This is a little story I wrote for iheartGibbs last Christmas and only recently remembered that I never posted it anywhere. McAbby: bigtime and a little glimpse of what scientific women turn into when we are desperate.
Non-immaculate conception - a Christmas tale
"Are you sure this is OK?"
"Of course it's OK. It's my Christmas present to myself."
"But…"
"I need you for this."
"What's that smell?"
"That's fertility rose – it purifies my uterus and restores hormonal balance."
"Of course," McGee sighed. "Are you really ready for this?"
"Of course I'm ready, McGee. My basal temperature is due to rise and my Maybe Baby saliva fertility detector is just changing from spots to a structured pattern: a few more days and I'll have more ferns on it than the Amazon rain forest. I've swapped Caf-Pows for folic acid, avoided Listeria-laden cheese and force fed myself red clover blossom, licorice and wild yam to promote fertility."
"I sort of meant ready time wise."
"This is the optimal time to maximize my conception probabilities. According to my calculations, my body should be releasing an egg sometime over the next few days. We have to do this approximately every two to three days until I'm sure ovulation is over. The closer your sperm arrive to ovulation, the higher the chance of a boy but if they are left hanging around waiting for an egg, it's more likely to be a girl. That's because the male sperm go hard and die off early and the female ones are 'slow and steady' but last longer. Oh course if I was really interested in gender selection, I could douche to adjust the PH of my genital tract: vinegar for girls, baking soda for boys. But I'm not, I just don't care: whatever comes out is fine by me."
McGee swallowed hard, trying to digest the facts and figures. As in everything, Abby had done her research. Looking at her face, she really did look committed, or at least as though she should be committed.
"Every two days?" he asked reluctantly.
Never in his wildest dreams had he entertained the thought that he would baulk at the chance of sex with Abby. Now it was demanded of him, it felt more like a chore.
"Until we're sure the egg has done its dash."
"So then, after that, can we go out to a movie or something and have absolutely no sex at all?"
Abby smiled. "That would be great!"
McGee shook his head in bewilderment. They were actually looking forward to a date with a guarantee of no copulation.
He lived to make Abby happy but creating another human life was just such a huge responsibility. On the other hand, if he died tomorrow, he would go in the knowledge that at least one thing in his life had been worthwhile: he had made a difference.
"McGee," Abby pleaded. "I'm not getting any younger; I have no realistic long term prospects. This may be my last chance. You're young and virile – I need your DNA."
"Is it better than Tony's DNA?"
"I want a kid who can quote me RAM capacities, not movie references."
Abby stood before him, excited, anxious, fragile and scared. The last time they had done this, she had been in complete control and he had been an excited puppy receiving a treat. This was completely different. They were no longer 'dating' but they had formed a solid, lifelong bond. More importantly, they were now equals. Ultimately, wasn't that what he wanted: to create a new life with his soul mate?
Abby licked her lips nervously, waiting for affirmation.
He smiled down at her gently, cupped her shoulders in both hands and caressed her lips with a kiss.
Abby blushed shyly and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. McGee found her timid silence endearing: so unlike her usual exuberant self. She seemed to appreciate the enormity of the responsibility she was hoping to accept.
He matched her tempo, slowly peeling the clothing from her long, lean body. Kissing her softly to put her in the mood and remind them both why they were there.
Then she lay down on the bed, taking him with her and they kissed again. Slowly at first and then with increasing passion until the moment seemed right.
"Ah, is there like a best position for this?" McGee inquired tentatively, stroking down her smooth arm.
"Well, traditionally missionary position is supposed be the best but there is actually no scientific proof that one position is better than another."
"So…do you have a preference?"
"There are a lot of missionaries in the world, McGee."
"What?"
"Come here."
Abby lay panting and smiling. "Pass me your pillow."
"My what?"
"Pillow."
"OK," McGee said slowly, handing over the requested item.
Abby lay on her back with the pillow under her buttocks, legs raised in the air.
"What are you doing?" McGee asked, propping himself up on one elbow to look at her.
"Giving your little guys all the time they need right up against the cervix," she answered.
"Is that really necessary?"
"It maximizes our chances. That's why I wanted to orgasm after you: it lets the tip of the cervix dip into the pool of sperm at the entrance over and over again."
McGee blanched. "That is way too much information."
"People building is an inexact science, McGee, but somehow it works. Sort of like quantum tunnelling – you can see the results but never quite believe it happened."
"Abby?"
"Too much information?"
"No. Merry Christmas." He leant over and brushed his lips over hers.
Three weeks later.
McGee groaned as the phone shrilled. A bleary check of the clock confirmed his suspicions – it was 3 am. Just once he wished the bad guys would form a union and keep reasonable working hours.
With a sigh, he hoisted the mouth piece from its cradle. "McGee."
"McGee it's the middle of the night and I had to pee."
"Oh, OK, is this some perfect time? I'll be right over."
"No! McGee, I've got two lines!"
"Wrinkles? Well, you're pushing 40, Abs."
Silence.
"McGee, I am so happy right now that I'm going to ignore that remark but I reserve the right to hit you later. I have two BLUE lines, McGee."
"What are you talking about?"
"McGee, we did it: I'm pregnant."
END
Author note:
Just before I get anymore questions on the ages (too late, I've had two more since I wrote this):
Make no mistake, Abby is older than McGee.
The conversation in Hiatus 2 went:
ABBY: Can you imagine how scary that would be to lose the last fifteen years of your life?
MCGEE: Oh, my God.
ABBY: What?
MCGEE: I'd still be in high school.
ABBY: Oh, yuck! Zits. Braces. Raging hormones.
MCGEE: Yeah. I used to walk around all day with my notebook in front of my….
ABBY: In front of your what, McGee?
MCGEE: The laundry room is off. It should actually be three point nine six two meters wide. Not two six.
ABBY: Better?
MCGEE: Yeah. It's got to be accurate.
ABBY: Absolutely. So was it one of those tiny spiral notebooks or one of those big three ring binder things, Timmy?
MCGEE: And where were you fifteen years ago, Abby?
ABBY: So where did you find Gibbs?
So McGee was in high school 15 years ago and from other things in Conspiracy Theory (he was a Junior at 18), he is about 30-32 at the end of season 5. Abby, on the other hand is MUCH older. She certainly was not in high school 15 years ago from Hiatus 2. She is Tony's contemporary - he's 36-39 at the end of Season 5 (he is 32 in Split Decision but in Bikini Wax he says he was Ohio State class of 1989).
We also know:
In Model Behaviour (S3) Abby says she has been considering novel ways to die for the last 25 years. She probably didn't start thinking about this from the moment she was born.
In About face (S5) Abby says she got her lip stuck in a vacuum cleaner display at age 22.
According to the CBS Abby Scuito profile (see my wiki), Abby was 'Late Twenties' on the 2nd of June 2004. That doesn't seem right because she would have been in high school 15 years before the end of season 3.
NCIS:LA Random on Purpose was called that for a reason.
I have a whole page on character ages on my wiki - see the link on my profile.
Yes, I put the 'geek' in my login name for a reason.