Chapter 1 - The Question (post Collateral Damage)

Wallowing in an uncharacteristically gloomy mood, Abby spent most of a rainy Friday evening climbing inside a tub of chocolate ice cream and washing it down with far too much wine. Therefore, the knock on Abby's apartment door late in the evening wasn't initially welcome.

Another tough week had left her feeling more than usually tired and depressed, which was a reflection of the stress and pace of recent months. Jenny's death, closely followed by the disbanding of Gibbs' team, their gradual return and the hunt for the mole within NCIS, culminated in Langer's death and apparent unmasking. The last months had left them all drained, however seasoned they might be, and Abby had found herself with no appetite for her usual Friday night relaxation of clubbing with friends... either that or she was finally showing her age.

Emerging from the shower intent on finishing the wine and getting thoroughly drunk, her first thought on hearing the knock was surprise that anyone was out in the deluge which was forecast to continue well into Saturday. Her prepared grumble faded, however, as she peered through the spyhole to see a familiar silhouette outside.

"Gibbs, what brings you here so late?" she asked as soon as she opened the door.

"Need to talk to you, Abbs," he explained, as she stood back to let him in

He looked drenched, even in the short walk from his car. Holding up a bottle of his usual bourbon almost as a peace offering, he moved past Abby into her apartment. Catching her usual scent overlaid with her shampoo, he only belatedly registered that she was dressed in a loosely fastened, red silk robe peppered with small white skulls and realized, somewhat to his dismay, that she was fresh from the shower.

He glimpsed the straps of a satin camisole peeking out where the robe was slipping off one shoulder and black pyjama pants completed a tempting ensemble. Her hair tumbled about her shoulders, still damp and curling slightly from the steam of the shower, making his fingers itch to bury themselves in the black mass.

Finding it hard to resist Abby even when most of her was hidden under a lab coat and he was stone cold sober, he knew he was fighting a losing battle in his current state. He swallowed a moan as his senses reacted to the sight and smell of her. Wanting to cut and run before his bourbon-drenched libido took over but not able to think up a suitable excuse for such a sudden exit, he walked rapidly into her living room, opting to put some distance between them as he tried to calm himself.

Following him, Abby reached for his overcoat, unable to stop her nose wrinkling as the scent of cigarette smoke reached her. By way of explanation, he offered that he'd been to the bar just outside the Navy Yard; the one where photos of agents lost in the line of duty occupied one wall, 'The Fallen'.

Returning after hanging up his coat to dry, she handed him a towel, conscious that water was dripping from his hair, chasing down his face and soaking into his shirt collar. Mesmerized by a few drops traveling down his strong neck, she resisted the urge to grab him and follow their path with her lips and tongue.

Get a grip, Scuito…

… her inner slut immediately sat up and begged… Gladly.

She had to get out of there before she did something to embarrass them both and retreated to the kitchen.

She frequently had to refrain from wrestling Gibbs to the floor of her lab on a good day. Being tired and with a fair amount of booze inside her made her defenses against him almost non-existent. She wasn't sure if he was aware of the effect he had on her; sometimes she thought she caught a reflection of the same heat in his gaze that she was sure must be written all over her face. They'd been the closest of friends for years but coping with the stress of the past months had seen them gradually drifting closer. She had begun to hope that perhaps they could become more than friends, but hadn't yet plucked up the courage to do anything about it.

Trying to focus more on why he was here rather than the fact that he was, she collected two glasses from the kitchen. She returned to find Gibbs, head in his hands, sitting on her couch. He looked so drawn and tired that she couldn't resist touching his shoulder in concern as she sat down beside him.

"Are you okay, Gibbs?"

She knew the grief over Jenny's death was still very fresh, coupled with the lingering stress from losing his team. He had missed his A team, his family, and especially Tony and Ziva, as much as she had. At least McGee had still been on the Navy Yard, if not a member of his team. Dealing with their less than impressive replacements had only served to point up just how effective were her three musketeers. When Vance had revealed the reasons behind reassigning his original team and then effectively dumped the mole hunt in Gibbs' lap, events had led swiftly to the unveiling of Langer as the mole and his death at the hands of Agent Lee.

As if that hadn't been enough to cope with, Gibbs had then experienced a personal betrayal by a friend, Senator Kiley. Trust and loyalty were an integral part of Gibbs' moral code and the Senator and his wife had brazenly exploited their friendship, and she knew that their actions had wounded him deeply. As strong as he was, she saw that Gibbs was hurting and was, above all, virtually exhausted, both mentally and physically.

The only bright spot in the past dark months was his reunion with his father. The interlude in Stillwater was also one of Abby's fondest recent memories; she'd grown very fond of Jackson even in the short space of time she'd known him.

Gibbs raised his head at her gentle touch, gave her a half smile, and reached up to squeeze her hand before pouring them both a shot of bourbon.

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

"Not hungry," came the weary reply, as he reached for his glass and downed it in one shot.

Judging by the aroma of smoke and alcohol hovering around him, this wasn't his first bourbon of the evening. She resisted the temptation to follow suit and just sipped her drink. Although she suddenly felt the need for some Dutch courage to cope with his nearness, she knew from experience that mixing her drinks usually provoked the hangover from hell the next morning.

Taking a stab which she hoped was not quite in the dark as to why he'd spent the evening at that particular bar, she asked hesitantly, "Were you there just to pay your respects to everyone … or were you there for another reason?"

He gazed at her, clear blue eyes intense, not sure how to begin. "Just adding Langer's photo to the memorial wall."

Ah…so that's it, she thought.

"Your gut's churning, isn't it?" she continued.

"Something like that."

He wasn't anywhere near drunk but two bourbons on an empty stomach was having a faster, mellowing effect than usual. He was also finding her closeness and scent more than usually distracting.

"You don't think Langer was the mole, do you?" she ventured softly, turning to face him, knees almost touching.

Not altogether surprised she'd either made such an intuitive guess or worked it out for herself already, he shook his head, "No, I don't, Abbs."

Meeting her worried green eyes and pouring himself a refill, he told her, "Langer had many faults as an agent and as a man but a traitor?" Gibbs shook his head, "No, I don't think so. He was handed to us on a plate, all too neatly."

Sipping his drink this time, he finished almost too quietly for her to hear him, "He didn't deserve this."

Thinking through the events surrounding Langer's death and the past weeks, she didn't like where her thoughts were heading. Too restless to stay seated, she resorted to her usual thinking technique and leapt up and started to pace, her hands gesturing animatedly. She succinctly summarized everything that had happened with Langer and the steps that had led them all to believe that he was the mole, but she approached it from a different angle; the one that had begun to haunt him in recent weeks.

He followed her with his eyes, drawn to her swaying hips, her silky outfit rustling as she moved. He allowed himself a small smile as he realized the only thing missing from this familiar picture of her thinking aloud was her boots making her bounce and her flying pigtails. The tie holding her robe loosened with her energetic pacing, gaping open, letting him glimpse how snugly the camisole hugged her curves. Becoming uncomfortable with this reminder of how enticing a figure she presented, he dragged his eyes up to her face, determined not to let his gaze wander further.

Concentrate Gunny.

Seemingly oblivious to the effect she was having, she wound down in her summary. He watched her connect the dots as she thought aloud, impressed as always at the speed of her analytical brain.

"So, Langer was set up to be the patsy?" She paused briefly, looking over to him and he inclined his head in agreement at her intuitive logic. Resuming her pacing, she continued, "So if you follow that thought through to its logical conclusion, the obvious person to set him up is the one who shot him."

She sat back down beside him with a resigned sigh. "You think it's Michelle, don't you?" sipping her drink and feeling the strong liquor burn down her throat as the implications of what she'd said hit home.

"Maybe..." Gibbs hesitated and then seemed to reach a decision, "Yeah, I do but proving it is another matter."

Her response was immediate. "Then how do we flush her out?"

"We?" He was rueful as that's exactly why he was here, to gain her support and help.

"Sure. That's why you're here, isn't it, Gibbs? Not even you can do this one on your own ��" not this time, surely?" Catching his gaze, she looked at him, beautiful green eyes serious. "What do you want me to do?"

Shaking his head at her fast thinking and unquestioning trust in him, Gibbs looked down at the glass in his hand, "I guess I've had enough of these now to ask if you'll do what I need you to do."

Putting his glass down unfinished, he turned to face her, resting an arm along the back of the sofa and staring at her intently. Her pulse rate reacted predictably to his clear blue eyes and she tried to cover how flustered she was by looking down, sipping her drink and breaking his gaze.

Explaining in more detail where his thoughts of the mole hunt were leading him, Gibbs outlined how he saw Abby's role. Slightly dismayed at how she would have to deceive not only the mole but also her friends, his team, she was nevertheless touched that he would turn to her first for help and was determined not to let him down. It wasn't a hard decision in the end to agree to help. She's always been prepared to do anything he asks of her; she trusts him that much.

Reaching out to cover the hand, Abby merely said "When do you want to do this?"

Meeting her eyes, seeing some nervousness in them but no hesitation. "There are a few details to iron out but next week if we can, Abbs ��" hit her while she's confident she's fooled us all."

"Will Lee believe it though, or rather, believe that everyone else thinks that I'm a traitor?"

"That's why I need the team's reactions to be genuine and why we can't tell them. Rule 4"

Abby quoted automatically. "The best way to keep a secret is keep it to yourself. The second best way is tell one other person... if you must. There is no third best."

Gibbs turned his hand over and laced their fingers together. She looked down at their joined hands, her slender one almost swamped by his large rough palm.

Focus, she chided herself as the warmth of his hand permeated her skin and she had to fight the urge to lift his hand and brush her lips across his knuckles. They talked some more, batting the pros and cons of his plan back and forth, both feeling the alcohol buzz lowering their inhibitions but trying to concentrate on what he was planning rather than on each other.

Abby contributed her usual practical ideas on how they could set the trap, trying not to be distracted as his other hand came off the back of the sofa to play with her hair. Her previous mood was lifting, predictably, not only with his presence but with a science problem to concentrate on and the importance of what they were about to attempt.

Satisfied that they'd covered the plan from every angle for the moment, Gibbs finally allowed himself to relax, feeling his tension drain away. He leant his head against the back of the sofa, more relieved than he'd care to admit that she was with him on this. She'd always had the ability to center him, to ease his dark and often maudlin thoughts, even if she didn't realize it. His need to see her tonight stemmed not only from wanting her help but a need just to be near her, to have her bright presence soothe his anxiety and settle his mind.

"It's not going to be easy, Abby, are you sure?"

He had to ask, knowing that she could handle the scientific and evidentiary side with ease, but worried that she hadn't thought through the implications of lying to the rest of the team. Only the Director would be aware of her real role. She had a fine poker face when she needed to, but her face could also be an open book when she was unsure of herself or nervous.

"As you said already, Langer didn't deserve this. Whatever Michelle's reasons for doing this, and I can't believe money can be her only motivation either, she went too far when she decided his life could be sacrificed to save her cover. I'll help in any way you want me to… you only had to ask, Gibbs."

"Abbs, you're amazing'." He was slightly taken aback by her neat summary of exactly how he felt about the situation and warmed by her determination.

"Of course I am! Have you not noticed before?" she teased, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, her eyes sparkling and a cheeky smile curving her lips.

"Oh, I've noticed," his voice suddenly husky as he turned to look at her again, still holding her hand, and catching his breath at how beautiful she looked with her face scrubbed of make-up.

The urge to nibble on that full bottom lip was almost overwhelming. Maybe it was the effect of the bourbon, the grief and stress of the past weeks or her close proximity, but Gibbs found himself struggling to keep himself under control.

Leaning in he brushed his lips across her cheek, breathing in her distinctive perfume but this time he didn't draw back to a safe distance as he would have done in the lab. Instead, he couldn't resist nuzzling his way over her ear and burying his nose in her hair before moving down to press his mouth against her neck, over her pulse point, feeling it jump under his lips and not missing her slight gasp at his actions.

His familiar scent washed over her, mingling slightly with the whiff of bourbon and the less pleasant lingering effects of the smoke from the bar. Tilting her head to give him better access, pulse pounding in her ears, she reached up and ran her fingers along his jawline and into the salt and pepper hair at the nape of his neck as he nuzzled into her neck.

Trying to get her heartbeat under control, she felt dazed at the speed with which the atmosphere had turned from solemn and serious to charged and electric.

Certain she'd never have the courage to say this if she were completely sober, she took a deep breath, "Stay?"

TBC...

Chapter 2 â€" The First Time

Drawing back slightly, taking in her dazed expression and the desire clouding her eyes, he needed to be sure she wanted this as much as he did and couldn't refrain from asking, "Are you sure, Abbs?"

"Stay and I'll show you how sure I am," her husky response further dismantling his already shaky defenses.

She trailed her fingers over his cheek and brushed her thumb across his lower lip, gasping as the tip of his tongue darted out to swirl round it, sending a spark of intense longing through her. "I want you, Gibbs… I've wanted you for as long as I can remember. I just couldn't be sure if you wanted me too."

