Lizzie hummed along with the radio as she mixed the flour, butter, milk, and egg concoction that filled the bowl. Her mother's ancient cookbook sat open on the counter and every so often she would reference it. Smudges marred the page from where her grimy fingers had pressed, running down the lists of ingredients for each delicious dish.

Poppa had always raved about her mother's cooking, so Momma's cookbook was the most obvious reference point for her.

She'd always heard that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. So far, she knew her cooking had been lackluster. It was no wonder Thom was so reluctant to open himself up to her. Tonight, though, she would give him a meal he would never forget. The evening would start with her own interpretation of crawfish bisque – crawfish was out of the question, but there was no reason she couldn't substitute bits of bacon in its place. That would be followed by a leg of lamb – that leg had been sitting in the freezer for as long as she could remember and now was as good as anytime to cook it – served on a bed of lettuce with something called couscous. She would end the evening with chocolate cake and chocolate mousse. She even had an ancient bottle of wine standing by for the night, even though she didn't drink much.

The meal would be perfection, she knew. She would have Thom eating out of her hands…literally! Though, even if the dinner didn't do the trick, Lizzie had more up her sleeves…

"Oh, drat!" she hissed as the mixture spilled out on to her clothing. She was still wearing the dress she had donned the night before and the batter oozed along down the front. "Can't wear this now," she mumbled as she began un-buttoning it. She'd hoped to re-use the outfit, seeing as she had a limited number of dresses. With a sad sigh, though, she dropped the garment into the dirty clothes hamper. She was about to retrieve one of Poppa's old flannel shirts from her room when she caught sight of Tim's clothing lying by the fire. The clothing had dried the night before, though she hadn't let him know that. Now, though, it was just lying there, not being used.

Men like women wearing their clothing, she thought to herself as she pulled shirt on and began buttoning it up. It hung loosely on her and she had to roll the sleeves up to free her hands. Lizzie took a moment to reveal in the feeling of his clothing. His smell still clung to the shirt. Such a manly scent…

"Cake isn't going to bake itself," she chirped brightly as she returned to the kitchen area. Thom would love this…she'd make sure of it.

"So, how much area is there around here?" Tony asked as he walked behind Lt. Rolands. The two had spent almost half an hour searching through the woods for any sign of Tim. In that time, the rain hadn't eased up at all; in fact, it only seemed to have gotten heavier.

"Quite a lot, Agent DiNozzo."

"Any inhabitants?"

"Very few. Not many people appreciate the isolation of living in this area."

"If you had to venture a guess, though, how many would you say there are?"

Rolands paused to think about Tony's question. "The Hendersons live a bit further west. They're an elderly couple who moved here after he retired. Joe Mattheson does woodwork and he lives a little further down in this direction, but he's been gone for about a month so far as I know. And, of course, there's Lizzie Lowell. She lives pretty near here. A bit of a recluse, especially since her father died."

"That's it?"

"There are a few more homes you'll find spread out about the woods. I can't know them all, Agent DiNozzo."

Tony sighed. He stopped and looked at their surroundings. All he saw were trees. No sign of human life. "So where do we start?"

"We can check out Mattheson's place. If your agent was stranded here, he may have taken refuge in the empty house."

The rain and mud sloshed around them as they trod through the wooded area to where the house sat. Tony shivered, wishing he'd thought to bring his umbrella. Though, an umbrella would have only been a hindrance if he needed to pull out his gun for any reason.

"I hope McGee appreciates this," he grumbled, mostly as a means to ease his mind over his friend's disappearance. "These shoes cost me a fortune. And this coat is Armani!"

"You guys certainly get paid more than we do," Rolands mused. Despite Tony's seemingly disparaging demeanor, Rolands could see that he was worried. If venting about over-priced clothing helped ebb his nerves, then Rolands would let him.

"Lunch time!" Lizzie announced as she descended the stairs.

Tim looked up and his eyes bulged. "That's my shirt!"

"Do you like it?"

"I like it on me!"

Lizzie set down the plate – another bologna sandwich, this time paired with a Ding-Dong – and rolled her eyes. "Well, I certainly couldn't walk around naked, now could I?"

Tim was about to answer her, but then he shuddered. He didn't want her in his shirt, but it was better than her alternative.

"I'll get some of Poppa's clothes for you, if you insist."

Tim pouted and pulled the blanket around his body tightly. "I insist."

He looked at the food that had been plopped before him. Her earlier serving of grits and biscuits had been almost inedible and he was reluctant to eat any more of her cooking. Then again, the crappy breakfast had left him hungry. Besides, it was nearly impossible to mess up a sandwich and the Ding-Dong had come pre-made inside a cellophane wrapper. After only a bit of hesitation, Tim bit into the sandwich, almost moaning as he tasted it.

Lizzie grinned, enjoying his obvious enjoyment. "See? I told you that you would learn to love it here."

"I'm only enjoying this because I'm hungry," he muttered in protest. "I still want you to let me go." He finished up his sandwich and began nibbling on the cream filled treat.

"I have a feeling your feelings are going to change."

"Fat chance…"

Tim finished up his meal and leaned back against the bed. Lizzie watched in satisfaction as his eyes slowly began to droop, finally falling closed. His breathing became calm and steady.

Lizzie took the plate and kissed his forehead. "You sleep," she whispered as she walked out. "I'll need you rested up for tonight."

"There it is," Rolands announced, pointing toward a run-down house. Actually, it looked more like a shed than an actual house.

Tony peered through a grimy window, but it was impossible to tell if anyone was inside. The door was locked when he tried to open it, but considering how rusted the hinges were, it didn't take him long to break it down. "Doesn't look like anyone is here."

The home was completely covered in a film of undisturbed dust. A window had been broken in the back of the house and the glass still remained where it had fallen. Leaves, twigs, and bits of dirt had blown in through the open window and were strewn across the floor and various pieces of furniture.

"If your man was here, he managed to stay here without leaving a trace."

"I don't think even Gibbs is that untraceable, let alone McGee."

The two exited back into the rain, having checked one house off their list.

"Who else did you say lived around here?" Tony asked. The rain was pounding down on them harder and Tony had pulled his coat up over his head in a feeble attempt at covering himself.

"Lizzie Lowell is back over this way. She's kind of nutty, but she doesn't cause trouble. Her dog is a bit vicious, though."

"Does she welcome visitors?"

"Not as far as I know."

Above them, a bolt of lightening flashed, lighting up the sky. It was followed by a bellowing clap of thunder. Tony hoped they would find Tim soon…for everyone's sake.