From the author's desk: So this is the first episode tag I've ever written, and while I've had other tag bunnies, this is the first one that I felt I just really needed to write. Inspired by Episode 8.06 – "Cracked". Abby's behavior towards Lieutenant Thorson, her saying that the victim was a "kindred spirit", really resonated with me, and made me wonder if there was something more to it than Abby's just being a scientist.

I'm a little iffy about Abby's portrayal. I always seem to have a hard time writing her.

And the title. I'm not sure it fits.

I hope you enjoy it! Please feel free to leave me comments and concrit. I'm always happy to have your feedback on how I'm doing!

Disclaimer: NCIS and it's characters belong to Donald P. Bellisario and his associates. This was written for simply for non-profitable entertainment purposes.

The Demon in Her Mind
by dreamsweetmydear

It feels good to be home after the case from the last couple days, Tim decides. The case of Clea Thorson was, for lack of a better description, puzzling for him, not only because of Thorson's code—parts of which made sense with his educational background, but most of which felt like a foreign language to him—but also partly because of Abby's behavior.

He'd seen her, on several occasions, become fixated by a case, but it was never this intensely. He could understand that Abby felt connected to this woman for whatever reason (Tim would bet money that it wasn't just because of the science), but he was also just a little scared for Abby with how…obsessed she had become with understanding Clea Thorson.

So after the whirlwind of the last couple days, he is happy to be home just spending time with his dog on the Friday before Halloween. He already knows that the college kids in the area are bound to be doing crazy things, and he is happy to stay well away from them.

He's chosen to spend the evening enjoying some leftovers and one of the Star Wars movies—maybe he'd just start from the beginning at A New Hope—and has just put some of his asparagus chicken and rice casserole in the microwave when he hears someone buzzing him from downstairs. Pushing the intercom button by the door, he answers with a confused "Hello?", considering he isn't expecting anyone to come calling tonight.

"Timmy, it's me. Can I come up?"

"Abs?" What is Abby doing here? Tim shakes his head. He's sure to find out soon enough. "Sure, let me let you in."

He pushes the little red button next to the intercom key, and hears a loud beep before the intercom line disconnects.

By the time his food is out of the microwave, he can hear the knocking on his door and Jethro pawing at it.

"Down, boy. You know you're not supposed to do that," Tim gently scolds his pet, knowing what a pain it is to hide the slight scratches of doggie paws in the wood of the door from when he moved from Silver Spring.

He opens the door, and lets Abby in, not sure why she's here, but happy to see her back to her old self just the same.

"Do you want some dinner? I was heating up some leftovers for myself, and I can make you another bowl," he offers as she comes in, and bends down to greet Jethro before turning back to him.

"That sounds nice, thanks. Gibbs and I didn't end up eating," Abby explains as she follows him back to the kitchen. "Leftovers of what, by the way?"

"Asparagus chicken and rice casserole," he tells her proudly, knowing that she loves this particular dish of his.

"Oooh, yum. I can't even remember the last time you let me have some of that stuff," she says, and hoists herself onto the counter opposite where he's putting food into a bowl and placing it into the microwave to heat.

"So what's up?" he asks. "I thought you'd be out doing something fun on a Friday night."

"Can't I just come by to see my best friend?" she asks, and Tim glances back at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Sure, but I know you better than you're giving me credit for. You should be out at a killer Halloween party, in an awesome costume, enjoying your favorite holiday of the year," he tells her with a lopsided grin while he sets the timer on the microwave. "Instead, you're at my apartment, still in your clothes from work. And you just finished hanging out with Gibbs. So. What's up?"

"You know, Christmas is also my favorite holiday," she says, and sticks her tongue out at him.

"You're stalling," he tosses back at her as the microwave beeps, and reaches for the bowl inside, only to realize he overheated it and the melmoware is too hot to touch. Sucking his smarting fingertips for a few seconds, he turns to the fridge to pull out some sodas for the two of them to drink.

Abby's silence catches his attention, and he looks back at her to see her sitting on his countertop, head bowed and dark lips pursed and eyebrows scrunched in a look of uncertainty.

Reaching for the bowl again, he turns back to Abby and hands it and one of the soda cans to her. After grabbing he own dinner, he and Abby make their way into his living room and on to his couch, where they begin to eat in silence.

She, like him, will only speak when she's ready.

In the meantime, Tim decides he's going to enjoy his casserole.

The silence persists for a few moments, and when it finally begins to feel like too much, Abby speaks again.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," she says, and Tim looks at her while slowly chewing a piece of chicken before swallowing.

"For what?" He's starting to wonder if this is a night of surprises. And as far as he can tell, he doesn't need an apology from her.