"Never been more sure, Abbs. Think it's time I acted on it."

He reached up to push his fingers into her silky hair and started to massage her scalp before sliding his other hand up to cup her cheek. Trying to suppress a moan and failing miserably, Abby could only rub her cheek into his palm while dropping her other hand to his thigh and gripping tightly.

Jumping slightly under her touch, Gibbs leaned in once more to kiss her neck and...

oh my God…

… his tongue was on her spider web tattoo. Even if she's dreaming and he regrets it in the morning, she decides that she can no more turn away from him now than she can stop breathing. Her head is spinning and not only from the booze, and he hasn't even kissed her yet.

Leaning back along the couch and drawing him down with her, she pushed his jacket off his shoulders, freeing his arms which wound round her pulling her even closer. Leaving her neck, he kissed his way along her jawline and finally, finally covered her mouth with his own. His kiss was hungry and desperate, his insistent tongue soon sweeping inside to explore her mouth almost roughly. Abby wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back frantically, her senses spiraling out of control.

Not usually so passive, Abby could only cling to him as he dominated her mouth, his kiss possessive and demanding. He's as dominant as she'd imagined him to be in her many fantasies and she arched up against him, feeling her desire building. Abby curved her lips in appreciation as she felt his obvious arousal as he rocked his hips against her, pleased that she's had such an effect on him so quickly.

Gibbs was having a difficult time not just dragging Abby to the floor and driving into her, feeling almost overwhelmed that after so long, he finally had his hands and mouth on her skin. Trying to calm down, he gradually slowed his rough kisses to become deep, slow and almost languid, before leaving her mouth to kiss his way back down her jawline, nipping her earlobe and grazing his teeth gently down her neck and over her pulse point.

"My bed's bigger than this couch," she reminded him, causing him to chuckle into her neck, raising goose bumps as his breath washed over her skin.

"As long as it's not the coffin, Abbs. I'm going to need more space."

Mind whirling as to what he's going to do with that extra space, or rather do to her in that extra space, she decides she can't wait any longer to find out. Wriggling out from underneath him, she stood and reached for his hand. Pulling him towards the bedroom, she didn't get far before his arms wrapped around her from behind and pulled her hard against his body.

Unable to prevent a gasp escaping, she turned and pulled his head down, bringing his mouth to hers in a kiss that left them both breathless. Frantically grabbing at every part of him she could reach, she tried to get his shirt out of his pants, while he had her robe off and flung into the far reaches of her living room before they even made it to the door.

Deciding it's unfair that he's still dressed while she feels half naked already, she struggled to pull up his polo shirt, muttering "Too many damned clothes," her fingers clumsy in her haste.

She eventually lost patience and pulled frantically at both shirt and T-shirt, dragging both over his head, leaving his hair mussed. Throwing the bundled material away, she wasn't able to appreciate the view of his newly bared chest for long as he renewed his teasing assault on her sensitive skin.

Gibbs smoothed his calloused hands underneath her top and round to cup her breasts, fingers brushing across her nipples, causing her to moan and drop her head to his shoulder.

Trying to form a coherent thought while convinced her legs are about to give way, she switched her attention to his pants. She fumbled with his belt before he raised her camisole top over her head and hurled it away. Kicking off shoes and shedding socks while leaning against a wall is never the most elegant of movements when you're frantic to get undressed, but he somehow managed it without falling over.

Backing her towards the door and down the hallway, he licked and sucked his way down her neck and bit down on the spot where it joined her shoulder, and then soothed the area with his tongue while his hands continued to knead her breasts, eliciting a moan which went straight to his groin.

She scratched her nails lightly across his chest, in turn nibbling and kissing any exposed skin before transferring her attention to his zipper.

Drawing it down and slipping her hand inside to rub along his hardened length, she pushed his pants down over his hips so he could step out of them. Before she could get her hands on him again, she found herself pressed against him with her bedroom wall at her back while he tried to untie her pyjama pants. Grinding against her, murmuring in her ear how she makes him feel only ratchets up her own arousal even further.

She pulled him towards her bed before hooking her thumbs into his boxers and drawing them down. Looking up at him from her position on the floor, she mischievously signs 'wow, impressive,' which provokes one of his rare grins.

Sitting on the bed level with his erection, she reached for him and wrapped a hand around his length. Stroking gently at first and then more insistently, she ran her thumb over the sensitive head, causing him to groan and thrust into her hand, his fingers threading through her hair.

Smiling, she gazed up at him towering over her, wondering if she's ever seen a hotter sight; unable to stop a giggle emerging as a cheeky thought flits across her mind, that it really was true in this case what they said about men with big hands and big feet...

Before she could add her mouth to the hand already torturing him, he pulled her up to kiss her lest he lose the rest of his already wobbly control. Kneeling at her feet, he slid down her pyjama pants, baring her completely to his gaze for the first time.

God, she was breathtaking.

Standing, he nudged her back towards the bed, encouraging her to scoot into the middle before following her down. Covering her body completely with his own, they both moan at the feeling of skin on skin for the first time.

Overwhelmed that she can finally feel all of him and heart hammering at just how good he feels, she's spoilt for choice as to which bit of him her hands itch to grab first. She settled for running her hands across his shoulders, grazing her nails down his spine, causing him to shudder and growl into her neck, before pulling his ass towards her with both hands and arching up against him.

Gibbs wasn't idle either, hands exploring, running them down her sides and underneath her ass, his hips undulating and feeling her wet heat against him. Raising his head slightly, he worked his way down her neck and across her collarbone before heading south.

"Oh God, Jethro", breathed Abby, causing Gibbs to smile against her breasts as he nipped and suckled his way from one to the other, deciding it was well worth the wait to hear her use his Christian name for the first time.

Trying to calm down or this would be over far too quickly, he trailed his hands over her hips and started to move his fingers towards her thighs. Squirming underneath him and desperate to feel him inside her, she dragged his head up and kissed him urgently, pouring all she felt into the kiss, taking his breath away.

"Ten years of foreplay is more than enough, Jethro" she gasped, nipping his lower lip. "Please, I need you inside me… now."

She added impetus to her plea by raising her legs to wrap them around his waist, rubbing her wetness against his length causing an electric shock to go through them both at the contact. "We can go slow next time."

Not able to wait any longer, Gibbs reared above her, supporting his weight on both arms as he eased inside as gently as he could. Feeling her stretch around him, he stilled when fully inside, threatening to lose it at how snug she felt. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment to allow her to adjust to him, breathing heavily in an attempt to regain his control, trying to think of anything else other than the enticing body under him and the wet heat surrounding him.

Abby had other ideas though and he felt her raise her hips, urging him to move and driving him deeper. Feeling her inner muscles squeeze around him, he began thrusting steadily, unable to hold back.

She met him thrust for thrust, hips undulating as they instinctively found a rhythm which saw them both racing towards their climaxes. He changed the angle of his thrusts and her moans increased, nails digging into his shoulders before running her hands down his back to clasp his ass. She could feel the muscles of his butt clenching as he stroked into her.

Feeling her spasming around him, he knew she was close and reached in between them, pressing down firmly on her clit and she could hold on no longer.

Her scream of "Jethro," in his ear caused Gibbs to falter in his thrusts, groaning into her neck at the sound of her throaty voice.

Feeling her writhing and almost sobbing her release underneath him, nails clawing at his back, Gibbs thrust hard and fast, almost pounding her into the mattress before finding his own release. Coming to from a haze of pleasure, he was aware he'd collapsed on top of her and tried to move off before crushing her.

Her arms and legs tightened round him and she murmured, "Don't move yet. I love the way you feel."

He relaxed back down, relishing her warm softness as aftershocks rippled through them both, but tried to support some of his weight on his forearms. He nuzzled into her neck and tried to slow his breathing, "You okay?"

Hearing her almost purring, "Oh yeah", he felt her run her hands gently down his back before grasping his butt in both hands again, causing him to chuckle.

"You got an ass fetish, Abbs?"

"For your sexy butt I have," she giggled. "Waited years to get my hands on it and I'm not going to waste any opportunity."

"Brings a whole new meaning to, on your six," he smirked, which triggered a bout of fresh laughter from the woman in his arms.

Raising himself, he gazed down at her flushed face and sparkling eyes, and let a lazy, satisfied grin build. Grinning back, she ran her hands over his broad shoulders and down his chest, threading her fingers in the short hair she found there, determined to explore every glorious inch more thoroughly next time.

"You feel so good," was her soft comment.

"So do you," leaning down for a gentle kiss.

Sliding out of her as gently as he could, conscious he'd been rougher than he would have liked, he rolled onto his back.

"C'mere." He pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her as she snuggled into his side, throwing a leg over him.

"Let's sleep now and sober up. Talk in the morning" was all he could manage as he felt himself sliding into slumber, the exertion, release of tension and booze finally catching up with him.

TBC

Chapter 3 â€" The Morning After (…a breathing space)

Drifting awake naturally rather than being wrenched from sleep by nightmares or spending a restless night, as was the norm recently, Gibbs slowly became aware of a warm, soft weight half sprawled across his front, a head tucked into the crook of his neck and silky hair spread across his arms and chest. Breathing her in, he tightened his arms around Abby and began stroking his fingers gently up and down her spine, unable to resist the feel of her skin but reluctant to wake her.

Stirring slightly, she snuggled even closer and hummed appreciatively at the feel of his hands on her back.

"Hey," her voice was soft and husky as she nuzzled his chest.

"Hey yourself. Sleep well?"

"Mmmm," she started to pull away and he tightened his arms. "Thirsty… I'm just getting some water." Gibbs relaxed his hold and she reached for the bottle of water on the bedside table. "I drank too much last night," she gave him a brief smile.

"Me too." They shared long drinks, trying to rehydrate from both the booze and the night's activities.

He was concerned that she didn't seem to want to meet his eyes and her body language was hesitant and suddenly awkward. Fearful of what she was thinking and if she regretted sleeping with him, he pulled her back down when she'd finished and was comforted somewhat that she at least snuggled back onto his chest, but still kept her eyes averted. He didn't try to push her to talk, knowing that she would open up when she was ready. She was bound to fill any silence sooner rather than later.

Lying quietly together, long minutes passed before Abby finally found her voice to ask the question which had plagued the moments before she'd drifted off to sleep last night. She'd lain awake for some time after he'd fallen asleep, alternately savoring what had happened and fearful of how he'd feel when he woke up.

"So, now that we've sobered up, do you regret last night?" Abby lifted her head to rest her chin on his chest, still not meeting his eyes but looking everywhere else on his face.

Ah, so that's it, was his first relieved thought but before he could soothe her concerns, she carried on.

"I wouldn't be mad or anything if you'd had second thoughts after last night. I mean I realize you might regret what happened, or how fast it happened, and I'd understand if that's how you're feeling and you wanted to leave and think everything through, really I would."

"Abbs, I…" trying to break into the flow.

Interrupting him, aware that she was well into one of her usual babbles but unable to stop herself in her anxiety, her words came spilling out, "I mean I don't regret a thing."

She chanced a glance at his eyes then, seeing nothing but warmth and affection in his gaze. But she ploughed on, determined to get all her worries out in the open. "I never could regret anything with you and last night was fantastic. I mean I understand the stress you've been under and that you might regret starting..."

Cupping her cheeks in his large hands, he gently ran a thumb over her lower lip, effectively cut her off in mid flow.

"No regrets. And not going anywhere, Abbs, except to your shower. Care to join me?" that quirky grin she loved breaking out.

Her burgeoning smile expressed more than her delight about his shower idea and was tinged with relief that he wasn't about to leave. She leaned in for a soft kiss.

Gibbs knew she was often more nervous and less confident than the bright, cheerful persona she presented to the rest of the world would indicate. Her dramatic make-up, Goth clothes and 'accessories' were all a vital part of who she was, but they were also her armor against the world, and only her closest friends were allowed to see the more vulnerable side she normally kept hidden. That vulnerability was what usually brought out his fiercely protective nature and â€" hell, who was he kidding? â€" his possessiveness.

It was typical that she would take an off-the-cuff comment from him last night about sobering up and worry at it like a chewed nail, over-thinking it until she'd read more into it than he'd intended. He'd literally meant sober up so he could pay her more attention than his booze addled brain and exhausted body were capable of last night. Nothing more.

"Don't regret staying, Abbs," he tried to reassure her, pushing his hand along her neck and up to cup the back of her head, threading his fingers in her hair.

Now they'd taken this step to become lovers, he knew he didn't regret last night. In truth, he was tired of trying to keep his distance and pretending that what he felt for Abby was only friendship. They'd always danced around the mutual attraction they felt for years, sometimes straying closer to the line but always drawing back. The flirting they indulged in felt both dangerous and safe at the same time.

He suspected that the fear of losing a friendship that was vital to them both was one of the main reasons they'd both hesitated for so long. The age difference had never been an issue for Gibbs and he couldn't have cared less what anybody thought… Abby's opinion was the only one that mattered and it was no secret that she'd dated older guys in the past.

Rule 12… the sticking point.

