A/N: I wanted to know what would happen if the scene had continued instead of McGee leaving to get Abby's toothbrush.
"We're adults McGee, we can share the same bed."
McGee shot a look at her. "As long as you promise to keep your hands to yourself."
Abby's mischievous smile declared her opinion of that statement. She wandered over to his desk and started punching the keys on his typewriter.
McGee hurried over and spread a white cloth over the outdated machine. "Hands."
"Oh, I do not think that is what you meant," Abby grinned, tickling his neck.
He swatted her hand away and gave her a shove towards his bedroom. "Bedtime Abby."
She pouted. "You are no fun at all McGee."
"I'm not supposed to be fun, I'm supposed to be protection."
"Fine." She sighed and slipped under the covers of his bed, leaving the shirt she'd borrowed from him on over her pyjamas.
McGee grabbed his gun and left it lying on his bedside table, within easy reach, in case of an emergency. He gingerly got into bed, keeping to his side away from Abby.
The moment he settled onto his side and closed his eyes, preparing for sleep, he felt Abby slide closer. She molded herself to him from behind and slipped an arm around his waist, her head resting between his shoulder blades.
"Abby..." he warned.
"There's a crazy stalker guy after me McGee."
"Okay..." he wasn't sure what that had to do with how close she was. His heartrate increased. This was so not a good idea. Neither of them really lost the feelings they'd had since they had met three years ago.
"So I need a hug, that's why."
"You promised to keep your hands to yourself," McGee protested, feeling his resolve weaken.
"I did not," Abby retorted. She lifted her head and whispered in his ear, "It's just for one night."
Tim put his hand over Abby's and squeezed gently. "Okay Abbs. G'night."
Abby snuggled back up to him, a smile spreading over her face. If she had to stay with McGee because of Michael, at least she could enjoy remembering what they shared. "Good night Tim," she said, closing her eyes.
