Fic: Incidentally in Love [1/1]
Title: Incidentally In Love
Author: Jo. R (driftingatdusk)
Rating: FR-13 at most
Pairing: Abby/Gibbs
Spoilers: Slight for 'Borderland'
Summary: An incident makes Gibbs re-evaluate the parameters of his relationship with Abby.
Written as a thank you for teenagewitch in the 2011 gaficathon for stepping in at the last minute. Thank you, Jennie!
****
It wasn't often the lab was silent. If there wasn't the usual booming of music from the speakers just inside the glass doors of Abby's office, he would expect to be able to hear the sound of her voice as she animatedly explained her findings to a fellow agent or just chatted in general to one of her many visitors to the lab.
The silence disturbed him, and very few things disturbed Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
He set the bright coloured plastic cup of Caf-Pow! down on the work bench beside the computer, the stool in front of the desk conspicuously empty. His blue eyes narrowed as he looked through the glass doors to the office, his sense of concern growing when he sat that that desk, too, was vacant.
Gibbs glanced at his watch, frowning at the time. It was mid-afternoon, well after lunch. He knew she'd gone out with Ducky to grab something to eat, remembered the way she'd pouted and looked at him from beneath her long eyelashes as she'd tried to coax him into joining them.
Thinking back, he couldn't remember seeing the two of them return. They would've had to pass through the squad room on their way back to their respective areas in the building and he hadn't left his desk all afternoon, choosing instead to have a quick lunch at his desk.
He reached for his cell phone as he wandered into the office, wondering if maybe she'd managed to sneak by him and was in the ballistics room or taking a nap on the floor behind her desk. He dialled Abby's cell phone first, listening to it ring as he walked into the ballistics room, did a quick sweep of it with his eyes before turning on his heel and walking back into the main area of the lab.
Her phone continued to ring, until her voice mail message kicked in. Her voice, cheery and familiar, made him tighten his hand on the phone he held to his ear as he retraced his steps towards the elevator.
"Hi, this is Abby. Leave a message and I'll get back to you unless I don't like you! Just kidding!"
He smiled in spite of himself at the sound of her voice but hung up without leaving a message. He punched in the lower level and waited impatiently for the elevator to reach the morgue, barely waiting for the doors to open fully before making his way to Doctor Ducky Mallard's domain.
The room wasn't empty when he walked in but, instead of the Medical Examiner and the Forensic Specialist he'd been expecting, Gibbs was met by Ducky's assistant, Jimmy Palmer.
"Hey, Agent Gibbs." Jimmy's smile was nervous, as it always was around the Special Agent. "What brings you down here? Not... Not that it's nice to see you, of course. It's always nice to see you... Well, usually that means someone's been killed and that's not nice but..."
"Palmer." Gibbs silenced him mid-flow, arching an eyebrow impatiently. Incoherent babble from Abby was one thing; the ME assistant's nervous ramblings was another and something he had little patience for. "Is Ducky around?"
"No, Sir." Jimmy frowned at him. "He hasn't come back from lunch. I thought you and Abby were going with him?"
Gibbs' frown deepened. "Abby went. He hasn't called to explain why he's not back yet?"
"No. No, he hasn't called." Jimmy blinked at him through his dark rimmed glasses. "You don't think anything's happened, do you? It's not like Doctor Mallard to be late back from lunch. Or Abby."
Gibbs wasn't listening. His cell phone was back in his hand as he turned to walk out of the lab, dialling Ducky's cell phone number with one hand as he punched the button to call the elevator back with the other. When Ducky's phone rang out just like Abby's had, the concern he felt blossomed into fully fledged concern.
"Duck. Where are you?" was the message he left on the cell phone, snapping it shut with a little more force than necessary as he paced the small space of the metal box, waiting impatiently for it to reach the bullpen. As soon as the doors opened, he strode out towards his agents desks, doing his best to keep his feelings from showing on his face.
"McGee," he called out brusquely, making a beeline for the younger agent's desk.
He pretended not to notice Tony DiNozzo hurriedly lowering his feet from the desk where they'd been propped up while he simultaneously tried to hide a magazine in the top drawer of his desk just as he pretended not to notice McGee click to close whatever it was he was looking at on his computer screen. Out of his three agents, Ziva David was the only one who continued what she was doing, an almost smug smile on her face as she continued typing away at the report she was writing.
"Yes, Boss?" McGee looked at him with an expression that was a combination of caught-in-headlights-surprise and caught-with-hand-in-the-cookie-jar-guilt.
"Track Abby's cell."
