Ziva looked up from her desk as a crack of thunder echoed outside. It had been raining for almost two days straight and it showed no signs of stopping. Despite being almost 9:00am, the sky was still dark and grey. It was the kind of day that you just wanted to stay in bed with a warm blanket wrapped around you.

"No sign of McGee?" Tony asked as he entered, fresh from a coffee run. He was shaking a drenched umbrella, droplets flying every which way.

"He is not answering his cell phone and I have not received any e-mail from him to say he would be late."

"What did Gibbs say?"

"He said to let him know the minute we locate McGee."

"You know," he commented as he slid into his own chair, "McGee was going to that lecture thing on Saturday. With this weather, I wouldn't be surprised if he got caught somewhere."

"He would have called."

"Not if he's in an area without cell reception."

She sat back, considering this. "I still have a bad feeling about it."

"Look, McGee's done some growing up these past few years – thanks, in most part, to me, of course – so I'm sure he's fine."

"He could be lying in a hospital bed."

"They would have called us."

"Maybe he was in an accident and does not remember who he is."

"Stop being so melodramatic, Ziva. He's only been missing for two hours–"

"As far as we know!"

"–and we haven't found anything to indicate that the Probie is in trouble."

"We have now," Gibbs said, walking into the bullpen.

Both Ziva and Tony jumped up from their seats upon hearing their boss and, more importantly, hearing that there was cause for concern over their friend's safety. "What've we got?" Tony asked, a tone of fear creeping into his voice.

"Local LEOs found McGee's car abandoned in a rural area." Gibbs grabbed his own gear, and Ziva and Tony followed suit. "No sign of foul play, though."

"I told you I had a bad feeling," Ziva hissed into Tony's ear as they followed behind Gibbs.

Tim groggily opened his eyes, groaning as he tried to move his sore muscles. Lizzie lay beside him, her head resting on his chest. Her hair fell against his skin, tickling it. His fingers longed to scratch the skin – or simply push her off of him – but his hands couldn't reach any further than a few inches.

The previous night had been uncomfortable for Tim, even in comparison to the time he'd already spent with his somewhat unbalanced captor. Lizzie had brought down dinner for the both of them, consisting of overcooked pork, undercooked mashed potatoes, and mushy carrots. She even had gone so far as to dress up for the occasion, trading in her usual flannel garb for a shapeless, button-up dress that hung on her body like a coat hanging on a coat rack.

After their dinner, she had once again bound him to the bed posts as Fluffy stood by to make sure Tim didn't try anything. She had then settled in beside him and proceeded to read to him the first three chapters of Deep Six. When the bedtime story was done for the night, she turned off the lamp and snuggled down against his chest, promptly falling into a deep sleep. Tim had remained awake for almost an hour after Lizzie, due to both the discomfort of being tied up and her harsh snoring.

Now, he lay there pondering many things. Was it morning? Did the team know that he was missing yet? Would he stay here forever? Would Fluffy eventually break free from his leash and devour him?

A resounding snore from Lizzie pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced down and saw her beginning to wake.

"Morning," she mumbled as she sat up, stretching her muscles. Tim watched enviously, wishing he could stretch. "Sleep well?"

"No," he told her curtly. "Maybe if I hadn't been tied up."

"Well, it would have been cruel of me to ask Fluffy to stay awake all night and watch you."

Fluffy awoke, as though he knew he was being talked about. After a brief stretch of his own – which Tim was certain he was only doing to taunt him – the dog once again took his position at the foot of the stairs, snarling at Tim.

Lizzie shot her dog a sweet smile as she went about untying Tim. "I'll go get some breakfast started. Any requests?"

"My clothes."

Lizzie didn't respond. It seemed as though she was deliberately ignoring it. "I think I'll make you my special grits and biscuits."

She passed Fluffy, giving him a pat on the head. Halfway up the stairs, she stopped and looked over her shoulder to her prisoner. "Tonight I've got a special surprise for you."

"I can hardly wait," he muttered to himself, wrapping his blanket around his bare body.

The team pulled up behind a police car and piled out. Just in front of the police car was a silver Porsche that undoubtedly belonged to Tim. One of the officers caught sight of them and beckoned them over.

"I'm Lt. Rolands," he greeted, extending his hand. "You must be Agent Gibbs."

"What have you got?"

"Found this car at around 0600. I sent the license plate numbers in and they found out it belonged to one of your men." Rolands led them over to the car. "We haven't found anything to suggest that he was forced away. He may have had some car trouble, stopped, and caught a ride with someone."

"Any footprints?"

"None that we could see, but it's also been raining steadily for the past two days, so it's possible that the footprints were washed away."

Gibbs looked up at the rain that was still drizzling down upon them. This weather would make it nearly impossible to guess what might have happened. Anything that might have been there would likely have been washed away. "DiNozzo, I want you and Rolands to scope out the area. If you find anything, you let me know. David, start taking pictures."

As the two of them went about following his orders, Gibbs took it upon himself to examine the car. It was locked. If Tim had been taken by force, it's unlikely that he or his captors would have gone to the trouble of locking the car. He had most likely had car trouble, which is why he stopped here and left his car. The question was did he catch a ride with someone or did he go off searching for help?

"Why didn't he call?" Ziva asked.

"This area isn't the best for cell reception, ma'am," one of the officers said.

She shot the man a look for referring to her as "ma'am," but didn't say anything. Gibbs was rounding the car and she could see his mind was hard at work. "What are you thinking?"

He didn't even glance up at her. "Something's hinky."