Stone cold sober
by Caz
Disclaimer is in force, so leave me be!
Rated K+
WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HER!? Abby was sitting in her room with tears streaming down her face, staring at the one and only private and very personal photograph of herself and Jethro Gibbs. A photograph from ages ago. A buddy photograph. A photograph that told a whole story. A photograph that she treasured, still.
She cried harder still suddenly unable to hold back the choking sobs, her trembling voice bouncing around the silent room because of last night. Last night she'd done something stupid. Worse than stupid. Much worse and she was certain that she wasn't going to be able to look Gibbs straight in the eye ever again.
As tears still cascaded down her face, strangely, Abby couldn't stop the chuckle that bubbled up, a chuckle of shame and stupidity as she reluctantly tried to remember exactly 'what' had happened last night. Lord, did she get drunk in that bar. So drunk that she didn't even remember Gibbs carrying her out, much to her buddies, Tim, Ducky, Tony and Ziva's amusement.
Because last night, drunk out of her mind, Abby had come on strong to Gibbs, so strong that instead of being horrified at what she was doing, he had allowed her to make a total and utter fool of herself.
What in God's name was she going to do?
~*~
He'd done it. He'd finally gotten his little dark, feisty and utterly adorable firecracker to let him get beneath her seemingly impenetrable shell.
He vividly remembered the tongue that she had trailed along his earlobe as he'd danced with her. Then the kiss that she had placed tenderly upon his cheek. And then the one upon his unresisting mouth. Then her hands had threaded through his soft silver hair. Then it had crept around to his jawline and then she had slipped a fingertip in between his lips and created a tidal wave of longing within him that he thought he'd long ago had managed to subdue.
Longings that he hadn't known that Abby had harboured herself for a long time. Until now.
Until last night.
But it had been the hushed and slurred words that had slipped past her lips that he had remembered the most. The same words that had been spoken to him numerous times in playful jest. Or in past dreams when he had been carried away by what she had unknowingly given him, forcing him to acknowledge that Abby was more than a friend to him. His dreams allowed him to be more than that. His dreams allowed his silent yearnings to be fulfilled.
That was until she'd gotten drunk.
In that drunken moment of madness she had let her guard down and allowed Gibbs to see the real her. She had told Gibbs with her words and her heart that she had loved him and the kiss that had followed after had fatefully sealed it.
~*~
After Gibbs had left her on the bed in her hotel room after tenderly tucking her beneath the comforter that lay folded back on top, Abby had slept the sleep of the dead, waking in the morning more than worse for the wear. And then she had showered and dressed somewhat gingerly and had been surprised when barely minutes later there was a knock at her door.
It had to be him. It just had to be.
How did he always know that she was ready for him? Only Gibbs seemed to know that she'd been thinking about him; wishing that he were there to make her feel better. Hoping that he'd give her another one of those special little Gibbs pecks. He always did. He always knew.
And Abby lived for those moments.
As she reached for the door handle she only could assume it actually 'was' Gibbs coming to tease her about her conduct and to offer his sympathy at the headache that he'd know she'd have. But when she opened the door to him and looked up into his handsome face it quickly became painfully clear that it was for neither of those reasons.
Abby felt his trepidation, saw it in his eyes and the way he held her gaze as he silently tried to look into her mind hoping she had remembered last night by her actions, her words and her acute shyness. He was reluctant to start the conversation that he knew they'd have to have, but it was clear from her slightly bloodshot and innocent cat-like eyes that she had no clue what she'd said to him, or had done to him, none whatsoever.
She watched him struggle for a short while until her own suspense and famed impatience got the better of her and she blurted, "What, Gibbs?"
Abby saw the dismay her words had created and it dimly registered that whatever Gibbs had wanted to ask her - wanted her to remember, was important. Important enough for him to try and hide how her callous, but guileless words had affected him.
He failed.
She watched him swallow as he continued to stand in her doorway and steadily watch her for any sign that she remembered. Occasionally unable to hold her gaze his eyes drifted off to somewhere else within the room as he tried to reign himself in. But only for a second. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes away from her, didn't want to, and each time they came back to her they became suspiciously brighter, and with shock, Abby realised that he was battling tears.
Tears!? Gibbs never cried, ever. It wasn't part of his make up. It wasn't the done thing for a marine to show his feelings. Damn, it just wasn't Gibbs!
Scared now, Abby stepped closer to him, now with questions of her own, needing to understand what was wrong with her own hero. They were all etched upon her elfin features and coming to a halt before him, she swallowed nervously and asked again. "What's wrong Gibbs? What did I do? Tell me."
Looking deep into her eyes he at last murmured hoarsely, "You don't remember anything, do you, Abs?"
