(no subject)
Just about the most ridiculous and questionable thing I've written so far.
The lab is a very busy place. People are always coming to see me to say hello or get answers to seemingly impossible questions, and quickly at that. I guess you could say I’m well-liked. I suppose when you have Gibbs as a measure of comparison, that’s not really saying much. I love him though, grumpy or not. Sometimes, when the rest of the team isn’t around, he takes care of me if I’ve hurt myself or fallen off the wheelie chairs. I guess you could say that I’m somewhat eccentric and definitely energetic, but the guys here seem to have taken to me, in their own individual ways.
Tony liked me, and I liked him, from the minute he stepped into my lab. I was just sitting there, looking at one of my many computers with a lovely new dog collar on when he complimented me on it. Anybody who praises my accessories is already hauling in brownie points by the truckload. Doesn’t mean I didn’t have to play hard to get, mind you.
Kate…Kate didn’t know what to make of me when she first met me. She would stare at me when she thought I wasn’t looking, but there was only curiosity in her eyes, so I let her stare and pretended not to notice. In time we grew close. Sometimes, when things would get tough and we couldn’t get the answers at all, let alone quick enough for Gibbs impossible time demands, she’d give me a quick hug and a squeeze. I miss Kate so much sometimes. I’ll never forget her, or Ari. When that bullet flew through my window and glass shattered over my head, I was so certain that there was nowhere I could escape to, nowhere I would be safe. Still, I knew Gibbs would be there, working furiously to fix everything.
With Ari came Ziva, who was in no way welcome when I first met her. I didn’t like her, and she didn’t like me, which worked out fine. She kept looking at me as if I was in the wrong place. As if I belonged somewhere else and not a federal office. As if I was too comical to be involved in such serious work. Which was ok, because I just thought she was a bitch. After a while we worked things out though. She was tough, and I couldn’t help but admire that. She still has the tiniest hint of goofiness in her, so I’ve sort of latched onto that.
McGee. Ah yes, McGee. Now McGee and I have an interesting relationship. Sometimes we get along brilliantly and other times he annoys me. He thinks he knows more than I do, which is so not true. Sometimes he’s loyal, sometimes he has a bit of a wandering eye. There is a lot of competition in this lab, like the brown haired doll who I sometimes find at my desk or my favourite computer. Still, I did encourage him to look around. I’m not one to make commitments to anybody but myself. Gibbs too, for that matter. He’s sweet though. Sometimes he’ll pat me on the head too.
Ducky! Oh, I love Ducky! Ducky never gets impatient with me, even when I’m in the way or sitting in the wrong seat. Sometimes I pop up out of nowhere and accidentally scare him. He appreciates what I can do. He’s always willing to give me a hug too. He bought me a black teddy bear for my birthday which I love to death. It’s always great to have more friends in the lab.
Yup. All in all I think I’m a well cared for hippopotamus.
Also, this is the first part of an NCIS/ALIAS crossover. I'm not sure if/how quickly I'll be writing it, but I'm bored so I thought I'd pop it up and see what people think. I can't really write those long, interesting, amazing plot-filled stories. I'm a one-shotter who writes fluff/gen through description. Still, maybe we'll see, eh? At the moment I'm working on part two of "Family of Squirrels."
Abby scanned her inbox out of the corner of her eye. Bert’s stitched-on whiskers had started to fall off, so she was calling upon old knowledge to carefully sew them back on. Same thread and everything. She didn’t regret for a minute crawling around on the lab floor looking for the white cotton. It was almost part of her job description. Finding things, not patching up stuffed hippos. Bert was well cared for, there was no denying it.
The oft said phrase “bills, bills, bills” floated through her head before quickly turning to an “ew” of disgust upon reaching the inevitable and infamous offerings to enlarge pieces of anatomy that she didn’t even possess. As she threaded a strand through the eye of the needle, a name caught her attention. Third time this week too. Jumping up from her chair, she quickly reached for the mouse to delete the email with the kind of anxiety that makes you believe that even the empty air is watching you. In her haste though, she forgot about the needle in her grasp and before she knew what had happened, the thin piece of metal had buried itself into the pad of her thumb. At least a half a centimeter into the flesh. The sudden pain made her cry out and even forget Bert, who had been thrown unceremoniously from her lap and onto the floor when she’d stood up.
“Abby?!” sounded from just outside the elevator, followed by urgent footsteps.
