Tim opened the door of her apartment, the keys feeling like a lead weight in her hand, her body aching all over.

It was only 6pm and yet it was very nearly pitch black outside. She had made her way into her apartment block by the light of the street lamps and the occasional passing car.

She pushed open her door and fumbled for the light switch on the wall. It took several attempts but finally her fingers landed on the switch and her hallway light blazed brightly. Tim hardly had the chance to drop her bag and put her keys in the inside lock before she was attacked by a large body made of fur and bad breath.

She collided hard with the wall as the German Shepherd pounced at her, whining in welcome and panting his doggy breath right into her face.

She laughed as the weight of his sudden greeting brought her to her knees and squealed when his wet nose found its way through her scarf to her already shilled skin.

"Hello, sweetie," she crooned, stroking the excited animal wherever she could reach and burying her face into his neck, "Who's been a good boy today?" she asked and he backed away from her to perform an awkward full-turn and bark at her in answer.

"I bet you have," she praised, getting to her feet and walked the few feet to her living room.

"Who is the smartest puppy in the whole of Washington?" she asked the dog as he bounced around her as she placed her side-arm into the lockable drawer in her writing desk.

She made the mistake of sitting down and groaned happily as her whole body turned to goo on impact.

It had been a long and hard case with poor Jethro only seeing the dog walker for the past three days and Tim not even getting a chance to shower. Oh a shower. A warm, amazing shower. Clean hair. And a warm…cozy…bed.

Her head began to droop where she had it balanced on her hands and it was only the feeling of a heavy head landing on her lap that stopped her from falling asleep where she sat.

Jethro whined and she recognised that look of desperation on his furry face.

"I'm sorry, Jethro. I'll just get changed and then we'll go for a walk,"

Tim dragged herself from the chair and stretched making a quick detour to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and to set her kettle boiling.

Within ten minutes Tim was in her jogging gear (plus several more layers to combat the cold) and clutching a leash in one hand she shoved her phone into her pocket and picked up the disposable cup filled with coffee.

"Who's ready for a walk? Who's ready?" she asked her dog who barked at her, just in case she hadn't realised he was the one currently needing to do his business.

Jethro being the well behaved gentleman that he was sat patiently while she locked her door and zipped her keys into her empty pocket.

He also waited while she gave the light beside her door a hard whack and the bulb spluttered to life. She had left her hallway light on to save any fumbling upon their return and now the walk up the steps would be a bit easier and not so gloomy.

"Ok, boy, let's go"

It was a five minute walk to the local park and by the time they reached the grassy-doggy haven she had finished her coffee - the warmth seeping into her wonderfully and bringing her a whole new wave of energy – and Jethro had already made use of more than one fire hydrant and lamp.

"Here we are," she released him from the leash and watched him gallop off a few meters to a tree and begin sniffing.

She pressed all of her pockets and sighed in relief when she felt the crinkle of the bags to pick up after him come from her inner pocket.

The park was well lit against the darkness and as it was still pretty early she passed more than one couple or jogger who she exchanged nods and smiles with.

Tim walked at a steady pace, swinging the leash to and fro with each step she took and finally binned her empty cup when she realised she was still carrying it.

"You really are tired, Tim" she muttered to herself, shaking her head to dispel the slight sleepiness that still assaulted her brain despite the boost provided by the coffee. They had been granted three days leave and she had never been gladder of it.

Tony would be out trawling for a fling he could brag about upon his return to work.

Ziva would be…sharpening her knives or something equally intimidating.

Gibbs would no doubt be drinking bourbon and working on his boat.

And Tim, well, she would have an excellent night's sleep once she got home. Flick a duster around her apartment and do some writing and then –

"Hey!"

The sudden shout had her focusing on the here and now and she looked around in a panic trying to locate Jethro. Automatically she unzipped her jacket and began to fumble for the bags. Since becoming a dog owner she knew that park-goers had a tendency to get a bit tetchy upon spying a squatting dog.

She found Jethro under the next streetlamp, pawing at the leg of one of a group of men.

She jogged forward, withdrawing her hand from her pocket.

Looked like a pick-up was going to be avoided for the moment.

"Jethro!"

The dog looked up at her, whined piteously and went back to pawing at the denim leg.

"Hey. Get your dog under control, lady," the man growled harsher than she had ever heard Jethro.

She quickly grabbed him by the collar and dragged him away, still whining like a puppy, when she saw the man's other leg go backwards, ready to land a kick.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed, the effort it took to move the dog quickly winding her slightly, especially as he was constantly trying to get back to the man.

She turned them about so she stood between Jethro and the man with the keen leg. Sure she had shot the animal on their first meeting but no one was going to kick him! Besides there had been extenuating circumstances in her case.

"I don't know what's got into him. He only ever acts like this when…" she trailed off slowly when her mind caught up with her mouth.

She struggled to get the leash hooked back onto Jethro's collar and tried to take in everything she could about the men in the light of the orange lamp.

There were four of them. Big men. Hats pulled low over their heads, shading their eyes from her.

The sight of a suspiciously familiar lump under one of the group's jacket had her fingers itching to reach for the weapon she knew she didn't have.

The knife.

Thank you Gibbs and your rules.

Planting a knife somewhere on her person had become so much of a habit that she hadn't even thought about it when she tucked it into the top of her socks.

"When what?" one of the men snapped eyeing both her and her dog with a suspicion she did not like.

"I'm sorry again, gentlemen," she spoke steadily, straightening from reattaching Jethro to the leash and tugging him away, "Come on you, time to go home,"

Quickly.

What had been a pleasantly quiet walk – even in the dark – suddenly became eerie as she forced herself to walk away steadily and then begin a slow jog.

"Hey! You!"

Tim ran.

Jethro the doggy is back. YAY! The joys of dog ownership. You spend countless hours chasing bad guys and you still have to take the pooch for a walk when you get home ;)

This is set entirely separately from anything to do with the Owen Grady stuff – sorry there will be no guest appearances. :(

I am sorry again that I haven't been able to reply to any reviews. Crazy life continues to be crazy unfortunately. But thanks again for all the comments. :)

I really hope you have all had an enjoyable and safe weekend and that the week to come treats you well. :)

See you tomorrow with part 2.

Please drop a line and let me know what you think :)