AN: So this on based on a dream I had about Abby and McGee. I only had the dream about the first part, and I remember it ended with Abby crying in the book section of somewhere like Wal-Mart and McGee hugging her while she cried. So here we go…..

Abby was walking to the check out section. The three boys that had been giving her trouble for the past couple of months. Unfortunately, this was the only store that carried both her caf-pow's and her favorite style of music. She was already running late. Gibbs had called her about an hour ago saying that she was needed. When she had confided in Gibbs, he'd told her to avoid him. One of his instincts, he'd said.

There was a Jon Doe in the NCIS morgue and they wanted Abby to run his fingerprints. McGee would be waiting in her lab to assist her. As if she needed it. But still, she enjoyed spending time with McGee and Gibbs could see that. They acted like five year olds most of the time, slapping each other and chasseing each other around the lab, but Abby loved it. She loved McGee.

Her phone started ringing and she knew who it was before looking at the ID. "I know, Gibbs, but I had to stop for a Caf-pow. I'm sorry. Please, please, please don't be mad. I got you a coffee too. I'll be there in five minuets," Abby rushed to explain.

"Five minuets, Abs," Gibbs said before hanging up.

Abby continued to the check out area. As luck would have it, the only register that was open was the one with her most consistent tormenter. She sighed before stepping in line.

He was tall and lean with blond hair and green eyes. Not a pleasant green like McGee's, Abby had noticed. Green like the things Ducky scent to her form the stomach of dead sailors analysis. Other than the repulsive color of his eyes, he was very pretty. Even Abby had to admit that. Too preppy, though. He could use with some black hair dye and maybe a lip ring or two. And definitely a trip to Hot Topic. He wasn't like her friends. He couldn't pull off the polished professional look. Instead, he looked like a wannabe.

"A lab coat?" he asked. His voice was mocking. She hated it.

"Yeah. I'm a forensic scientist for NCIS. Gotta problem with it?" she asked in a hard tone. He looked up from scanning Gibbs's coffee and nearly knocked over her Caf-pow. "Hey! Would you watch what your doing?!"

"NCIS? Do you know Timothy McGee?" he asked. There was a scary look in his eyes. This guy hated McGee. It was all too obvious on his face.

"He's one of my best friends," Abby stated boldly, sticking her chin out proudly, daring this pretty boy to say a single bad word about Timmy. She would kill him and not leave a single piece of forensic evidence to hint at who did it.

He just shock his head and went back to scanning her things. He was starting to look a little nervous. Abby was proud that she could scare him, though she wasn't really that scary of a person.

"Have a good day," he said, still not looking at her as she handed him her money. She didn't say anything back. She just walked out the door with a feeling of accomplishment. She'd have to thank McGee for whatever it was he'd done to that guy latter.

She was almost to her car when she realized she was being followed. It was pretty boy and his two cohorts, overly-cocky-son-of-a-bitch-boy and boy-with-greasy-hair-bad-skin-and-B.O. It wasn't anything she couldn't handle, she told herself. She'd dealt with worse. She'd dealt with cereal killers. What were three boy's who probably weren't smart enough to have gotten in to collage to her? Besides, she might just be being parinod. They could have just gotten off of work and were going to their car's.

"Hey, gothic NCIS girl!" overly-cocky-son-of-a-bitch-boy called. Grate. This was going to make her even latter. Gibbs was going to be majorly pissed. Even more so if she didn't get there before his coffee got cold. She was lucky she was the only one, other than Ducky, that didn't get the head smack. Otherwise, she'd have a head ache for day's.

"What now?" Abby asked. "If you're going to ask me how many dead sailors I've been with, the answer is none. That's strictly Polymer's area."

They were within five feet of her now, but she refused to back up. She would not give into them.

"No it's not that…" pretty boy said. He still looked kind of nervous. At least she had that on her side.

"We've got something for you," boy-with-greasy-hair-bad-skin-and-B.O told her, smirking maliciously. He pulled something from his pocket. Abby froze, as most people do when a gun was pointed at them. Was this how it was going to end? Something as mundane as being shot in a parking lot? She had hoped for something more creative. Decapitation. Drowning by a deranged ex-captain.

"If you try to run, we'll shoot you," he told her. Abby didn't doubt him. He looked like he wanted to shot her. Her hand twitched as she considered reaching for her phone. "I'll shot you if you do that, too," boy-with-greasy-hair-bad-skin-and-B.O said, guessing her intentions.

Why, oh why had she had to stop for a Caf-pow? Gibbs would have brought her one when she got a hit on the dead sailor; he always did. Damn her lack of patience.

