Title: After Midnight, Before Sunshine

Author: Gwenhwyfar

Pairing: Abby Sciuto / Tim McGee

Rating: NC-17 / M

Warnings: BDSM, kink, cutting, knife play, bondage

Spoilers: Tiny one for Twisted Sister

Disclaimer: I don't own the NCIS characters, unfortunately. But I love them none the less, so I respect the copyright. They're all yours, DPB.

Written: somewhere around 2008?

A/N 2008: Well, I hope you enjoy, please R'n'R but no flaming the pairing or anything, if you don't like the story then say why. Thanks.

While Abby trusts McGee, you should always be on the safe side. So use a condom, people.

A/N 2015: Since writing this, I have learned a lot more about BDSM. This is…not exactly how it's done. Please educate yourself before doing something potentially dangerous like this.

He came down to her lab. There was no active case, so she was cleaning the space, updating her software and putting her CD's in alphabetical order. Being bored was another way to describe it. She was glad to hear the swooshing sound of the lab door, expecting to see Gibbs coming down with evidence. Pretending not to have heard the door, she continued to fiddle with the CD's.

"Hey Abby." She looked up, smiling. Not Gibbs after all.

"Hey Tim, what brings you down here?"

"I came to ask you something." he blushed. She loved it when he blushed, it looked so cute.

"Do you remember my sister Sara? The peanut butter-case?"

"Yes, of course. How is she doing? Did she pass her exams?"

"You remember! Well, that is why I came to you. She graduated and she invited me to come to her graduating party. And she asked me to invite you. So, do you want to come?"

Abby had answered with an exclaimed "Yes!"

Two days later she dressed up in a red dress with black high heels. She did the things quite well, despite common opinion, and Tim would be pleased. She wore a black choker without any studs or chains and her hair was done up in a French twist. McGee picked her up at seven p.m., right on time as always. She had opened the door and his jaw dropped. She had teased him about his speechlessness and they drove to the party. It was actually a nice one. She danced all evening, talking and laughing. She congratulated Sara, giving her a big hug and a necklace as a present. Sara had thanked her once again for her help and gave her a wink, with a nod in Tim's direction. Abby had taken the hint with a smile, then turned once more to the dance floor.

She had danced with more people than she could remember. One of them was a charming boy who had turned out to be Sara's new love interest. Another one was a nephew of Tim, looking very much like him, the only difference were the numerous piercings he had and the all-black tux he wore. He flirted with her like she did with him, but returned to his wife and their little daughter. Abby thought the three of them looked so adorable. It almost made her wish she had a child herself. But before she could hold on to that thought a sixty-something man asked her for a dance. He turned out to be Tim's father, and a great dancer at that. He had elegance and led her easily. At the end of the song his wife claimed him again and like magic, Tim was back at her side. It was great to see him in an environment in which he felt perfectly at ease. Strange how people forget why they loved someone. He flirted with her and showed that he had inherited his father's dancing skills. A skill she had not expected, although she should have. After all, didn't people say that one has sex as one dances? And from her experiences…

At one a.m. most guests were gone and only family, Sara's boyfriend and Abby were left. They cleaned up a bit and sat down for another drink. Tim had drank two beers and she had had 5 cokes, so she had enough sugar in her bloodstream to last trough the night. Suddenly, Tim rose from his chair and said to his family that he had to go, and he pulled Abby with him. She was surprised by this, but went with it. Waving to the McGee's before leaving the building, she could barely stay on her feet with Tim pulling at her wrist. But he could do whatever he wanted to do: she decided when they would leave the area. After all, she was going to drive. There was no way in hell Tim was driving, he was nowhere near drunk, but alcohol was alcohol and she'd seen more than enough drink and drive accidents to take his keys from him and drive him home. It wasn't until she pulled up at his parking lot that she realised her car was still at her home. She had to crash at his place, then. She wasn't going to walk to her apartment, and it was late. She knew his way around his apartment and she didn't mind. A bed was a bed.

When they were inside, she sat on the couch and undid the shoe clasps. Taking those things of was better than ice cream right now. Barefoot, she went to the kitchen and took two glasses and a carton of milk.

"Hey Abs, I need to show you something."

"I usually run away when someone says that to me."

He grinned, and then took of the jacket of his suit. She put the glasses and milk down on the coffee table and walked over to him. He handed her his jacket and started to unbutton his shirt. She thought nothing of it, after all, she'd seen the rest of him too. Every inch of him.

He successfully unbuttoned his shirt and took it off.

"So, what's the big surprise, Timmy?"

He said nothing, just turned around. Her jaw dropped, and so did the jacket she was holding. Covering his back was a big tribal tattoo depicting a dragon. She touched it, tracing the lines with her index finger. It was stunning.

"Do you like it?"

"Tim, it is so beautiful! I love it! When did you get this?"

"Had the last session three weeks ago. I'm pleased that you like it."

"It's huge! It must have cost at least a grand!"

He grinned. "More like 250 and a lot of free hours installing computers for the artist and his friends."

She touched the tat again. And an evil grin spread across her face. "How about the pain?"