He'd waged an internal battle with himself over this rule for years and what it meant to his relationship with Abby, alternating between convincing himself that he should back away and then leaning towards giving in to what he wanted. He wasn't technically her boss, he could argue, but that was just semantics in the end. He either wanted her enough to break his own rule or he didn't, and after last night there was no point in fooling himself any more.

The chemistry between them had always been positively electric. He knew she was attracted to him and cared about him, but Gibbs had always figuredthat someone as vibrant and beautiful as Abby couldn't really be satisfied with him and his dark side for long.

But the last few months had only reaffirmed what he already felt in his gut, that if they didn't even try, they'd end up regretting it for the rest of their lives and he'd had enough of living a life of 'what ifs'. After losing Shannon and Kelly, and then Kate and now Jenny, he of all people should know the meaning of Carpe Diem.

"Should have taken more care with you last night though. I was too rough. Did I hurt you, Abby?"

Her reassurance was immediate. "No, you didn't hurt me. I'm not some fragile doll, Jethro."

He brushed her hair back from her neck, looking unconvinced as he took in the marks he'd left on her neck and shoulders last night. "And you're not sorry 'bout last night?"

"The only thing I'm sorry about is I couldn't wait any longer," she reassured him, smiling. "I didn't want to rush, I wanted to savor every minute with you. But I just couldn't think straight… I just needed to feel you buried inside me."

Leaning in to kiss him again, she couldn't resist adding, a teasing smile on her face, "I happen to love rough, raw, fast sex as much as I love passionate, drawn out, teasing sex, and tender, slow love making that lasts for hours."

Barely brushing her lips over his, she breathed into his mouth, "I'll show you it all if you'll let me."

He responded with a kiss that rapidly turned needy and hungry until they were both breathless. Her voice was husky after he drew back, "Notice a theme emerging here? ... along the lines of I like sex, full stop."

Chuckling at her explanation, Gibbs promised, "Not gonna complain about that."

Head tilted to one side, eyes gleaming, she teased, "I certainly don't remember much complaining last night... plenty of moaning and groaning but no complaints."

Abby shrieked as Gibbs rolled on top of her and attacked her sides as he joined in her laughter. Struggling and squirming as her laughter made her breathless, she eventually grabbed his face in both hands and distracted him by kissing him lingeringly, finding herself unable to keep away from his mouth.

Gibbs tenderly ran his hand down her face, rolled back and gathered her in his arms where she settled willingly into his chest again, one leg entangled with his, rapidly coming to the conclusion that this could become one of her favorite positions.

"You know I'm crap at relationships, Abbs," he ventured into the comfortable silence.

"You'll have noticed that I'm not exactly a shining example of how to make a relationship work either, Jethro," she pointed out. "With a stalker in my resume and numerous other failed relationships in my wake, I'm certainly not a safe or easy option." Sounding rueful, she continued, "Heck, I couldn't even make it work with Tim. All I managed to do was hurt him, which he certainly didn't deserve."

Sometimes she caught McGee staring at her almost longingly and dreaded the day he might try to rekindle their relationship. Even before last night, she had known that she and McGee would always be better as just friends. No one over the years had come close to matching her feelings for Gibbs. They'd all been poor substitutes and she struggled to put some of that into words without revealing too much, for fear of scaring him off.

"They all suffered from one thing though... they weren't you," she admitted, almost shyly. She hesitated before continuing but she just had to ask him this. "This isn't a casual, one-time thing though, right? I mean I'm not sure I could cope if that's the way you wanted it."

"Nothing about this… us… is casual for me, Abbs." He didn't want to treat her like the procession of women he'd used over the years just to fill an empty bed; he had a feeling she could very well fill his empty heart if he gave her half a chance.

Gibbs smiled and ran his hand through her tousled locks, "Care to take a chance with a cranky, stubborn old Marine?"

Eyes shining, she countered, "Care to take a chance with a cranky, stubborn mad forensic scientist?"

His whispered, "Yeah" was heartfelt.

Giving him a wide smile, her next words made his heart race, "Me too. I just can't think beyond the fact that I want you."

"I want you too, Abbs... Need you in my life and my bed."

"Then you've got me," she promised, gently trailing patterns across his chest with her fingers. "If you're willing to take a risk with me, we could try and muddle through... together."

Not easily finding the words to tell her how right that sounded and how much he was prepared to try, he settled for showing her how he felt, hoping she would understand what he was trying to say. He pulled her up so she was lying fully on top of him, soft curves settling against him and his kiss was tender and full of longing. Pulling back, he grinned in satisfaction at her flushed cheeks, swollen lips and glazed eyes.

She felt overwhelmed that things could change so quickly between them and felt almost afraid that what she'd wanted for so long seemed suddenly within her grasp.

"I can't believe you're here," tracing the lines of his face gently.

"I'll try not to screw up, Abbs," turning his head to press a kiss into her palm.

Abby sought to lower the emotional tone before she turned into a gibbering wreck in his arms and let slip that she was in love with him, something she was sure would freak him out this early on in their relationship. She whispered, "Now, about that shower...it would be a shame to waste this," rolling her hips against his growing erection, causing his breathing to catch.

"At the very least, it'll tick off one of my fantasies from a very long list."

"How many fantasies are on this list of yours, Abbs?"

"I'd rather show you them all… one by one," teased Abby. "Do you have any idea how many times I've come already, moaning your name, merely at the thought of you." Her words caused him to groan, hands flexing on her hips to slip round to her ass, pulling her more firmly against him.

Reaching down between them to trail her fingers over his rapidly hardening length teasingly, she murmured, "Got any fantasies you want to share?"

Voice pitched low, his whisper in her ear made her shiver, "Oh yeah…"

TBC...

Chapter 4 - The Shower

Grinning at his words, Abby scrambled out of bed and reached for his hand. Torn between leaping straight into the shower but still feeling dehydrated, she went for more water and to flick on the coffee maker, pointing out to him where she kept a spare new toothbrush. When she returned, it was to find Gibbs already in her shower, covered in suds.

Oh my… there's a naked Marine in my shower.

Mesmerized by the sight of his broad shoulders, strong back and that ass as water and soap cascaded down, she eventually tore herself away and started to brush her teeth.

She was soon distracted by her libido tapping her on the shoulder…

What are you doing, Scuito? Gibbs is naked, wet and in your shower and you're cleaning your teeth?!

Oh, shut up, no one likes 'morning mouth'.

For God sake, get in there… and by the way, did I mention he's naked… and wet?

Okay, good point.

Abandoning both toothbrush and her inner debate, she clambered into the shower, wrapping her arms around him from behind, cheek rubbing against his back like a contented cat.

"You started without me," she murmured.

"Plenty left to wash yet," came the amused reply.

Her "Ya think" in her usual passable imitation of his voice caused him to chuckle as her hands started to wander.

She started to plant soft teasing kisses across his back, wincing as she caught sight of the marks her nails had left last night. "That's gotta hurt."

"Didn't feel a thing at the time, Abbs. Guess I was distracted." He turned to face her, grinning, suds and water running down his front, causing her brain to short circuit…

Where do I start?

It reminded her of going into a candy store as a kid and being faced with such an edible array that she felt like eating the lot…

Obviously dithering for too long, she found herself pulled forward and wrapped in his arms before she could come up with a plan of action. Turning them both, he tilted her head back into the stream of water, running his fingers through the strands.

"Wanted to do this for a long time," his voice low and gravely, only adding to her rapidly escalating desire.

Reaching for the shampoo, his hands were soon back on her scalp, gently massaging, turning a simple hair wash into something dizzyingly erotic. Wanting to take a more active role and yet unable to form more of a coherent thought than…

mmm…

… she could only hang onto his waist while she let her head fall back, submitting to his ministrations. Washing out the shampoo with equal gentleness, he reached for her body wash, smirking as he took in her dazed reaction.

Turning her gently again, he started with her back, washing and soaping her back and shoulders and on down her arms and legs, completely ignoring her ass for the moment, despite her attempts to push it back at him for some attention. Running his hands round her front and over her stomach, his next target was her breasts and she couldn't suppress a whimper as he alternatively massaged and stroked them, teasing her nipples into hardened peaks.

Moving his hands in gentle circles ever lower, he skirted where she most wanted him to touch her and trailed his fingers down her thighs. Moaning, she dropped her head back against his shoulder and reached back to grab his hips, pulling his arousal against her from behind and grinding back at him.

"Patience, Abbs," came the amused murmur in her ear.

Patience? He was going to kill her at this rate. He was barely touching her and she was already mush in his arms. She couldn't remember being turned on so thoroughly so quickly.

The man was intoxicating. Not only did he have the whole Alpha male thing going on, but he exuded a self-assured sensuality that made her toes curl. It explained why women kept marrying this man, despite his bastard reputation and grumpy temper, and why he left a trail of panting females in his wake whenever he crossed the Navy yard.

Trailing his fingers up her inner thighs, she moaned his name again as his hand finally cupped her. One finger gliding over her folds, he circled her clit. Pushing first one and then two fingers inside her, he gently thrust in and out, sliding his fingers out every few strokes to rub moisture over her clit, making her shudder.

Already trembling, she was startled at how close she was and grabbed at his arm, sure her knees would give way any minute. One arm wrapped around her from behind, he held her as his fingers increased speed and he all but growled into her ear.

"Come for me, Abbs."

His thumb pressed against her clit again and that, coupled with his 'order', was all she needed. Grinding down against his fingers, she rode out the aftershocks, waiting for her heartbeat to slow. Nuzzling her neck and suckling her pulse point, he gently supported her weight as she came down from her high.

Breathing out a shaky laugh and still trembling, she reached behind her to run her fingers through his hair and turned to kiss him, tongue gently teasing.

"It seems even my body follows your orders."

"Good to know."

He returned her kiss almost languidly, wrapping his arms around her gently. Reaching out to turn off the rapidly cooling water, he helped her out of the shower and wrapped her in a towel. She grabbed another towel and wrapped it around him, lingering over drying him off.

He turned her gently to face the mirror and removed her towel, pressing up against her. Conscious that he'd been aroused for a while now, she caught his eyes in the mirror and murmured softly, "Take what you need, Jethro."

Bending her forward gently, he ran his fingers over her lower back. "Waited years to get my mouth on this tat," following the path his fingers had taken with his tongue, licking his way up the line of her spine and trailing slow open-mouthed kisses back down.

She was squirming and whimpering by the time he'd licked his way along the lines of both arms of the cross. Pushing back at him, she was not above begging, breathing out "Jethro" again as his hands and mouth tormented her. From this angle, he could also run his hands over the curves of her backside more easily. She wasn't the only one with an ass fetish. The short skirts, curve of her hips and the swell of her ass had driven him crazy for years.

Nudging her legs apart, Gibbs slid into her from behind, burying himself deeply inside, causing them both to groan at the feeling of being joined again. He reached round to run his hands over her breasts and leaned down to nip her shoulder before pulling her hips back against him.

His position triggered a random thought from last night's conversation and he couldn't resist chuckling as he murmured in her ear, "On your six, boss."

Giggling, she knew she wouldn't be able to hear that phrase again from DiNozzo without dissolving into laughter. Delighted at his playful side, further coherent thought became impossible as he pulled out of her almost completely before stroking back inside slowly and steadily.

Abby braced her hands against the counter as she thrust back at him while keeping her eyes locked on his, finding the sight and feel of him erotic beyond words. He kept his thrusts slow and deep, feeling her muscles tightening around him again.

By her earlier words, she'd implied that she felt satisfied but he was convinced there was more, if only he could coax it out of her. He changed the angle of his thrusts subtly each time until he was rewarded with her crying out…

Gotcha, he thought smugly.

Bracing himself with hands against her hips, he kept up a steady rhythm brushing against her G-spot with every plunge. He was trying to hold out, but finding the needy sounds she was making deep in her throat, and the feel of her wet heat around him, playing havoc with his self control.

Even with her very healthy appetite for sex, Abby normally needed more time to recover in between 'bouts', so she was slightly stunned to feel her release building again. Two orgasms so close together were rare, even for her. Not quite believing she was heading for another climax so soon, she tried to push back against him, desperate for more contact.

Hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, he increased his thrusts, unable to hold back much longer. She cried out his name again as her orgasm ripped through her, muscles rippling around him and he was soon following her, groaning his own release into her shoulder, pressed up close against her cross tattoo.

Chapter 5 â€" Sunday… is supposed to be a day of rest

Erotic. Playful. Passionate. Sensuous. Intense. Tender... all words Abby could use to describe her weekend with Gibbs.

He'd stayed in her apartment all day Saturday, spending most of it in her bedroom, apart from trips to the kitchen to refuel with much needed food and coffee and the shower to clean up, usually together. They managed to christen almost every room in her apartment and what felt like every horizontal surface, along with quite a few walls along the way. It's a good job there was no need to black light her apartment…

By the end of the weekend, Abby had lost track of the orgasm count... in her favor.

Collapsed in a chair after they'd tested the strength of her kitchen table, she was curled up in a boneless heap in his lap, still trembling. She seemed to be spending the entire weekend with her nerve endings on fire.