Abby hated saying, 'no' to him when it was painfully obvious that whatever had happened between them last night was of vital importance. Not only to him, but to, 'them'. Her eyes silently pleaded with him to reveal what he knew until, unable to bare another moment of the torture she finally whispered, "Tell me, Gibbs. Tell me what happened last night...please."
He stepped slowly towards her, his eyes never leaving hers until he was close enough to her for her smell his aftershave. Close enough to reach up and kiss him, if she chose to. Close enough to see how her response would affect him when he revealed the truth about her.
Them.
His voice was low when he spoke, his voice barely reaching past a murmur. "You said you loved me, Abby. You kissed me and nuzzled my ear, and then you whispered that you loved me." Slowly lifting his arm he placed one hand tenderly upon her chest, feeling her now pounding heart beneath his fingertips.
Then looking deep into her very soul, he brokenly whispered, "You let me in here, Abby, and I finally saw."
His eyes shone with joy at what her moment of madness had revealed and he touched his lips lightly to hers, his wondrous newly found knowledge fluttering between them like a precious secret becoming unveiled. As he hovered close enough to see himself in her startled and beautiful eyes he couldn't help whispering with awe again, "I saw us, Abby."
Startled, her hushed, "Oh, my God..." resounded around them both locking them in a hurricane of emotions that climbed and soared, tumbled and screamed then tore each others hearts out as the impact of, not only his admission, but hers, too sent them both into an instant that they both wished they could replay with different words.
What could she say? Did she say, 'Yes, yes, it's true, I love you, Gibbs?' Or, 'Do you feel the same way about me? Or, 'What now, where do we go from here?' What? What? WHAT?
But instead she said, "I...I was drunk, Gibbs..."
Stupid! Stupid! STUPID!
It was stupid because the moment the words left her lips Gibbs quickly closed his eyes and dropped his arm as if he'd been burnt. And then he turned and left her standing in the centre of her room feeling as though the hurricane had unceremoniously dumped her where she stood.
And now, hours later, she was wallowing in her own hand-made agony and knew the man along the corridor was probably hurting even more than she. Abby silently begged and prayed for God, or Ducky, or anyone! to whizz back time and let her put things right, just for one moment; Back to the moment when she'd said, 'I was drunk, Gibbs'.
Just one moment. That was all she needed.
She began to cry again finally letting the tears fall free and unfettered. It felt good to cry, feeling the weeks of silent misery pour from her aching soul, not knowing if it was the end for them. Not even knowing if it had been the beginning, and when the door had chimed, she hadn't cared who was on the other side, nor did she care if they saw her at her worst.
And she was at her worst. She knew it and so did her friend and colleague, Ziva when the vibrant brunette admitted herself moments later. But her friend didn't speak, nor call her the worst of cowards. Or say, 'There, there, tell me all about it'. Ziva did nothing more than sit beside her, pull her into her arms and hold her tight.
It was all Abby had needed; the comfort of someone who cared. But someone who hadn't understood the depth of her love for their boss. But it hadn't been deep enough and a tiny smidgen of her devotion had seeped through enough for Gibbs to catch a glimpse of it and cling on to it for dear life, hoping above all hopes that someday, somehow it opened up the doorway to his heart long enough for her to slip inside and let him know that she was there, waiting for him.
Waiting for him.
Waiting for him.
Just like he had been waiting for her.
He had been waiting for her and it had taken a drunken moment for her to finally let go and open her heart for him to take a peek inside and see the real her. The Abby that loved him. And then she had passed out and forgotten every word she'd said.
But Gibbs hadn't forgotten.
Gibbs hadn't.
So Abby still had a chance.
Didn't she?
Minutes ticked by as Abby gradually cleared her head and thought about the man along the hall, not knowing if she had blown her chance with him. Would he ever forgive her? She had been drunk, after all. It wasn't all entirely her fault. It was his too, she reasoned. He had been the one to egg her on. He had been the one to pick her up after she had humiliated herself. Perhaps she 'did' have another chance. There was only one way to find out.
Moments later Ziva released her friend long enough to move away and look into Abby's puffy, red eyes, tenderness making her own dark eyes shine with unaccustomed compassion. "Are you okay, Abby?"
Immediately Abby's eyes watered again but this time she managed a watery smile, forcing the one lone teardrop to slide down her cheek. "No, I'm not. But I will be, in a minute."
Ziva's brow creased with puzzlement, but with that puzzlement there was a hint of suspicion, "Are you going to see Gibbs?"
Abby nodded vigorously and another teardrop that had formed fell free, its path rapidly made a trail down to her chin. Abby swiped it away with a trembling hand, her eyes tenderly falling to the photograph still tightly clutched in her hand. "Yes, I am. It's time to let Gibbs see and feel the real me. Only this time, Ziva, I'll be stone cold sober."