Using her left hand, with no time to remove the pin from her right, she quickly aligned the mouse, selected and clicked. A pain had powered up electrically inside her chest, switched on by the sudden and unwanted panic.
The screen went white, then reloaded, sans email, as Gibbs came up behind her.
“You alright?”
She turned to him, nodding, glancing an Bert on the floor but not taking him in. In the back of her mind, the only part that was actually receiving the signals coming from her senses, she saw Gibbs deposit his coffee and her Caf-Pow! on her desk, before stooping to pick up the hippo.
“Abby, you alright?” he questioned again, this time more insistently as the toy was placed on a stack of paper.
She stared at him, and then, much like when one opens a car door at the beach on a windy, choppy day, noise came roaring into her ears. People walking past her window, machines beeping, lab-techs chatting down the hall, cars driving around the yard. Gibbs taking to her.
She shook herself. “Oh! Gibbs, hey. Yeah, I um, I just pricked myself with the pin. Doing some hippo maintenance.”
She held up her hand to show him the tiny wound, only to remember, rather alarmingly and quite embarrassingly that the pin was still stuck in her thumb. Her lips formed an O shape.
“Ah. Well…a little pain never hurt anybody, right?”
“Abby! It’s still in your finger. Pull it out for damned sake.”
“Please, it’s not like you’ve never seen worse.” She looked down at her thumb, feigning observation to hide her sheepishness. “Sorry.”
He grabbed her wrist, dragging her over to the sunlight by the window. Arms firmly on her shoulders, he positioned her directly underneath the beams.
“This is going to hurt.” With no further preamble or a wait for a reply, he gripped the end of the needle and pulled. It slid out of her skin smoothly.
“Fuck” she muttered, not wanting to make a scene.
“Well, you’re not bleeding. Too much.”
“You really know how to take care of a girl, Gibbs.”
Quite randomly and certainly suddenly, he pushed her up against the glass-paneled fridge that sat in-between her two small arch-windows. One hand on her cheek, fingers curled around behind her ear, the other hand on her waist, he kissed her. Open mouthed on her closed, and only once, but hungrily. As he pulled away, he brought her bottom lip with him, nipped in his teeth.
“Well…that was a bit better.”
Breaking all contact, he grinned, squeezed her thumb in the way that children do to stop the pain, but in a much more possessive way, and turned to leave. Only to spot DiNozzo crouched down by the window outside, his mouth open wide enough for an entire tectonic plate to slip into it the next time an earthquake hit. Tony, upon being noticed, promptly fell sideways, before quickly regaining his footing and giving a little wave.
Met with a stony glare from Gibbs and a laugh from Abby, he walked on hastily, uncharacteristically red-faced.
“You shouldn’t encourage him,” Gibbs remonstrated.
“Oh please. You know Tony and his imagination. Better to let him see a bit than dream a bit.”
Gibbs opened his mouth to protest, but upon fully grasping what she said, frowned. “I’d rather if he didn’t ‘anything’ a bit.”
“You don’t think it’s hot?” Abby sounded surprised.
Gibbs stared at her incredulously. “No. Why the hell would I think that?”
“So, you don’t think it’s hot, thinking about kissing me?”
Again, his mouth was opened, then closed again to reassess her words and his answer. Abby did that to him a lot. “I think it’s...hot, he? can’t. I don’t believe I’m having this conversation.” He turned to leave again. “See me walking away? This is me, leaving.”
“Sure thing Gibbs” she said with a smile. A smile that, was, quite surprisingly, sent back to her.
The elevator dinged as Gibbs stepped into it.
Once she heard the doors slide shut, she approached the computer again, fearfully. Hesitantly.
She was really sick of getting emails from Marshall Flinkman, nice man though he may be.
I was looking at the MSN News today thing, and an article about Anjelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. I actually clicked on the link quite by accident. Now, ok, I'm a fangirl. I'm obsessive, but I'm obsessive about my shows. Even the actors, but not their personal lives. I don't read gossip magazines, save pictures of actors taken in the street or at coffee shops, and I certainly wouldn't go up to someone if they were with their family or a group. Perhaps if they were by themselves walking down the street. I wouldn't ask for an autograph though. So, Anjelina and Brad are in India, and they can't even go on a rickshaw drive. They had to turn back after twenty minutes, because the media and people were too crazy and intrusive. I just feel sorry for them, I suppose. I mean, there's a price of fame and then there's just indecency.