"Get in the car," overly-cocky-son-of-a-bitch-boy said, opening the backseat of the car that was parked next to hers. "Now."

"Where the hell is Abby?" Gibbs demanded, storming into the lab. McGee had been wondering the same thing. She should have been here nearly a half an hour ago.

"She must be caught in traffic, boss," McGee said, automatically defending her. Gibbs smacked the back of his head.

"She was five minuets away when I called her, McGee. Why would she be stuck in traffic for another half hour?"

"Um…"

"Call her," Gibbs ordered. He looked worried. "Put it on speaker."

"On it boss," McGee said. He was already pulling his phone out. Abby was his second speed dial; his first being his sister Sarah. He liked to check up on her ever once in a while. Just to make sure she wasn't running into any trouble as she so often did.

The phone rang five times before Abby's voice said, "I'm dead to the world. Leave a message and I'll contact you from the other side." Though her words were dark enough, dark enough to send a chill down McGee's spine, her voice was as light and bubbly as it always was.

What would I do if something really happened to her? McGee wondered. They had dated for about a year. It had been the best year of his life. She had broken it off, but he still loved her. He still cared for her more than anyone else.

"Are you going to hang it up probie, or just keep staring at it?" Gibbs asked. McGee hadn't even realized that he'd been staring off into space, as he so often did when he thought about her.

"Uh, sorry, boss," McGee said, flipping the phone closed.

"Get DiNozzo and Ziva. Be at the van in less than three minuets," Gibbs ordered. He was worried. He had seen him this upset only a few times before. One of them being when Kate died. What was wrong?

"Gibbs?" McGee asked. Gibbs stopped where he was, just before the lab doors, but he didn't turn around.

"I think she's in trouble, McGee. Gut feeling," he said, then walked out. Icy fear gripped McGee, crushing in his lungs and heart. Something was wrong with Abby? No. She'd already been through so much. How many times has she nearly died right in front of his eyes? He'd lost count.

Tim jumped up, not wanting to take the time to stand still in the elevator, and sprinted up the stairs taking them two at a time.

Tony and Ziva were at their desks. Tony was trying to throw small balls of paper down Ziva's shirt while she typed on her computer. "Guy's, we've got to go," McGee said, not pausing to pick up his jacket, though it was only about twenty degree's out.

"Why? Did you and Abby find out something about our Jon Doe?" Ziva asked.

"Abby hasn't shown up yet. Gibbs thinks she's in trouble."

There was a moment of shocked silence before Tony and Ziva jumped up to follow McGee. "What kind of trouble? Like Will Smith in Men In Black trouble that everyone knows will just be something we all look back at someday and laugh at, or J-lo in Enough where some cynical bastard is out to kill her trouble?" Tony asked.

"I'm not completely sure, but from the way Gibbs was acting I'd say it's closer to the J-Lo scenario." McGee replied.

Gibbs was just screeching up to the doors of the NCIS building when the three agents emerged. They were speeding down the road before any of them had a chance to put their seatbelts on. None of them complained about his driving, not when they knew that Abby could be in trouble.

McGee spotted Abby's car the moment the parking lot came into view. The 1931 Ford Coupe hot rod wasn't hard to spot. It was parked far away from the rest of the cars. Abby had always had a hard time parking the bulky thing in small spots.

Gibbs saw the car too. He speed up, only one hand on the wheel. The other was on his door handle, ready to jump out and investigate the moment the car was going slow enough. McGee had the same idea in mind.

"I want this treated like a crime scene until we know what's going on," Gibbs ordered. "There's an evidence kit in the trunk. If you find anything, anything, that indicates something's happened to Abby, I want it bagged and tagged."

"Boss, why are you so sure something happened to her?" Tony asked from his spot in the passenger's seat.

"A few week's ago, Abby told me that three of the workers here were harassing her," was Gibbs's reply.

It all felt like a dream to McGee. There was no way that any of this was real. "Ziva, Tony, I want you two to go inside and see if anyone's seen her. See if she's still in there," Gibbs said, pulling the evidence kit out of the trunk. "McGee, you're going to help me here." He shoved the camera in McGee's direction, but he didn't take it. "Probie!" Gibbs yelled. His head sharply turned in McGee's direction.

Tim was standing stone stiff. His face pale white against his black suit. His eyes were too large. It was something that Tony had only seen once: When the team had been working the case of the Marine who had been about to jump off of the roof of a building only to be shot.

They all followed his line of sight. Blood. There was a puddle of still wet blood on the pavement next to Abby's car.