AN:I don't own either Abby or McGee, but life would be a lot more fun if I did. Lucky Don Bellasario.

I watched Bloodbath again, and just decided that I needed to throw in my own take on McGee and Abby's night together. I know it's been done before, but the fic wasn't letting up until I wrote it.

The title is a lyric in the song Closer by Joshua Radin. I highly recommend it. On to the McAbby...

Abby was only hearing one side of McGee's conversation with Gibbs, and she knew the boss man was pissed.

"Boss, she opened the door though"

"Yes, I know she wasn't supposed to be alone but"

"You're right, I shouldn't have left her…"

"I told her specifically before I left not to…"

"No, I had my gun on me…"

"Yes, she was unarmed, although she tried to use my antique typewriter as a weapon"

"No, it's not the point."

"Yes, I know I left her, but Abby can fend for herself."

"She nearly killed me with the top of my toilet tank!"

"I already called metro and they're patrolling the area"

"Morrison and Davis are both outside right now, they're remaining there all night."

"Hold on…"

And there it was. Her cue. McGee appeared seconds later, his hand cupped over the mouthpiece of the phone. He looked like he had just taken a beating, and considering the fact that it had only been a phone conversation, she knew that Gibbs wasn't going to be happy.

McGee stood idly by, choosing to ignore the remains of his typewriter and instead listened to Abby's conversation with a very irate Gibbs.

"Hi Gibbs, how ya.."

"Gibbs I'm sorry."

"I know I should have listened to him, but…"

"It wasn't entirely McGee's fault…"

At that McGee perked up. 'Wasn't entirely McGee's fault?' Had she really just said that? Did he honestly just hear those words come out of her mouth? If anything, the fault was her own. First her stupid toothbrush. And then her inability to follow the simplest of instructions. She was seriously on the phone with Gibbs attempting to defend herself by throwing him under the bus. He was livid. And when he was livid, he could easily calm himself down by free writing. But again, thanks to Abby, he couldn't do that either. So instead, he fumed quietly as he double-checked the lock on the door. And the windows. And by the time she got off the phone with Gibbs, he could only utter one word when she started speaking.

"Bed."

"Gibbs told me to remind you to…"

"Bed."

"To do a com check with Morrison and…"

"Bed, NOW Abby."

It was all he could say. He couldn't think to ask her how she was doing, and it was partially because he didn't want to know. Gibbs had been right. He'd failed her. If he hadn't shown up when he had…he didn't want to think about what Mawher could have done. His alibi for the bloodbath had cleared but the investigation was only just beginning. McGee had seen the website, having looked it up while Ziva, Tony and Gibbs had gone to visit the sick bastard. It was beyond disturbing, it was nauseating and McGee had secretly hoped that Gibbs would bring Mawher in…to autopsy. And it was his own fault that Mawher had gotten so close. His own fault that the bastard had put the fear in her eyes, fear that she was refusing to let shine through. So instead of comforting Abby, who was clearly pretending to not be absolutely terrified, he simply stood in the middle of his living room with a steely gaze trained on her.

She didn't feel like a huge argument, but she started one when she turned on her heel and spat back, "I'm not a child, McGee."

Maybe it was the fact that he was mad at himself. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn't let out his pent up frustration due to a now severely damaged typewriter. Maybe it was the fact that his quiet Tuesday night had just been turned completely upside down by an unexpected house guest, an unexpected home invasion and an unexpected reaming from Gibbs. Maybe it was a combination of everything that made him blow up at her.

"You know what, you're right. You're not a child. Because even a child knows how to follow the simplest of instructions, like, oh I don't know, don't open the door! But you couldn't even handle that one could you?"

He had followed her into the bedroom and was now standing next to the bed. She didn't even have a chance to rebuke, before his scathing speech continued.

"So let me explain to you, in the simplest terms possible, what you are going to do. You are going to get into this bed, and lie down. And then, you are going to sleep. Do you think you can handle that one, Abs?" he asked, pulling back the comforter and sheets on her side of the bed.

"You know McGee, sometimes you can be a real ass…"

Her response, while well warranted and completely deserved was cut off by the ringing of McGee's cell phone. His eyes didn't leave hers as he picked it up.

Abby climbed into the bed, rolled onto her side and listened as McGee received a sit rep from Agent Morrison. She listened as he gave clear instructions regarding the agents watch post outside his apartment building. He clicked the phone closed when he was finished, grabbed something off of a pile of freshly cleaned clothes in a laundry basket and walked in the bathroom. He was tempted to leave the door open, but knowing he would only be a minute, he closed it and when he emerged his bedroom was dark.

He made his way to his side of the bed, noticing that Abby's back was to him and as he sunk into the soft linens that usually provided him with glorious comfort after a long day, he was met with her harsh tone.

"Thought you were taking the sleeping bag."

He knew she couldn't see the dirty look that he was giving her, just as he hadn't been able to see the smug look that had accompanied her previous statement. So he replied with an equally harsh tone.

"Well, considering that Gibbs'll probably kill me tomorrow, I think I'd like to actually enjoy one last night's rest in my own bed. That alright with you?"

"Fine," she replied curtly.

"Fine," he replied to her reply.

He rolled over, so that his back was to hers and closed his eyes. It had been an exhausting day, and a horribly bad one to boot but the sooner he slept, the sooner it would be over. So he exhaled deeply and prepared to let the unconsciousness take over.

And then he felt her roll over. And shortly after that, she tossed again. And then she pulled the blankets towards her. And then she kicked them off. And then she fluffed her pillows and slammed her head down against them. And then she rolled over again.

And then, McGee had had it.

"Problem, Abs?" he asked sarcastically, not moving from his position.

"Just trying to get comfortable McGee," she responded flatly.

"Well, maybe if you stayed still for longer than five seconds at a time, you might be able to," he said, sighing. Even though he hadn't looked at her, he'd felt the mattress shift. He could tell she was now sitting up and he could feel her death glare boring through him.

"Well, maybe if I wasn't choking to death on the smell of J-Lo glow, I would be able to stay still for longer than five seconds."

"Oh that's it," he muttered as he reached for the light. He flicked it on, sat up and turned to meet her. Death glare, exactly as he'd surmised, but she wasn't expecting what came next. In one fell swoop, McGee reached up and pulled the shirt off of her shoulders. He quickly pulled it free of her arms in the seconds that followed and tossed it clear across the room.

"There," he said, staring at her. "Problem solved. Now go to sleep."

He turned and shut the light and returned to his original position. He sighed deeply as he stared off into the darkness. He hadn't intended on being that forceful, even though he knew that if the circumstances had been different, Abby would have loved the way he had just taken charge. But the circumstances weren't different. Abby was there, in his bed because someone was after her. Someone who he'd failed to protect her from earlier.

He replayed his last actions in his head. He'd heard her inhale sharply when he first pulled the shirt down, and he'd unintentionally looked at her while he was doing it. And in her eyes, he'd seen fear. He himself, Timothy McGee, had frightened her. He was supposed to be her protector and now she was probably terrified of him, too. Gibbs really was going to kill him and he'd be the first to admit, he deserved it.