The terse order caught the attention of the other members of the team in an instant. As McGee got to work, his fingers flying over the keyboard in a way Gibbs didn't envy but could never match, Tony and Ziva got to their feet to join their boss beside his desk.
"Is something wrong with Abby?" Ziva asked quietly, her eyes dark with concern when Gibbs glanced up at her.
"Don't know yet."
"She went to lunch with Ducky, didn't she?" Tony glanced down at his watch, his own eyes widening as he realised the time. "Two and a half hours ago?"
Gibbs nodded shortly. "Neither of them are back yet." He redialled Abby's number and held his phone to his ear. "DiNozzo..."
"I'll keep calling Ducky's phone," Tony finished for him, heading back to his own desk. It didn't need to be said that his boss would be trying the forensic specialist.
McGee frowned at the screen, lifting his gaze to look at Gibbs. "Both Abby and Ducky's cell phones are stationary, at an address downtown. Looks like they're still at lunch."
Gibbs looked to Tony, his stomach churning when his agent shook his head in the negative to confirm Ducky's phone was still unanswered. Director Leon Vance started down the stairs from MTAC, his expression solemn. Ziva stood straighter, drawing her teammates attention to the arrival of their Director.
"Agent Gibbs." Director Vance addressed the senior agent of the team quietly. "If I could have a moment..."
"No." Gibbs' eyes narrowed as he stared at the Director, his gut clenching uncomfortably. "What's going on, Leon?"
Director Vance didn't squirm under the weight of the infamous Gibbs glare but the agents around him did on his behalf. "I just got off the phone with Metro. There was an incident at a restaurant downtown, an attempted robbery during lunch hour. Doctor Mallard and Ms. Sciuto were dining at the time..." The Director held up a hand when McGee and Tony shot up from their seats and Ziva took a half-step towards him. "I've been assured they're fine. The situation is under control and the diners have been released. They're en route to the Navy Yard as we speak."
Gibbs watched his three agents deflate and wished he could share in their obvious relief. His gut wouldn't let him, however, and he stared hard at Vance, wondering what the Director wasn't telling them. "What else?" He prompted, when Vance remained silent.
At the sound of his voice, the three agents grew more alert. They watched with interest they made only a cursory attempt at hiding as the two men faced off.
"Ms. Sciuto was apparently injured in the initial panic when the other diners realised what was happening," Vance said after a long pause. He held Gibbs' gaze evenly. "I heard her in the background insisting she was fine so I wouldn't worry too much."
"Injured how?"
"I'm unsure how it happened or the extent of her injuries." Director Vance waited a beat. "They'll be here soon, Gibbs. I just thought I'd keep you informed."
Gibbs nodded curtly and moved to sit at his own desk. It escaped no one's notice that his gaze drifted over to the bank of elevators every time the bell rang to announce its arrival but he didn't care; the sooner Abby and Ducky were back, the sooner he could reassure himself that two of the people he cared about most were okay.
****
"I'm fine, Ducky." Abby Sciuto folded her arms over her chest, mindful of the sprained wrist that had already swollen to twice its usual size. She glared at the ME as he ignored her and continued to dab at the still bleeding wound on her forehead with a handkerchief.
"It seems, my dear, that while you make an able nurse when someone else is injured, you're a very poor patient yourself." Ducky arched an eyebrow at her, an almost amused glint in his blue eyes. "Sounds like someone else we both know, doesn't it?"
Abby rolled her eyes at him, unable to see the amusement in the situation. She was, she would admit, a little embarrassed that she'd been hurt in the afternoon's events. It wasn't as if she'd been doing something heroic or even that the two guys who'd tried robbing the restaurant had hurt her themselves. She'd tripped over a chair that had been pushed back by a fellow diner, who had been attempting to flee the scene himself. He'd apologised profusely when she'd fallen, evidently more horrified at having caused her injuries at the chaos that was going on around them.
It wouldn't have been so bad, Abby thought, if she hadn't knocked her head on the table she'd been standing beside, hurting her wrist when she'd tried to break her fall. Falling over ungracefully in the midst of so much panic would have been acceptable if only she hadn't hurt herself. By hurting herself, she'd caused a scene and found she was at the centre of almost as much attention at the two men trying to get illegal compensation from the restaurant owners for firing one of their girlfriends.
"I'm fine." She scowled and batted his hand away. "It's just a scratch."
Ducky's amusement faded and a stern expression took its place. "It's more than a scratch, Abigail. Few scratches need stitches and that gash most certainly does. You really should have allowed them to take you to hospital."
