Fic: Coup de Grâce [7/10]
Title: Coup de Grâce
Author: Jo. R (driftingatdusk)
Rating: FR-15
Pairing: Gibbs/Abby
Category: Drama, Angst, Romance, Case-file,
Spoilers: The S7 episode arc - 'Semper Fi', 'Borderland', 'Patriot Down', 'Rule 51'. Slight for 'Cracked', 'False Witness'
Summary: Sequel to 'La Belle Dame Sans Merci'. Abby's involvement with the NSA, past and present, puts her future at risk.
~*~
They were on their way to the NSA offices when they got the call. Making a small detour and stepping on the gas, Gibbs pulled up alongside Abby's car in a matter of minutes.
What was left of her car.
The windscreen and side windows had been smashed when it had impacted with a tree at the side of the road, the airbags deployed and stained with blood. The back window was also shattered, presumably due to the force of the car that had run her off the road and crushed the trunk.
"There's no body," a worried Catherine told him, striding to meet him as she glanced between him and the car. "If they'd just killed her, they would have left her body for us to find."
The ramifications of what that might mean made his stomach roll and for the first time since he'd begun his career, Gibbs wondered if he was going to embarrass himself by throwing up at the scene. There was only one reason the people who'd followed her would have to keep her alive, and that was to hurt her further.
Silently, Gibbs let his team down the bank towards the car. He glanced through the broken windows, at the shards of glass on the seats, and clenched his hands at the sight of the blood.
So much blood.
Wordlessly, his team began to process the scene, their silence telling him they were just as affected as he was. There was no banter, no jokes between teammates. Just the knowledge that the victim was one of their own and they had no idea where she was.
"Any witnesses see what happened?" Gibbs was pleased his voice not only worked but sounded almost normal, too. He glanced at Catherine when she didn't answer straight away, biting back a sigh at the sight of her shaking her head, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as she fought back the tears shining in her eyes. "Agent Lowry?"
The sound of her name was the jolt she needed. Catherine straightened her back and squared her shoulders. A few moments later, she let her arms drop to her sides. "A witness saw what she thought was an accident. She pulled over ahead to see if she could offer assistance but got back in her car and called 911 when she saw... when she saw what she thought was a body being carried out of Abby's car. The other vehicle was a black van but she has no idea what make or model. We intercepted the call. I was already following Abby because I knew... I knew they'd do this."
He gave her a longer look, studying her. "Did you know what she was planning?"
"No. I made her promise to tell me before she tried anything." Catherine shook her head and glanced away. "I thought I'd made her promise," she corrected herself quietly, "but thinking back, I can't remember her actually saying the words."
A beat of silence passed between them, both thinking about the woman whose car they stood beside.
Tony moved to stand with them, his expression solemn. "It doesn't look good, boss," he said after a moment. "We got a lot of blood, some prints from the doors. It'll be mostly Abby's but..."
"They might've left prints on the doors getting her out," Gibbs finished, nodding slightly. "Good thinking, DiNozzo."
"I, ah, I also found this." Tony hesitated before showing Gibbs the clear plastic evidence bag he held, the white dog tags and broken chain visible inside it. "It was on the floor of the driver's side. Chain's been snapped."
"It's Abby's," Catherine confirmed unnecessarily when Gibbs said nothing and just stared at the bag. "It's the first time I've seen her wear the same necklace more than two days in a row."
"I know." His fingers itched to take it, to slip it in his pocket and keep it close to him as though it were a real connection to the woman it belonged to but Gibbs resisted and slipped his empty hand into his pocket instead. He looked up and held Tony's gaze. The inscription detail of their initials coupled with the Marine's motto would have no doubt confirmed his senior agent's suspicions as to the origin of the necklace - and what that meant for Gibbs' relationship with Abby. "Put it with the rest of the evidence, Tony. Forensics... forensics'll need to go over it."
The minor pause didn't go unnoticed. Tony clenched his jaw to hold back his own emotions and gently lay the evidence bag on top of the box of evidence he carried. "Want me to arrange to have her car towed to the Navy Yard?"
"I'll take care of it." Gibbs tensed his shoulders and gave Catherine a look that dared the NSA agent to argue. "NCIS is taking this case."
