Title: Christmas Stockings (a.k.a. a Sir/Little Tease Christmas)
Rating: T
Spoilers: Gibbs' Shannon/Kelly arc.
Summary: Abby has a Christmas gift in mind for her Sir…
Author's Note: Merry Christmas, guys! This year, you've been amazing. I've met so many lovely people through the NCIS fanfic fandom, and this is for every one of you. *festive hugs*
Christmas Eve has been unusually quiet this year. The case Gibbs and his team are working on wraps at around two p.m., and he cuts DiNozzo, McGee and Ziva loose soon after. As they wish him a Merry Christmas and make for the elevator, he heads in the opposite direction, toward Abby's lab.
It's swathed in decorations, and has been for a few weeks now. When he walks in, she's playing Christmas carols and darting around the place in a red mini-dress, knee-high white socks and red shoes with a thick-wedged heel. She doesn't seem to be focused on any one task in particular, and after a few seconds she glances up and notices him.
"Hey, Gibbs!"
The sight of her has lifted his mood, and he takes her arm, dragging her across to her mistletoe and kissing her deeply. Once she gets over the initial disorientation, she melts into his arms, letting him take control.
Pulling back, he tilts up her chin with a finger. "It's 'sir' now, little tease. Holidays have started."
Breathless and smiling, she nods. "Sorry, sir…"
Inclining his head toward the door, he asks, "You ready to go?"
In response, she heads over to her mass spectrometer and flicks a switch. The power displays fade out, and she pats the top of the unit affectionately. "Merry Christmas, Major – see you in a few days…"
Shaking his had at her eccentricity, Gibbs waits for her to shut down the other machines and grab her gear.
The entire way home, Abby exudes a bubbling undercurrent of excitement, but Gibbs discounts it as her usual enthusiasm over Christmas. Though he hasn't been in the holiday spirit since the deaths of his first wife and daughter, with Abby it's impossible to let the Christmas period go unacknowledged.
Once they get through his front door, Abby drops to her knees gracefully, her hands behind her back. Surprised – she usually waits until their first cup of coffee to settle down like this – Gibbs says, "Out with it, little tease…"
She looks up, her lips curving up in a suggestive smile. "Permission to give you one of your Christmas gifts, sir?"
"Christmas is tomorrow," he points out, unwilling to 'celebrate' until absolutely necessary.
Abby pouts a little. "But, sir… It's our first Christmas together… and this one won't keep. Please?"
He relents with a nod, and she gets to her feet with one of her characteristic surges of energy. "Thank you, sir!" she says, throwing her arms around his neck. When she steps back, she tells him, "Now make some coffee and go play in the basement for a while."
Gibbs raises a warning eyebrow, and she lowers her eyes sheepishly. "I mean… would you mind? Sir?"
He's feeling tolerant today, and if he's honest he's a little intrigued. "Watch your step, little tease," he says sternly, letting her off with a slight reprimand, and then heads into the kitchen to do what she's asked.
Abby runs upstairs in a whirlwind of vivacity, and Gibbs makes his coffee and descends into the basement. The boat's coming along, but it's far from finished, and he sets to work after the first swallow of the bitter liquid. Time passes, until finally Abby calls from the kitchen, "It's ready, sir!"
He waits a couple of minutes before heading up there, his curiosity tempered by the need to remind her that he won't be pushed around. When he finally heads up into the kitchen, Abby's nowhere in sight.
She hears his footsteps, and her voice floats down the stairs, cluing him in as to her location. He follows it, up to the first floor and through the door to his bedroom.
The sight that meets his eyes halts him in his tracks, and he takes his time absorbing the scene. Abby stands beside the bed, her hair loose and artistically styled to fall around her shoulders. Her make-up is dark and dramatic, offsetting green eyes that shine with mischievous expectancy.
Gibbs' eyes travel down her body, taking in the deep maroon bustier that accentuates the curve of her breasts, the lace panties to match, and the four-inch maroon stilettos strapped to her feet. And adorning her long, shapely legs are a pair of sheer stockings to match the rest of her outfit, the tops of them threaded with ribbons and lace.
Her one concession to the holiday season is the Santa hat sitting atop her head, but it's so dark that it's almost burgundy, and the fur trim is black, not white.
She's a Gothic beauty, and he's rarely wanted her as much as he does right now. The pet name little tease has never before seemed so apt.
"Merry Christmas, sir," Abby murmurs, watching him from beneath dark lashes, awaiting the verdict.
He takes a few steps forward, until he's only a pace away from her. She's taken a shower, and he inhales the scent of her: strawberries and vanilla, so different to her usual gunpowder perfume. In the heels, she's an inch or so taller than him, and he looks up at her with a slight smile.
"We both know you can't walk in those heels, little tease. Take them off."
Abby grins. "Yes, sir." Setting one of her feet behind her, she turns a little more than ninety degrees as she bends at the waist, revealing that the panties are actually a thong. Her hands at the buckle of one of the ridiculously high stilettos, she gazes over her shoulder at him, the move sending her Santa hat tumbling to the ground. Neither of them bother to pick it up.
Admiring the alluring curve of her thighs and the toned ass that's just begging to be spanked, Gibbs changes his mind. "On second thoughts…" He slaps her ass sharply, and she gasps, still smiling. "You won't be on your feet for much longer. Leave the shoes and stockings, little tease. Let me help you with the rest."
Abby straightens carefully, and he steps in close, pulling her body against his and letting her feel how much he's going to enjoy unwrapping this particular present. Maybe he could learn to tolerate Christmas, after all.