A pink hue blossomed in her pale cheeks and she took the handkerchief from him, obediently pressing it against her head. "I didn't want to cause a fuss."
The Medical Examiner patted her hand companionably, his expression sympathetic though the glimmer of amusement returned to his face. "You might wish you did when Jethro catches sight of you. He won't be too happy you went again medical advice..."
Abby snorted indelicately and rolled her eyes. "Like he's never gone against what you've told him."
"Do what I say, not what I do." Ducky arched an eyebrow. "It's almost an unwritten rule."
Knowing he was right, Abby squared her shoulders as the elevator reached the third floor. She braced herself for the inevitable as the metal doors parted, taking a deep breath and forcing a bright smile on her face as she stepped out with Ducky on her heels.
****
The bloody handkerchief pressed to her forehead was the first thing he noticed, the swollen wrist in which she used was the second. Tearing his gaze from Abby's sheepish smile, Gibbs looked to Ducky, frowning when the ME shrugged his shoulders helplessly.
"It's nothing I can't take care of," Ducky assured the Special Agent almost cheerfully. "There'll be ice in the morgue and I'm sure with a few stitches, she'll be as good as new..."
Gibbs wasn't listening. He stood as Abby walked passed his desk, ushered forward by Ducky, and moved to stand in their way. Ignoring the almost knowing smirk on his old friend's face, Gibbs lifted his hand to Abby's face, gently moving the handkerchief so he could study her injury for himself. "It's deep. Should've gone to hospital, Abs."
"Ducky can take care of it." She shrugged a shoulder but made no attempt at breaking free. "It's probably not as bad as it looks."
"Take it you haven't seen it." He reluctantly let his hand drop away from her face and took a step back, glancing at Ducky. "You sure you can take care of it here?"
"I'm positive, Jethro. Give me thirty minutes and she'll be ready for you to take home." Ducky steered Abby towards the far bank of elevators, ignoring her startled look. "You can't go home alone, my dear. You might have a concussion."
With Abby's protests fading as she was led away, Gibbs sat down at his desk, resisting the urge to watch her go, knowing his agents would be studying him for his reaction. He glanced up after a few minutes, schooling his features into a nonchalant expression as he arched an eyebrow.
"Don't you all have reports to finish?"
As one, the three agents quickly returned their attention to their computers, each tapping at their keyboards once more.
****
One ice pack and seven stitches later, Abby found herself being bundled into the passenger's seat of Gibbs' car after a brief stop at her own car to get her emergency overnight bag from the trunk. She put up a token objection, adding it to the list of things that were wrong about her day, which included being in the wrong place at the wrong time and being unable to go back to the restaurant and pick up her cell phone and purse until the Metro cops cleared the scene, but lapsed into silence halfway to his house when Gibbs had seemingly ignored her.
Glancing at her, he realised the reason for her silence wasn't because she thought he wasn't listening but because she'd fallen asleep and he took the opportunity to pinch her thigh when he had to stop at a set of traffic lights, throwing her an innocent grin when she yelped and rubbed the sore area, glaring at him in shock.
"Ducky said not to let you fall asleep," he said with a little boy grin that had her rolling her eyes.
"Not funny, Gibbs," she complained, a whining note in her voice. "You're picking on the walking wounding."
"You're sitting," Gibbs pointed out, "not walking."
Abby responded by sticking her tongue out childishly. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared out of the front window for the remainder of the journey to his place.
Gibbs bit back another grin, wondering at the almost giddy feeling he felt. It was a combination of relief, he knew, and nerves as a result of the decision he'd made while sitting in the bull pen, waiting for Ducky to clear her to leave.
He couldn't shake the thought that she could have been hurt far worse, maybe even killed. She'd been injured before as a result of her job and, while he didn't like it, he couldn't object; although Abby's position kept her safer than his agents, who were vulnerable every time they stepped out into the field, she knew the risks of her job, knew that by helping them catch the bad guys, she was drawing their attention to herself by proving their guilt with the evidence she processed.
This time was different, though. She'd been out to lunch - a simple, routine thing that should have been entirely without danger. He'd heard her reassurances, and Ducky's, that she hadn't been hurt in the crossfire but it did little to ease the knot in his gut, the one that told him she could've been.
Short of wrapping her up in cotton wool and refusing to let her out of his sight, there was no way he could protect her from everything that might hurt her.
It was that thought that had led him to make the decision he'd made while sitting at his desk, the reminder that life was fleeting and far too precious to waste even a second of it. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, smiling in spite of the scowl still present on her features and wondered how he'd tell her.
