Second Chance

by channelD

written for: the NFA McAbby challenge and the Wishing Well challenge

rating: K plus

characters: Tim, Abby

genre: fantasy/drama

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disclaimer: I own nothing of NCIS.

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Chapter 1

He stood before the well in the Maryland woods for a long moment, gazing into its depths, but being careful not to lean too far over to see down. When you grow up in a mostly-rural area, where wells are still in use, you're admonished from an early age to take care not to fall in. Remembering this made Tim McGee chuckle, but still, he kept his distance.

It was a pretty little well; storybook like, with a slanted roof, a handle, and a bucket on a rope. A dipper hung on a nail on the side. Like many modern people, Tim had some suspicions about the safety of water from unknown sources, but since there were no bones lying about, he figured others had drunk it safely. Lowering the bucket, he was soon rewarded with a cool, sweet drink. After quenching his thirst, he turned to go back to his hike, but then stopped.

It's a well. I can make a wish.

It was a silly thing, he knew, but no one was around to see him do it. Now…what to wish for?

As if they had been waiting in his mind for just this moment, the words came out in as rush. "I wish Abby would give me another chance!"

He clapped his hands to his mouth as soon as the last words were out. Was that what he really wanted? Wasn't there anything better to wish for, something trifling, like, oh, world peace? What did the emotions of two little people on the planet really matter when there were so many global problems…disease, natural disasters, war, climate change, ethnic strife, hunger, poverty, crime?

"I wish…" he began valiantly, but the words died in his throat. He knew, instinctively, that this well operated strictly on a one wish per customer rule.

His wish had been made, for better or worse.

- - - - -

That had happened on a Wednesday. On Thursday, back at work, he found himself nervous about his next encounter with Abby, whenever it would be. Stop that, he scolded himself. It's just a legend. There's no such thing as a well that grants wishes. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something momentous would soon happen. He only could hope that it would be something good.

Gibbs sent him down to Abby's lab in mid-morning. With trepidation Tim went, forcing a smile as he entered her domain.

"Tim! Tim! Tim! Tim! Tim!" She bounced excitedly on seeing him. "I was sort of hoping that Gibbs would come down himself, 'cause this is such an important case, but you…you're even better! Much better!" She threw her arms around him and gave him a bone-crushing hug.

"Oh, yeah?" Tim never knew exactly how to respond to Abby's stream-of-consciousness proclamations. It was always best to sound neutral, since an opinion expressed wrongly could raise her ire.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! You are just the right person. I don't even know why I thought Gibbs would be more suitable. Bad Abby! Tim, you are perfect. In every way."

"Oh?" Tim said again, pinking in pleasure.

Smiling, she drew a stool for him close to hers, and patted the seat, inviting him. "It's always nice to have you here, Tim. You're just so…Tim."

She went on to a torrent of geek speak, which he listened to and followed but with only one ear. She seemed genuinely thrilled by his presence! Not just happy-to-see-her-friend. Thrilled by him, as if he was the most important person in her life.

He blinked. Could it be?

Did wishes really come true?

Suddenly feeling his collar tight, he loosened his necktie slightly. It's not possible. I don't believe in magic.

But, what if…what if…

Did he dare make a wrong move? If he had been given only one more chance with Abby, he had to take care not to blow it. This might be his last chance, ever.

So he tuned her back in and nodded and made pleased grunts at the appropriate points, and several times over told her how brilliant she was and what a great job she had done.

She was glowing when she finished, and her emerald green eyes tracked his face. "I'm so glad you think so, Tim. Your opinion means so much to me!" Then she added, "Would you like to come over to my place tonight, for dinner?"

More than anything, he wanted to say yes, but in good conscience, he couldn't. "I'm sorry, Abby. Sarah's appearing at a poetry slam tonight, and I said I would be there."

To his surprise, she hugged him again, and didn't let him go for a long moment. "I understand; of course I do! You're such a good brother. That's a wonderful trait, Tim…so, how about tomorrow night?"

Tomorrow? I get to sleep on this notion? "Why, sure. Tomorrow would be great!"

"Oh, I'm so glad!" she said, and clapped her hands like a child. "It's even better! Now I'll have time to plan you a really special dinner!"

"Don't go to any trouble for me," Tim said automatically. It was what a polite person said, after all.

"But I must! Tim! It's…you! You are special!"

Wow. She really seems to believe what she's saying. He only grinned a little sheepishly. "What time tomorrow?"

"Let's say 7. If you drive me home, we'll have more time together." She looked into his eyes, smiling.

"Uh, I don't mind, but we do see each other a lot here…"

"Not the same, Timmy," she whispered. "Not the same."

Then Gibbs phoned him to ask him if he'd gotten marooned in the lab. "I've gotta go," Tim said, wishing more than anything that he didn't have to say that. "See you later."

"I hope so," she said, still with that bright-eyed smile.

- - - - -

Tony did a double-take on seeing Tim return to the squad room. "What's up with you, McGee?"

"Nothing," Tim said swiftly. "Why should anything be up with me?"

