I don't own, nor am I making any money off of the fic. Written a backup for the GAficathon over on Livejournal.
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Gibbs took half a step back as the steam coiled up from where he was draining the spaghetti; a quick glance at the clock told him that Abby would be arriving momentarily.

The salad was finished, and so was the tomato sauce. The homemade meatballs (his mother's recipe) needed a minute more, and the wine was chilling in the fridge. It wasn't a date, he reminded himself, but maybe, if things went really well…

Who was he trying to kid, it was Abby, things always went well. He usually fixed them both dinner at his place once a month. He tended to live off of fast food and coffee, and he was pretty sure she survived on little more than Caf-Pow when she was alone. A little real food would do them both good and he hoped that maybe if she noticed the extra effort…

Suddenly she was in the kitchen beside him. He wasn't surprised; she always managed to avoid each and every squeaky floor board.

"Mm, smells good. I'm starving!"

"Good, I made plenty." Gibbs nodded toward the fridge. "Grab the wine; the glasses are already on the table."

"I've been looking forward to this all day, you have no idea! See, I've got this crazy boss and a crazy team that feels the need to work at 110% all the time." Abby peeked around the refrigerator door with a grin. "But, that crazy boss of mine talked to his boss and was able to get us off rotation for the weekend for the first time in weeks!" She sniffed the air. "And it'll be nice to get some real food in my belly too!"

"You've got to take care of yourself, Abbs." Gibbs scolded lightly as she stepped past him with the wine. "You know you don't need to keep the same hours as the rest of us, once the evidence is processed you are free to go home. We'll call you if we need you. You know that."

"And leave you guys all alone? I don't think so, mister." Abby waved the cork screw at him and then put it to use.

Gibbs put the spaghetti back in the pot and then added the meatballs and the tomato sauce, sprinkling parmesan cheese over the top.

After pouring them each a generous glass of wine, Abby carried the salad bowl to the table as Gibbs carried out the spaghetti.

Pulling out her chair for her, Gibbs bit back the smirk at how genuinely happy she looked to be there with him - happy and relaxed. She looked tired, and it was true that they had been working weekend after weekend, so it gave him hope that she chose to spend her first free evening with him.

"Wow Gibbs, this all looks beautiful." Abby glanced around at the table setting. Gibbs had pulled out a tablecloth, there was a candle in the middle, all the little extra touches that made Abby smile and feel appreciated. "So, what made you-"

Suddenly, Gibbs' front door swung open and then shut with force, and they were both on their feet in an instant, Gibbs standing in front of Abby, using his body as a shield to protect her from the intruder.

"Probie?"

"Mike!"As soon as Mike Franks rounded the corner, he had an armful of Abby. "How are you!? What are you doing here" Suddenly her face turned serious and she pulled back enough to punch his shoulder. "And why haven't you e-mailed me?"

"Hey pretty lady," Mike grinned, first at her and then at a scowling Gibbs. "I've been busy lately, but I haven't forgotten about you."

Gibbs glared at Mike when his hold on Abby lasted just a little too long. "What are you doing here? Bars in Mexico run dry of tequila?"

Mike laughed; he could read the discomfort in Gibbs' eyes, even if it was hidden. "Nah. Buddy of mine is turning sixty. Sixty! Can you believe it? Good thing I'm far from being old." He sent a playful wink in Abby's direction. "Couldn't pass up the invitation. Stopped by NCIS first, was surprised to see you let your team have a weekend off. And leave before dinner time." He nodded to the set dining table. "Speaking of, am I interrupting something?"

"Yes-" He wasn't interrupting anything yet, but Gibbs had looked forward to some quiet time with Abby. She meant more to him than she would ever know, and even if the attraction he felt for her wasn't mutual, he could relax in her company and pretend, for a few hours, that they were together as more than just friends.

"No. Mike you should stay for dinner. He can stay, can't he?" Abby turned to look at Gibbs.

Gibbs looked at the table, set for two. "I don't know…"

"You said we had plenty of food, right? It will be fun."

Gibbs shrugged. Telling Abby 'no' wasn't in his vocabulary. "Stay for dinner."

"Generous of you Probie, I'd be glad to stay." Mike shrugged out of his jacket and went to toss it over the sofa as Abby went for a third plate and wine glass. Dinner was dominated by Abby asking question after question and Mike's stories of Amira. It was obvious to Gibbs at how satisfied Mike was with life in Mexico with his two girls, and he found himself relaxing and enjoying the stories of his goddaughter, a little girl he was so very fond of, even if it brought out the painful memories of his Kelly.

