Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. Not even just a little bit.
A/N: There are just a few things before we begin:
1) This fic is finished. There are 7 chapters, and I'll be updating every few days. The chapters aren't long, and they're all pretty much the same length.
2) There are no relationships in this story, however there is some Tabby friendship.
3) There is some graphic content, that's why it's rated so highly.
4) What you've read in the summery is what you're going to get. If you don't like Tabby friendship, or the idea of psychics, or sad/angsty stories, don't read this. You're only wasting your time, and do you really want to spend valuable moments of your life reading something that you already know is going to happen? Save yourself the trouble and click the back button.
5) I love hearing what you have to say! If you have any constructive remarks, please share them with me in a review, however, if you want to be a jerk, don't bother leaving a review. Flames only waste your time and make me laugh.
Now, on with the story!
Chapter 1
The Elevator Scene
Abby was not a happy camper. No, she definitely was not. She'd left work late that night, after finishing a ballistics report for Gibbs, and had been intent upon going to bed and staying there all weekend. It was the first weekend she'd had off in nearly a month- between a number of rough cases for Gibbs and several other's from different agents in the building, she'd been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. She'd been looking forward to doing nothing work related all weekend.
The call from Gibbs had not been welcome, but something in his voice on the phone had her agreeing to be back at the Navy Yard in an hour. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning then, and she'd grumbled all the way from her coffin, to her dresser, to the bathroom, and out the front door. Why did cases always have to come in so early in the morning anyway? Couldn't people get killed at a decent hour?
She sipped from a Caf-Pow she'd pulled from her fridge on the way into work, and was sure it was the only thing that was keeping her awake. She didn't know what she'd do without her daily dose of Caf-Pow. Probably sleep all day. She laughed to herself at that thought, wondering what Gibbs would say if he walked into her lab to find her passed out over her computer, in the middle of running a specimen sample. It probably wouldn't be pretty.
The parking lot was pitch black when she pulled into her usual space and got out of the car. Gibbs Charger was just a few spaces down for hers, situated between Ducky's Morgan and Ziva's Mini Cooper. At least she'd have good company. Team Gibbs was easily her favorite team, and they were always visiting her and bringing her Caf-Pows, unlike the others. The other's didn't care if she was exhausted, and while she still had a job to do when Gibbs came calling, at least he brought her an incentive to get the job done- a delicious Caf-Pow to make up for her trouble.
She waved to the security guard in the lobby as she passed by his desk, and he gave her a wave back. She'd always liked the night staff. They were so much friendlier than the day staff- always willing to stop what they were doing to have a conversation. Abby didn't have time for a conversation that night, but a smile and a wave from the guard behind the desk, Stanley if she remembered correctly, was enough to make her not so bitter about having to come into work so early on her weekend off.
The elevator doors slid open with a ding and Abby almost didn't notice Tony standing in its depths. He was standing in the middle staring in front of him with a blank expression on her face that she found to be more than a little unsettling. Was Tony ever silent? No. Did he ever look so lost? No. This was definitely not good.
"Good morning," she greeted him, putting on more cheer than she was actually feeling as she pressed the button for her floor and waited for the doors to close.
"Hey Abs," he looked over at her, confusion clouding his handsome face.
Tony was definitely a handsome man. He certainly wasn't her type, but she wouldn't say anything negative about him. He was so vibrant and funny, with always something to say at the drop of a hat. She loved his movie quotes, and his crazy pop culture references. It was just so hard to not love Tony. He was just a loveable person. It was for this reason that she found it so disconcerting to see him looking so out of it. Tony never looked out of it.
"Are you okay?" She couldn't help but ask, knowing that something was wrong.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay," Tony nodded.
"Bad case?" She pressed, switching her purse from one arm to the other, feeling like their needed to be some kind of movement in the small space.
"What?" Tony seemed confused.
"The case? The one Gibbs called me in to work on? I asked if it was a tough one," Abby responded, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Oh, yeah, I guess so," Tony turned back to look at the elevator doors. "I'm kind of tired."
"Yeah, me too," Abby nodded.
"I feel all fuzzy," Tony admitted.
"Like a teddy bear?" She wondered, reaching out to feel his skin, but he pulled back.
"No, like I'm in a fog," Tony clarified.
"You need a day off," Abby said. "So do I. Let's get this case over with so we can take a break."
"Yeah," Tony nodded his head slightly, just as the elevator doors slid open on Abby's floor.
"I'll see you later Tony. Maybe we can get breakfast if the boss man isn't running you too ragged," Abby suggested, stepping out of the elevator and looking over her shoulder at him as she spoke.
It sent a chill down her spine when he said, "yeah, breakfast."
The doors shut on him, but Abby continued to stare at the elevator feeling like something was wrong. This was not typical Tony behavior. A tired Tony was usually more obnoxious than usual- more talkative and bouncy. Maybe it was the case that was getting to him, or maybe the utter exhaustion she herself was feeling was catching up with him. Whatever it was, it was not good.
She had only the walk to her lab to dwell on Tony's behavior in the elevator though, because Gibbs was waiting for her with a box of evidence and a clipboard. The look on his face told her that something was wrong, and she recalled the way his voice had sounded on the phone when he'd called to ask her to come in. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look so pained.
"Hey," she greeted, heading straight for her office to drop her bag beneath her desk and drape her black jacket over her computer chair before heading back into the lab and stopping in front of Gibbs. "What's up, Gibbs? You look terrible. This a bad one?"
"The worst," Gibbs nodded, handing her the clipboard, which she signed with a flourish.
"That seems to be the consensus. I just had the weirdest conversation-" she stopped talking as she took stock of what was in the evidence box. "Tony has a jacket just like that."
"That is Tony's jacket," Gibbs responded, his eyes moving to look at the black leather fabric.
"Why is Tony's jacket in evidence?" Abby wondered, snapping on a pair of latex gloves and pulling the jacket from the box, revealing what was beneath it. "And his pants? And his shirt?"
She assumed that this was why he'd been so distracted on the elevator. Something had happened and he'd had to hand in his expensive designer clothes. She mentally vowed to be careful with the valuable fabric she was now holding. It would only upset him further if she ruined his things. But of course she knew him better than to think that it was the clothing that had Tony so distracted. Of course that couldn't be the problem. He'd lost plenty of clothes to tests before, and these were no more special than all the others. If his clothes were in evidence, and he was so upset, he must have known the victim.
"Oh god, Gibbs," Abby looked up at the older man sharply, but his eyes were still on the evidence box. "Who was it? Not his neighbor, Mrs. O'Leary I hope. She was such a nice old lady, always bringing over potato soup."
"Abby," Gibbs turned his head to look at her, the pain in his eyes still visible.
Gibbs was upset. This was not good. If Gibbs was upset, and Tony's clothes were in evidence, it could only mean one thing. They'd only called her when there was evidence for her to process- it didn't mean that they weren't working a hard, dangerous case before then.
"Who?" Abby demanded, setting the leather jacket on the stainless steel table beside the evidence box.
Her heart was pounding as she waited for the words to escape Gibbs lips- as she waited to hear who was dead. Was it McGee? Nerdy, sweet McGee? Was it Ziva? Kick-ass, ninja assassin Ziva? She didn't want it to be either of them. She didn't want anybody to be dead.
"Tony." His voice cracked only slightly as he delivered the news.
A/N: So what do you think? Weird? Terrible? Amazing? Blah? Let me know your thoughts!
