Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or anything associated with it. I just like messing with the characters.

Summary: McGee's in the hospital. Abby's worried. Gibbs decides to take her mind off it. Gabby smut. M for mature content.

Slight spoilers for 'Hiatus part 1' and 'Hiatus part 2'. This was inspired by a scene from my as yet unfinished and not posted NaNoWriMo novel - Infinity (A Tony/Ziva love story) - although McGee is not the reason for them being in the hospital at that point!

Hospitals

McGee wasn't sick, Gibbs had told her. But if he was in the hospital and he wasn't sick, he must be hurt. How badly did you have to be hurt to go to the hospital?

The nurses had told Abby she couldn't see McGee yet. He would still be too groggy from the painkillers, they said. Instead, she was sat in the waiting room with Gibbs, who had long since sent Tony and Ziva home. He didn't seem worried at all.

Not like her. Abby might not love McGee the way she once had anymore - that honour was reserved for another Special Agent - but he would always hold a special place in her heart. All she could think about was the last time she'd been in a hospital, when it had been Gibbs they had been worrying about.

And think what had happened then. He'd forgotten them, upped and run off to Mexico without a second glance. He'd broken her heart.

'How are you not worried?' she said suddenly, looking daggers at Gibbs. He raised an eyebrow.

'It wasn't much more than a scratch, Abs,' Gibbs replied. 'He's had worse.'

'But he's still in the hospital,' Abby said, emphatically.

'Only for observation. They think he might have a concussion,' he lied. McGee had been standing just too close to the damn bomb. Flying shrapnel had torn into his arm, leaving a ragged, bleeding wound that would have required more than a few stitches. Not to mention the various cuts and bruises - most of which were little more than a scratch - that covered the rest of his body.

Abby glared at him. She knew him well enough to know when he was lying.

'So why can't I see him?' she challenged.

'He's probably still out of it on pain meds. You'd have to take it up with the nurses,' Gibbs said, knowing she wouldn't. Not yet, anyway.

'I need caffeine,' she said hoarsely, standing up. There was a coffee machine round the corner. There wouldn't be any Caf-Pow but coffee would do, for now. Gibbs acknowledged her wish with a quick nod of the head, but made no move to join her. Good, she thought. She needed a moment to herself.

The machine was broken. There was a great big 'Out of Order' sign taped to it. She groaned softly, wringing her hands. She really could've done with a caffeine hit right about now.

She heard quiet footsteps behind her but she didn't turn, not really caring who it was who saw her kick the coffee machine angrily. She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt hands on her hips, warm breath on her shoulder.

His lips were soft on the back of her neck.

'Gibbs!' She exclaimed softly. It was a public place. Nobody was supposed to know about them yet, and here he was, holding her close and kissing her intimately where anyone could see.

'Shush,' he replied, equally quietly. His hands rested on her hips, his thumb digging slightly into the waistband of her skirt as his lips moved up her neck. His tongue tickled the spot just below her ear and she arced against him, pressing her hips against his.

'Hey Abs,' he murmured. 'You know what hospitals are full of?'

He loosened his grip enough for her to turn and face him. She kissed him softly, holding his mouth beneath hers a second longer than necessary.

'Sick people?' she suggested.

'Well, yeah. You know what else?' He tugged at a loose strand of her bangs, his smile devious.

'Go on, then,' she sighed. 'Tell me.'

His smile became a grin. He bent and captured her lips, holding her close. When he pulled away he held her gaze.

'Beds,' he whispered. 'Lots and lots of beds.'

She let her head fall back as his lips moved across her jaw and down her throat, his teeth grazing her soft flesh. She could feel him pressing against her, hard and hot and unyielding, and she pressed herself closer, feeling out his reaction.

'I don't think we're going to have time to find one,' she replied with a soft laugh. She pulled away from him and took his hand, leading him away down the corridor. There was a janitorial supply closet around the corner and it was the closest place she could think of.

They stumbled inside, locking the door behind them. He pressed her body against the smooth wood, his hand slipping up her skirt to find she was bare beneath it.

'Ms Sciuto,' he said, impressed. He ran a finger across the bare dampness of her slit, making her shiver. 'You're not wearing panties again.'

'Nuh-uh,' Abby replied, shaking her head and grinning devilishly.

'You do that far too often,' Gibbs chuckled.

'Only 'cause I know you like it.'

She fell silent, gasping as his finger touched her clit, circling it softly. Her hands reached for his belt buckle and she slipped it undone, unfastening his pants and sliding them down enough to reveal his boxers.

He let out a groan as she slipped her hand beneath the soft, worn cotton and stroked his shaft. Her touch burned like fire, tongues of flame licking their way inside him. He let his hands roam her body then grasped her roughly, pressing her body against the wall and kissing her lips. His tongue invaded her mouth, tracing her teeth, moving over and under her tongue, moving both with it and against it. One of his hands slid beneath her shirt, tracing the flat plane of her stomach as he lifted her body, letting her wrap her long, pale legs around his waist and hold him close.

She felt him at her entrance, so unbearably close to her. He moved a little closer, pushing inevitably into her. He stifled her moans with his lips, swallowing the sounds as he moved inside her. His thrusts became harder, faster, with each moment. She tangled her hands in his silver hair and tightened her legs around him. With every second they found themselves moving closer and closer to breaking point and when it hit it was like a thunderclap.

And then it was fireworks. Sparks and colours in all directions; the screaming, booming roar of rockets whizzing around them; Catherine wheels and sparklers leaving trails of light etched into their eyelids. He slumped against her, his body still pinning hers to the wall as he tried to catch his breath.

'God, Abby,' he gasped. 'I swear you'll be the death of me.'