"I didn't mind the pain, Abby." Not quite the answer she expected.

He turned around to look her in the eyes. He had beautiful eyes, truly the mirrors of his soul. Suddenly he grabbed the back of her head and kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth. Her knees buckled and shots of pain, excitement and ecstasy went through her spine. And she didn't care. She didn't care at all. She kissed him back just as passionately. The milk was entirely forgotten.

He lifted her up in the air holding her back and bottom, and carried her to his bedroom. Although her lungs were working at 300%, there was no way she was the one stopping the kiss. The bedroom was no longer the place she remembered from her first visits, but then again, she hadn't paid an awful lot of attention the last time she was here, with Mikel chasing her. Now she saw he had a new king-size bed, his room was dark and neat and the heavy curtains were closed. It was a pretty room, but for the moment all she saw was a bit of the wall. Her eyes were partially closed as he gently pulled her dress over her head to find a bustier and garter belt. The choker went off in a swift motion. He untied the bustier almost painfully slow, only increasing her arousal. When the thing was finally open, he threw it away and proceeded to kiss her tat. For some reason, her back had always been one of those points for her and when her tattoos had been done it was even more sensitive. He worked his way up to her neck, via her spine. By the time he turned her again to kiss her face she was slightly moaning. She pushed nearly all thoughts about 'this shouldn't be happening' away when he pushed her down and proceeded to undress her fully. Stockings. Garter belt. Thong. Still, she felt like she had to say something.

"Tim, we…"

But all he did was give her that kiss again, and the half-hearted protests were silenced. She was completely naked now. He, however, still wore his shoes and pants. She got the hint. He was the Top. She had no problem with it. Although he was underappreciated at work, he never complained but now he wanted to be in control. She understood. This happened more. She for one didn't mind at all that she was the sub. She had seen both sides of it several times and went into substate as easily as she got someone in it. With her way of life, flirting with everyone, being in control and pulling the strings, she loved being told what to do for once.

"Abigail. Safeword?" Saying her full name was his way to separate work-Abby from the Abby in his arms right now.

"Sunshine."

He laughed a bit about this unlikely word, and realised just the same it was a word she could be at ease with.

"The rules are simple, Abigail. I am 'Sir', you are mine. You do what I tell you to do and you don't say a word or make a noise unless and until I say so. Only when, of course, you want to say the safeword. Understood?"

She looked at him to wait for his nod, before speaking.

"Yes, Sir."

"One last thing, condom or not?"

She shook her head. She wanted him too much, she wanted to feel every inch of him again, pure. She trusted him, and she was on birth control.

"Very well. Now lie down on your back, close your eyes. Don't move or speak!"

He walked around in the room a bit, but she couldn't hear what he was doing. She thought he was preparing for whatever he was going to do to her. And then she realised she didn't know what he was going to do. She had no clue whatsoever about his preferences. The tiniest surge of panic crossed her mind. Well, she would see. Or no, she wouldn't. He blindfolded her all of the sudden. She couldn't see a single ray of light, the thick velvet was obscuring her view.

"Abigail, your right hand." She just raised it and felt him taking it, cupping the small of her back and lifting her into a sitting position. She felt hands at her thighs, spreading her legs. Some movement behind her, and then… a feather caressed her spine, slowly moving up and down. Circling around her shoulder blades and following the contours of her tattoo's both at her back and on her neck. She resisted the urge to shudder and moan at the exquisite feeling. No sounds. He gripped her shoulders and pulled her against him. She could hear his heartbeat; it was steady and calm. The feather continued the journey at the front of her body, on her neck, circling around her nipples, paying a short visit to her belly button before it reached it's final destination: her sex. He tickled her with the feather, until she was so wet the feather became sticky

"You like that, don't you, Abigail? Speak."

"Yes, sir, I do, sir."

He stood up again, this time to fetch another swatch of velvet, which he wound around her hands, fastening them together at her back.

"On your stomach, Abigail."

This was a tough one without the use of her eyes and hands. Pulling her legs under her, she shuffled back a bit and then let herself fall onto the bed. She trusted the bed to be soft enough not to hurt. Much.

"Good girl! Lay your head with that pretty nose pointing to the right, and wait here for me. Don't move." he warned her, then went out of the room. She must have laid there for at least ten minutes before he returned. She didn't like the sounds she was hearing. A knife, no, several knifes being sharpened and then laid down. He went to sit on top of her, pushing her hands up ever so slightly. He still wore his pants, but she could feel his stiffness through the fabric. Twisting involuntary she thought about saying the safeword, and "sun…" was already on her lips when she decided out of the blue to trust him. He had never hurt her so far. And when she was about to relax a little to his weight on her back, she could hear the sound of one knife touching another. Focused on his movements, she felt his weight move ever so slightly, and then…

Pain. Two ice cold knifes were pushed into her skin, making vertical carvings on her back. She gasped, not screaming just yet, but the next ones came right after and now she had to scream as the pain seared through her whole body. She felt two hot tears in her blindfold, but he was off of her and next to her in less than three seconds. She felt something cold touching her lips and for a moment she thought he was losing his mind, cutting open her face. But the knifes melted! It tasted like water and she understood. It had been psychology. The 'knives' were ice cubes.

