A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this isn't a "Vindicated" update, but this was so I could get out of my crusty writer's block. Grr. Started writing this late last night and thought I'd finish and put it out here tonight! (While watching the NCIS marathon on USA Network, huzzah.) Still working on the other story and working those trivia winners into the chapter ;) For now, enjoy some slightly fluffy, slightly cheesy Gabby-ness! (~Annie)


Abby Sciuto – Gothic Superhero…

Abby framed her thoughts in one of the paladian windows by the ceiling. She peered through the rectangle her fingers made. Yeah. I'm a total badass.

That she could agree with.

Abby Sciuto – Master of Evidence…

Abby lit up—frowned, made a face. Of course I should be the master of evidence—forensics owns all. She lowered her fingers and looked back at her computer.

Of course, sometimes her forensics skills didn't help her with a case. Tony was almost thrown behind bars because of her revealing work. And she tried her hardest to clear McGee, but the only thing she felt truly helped him was his overdue hug. Now, she was just thankful to have two-thirds of her Muskateers still with her little NCIS family.

But there was one "case" – the one manifest crime that never ceased to irk her. An unsolved case of sorts. When Abby thought she had it solved, she felt like a fool when something new arose, and her results were next to meaningless.

Abby Sciuto, Gothic Superhero, forensic specialist, and Virtuoso of Evidence (she finally decided) folded her arms. She gasped and looked over her shoulder, just to make sure.

"Gibbs." She glared at the vacant doorframe.

The elusive Leroy Jethro Gibbs—strong, handsome, quiet… He really was the first thing that popped into her head when she was thinking of a new name for that military dog. There was no fathomable way of reading the scant evidence that man left behind for her. Coming in close to the skin of her neck, feeling his every breath as he waited patiently through her (totally necessary) geek-speak. Abby couldn't understand why he stood so close, as if everyday, he would stand an inch closer until a piece of paper couldn't fit between them. Abby let that image sink deep into her brain…

Once he signed one his pet names (as she liked to think of them) on her cheek. It was another case, and she had performed another perfect-10 performance of forensics to seal the deal. Gibbs was so elated—he walked past her and brushed his signing hand right next to her smiling lips. "That's my girl…" his hand spoke to her. Reminiscing, Abby was smiling in almost the exact same way in her seat that moment.

But the evidence never added up.

It was like watching someone play with a light switch. The light flashed on, and Abby could already feel her strong, handsome silver-haired fox under her fingertips. Then Gibbs would slap the switch off, and he became the quiet Jethro. His breath on her skin, Gibbs never failed to give her a kiss for a job well done. It was the platonic pat on the shoulder which followed but a second after his lips pressed against her skin, that nagged her.

"O Jethro, Jethro. Wherefore art thou Jethro? " she mock-recited. Abby rested her head on her palm.

Their conversations were even worse. Sometimes she'd find her mouth running another marathon, and Gibbs would listen—actually listen. His eyes would widen in surprise at the shocking bits, and he would smile, or even laugh at the funny parts. It was one of their exchanges not too long ago that got Abby thinking.

They had gotten into the habit of lingering in the bullpen and talking after everyone else on the team left. Abby was in the middle of a little anecdote about bringing McGee to a Mindless Self Indulgence concert. The team's dark angel was pleased to see her boss especially amused by her story.

Caw! Caw!—Caw! Caw!

Gibbs glanced up at Abby, who was comfortably perched at the corner of his desk yet again. Abby blinked before realizing the crow-cawing was her doing. "Oh, I need to buy a new ringtone," Abby tisked.

Gibbs looked at her phone thoughtfully and grinned lopsidedly. "Shouldn't the cell phone have one already?"

"Shh! Hold up, Gibbs—you really need to get with the technology. McGee can fix that…huh." Abby perused her text message, tilting her head left and right in contemplation. She shook her head, and sped-texted her reply before slipping her decorated phone back into her purse.

"Who was that?" Gibbs questioned.

The tone in his voice made Abby hesitate. "McGee."

Gibbs whole body seemed to relax; she didn't even know he was (literally or not) sitting at the edge of his seat. He melted into his desk chair and grinned. "Oh," he said, almost nonchalantly.

Abby grinned back; a hypothesis was forming in her head, but she needed to test it. "He was asking me if I was free tonight," she said with mirroring indifference. "His girlfriend stood him up at this fancy restaurant."