"You have a look…like you have swallowed a rainbow," said Ziva.

"No swallowing Ziva's sweaters," said Gibbs, striding in. "Grab your gear. Dead lance corporal in Shenandoah Park."

In the ride down to Virginia, Tim tried to keep his mind on the new case, as Gibbs filled them in. His over-eager thoughts, however, invariably returned to Abby. Abby. Abby.

"Did you even hear what I said, McGee?" Gibbs snapped.

Tim heard that. "Uh, not entirely, boss." He shrank a little in his seat, embarrassed. Still, in the background, his mind sang softly, Abby, Abby, Abby.

A little irritated, Tim clenched his teeth. She's put a spell on me. Realizing that there was no such thing as a spell, he then shook his head slightly. Still, what other explanation could there be? Why else would she be invading his mind so?

They returned to DC around 6, and Tim had to fly to get home, cleaned up, and changed, and over to DuPont Circle for Sarah's poetry night. He tried to give her his fullest attention, and joined in with the audience finger clicking at the right spots, but he was beginning to resign himself to the sorriest of fates: He had found love, and love had found him.

- - - - -

The next day, work kept them both busy, so Tim didn't see Abby until the day's end when he was to drive her home. He waited for her at the building entrance, and she was almost on time.

"You remembered!" she said, smiling and bouncing in joy as she saw him. "Timmy, you are so sweet and thoughtful!"

It was almost getting to be a bit much. But he smiled, and did so even more broadly when she took his arm. He let her keep up a happy string of babble all the way to her apartment.

"Now, you just sit here comfortably and don't do a thing," she said as she handed him a glass of wine. "Dinner will be ready shortly."

"Are you sure I can't help—"

"No, Timmy! No! But thanks for the offer. Your job is to let me pamper you. I hope you like what I've fixed…" A tone almost of worry crept into her sunny voice.

"I'm sure I will," he called to her back as she swept away into the kitchen. "You're a great cook! Even Ziva—" He clamped his mouth shut, not wanting to spoil the evening by mentioning anyone else.

"Ziva?" Abby's voice sounded puzzled. Then she called, "I hope you like scalloped potatoes—I think these came out nicely."

"Love them," he called back.

The dinner proved to be amazing. Abby had indeed gone all out, with beouf bourguignon and tasty side dishes. The most rich, tastiest crème brulee served as dessert. "You must have been up half the night, cooking!" Tim exclaimed. "Abby, this is the best meal I've ever had!"

"Do you really think so, Tim?" She looked at him in adoration. "I wanted it to be just right. Because it's you."

"I would have been happy with hamburgers," he laughed, then backpedalled on seeing her face fall. "I mean, hamburgers made by you would be sensational. But this…I feel like I've been served a meal fit for a king!"

"That's how I think of you, Tim," she said, and she sounded serious.

"Now all I need is a kingdom," he grinned.

"And a queen?"

He hadn't expected this turn of events. All he had assumed he'd get was a good meal, and, if he was lucky, nothing would cause a little spat to emerge. Abby was mercurial; who ever knew what might make her mad? But this, tonight…he felt, oddly, like Cinderella, all dressed up and at the Prince's ball, where all the cares of the daily world were gone, and there was only beauty and romance.

"It's getting late," he said, looking at his watch. "I'd better go."

She kissed him, playfully, on the cheek. "Silly Timmy. It's Friday. You don't have to work tomorrow. Stay here with me tonight."

"Well, uh…"

She kissed him again, this time on the lips, and that settled that.

- - - - -

They were up early the next morning, for, although there was no NCIS work to do, both had other things scheduled. This was Abby's weekend to work for Habitat for Humanity, and Tim had writing planned.

"I'll see you Monday, Tim," Abby said, with a little wave, as he started out the door. "You will be there Monday, won't you?"

"As far as I know," he said.

"Okay, good. Take care, Tim."

"You, too." He gave her a final kiss, and then left. In just one look over his shoulder as he reached his car, he saw her still at her doorway, looking wistful. Tim almost turned back, with a thought of working with her at Habitat for Humanity, but realized that would be silly. He didn't know much of anything about home building.

Abby is acting weird. Unbidden, that thought came to him as he drove away. Tim tried to shove it out of his mind but it persisted. She's acting weird. Not like normal Abby. She was acting like she was in…in love.

And whatever was wrong with that, McGee?

McGee. She hadn't even called him 'McGee' in the last couple days. That alone was odd.

Don't I want her to be in love with me? Isn't that what I wished for?

There's no such thing as a wishing well.

What does it matter? We're both happy…I only hope this lasts.

- - - - -

Monday morning, Abby appeared early in the squad room; very early. It was barely 6:30 a.m. Tim was not there yet. Abby circled his desk twice.

"Is something going on, Abby?" said a young, long-haired woman, setting her personal gear down on a nearby desk.

"No, no, nothing." Abby looked her way then. "Oh, sorry; I was expecting Kate there this morning. But this must be her vacation week. Are you filling in for her?"

"Kate?" Ziva David looked at her, puzzled.