This was written for Foxy Nighthawk in gratitude for her patience with my ramblings:)
A short fluff-ficlett based on "Forced Entry" (S2, Ep 9) and it has spoilers!!
I hope you can live with the quality of this piece; I'm far out of my element on this one and don't know the characters or show that well.

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It's late, very late, and no matter how many times I tell myself this, I can't seem to get my ass out of work and back home.

We got them, and I have to admit it felt good. I'd never admit however that they had me fooled. Of course they did, they had us all fooled at first, but if I think it too loudly, Tony will eventually get wind of it and I'd never hear the end of it. Or maybe that rule just obliges to thoughts of a sexual nature. Freak.

Anyway, we solved the case, put the jerks away, I should be home feeling good about myself with a glass of nice wine. Instead I'm at work, starring at my computer screen trying to gather enough courage to either go home or turn the damned thing on.

I'd forever deny there is a specific reason I'm still here at this time. Gibbs sent us home hours ago, but there is a definite advantage to the situation; there is no one in sight at this time of day. Well, this time of night, really.

I still slide down in my seat as I finally gather the strength or will to commit career suicide and type in the address, looking over my shoulder as I create my account and chuckling slightly at the information I'm posting.

This isn't me; I can't believe I'm really doing this! It's obscene, it's wrong; it's… oh gosh…

As the image finishes loading, I can't help but stare at the screen for a moment. She's breathtaking, and the coy look she gives almost makes me blush. I can't help but run a finger over the screen to her face.

That's when I notice that the little online-button is shining green and my body freezes. I thought she only created the profile for research purposes!

My fingers move on their own as I click the little envelope-shaped button and start typing. It takes about two seconds between I hit the 'send' button until I start panicking. What the hell am I doing?!

Oh my god…

I bury my face in my hands as it dawns on me; I've just created a fake account on a sleazy sex-site and sent a message soaked in innuendoes and advances to a co-worker! I'm pathetic; I'm an idiot, I… I've got mail!

I look up at the blinking mailbox link and again my brain decides it wants no part of this and leaves as I click the flashing icon. Oh good god… I audibly gasp as I skim the reply and suddenly the graphic emails from the case seem to wither in my memory, most likely due to my lack of breathing functions and the way blood has drained from my head to lower regions.

Damn that woman can write! And lord help me if I don't picture the things she's describing, letting my imagination make up how the scenario continues after she left off far too early in her description. Does she always talk to strangers like this?

I couldn't stop myself from replying if my hair was caught on fire, and my hands tremble slightly as I write.

She's much quicker with the keyboard handling than I am, and her replies are fast and… well, hot.

A few exchanges later I open a couple of buttons on my shirt and pull my hair back. It's too hot in here.

"What are you still doing here?" I visibly jumped at the voice behind me but had the presence of mind to turn off my screen before turning around to face her.

"Abby, you scared me!" Like she hadn't noticed from my six foot leap into the air…

"Yeah, sorry." She takes a sip of her coffee. "You're pretty spry for you age though." She smirks behind the cup.

"Thanks!" I reply sarcastically, silently wondering if she really thinks of me as a lot older than she is.

"You didn't answer my question." Why does she have to be so perceptive all the time?

"Just tying up some loose ends from the case." I lie through my teeth.

"Alone?" Yeah, she's not buying it; the raised brow is a tell-tale sign of hers. She moves to stand in front of my desk as I get up, deciding that I might as well get ready to go home as it seems I've been caught.

"Less distraction." I tell her and since I know she doesn't believe me she seems to be letting me off the hook with a shrug of her shoulder.

"And here I thought you might have been occupying yourself with some steamy chat sessions." Forget the hook part, she's wheeling me in. I know I'm blushing, and I'm sure she's smirking but I can't tell for sure because I can't look at her. How does she know? Does she know? But if she does it would mean…

"Uhm…" Oh, how very eloquent Kate.

"You know…" Oh god, when did her voice get so low? "I never pegged you for the leather kind of gal." I feel my insides melt as my lower stomach does a wide range of acrobatics at her words. Am I still breathing?

She's messing with me, I know it. She thought I was playing her so now she's playing me and I'm putty in her nimble hands.

"Look, Abby, I'm… I'm sorry, I… I…" Fuck, I've never stuttered like this in my life! And now she's stepping in behind my desk, standing much too close for my vocal abilities to register their malfunction.

"You're sorry Agent Todd?" She purrs, sending shivers down my spine. "Mmm, I don't think so." She walks closer and I still haven't looked at her. "Not yet you're not."

Horror grips me and wraps itself around my chest. She wouldn't…

"Abby I didn't mean… You're not gonna…?" Goddamn my mind for deserting me into the fate of my raging hormones at a time like this!

"Tell? Oh no, you're gonna make it up to me." My head jerks up fast enough to catch the smirk playing at her blood-red painted lips. I don't get it, what am I..? My thoughts fade into thin mist as she leans closer, her face barely and inch form mine now. Oh my, she smells good.

"Aren't you…?" She whispers softly before closing the distance, almost gingerly placing her parted lips on mine. It takes my mind a few moments to register what is really going on, but as her tongue darts out to gently flick against my upper lip I hear myself whimper softly and I lean in to deepen the kiss.

She doesn't protest and I feel my head floating off my shoulders as she takes two steps forward, pinning my thighs to the desk as her tongue demands entrance to my mouth. I'm more than happy to oblige and my hands reach up to wrap themselves around her tattooed neck.

Our kiss goes from almost chaste into me having to steady myself against the desk as not to fall backwards over it as her mouth moves hungrily against mine. And as we break to catch our breath in shallow pants, my knees give a serious warning about their failing steadiness.

"God, Abby…" I gasp between breaths and I open my eyes again to see her smiling at me.

"Damn, Kate, you've been holding out on me." Leave it to Abbey to joke after just kissing me senseless. But I'll be damned if I let her have all the fun. She looks a little too cocky, and that smug grin –no matter how cute it is- has got to go. So I take a firm hold on her hips, as much for effect as to keep me steady, and lean in to brush my lips against her soft cheek.

"I am going to make it up to you…" I whisper, using the fact that her proximity makes my voice drop significantly. "My place." I continue, sticking my tongue out to first lick, then nibble on her earlobe, revelling in the shiver I feel going through her body. "So don't take that collar of just yet." Her moan is audible this time and I finish off by tasting that addictive skin of hers with my teeth.

"Let's go." Her voice is strained and as she pulls away from me I can see her eyes have turned several shades darker. I don't know what this is or where it's going to lead, but right now I can't think of a single thing more important than getting to taste her again.

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Thank you so much for reading!

Jellicos