"How did that feel, Abigail? Speak."

"It hurt, Sir. And I liked it."

"I heard you were considering a new tattoo lately?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where? Explain in detail."

"I have been thinking about a single rose on my belly, just above the pubic hair line. With the stem around my belly button."

"Ever heard of cutting, Abigail?" Whoa, he most certainly had a knife fetish going on. And it was turning her on like crazy.

"Yes, sir. I have."

"I have been doing it a little over two years now. Would you like me to do it on you? Say no if you don't want to, I won't be angry with you."

She considered it for several moments. If she did this, there was no turning back. The thing would be there for at least six months, maybe even longer. But then again, a tattoo would be there for the rest of her life. So why not give it a try?

"Please."

Again she was ordered to lie down, this time on her back. Her hands were fastened to the bed, her legs remaining free. Apparently there had been handcuffs at the ready, too. He went to work, having everything he needed within reach. She smelled water, soap and alcohol solution, and felt soft towels wiping everything away except for the alcohol. His voice was steady as ever as he spoke.

"I'm using a scalpel. Relax and just let everything happen. Say the safeword if you need to. Try not to move."

And she did exactly so. The first cut was durable, the second hurt. Third hurt like hell, and at the fourth she considered to break the rules and scream. But he paused and wiped the blood away, giving her time to compose herself. The cuts thereafter hurt less and less as the endorphin kicked in on top gear. She never noticed he had finished until he said her name several times. When her mind cleared the pain returned, but at an acceptable level. It burned a little and bled a lot, blood which he wiped away with caring and loving gestures. He talked to her in short sentences, saying the cut was pretty and she was pretty. Then he released her wrists again from the bedpost and bound them in front of her.

"On your knees. I'm counting to five!"

How was she supposed to do that? "One."

Oh god, she didn't know! "Two."

Eventually she managed to get into that kneeling positing when he was at "Five." She sat on her knees, her legs spread to show her sex (and the cutting) and her head bowed, but her shoulders backwards, breasts pointing up. The nipples were so hard she was sure they could have split diamonds. He grabbed her head again and they shared a long, rough kiss, in which she leaned as if it was her salvation. When he pulled back she almost fell forward at the loss, but there was a new thing. He'd inserted a vibrator during the kiss. She was so wet and so busy with the kiss she hadn't noticed until the thing was secured in her and it began vibrating. She wanted to come, but of course he wasn't finished with her. Fortunately.

"You do understand you can't come until I say so, Abigail? You have been very bad, screaming in our little game with the ice cubes."

It was a question, so she was allowed to answer. With some effort she could bring herself to say "Yes, Sir. Sorry." This wasn't too hard, she could handle it. Being blindfolded, cuffed, cut and with a vibrator inside, she could still cope. He took his time. One by one he pulled the pins from her hair, until it fell. And he started combing it, ever so slow and precise, until she was sure she would come, prohibition or not. Especially when he began 'combing' her back, the iron teeth caressing her body. His voice was even when he asked her, "Do you want me to make you come with my cock inside you, Abigail?"

Unable to utter any sounds other than pleads or moans, she simply nodded.

Her wrists were released, but the blindfold stayed where it was. In one firm motion he pulled the vibrator out of her, almost making her come that way. He was undressed, she couldn't remember him doing it, but then again she had been so busy restraining herself he could have grown three heads and she wouldn't have noticed. She was still on her knees, and he slid himself under her. She felt his groin, longing for it, and with one swift motion, he lifted her and pushed her on him. Now she did gasp, the sensation of being filled causing new arousal.

"Move those hips for me, Abigail. Make us come." He commanded. And god, she did. His hands were on her hips, digging his nails into her flesh while her hands were on his chest. She needed him to have an orgasm, she couldn't fail. Increasing her speed every two or three thrusts, she was panting. If she wasn't allowed to cum very soon, she was going to whether he commanded her or not. And he was holding himself back too.

"I want us to come at the same time, Abigail." he said. Trying to keep that even tone.

"Sir..."

"Now."

And at that word he relaxed himself and came. And she came too. She whispered his name, her world greyed out for a while as she felt the waves of her orgasm tear through her whole body and simultaneously she felt him spill. She had done it.

He tore the blindfold away and kissed her again. She was tired, but it was comforting at the same time. He pulled himself out, and she mourned the loss of contact. He talked to her the whole time, whispering sweet words and saying how beautiful she was. She let him take her to the bathroom, where they took a shower together. He washed her, paying attention to every place of her body, then dried her. He went to his bedroom for five minutes, while she was sitting on the floor, with the bath mat between her and the cold tiles. After coming back, he helped her up and kept her steady. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, she finally had the chance to see his work. And it was very sophisticated. Careful not to hurt her, he bandaged the cuts he made before scooping her up and laying her on the bed. She noticed the clean sheets, soft and fresh. He stepped in the bed at the other side and covered them both with the comforter. Pulling her head on his chest he said "Sleep."

She fell asleep instantly.