"I'm curious… why are you spoiling me so much?" she asked him hesitantly, softly kissing her way along his neck.

"Spoiling you?" he sounded wryly amused at her euphemism.

"Yeah, you know…" suddenly unsure whether she should have started this conversation, she pulled back, resting her hands on his shoulders, seeing the amusement and something else she couldnt define lurking in his eyes. "You're lagging way behind me in the orgasm stakes."

"You keeping score, Abbs?" he chuckled, raising his eyebrows.

"Nooo," she punched him lightly on the shoulder, and dropped her gaze. "It's just… I couldn't help but notice and it's hardly fair on you."

"Maybe I like spoiling ya," his hands trailing gently over her back, before pulling her closer.

She smiled up at him, tracing her fingers gently over the lines of his face. "I mean I'm totally not complaining. You may have noticed I love every minute of it, but I like to… spoil you too."

Huffing a soft laugh, he said, "I like you spoiling me too but I'm not as young as I was, Abbs, I can't keep up with ya," trying to make light of his longer recovery time.

All of which may have been true, but didn't explain his single minded determination to drive her slowly out of her mind. He seemed hell bent on showing her that sex with him was much more than the hard and fast coupling they'd shared that first time.

"You don't have to prove anything to me, you know." She searched his eyes, feeling his sudden tension and sensing the vulnerability behind his carefully held expression, almost hearing the unspoken, don't I?

Although neither of them cared about the age difference between them, she hadn't realized how he might be feeling a degree of insecurity related to it. The irony was, there was no need for him to worry. Not only did she love him, which she knew added another dimension to sex for her, but physically he was everything she'd ever imagined him to be. None of her previous lovers had made her feel like this. And now she felt guilty about raising the subject, however obliquely, and wondered how she could reassure him.

"And you think I can keep up this pace, do you?" She tilted her head on one side, lips curving in a familiar smile.

"Not noticed you flagging yet, Abbs."

"I shan't be able to walk by Monday at this rate," she tried to defuse the tension. He focused on her face and softly brushed his fingers against her cheek. He seemed to hear beyond her words to what she was trying to tell him and she was relieved to see the lines of his face relax.

"Young is very over-rated, you know. Trust me." Abby wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed her lips across his jawline. "Quick to start and very quick to finish in my experience. Why do you think I prefer older men?" she said, smiling gently.

"That the only reason?" he asked, sounding amused, grateful for her lightening the mood, hands moving down to her hips and round to cradle her ass and pull her more firmly against him.

"No. I'll… er, get to all the other reasons in good time," she sighed as she felt a spark go through her at the contact, finding it hard to concentrate. "Stop distracting me."

He didn't respond but continued to run his hands over her back and round to brush the back of his knuckles against the underside of her breasts, causing her to gasp. Before she could lose the thread of what she was saying, she had to finish this thought. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she reassured him softly, "With you, I've never felt so cherished."

"That's kinda the idea," bending down to capture her lips in a searing kiss.


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She wasn't exactly a passive participant either.

She usually approached sex with the same joyful gusto that she brought to life and she gradually managed to take a more active role, once her knees stopped turning to jelly the moment he touched her. It was hardly a surprise that he would be as dominant sexually as he was in every other aspect of his life and, at first, she felt almost overwhelmed by him and her reaction to him. She was sure that she could never get enough of him, no matter how many times they made love, but she was determined to show him that sex with her meant that he didn't have to do all the heavy lifting and that she could be an equal and, at times, dominant partner.

The sight of him writhing underneath her, neck arched as he groaned and cried out her name, gripping her hips as she rocked above him trying to draw out both their orgasms, would certainly be burned into her brain for some time.

What had surprised her initially was just how physically affectionate and tactile he was. Who'd have thought that Gibbs was a cuddler?

She was sure part of it was the novelty of finally being able to touch and feel and taste every inch of each other. But to her delight, he just seemed to be a very physical person. Perhaps it was partly a reflection of his reluctance to talk and how uncomfortable he was with expressing his feelings, but he seemed to find it easier to show her how he felt with his hands and mouth and body… which was not something she was likely to complain about.

She wasn't sure if he was a particularly fast learner or if she was just so responsive to him because of the depth of her feelings, but he seemed particularly adept at finding all her sensual weaknesses and exploiting them till she was reduced to a quivering heap in his arms. For her part, she couldn't keep her hands off him, finding she craved his body the more she touched him. He seemed to reciprocate, needing to be almost constantly in contact with her, touching her or nuzzling her neck or enfolding her in his arms.


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By Saturday evening, their urgency had diminished slightly and they were more able to take their time to savor each other; hot and needy and desperate turning to languid and teasing and tender.

Lazily exploring her body, this time on a sensual tour of each of her tattoos, he kissed and ran his tongue over each one, making her shiver with his delicate touch. He stilled as he hovered above her bat tattoo, the image etched into the skin above her right hip in Kate's memory.

"You recognize it, don't you?" she asked gently.

By his expression, she could see that he remembered the drawing Kate had made of her even before his whisper of "Oh yeah…" reached her ears.

He traced his fingers tenderly over every line of the tattoo before gently placing a kiss over it, breath ghosting over her skin and raising goose bumps. He looked up at her, starting to murmur, "Kate…" before the lump in his throat caused him to break off, unable to continue, such a wealth of emotion in his eyes that she caught her breath and reached for him.

He moved up level with her face again, settling his weight against her on the bed, arms on either side of her head. Neither able to speak for a charged moment, blue eyes held green, shared memories of Kate filling the silence between them without the need for words. Cradling her face in his hands, he eventually leaned down and breathed "My lovely lab bat," against her lips, causing her to smile against his mouth at the new nickname.

The whispered "Mine" that followed slipped out before he could stop himself. He froze and hesitated before raising his head, the question visible on his face, wondering if he'd gone too far, even if possessive was exactly how he felt about her.

"All yours, Jethro." she promised, threading her fingers through his hair, secretly thrilled he felt that way.

His lop-sided grin showed his delight at her words and the kiss that followed swamped her senses.


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Breakfast on Sunday found them sat at her still surprisingly intact kitchen table sipping coffee; he in his boxers and she clad in a nightie. Although judging by the look on his face when she came into the kitchen and the way his eyes were now running over the silken garment, she doubted she'd be in it for much longer.

"When I'm at church, Gibbs, I'm going to light a candle in Langer's memory. I've been thinking about it for a while now, even before this," she admitted, looking thoughtful as she sipped her coffee. "I still feel guilty about resenting him so much. It wasn't his fault Tony was gone."

Touched by the thought, he suppressed a smile at her reverting to calling him Gibbs now they were, technically, no longer in bed. She hadn't warmed to Langer, viewing him as Tony's replacement, but it was a caring gesture typical of Abby.

"Although," she shook herself out of her reverie, a mischievous gleam in her eye, "I can guarantee I'm going to find it very hard to concentrate in church. If I keep thinking about last night… or yesterday, for that matter… and especially Friday night, I'm sure my lascivious thoughts are going to send me straight to hell."

"You won't be the only one, Abbs," he replied, reaching out to run his hand down her back, enjoying the feel of the silk against his hands, wondering whether the ties at the side really did unravel it or were they just for show.

"I'm meeting the nuns after church for lunch. Are you going home for some quality basement time?" she asked.

He shouldn't be surprised that she'd read his mind, she knew him so well, "Sure you don't mind?"

"Why should I mind?" she shrugged, reaching down to trail her nails over his thigh muscles, causing them to twitch under her hand. "I know you need your time alone."

"Need some time to think about the plan… and us," he replied, moving his hand up and across her shoulders to massage the back of her neck.

She glanced up at him, suddenly nervous, "Uh-oh."

"Nothing bad, Abbs. Promise," he soothed, concerned that she could so quickly switch to sounding as if she wasn't sure of him.

God knows, he'd had his share of the pitfalls and booby traps lurking along the road of any new relationship. He'd always felt as if he was walking on eggshells with any unguarded comment in those tentative first weeks, and he'd overreacted himself on occasion to situations he'd misread. Even knowing each other as well as they did, he figured that aspect of beginning a relationship wouldn't change even with Abby, especially given how insecure she was at times.

"Positive thoughts?" she asked, tentatively.

"Nothing but positive thoughts," he smiled at her before leaning down to press a warm kiss to her shoulder, "but it's a lot to think about."

"I know. I keep hoping no one will pinch me and I'll wake up and discover it's all been a dream." She gave him a shy smile.

"No dream, Abbs. Just a future to look forward to," reaching down to cover her hand where it rested on his thigh. He might not say very much but when he did, it was usually worth listening to and she found herself relaxing at his words. She moved to straddle his lap, sliding her arms around him and tucking her head into his neck.

"I also need to change my clothes," he pointed out, somewhat ruefully. "You gonna come over later?"

"Love to, although are you sure you're gonna need any clothes tonight, Special Agent Gibbs?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow, her mischievous nature emerging quickly again, to his relief.

"Why? You got plans?" he shot back, resting his hands on her hips, gradually pushing the silk higher to reveal more of her creamy skin.

"Oh yeah," she promised, huskily. "Dinner… then do you wanna fool around?"

She held his face and moved in for a languid kiss, tongues sliding and teasing. Breaking the kiss slowly, they rested their foreheads against each other, breathing heavily.

"Sounds like a plan," his voice hoarse, trying to rein himself in as she shifted in his lap or they'd never get out the door.

"Gonna cook dinner for me?"

"Gonna share my bed tonight?" he bantered, grinning at her spreading smile. "Although it might take a while to get there, via basement, boat, rug, couch…"

Eyes widening as all too vivid images flashed across her mind at his words, she giggled into his neck, heart racing at the thought of finally sharing his bed.

"Shall I bring some groceries with me or is there actually any food in those cupboards for a change?" she teased.

"Hey, I got food," he protested, fingers digging into her sides, causing her to snort with laughter and squirm even more…

Uh-oh, not a good idea, as he felt his body start to respond to her warmth… again.

"Well… shall I bring anything or not?" she shot him a seemingly innocent smile when he didn't answer her immediately, knowing full well the effect she was having on him.

"Got it covered, Abbs. I'll cook," leaning down to graze his teeth over the spot below her ear that always made her head spin. " Just bring yourself."

"And what about dessert?" she tried to concentrate but found her eyes fluttering closed as her body started to react to him.

"That's what I said… just bring yourself," his voice low and intense with promise.

Chapter 6 â€" Dessert

His time alone in his basement and the familiar, soothing routine of working on his boat helped his mind to settle. Reviewing his plan to flush out the mole from every angle, Gibbs was eventually satisfied that he was as mentally prepared as he could be; Abby's part would begin in earnest on Monday. Knowing nothing more could be done until they were back at work, he tried to take a break from worrying over the details. Thoughts inevitably straying to Abby, he found his mood lightening rapidly. He knew that if he hadn't stayed with her on Friday night, he would probably have spent the entire weekend alone in his basement, drinking too much and brooding over the last few months.

Abby was as warm, generous, feisty and exciting in bed as she was out of it. The sex was mind blowing but the mental connection and ease he felt with her was equally important. Perhaps it was because they'd been friends for so long but he couldn't remember feeling such a physical and mental connection with a woman in a long time. He found himself looking forward to the future for once. He was sure that he could get used to waking up with her curled beside him every morning, but didn't want to move too fast for her.

He wasn't surprised that she'd been perceptive enough to pick up on his underlying insecurity, however unconscious it had been on his part. It was perhaps more to do with the newness of their relationship; he just couldn't seem to keep his hands, or any other part of his anatomy, away from her. She made him feel like a horny teenager again, but he'd meant what he said; he was under no illusions that he could keep up with her. But she might well be bored with him in a few months' time anyway and he intended to make the most of whatever time she was prepared to share with him. He still couldn't believe someone like Abby would choose him. She could have any man she wanted, why settle for a cranky Marine?

Mentally headslapping himself as he started down his usual road of over-thinking things… again, he decided it was time to concentrate on something else.

Heading upstairs, he took a shower and changed his clothes before grabbing a sandwich for lunch. He began rummaging in cupboards which turned out to be not as full as he'd boasted to Abby. Deciding that he really did need groceries after all, and determined not to resort to take-out or he'd never heard the end of her teasing, he headed out to stock up. Lighting the fire on his return to take the chill out of the living room, he'd made a start on the meal when he heard her car pull up outside.

Moving into the hallway to intercept her, his door was flung open and the whirlwind which was Abby blew inside, chattering about her day as soon as she was inside before throwing her arms around him for a welcome kiss, declaring "I'm famished."

Holding her head in place with one hand, he wrapped his other arm around her to pull her close against his body, slowly building on the gentle kiss until it became heated and needy. Pulling back slowly, her eyes closed, she let a lazy, sexy smile spread over her face.

"Wow, I missed you too," she breathed.

