Title: Fortune Favours the Brave
Author: Jo. R
Rating: FR-15
Pairing: Abby/Gibbs
Spoilers: Hit & Run
Summary: Post-episode. Abby has something she wants to share with Gibbs.
Author's Note: Hi! *waves* I return! You can thank/blame the lovely ncislove for that because without her, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have written this. Blame RL, blame work and circumstance, blame my goal to finally get something original published (which, if anyone's interested, feel free to drop me a PM or email and I'll let you know the details since the novel is now available - meep!) – they've all contributed to my being away from fandom. I don't think I'll get back into the swing enough to write longer stories but hopefully you'll see one or two more shortish ficlets in the future.
She remembered everything about the first day they met. Vividly. The way she'd felt, the things she'd seen, the things she'd head, the things she'd done.
The fortune she'd given to Gibbs, hope rising in her chest when he'd accepted it.
That was the start of it, she knew. The beginning of the slow descent as she fell for the man who would become her silver haired fox, her boss, her friend.
Her family.
'Today's new friend is tomorrow's family.'
A simple sentiment. A true one. Just how true was something that she'd been unable to realise at the time, no matter how much she'd hoped for it.
Over ten years later, she couldn't imagine her life without Gibbs in it. Well, she could imagine it – she did most nights when the nightmares plagued her in place of the dreams she longed for. She just didn't want to think about it, didn't want to dwell on it.
Didn't want to believe it was possible.
That was something their jobs made difficult. Impossible, even.
Every day, something happened that made her thank her lucky stars that Gibbs and the other members of the team who had become her family were okay. Every day brought with it new risks and dangers and threats, enemies both visible and otherwise who could tear their close knit group apart and take them from her.
Every day was a risk, making it possible that the one before would be the last they got to spend together.
It was those thoughts that led Abby to Gibbs's home after leaving the Navy Yard, those thoughts that made her hesitate as she stood on the doorstep.
Should she...? Could she...?
Squaring her shoulders, she felt in the pocket of her coat with one hand, fingertips brushing the swatch of material she'd carried with her most of her adult life and the little slip of paper Gibbs had carried with him every day since their first meeting without her knowledge.
The two items, so small and worthless to anyone else, meant so much to her and Abby let herself reach for the door handle, letting herself in to the quiet house.
The sofa was empty, though the blanket neatly folded on its back told her Gibbs was still sleeping downstairs. She couldn't hear any sound from the kitchen so walked towards the door to the basement, her heart tripping in her chest as she heard the tell-tale sounds of the man himself at work on his new project.
It wasn't too late, she told herself. She could turn around, go home. Let the wounds of the past heal over, at least on the surface, and pretend she was happy with the way things were.
She'd almost perfected that mask, after all, no matter how much of a beating it had taken over the last few days. She could easily slip back into the role of over-enthusiastic, excitable Abby and pretend everything was okay.
She could, but she wasn't going to.
She took a deep breath to steel her nerves and summoned every ounce of her courage as she continued to move through the dimly lit house.
The steps leading down to the basement creaked under her feet, alerting him to her presence, but Gibbs didn't call out and neither did she.
He'd wait, she knew, let her take her time to say whatever it was that had brought her to his door. He'd offer words of comfort, reassurance if that was what he thought she needed but Abby couldn't help but wonder what his reaction would be when she told him why she was really there.
Without a word to the man watching her with curious eyes, she reached the bottom step and paused.
Green eyes locked with blue, trying to convey so much without saying a thing.
Failing to make him understand.
Her heart beat steadily in her chest and she swallowed nervously, pushing her doubts and anxieties as side as she reached into her pocket again and brought out the two items she'd carried with her from the Navy Yard to Gibbs house.
Still without speaking, she crossed the basement towards him, taking them out of her pocket. With a hand that trembled no matter how hard she tried to stop it, Abby held out both the fortune and the heart-shaped material for Gibbs to take.
For a long moment, Gibbs just stared at her outstretched hand.
The fortune, he could understand. She'd given it to him once before; it kind of made sense that she'd give it to him again after discovering how close he'd kept it over the years.
The heart-shaped material made him pause.
"Am I enough?" Her voice was quiet but sounded loud in the otherwise silent basement. Her eyes remained fixed on his, searching his face, though Gibbs wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for.
Whatever it was, he hoped she found it. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint her in any way.
"Thought we'd already had this conversation, Abs." He kept his voice light, gentle.
"No. That was a different conversation. This one..." Abby swallowed, her expression anxious. "This one's more important."
Sensing that it was true, he dropped his gaze once again to the items she held out for him. He took the fortune wordlessly, his fingers brushing against the small swatch of material that was the only thing remaining of the much loved bear she'd told him about.
He wondered if it meant anything that the material was in the shape of a heart, remembered his own words echoing her mother's about it being the most important part.
Wondered what it meant that she was holding it out for him to take.
"What are you asking me?" He has his suspicions, his hopes, but wanted to – no, needed to – check he wasn't wrong. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a precipice and one false step could send him tumbling over it.
"I'm asking if I'm enough." Her hand began to tremble more noticeably, as did her bottom lip. She took a deep breath as he watched her, her shoulders beginning to slump downwards as her eyes shone with emotion and, he suspected, tears. "I'm asking if I'm enough for you."
He could play it one of two ways. He could pretend he didn't understand the question, the meaning behind it, and reassure her that she was family.
Or.
Or he could take the question in the manner it was meant, listen to his gut answer it honestly and hope he wasn't misunderstanding the plea he could see in her face.
In the end, he went with his gut.
And his heart.
With a hand that was only kept steady by sheer force of will, Gibbs took the small pink heart out of her palm carefully, as though it might break apart at the slightest of touches. Feeling her eyes on him, he moved to the jacket he'd discarded earlier, took his wallet out of his pocket, and gently slid both the material and the fortune into the well-worn leather where the small slip of paper had lived for over a decade.
He turned back to face her when he heard the heavy exhalation, studying her in the shadowed basement as he waited until he was sure his voice would hold. "You're enough, Abby. You've always been enough. The real question is whether I'm enough for you."
She didn't answer with words; Abby was far more demonstrative than that. The smile that lit up her face was blinding but he only got to see it for a few seconds in the time it took for her to throw herself at him from across the room, her arms going around him as her lips found his.
He felt her heart pounding in her chest, noting distantly that it beat erratically but somehow still in time with his, and closed his eyes as he gave in to the feelings he'd spent years trying to fight and returned her ardent kiss with equal fervour.
"Today's new friend is tomorrow's family."
And family, to Abby and Gibbs, was everything.
End.