was a slight smugness to her smile as she looked him up and down.

…

That last line has been bothering me since I wrote it, but I have not been able to fix it and see any other way of finishing it. The whole thing has been bothering me, really.

I was actually going to post this hours ago, I do not know what happened…