The phone was ringing, and it was 2:14 in the morning. These were two things that in the mind of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs never, ever belonged together in civilian life, yet it was happening. One of the perks of being high on the food chain of NCIS.
Joy, Gibbs thought, reaching for the phone to silence it. Aloud, he grumbled, "This better be important," before picking up the phone and mumbling a sleepy hello.
"Gibbs?" It was Abby's voice, but she sounded small, lost, and to borrow one of Tony DiNozzo's terms, "un-Abby." "I'm sorry … I didn't want to wake you up, but I … well, I didn't have, or didn't know, who else to call … okay, I could have called someone else, but …" She was rambling - typical Abby, but without the happy, caffeinated bounce.
"Don't apologize." Gibbs sat up, moving out of bed in one smooth motion. His people knew they could count on him when they needed to, and that was exactly the way Gibbs wanted it. "Where are you? I'll pick you up." Whatever was happening, he didn't want Abby driving, not the way she sounded.
"No, you don't have to," Abby protested.
"I'm already out of bed and dressed," Gibbs insisted. "Where are you? Don't make me wake McGee up to track your cell phone's GPS." Gibbs was fairly certain McGee could do that from his home computer, whether the program was official or not. Of course, Gibbs was fairly certain McGee could make any computer do just about anything McGee wanted it to.
Abby provided the address, reluctance in her tone. After an extended pause, she added, "Gibbs, please, don't freak out, but … it's kind of a crime scene."
A crime scene it was indeed, but no yellow tape was going to stand between Gibbs and one of his people. Abby had fortunately warned the cops of this beforehand it seemed, because as he approached, one looked to her, and approached Gibbs when Abby nodded.
"What's going on here?" Gibbs asked.
"Robbery gone bad," the cop, whose name tag read "Williams," reported. "We just needed your friend's witness report; you can take her home now."
That was exactly what Gibbs intended to do, and not her home, either. He walked up to Abby, who was standing with her arms wrapped around herself, Williams' jacket draped around her shoulders. Gibbs exchanged it for his own, giving Williams a grateful nod. "Hey, Abbs."
Abby threw her arms around him immediately, melting into Gibbs' arms as he returned the hug. "Oh, Gibbs, it was so awful. I know we deal with stuff like this every day, but to see it for real..."
Gibbs hadn't missed the body bag present at the scene. "I know, Abby." He pressed a kiss into her hair, which was hanging down, the early morning wind blowing it into her face. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"
"I was leaving a friend's party, then I walked around the corner, and..." Abby shivered, and Gibbs wasn't sure if it was from the memory or the chill in the air. "I tried to help the guy, but he died anyway." There was blood on her hands as proof.
That was when it was the worst, Gibbs knew, and he held Abby tighter. "You did everything you could." Whatever she had done, it would have been to the best of her abilities. That was just how Abby worked. "Come on, it's cold out here. I'm taking you home."
Abby tried to resist. "Gibbs, I live two blocks away."
"I'm aware of that," Gibbs said. "I'm still taking you home."
Gibbs handed Abby one of his t-shirts before she headed to the shower to wash away the physical evidence of the horror she'd seen that night. "You know where the bathroom is. You can stay up and talk to me if you want, but I don't think you'll get much sleep wearing that." Her skirt looked like a black tutu if one asked Gibbs, but he was no judge of fashion and certainly never of Abby.
Abby finally abandoned her act of trying not to trouble him. She could be stubborn, but Gibbs was more stubborn, especially when it came to watching out for his people. "Thanks, Gibbs." She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "You're the best."
"Just remember that when I don't let you call in to work in the morning," Gibbs told her. He was bluffing, and they both knew it, but she'd worry about him if he didn't play the game, and the only one Abby needed to worry about right now was herself.
Abby smiled, a genuine smile for the first time that night, and that was all the reply Gibbs needed.
A grown woman didn't require tucking in, Abby insisted, but Gibbs did it anyway and Abby let him.
Before he went back to bed, Gibbs stood in the doorway for a moment, watching Abby as she settled to sleep. If she needed him, he knew she would find him, but he stood there anyway, savoring the irony. When his daughter had been young, Gibbs had prayed she would never grow up to dye her hair and dress in black. Now he knew that if he had been blessed enough to see that day, everything would have been just fine. Or, as Abby would have probably put it, "peachy."
The End