He knew Abby had feelings for him; he'd known it almost as long as she had. He'd watched the interest in her eyes change into something more, felt the attraction between them increase instead of fade as the years went on, fuelled by something far more enduring than mere lust. While he'd let her get closer to him than anyone else, he'd always maintained a little distance between them, at first using his rules and his past to keep his feelings for her at bay and then letting her misunderstanding about the nature of his feelings for her go uncorrected.
As he pulled up onto the drive, he wondered how to broach the subject. Despite having been married four times, he wasn't the type of man who talked about his feelings. It was probably why, he thought ruefully, three of them had ended in divorce. With Shannon, she'd had a sort of sixth sense, knowing what he wanted to say before he needed to struggle to put it into words.
Like Abby, Gibbs thought, glancing at her as he opened the driver's door of the car and stepped out. Out of everyone currently in his life, including Ducky and even his father, Abby seemed to have sharper instincts where he was concerned, knowing when he needed space, knowing when he needed her to distract him with inane babble he'd pretend he wasn't listening to but really depended on to keep him grounded during the harder cases.
She waited in the car for him to grab her overnight bag from the trunk before opening the passenger door for her, her fingers twitching as though she wanted to do it herself but waiting anyway because she knew the need to be chivalrous was deeply ingrained in him thanks to his upbringing.
Abby glanced at him, a little startled, when he let his hand move from the small of her back to curl around her hip instead, drawing her against him as he led her towards the front door of his house. Gibbs reluctantly dropped his hand to unlock the front door, ushering her inside before closing it - and locking it - behind them.
"I thought you'd given up on locking the door," Abby noted, arching an eyebrow as she started to shrug out of her coat.
"When it's just me, sure." He moved to help her with her coat, easing her injured wrist out of the sleeve with a gentleness that made her bit her bottom lip. He held her gaze for a moment, willing her to realise something had changed. "You want something to eat first or the hot bath Ducky recommended..?"
"A bath would be good." She reached a tentative hand up to touch the gauze on her forehead before running her fingers through her hair with a grimace. "Pretty sure I have dried blood in my hair." She stilled when he moved closer instead of stepping away as she'd suspected, her breath catching noticeably when he lifted his own hand to touch the white gauze before letting his fingertips trail along the side of her face in a gentle caress. "Gibbs..."
"Could've lost you today, Abby." He held her gaze, resisting the urge to look away.
She blushed but didn't look away. "I tripped over a chair," she pointed out, rolling her eyes at herself. "It was hardly life or death..."
"It could've been." He touched her cheek tenderly. "If the guys robbing the place had been serious about it..." His jaw tensed at the thought and he found himself being thankful that the perpetrators had been acting on a grudge against the owners and weren't seriously interested in harming the patrons dining in the restaurant at the time. "It could've been worse."
Proving him right in his belief that she, like Shannon before her, could read his moods, Abby tilted her face into his touch, his palm warm against her cool skin. Her smile was soft, her eyes reassuring. "I'm still here."
He nodded slowly in response and lifted his other hand so he could frame her face in his palms. Slowly, giving her plenty of time to move away or stop him if she wanted, Gibbs closed the gap between them, pressing his mouth against hers. The kiss was gentle, almost uncertain at first, but when she closed her eyes and parted her lips, Gibbs gave into his need to deepen it, trying to convey everything he couldn't bring himself to say.
As the kiss came to a natural end, Gibbs pulled away just enough to look at her, dropping his hands to his side as he studied her reaction. From the shy smile to the emotion sparkling in the depths of her green eyes, he knew she'd understood part if not all of what he wanted to say.
"Go run your bath," he told her, his voice a little huskier than normal. "I'll bring up some ice for your wrist."
"Will you help me wash my back?" Her expression was as innocent as the glint in her eye was wicked. "I don't know if I'll be able to reach..."
He shook his head at her and swatted her behind as she started towards the stairs. "Maybe if you're good."
"Aw, Gibbs. Where's the fun in that?" Abby pouted at him over her shoulder, drawing a chuckle from him that surprised them both.
He watched as a delighted smile light up her face, chasing away the shadows her ordeal had caused, before she continued up the stairs, as eager to get into a bath of warm water as she was for what would inevitably follow, he was sure.
Smiling to himself, Gibbs made his way to the kitchen to get the ice, his steps hurried, eager to join her upstairs.
The knot that had formed in his gut when he'd walked into an empty lab had finally eased and he found himself not only looking forward to the rest of the evening but everything else that would follow.
