A/N: So. This is it. The last few lines of what was supposed to be a short tag and turned into the longest story I've ever written. Big heartfelt thanks to everyone who took the time to read this and especially to those of you who left a kind word or a fav — it meant and still means the world to me.

The sun was up again, climbing slowly into the new day and sending fresh beams of bright warm light through the broad windows into the room. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of warmth on his face. A new day. Another new day. And another good one. The scream of a sea-gull, high-pitched and happy, broke through the soothing sounds of the waves crashing onto the shore, followed by the sound of children laughing and splashing into the water. A dog barked. Another sea-gull barked back. And then there were the waves again. Flowing onto the beach with the softest of sighs. Swish. Swoosh. Swish. Swoosh. Soothing. Relaxing. The sound had become familiar, even after a few days and it made the painful tension in his shoulders — which was the result of a sleepless night and quite worth it — flow out of his sore muscles and down into his arms. Once it had arrived there, he made a conscious mental effort to brush it out of his hands by flexing his fingers. His smile shifted into satisfaction and pleasure both at the memory of last night and the release of tension just now. That old muscle-relaxation technique still worked like a charm.

The dog barked again. The sea-gull barked back. The waves whispered into the bright morning. A new day. A brand new day. He felt good about this one. Really good. He was about to reach out to her and tell her about it, when a knock on the door cut through the laughter of the children and whispers of the waves and screams of the sea-gulls and his good mood.

He sighed. Tried to ignore the knock. Let his hand move closer. But the knock came a second time and his hand stilled for a moment, halfway to its destination. He sighed again and rolled his eyes and shoulders. This was really not a good time. When the knock — more insistent and close to morse code translating into something rather rude — came a third time, he gave up, drew his hand back and called:

"Yes?"

The door opened and the head of a short, stocky woman appeared.

"Housekeeping?"

He frowned, then said with a polite shake of the head:

"I'm sorry, this is most inconvenient right now. Did you not notice the Do-not-disturb-sign on the door?"

The woman flashed him an insecure and apologetic smile and cringed a little, drawing up her shoulders and pulling the door protectively against her.

"I did, Sir, but, if you don't mind me saying so, it's been inconvenient for the past two weeks. I'm sorry I disturb you, but you have to let me do this today, before it gets completely out of hand. Otherwise I'll be obliged to call the duty-…"

He sighed, registering the sudden confidence in the tone of her voice and the way her hand was now gripping the door-handle tight — not to draw it shut, but to open it wider. Both of which meant that there was no way he could talk her out of it in an acceptable time-frame.

So he did what he always did.
The smart thing.
Which, in this case, was to give in.

"Alright. Alright. Come in, if you must."

The waves rolled against the shore.
The dog barked.
The sea-gull barked back.

A mouse-button clicked.

And the room fell silent.

The fingers that had flexed before to relieve the tension now waved it back in — along with the stocky woman currently still balancing herself and assorted items needed for the execution of her task, on the threshold of the door. For a moment it seemed as if she might keel over, but she'd caught her balance again and crossed the room with three mighty steps, before dumping everything in her arms on his desk.

Dennis Abbott was sure he felt the lenses of his glasses shake in the frame for a moment. He drew his hand back from where it had almost reached his phone and pushed his glasses up his nose, then gave the woman standing on the other side of the mountain of paperwork an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, Doris, I haven't tried to avoid you, we've been rather busy these past two weeks. We've been a bit short-staffed for a while, as you know."

"No need to apologise, Dennis", she said, glancing at the CD on the desk. The label read "Sounds of nature, volume 3: The ocean".

"I knit when I'm stressed", she offered, then gave a short, almost girly giggle. Somehow he knew she was picturing him knitting his way through a striped pink and white baby sock. He raised an eyebrow at her and she shook her head.

"Okay, probably not a helpful way of stress relief in the work-place, when you're supposed to be a figure of authority", she admitted.

