Disclaimer: NCIS does not belong to me. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Spoilers for "Bloodbath."

Humming along to her music, Abby spins aimlessly on her stool, relishing the rare moment of free time. With her job, it's not very often that she has absolutely nothing to do. And usually, she likes it that way. She would get bored, she knows, constantly sitting around waiting for something to come up. After the week she's had, though? There's something to be said for a little peace and quiet. Well, peace anyway. A quiet lab would just be too weird.

But after the stress, and the fear, and the sheer craziness of this past week, she can't complain about the lack of activity. After being stalked by an ex-boyfriend who, as it turned out, hadn't been quite as harmless as she'd thought, and almost killed by a fake Federal Marshal, being bored is actually kind of a welcome change.

So Abby spins contentedly on her stool, becoming increasingly dizzy with each rotation. She's at the point where her vision has become just a little blurry when she hears a dry voice just above her head. "Having fun?"

Damn it, how does he always manage to sneak up on her like that? "Gibbs!" she whines, frowning reprovingly, "Don't do that!"

He just laughs a little, raising an eyebrow and giving her that soft half-smile he seems to reserve just for her. As he looks her over, though, his smile fades a little. After a moment, the intensity of his gaze starts to make her uncomfortable. To distract herself from that disconcerting stare, she spins one last time on her stool, feet outstretched, letting out a soft "whee!"

In response, Gibbs brings his hands up to rest on her shoulders, the grip firm, but still just as gentle as he always is with her. "Hold still a minute, Abbs." He spins her around to face him, and she looks up, getting the full brunt of that remarkably intense stare.

Uh-oh. Abby isn't sure she likes the look he's giving her. Well, no, actually, that's not true. The truth is, she's very sure she doesn't like it. That serious, unwavering look never means good news. Never, ever. She watches suspiciously as he leans against the counter, perching on the corner of the laminate surface and positioning himself so that he's facing her. He stares at her for a long moment, before finally speaking. "Abbs." That's all he says at first. Just the one word. But it's more than enough to have her stomach doing flip-flops. That quiet tone of his is so much worse than yelling. And Abby has a sinking, squirming sort of feeling that she knows exactly what Gibbs wants to talk about.

Despite that, though, she pretends not to notice that anything is wrong. She smiles back at him with exaggerated cheerfulness and bounces a little on her stool. Not that avoiding Gibbs's questioning – interrogations, really – ever actually works. Still, she knows the bossman has a soft spot where she's concerned, and she's not above playing on that a little. Especially if it might help her avoid what is starting to look like it'll shape up to be a pretty impressive lecture.

Gibbs is still giving her that same long look. Honestly, she'd swear he hasn't blinked since coming into her lab. "Why didn't you come to me, Abby?" he finally demands quietly. It's the same question he'd asked her earlier, when the team had first found out about Mikel. And just like it had the first time, that tone he uses – quiet, disappointed, maybe even a little hurt – is enough to tear right through her.

"I told you, Gibbs," she tries to explain again, "It was embarrassing! I mean, how stupid was it, getting involved with a whack job like that? And I made excuses for him! I told myself he was harmless! Just like every other poor deluded soul out there in a dangerous relationship! I mean, damn it, I work in law enforcement! I'm supposed to know better!"

Gibbs is silent, letting her rant. It's not until it's clear that she's finished that he finally speaks. "Abbs." He draws her name out with a rueful sigh. Despite the uncomfortable situation, Abby can't help thinking how amazing it is, the amount of expression Gibbs can manage to put into a single word. "Abbs, I've been divorced three times. You really think I'd think less o f you because of a relationship that didn't work out?"

Huh. That answer is so unexpected that for a moment, all she can do is blink. OK, so she hadn't exactly thought of that. She risks a quick glance at him, but immediately wishes she hadn't. There's nothing in the world that can tie her insides into knots quite the way that disappointed look can. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice cracking a bit in her desperation for him to believe her, to understand.

She's a little surprised that for once, Gibbs makes no comment about his stance on apologies. He just stares at her for yet another seemingly endless moment, before nodding slowly. "Something like that happens ever again, you come to me. You got that?" She wouldn't have thought it possible, but his voice actually gets even firmer as he continues, "Before it gets out of hand, Abbs. I don't care if you think it's stupid, or you think you can handle it, or whatever other excuse you're giving yourself. You come to me." She nods, her gaze still fixed firmly on her lap, but that's not enough for him. He taps a finger under her chin. "Look at me, Abbs." He waits until she does so. "I can't lose you, too. Promise me."

There's something unsettling about the way he's looking at her. The gaze is insistent, but there's something else there, too. Something almost desperate. In fact, if it hadn't been Gibbs she was talking about, Abby would have sworn it was fear. It's disquieting enough that she takes him seriously. "I will, Gibbs. I promise."

He continues to regard her with that same stare for a moment longer, before nodding briskly. "Good." After a moment, he leans forward to pres a gentle kiss on her forehead. The knots in her stomach start to relax at that, the gesture assuring her that everything is OK, now. That she really is forgiven. Sighing in a combination of relief and contentment, she drops her head onto his shoulder. He lets her rest it there for a moment, carding a hand through her hair, before pulling gently away. "Let me drive you home."

"Gibbs," she draws the word out in a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Bad guys in jail, now, remember? You don't need to protect me anymore."

He smiles briefly at that, his face softening in amusement, before his expression turns more serious. Without looking at her, he murmurs, "Maybe I like to." He's quiet for a while after that, and for just an instant, it looks like he's about to say more. But before Abby can wonder too much about what that might be, he seems to snap out of it. "C'mon. Let's get you home." He brings a hand up to rest gently on the small of her back, guiding her toward the elevator.

Abby leans contentedly into his touch, letting herself enjoy the feeling of comfort, of safety, that she always gets when he's around. Part of her thinks that's ridiculous. She's a grown woman, after all, and more than capable of taking care of herself. It's true, what she told him: she doesn't need protecting. But none of that seems to make any difference in the face of that persistent, if irrational, feeling. That niggling little thought that won't seem to go away, no matter how much she tells herself that it's ridiculous.

Maybe I like it, too.

A/N: Feedback is always welcome! I'd love to hear from you.