****
End.
Author: Jo. R (driftingatdusk)
Rating: FR-13 at most
Pairing: Abby/Gibbs
Spoilers: Slight for 'Borderland'
Summary: An incident makes Gibbs re-evaluate the parameters of his relationship with Abby.
Written as a thank you for teenagewitch in the 2011 gaficathon for stepping in at the last minute. Thank you, Jennie!
****
It wasn't often the lab was silent. If there wasn't the usual booming of music from the speakers just inside the glass doors of Abby's office, he would expect to be able to hear the sound of her voice as she animatedly explained her findings to a fellow agent or just chatted in general to one of her many visitors to the lab.
The silence disturbed him, and very few things disturbed Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
He set the bright coloured plastic cup of Caf-Pow! down on the work bench beside the computer, the stool in front of the desk conspicuously empty. His blue eyes narrowed as he looked through the glass doors to the office, his sense of concern growing when he sat that that desk, too, was vacant.
Gibbs glanced at his watch, frowning at the time. It was mid-afternoon, well after lunch. He knew she'd gone out with Ducky to grab something to eat, remembered the way she'd pouted and looked at him from beneath her long eyelashes as she'd tried to coax him into joining them.
Thinking back, he couldn't remember seeing the two of them return. They would've had to pass through the squad room on their way back to their respective areas in the building and he hadn't left his desk all afternoon, choosing instead to have a quick lunch at his desk.
He reached for his cell phone as he wandered into the office, wondering if maybe she'd managed to sneak by him and was in the ballistics room or taking a nap on the floor behind her desk. He dialled Abby's cell phone first, listening to it ring as he walked into the ballistics room, did a quick sweep of it with his eyes before turning on his heel and walking back into the main area of the lab.
Her phone continued to ring, until her voice mail message kicked in. Her voice, cheery and familiar, made him tighten his hand on the phone he held to his ear as he retraced his steps towards the elevator.
"Hi, this is Abby. Leave a message and I'll get back to you unless I don't like you! Just kidding!"
He smiled in spite of himself at the sound of her voice but hung up without leaving a message. He punched in the lower level and waited impatiently for the elevator to reach the morgue, barely waiting for the doors to open fully before making his way to Doctor Ducky Mallard's domain.
The room wasn't empty when he walked in but, instead of the Medical Examiner and the Forensic Specialist he'd been expecting, Gibbs was met by Ducky's assistant, Jimmy Palmer.
"Hey, Agent Gibbs." Jimmy's smile was nervous, as it always was around the Special Agent. "What brings you down here? Not... Not that it's nice to see you, of course. It's always nice to see you... Well, usually that means someone's been killed and that's not nice but..."
"Palmer." Gibbs silenced him mid-flow, arching an eyebrow impatiently. Incoherent babble from Abby was one thing; the ME assistant's nervous ramblings was another and something he had little patience for. "Is Ducky around?"
"No, Sir." Jimmy frowned at him. "He hasn't come back from lunch. I thought you and Abby were going with him?"
Gibbs' frown deepened. "Abby went. He hasn't called to explain why he's not back yet?"
"No. No, he hasn't called." Jimmy blinked at him through his dark rimmed glasses. "You don't think anything's happened, do you? It's not like Doctor Mallard to be late back from lunch. Or Abby."
Gibbs wasn't listening. His cell phone was back in his hand as he turned to walk out of the lab, dialling Ducky's cell phone number with one hand as he punched the button to call the elevator back with the other. When Ducky's phone rang out just like Abby's had, the concern he felt blossomed into fully fledged concern.
"Duck. Where are you?" was the message he left on the cell phone, snapping it shut with a little more force than necessary as he paced the small space of the metal box, waiting impatiently for it to reach the bullpen. As soon as the doors opened, he strode out towards his agents desks, doing his best to keep his feelings from showing on his face.
"McGee," he called out brusquely, making a beeline for the younger agent's desk.
He pretended not to notice Tony DiNozzo hurriedly lowering his feet from the desk where they'd been propped up while he simultaneously tried to hide a magazine in the top drawer of his desk just as he pretended not to notice McGee click to close whatever it was he was looking at on his computer screen. Out of his three agents, Ziva David was the only one who continued what she was doing, an almost smug smile on her face as she continued typing away at the report she was writing.
"Yes, Boss?" McGee looked at him with an expression that was a combination of caught-in-headlights-surprise and caught-with-hand-in-the-cookie-jar-guilt.
"Track Abby's cell."