She carefully settled in the chair on the other side of his desk. All he could see of her now, was a few curls of grey hair sticking out on top of the files. She made a tiny distressed sound as she realised her error. Abbott smiled and moved the stack of files carefully to his left, until he could at least see half of her face again. His patience was born out of practice. 15 years of practice. They went back a long way, he and the sweet, clumsy woman from admin.

She noticed him looking at his cell phone on the desk and said.

"I'm sorry, if you're expecting an important call, I can come back in a couple of minutes."

He blinked. "No, I was just about to call my wife, but it can wait. So."

He leaned forward and folded his hands on his desk.

"What can I do for you, Doris?"

She cleared her throat, then pointed at the stack of files.

"We need to sweep the dust off these today, supervising agent Abbott. Travel expenses for the last four weeks. Most are straight forward and only require your signature and not your supervision, although…"

She stabbed a finger at the file on the top.

"There is one that is rather odd."

Abbott raised his eyebrows.

"Oh. Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Odd how?"

She slid the file down on his side of the mountain of papers and he caught it just in time before it could float of his desk.

"See for yourself."

He took it, opened the folder and read the sheet of paper inside. Then he looked over both the rim of this glasses and the edge of the folder at Doris.

"And what exactly is wrong with this?"

He pushed the file towards her. She pointed a finger accusingly at a line.

He frowned. "Ah. I see. But the amount is correct?"

"Yes."

He shrugged, folded his hands on top of the file, then unfolded them in an wide open gesture suggesting he didn't see this as a problem.

"Then that is probably just a simple clerical error. It happens often enough. Can we still accept this?"

"We can. If you, as supervising agent, have no objections."

"I don't. Probably just a mistake. But thank you, Doris, for being so thorough and for pointing it out."

She got up and raised an eyebrow, thereby telling him that flattery and politeness would get him nowhere. She pointed again at the stack of files.

"I need these approved and signed by the end of the day, Dennis."

He leaned back, crossed his hands in front of his chest and nodded at her.

"You will find them approved and signed on your desk at the end of the day", he reassured her.

"Thank you", Doris said and turned to leave. Her hand was already on the door-handle when she turned back around to look at Abbott, a curious frown on her face.

"Dennis?"

"Hm?"

"That hotel? It sounds familiar. Wasn't that the place where you and your wife went on your honeymoon? The one where you had your own private beach?"

He was already pulling out a file from the middle of the stack and didn't look up, just raised an eyebrow in surprise, then whisked the file in question back in front of him, to take another look at it. He made a surprised sound.

"Oh. You're right. It is."

He shook his head. "I remember the interior design was a nightmare, but having your own private beach all to yourself? That was really worth it."

"Romantic?"

"Oh yes, it was. Very. And not that expensive. Which was, at the time, a very important factor."

He frowned again, but a smile appeared on his lips now.

"I'll have to ask Jane or Lisbon later if that jetty is still there."

"They are back already?"

"Since last Thursday. Actually…"

He glanced at the clock, then frowned.

"… they should have been here ten minutes ago. They are both late."

Doris grinned at him.

"Funny coincidence, isn't it?"

Abbott raised his eyebrows again.

"Both of them being late?"

She laughed and shook her head.

"No. A lot of people are late this morning. Big rush-hour traffic jam downtown. I mean: Them ending up at that hotel. Funny, isn't it?"

Abbott got up and went to the door with her to see her out.

"Quite, Doris. Quite."

She stepped out into the corridor, turned after a few steps and waved a short good-bye to him. He waved back, then closed the door again. Abbott sat down behind his desk once more, opened the file and scrawled his signature across the "approved by"-line.

Then he pressed the left mouse-button.

The waves and the sea-gulls chuckled happily out of the speakers once more, while Dennis Abbott leaned back, crossed his hands behind his head, gave a soft satisfied huff and smiled a knowing smile.

THE END

A/N: Done! I can't believe it! It's done. Wheeeee! *throws writing notes like confetti*. Thanks for sticking with it until the end and I so hope you liked it!