As the conversation slowed, and the food disappeared, Gibbs assumed that Mike would leave, giving him an hour or two alone with Abby as she had asked if she could help him with his newest boat. He had agreed, provided she stay relatively sober.

"If you want to drink," he had told her. "You'll keep your hands off the tools."

There was a slight flush to her cheeks as she had saluted him. "Yes, sir!"

Mike helped to clear the table, and put the leftovers away. Gibbs was certain he was about to excuse himself when Abby spoke. "Mike! You've got to see the new boat. She's a beauty."

"Another one, probie?"

"Come on." Abby tugged him toward the basement before Gibbs could respond. Gibbs followed them a few minutes later, his hopes of spending time alone with Abby quickly fading. She was circling the ribs of the boat, relaying everything he had told her about the wood and the frame to Mike.

Mike turned to him and ignored the glare as Gibbs poured himself some bourbon. "You don't offer to share? That's not like you."

Gibbs grunted and emptied a jar of nails, blowing the dust and debris from the inside before pouring a generous amount. This wasn't going as he had planned, but with Abby so happy to have Mike around, he couldn't exactly kick him out. "You want?"

Abby nodded and found what she liked to consider her glass on the shelf where he kept the bourbon. She had brought it down from the kitchen one of the first times she had stayed with him, and somehow it never made it back up to the kitchen – though it seemed to be clean every time she used it. She held it out, and Gibbs poured for her as well, though a little less than he had for Mike.

"How long are you staying?" Abby hopped up onto the work bench and took a sip.

"Just a few days. The party is tomorrow and then I thought I'd hang around for a day or two. I didn't expect you to be here tonight." Mike smiled at Abby. "Had to make sure there was time in my schedule to spend time with my favorite pretty lady."

"Aww, Mike!" Abby hopped down again to hug him. "You better promise to keep in contact better. Otherwise I'm going to fly down there one of these days and show up on your doorstep."

"No complaints from me."

Gibbs rolled his eyes at the flirtatious remarks and turned his attention to his boat. He only half listened to Abby and Mike chat, only really paying attention when Mike poured himself a second and third drink.

Although she sipped her drink slowly, the more she sipped, the closer she moved to Mike. Gibbs watched from the corner of his eye as she touched his arm as she told him story about a recent case, swatted at him when he made a joke at her expense, and hugged him when he complimented her.

He knew he shouldn't be pouting, he had no claim over her, though Mike was well aware that he considered her to be 'his'. He was just about to turn around and suggest that they call it a night when Mike announced his intention to leave.

Gibbs listened to the slight slur in his voice and knew his friends wouldn't be safe behind the wheel. "You'll sleep on my couch tonight."

Abby looked at her watch, it wasn't late, but Mike had had his fair share of drink. "Did you want me to leave too?"

There was a softness to her voice, and he paused before following Mike up the stairs to find him a pillow and blanket. "You don't have to leave; you know you can stay as long as you want."

She looked relieved and moved to sit back on his work bench while he went to get Mike set up.

Abby was sanding a small scrap of wood when Gibbs returned to the basement. She waited until he hit the bottom step before she spoke. "Is everything okay? You seemed really quiet. Well, quieter. You aren't exactly chatty on a normal day. Wait, is that why you invited me for dinner?" Abby jumped off the bench and rushed to him, gripping his shoulders tightly. "Something is wrong and you invited me over to tell me, that's it isn't it? Ohmygod, and then I invited Mike to stay and clearly you weren't a fan of the idea. I just figured that it was Mike and you're friends, but yet he irritates you at the same time. I'm so sorry. But I can take it, what is it? What's wrong?"

Gibbs tried not to smile, he didn't want her to think he was laughing at her, but he couldn't help it. "Nothing is wrong, Abby. I invited you over because I wanted to spend some time with you. That's it. Nothing bad, nothing scary. I'm okay."

"There is nothing… wrong?"

"Nope." Gibbs touched his fingers to her cheek and smiled. "Everything is good."

Abby relaxed into his gentle touch. Usually if he was stressed he didn't touch her and kept his distance. The contact was reassuring, though she still wasn't convinced. She watched as he moved back to the boat, picking up where he left off.

"Sounds like they've got a nice routine going down in Mexico? Would be nice to visit them some time, wouldn't it?" Abby frowned at the way Gibbs' shoulders tensed at the mention of visiting Mike.