The terse order caught the attention of the other members of the team in an instant. As McGee got to work, his fingers flying over the keyboard in a way Gibbs didn't envy but could never match, Tony and Ziva got to their feet to join their boss beside his desk.
"Is something wrong with Abby?" Ziva asked quietly, her eyes dark with concern when Gibbs glanced up at her.
"Don't know yet."
"She went to lunch with Ducky, didn't she?" Tony glanced down at his watch, his own eyes widening as he realised the time. "Two and a half hours ago?"
Gibbs nodded shortly. "Neither of them are back yet." He redialled Abby's number and held his phone to his ear. "DiNozzo..."
"I'll keep calling Ducky's phone," Tony finished for him, heading back to his own desk. It didn't need to be said that his boss would be trying the forensic specialist.
McGee frowned at the screen, lifting his gaze to look at Gibbs. "Both Abby and Ducky's cell phones are stationary, at an address downtown. Looks like they're still at lunch."
Gibbs looked to Tony, his stomach churning when his agent shook his head in the negative to confirm Ducky's phone was still unanswered. Director Leon Vance started down the stairs from MTAC, his expression solemn. Ziva stood straighter, drawing her teammates attention to the arrival of their Director.
"Agent Gibbs." Director Vance addressed the senior agent of the team quietly. "If I could have a moment..."
"No." Gibbs' eyes narrowed as he stared at the Director, his gut clenching uncomfortably. "What's going on, Leon?"
Director Vance didn't squirm under the weight of the infamous Gibbs glare but the agents around him did on his behalf. "I just got off the phone with Metro. There was an incident at a restaurant downtown, an attempted robbery during lunch hour. Doctor Mallard and Ms. Sciuto were dining at the time..." The Director held up a hand when McGee and Tony shot up from their seats and Ziva took a half-step towards him. "I've been assured they're fine. The situation is under control and the diners have been released. They're en route to the Navy Yard as we speak."
Gibbs watched his three agents deflate and wished he could share in their obvious relief. His gut wouldn't let him, however, and he stared hard at Vance, wondering what the Director wasn't telling them. "What else?" He prompted, when Vance remained silent.
At the sound of his voice, the three agents grew more alert. They watched with interest they made only a cursory attempt at hiding as the two men faced off.
"Ms. Sciuto was apparently injured in the initial panic when the other diners realised what was happening," Vance said after a long pause. He held Gibbs' gaze evenly. "I heard her in the background insisting she was fine so I wouldn't worry too much."
"Injured how?"
"I'm unsure how it happened or the extent of her injuries." Director Vance waited a beat. "They'll be here soon, Gibbs. I just thought I'd keep you informed."
Gibbs nodded curtly and moved to sit at his own desk. It escaped no one's notice that his gaze drifted over to the bank of elevators every time the bell rang to announce its arrival but he didn't care; the sooner Abby and Ducky were back, the sooner he could reassure himself that two of the people he cared about most were okay.
****
"I'm fine, Ducky." Abby Sciuto folded her arms over her chest, mindful of the sprained wrist that had already swollen to twice its usual size. She glared at the ME as he ignored her and continued to dab at the still bleeding wound on her forehead with a handkerchief.
"It seems, my dear, that while you make an able nurse when someone else is injured, you're a very poor patient yourself." Ducky arched an eyebrow at her, an almost amused glint in his blue eyes. "Sounds like someone else we both know, doesn't it?"
Abby rolled her eyes at him, unable to see the amusement in the situation. She was, she would admit, a little embarrassed that she'd been hurt in the afternoon's events. It wasn't as if she'd been doing something heroic or even that the two guys who'd tried robbing the restaurant had hurt her themselves. She'd tripped over a chair that had been pushed back by a fellow diner, who had been attempting to flee the scene himself. He'd apologised profusely when she'd fallen, evidently more horrified at having caused her injuries at the chaos that was going on around them.
It wouldn't have been so bad, Abby thought, if she hadn't knocked her head on the table she'd been standing beside, hurting her wrist when she'd tried to break her fall. Falling over ungracefully in the midst of so much panic would have been acceptable if only she hadn't hurt herself. By hurting herself, she'd caused a scene and found she was at the centre of almost as much attention at the two men trying to get illegal compensation from the restaurant owners for firing one of their girlfriends.
"I'm fine." She scowled and batted his hand away. "It's just a scratch."
Ducky's amusement faded and a stern expression took its place. "It's more than a scratch, Abigail. Few scratches need stitches and that gash most certainly does. You really should have allowed them to take you to hospital."