Catherine held his eyes for a few moments before she looked away with a sigh. "It's what she would have wanted," she murmured, mostly to herself. Returning her gaze for a moment to Gibbs, Catherine tilted her head. "If you need any assistance, please let me know. I know Abby considered herself yours - NCIS's - more than the NSA's but she was mine, too."
Gibbs acknowledged her with an inclination of his head and said nothing as she walked away. Ziva and McGee joined their boss and teammate on the road, looking down at the mangled remains of the car and stood in silence for a few moments, each thinking but none voicing the same fear: was Abby alive and if so, how long for?
~*~
As the five-week of her anniversary at NCIS approached, Ruby Rae gathered together the evidence from the Sciuto case and put it in a labelled box, ready to be taken to the archives.
The case had run cold, the leads had petered out.
No one at NCIS would admit it but there wasn't anything else to be done and the chances of Abby Sciuto still being alive were slim, if existent at all.
Ruby bit down on her bottom lip and hesitated before putting the lid on the box. She lifted the evidence bag holding the pendant and turned the dog tags over, tracing her finger over the initials engraved on one side through the clear plastic as she pondered what to do with it.
"Hey, Ruby... You ready to go...?" McGee's voice trailed off as he walked closer and saw what she was doing. She watched his jaw tense, an emotion that was gone too fast flashing in his eyes. "What are you doing?"
They were friends first and foremost but in the weeks since she'd been back at NCIS, she'd started to wonder the attraction that she'd felt between them when they first met might not have been as one-sided as she thought. Understanding her actions might put an end to her hopes once and for all, she turned to face to accusation on his face with a certain degree of regret on hers.
"The case is officially cold, Tim," she told him softly, knowing it was unnecessary. He knew it just as well as she did. "It's standard procedure to archive the evidence in case something else comes up later." She set down the evidence bag and reached out to lay her hand on his arm. "I know you miss her. Everyone does. If there was something I could do to bring her back for you, I would."
McGee's expression was unreadable for a moment, his clenched jaw relaxing with a sigh that made her heart ache. He looked past her to the neatly packed box and picked up the bag she'd set down. He remembered seeing Abby wear the necklace, remembered Tony's quick intake of breath as he found it in the car but he'd never looked at it closely before.
He turned the bag over in his hands once he realised the dog tags pendants were engraved, a pained expression on his face at the sight of her cross. He remembered the first time he'd seen the tattoo, remembered standing not far from where he was with Ruby. She'd gotten it after they'd ended their romantic relationship and he wondered if he would always regret not having had the chance of a closer exploration of the painstakingly inked cross.
The Marine motto didn't surprise him; he knew Abby and Gibbs were close and the distance Gibbs had put between himself and the team spoke volumes as to how much he missed their former forensic specialist. The sight of their initials, engraved on the other side of the motto, giving the words a second meaning...
... He waited for the hurt, the sense of betrayal, and sighed when it didn't come.
"This shouldn't go to the lock up," he said quietly, lifting his gaze from the necklace to the woman in front of him. "Well, I know it should. Technically. But..."
"I was thinking of giving it to Agent Gibbs," Ruby admitted, biting her bottom lip again. It was a subconscious gesture, one McGee wasn't sure she was aware she did. One he was struggling not to find endearing. "But I don't know how he'd react. He still doesn't like me."
"He likes you." McGee was quick to reassure her. He shrugged at the sceptical look on her face. "Okay. He doesn't dislike you. He just..."
"... Wishes she was here so I wouldn't have to be. Like all of you." Ruby shrugged when he opened his mouth to deny her claim. "It's okay, Tim. I love it here but I wish Abby was back, too. It's not... It was better when she was here. I liked it more when she was here. I meant what I said. If there was something I could do to bring her back, I would. I know how much you all love her and, selfishly, I'd love to work with her again. She was... is... the best in our field."
McGee closed his hand over the necklace, squaring his shoulders resolutely. "Go put the rest down in lock-up. I'll give this to Gibbs."
Smiling her thanks, Ruby turned away to pick up the box. She glanced over her shoulder at him when she sensed he hadn't left, arching an eyebrow. "If you don't feel like going for a drink tonight, we can put it off...?"
He shook his head at her offer, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "We'll still go." Abby, he decided, would hate the thought of them cancelling because of her.
After another moment's hesitation, he told himself to stop putting it off and turned on his heel, heading to the squad room.
Heading into the lion's den.
