A/N-
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me.
Sorry, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, even if it appears otherwise. And no, I don't usually write Abby/McGee fics; this one came out of nowhere. I was going to publish it as a one-shot but I figured I'd break it into two chapters and at least build the suspense.
I'm just going to give it an M rating off the bat, because the second and final chapter is basically going to be smut, and it should be published within the week, if not sooner. It's my distraction from studying for finals.
Reviews are always appreciated, and thank you for reading! :)
Until very recently, it had been years since McGee and Abby had sex, since when they'd dated and he'd spent more than one night in her coffin.
Two weeks ago, however, Tony's birthday happened, and the team went out for drinks to celebrate. He and Abby both had consumed a little too much alcohol, and the next thing he knew, he woke up in his bed with a very naked Abby draped across his body. It was a one-night slip up, a glitch that had revealed their younger selves, and they agreed to pretend that it never happened.
The one witness to all of it was Ziva, who'd evidently been the one to call a cab for both of them. She told the driver both of their addresses, but she'd also seen them kissing in the back seat as the cab drove away. The next day at work, she'd kindly promised McGee to keep her knowledge of the affair to herself. Thankfully it was Ziva and not Tony, which made sweeping the whole ordeal under the rug far less embarrassing.
As it turned out, though, pretending it never happened turned out to be harder than McGee expected. Every time he looked at Abby, all he could remember was the wicked glint in her eye the moment they'd both woken up and clouded memories of the previous night had resurfaced; she'd given him her mischievous smile, and then to make it worse, she didn't hurry to cover herself up. She was entirely unabashed, and took more time than truly necessary to put her clothes back on.
She'd caught him staring at her on more than one occasion today, two weeks after Tony's birthday. Not that he hadn't stared at her before, but this time, it had been far more obvious, and he'd reprimanded himself for gawking so openly as he felt the heat rush to his cheeks. She'd smiled coyly, like the cat that caught the canary. Thankfully, though, she said nothing while the rest of the team was present.
But now, it was just the two of them in the elevator, heading out to the parking lot, having finished a full day's work. And really, he didn't know how it ended up being the two of them alone. He certainly hadn't noticed the grin she was wearing until her slender fingers reached for the off switch. The elevator skidded to a halt and he swallowed, nervous all of a sudden.
His anxiety multiplied tenfold as she took a step toward him, closing the distance between them, and pressed herself against him shamelessly. Her green eyes seemed to be an eerie shade of yellow in the faint light of the elevator, and she stared at him, her fingers mindlessly playing with the knot of his tie as she analyzed him. He swallowed again, and her eyes flickered to his throat.
She seemed to make a decision. "Come home with me," she commanded, their faces only inches apart, and McGee felt his jaw go slack. He'd forgotten just how bold and blunt Abby could be when she wanted something. Or someone.
Immediately, red flags appeared in his mind, warning him danger, danger! Sleeping with Abby as the result of a drunken need for closeness was one thing, but making a conscious decision to do so was different entirely, and it would alter their current relationship to a point of no return. She pressed into him and out of sheer reflex, his hands moved to her hips, clutching her closer still.
He was still trying to grasp the situation, and so he said the first thing that came to mind: "Why?"
He regretted it immediately, because the word had a connotation of reluctance rather than the confusion he was trying to convey. It wasn't that he didn't thoroughly enjoy sex with Abby—he certainly had all those years ago, and he was positive he'd enjoyed it in his state of inebriation as well, even if he couldn't quite recall the details. Rather, he was trying to assess her motivation. What did she want from him?
Thankfully, she didn't take his lack of eloquence the wrong way. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment as she really pondered his question, then her fingers traveled up to his throat, where they skimmed his hammering pulse. He sucked in his breath but was determined to hold his ground, even as his face reddened for what must have been the fourth time that day.
"Because," she said, one corner of her mouth turning up as she noted his racing heart and his wine-stained cheeks, "we deserve to do it and remember it the next day."
His grip on her waist tightened as he saw precisely how serious she was being. Before he could think it through and talk himself out of it, and acting on the part of him that wanted so desperately to feel her close to him again, he rasped, "Okay."
She stood on her toes and pressed her lips against his—a brief kiss that promised much, much more—before moving out of his arms and flicking the switch to the elevator.
He was convinced it was a dream (or maybe "fantasy" would be a more accurate term) because she didn't touch him again after that, even during the walk to their cars, which were parked two rows apart. But then she turned to him before climbing into her car and said, "I'll see you soon."
He watched numbly as she drove away, and he couldn't remember the last time his mouth had been this dry.
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