A pink hue blossomed in her pale cheeks and she took the handkerchief from him, obediently pressing it against her head. "I didn't want to cause a fuss."
The Medical Examiner patted her hand companionably, his expression sympathetic though the glimmer of amusement returned to his face. "You might wish you did when Jethro catches sight of you. He won't be too happy you went again medical advice..."
Abby snorted indelicately and rolled her eyes. "Like he's never gone against what you've told him."
"Do what I say, not what I do." Ducky arched an eyebrow. "It's almost an unwritten rule."
Knowing he was right, Abby squared her shoulders as the elevator reached the third floor. She braced herself for the inevitable as the metal doors parted, taking a deep breath and forcing a bright smile on her face as she stepped out with Ducky on her heels.
****
The bloody handkerchief pressed to her forehead was the first thing he noticed, the swollen wrist in which she used was the second. Tearing his gaze from Abby's sheepish smile, Gibbs looked to Ducky, frowning when the ME shrugged his shoulders helplessly.
"It's nothing I can't take care of," Ducky assured the Special Agent almost cheerfully. "There'll be ice in the morgue and I'm sure with a few stitches, she'll be as good as new..."
Gibbs wasn't listening. He stood as Abby walked passed his desk, ushered forward by Ducky, and moved to stand in their way. Ignoring the almost knowing smirk on his old friend's face, Gibbs lifted his hand to Abby's face, gently moving the handkerchief so he could study her injury for himself. "It's deep. Should've gone to hospital, Abs."
"Ducky can take care of it." She shrugged a shoulder but made no attempt at breaking free. "It's probably not as bad as it looks."
"Take it you haven't seen it." He reluctantly let his hand drop away from her face and took a step back, glancing at Ducky. "You sure you can take care of it here?"
"I'm positive, Jethro. Give me thirty minutes and she'll be ready for you to take home." Ducky steered Abby towards the far bank of elevators, ignoring her startled look. "You can't go home alone, my dear. You might have a concussion."
With Abby's protests fading as she was led away, Gibbs sat down at his desk, resisting the urge to watch her go, knowing his agents would be studying him for his reaction. He glanced up after a few minutes, schooling his features into a nonchalant expression as he arched an eyebrow.
"Don't you all have reports to finish?"
As one, the three agents quickly returned their attention to their computers, each tapping at their keyboards once more.
****
One ice pack and seven stitches later, Abby found herself being bundled into the passenger's seat of Gibbs' car after a brief stop at her own car to get her emergency overnight bag from the trunk. She put up a token objection, adding it to the list of things that were wrong about her day, which included being in the wrong place at the wrong time and being unable to go back to the restaurant and pick up her cell phone and purse until the Metro cops cleared the scene, but lapsed into silence halfway to his house when Gibbs had seemingly ignored her.
Glancing at her, he realised the reason for her silence wasn't because she thought he wasn't listening but because she'd fallen asleep and he took the opportunity to pinch her thigh when he had to stop at a set of traffic lights, throwing her an innocent grin when she yelped and rubbed the sore area, glaring at him in shock.
"Ducky said not to let you fall asleep," he said with a little boy grin that had her rolling her eyes.
"Not funny, Gibbs," she complained, a whining note in her voice. "You're picking on the walking wounding."
"You're sitting," Gibbs pointed out, "not walking."
Abby responded by sticking her tongue out childishly. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared out of the front window for the remainder of the journey to his place.
Gibbs bit back another grin, wondering at the almost giddy feeling he felt. It was a combination of relief, he knew, and nerves as a result of the decision he'd made while sitting in the bull pen, waiting for Ducky to clear her to leave.
He couldn't shake the thought that she could have been hurt far worse, maybe even killed. She'd been injured before as a result of her job and, while he didn't like it, he couldn't object; although Abby's position kept her safer than his agents, who were vulnerable every time they stepped out into the field, she knew the risks of her job, knew that by helping them catch the bad guys, she was drawing their attention to herself by proving their guilt with the evidence she processed.
This time was different, though. She'd been out to lunch - a simple, routine thing that should have been entirely without danger. He'd heard her reassurances, and Ducky's, that she hadn't been hurt in the crossfire but it did little to ease the knot in his gut, the one that told him she could've been.
Short of wrapping her up in cotton wool and refusing to let her out of his sight, there was no way he could protect her from everything that might hurt her.
It was that thought that had led him to make the decision he'd made while sitting at his desk, the reminder that life was fleeting and far too precious to waste even a second of it. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, smiling in spite of the scowl still present on her features and wondered how he'd tell her.