~*~
The case was officially cold. Director Vance had taken him aside and told him NCIS could no longer afford or condone using so many resources when it was almost guaranteed she was dead.
While he knew Vance spoke the truth, it wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. Especially not as it had come mere days after McGee had warily handed over the necklace. He winced, remembering the glare he'd given his agent, remembering the cold comment demanding to know if he and Ruby were planning on clearing her personal belongings from the lab, too, to make space for Ruby's own.
The young forensic specialist was good at what she did but she was no Abby. Still, he thought with a sigh and another shot of bourbon, Abby would be the first person to chide him for treating the forensic scientist with so little regard.
With the one case he'd been interested in officially put to the side, Gibbs had let Ducky talk him into going home. He'd turned down the offers of company, preferring to be on his own, but after walking through the door, he'd realised his mistake.
The house was no longer just his home; it was too full of Abby. Everywhere he looked was something that reminded him of her, either a piece of furniture that had moved in with her when they'd decided she wasn't going back to her apartment and wasn't going to bother looking for somewhere else or an item of clothing that had been so carelessly - so rightly - mingled with his own.
He put the bottle back to his lips, drinking it easily.
The memories were hard to live with, too.
Although he was loathe to think of her as dead, it felt at times like her ghost had joined those that already existed in his house and he imagined sometimes, usually after too much to drink and not enough sleep, that Abby and Shannon stood side by side, watching him in concerned disapproval as he drove himself into an early grave.
At least then he'd be with them both again, he told himself morbidly. He'd be with them and Kelly and he wouldn't be alone.
Almost as soon as the thought had formed, he glanced down at the bourbon bottle. Maybe he'd had too much; maybe he hadn't had enough. Maybe, he thought, he should stop drinking from the bottle and...
A creak on the stairs caught his attention. He fumbled for his gun, swearing when he dropped the necklace in his attempts at reaching his weapon.
As he bent to pick up the chain and pendant, he realised it was definitely a sign that he'd drunk too much and glanced up at the black-haired woman walking down the steps in his basement.
For a split-second, his heart stopped and he thought it was Abby. But then the drunken cloud receded and the haze cleared enough for him to recognise the woman looking at him wasn't the one he wanted it to be.
"Not in the mood for entertaining." His fingers closed around the necklace and he righted himself on his stool.
Allison shrugged and crossed the room, taking the bottle from his hand. She met little resistance, his grip tightening on the pendant as she approached instead, and helped herself, her brow creasing as the alcohol hit the back of her throat and burnt its way down. "They say misery loves company. Might as well test the theory."
He took the bottle back with a scowl. "I want to be alone."
"Too bad. I don't." She started to move towards the lone chair in the basement, changed course at the fierce look that crossed over his features. "I heard about Abby. I'm sorry."
Gibbs snorted and took another swig of bourbon, the dog tags burning his palm. "Sure you are."
"I liked her," Allison continued, almost as he hadn't spoken. "She was a good person. Great at what she did." She shrugged again when he continued to stare at her but held his gaze. "She loved you, and it must've cost her a lot to give me the report on the Hernadez case."
"She did what I told her." It was his turn to shrug, his gaze shifting to stare past her. "She did what she had to."
Allison shook her head and sighed as she leaned against the work table. "She took a chance that I'd be able to help you because she hated that she couldn't. She should've given the report directly to Alejandro but she didn't. She was protecting you, even then."
"Even then?" He arched an eyebrow, returning his attention to her face.
"Before you were lovers," she clarified, arching an eyebrow of her own when he stared at her. "Am I not supposed to know...?"
He stared at her in silence for several minutes before shrugging again, taking another sip from the bottle.
"It's fine that you don't want to talk." She stood up and walked towards him. She smiled when he looked up and reached for the bottle again. "Can't say I'm feeling talkative myself."
Gibbs let her take the bottle, watching her drink. Her reaction to the bourbon amused some part of him, while another part hoped it gave her a hangover from hell. He waited a moment, sure she had more to say. When she said nothing, he took the bottle back and used it to motion to the stairs. "Door's that way."
"I know, I came through it on my way in," she retorted smartly.
Her retort reminded him wistfully of Abby, Abby who'd never been afraid to stand up to him - not when it mattered - and he chased the thought away with another swig.
