A/N: This is a very short, light oneshot written for the NFA Abs in Absentia challenge. We had to write a story that centered around Abby not being there, but she couldn't appear in any way, shape or form. I went for a fluffy little story with hints of McAbby. Enjoy! ...just don't expect anything serious.
Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS and I'm not making money off it. ...but I did get my Ph.D. this last weekend. It might not be giving me money yet, but maybe someday soon. :)
Where Are You?
by Enthusiastic Fish
Tim looked around impatiently. He'd been sitting here for the last thirty minutes. All right. No more waiting. He pulled out his phone and dialed. He waited and listened to Abby's voice mail...and sighed.
"Abby...where are you? I've been waiting here. You said you'd be here at seven. It's seven thirty. What's going on? This is Tim...call me back, please."
He hung up.
...and drummed his fingers on the table...just waiting. He felt a little out of place here. It wasn't that he'd never been in a situation like this...but he'd been a lot younger and, to be honest, this was the kind of thing that one should really indulge in...privately, not in a group, particularly not a group like this.
He caught more than a few stares.
Twenty minutes later. He pulled out his phone again. A large group came in all at once and the noise level increased about 200 percent. He covered his ear with one hand.
"Abby! Come on! I've been here for an hour!"
The bells and clangs and gunshots were hard to talk over.
"This was your idea."
Tim grimaced as he looked around and met more questioning eyes. Some of these people no doubt thought he was some kind predator. He hung up again. This was getting ridiculous. Abby had come up with this idea. He had gone along with it reluctantly...well, semi-reluctantly. It had been a long time and it could be fun...but not by himself!
He sat for another ten minutes and then his phone rang. He answered on the first ring.
"Abby! Where have you been?" he said.
"Wait. No! No, this isn't my fault. You told me the arcade in the Federal Triangle. That's where I am! Where are you?"
He listened and scoffed.
"Okay. You want me to send you your email?"
He pulled down his phone, jumped into it and then sent it over to Abby.
"See?"
There was a long silence.
"Come on, Abby. Who was right, here?"
Another silence.
"Where are you?"
He threw back his head and laughed.
"My apartment is not an arcade. It's where I live."
Tim flushed and then looked away from a couple of parents corraling their kids.
"No, Abby. You wanted a head-on battle. You and me playing Street Fighter, arcade style. What you're suggesting is not Street Fighter."
Tim cleared his throat.
"You get over here and I'll consider that as a follow-up...if you can win."
He grinned, blushed and hung up. Then, he sat down to wait. Now that they knew where they were both supposed to be, it would be a fun night.
...no matter how it ended.
FINIS!