He knew Abby had feelings for him; he'd known it almost as long as she had. He'd watched the interest in her eyes change into something more, felt the attraction between them increase instead of fade as the years went on, fuelled by something far more enduring than mere lust. While he'd let her get closer to him than anyone else, he'd always maintained a little distance between them, at first using his rules and his past to keep his feelings for her at bay and then letting her misunderstanding about the nature of his feelings for her go uncorrected.
As he pulled up onto the drive, he wondered how to broach the subject. Despite having been married four times, he wasn't the type of man who talked about his feelings. It was probably why, he thought ruefully, three of them had ended in divorce. With Shannon, she'd had a sort of sixth sense, knowing what he wanted to say before he needed to struggle to put it into words.
Like Abby, Gibbs thought, glancing at her as he opened the driver's door of the car and stepped out. Out of everyone currently in his life, including Ducky and even his father, Abby seemed to have sharper instincts where he was concerned, knowing when he needed space, knowing when he needed her to distract him with inane babble he'd pretend he wasn't listening to but really depended on to keep him grounded during the harder cases.
She waited in the car for him to grab her overnight bag from the trunk before opening the passenger door for her, her fingers twitching as though she wanted to do it herself but waiting anyway because she knew the need to be chivalrous was deeply ingrained in him thanks to his upbringing.
Abby glanced at him, a little startled, when he let his hand move from the small of her back to curl around her hip instead, drawing her against him as he led her towards the front door of his house. Gibbs reluctantly dropped his hand to unlock the front door, ushering her inside before closing it - and locking it - behind them.
"I thought you'd given up on locking the door," Abby noted, arching an eyebrow as she started to shrug out of her coat.
"When it's just me, sure." He moved to help her with her coat, easing her injured wrist out of the sleeve with a gentleness that made her bit her bottom lip. He held her gaze for a moment, willing her to realise something had changed. "You want something to eat first or the hot bath Ducky recommended..?"
"A bath would be good." She reached a tentative hand up to touch the gauze on her forehead before running her fingers through her hair with a grimace. "Pretty sure I have dried blood in my hair." She stilled when he moved closer instead of stepping away as she'd suspected, her breath catching noticeably when he lifted his own hand to touch the white gauze before letting his fingertips trail along the side of her face in a gentle caress. "Gibbs..."
"Could've lost you today, Abby." He held her gaze, resisting the urge to look away.
She blushed but didn't look away. "I tripped over a chair," she pointed out, rolling her eyes at herself. "It was hardly life or death..."
"It could've been." He touched her cheek tenderly. "If the guys robbing the place had been serious about it..." His jaw tensed at the thought and he found himself being thankful that the perpetrators had been acting on a grudge against the owners and weren't seriously interested in harming the patrons dining in the restaurant at the time. "It could've been worse."
Proving him right in his belief that she, like Shannon before her, could read his moods, Abby tilted her face into his touch, his palm warm against her cool skin. Her smile was soft, her eyes reassuring. "I'm still here."
He nodded slowly in response and lifted his other hand so he could frame her face in his palms. Slowly, giving her plenty of time to move away or stop him if she wanted, Gibbs closed the gap between them, pressing his mouth against hers. The kiss was gentle, almost uncertain at first, but when she closed her eyes and parted her lips, Gibbs gave into his need to deepen it, trying to convey everything he couldn't bring himself to say.
As the kiss came to a natural end, Gibbs pulled away just enough to look at her, dropping his hands to his side as he studied her reaction. From the shy smile to the emotion sparkling in the depths of her green eyes, he knew she'd understood part if not all of what he wanted to say.
"Go run your bath," he told her, his voice a little huskier than normal. "I'll bring up some ice for your wrist."
"Will you help me wash my back?" Her expression was as innocent as the glint in her eye was wicked. "I don't know if I'll be able to reach..."
He shook his head at her and swatted her behind as she started towards the stairs. "Maybe if you're good."
"Aw, Gibbs. Where's the fun in that?" Abby pouted at him over her shoulder, drawing a chuckle from him that surprised them both.
He watched as a delighted smile light up her face, chasing away the shadows her ordeal had caused, before she continued up the stairs, as eager to get into a bath of warm water as she was for what would inevitably follow, he was sure.
Smiling to himself, Gibbs made his way to the kitchen to get the ice, his steps hurried, eager to join her upstairs.
The knot that had formed in his gut when he'd walked into an empty lab had finally eased and he found himself not only looking forward to the rest of the evening but everything else that would follow.
****
End.