"Look, I don't want anything." She said with a sigh, rolling her eyes when he just looked at her. "You're unavailable, I'm unavailable. I just wanted company and figured since you were in the same boat, you might want some, too. Drinking with someone else is slightly less pathetic than drinking alone or so I've been told."
Again, he let silence be his answer and, again, he let her take the bottle from his hand.
Several moments passed without either of them saying a word, just passing the bourbon bottle between them. Allison handed it back and pushed herself off from the bench beside him where she'd been standing, pacing the basement, picking up the hand tools and inspecting them carefully before setting them down again.
After watching her for a while, Gibbs put the bottle down but was careful to keep hold of the necklace concealed in his palm. "Something on your mind?"
She laughed shortly, an unhappy sound that didn't surprise him. "A lot of things."
"Someone on your mind?" When she turned slowly to look at him, Gibbs knew he was right. He shrugged at the mild surprise on her face. "You said we were in the same boat."
Allison tried to smile but it was strained, her eyes glinting suspiciously. To Gibbs' relief, she looked down at her hands as she tried to compose herself. A few minutes later, she answered his question, her quiet voice carrying in the otherwise silent house. "I met him when I was away. Told him all about the situation with the Reynosa cartel and expected him to run a mile but he didn't. He stayed. Told me about his situation, promised he'd keep me safe as much as he could..." One shoulder rose and fell. "He's a good guy at heart, just sometimes has to do things he doesn't like to make sure the people he loves are safe." Glancing at him through a veil of dark hair, her smile was small. "He reminds me of you in that way."
Gibbs didn't respond to the comparison but held her gaze. "Where is he now?"
Her smile faded and a troubled expression crossed over her face. "I'm not really sure. He has a very demanding boss and his line of work..." Her voice trailed off on a sigh. "I keep telling myself I'd know if something had happened to him, that they'd tell me, but I'm not so sure they would."
He couldn't comfort her, not with his own grief so close to the surface. Instead, Gibbs pushed away from the workbench, still clutching the necklace and headed for the stairs. "Spare room's out of action." It was full, he knew, of the furniture from Abby's apartment that hadn't yet found a home in his house. "The couch is yours if you want it."
Allison followed him up stairs, her voice soft but grateful. "Thank you."
~*~
Author: Jo. R (driftingatdusk)
Rating: FR-15
Pairing: Gibbs/Abby
Category: Drama, Angst, Romance, Case-file,
Spoilers: The S7 episode arc - 'Semper Fi', 'Borderland', 'Patriot Down', 'Rule 51'. Slight for 'Cracked', 'False Witness'
Summary: Sequel to 'La Belle Dame Sans Merci'. Abby's involvement with the NSA, past and present, puts her future at risk.
~*~
They were on their way to the NSA offices when they got the call. Making a small detour and stepping on the gas, Gibbs pulled up alongside Abby's car in a matter of minutes.
What was left of her car.
The windscreen and side windows had been smashed when it had impacted with a tree at the side of the road, the airbags deployed and stained with blood. The back window was also shattered, presumably due to the force of the car that had run her off the road and crushed the trunk.
"There's no body," a worried Catherine told him, striding to meet him as she glanced between him and the car. "If they'd just killed her, they would have left her body for us to find."
The ramifications of what that might mean made his stomach roll and for the first time since he'd begun his career, Gibbs wondered if he was going to embarrass himself by throwing up at the scene. There was only one reason the people who'd followed her would have to keep her alive, and that was to hurt her further.
Silently, Gibbs let his team down the bank towards the car. He glanced through the broken windows, at the shards of glass on the seats, and clenched his hands at the sight of the blood.
So much blood.
Wordlessly, his team began to process the scene, their silence telling him they were just as affected as he was. There was no banter, no jokes between teammates. Just the knowledge that the victim was one of their own and they had no idea where she was.
"Any witnesses see what happened?" Gibbs was pleased his voice not only worked but sounded almost normal, too. He glanced at Catherine when she didn't answer straight away, biting back a sigh at the sight of her shaking her head, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as she fought back the tears shining in her eyes. "Agent Lowry?"
The sound of her name was the jolt she needed. Catherine straightened her back and squared her shoulders. A few moments later, she let her arms drop to her sides. "A witness saw what she thought was an accident. She pulled over ahead to see if she could offer assistance but got back in her car and called 911 when she saw... when she saw what she thought was a body being carried out of Abby's car. The other vehicle was a black van but she has no idea what make or model. We intercepted the call. I was already following Abby because I knew... I knew they'd do this."
