A/N: And now we have reached the end of my Help Haiti ficlets. The prompt on this one was Abby, Tim and "you got it." Me being me, the first thing I thought of was the Roy Orbison song. In consequence, this turned into a mushy romance. Notice how much shorter it is than most of my ficlets.
Disclaimer: Not mine! Not mine! I don't own NCIS nor do I make money off my stories. Too bad.
You Got It
by Enthusiastic Fish
Tim's phone rang. He suppressed a smile and picked it up.
"You got it." Click.
Tim laughed and then quickly turned it into a cough.
"What's up, Probie?" Tony asked.
"Nothing. Wrong number," Tim said. "I've been getting a few of them the last few days."
"Maybe you should change your number."
"Maybe."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Abby was processing a DNA sample for Gibbs, hoping that it would get done quickly. She liked her job, but she did occasionally long for the more exciting aspects. DNA was easy.
Her phone rang. She twirled around in delight and picked it up.
"You got it." Click.
She laughed, leaned over and cranked her music up even higher than it usually was.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
There was a messy crime scene, requiring a lot of time out in the field, processing, canvassing, interviews. Tim was tired and muddy when he got back to the car. He had a message. Looking around to make sure no one was there. He was alone.
He accessed his voice mail.
"You got. it."
He smiled. There wasn't time to call back. He typed out a text message and sent it off.
Then, he got back to work.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"Okay, Agent Lovitz. Here's what your results are," Abby said. "The three partials could belong to..."
Her phone signaled an incoming text message.
Agent Lovitz smiled. "I've always liked that tune. Seems a little tame for you, Abby."
Abby grinned without answering him and grabbed her phone to see what the message was.
You got it.
"Okay, so here's the list of possibles..."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
It was a late night. Tim was tired, feeling draggy. Tony and Ziva were actually still at the crime scene while he was at his desk, trying to trace one of their suspects through his cell phone usage.
He sighed and sat back. It was taking forever and he was making so little progress. He really wanted to figure out where the guy was before Tony and Ziva returned, before Gibbs came and demanded a report.
An email popped up. He smiled and clicked on it.
You got it.
His tiredness seemed to ease and he got back to work, determined to find that necessary link.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Abby had wanted to hang around, but she had commitments after work already. The nuns were doing a fundraiser and she had promised to come and help out if she had the time...which she did. At least she could walk through the bullpen on her way out.
Tim was sitting at his computer, working hard...as usual. Abby decided not to distract him. As she passed his desk, he cleared his throat but didn't look up either.
Abby looked and there on the edge of the desk was an envelope with her name on it. She picked it up and kept walking.
She didn't open it until she got out to her car.
In capital letters, she read three words.
YOU GOT IT.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
The big break didn't come until Tony and Ziva arrived with another cell phone, one used by the victim. They'd found it sunk into the mud at the field. The SIM card was thankfully still salvageable. Tim searched through it, found the same phone number he'd found on another phone.
"It's Daniels!" he said in triumph.
Gibbs nodded and they headed out to pick him up.
As they rode (Gibbs was driving), Tim put his hand in his pocket and felt the note Abby had somehow left on his desk as she left. He didn't need to read it. He knew what it said.
You got it.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Abby ran frantically through the hospital. It was three in the morning. The arrest had gone bad. She had been waiting for him. There had been nothing and it had made her worry.
Then, her phone had rung...but it wasn't what she had expected. It wasn't the three words she had wanted to hear. It was Gibbs.
"Tim's been shot."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"Every time I look into your loving eyes..."
Abby sat beside Tim, brushing back his hair off his forehead...unnecessarily, but she did it.
"Anything you want..."
"You got it," she whispered.
"Anything you need..."
"You got it."
"Anything at all..."
"You got it."
She took his hand...his left hand in her left hand, rubbing the rings together. The familiar clicking was comforting to her.
"You're all I want, Tim."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"You got it."
Abby stirred. She'd been asleep, her head resting on his shoulder.
"Tim?" she murmured.
"You got it."
She sat up, still holding his hand, a small smile on her lips.
Tim's eyes fluttered open briefly and his lips turned up in a brief smile.
"Tim!"
"You got it," he said softly.
She laughed and hugged him...gently.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
They sat together on the bed. Tim was home now, convalescing. He wasn't allowed to do anything strenuous. He just had to sit in bed and it was driving him crazy. Abby's presence helped him through the rough patches in his recovery.
"Tim?" Her head was resting on his shoulder. His head rested on hers.
"Yeah?"
"I think you're right."
"I know I am...but about what?"
Abby giggled. "That is the perfect song."
Tim laughed softly, being careful not to strain his injured abdomen.
"I told you. It has the perfect answer. Anything you want? You got it."
Abby snuggled closer to him. "Okay. You win. We'll dance to it at the reception."
"Are you sure?"
Abby sat up and kissed Tim firmly. "Anything you want...you got it."
"I have everything I want, Abbs."
"So do I."
They fell asleep together.
FINIS!