Title: So Close, So Far
Author: Jasmine
Date: December 11, 2010
Rated: PG
Universe: NCIS, Season 7
Summary: Abby needs help and she gets more than she bargained for with one Very Special Agent. Not really a Tony/Abby pairing, just circumstances that take them places they'd never otherwise go.

Chapter 1

Tony pushed Abby into the closet and slipped in after her, pulling the door closed quickly behind them.

"Shhh," he whispered, sensing she was about to say something.

She pursed her lips together, deciding her comment could wait, and flattened herself against the wall, never feeling so thankful that Tony's weight was against her. She wasn't sure if her nerves could take much more of this, and worried that her legs were going to give out, but there was nowhere to go pinned the way she was. She closed her eyes and silently thanked God that Tony had unexpectantly returned to work. 'Why'd he come back?' she wondered, and then made a mental note to ask him about it when this was over, assuming it ended well for them.

The voices grew louder and she pressed her head back, as far as the wall would allow, knowing exactly who those men were and what they were after. They were the same guys who had tried to steal the file less than a week ago, and they were back with a vengeance, heavily armed and singularly focused: get the file. Obviously, the dummy file that had been sent out of the Navy Yard earlier in the week hadn't fooled them. Not that anyone thought it would, but they were hopeful that they could at least have bought a little time, and they had; unfortunately, it hadn't been enough.

Now, based on the conversation on the other side of the door, the bad guys were asking themselves, "Why take only a file when you can take the actual forensic scientist who created it?" Thank God Tony had come by when he did or she'd have been toast.

She could feel his breath against her head and feel his heart through his shirt as she listened to the voices. They were splitting up and searching the building floor by floor. It was only a matter of time before their closet hideout was discovered, and when she heard one of them brush against the doorknob, she thought her heart was going to explode all over Tony. Based on her lightheadedness, she was positive her lungs were no longer absorbing oxygen.

"Hey," Tony whispered, "it's going to be all right."

She buried her head into his shoulder, taking his energy and hoping some of his confidence would rub off; he always had so much of both. It felt good to lean on someone. She was fine when she didn't have time to think about anything; not so fine when she did.

Tony put his ear to the door and listened. He mouthed to her, "Let's go." Silently, he turned the knob and opened it, peering up and down the hall, "It's clear."

She clung to his hand as he guided her down one hallway, around a corner and through a door. Just when they thought the coast was clear, one of the no-neck goons appeared and almost plowed them over. If the scar on his face wasn't enough to stop her in her tracks, the barrel of his gun should have done the trick. But it was the deafening gunshot blast that paralyzed her and made her blood run cold. When she finally pried her eye lids open, she saw him lying on the floor, blood gushing from the wound in his chest while a puff of smoke floated off Tony's gun. She stared at the agent, thinking his expression was different from anything she'd ever seen on him before, and it unnerved her. But there was no time to judge; he had grabbed her by the hand and pulled her through the doorway.

By the time they'd reached the exit, Tony had killed another man. The thing that unnerved her was his demeanor; he didn't seem fazed by any of it. She, on the other hand, was left feeling nauseous. There was at least one more goon following them, which would explain Tony's sense of urgency, and the bullets whizzing by their heads would explain why he roughly shoved her into his car, shouting, "Get down!" as he returned the fire.

"There's no use running, Miss Scuito!" the goon yelled from a distance. "We just want the file!"

"Like Hell you do," she heard Tony mumble. More gunfire erupted and she sunk low in the seat, clasping her hands over her ears. It became evident that the last standing goon was set on accomplishing his mission, or, at the very least, avenging his colleagues' deaths.

Through a hail of gunfire, Tony jumped in behind her, shoved the key into the ignition, popped the clutch, and sped out of the parking lot fishtailing the entire way.

After what seemed like an eternity, she peeked out the back window, careful not to poke too much of her head above the seat. The traffic seemed normal. At least nobody was following them who was driving erratically and shooting at them. Finally she turned around and noticed the darkened road. "Aren't you going to turn your lights on?" she asked.

Tony hadn't even realized he was driving without them; the street lights seemed to illuminate the road just fine. He clicked on his headlights and smiled, "Huh. Much better. You okay?"

Somehow, he didn't seem like the same guy that just minutes before had killed those men. She stared at him. The expression he now wore was kind of sweet, maybe even innocent, and his expression was one from the old Tony she knew. But the dark and dangerous one of just minutes ago would be forever etched into her memory. "Yeah," she said, still trying to catch her breath and manage her fear. Something glistened and caught her eye at that moment and she noticed a wet spot on his sleeve. Following the red stain up his arm, she eventually saw the hole. "I'm okay, but you're not… You've been shot!"