He gave her a longer look, studying her. "Did you know what she was planning?"
"No. I made her promise to tell me before she tried anything." Catherine shook her head and glanced away. "I thought I'd made her promise," she corrected herself quietly, "but thinking back, I can't remember her actually saying the words."
A beat of silence passed between them, both thinking about the woman whose car they stood beside.
Tony moved to stand with them, his expression solemn. "It doesn't look good, boss," he said after a moment. "We got a lot of blood, some prints from the doors. It'll be mostly Abby's but..."
"They might've left prints on the doors getting her out," Gibbs finished, nodding slightly. "Good thinking, DiNozzo."
"I, ah, I also found this." Tony hesitated before showing Gibbs the clear plastic evidence bag he held, the white dog tags and broken chain visible inside it. "It was on the floor of the driver's side. Chain's been snapped."
"It's Abby's," Catherine confirmed unnecessarily when Gibbs said nothing and just stared at the bag. "It's the first time I've seen her wear the same necklace more than two days in a row."
"I know." His fingers itched to take it, to slip it in his pocket and keep it close to him as though it were a real connection to the woman it belonged to but Gibbs resisted and slipped his empty hand into his pocket instead. He looked up and held Tony's gaze. The inscription detail of their initials coupled with the Marine's motto would have no doubt confirmed his senior agent's suspicions as to the origin of the necklace - and what that meant for Gibbs' relationship with Abby. "Put it with the rest of the evidence, Tony. Forensics... forensics'll need to go over it."
The minor pause didn't go unnoticed. Tony clenched his jaw to hold back his own emotions and gently lay the evidence bag on top of the box of evidence he carried. "Want me to arrange to have her car towed to the Navy Yard?"
"I'll take care of it." Gibbs tensed his shoulders and gave Catherine a look that dared the NSA agent to argue. "NCIS is taking this case."
Catherine held his eyes for a few moments before she looked away with a sigh. "It's what she would have wanted," she murmured, mostly to herself. Returning her gaze for a moment to Gibbs, Catherine tilted her head. "If you need any assistance, please let me know. I know Abby considered herself yours - NCIS's - more than the NSA's but she was mine, too."
Gibbs acknowledged her with an inclination of his head and said nothing as she walked away. Ziva and McGee joined their boss and teammate on the road, looking down at the mangled remains of the car and stood in silence for a few moments, each thinking but none voicing the same fear: was Abby alive and if so, how long for?
~*~
As the five-week of her anniversary at NCIS approached, Ruby Rae gathered together the evidence from the Sciuto case and put it in a labelled box, ready to be taken to the archives.
The case had run cold, the leads had petered out.
No one at NCIS would admit it but there wasn't anything else to be done and the chances of Abby Sciuto still being alive were slim, if existent at all.
Ruby bit down on her bottom lip and hesitated before putting the lid on the box. She lifted the evidence bag holding the pendant and turned the dog tags over, tracing her finger over the initials engraved on one side through the clear plastic as she pondered what to do with it.
"Hey, Ruby... You ready to go...?" McGee's voice trailed off as he walked closer and saw what she was doing. She watched his jaw tense, an emotion that was gone too fast flashing in his eyes. "What are you doing?"
They were friends first and foremost but in the weeks since she'd been back at NCIS, she'd started to wonder the attraction that she'd felt between them when they first met might not have been as one-sided as she thought. Understanding her actions might put an end to her hopes once and for all, she turned to face to accusation on his face with a certain degree of regret on hers.
"The case is officially cold, Tim," she told him softly, knowing it was unnecessary. He knew it just as well as she did. "It's standard procedure to archive the evidence in case something else comes up later." She set down the evidence bag and reached out to lay her hand on his arm. "I know you miss her. Everyone does. If there was something I could do to bring her back for you, I would."
McGee's expression was unreadable for a moment, his clenched jaw relaxing with a sigh that made her heart ache. He looked past her to the neatly packed box and picked up the bag she'd set down. He remembered seeing Abby wear the necklace, remembered Tony's quick intake of breath as he found it in the car but he'd never looked at it closely before.