Opening her eyes, she finally registered that he wasn't in his usual weekend wardrobe of jeans and T-shirt but simply and smartly dressed in a black polo shirt and black pants, the black of the shirt making his blue eyes even more striking… like they needed any help. She didn't even know he owned a black polo shirt. If he wore that to work, she'd be giving security an unexpected X-rated treat as she ripped it off him and jumped his bones.

"You look nice," running her hands up his chest. "Very hot."

"Gotta a hot date tonight."

"Really? Well, that's a coincidence coz so do I."

"Is that why you're dressed up?" running an appreciative gaze over what was clearly not her usual Sunday church outfit. At least he figured she wouldn't wear the close fitting, green top over a minute black skirt, black stockings and slender heels, topped by a leather jacket - the priest, not to mention half the congregation, would have heart failure if she did.

Leaning down to nibble on her bottom lip, he ran his hands round her waist and down over her ass, hands flexing suddenly on her hips and letting an involuntary groan slip out as he felt the unmistakable outline of a garter under her skirt.

Drawing back to meet her amused eyes, he raised an eyebrow, drawing in an unsteady breath as his imagination completed the picture.

"That's your dessert," she informed him with an impish grin.

She was definitely trying to kill him.

"Jeez, Abbs." Burying his face into her neck, he began kissing and suckling her pulse point, hearing her breathing hitch in response. He ran his hands underneath her skirt and up over her silk panties and lacy stocking tops for a closer inspection, feeling his groin tighten.

Her throaty chuckle just helped send whatever blood remained above his neck heading south. "What is it about men and garter belts, not to mention stockings?"

"It's hard wired into our DNA, Abbs, or our genes."

"Well, it's something in their jeans, that's for sure," she gave an unladylike snort, tilting her hips against his, teasingly brushing against his rapidly hardening flesh.

Trying to rein himself in or they'd never get out of the hallway, he pulled away, despite the protests from the rest of his body.

"Thought you were hungry?" he teased.

Still grinning at the effect she was having on him, she gave him her best innocent look. "For you or food?"

"If I answer both, I sense I'm gonna be in trouble," smiling at her, while his hands pushed her jacket off her shoulders. He knew by now that the more innocent she looked, it usually meant her thoughts were anything but.

"Always hungry, Gibbs," stepping closer and wrapping her arms round his waist. "Can't get enough…" she reached up nip at his jawline, "of food, that is. A girl's got to keep her strength up."

Snorting, he tickled her sides, causing her to squirm away from him laughing.

"Although I can always be persuaded to go straight to dessert… it's my favorite part of the meal."

"As a wise woman once said to me, you gotta eat your peas first, Abbs."

"You mean you did find some food in here after all?" she asked, moving into the kitchen and eyeing the preparations for a meal.

"Brat," lightly swatting her on the ass, he moved past, trying to calm his racing heartbeat at the thought of what was underneath her outfit.

Working side by side in his kitchen, they caught up on Abby's day, chatting as easily as ever. It wasn't unusual for them to share a meal outside the Navy Yard. They'd cooked dinner for each other many times in the past, as well as going out and not just on the night before her birthday. It was a relief to them both that there was no trace of awkwardness or self-consciousness over this change in their relationship. Their shared sense of humor and joint instinct for mischief meant that bantering had always been a big part of their friendship. Their fledging relationship now added a whole new sexual dimension to it, something they could indulge in freely.

Setting the table, she was thoughtful as she watched him move with practiced ease around his kitchen, admiring the play of muscles on his arms and shoulders. She could never tire of just watching him… drinking him in, and now she could do so without having to do it surreptitiously.

"Are you sure you didn't want to spend the whole day on your own? I know how much you need your thinking time. Next week is going to be difficult at best. I wouldn't have minded, really I wouldn't," she told him quietly.

"I'm glad you came, Abbs," he moved closer, hands smoothing over her back as he pulled her close. Reassured by his expression and the smile in his eyes, she wound her arms round his neck, tilting her head up for a kiss. Losing herself in the taste and feel of him again, she relaxed against him.

"Besides…" he paused, "someone's got to do the dishes." Giving her a peck on the nose, he grinned and turned back to the fridge.

Eyes narrowing, she eyed the tempting rear view as he bent to retrieve a beer from the fridge. She reached out and couldn't resist pinching his ass, taking off before he could grab her. He eventually caught her, breathless with laughter, in his living room and tumbled them both down to the rug in front of the fire.

"That was your fault for flashing such a tempting target. What's a girl supposed to do when presented with a butt like that?" she teased.

Pinning her down with his body weight, he grabbed both her hands and held them above her head with one hand while ghosting his other hand down her sides, causing her to laugh even harder. Nipping and licking his way down her neck made her squirm even more, which in turn caused his body to react.

"Someone's supposed to be cooking me dinner," she gasped.

"I'm busy," he mumbled into her neck. God, she smelled so good.

Almost on cue, her stomach grumbled in response, causing him to snort. "You train that to grumble on demand?"

"Of course," still giggling, she turned her head to nip his earlobe before soothing it with her tongue, hearing him moan." And now you're outnumbered, me and my stomach, that's two to one… so get back in that kitchen and start cooking."

He responded by tilting his hips into hers, letting her feel how cooking was the very last thing on his mind right now. She gasped at the feel of his hardness against her, her pulse beginning to beat a steady rhythm between her thighs.

"Want to unwrap my dessert first." He released her hands so he could remove her top and unclasp her lacy bra. Mesmerized by the sight of her with firelight dancing across her skin, he pulled her bra straps down her arms.

Her hands weren't idle either and she was busy pulling his shirt off, before fumbling at his belt and trying to push his pants and boxers down before she broke off as his mouth fastened onto her breasts.

"Oh God, Jethro" was all she could manage as his mouth teased and licked one breast while his thumb brushed back and forth across her other nipple. Reaching for him, she pulled his head up for a kiss that rapidly escalated.

Trying to get her breathing under control, she gasped, "Oh to hell with it… dessert first," provoking his full blown grin before he bent his head to kiss her senseless again.

Hands shaking, he managed to remove her skirt, leaving her in nothing but panties, garters, stockings… and 'fuck me' heels. Captivated by the sexiest sight he could remember seeing in a long time, he ran his hands slowly up her legs before leaning forward and nuzzling his mouth against her, tonguing the damp spot already soaking through her panties, nose nudging her clit. Teasing and tormenting her, she cried out and arched off the rug, so completely turned on by him that she could hardly think straight.

Pulling her panties down, he ran his fingers over the garters and down her stocking clad legs, murmuring "Keep these on. I want to see you," raw need in his voice.

Positioning himself at her entrance, he coated himself in her moisture and teased her clit, feeling her shudder at the contact, before sinking slowly into her warmth.

Hitching one of her legs above his hip, he rocked against her gently, stilling as he looked down at the image of her spread across his fireside rug, hair tousled, eyes closed and biting her lower lip, while her hands clutched at his shoulders.

Opening her eyes when she sensed he wasn't about to move, she breathed out a ragged plea.

"Just admiring the view, Abbs," his voice was soft. "So beautiful."

"View's pretty damn good from down here too… but do you think you could please admire a bit faster… and harder." She could only gasp as he rolled his hips in a slow circle.

Snorting his amusement, "Easy, Abbs. We've got all night."

He pulled her other leg up to rest her ankle over his shoulder, the change in angle spreading her even wider, causing him to sink even deeper inside. Her eyes widened and a breathy moan escaped her lips at the sensation.

Setting a steady but achingly slow pace, he watched her gradually unravel beneath him. Losing himself in the dizzying feelings her body provoked in him, he gradually increased his thrusts, still keeping them as deep as he could, muscles trembling with the effort. Raking her nails down his back, she met his thrusts with as much leverage as she could manage and locked eyes with him, the intensity of their connection overwhelming them both, their world narrowing until all they could feel and taste and see was each other. Feeling her orgasm building, she could only cling to him as it burst over her, muffling her cries into his shoulder, her body trembling and shaking. Feeling her clenching tightly around him, his thrusts became more erratic before he let go, groaning her name into her neck.

Drifting, still entwined, their breathing eventually returned to normal. Not sure her legs would support her yet if she tried to get up, she burrowed into his side when he rolled to one side. One leg thrown over his, she traced idle patterns on his chest while his hand was again irresistibly drawn to her stockings, causing her to chuckle. As he stroked his hand gently up and down her leg, she glanced round the room, trying to work out where most of their clothing had ended up before she let her head fall back onto his chest, too drained to move.

"So, erm, who's cooking dinner again?" she queried, hearing his chuckle as a low rumble under her ear.

Urged on by the ever increasing noises from her stomach, they did eventually make it to the kitchen to finish and eat the meal he'd started. Later, curling up on the couch, he spooned behind her, nose buried in her hair, feeling a sense of contentment steal over him.

Chatting about Abby's plans to visit her family before Christmas, the conversation soon turned to Jackson.

"When this thing with Michelle is over, I'll call him, tell him about us."

She squeezed his hand where it lay over her stomach, slightly surprised but delighted that he would be so willing to tell his father about their relationship.

Sensing her surprise, he looked down. "Is that okay, Abbs?"

"Of course. I really want him to know about us. Do you think he'll be okay about it, about us?"

He wondered how long it would be before she stopped being uncertain about them. "Are you kidding? Whenever I ring him, he does nothing but talk about the team, but mostly you. You made quite an impression on him."

"Well, that's mutual but that doesn't mean he'd want me with his son."

He brushed his mouth against the back of her neck, not sure how he could reassure her. "I'm sure he'll be pleased for us. If anything, he'll be jealous."

Rolling her eyes at him, she smiled before asking tentatively. "I'd like to spend more time with him if we can, perhaps over Christmas or New Year." She still felt hesitant about assuming what they could do together, as a couple.

"Sure," he pulled her closer. "Do ya think Gloria will kick my ass?" not without worries of his own on that score.

"No way, Gloria loves your ass… almost as much as her daughter does."

"What?" a startled laugh escaping him.

Giggling, she turned in his arms to grin up at him. "She adores you, you know that. She'll be fine. She'll be happy that I'm happy."

Lying quietly for a while, he could almost hear her thinking and waited until she was ready to broach whatever was still on her mind.

"We should really talk about the rest of our family, you know, and whether we're going to tell them about us." She didn't need to elaborate on which family she was talking about; his team were as much a second family for both of them. "Are we going to tell them? I'm guessing you want to keep us quiet."

"You know how I feel about my private life being kept private, Abbs."

"I know. I hate being the object of office gossip, too, you know that. I'm not talking about hanging a banner from the roof of the Navy Yard. Just Ducky and your team, they're our friends and it's just..." she trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"I'm not trying to hide, Abbs. I just don't think we should flaunt it, especially not now."

There was a difference between not flaunting and actively hiding and while she didn't want to argue with him, he needed to know how she felt. "I realize the timing of all this sucks. There are going to be enough distractions next week with the mole hunt without adding to them. I understand, really I do."

"Hey, don't think I'm ashamed of us, Abbs." He tilted her face up to him to kiss her softly, thumb rubbing gently over her cheek, forming a familiar sign. "Never think that. I just think we should get through this first."

"Okay, and then we'll tell them?"

Sensing she needed more from him and how important this was to her, he eventually answered, "Yeah, if you want to."

She was firm. "Yes, I do. They care about us, Jethro. I want our friends to know how happy I am and that the reason for that is you."

She refrained from saying that both Ducky and Tony knew of her feelings for Gibbs already; she wasn't sure how he'd react to Tony knowing.

"Anyway, I feel I need to tell Tim when I can. I don't want him finding out by accident. I think I've hurt him enough."

There was a lengthy pause while he considered that and what it would do to the team dynamics but eventually conceded, "Yeah, when this is behind us."

"Yeah, I know. You've enough on your mind without worrying about that right now. I'm sorry I raised the subject."

"Don't be," he was reassuring, brushing his lips against her temple. "We needed to talk about it."

"Not that I can see either of us acting any differently at work," Abby continued, "not that I'm not going to be tempted now I know what lies underneath those clothes and what you can do with those far too talented hands and mouth."

"As hard as it will be to keep my hands off you, Abbs, no, we'll be no different at work. Besides, we need to be discreet, to keep it from Vance."

"He could make trouble for you, couldn't he?"

"For both of us if he chooses to. Don't know him well enough yet to judge his reaction." He didn't know Vance well enough to judge his reaction to anything and an unpredictable Director was a dangerous one.

"Well, then, let's not give him the ammunition in the first place… and if it gets too much, there's always the elevator," she added with a cheeky grin, knowing the thought had crossed his mind too when he groaned into her neck.

Sated and completely drained, not to mention sore and aching in all the right places, they'd ended Sunday tangled in his sheets. One of her favorite memories of the weekend was Gibbs lying beside her, head propped on one hand, the other gently trailing over every curve and hollow as if trying to memorize every inch of her. His hand looked tanned in comparison to her pale skin as his fingers traced delicately over her.