Her sky-eyed gunny looked at her—Abby could have sworn there was something different in that Gibbs-stare. But out of Abby's blindspot, Gibbs chuckled and scooted closer to her side of the desk.

"You can't tell a single lie, Abbs." He laughed.

Abby flushed. She squinted at him. "He texts me, emails me, and calls me all the time." She closed in on him, copying his method of intimidation. His method seemed only to work with him, because she could feel her hands shake from the mere inches that separated their lips. "Don't tell me you weren't at least one iota jealous."

She watched the movement of his eyes and tried not to drown in them. Gibbs continued to stare into her own eyes, calm and emotionless. "I don't have to tell you then," he answered.

Abby screamed inside. She threw in another variable. "Did you know Tim and I were in a relationship?"

"Were?" Gibbs took away another half an inch from their lips.

"Yes," Abby said matter-of-factly. She hoped using his first name would trip something.

Gibbs finally noticed just how close they were and glanced downward and back up to her eyes. "No. But. Rule #12…"

Abby rolled her eyes and, reluctantly, pulled away. "Rule 12, Schmule 12, don't tell me that either."

"I won't."

Abby jumped off his desk and threw her purse on. "Goodbye, Gibbs." Her chunky boots drummed on the floor as she walked away.

"Abbs."

The girl spun around and put her hands on her hips. "What?"

Gibbs raised his brows for a second. His lopsided grin widened. "Tim?"

Abby still couldn't believe it. She thought she was hearing Tony ask her that. All of this after-analyzing of almost non-existent "evidence" was using up her brain cells. She needed a pick-me-up. And she knew exactly what that would involve—who that would involve. The moment she reached for an imaginary Caf-Pow, Abby felt a real one placed into her hand. Abby gasped.

"Jethro!" she exclaimed. She quickly regretted it. Jethro? What have you been smoking, Abby?

Gibbs looked at her. "Want me to call you Abigail while you're at it?"

"No…" she said in her matter-of-factly way, but her mouth naturally smiled anyway. "—Gibbs," she quickly added.

Gibbs smiled and started to leave.

"Wait! You're leaving?"

Her boss halted, like she had yanked his arm, and he turned around. "I see you're still busy with something," he observed.

Abby glimpsed back at her computer screen. "Oh yeah….that."

Gibbs walked up to her side. "Our government taxes are paying for your time on…" He tilted his head back and squinted. "An internet face book?"

"Facebook," Abby laughed. "I've been trying to come up with a caption for…"

They both looked at a photo of Abby in her labcoat and a dollar-store black cape and mask around her neck. Tony and McGee, wearing identical silly faces, were at her sides, all three of them in a freeze-frame jump.

"…this masterpiece," Abby remarked.

Gibbs craned closer to the screen, his grinning lips just inches away from her once again. "I liked your Marilyn costume," Gibbs said. "With your blonde hair."

Abby felt her cheeks flush again. "Oh, well, thanks…" she tried her hardest not to stammer. "Last year I didn't really have a costume, and Tony, McGee and I were just messing around in my lab—"

She had a feeling Gibbs knew what she meant, but she still discovered his blue eyes resting on her green ones.

"What?" Abby had to ask.

"I'm listening, Abbs." He sat back on the edge of her computer desk and simpered. "Keep going."

Abby beamed. "Well!" She went on about their makeshift Halloween party in the lab. She slid down the desk in her rolling chair to check an update on another computer screen while she talked. "And Ziva came in here and was all like, 'What is Tony doing with McGee's—?!'"

She pushed herself from the desk to slide right on back to Gibbs; instead she collided right into his simpering lips.

"Mmm—" Abby froze completely. Her heart was in her throat, behind her paralyzed lips. From her conclusions, Abby had an idea as to what Gibbs would do next.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

His fingers came up to her chin and kept her there. Abby couldn't breathe. He held her in his fingertips for what felt like forever.

"D-Don't you want to know what Tony was doing?" Abby whimpered against his lips.

Gibbs exhaled, smirking, the warmth of it tingling her senses. "Abby. I could give a flying f—"

Abby needed to substantiate it—make it real. She had to feel his mouth, remember the lines of his lips on her tongue. The kiss was more abrupt than the first—certainly, Abby thought, very messy. But she couldn't pass up another chance like this.

"Abbs—" Gibbs breathed.

Abby stopped. Her hands stuck to his jacket. She opened her eyes; Abby's mouth dropped.

His hands were on her shirt, and a beaming smile stretched across his face.

Case closed.