**Good Wives Club**
**October 7, 2004 -- Abby's Lab**
Tony stepped off the elevator and walked into the lab, cringing slightly at the loud music. He made his way across the large room as quickly as possible without allowing the forensic specialist to see him and reached into her office to turn off the stereo.
"Hey!"
He snickered at the younger woman as she narrowed her eyes at him, planting her hands on her hips firmly.
"Minimize all noise..." He quoted, reading the small pamphlet that had been found with both the women that had been kept locked away by the troubled pastor. "At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer, or vacuum. Encourage the children to be quiet."
"I can't believe you're still toting this thing around!" Abby cried, snatching the small booklet out of his hand. "You can't seriously be that misogynistic."
"It's enlightening, you know, to see that you're offended by it." He noted, hopping up so he was sitting on her empty prep table.
She looked up from the book and smirked. "Ooh, 'enlightening'. Big word, Tonyboy." She paused. "So, who is she?"
He cocked an eyebrow at the Goth as she leaned against the workbench across from him.. "Who's who?"
"The girl you're trying to impress with your big words." She smirked, shaking the booklet. "Think she'll be the perfect housewife you're lookin' for?"
Leaning across the small space, he grabbed the booklet back from her and winked. "She'd be a better housewife than you, I'm sure."
"Oh really?" Abby laughed, rolling her eyes at him. "What's your proof?"
"Well, for starters, you never cook for me."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's not true. I've cooked for you plenty of times. When you're sick, when we have movie night, for your birthday...I could go on."
He thought about it for a second before conceding. "Alright, I'm not sure cans of soup and spaghetti count, but I'll give you that one anyway. How about this. You clean up my apartment, which is nice, but you always forget the bathroom."
The Goth pointed a finger at him accusingly. "Because it's always a pigsty. I don't wanna even think about touching it."
"Do I need to mention the attitude?"
"It had better be your attitude you're talkin' about, DiNozzo."
The Italian straightened up immediately at the sound of Gibbs' voice. "Of course, Boss. I'd never think of talkin' to Abby that way."
"You're a pig."
"You love me all the same." He said, laughing when she rolled her eyes at him.
"Thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Gibbs said, standing next to Abby and pressing a kiss to her head. "How long's he been down here?"
The raven-haired woman shrugged. "Not sure. Probably about 15 minutes?"
"Home. Now, DiNozzo."
The younger man grumbled and hopped off the prep table, reaching for it when he realized his balance was a little off. Gibbs sighed and ran a hand over his face before turning to the Goth.
"Take him home. Make sure he gets some rest. Took a pretty big lump on the head today."
She saluted him playfully with the wrong hand. "Yes sir!" She smirked, snatching the small pamphlet out of Tony's hand again and tossing it in the trash can. "You won't be needing that, Tonyboy."
**45 Minutes Later -- Tony's Apartment**
After having made a quick pit stop at the grocery store, they arrived at Tony's apartment and parked the car on the street out front. They headed upstairs and the Italian unlocked the door, allowing Abby to enter the dark apartment ahead of him.
"On the couch with you." She ordered, leading him into the living room. She pushed him onto the couch and handed him the remote for the TV, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his cheek before walking into the kitchen.
"What are you gonna do?" He asked, looking over his shoulder at her.
She smirked, leaning over the kitchen counter. "I'm gonna show you what a real housewife does."
"Oh really?" He growled, waggling his eyebrows at her.
"Get your mind outta the gutter. Would you like a beer?"
"Would I like a beer...what?" He chided, playing along with her little game.
"Would you like a beer, honey? Dear?" She walked over to him and held the opened bottle out. "Or would you prefer Master?"
He looked up at her and smirked before wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her down on his lap. "I like the sound of that. Master. Hmm, you're not being a smart ass, are you?"
"Of course not. You want me to call you Master tonight, so be it. I want you to realize that this isn't really what you want."
"An obedient woman that hangs on my every word? Why wouldn't I want that?" Tony grinned. "Nice touch with the mini apron by the way. Its very housewifey of you."
She rolled her eyes, elbowing him gently before she shifted on his lap. "An obedient woman that hangs on your every word would drive you crazy, Tony. You like arguing too much. There's no way you'd survive in a relationship if she went along with everything you said. Take me,
for example."
"You?"
"Uh huh. We've been friends for a long time now and you know why?"
"I'm sure you're gettin' ready to tell me." Tony smirked, taking a sip of his beer.
"That's right. I've been able to stick around so long because I know you're full of shit and I have no problem calling you on it."
"You know I was just joking earlier, right Abs? I'm sure you'll make a great wife. It'll be a lucky guy who finally reels you in."
She chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder. "Eh, I probably won't ever get married."
Pulling back, he eyed her curiously. "Why not?"
The Goth shrugged. "Just...I don't know. Guess it was just something I decided on not doing a long time ago."
"Your parents weren't happy?"
"Oh, yeah. They were the happiest married couple I've ever seen. I may be biased though, I was just a kid."
"So, what's the problem?" He asked, running his hand over her arm.
"When I was a little girl I used to think about my wedding. I know what you're thinking, alright? Abby, having a typical childhood?" She chuckled quietly. "Well, after my parents died..."
Tony kissed her forehead. "You don't have to talk...if you're uncomfortable."
"No, you asked, so I'll tell you." Abby paused and took a deep breath. "After they died, I guess I couldn't imagine getting married without them there. So I just put it out of my mind."
"Your brother got married, right? I mean, I'm sure he'd give you away."
"It's not even about that. I know Bradley would be more than happy to give me away. In fact, I'm pretty sure it bugs him that I'm not married already." She smiled. "It's just a milestone that I don't wanna do because they won't be there to see it."
The Italian slipped his hand into hers and squeezed gently, unable to form a response to her admission. He knew that her parents were a weak point for her, and she tended to avoid conversations about them whenever possible.
Her quiet sniffle jarred him from his thoughts and when she pulled away from him, he released her. "You alright?" He asked, immediately cursing himself for asking.
"Yeah, I just gotta start dinner." She said, turning away from him and heading into the kitchen.
He sighed, dropping his head back against the couch momentarily before setting his beer on the coffee table and following his friend. Standing in the doorway, he watched her for a second, seeing the way her hands were shaking as she filled up a pot with water before setting it on the stove.
"Abby..."
"Please don't, T." She said, not turning to face him as she dropped some salt into the water. "I'm fine, okay? I just wanna make dinner."
He nodded, crossing the kitchen and meeting her at the stove, wrapping his arms around her from behind to pull her back against his chest. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, letting her know silently that he was there.
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