Encouraging her to roll over, he repeated his gentle caresses on her back, trailing his fingers over the cross tattoo again. Arms wrapped around a pillow, she rested her head on her arms, watching him in the soft light from the bedside lamp. His face was unguarded and blue eyes softer than she could remember seeing before. Barely 48 hours ago she'd been facing another lonely night in her apartment and now she was where she'd wanted to be for so long. Surely nothing could change that, whatever might happen next with the mole hunt?

Chapter 7 - Mole Week or... there's a plot in here somewhere, anyone seen it?

Monday saw Abby back in her lab, mentally preparing herself for the task ahead. Absorbed in working out the science of the 'bait' they intended to use, she was nevertheless unable to stop a smile surfacing regularly, triggered by random thoughts and memories from the weekend.

Standing unnoticed in the door of her lab, Gibbs enjoyed watching her as she moved about her domain. He couldn't stop his lips twitching in a smile as he thought of his alarm call that morning. His first thought on waking had been that the soft warmth he'd gone to sleep wrapped around was missing. His second thought was…

Ungmmm

… as his brain caught up with what his body was already enjoying. A warm, wet tongue was licking its way slowly and teasingly up his length, nails grazing lightly over his inner thighs.

Throwing back the bedclothes so he could enjoy the view of her poised between his legs, he'd hardened even further as he was greeted with the sight and feel of her tongue swirling over the swollen tip. She looked up and caught his eye, grinning, before she took him oh so slowly into her mouth. Dropping his head back against the pillow, he fisted his hands into the sheets, trying not to thrust up into her mouth too roughly. With hands, tongue and mouth, she drove him relentlessly to his release until he all but growled her name as his orgasm hit.

Judging by the smile curving her lips, he hoped she was also thinking about their weekend.

"Penny for your thoughts?" his voice was low in her ear as he invaded her personal space in his usual fashion.

"They're worth a few dollars more than that, Gibbs," she turned to him with a saucy grin, and with a few keystrokes muted the microphones in her lab so they could talk privately. "Actually I'm planning revenge on someone for keeping me on the edge of coming for nearly an hour."

Teasing her unmercifully, he'd used his fingers and mouth to nudge her repeatedly towards her release, backing off each time she was close. When it happened the first time, her first thought was…

What the..?

Raising her head to glare at him, he'd merely grinned at her before pressing almost chaste kisses down her leg.

He's going the wrong way was all her befuddled brain could manage.

Writhing and undulating her hips towards his face, she'd alternated between glaring at him and grabbing him to try and pull him back where she wanted, and when that didn't work, she wasn't above begging. He returned slowly, kissing his way back up her legs to tease her to the edge, enjoying the needy sounds she made, only to back off again… and again.

It was only after her third "Pl-ea-se, Jethro," that he finally relented and redoubled his efforts to send her over the edge. When she'd stopped shaking and could breathe again, she'd raised her head from the pillow to see him resting his head on her thigh, a smug grin on his face.

"Payback is going to be such a bitch," she'd promised him, which had only served to make his grin wider.

Shaking himself out of the memory and back to the present, he quirked a half smile at her, "Sounds like the kind of revenge I'd enjoy."

"Oh, count on it, you will," she shot back, eyes sparkling.

With one of her lightning changes of mood, she turned back to her monitor, suddenly all business, outlining the details of the technique she would use to ensure she was caught 'red-handed' at the appropriate time.


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Events moved swiftly during the week, eventually leading to Abby's 'unmasking.' The only hiccup, unless you counted managing to thoroughly piss off Ducky by 'borrowing' one of his bodies, was when Abby spilled some of the radioactive material in her lab. This resulted in the almost farcical situation where she'd had to ban everyone from her lab, literally shutting the door in their faces, lest they get the stuff on their shoes or clothes and make the detector go off like a siren over everyone instead of just over her hands.

Touched by her friends' reactions to her being led away in handcuffs, she wasn't surprised when McGee visited her in interrogation. She found out later that after she'd been escorted out of the evidence lock-up, he'd confronted the Director and Gibbs and ground out with uncharacteristic forcefulness, "She's not a traitor, boss… Director," before marching out without waiting for a reply.

Unable to say so at the time and schooling his features into his usual neutral expression, Gibbs was nevertheless proud of his junior agent's defense of Abby.

McGee had confronted her in interrogation, risking the wrath of both the Director and Gibbs. He knew her too well and couldn't believe that she would risk losing both her lab and betraying Gibbs, unwittingly hitting the nail on the head when he said she loved both too much for that.

Oh, Tim, if only you knew was her rueful thought.

He kept pressing her, concern written all over his face. Finally unable to keep the truth from him, she hoped that Gibbs would understand how quickly she'd caved in to explain that she wasn't the mole and it was all part of Gibbs' plan. She was warmed by the relieved grin that spread across McGee's face and the kiss to the cheek he gave her. She hoped that his relief at her innocence, and his trust in Gibbs, would offset any resentment he would feel when he learned the full extent of how he and the rest of the team had been kept in the dark. She feared that Tony and Ducky wouldn't be so forgiving…

And so it proved.

As it became clear during the day that the deception had been part of his plan all along, Gibbs faced the reactions of his team for being kept out of the loop. He'd been confident that Ziva would understand the 'need to know' aspect of his plan, given her undercover experience, and that McGee would trust him enough to realize he'd had his reasons for only involving Abby. Ducky, he knew, would feel hurt that he wasn't in on the plan, not to mention being angry over the body snatch.

DiNozzo was the unknown quantity, for once. After last year's undercover operation with Jeanne had ended so disastrously, he knew his senior agent was now overly sensitive to lies and deception. His anger and hurt in autopsy was therefore not altogether a surprise.


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Throughout the week, the days were so long that Abby had been able to spend very little time with Gibbs outside the Navy Yard and certainly no nights.

She missed him.

After such an intense first weekend together, it was difficult being apart from him. The sooner this was over, the sooner they could start spending more time together and perhaps work out some kind of normality as a couple… if ever their lives and jobs could be classed as normal.

On the night which had seen the unveiling of Lee as the real mole, he'd left the night shift of agents tasked with guarding her, overcome with a need to see Abby and made his way to her apartment. She opened her door, conscious of a sense of déjà vu as she let him in. He looked as exhausted as he did that first night.

"Hey, Gibbs," pulling him inside and wrapping her arms around him.

"Wanted to see how you were," he buried his head in her neck, wrapping her in a tight hug, a lot of the tension and anxiety of the day draining away in her warm presence.

Considering it was one of the most stressful and time consuming cases they'd had in months, and with so much riding on it, she was touched that he would spare time to think about her. In truth, he just needed to see her, to wrap her in his arms and shut out the world for one night.

"I'm fine, Gibbs. My time in the crosshairs is over, remember. You guys have all the stress now." Settling on her couch, bourbon bottle on the table, she cuddled into his side, conscious of the similarities and also the differences from… was it only a week ago?

"Do you think Michelle is telling the truth about Amanda?" she broke the comfortable silence, voicing the worry that had been at the forefront of her mind most of the day.

"You mean that Amanda's her daughter or her sister?" he asked, voice hoarse with tiredness.

"And that she's been kidnapped, or that she even exists? Any or all of the above," she gestured, unable to keep the frustration out of her voice.

"Her file shows she has a sister not a daughter, Abbs," he replied, pouring them both a shot of bourbon.

"I know, but given she's lied about everything else so far, my gut tells me not to believe her." She glanced at him to see him incline his head slightly in agreement of her assessment.

"I don't," shaking his head.

"Perhaps she's trying to pass Amanda off as her daughter because she knows it would affect you more?" she commented, almost hesitantly.

Any pity she might feel for Michelle, if the situation with Amanda proved to be real, was muted by the suspicion that she might be cynically using Gibbs' history as a bereaved father to gain his sympathy and help. If that was the case, Abby knew her anger at Michelle for that alone would equal any she might feel about Langer's death. She was just as protective of Gibbs as he was of her and threats to kids was the surest way of getting to him; something Michelle might be all too aware of and not hesitate to exploit.

"I don't know, Abbs. Whatever her relationship to Amanda, if she's been held hostage for eight months, the whys don't matter."

"I know, Gibbs," reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together.

"We gotta find her," he sounded understandably anguished at the thought of the ordeal Amanda might be suffering; eight months was a long time to be held hostage, even for an adult. For a small child, it amounted to a significant portion of their life so far.

"I know, and you will," she sounded confident as always in his abilities, more confident than he felt at the moment. "I should have the results on that hair strand by the morning. I might be able to narrow down her location, or at least where she was held eight months ago when she was supposedly first taken. It'll be a start."

"I know, and you will," rubbing a hand tiredly over his face. She knew he'd been thrown by this new development with Amanda; it unsettled him. The fact that he'd chosen to come to her rather than retreat to his basement warmed her heart even in the midst of everything.

"C'mere," she reached for him and pulled him down to nestle against her, lying full length along her couch. He relaxed against her as she ran her hands gently across his shoulders and back, offering wordless comfort. She knew nothing she could say would help, not this time.

They stayed that way, soothed by each other's presence until he mumbled into her neck, arms tightening around her, "Let's go to bed, Abbs."

He made love to her with such gentleness and heartbreaking tenderness that she was moved nearly to tears. When she tried to whisper her thanks for staying with her and how much she needed him, he'd merely wrapped himself more firmly around her, like her very own Gibbs comfort blanket, and breathed in her ear…

"Needed you too, Abbs."

Chapter 8 â€" The Aftermath

Too impatient to wait for the elevator, Abby ran down one flight of stairs and into autopsy, hearing raised voices as soon as she entered. She skidded to a halt at the sight of Gibbs and Ducky facing off over an autopsy table.

"You need to go to the hospital, Jethro, and get that finger x-rayed," Ducky's exasperation was audible in his voice. His concern for his friend was understandable and predictable, as was Gibbs' equally stubborn response.

"You can x-ray and splint it, Duck."

Abby approached and sought to distract both of them before the argument escalated. "Tony said it was only a flesh wound but I wanted to see for myself." She refrained from revealing how the words Tony used when he called her earlier, 'Gibbs is injured,' had caused her blood to freeze. Walking forward she couldn't take her eyes off his hand, which was still seeping blood onto the bandage Ducky was carefully unwrapping. As she got closer, she could see the make-shift bandage over his eyebrow and the blood smears around his right eye.

"I'm fine, Abbs," was Gibbs typical reply.

His only concession to the concern on her face was to raise his good arm and gather her into his side, burying his nose in her hair and nuzzling close, as if he suddenly needed that extra contact himself, seemingly oblivious of their audience. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him tightly, not caring for now that Ducky was watching them.

Pulling back, Gibbs tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb, cupping her face. There was a tenderness about his actions and an easy intimacy between them both that the medical examiner would have been blind to miss.

Knowing that he would say 'I'm fine' regardless of how badly he was injured, Abby glanced at Ducky for confirmation, catching his intrigued look as he took in their closeness and Gibbs' uncharacteristically unguarded reaction.

"Alright, alright, come over here to the x-ray and I'll see what I can do." Ducky knew when he was fighting a lost cause.

Ducky eyed the two of them with interest while he worked, hiding a smile. Gibbs still had his left arm firmly wrapped around Abby's waist and she looked as if she wasn't about to let him go any time soon either.

Ducky knew how she felt about Gibbs. She'd confided in him long ago and he'd seen how she much she'd suffered when Gibbs left for Mexico several years ago. Along with Tony, he had helped pick up the pieces when she fell apart. It was the first time she'd realized that she loved him and that it wasn't merely a physical attraction she felt towards him. She was utterly lost without him in her life.

But whether Ducky had suspected that Gibbs shared her feelings or had picked up on his attraction to Abby, this was the first time he'd seen such overt evidence of it. Keeping his face neutral, he nevertheless allowed himself an internal 'Yes!' as he took in the subtle evidence of their changed relationship.

Trying to sound reassuring as he got to work, Ducky confirmed, "It does look worse than it is, Abby. As you can see, the finger is broken but it should heal well enough after it's been set and splinted. However, it's going to hurt like hell in the meantime. The head wound is fortunately just superficial."

Dismayed, Abby repeated "Head wound" as she turned to Gibbs to get a closer look at the blood around his eye.

"Just flying glass. I've had worse," he tried to brush it off. Realizing just how close she'd come to losing him today, Abby couldn't keep her hand from trembling as she brushed his hair back from his forehead.

"More to the point, Jethro," Ducky tried to re-start the conversation they'd been having before Abby arrived, "as I was saying just now, Michelle's death is not your fault."

Anguish in his voice, Gibbs flung back, "My bullets killed her."

Ducky was firm. "You had no choice, Jethro, and you saved the lives of the other passengers on that bus. You have nothing to reproach yourself for."

It was hardly a surprise that Gibbs would seek to take responsibility and the blame for tonight's events nearly going belly up, and for the night ending with the death of another agent, even if that agent was the mole. She and Ducky both knew that he felt things too deeply most of the time and was very adept at blaming himself, often unjustly.

Glad that she had Ducky there as an extra voice of reason but still doubting that Gibbs would listen, she felt moved to add, "Ducky's right, Gibbs." Not able to catch his eye when he kept his gaze lowered, she nevertheless tried to push her point home. "Michelle's had months in which to come to you, to the Director, to any of us for help and she chose not to."