He turned the bag over in his hands once he realised the dog tags pendants were engraved, a pained expression on his face at the sight of her cross. He remembered the first time he'd seen the tattoo, remembered standing not far from where he was with Ruby. She'd gotten it after they'd ended their romantic relationship and he wondered if he would always regret not having had the chance of a closer exploration of the painstakingly inked cross.
The Marine motto didn't surprise him; he knew Abby and Gibbs were close and the distance Gibbs had put between himself and the team spoke volumes as to how much he missed their former forensic specialist. The sight of their initials, engraved on the other side of the motto, giving the words a second meaning...
... He waited for the hurt, the sense of betrayal, and sighed when it didn't come.
"This shouldn't go to the lock up," he said quietly, lifting his gaze from the necklace to the woman in front of him. "Well, I know it should. Technically. But..."
"I was thinking of giving it to Agent Gibbs," Ruby admitted, biting her bottom lip again. It was a subconscious gesture, one McGee wasn't sure she was aware she did. One he was struggling not to find endearing. "But I don't know how he'd react. He still doesn't like me."
"He likes you." McGee was quick to reassure her. He shrugged at the sceptical look on her face. "Okay. He doesn't dislike you. He just..."
"... Wishes she was here so I wouldn't have to be. Like all of you." Ruby shrugged when he opened his mouth to deny her claim. "It's okay, Tim. I love it here but I wish Abby was back, too. It's not... It was better when she was here. I liked it more when she was here. I meant what I said. If there was something I could do to bring her back, I would. I know how much you all love her and, selfishly, I'd love to work with her again. She was... is... the best in our field."
McGee closed his hand over the necklace, squaring his shoulders resolutely. "Go put the rest down in lock-up. I'll give this to Gibbs."
Smiling her thanks, Ruby turned away to pick up the box. She glanced over her shoulder at him when she sensed he hadn't left, arching an eyebrow. "If you don't feel like going for a drink tonight, we can put it off...?"
He shook his head at her offer, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "We'll still go." Abby, he decided, would hate the thought of them cancelling because of her.
After another moment's hesitation, he told himself to stop putting it off and turned on his heel, heading to the squad room.
Heading into the lion's den.
~*~
The case was officially cold. Director Vance had taken him aside and told him NCIS could no longer afford or condone using so many resources when it was almost guaranteed she was dead.
While he knew Vance spoke the truth, it wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. Especially not as it had come mere days after McGee had warily handed over the necklace. He winced, remembering the glare he'd given his agent, remembering the cold comment demanding to know if he and Ruby were planning on clearing her personal belongings from the lab, too, to make space for Ruby's own.
The young forensic specialist was good at what she did but she was no Abby. Still, he thought with a sigh and another shot of bourbon, Abby would be the first person to chide him for treating the forensic scientist with so little regard.
With the one case he'd been interested in officially put to the side, Gibbs had let Ducky talk him into going home. He'd turned down the offers of company, preferring to be on his own, but after walking through the door, he'd realised his mistake.
The house was no longer just his home; it was too full of Abby. Everywhere he looked was something that reminded him of her, either a piece of furniture that had moved in with her when they'd decided she wasn't going back to her apartment and wasn't going to bother looking for somewhere else or an item of clothing that had been so carelessly - so rightly - mingled with his own.
He put the bottle back to his lips, drinking it easily.
The memories were hard to live with, too.
Although he was loathe to think of her as dead, it felt at times like her ghost had joined those that already existed in his house and he imagined sometimes, usually after too much to drink and not enough sleep, that Abby and Shannon stood side by side, watching him in concerned disapproval as he drove himself into an early grave.
At least then he'd be with them both again, he told himself morbidly. He'd be with them and Kelly and he wouldn't be alone.
Almost as soon as the thought had formed, he glanced down at the bourbon bottle. Maybe he'd had too much; maybe he hadn't had enough. Maybe, he thought, he should stop drinking from the bottle and...
A creak on the stairs caught his attention. He fumbled for his gun, swearing when he dropped the necklace in his attempts at reaching his weapon.
As he bent to pick up the chain and pendant, he realised it was definitely a sign that he'd drunk too much and glanced up at the black-haired woman walking down the steps in his basement.
For a split-second, his heart stopped and he thought it was Abby. But then the drunken cloud receded and the haze cleared enough for him to recognise the woman looking at him wasn't the one he wanted it to be.