"Uh huh."

"Gibbs?"

"Hmm?"

"What's bothering you?"

"Abby," Gibbs warned.

"What?!" She stepped up beside him, taking the sanding block from his hands. "You pretty much ignored everything Mike said tonight and I just mentioned him and you tense. Explain."

Gibbs looked at her with a raised brow, surprised she's go as far as taking the sanding block from his hands. "I just wasn't expecting him."

"He's your friend; I would think you'd be happy to see him. I mean, okay, he did ruin the boat you gave to Amira, but I thought you guys were past that."

"We are." Gibbs reached for the block, but Abby kept it just out of his reach. Their eyes locked, and Abby swore to herself that she wasn't going to lose this staring contest, but after a few beats of silence she found herself wavering and then gave up.

"Oh, for God sakes!" She gave an exasperated sigh and handed him the sanding block again. She turned to put her glass back on the shelf. "I guess I'll just see you-"

"I just thought it would be you and me tonight." Aw hell, I sound like a woman. Gibbs set the sanding block down and followed her toward the work bench.

"Me too." Abby turned to lean against the bench and look at him. "But then Mike showed up, and it's not like we see him that often, so he hung out with us for a bit. Now it's just you and me again, but it's not like it usually is because I can't even mention him or anything he's said because you get all irritated and tense. This isn't you," she waved her hand at him. "Not when it's you and me. This is you and the Director, or you with the FBI or CIA or whatever."

"Sorry."

"Where's my Gibbs?"

"I'm right here." He took half a step forward toward her.

"Are you sure? Because I'd like to spend some time with you, but if you're going to get all cranky because you had to share a few hours of Abby time with Mike, then I don't want to stay."

"M'sure." He cautiously reached out to loop his pointer finger around her pinky to pull her closer to him. "I don't like to share."

"Dinner and the three of us talking, well two of us talking and you pouting. I'd hardly call that sharing. It's not like we were cuddling or something." Abby leaned against him.

I don't know, there seemed to be a lot of contact. He thought it, but he couldn't bring himself to say it, though Abby must have read his mind.

"I save the cuddling for you."

"We don't cuddle, Abbs." Not that he didn't wish that they did...

"We could." Abby shrugged. "I mean, a girl like me needs her cuddles. I'm a very tactile person. I can't hold out and wait for you to make a move forever, you know."

"You… You want to cuddle with me?"

"Well, yeah. We're halfway there already, standing here with your arm around me. I guess I've been waiting since the minute I stepped in the door for you to make some sort of move. I guess it's not fair to expect you to make a move while Mike is here, so… my bad, but the table cloth, the candle… you put a lot of effort into tonight. I should've realized it earlier, but… it sort of all sort of came together in my mind just now. Wow, I should really stop talking before I get myself into trouble, shouldn't I?"

"No." Gibbs looked amused.

"No? I should keep talking? Wow, Gibbs. I think that's a first."

"No, you shouldn't stop talking to stay out of trouble, you should stop talking so I can kiss you," Gibbs said plainly.

"Oh. OH!" The realization of what he said hit Abby like a steam engine and she turned to face him completely, pressing her lips to his before he had the chance to make the first move. She couldn't believe that she had actually kissed him and pulled back with gasp. Ohmygod!

"Hey, I was going to kiss you." Gibbs nipped at her lower lip before kissing her again, this time tangling his hand in her hair to hold her steady. Their kiss was dirty and full of hunger for one another, and Abby wasn't sure she'd ever been kissed like that before. She tried to think, but as his tongue teased past her lips, she couldn't remember what she was trying to think of.

When air became a 'need' rather than just a 'want', Gibbs pulled back looked at Abby with a satisfied smirk. He expected her to smile back, so when she frowned he started to worry. She was quick, as her hand balled into a fist and she punched him in the chest.

"Ow, what was that for."

"For being jealous of Mike Franks!" Her frown morphed into a smile. "And for not doing that the minute I walked in the door today."

"Point taken. Come on, let's go upstairs. I'm done with the boat. I am not, however, done with you."

"Shh, but Mike?" Abby giggled quietly and allowed herself to be pulled toward the stairs.

"My house, my rules. I can be as loud as I want." Gibbs pulled her up the stairs quickly. He was taking her to his room, where he was pretty certain Mike wouldn't hear them, even if he did wake from his alcohol heavy sleep. But if he did wake, it was Gibbs' house and Gibbs' rules.