By Argiope aurantia

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS, XKCD, or any other acronyms. I am a fan, nothing more. I hope that the real owners of the stories read this someday, and enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

We never did get the name of that dark-haired girl from the Journal story arc in XKCD...

The Man with the Journal

"I see what you did there." Abby's smile wasn't the warmest she had ever given. It was mischievous, almost predatory. She had been riding this train to the office for a week now, waiting for the garage to repair her car, and had spent the time watching him torment the young women who shared the car with them every day. He sat there with that book, baiting introverted women and then wordlessly dismissing them with a single eye roll. Every day another poor girl left the train close to tears, another interaction that a less experienced viewer would miss. But Abigail Sciuto was not an inexperienced observer, and she wanted to shut this man's game down once and for all.

The man froze, a hint of uncertainty flashing under that hideous jazz hat of his as he scanned her. The blush that had been so perfectly rehearsed was turning into a greyish shade on his face. It was too perfect, the last day before she got her wheels back and the train car was empty save for the two of them. Abby couldn't have planned this meeting better. He was trying to look innocent, something that was obviously alien to him. His scan had also ended at the lower hem of her minskirt, and had devolved into a sort of ricochet between that and her chest. Abby's smile widened into something amused. She made it a point to stand slowly, leaning her weight around a handhold pole as she continued.

"You were trying to open me up so you could hurt my feelings." She shifted her weight from one hip to another, a move practiced from hours of boredom broken by playing with McGee's attention. Justice was fun. "You like to hurt people."

The man started to stammer, shifting uncomfortably as Abby passed herself from one handhold to another. It wasn't easy to do on a moving train, in her usual boots, but she managed it. She stopped right in front of the man, looking down enough to see the blank pages in his journal. She had leaned down just enough to give him a good view. "Well, I like to hurt people, too. And you know what?" she purred, leaning in to whisper right next to the suddenly paralyzed man's ear. "I'm better at it than you."

Abby straightened up, returning to her usual perky self. There was a high-pitched squeal as the brakes of the train kicked in. The trip was over, and it was time to step off of the train for the last time. "I'm about to hurt you more than you could ever hurt me." She spun around, grabbing her purse from her seat without letting go of the handle.

"See, I just saw right through you." She looked over her shoulder, catching the bully's eyes drifting up from her hemline again. He had the nerve to smile at her now, and Abby turned back into him, deadly serious and working hard not to laugh. "Alone out of all the people you'll ever meet, I understand you."

She moved like lightning, on impulse knocking the black jazz hat off of his head and placing it on hers at a coquettish angle. "And you'll never see me again."

Abby didn't look back as she stepped off of the train, but she noticed that she didn't hear footsteps following her either. The man with the journal had missed his stop.