Abby had some sympathy for what Michelle had gone through when she'd found out about Amanda, but she kept reminding herself that she had still murdered two men, and that she'd attempted to manipulate the situation right up until the end.

Gibbs glanced at her but remained silent, clearly unconvinced.

She tried again, wanting to get everything she felt out in the open, regardless of whether he would listen. "She had to have known that confiding in you was her best option for getting out of this mess and for getting Amanda back. We tracked down where Amanda was in a day, Gibbs. She could have ended this months ago."

Abby suspected that Gibbs had developed a certain amount of respect for Lee, despite his anger at her actions. The addition of a kidnapped child to the mix had shifted Gibbs' sympathies somewhat, as Michelle had known that it would, presumably. She didn't know the full details of what had happened tonight, other than that Michelle had somehow sacrificed herself. But in doing so, Gibbs had been the one forced to shoot her in order to kill Bankston, to save not only his own life but those of the other people on the bus.

"She crossed the line when she killed Langer." Ducky chipped in, adamant his friend would not walk out of here weighed down with yet another unnecessary burden.

Finishing the splint on his finger and applying fresh bandages, Ducky unconsciously echoed words she and Gibbs had used the previous weekend. "She deliberately chose to sacrifice an innocent man in order to maintain her cover."

His brief glance towards her before dropping his gaze again confirmed that Gibbs had heard the same echo in Ducky's words.

Ducky was determined as he tried to press his point home, "That act alone should mean that your sense of responsibility for what happened tonight should be limited."

"It's not that simple, Duck," Gibbs cut in, sounding increasingly angry. He wanted to pace but Ducky working on his hand prevented it. "And I don't want to talk about it," a note of finality in his voice.

"You don't need to beat yourself up about this... but I know that you will," Abby's soft voice interrupted them as Ducky began cleaning and applying a bandage to the cut above Gibbs' eye. "So you just need to know that we're here when you need us."

Not wanting to take his anger out on Abby when she'd done nothing to deserve it, all Gibbs could do was nod, looking defeated. But he knew he would be seeing Michelle's face mouthing 'Do it' in his nightmares for some time to come. And tomorrow he would have to find a way of telling a little girl that her protector wasn't coming back, a little girl who'd already spent too much of her short life as a prisoner.

Ducky sounded weary as he handed over a bottle of painkillers without much hope his patient would take them, "Take him home, Abby. He needs to rest."

Nodding, Abby gave Ducky a quick hug and then led the way to the elevator. Hand on his shoulder, Ducky stopped Gibbs and told him softly, "I'm very glad you're alive, Jethro. I'm not ready to mourn another friend so soon."

Gibbs reached up and squeezed his friend's hand, acknowledging his reference to losing Jenny, still a raw wound for both of them.

Abby paused the elevator at her lab and Gibbs leaned tiredly against the wall as she collected her bag and coat. He just wanted to go home and retreat to his basement, his exhaustion and feelings of guilt making him feel numb. Walking to his desk, Gibbs nodded at his three agents, collected his gun, badge and coat before heading for the elevator.

Abby kept close to his side, sharing tired smiles with her friends as she followed Gibbs. She couldn't be sure he wouldn't just leave of his own accord if she let him out of her sight and before she could drive him home. She knew he would just need to get out of there and go home. Everyone needed their own way of coping and his was always to be found in his basement, and she didn't want to change that. She just wanted to make sure that he knew she would be there if he needed her, that he didn't have to cope alone.

She didn't expect him to suddenly start pouring out his heart or his feelings to her. That wouldn't be him and she had no desire to change him. He wouldn't be her Gibbs if he changed. But if just by being there, she could help him with some of the burden, then that was enough for her.

But she knew that wasn't likely to happen overnight.

Walking by his side towards his car, she felt him withdrawing from her with every step, his face drawn, and she decided to try and break through before he retreated from her completely. Turning towards him, she said simply, "Which three Bs do you need tonight, Gibbs? Boat, bourbon, basement or bath, bourbon, bed? Or mix and match any of the above?"

Slightly startled at how succinctly she'd summed it up and intrigued by her variation on a theme, he focused on her for the first time since leaving autopsy, finally seeing how much strain she had been under and how tired she looked.

"What are you offering, Abbs?"

"I'm offering whatever you need, Gibbs. If you just need to be alone in your basement, that's fine. Just..." she struggled to express her thoughts without making him withdraw from her further. "Just let me stay so I can at least change those bandages in the morning and make some food. If you want to stay in the basement and climb into a bourbon, that's also fine. After this week, I just might join you in more than a glass or two."

Abby waited while he stared off into the distance. He looked so strained and tired that it was all she could do to stop herself wrapping her arms around him right there and to hell with who saw them.

"Just let me be with you tonight. I nearly lost you and I need to remind myself you're okay," was her final sally when he didn't reply, wondering if she'd gone too far and merely succeeded in pushed him even further away.

Chapter 9 â€" Beginning to Cope

Turning towards her finally, Gibbs sighed heavily and reached out to brush her cheek with his fingertips, blue eyes drawn and tired.

"Take me home, Abbs," was all he said, dropping his car keys into her hand, and she hid her delight at what felt like a major concession.

Ordinarily the chance of driving his beloved Charger would have her bouncing with excitement but she found herself far too conscious of the man beside her to enjoy it. Tension and anger radiated off him in waves. He spent the journey home with his head back, eyes closed and cradling his injured hand.

To anyone who didn't know him well, he would have appeared to be almost dozing. But Abby could see the signs of stress in how stiffly he held himself, shoulders tense and jaw and neck rigid.

She was thankful the evening traffic was light and it wasn't too long before they arrived at his house. "Gibbs, you're home," resisting the urge to say 'we're home' in case he wouldn't welcome her presumption.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he got out of the car. Abby hesitated on the driveway, unsure whether he wanted her to go inside with him… the 'take me home' may have meant that he just wanted a lift home and didn't want her to stay. Her mental babble was cut off when she felt his hand in the small of her back as he shepherded her to his door in his usual fashion.

"Basement?" was all she said when she was inside, taking off her coat. Turning to see him paused in the hallway, eyes tracking her movements, she moved closer and ran her hand gently down his cheek.

"Go," she urged him gently in the direction of the basement door. "Whatever else you need tonight, I know the basement is always a given." She made her way into his kitchen and set about preparing coffee and sandwiches, knowing he'd need the former but unsure if he'd face the latter.

Hesitating only briefly, Gibbs headed upstairs to change into jeans and a sweatshirt, somewhat awkwardly given his bandages. Returning downstairs, he was intercepted by Abby bearing a glass of water, painkillers and wearing a determined expression.

"Ducky will kick my ass if you don't take these." Her gaze dared him to refuse something so sensible, especially as the local anesthetic Ducky had injected into his hand so he could splint the finger would be wearing off soon.

She had an impressive glare of her own when roused and was rarely intimidated by even his fiercest stare. The look which usually had his agents running for cover Abby either ignored or greeted it with a sweet smile. In no mood for a mini stare down at the moment, Gibbs rolled his eyes and took the pills, more to appease Abby than anything else; his preferred choice of painkiller usually resided in a bottle.

"I'm making some sandwiches and coffee. I'll bring them down when it's brewed. I can er… " She dropped her eyes, hands fidgeting nervously. "I can go after that if you'd prefer to be alone?" When he didn't respond, she sighed and started to turn away towards the kitchen.

He caught her arm as she turned and stepped closer, hand reaching up to cup her cheek, his expression unreadable but eyes softer as he caught her gaze. "Stay?" he asked softly, the first words he'd uttered since leaving the Navy Yard.

More relieved than she cared to admit, she gave him a gentle smile in agreement and turned to press a kiss into his palm. He leaned down to press his lips softly to hers before heading off to the sanctuary of the basement.

Hampered somewhat by his injured hand, there were only so many tasks he could accomplish one handed, so he couldn't work out some of the tension in his usual fashion with hard physical work. But there were always more intricate but less physically demanding tasks to do when building a boat â€" sanding, varnishing or painting didn't always require either significant effort or the use of both hands. As he began his usual winding down routine, he knew he'd still find solace in the rhythmic nature of whatever he did.

The aroma of coffee heralded the arrival soon after of Abby with a mug and a plate of sandwiches. He was grateful when she merely placed them on his workbench and retreated upstairs without saying anything. He felt guilty at shutting her out like this, but sensed she was the one person who would understand his need to be alone and his desire for quiet.

His head knew Ducky was right when he'd told him that he'd no choice when he shot Michelle, but his heart still ached at the actions he'd been forced to take. He could still see her grabbing Bankston's gun hand and forcing his aim wide as her eyes begged him to finish it, mouthing 'do it.' In that instant, when she knew Amanda was safe, perhaps she'd seized one last chance at control over everything that was happening to her; control she'd lost months ago as her life started to unravel.

But what would he say to a little girl? What could he say to Amanda?

Upstairs, Abby curled up on the sofa, trying to read. Restless and feeling strangely uneasy, she was finding it hard to concentrate on anything. For the first time, she felt almost like an intruder in his home. She'd looked after him before when he'd been injured, but it hadn't always been in the immediate aftermath of anything â€" he was usually the one comforting her.

For some reason, she found herself suddenly unsure how to cope with him. Considering how well she thought she knew him, that thought unsettled her. Although she wondered how much of that unease was her desire not to harm their fledgling relationship by doing or saying the wrong thing. In some ways, if they'd still been friends, she wouldn't have hesitated in risking his wrath, letting him take his temper out on her almost as a release valve. Now they were lovers, she didn't know if she was doing the right thing in pushing herself on him so quickly. Perhaps she should have left him alone? She didn't want him to feel obliged to let her stay, or to feel that he should spend time with her if all he wanted to do was hole up in his basement.

Oh, stop it, Scuito, you're over-thinking things… again.

Unable to sit still, she got up and headed for the kitchen for a refill.

When in doubt, coffee… huffing a rueful laugh as she continued the thought, perhaps that should be a rule?

Returning to his couch, she resumed reading but found she'd read the same page several times without taking anything in. Giving up, she leaned back to close her eyes, finding sleep tugging at the edges of her consciousness. She'd give it a while and then take him more coffee and then either leave or curl up on the couch to sleep, depending on what mood he was in by then.

Some time later, Gibbs began finding the usual ease and comfort for his mind and body in the rhythmic work, even hampered as he was with one hand effectively out of action. Reaching for the bourbon bottle, his lips twitched slightly as he imagined Ducky's exasperated reaction to mixing painkillers with bourbon. As a concession to Abby, he also ate the sandwiches she'd prepared, finding himself hungrier than he thought.

Eventually, as the ache in his mind and heart eased somewhat even as his hand reminded him of his physical pain, he found himself thinking…

What the hell are you doing, Gunny?

Upstairs was a warm, vibrant woman who had stood by his side to hell and back on many occasions, and who had offered him whatever comfort he needed tonight and here he was, hiding in his basement.

Laying down his tools, he jogged up the stairs, almost bumping into Abby at the top carrying more coffee.

"I was just bringing you a refill, Gibbs," her voice almost hesitant.

Taking the mug from her and putting it down, he wrapped his arms around her, bringing his one good hand up to cradle her head and burying his face in her neck, feeling her familiar scent wash over him. Bringing her arms round to circle his back, she returned his warm hug, feeling the tension vibrating throughout his body.

"Abby," his voice hoarse and filled with emotion. "Need you."

"I'm here," trying to soothe him with her hands, keeping her voice soft.

Still cradling her head, he pulled back and brushed his lips against hers. He'd raced up the stairs, intent on pinning her against the nearest wall, desperate to bury himself deep inside her, but found his urgency draining away as her presence and gentle caresses calmed him.

She led him over to the couch encouraging him to lie down, mindful of his injured hand as she lay down alongside him. He nestled against her, nose nuzzling her hair, resting his bandaged hand on her stomach. She could feel his body gradually relax and his breathing even out as she held him. He eventually raised his head and stared at her intently. "Abbs, I…" he began, only to be cut off by her hand covering his mouth.

"It's okay," her smile was gentle, voice calm. "You don't need to talk to me. You don't need to tell me anything or do anything. Just… just do whatever you need to do to get through this… It's me, remember? I understand, really I do."

He pressed his lips into her palm, trying to thank her with his eyes. There was no hurt or judgment in her face and not for the first time, he found himself amazed and moved by Abby's kind heart and unselfish generosity.

God, he loved this woman and somehow, some day, he'd try and find the words to tell her if he could.

He eased back against her as silence settled over them again. She felt her own tension ease as his warmth pervaded her, enjoying the feel of him around her.

"I'll go and run you a bath in a minute, if you like?" she asked a while later.

"Plan on sharing it with me?" he murmured after a brief pause.

"I'd like to. After all, someone's got to wash your back." She felt him smile against her neck in response. He recognized her attempt to ease the mood and was grateful for it.

"Think I'm running out of Bs to choose from, Abbs. I already started on the bourbon downstairs."