The adrenaline that had been coursing through his body had subsided, and since she pointed out the blood, he was now noticing the hot burning sensation that a metal slug makes when it rips through your skin and soft tissue. "Now that you mention it—Hey, wait a minute…" he eyed her narrowly. "How many times did Gibbs tell you NOT to work late this week?"

"I'm sorry. I just had to finish up a few last minute tests for Anderson. But what about your arm?" She tore off a piece of fabric from his shirt and tied off his bicep as best she could.

"Did you tell Gibbs?" he hissed, feeling the pressure of the tourniquet.

"No. I didn't think it was necessary."

Tony shook his head at the naivety of the scientist. She might have an unstoppable forensics' brain, but her street smarts could definitely use some brushing up. He listened while she tried to defend herself in her usual fashion, knowing that her rambling would help calm her. If his arm wasn't hurting so much, he'd try and find a radio station that played her kind of music, figuring that would also help with the nerves. But instead he hugged his now throbbing arm close to his side and thought, 'she's entitled to blather; after all, it's not every day someone tries to kill you.'

She was still talking when he turned into her apartment complex and pulled into a space.

"Come on up and I'll fix your arm," she said while peeking under the makeshift tourniquet. "I'd tell you to go to a hospital but something tells me that won't happen."

"It's just a flesh wound," he replied in a British voice.

She smiled, allowing more of the trauma to slip away, "Nice... Monty Python?"

"Yep."

"I haven't seen that movie in years."

He turned in his seat to face her. "Are you going to be okay tonight?"

"Of course I am. You don't have to babysit me."

"You're welcome to come to my place, or I can take you over to Gibbs' place?" Tony let her think about all the possible places she could go to spend the night, hoping she'd suggest something. When she didn't, he added, "You know, I could take you to Ziva's. I'm sure you two could…" Movement caught his eye and his voice trailed off. All at once, his senses were on high alert and he grabbed her neck and pushed her, "Get down!"

The rear side window shattered. He returned fire while simultaneously throwing the car in reverse and driving backwards at full speed, bouncing off cars and over curbs, and sending smoke and pieces of his car every which way.

'These guys were relentless,' he thought. They somehow managed to follow them to Abby's place, and now they were hot on his tail as he jumped the curb trying to get back onto the street. He drove towards the city, wondering where the cops were when you needed them. His only hope was that these goons were hired help and didn't know the layout of the city. Much to his relief, he was able to lose them in the throngs of pedestrians, taxis, cars and busses near the university. When he was certain that he no longer had a tail, he pulled into an alley to survey his car and his passenger. She had slid down between the seat and the dash and her hands were clamped over her ears, trying to will the nightmare away. "Abby? Abby!?"

Her eyes were saucers and her lips trembled, "What the hell was that?"

"C'mon," he said, helping her up. When she finally moved, he was surprised when she threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly. "Whoa," he soothed, returning the gesture and realizing her whole body was trembling. "It's going to be okay. They're gone."

"For now! But what if they return?"

"Well—"

"—I…I can't believe this is happening!" Another thirty seconds passed before she finally pulled away, "I mean, what is going on? One minute I'm by myself happily listening to music and running the tests for Anderson, and the next, I'm with you and we're racing through the streets of DC trying to stay alive!"

"These guys don't mess around, Abby. They're mafia, and they protect each other, even if it means sacrificing their own life, because in most cases, it DOES mean sacrificing their own life."

"What am I going to do? I can't go home… I can't go to the lab…"

Tony removed a strand of hair from her ponytail that was stuck on her long eye lashes. "Don't worry about anything. I'll make sure nothing happens to you."

"But if they found out where I live, they're bound to know where you live, and Gibbs, and Ziva, and McGee! Do you think they'll go after someone else? Maybe demand a trade? Them for me!"

He studied her a beat, maybe she had more street sense than he knew. A little lie wouldn't hurt right now, and he answered, "I doubt it. It's not the way they operate."

She slumped down in the seat and dropped her hands in her lap.

"Hey, cheer up, Abs. I'm with you and I won't let anything happen to you."

She cocked her head at him.

"Trust me."

She just stared, wanting to believe him but not fully convinced.

His lifted her chin with his finger and said, "You can trust me because I'm more afraid of what Gibbs will do to me if anything happens to you than what those mafia guys will do to me."

TBC

As usual, any constructive criticism or comments is greatly appreciated. It not only helps me want to share my stories, but it also feeds my writing muse.