It was late, but it was a big case. No bodies, no rapes, no bombs, and no interest from the team, but it was a big case for Abby. A new cocktail of chemicals was coming up in drug tests, and if there was something new to be known in the world of biochemistry, Abby wanted to be the first. The thrill of the chase, the excitement of discovery and the pride of a new paper to her name pushed her on long past home time. With cheery loud goth music blearing, she'd been bouncing around, pigtails flying, plaid skirt swinging, enjoying that special feeling that comes only from jumping round in platform boots, uninterrupted all though everyone else's dull paperwork day.
But it was late, knee high Demonia boots were replaced with skeleton pajama pants and fuzzy socks, goth metal with uncharacteristically smooth lounge jazz, Abby pulled out her pigtails and prepared for a cozy night on the futon in the ballistics lab behind her office. She padded quietly out of the ballistics lab, through the office and into her lab, checked on Major Mass-Spec, who was quietly doing his job, kissed him goodnight and went to lie down. There was a windy storm brewing outside, as she contentedly lay in her cozy unconventional sanctuary reading a journal by the soft light of a single black candle, a gothic indulgence that was so very her.
Just settled, she heard the soft sound of the lab door opening. There was nothing very unusual about anyone in the team working that late, but tonight no one had much work to do. As the sliding glass door to her office opened, she began to worry, they would surely have seen her little pool of candle light, but who was "they"? Her mind inadvertently ran through all the dangerous criminals her work had put away over the years, leaving her breathlessly terrified after about half a second.
The ballistics lab would be a great fortress, a perfect place to hide, if only she'd thought of it that way earlier and locked some doors. She was sitting up, knees to her chest blanket pulled up to her nose when there was a gentle knock, and the door gently opened, revealing the sweet, reassuring face of Ducky.
"Ducky! ...You scared me." She said sulkily, lowering the puffy quilt, thus adding slight pout to the view of her wide eyed, kicked puppy expression.
"Abby! I'm so sorry!" He said with genuine concern. He knelt down in front of her and gave her a comforting little hug. "I thought I'd that check you hadn't gone out in the storm... But I see you haven't." He gave her a gentle, approving sort of smile.
"What are you still doing here?" She asked, her voice still perky and bright even in its most tired state.
"I decided to do a bit of a spring clean downstairs and it got away from me, I kept thinking there was just a little more to do, and now well..." He gestured to the stormy darkness outside. "It got rather late."
"Ducky, it's always crazy clean down there!"
"Well, now it certainly is." He said, lying back, settling down onto his elbows beside her, quite happy to wait through at least the worst of the storm. "So, is there a lucky young gentleman right now?" He asked in casual, conversational tones of his gentle dry accent.
"No." She said definitely. "I've shifted my focus." She said with a "serious" expression and a little nod.
"Oh?"
Not sure how to go on, she tried to answer concisely. "I'm waiting for, well I think a want a grown up kind of thing with, not white picket fences or kids or anything, but something more, someone more special, something more real... I guess." And failed.
"And do you have a plan on how to organise that?"
"No." She looked down, nose on her knees, nails unconsciously fiddling in front of her slim shins. "Yes"
He didn't move as she leaned over him slowly, one hand gently touching his chest, and kissed his lips. She was back sitting beside him, breathing heavily, hugging her knees, before he had time to react.
"Abby?" He said gently.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean, I should have just told you! I didn't mean.." Then she whispered "I'm sorry Ducky."
She didn't look up as he got up slowly, and walked out the door, or as she heard the sliding door open. It started raining hard outside, and once she judged that he'd be out of the lab's main door, she risked a glance out the ballistics lab door, eyes filled with tears. He was not out of the main door, he was standing still in front of it, back to her, breathing deeply, possibly composing himself before facing the world. She buried her face back in her knees, trying to calm herself, listening to the rain outside, when she heard, a very long few seconds later, the sliding door close... He must have come back that far, hopefully just to close it. She dreaded him coming back in, having to explain, having to confess even more than she already had. After another very long second, she heard his footsteps stop at the open door. With scared, teary eyes, she look up at him without lifting her head.
"Oh… Abby... Are you alright?" He asked gently.
He knelt in front of her when it became clear she was not going to answer.
He reached out and gingerly touched the little bit of her cheek that wasn't hidden.
She looked up through her hair, as he moved toward her as if to kiss her cheek, as he was apt to do when she was upset. She leant back away from him. His pity might ease the disappointment, but it could only worsen the humiliation. To her confused surprise, he ignored her obvious misgiving and continued to move toward her. Determined to refuse his sympathy, she moved back until she was almost lying flat on the bed, propped slightly on her elbows, while he matched her. Like an invisible link between them, she moved away, and he kept crawling forward, having to end up over her, just to keep the same distance between their faces. With his hands now one each side of her body, one knee between hers, he took the liberty. He kissed her lips, first softly, gently, until she sank to the bed, then finally, slowly allowed the years of hidden passion to surface and pilot his actions. They paused eventually for breath.
"What made you change your mind?" She asked quietly, tentatively.
"Oh my dear, I didn't change my mind" He smiled.
She gave him a baffled, questioning, worried expression.
He answered: "I locked the doors."