No spoilers, though I think of it as taking place in current time. Pretend that Abby and McGee got back together at some point (because they will. You know they will).
Just a little something that made me smile while I was writing it. :-)
"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she murmured, running her fingers up and down his arm where it lay over her waist. It was a rainy Saturday morning, and neither of them ever wanted to get out of bed.
He kissed her shoulder and then her throat where he could feel her laugh under his lips. He loved her bedroom voice – a little slower, a little deeper. Lazy and relaxed, and just for him. "What wasn't supposed to be like what?"
She laced her fingers with his. "I always thought it would be like a bonfire. Too hot, too intense. Burning up from the inside, all the time, right from the start through forever."
"Mmph." Her hair smelled like coconuts. Last week it had smelled like strawberries. "What are you talking about, Abs?"
"Love." He stopped breathing for a second, and she snuggled closer into his arms. "I never found the bonfire. I caught fire a couple times, but it burned out. I was wrong, though. It's not like that at all," she said dreamily.
"What...is it like?" he asked cautiously. He wanted to hold her tighter, but was suddenly afraid. Generally, when he held Abby tighter, she ran away. But he couldn't resist propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at her face. "What is it like?" he asked again, quietly.
Her eyes were closed, but he saw the corner of her mouth move upward in a smile. "Like…when my hair's been in pigtails all day, and I finally pull them out and you run your fingers through my hair," she sighed. "I guess that's kind of a girl thing, but it's one of the best feelings in the world." She thought a minute, her forehead creasing. "Like a hot shower and clean sheets after we've been working a case for three days. Or sitting outside at night, sharing a blanket with someone." She rolled over in his arms, holding on to him and nuzzling her face in his neck. "Feels good," she mumbled.
McGee kissed her hair and wondered if he was dreaming. "Those are all good things," he agreed. "Not really as exciting as the bonfire, though." He pulled back a little and traced the line of her nose, her jaw, her cheekbone.
She was smiling as she leaned in to kiss him. "You know what the problem is with bonfires, McGee?"
Saturday morning kisses were long and lazy, and left them both dizzy.
"Sometimes they're so bright you miss the fireworks."
FIN