"Not in the mood for entertaining." His fingers closed around the necklace and he righted himself on his stool.
Allison shrugged and crossed the room, taking the bottle from his hand. She met little resistance, his grip tightening on the pendant as she approached instead, and helped herself, her brow creasing as the alcohol hit the back of her throat and burnt its way down. "They say misery loves company. Might as well test the theory."
He took the bottle back with a scowl. "I want to be alone."
"Too bad. I don't." She started to move towards the lone chair in the basement, changed course at the fierce look that crossed over his features. "I heard about Abby. I'm sorry."
Gibbs snorted and took another swig of bourbon, the dog tags burning his palm. "Sure you are."
"I liked her," Allison continued, almost as he hadn't spoken. "She was a good person. Great at what she did." She shrugged again when he continued to stare at her but held his gaze. "She loved you, and it must've cost her a lot to give me the report on the Hernadez case."
"She did what I told her." It was his turn to shrug, his gaze shifting to stare past her. "She did what she had to."
Allison shook her head and sighed as she leaned against the work table. "She took a chance that I'd be able to help you because she hated that she couldn't. She should've given the report directly to Alejandro but she didn't. She was protecting you, even then."
"Even then?" He arched an eyebrow, returning his attention to her face.
"Before you were lovers," she clarified, arching an eyebrow of her own when he stared at her. "Am I not supposed to know...?"
He stared at her in silence for several minutes before shrugging again, taking another sip from the bottle.
"It's fine that you don't want to talk." She stood up and walked towards him. She smiled when he looked up and reached for the bottle again. "Can't say I'm feeling talkative myself."
Gibbs let her take the bottle, watching her drink. Her reaction to the bourbon amused some part of him, while another part hoped it gave her a hangover from hell. He waited a moment, sure she had more to say. When she said nothing, he took the bottle back and used it to motion to the stairs. "Door's that way."
"I know, I came through it on my way in," she retorted smartly.
Her retort reminded him wistfully of Abby, Abby who'd never been afraid to stand up to him - not when it mattered - and he chased the thought away with another swig.
"Look, I don't want anything." She said with a sigh, rolling her eyes when he just looked at her. "You're unavailable, I'm unavailable. I just wanted company and figured since you were in the same boat, you might want some, too. Drinking with someone else is slightly less pathetic than drinking alone or so I've been told."
Again, he let silence be his answer and, again, he let her take the bottle from his hand.
Several moments passed without either of them saying a word, just passing the bourbon bottle between them. Allison handed it back and pushed herself off from the bench beside him where she'd been standing, pacing the basement, picking up the hand tools and inspecting them carefully before setting them down again.
After watching her for a while, Gibbs put the bottle down but was careful to keep hold of the necklace concealed in his palm. "Something on your mind?"
She laughed shortly, an unhappy sound that didn't surprise him. "A lot of things."
"Someone on your mind?" When she turned slowly to look at him, Gibbs knew he was right. He shrugged at the mild surprise on her face. "You said we were in the same boat."
Allison tried to smile but it was strained, her eyes glinting suspiciously. To Gibbs' relief, she looked down at her hands as she tried to compose herself. A few minutes later, she answered his question, her quiet voice carrying in the otherwise silent house. "I met him when I was away. Told him all about the situation with the Reynosa cartel and expected him to run a mile but he didn't. He stayed. Told me about his situation, promised he'd keep me safe as much as he could..." One shoulder rose and fell. "He's a good guy at heart, just sometimes has to do things he doesn't like to make sure the people he loves are safe." Glancing at him through a veil of dark hair, her smile was small. "He reminds me of you in that way."
Gibbs didn't respond to the comparison but held her gaze. "Where is he now?"
Her smile faded and a troubled expression crossed over her face. "I'm not really sure. He has a very demanding boss and his line of work..." Her voice trailed off on a sigh. "I keep telling myself I'd know if something had happened to him, that they'd tell me, but I'm not so sure they would."
He couldn't comfort her, not with his own grief so close to the surface. Instead, Gibbs pushed away from the workbench, still clutching the necklace and headed for the stairs. "Spare room's out of action." It was full, he knew, of the furniture from Abby's apartment that hadn't yet found a home in his house. "The couch is yours if you want it."
Allison followed him up stairs, her voice soft but grateful. "Thank you."
~*~