"Well, I was kind of rude to you the last couple of days, and then I dragged you all around town. And then I totally ditched you and got mad at you because you didn't want to be dragged around anymore, and I kind of forgot that this stuff that we were dealing with is something you would probably understand because of your degree from Johns Hopkins." At this point, she's gotten up from the couch and is pacing back and forth in front of him. Tim puts his food down on the side table and stands up to try and intercept her.

"Not to mention, you tried to pay me a compliment and I totally bit your head off, but out of everyone, you were the closest to actually understanding—well, more like trying to, actually—what I was doing. Except for Gibbs, but that's because Gibbs knows everything. Well, except science and technology and all that, but he doesn't need to understand that, because he's Gibbs—"

"Abby, stop." Gently, Tim takes a hold of her arms, and brings Abby to a stop in front of him. Slowly she looks up at him, dark green eyes meeting his lighter jade green ones.

He's concerned when he sees something he can't name hiding there.

"Abs, while I accept your apology, I don't really know why you're apologizing. I mean, yeah, you were snippier with us than you usually are, and you weren't acting like yourself. But I've seen you when you get into something and don't know how to let it go, when you sit there and think about something and it's the only thing you're thinking about. That's just the way you are. That's just you being…Abby." Tim pauses to study his friend, noting that she doesn't look any less perturbed than before.

"But…you already know all that." He pauses. "You know I don't hold anything against you and how you were acting the last few days. You know that I know that you can make decisions for yourself, and you'll do whatever it is you think you need to do. So…" Tim looks at his friend, worried now.

"What's really going on, Abs? What aren't you telling me?"

He can hear it when she swallows, sees it when she bites her lip, and it's like she's crumblilng under a weight he doesn't understand when she sighs.

"I…was like her once," Abby murmurs, and turns away from him, and sits back down on the couch. "I don't think I was ever quite as bad as she was, but I remember when I was younger how obsessive I could be about things. I had all these little tics—I wrote a lot of things in my own code. I had a pattern for doing certain things like eating my dinner, or how I brushed my hair—hell, even how many minutes I could spend working on one assignment. Everything had to be done a certain way. I used to go crazy when things didn't go according to my routines and patterns. It made me feel really…off, you know?"

Tim, having retaken his seat next to her on the couch, listens quietly, and nods.

"In some ways, I'm still like that…like her. I still like to do things a certain way, I still like routines and patterns and sequences. There's a kind of security in them for me."

"But you're the most spontaneous person I know," Tim tells her, a little thrown by this sudden confession.

"That's just it though. I remember boxing myself into my routines and my patterns that it was actually kind of unhealthy. I had help, and I managed to train myself to keep from boxing myself into things. The funny thing is that I've gotten so used to making sure I don't get stuck in a routine or a pattern like the ones Lieutenant Thorson followed, that I've created a pattern of spontaneity that I feel compelled to follow. I've hit a point where I need to start keeping myself from being too off the wall." Abby looks back at him then. "Crazy, huh?"

Tim looks back at his friend, feeling like he suddenly understands something that has eluded him for years. She is someone who must constantly maintain order by living in chaos. Still, knowing what he does now, and knowing Abby for as long as he has known her, this really changes nothing for him.

"You're still the same person to me, Abs."

"So I'm not some sort of weirdo to you?" Abby asks, voice a little strained, the only indication that she's feeling a little emotionally spent.

Tim grins at her, and wraps an arm around her shoulders, bringing her close to him in a one-armed embrace. "No, you're always going to be weird. Just like you're always going to do things in certain ways. Just like I'm always going to do things in certain ways." He drops a reassuring kiss to her temple, and he can feel her relaxing against him. "Lieutenant Thorson lived her life in patterns, it's true. But so does everyone else. The difference is that some people just have more pronounced patterns than others. That's all. That doesn't make you crazy or anything. There's nothing wrong with doing things differently or thinking of things differently. As long as you don't let those patterns rule you. And I don't think you let your patterns rule you, Abby, so I think you're just fine the way you are."

He feels her arm snake around his waist and her head snuggle a little more into him. "Thanks Tim."

They sit like that for a few more minutes before Abby pulls away from him and reaches for her serving of casserole again. "Aw, it's gone cold. I'm going to reheat mine." He watches her stand with her bowl, and turn back to him as she prepares to leave for the kitchen. "Do you want me to reheat yours?"

Tim looks at his bowl, and sees there's not too much left. "No, that's okay. I'll just finish this the way it is."

As he goes back to his dinner, he watches through the breakfast buffet that separates kitchen from living room as Abby reheats her supper. He can hear her humming softly, and notices just how relaxed she is now.

It's good to see her simply being quirky, crazy, wonderful Abby, he decides. He wouldn't want her any other way.

-END-