"I think we can stretch a point this time â€" I did say mix and match, remember?" she teased him gently, trying to feel her way through his fragile mood.

"Then it's gotta be bath followed by bed," he eventually responded, "… as long as you join me, Abbs."

Unable to speak past the lump in her throat, she squeezed him gently before turning her head to give him a quick kiss. "Give me a few minutes and then come up."

She wriggled out of his arms and headed upstairs. Relaxing back on the sofa, he was conscious that the residual tension from the day was still there as his mind drifted over the last few tentative minutes.

Abby was trying so hard to let him have the space he needed while not letting him withdraw from her completely. He could sense her nervousness and hated that he was the cause of it. She didn't deserve to be treated like this. He knew he needed to let her in and vowed there and then to try harder.

It was early days in their relationship but he was determined to try and make it work. A relationship with Abby wouldn't be easy, mainly because neither of them could be classed as easy personalities. She was as independent and stubborn as he was, just as much of a workaholic and they shared both a fierce temper and a similar sense of humor. He was sure their fights would be spectacular, as would the making up afterwards, but the most important thing was that she understood him, accepting him for who he was. Perhaps that was another bonus of being friends for so long?

Making his way upstairs, he found Abby bent over the bath, swirling her hand in the running water while candles glowed around the room. Wondering where she'd found those, he paused in the doorway admiring her graceful movements until she caught him staring. Smiling and holding out her hand, she pulled him towards her, kissing him softly.

She took her time undressing him, gentle in her ministrations, before slowly removing her own clothes until she was clad only in her emerald green lace bra and panties. Running his good hand gently over the lacy edge of her bra, brushing her skin gently, he stepped closer, reaching up to release her pigtails and threading his hand through her hair.

He watched as she slowly finished undressing, standing before him almost shyly, given all that they'd shared. He was mesmerized yet again by how beautiful she was and drew her close, feeling his body react but just needing to hold her again.

Abby pulled back gently before she could get too distracted by the feel of him against her and encouraged him to step into the bath. She placed a towel on the edge of the bath so he could rest his hand and save the bandages getting wet. She settled in behind him, legs stretching out either side of his body. Running the wash cloth over his back, she began washing him tenderly, reaching along his arms and chest as far as she could reach.

"Can't reach much of you from here, Abbs," he told her, stroking his good hand up and down her leg. "Planning on staying behind me all the time?"

Swatting him with the cloth, she chided, "Yes… you're supposed to be resting."

Replacing the cloth with her hands, she stroked her fingers across his shoulders and started kneading the knots she could feel in his neck and shoulders. He moaned and let his head fall forward as she patiently worked each one loose. She gradually massaged her way across both shoulders and down the muscles either side of his spine.

She turned his head so she could clean off the remnants of the blood from around his right eye. He shifted slightly so he could lean his head back against her shoulder, eyes closing. She took the opportunity to gaze at this face she loved so much; the strong, fine features looked drawn and tired.

She pulled him back to rest more fully against her, her arms loosely clasped around him across his chest. He raised her hands and gently placed a kiss on each, before returning his head to settle against her shoulder.

"Sure I'm not too heavy?" he asked softly, feeling the tension finally draining away, almost totally at ease for the first time this evening.

Nuzzling his neck, she shook her head, enjoying this moment of peace, content to just hold him. Time drifted until she could sense he was almost asleep in her arms. Reluctant to let him go, she nevertheless forced herself to stir before the water cooled too much. Urging him to his feet, she grabbed towels when she stepped out of the bath and tenderly helped to dry him off. He looked amused, but let her fuss over him.

When they were both dry, she took his hand and still without speaking, led him to the bed, turning on the bedside lamp, sending a soft glow throughout the room. As soon as they were under the covers, he pulled her close and she snuggled into his side willingly.

He said quietly into the silence, "Glad you stayed, Abbs."

"Where else would I be?" was her simple but heartfelt reply.

Chapter 10 â€" Starting to Heal

Resting his injured hand on her back as Abby wrapped her arms around him, Gibbs leaned his cheek on her hair, letting her scent wash over him.

"You should try and sleep, Jethro."

When he didn't reply, she raised her head to see his eyes still held a troubled expression. "Not sure I want to, Abbs… not yet."

Sensing that was subtext for not wanting to be hit with nightmares just yet, she leaned in to kiss him gently, hair trailing across his chest, trying to reassure him in the only way she knew how.

He returned her kiss, deepening it, enjoying the taste and feel of her. She couldn't suppress a slight moan as she felt herself responding to his hunger, as he tried to pour everything he couldn't put into words into his kiss.

Breathing heavily when they broke apart, he searched her dazed eyes, "I need you, Abbs." Slipping his hand to the back of her neck, he pulled her close to nip and kiss his way along her jawline to her neck, breathing out against her skin, "I want you."

Not sure that this was a good idea given his injuries, she nevertheless knew what he was asking… help him forget, if only for a short time. As always, she found herself unable to refuse him anything, and if she were honest with herself, she needed to feel their connection too… needed to feel him deep inside her.

He let her take the lead, content to feel a slow heat build. She kissed her way slowly down his body, re-visiting those sensitive areas she'd memorized that caused the most reaction. He wasn't the only one who knew how to press buttons. Enjoying the sensations she was creating, he relaxed into her touch.

She licked and nibbled her way over his chest, teasing his nipples and tracing her tongue down the line of his navel, causing him to shift restlessly underneath her. Kissing across his hips and down his thighs, her silky hair brushed across his erection, earning her a strangled gasp from his mouth.

Grasping him in both hands, she stroked him softly and he could only moan as she added her lips and tongue to teasing him as he hardened further. Not wanting this to be about tormenting him too much tonight, she soon moved to straddle him, easing herself over him until only the first inch was inside. He growled out her name at the sensations coursing through him as she undulated over the sensitive tip.

Green eyes locked with darkened blue as she sank gradually down, savoring every inch until he was buried inside her. Settling a slow pace, she began rocking back and forth over him, bracing her hands on his shoulders.

He gazed up at her poised above him, captivated by the sight she presented as she closed her eyes, biting her full lower lip, moaning softly as she lost herself in the feel of him. His good hand roamed over her breasts, teasing and caressing.

Sensing neither of them would last long, she increased her pace, grinding herself against him as he thrust up against her. Senses aflame, she tried to hold on through the haze settling over her and leaned forward to murmur in his ear, "Come for me, Jethro."

Almost growling at her words, he surged up to clutch her to him, muffling his cry against her neck, arms tightening almost painfully as the waves of his release ripped through him. She rode out his aftershocks, finally finding the necessary friction to tip herself over the edge.

Feeling dazed, she clung to him as her heartbeat hammered in her chest. Stroking his hand over her back, he held her as she lowered herself over him, still shuddering and trembling. When their breathing had returned to normal, she eased off him and snuggled into his side, wrapping a leg possessively over his, while she drew idle patterns on his chest.

"I'm not sure this is what Ducky had in mind when he said you should be resting," she ventured, laughing softly. "Although judging by the expression on his face in autopsy, I don't think he'd be that surprised at what we've just been doing."

Abby wasn't sure how he'd react to the thought of Ducky guessing about their relationship. Neither of them had planned to reveal so much in front of anyone so soon but the stresses of the day had caused their mask to slip a little. Fortunately it was in front of someone they could both trust completely.

"Yeah, I kinda gave the game away, didn't I?" he acknowledged ruefully, thinking back to his actions in greeting her in autopsy.

They'd always been physically affectionate with each other even in front of their team, but he figured Ducky must have seen something else that gave them away. He remembered wanting her near him and not being able to let her go. There must have been something on their faces or in their actions this time to make it more obvious to their friend.

"It wasn't just you, I was just as responsible. I was so worried about you, I acted on instinct. I just couldn't help myself." She pulled back to search his face but couldn't find any sign of annoyance at the thought of the cat being let out of the bag so soon.

"It's alright, Abbs. Ducky doesn't miss much, even without our… help."

"I'm sure he'll be discreet, he cares about both of us," she offered.

"Yeah, I know he does… you especially," he smiled down at her, hand brushing her hair back behind her ear.

"Ducky's been like a father to me ever since my dad died," she smiled fondly at the thought of the ME who'd become her confidante over the years.

"Then I'll probably be getting the fatherly chat fairly soon… the one that goes, if you hurt her, I'll kick your ass," he mused.

"He cares about you too, Jethro. He'll probably give the same talk to me," she laughed softly. "Don't worry. If we hurt each other, we can always set Ziva on the other. That should be enough of a deterrent for both of us."

"Scary thought," came the wryly amused comment.

Lying quietly, she waited to see if Gibbs was ready to talk any more, amazed and happy that he'd opened up as much as he had already but not expecting any more. She didn't want him to feel that she was pushing him at all. She'd accept whatever pace he was comfortable with.

Thinking he was drifting off to sleep finally when his breathing evened out, she was startled when he spoke again. Surprisingly, he chose to ignore tonight's events and instead focused on their relationship, albeit obliquely.

"Do you think Ducky approves?" His friend's opinion was important to him.

"He does," she blurted out before stuttering to a halt and trying to tuck her head under his chin so he couldn't see her face.

Oops… busted.

He was having none of it though and tilted her head up so he could see her eyes. He quirked an eyebrow, face settling in what she called his best and most irritating poker face.

"How do you know he approves? When did you tell him about us, Abby?"

One of his more valued traits as an investigator and interrogator was his ability to put on a blank mask and make his eyes unreadable. It was also one of his more annoying habits. Even after all these years, she still couldn't read him when he did it.

It didn't take long for her to start fidgeting under his gaze and she pulled away to sit up, cross legged beside him on the bed. "I haven't. I haven't told anyone yet. We agreed we wouldn't say anything yet… if you don't count our… slip in autopsy, I haven't said a word to anyone. Pinkie promise."

"Then how can you be so sure that Ducky approves?" he queried, his tone gentle but eyes still unreadable.

"Umm, well, because he knows how I feel about you."

Unable to meet his clear gaze, she looked down, twisting her fingers in the sheets nervously. "He's known for a long time about my feelings for you, ever since Mexico. He helped me when… when I fell apart when you left." She sneaked a glance up to see something indefinable flash across his face far too quickly for her to read it.

Gathering up her courage, she was determined to get it all out now she'd started, but kept her eyes downcast.

"He's never said anything to indicate he wouldn't approve if we did get together. I know he just wants me to be happy and he'll be pleased that I am, I'm sure of it."

She refrained from saying that Tony also knew how she felt, unsure how he would react to that.

One hurdle at a time.

He was silent for a long time… what felt like too long in her anxious state, before finally reaching out to still her fidgeting hands, asking in a soft voice, "And what are your feelings, Abbs?"

Here we go. This where I frighten him away by going too fast. Why do you always screw it up, Scuito?

Not able to meet his gaze or find her voice, heart hammering in her chest so loudly she felt sure he would hear it, Abby extended her pinkie, then her forefinger and thumb, folding her middle fingers in to her palm and pressed her hand against his chest.

She'd signed I love you to him many times before, as had he in return. But it had always been in circumstances where it could be shrugged off as either friendship or the exuberance of the moment. Here in the more intimate surroundings of his bed, signing it to him suddenly meant so much more.

She'd wanted to tell him that she loved him so many times, not only in the last two weeks but long before now. She'd never found the courage. But given the risks in his job, brought home with a vengeance today, she wanted him to know how she felt about him. It didn't stop her being afraid of how he'd react. Given how quiet he'd become, she felt she'd been right to be worried and felt a fist close around her heart.

Startled out of her thoughts, she saw his hand move into her line of vision which... very deliberately and slowly signed, I love you too.

Her eyes flew up to meet his warm gaze, her breath catching in her throat as she saw his face open and unguarded, for once his emotions plain to see. She felt his hand trail up her arm, across her shoulder to cup her cheek and holding her gaze, he let his slow sexy grin build in response to the dawning delight on her face.

Heart soaring, she stilled her first instinct to launch herself at him, mindful of his injured hand. She settled for grabbing his hand and pressing it against her face, kissing his palm, too overwhelmed to speak. She leaned forward to brush a lingering kiss across his lips, unable to stop a wide smile breaking out on her face when she pulled back, eyes sparkling.

He brushed his fingers across her cheek and across her lips, drinking in the sight of her. She was in his bed and in his heart, and he still found it hard to believe what a lucky bastard he was.

Gibbs pulled her back down and spooned against her, pressing a kiss onto the back of her neck, nuzzling his nose into her hair. She dragged one of the pillows against her stomach so he could rest his injured hand more comfortably, taking care of him as she always did, without fuss.

From the tension of earlier, he now felt a sense of contentment stealing over him. He knew that he was too set in his ways to change quickly or at all, but she was worth every bit of effort. Knowing she were there to share his life was the best healing he could hope for.

"Sleep now," she unconsciously echoed his words from their first night together.

"I'll be here if you need me. I always will," she murmured as they drifted off to sleep and that, in the end, was the most important thing for both of them.

The end