Ghosts in the Elevator
There are ghosts in the elevator, so Tony takes the stairs.
Abby notices because she's seen this kind of anxiety induced claustrophobia before in the form of one silver haired ex-marine. Under any other circumstance she might have given DiNozzo the same treatment she gave Gibbs almost a year ago; call him out for his gratuitous change in routine before sending him on his way with a good kick in the pants. But this isn't just any other circumstance and Tony isn't Gibbs, so she allows the sullen agent to sit in the corner while she fiddles with major mass. spec. She doesn't talk, which is unusual for her, but there seems to be some semblance of comfort in the silence.
She doesn't really know what to say anyway.
It's not for lack of having something to say. There are a million different questions she wants to ask, most of them beginning with 'why,' but now's not the time. Instead her thoughts wander to the reason Tony said he came down here in the first place. He'd wandered in and promptly sat himself on a stool out of her way before announcing Gibbs was upstairs with Vance.
Abby's not stupid though. The fact that there is a powwow going on between the higher ups isn't why Tony's here. It's probably over what – or who – the said powwow concerns.
She can see Tony's apprehension in the rigidness of his shoulders and the way he's been spinning his cell phone around in his hands ever since he got here. He's been that way since they got back from Tel Aviv, all nervous and brooding and quiet. Abby can't help but feel a twinge in her heart for him, because she knows that for all his walls, defenses and moments of idiocy he is a good man. And right now he's hurting.
Abby doesn't know how to fix it though, because this kind of hurt is different from any other hurt she's dealt with before. She managed to cope with Kate's death, with Jenny's, but this time it hasn't taken the loss of a life to make her remember how precious time is with the ones she loves.
Ziva didn't die, she left them.
Or they left her. Abby still isn't sure if it's one, the other or maybe both.
The conflicts of interest has her mind brimming with even more questions as she pauses with her tinkering, glancing at Tony to see him looking at his cell phone again. His eyes are glued to the screen, so he doesn't see her staring and biting her lip as she debates whether or not to say something. It seems strange, given her typical disregard of the phrase 'think before you speak,' she can feel the volatile tension in the air like the sharp edge of a knife. She's afraid of making it worse by adding her own thoughts, inquiries and accusations to the mix.
Abby wants to see Tony smile, because he's been scowling and frowning enough to last her the rest of her lifetime. She wants to see him happy, the team happy, because ever since they got back – without Ziva – everything has been thrown out of order. The stars seem all out of alignment and the cosmos is in chaos. Men are taking the stairs instead of the elevator and it's already noon and she's only had one cafpow. The sudden downward spiral of negativity is starting to freak her out.
It's quite possible the world is coming to an end.
"Tony?" She pushes her swivel chair away from Major Mass. Spec to slide over to his corner in a whirl of pigtails and jingling chains.
He jumps when she runs into his knees and gives her that deer in the headlights look, his fingers curling around his phone uncertainly as he leans back in his chair in an attempt to regain some of his personal space.
"Yes?" He replies skeptically.
Abby doesn't say anything at first. She's watching the phone in his hand, her arms crossed over her chest in deep concentration while she swivels from side to side.
"Ziva's going to call, right?" She can't help the hitch in her words as she forces the question out. "I mean she wouldn't just drop off the face of the earth. Even if she doesn't call you, not that I don't think she would, do you think she'll call me? Email me? Secret Mossad message in a bottle? Because honestly Tony, I'm not ready to loose another-"
"I don't know Abby."
Tony is fierce and bitter when he speaks, cutting her emotional rampage out of the air with a single blow. Abby chokes on the rest of what she was going to say and looks down at her boots, hugging her arms closer in defense against Tony's angry words. When she looks up again she expects to see him glowering at her, but he's not. Instead Gibbs' senior field agent looks guilty.
"I don't know Abs," He repeats the statement softly, an apology in his eyes, "I wish I could tell you I did."
Abby is nearly overwhelmed by the pain in his voice, the remorse she can hear in every syllable that comes out of his mouth. It's all she can do to keep from crying, but instead of combusting into a pile of saltine tears she grabs for Tony's hand in hopes that somehow the simple gesture will anchor them both to solid ground.
"I miss her, Tony."
She squeezes his hand for emphasis, hoping to convey the sense of utter hopelessness that's burrowed its way into her soul. She holds his gaze for a moment, but he looks away when he replies, like he's staring at something far off in the distance.
"Me too."
He tries to smile, but it doesn't work. It seems sad and out of place, so instead he squeezes her hand back, his way of saying everything she needs to hear without saying anything at all. Tony has never been one for grand displays of affection or understanding, but he does understand, probably better then anyone else and Abby decides that this gesture is enough.
Tony stands and Abby lets him pull her out of his way before her hand drops back to her lap. They share a moment of silence, a brief exchange between sorrowful green eyes. Then, as if nothing has happened, Tony turns and moves toward the door. Abby watches him go and then prepares to turn back to the spectrometer, but mid-roll across the lab she comes to an abrupt stop, the soles of her boots leaving skid marks on the tile. It's a matter of milliseconds and she's out of her chair, flying across the room to catch the senior agent before he disappears.
"Tony!"
He's half way down the hall, but he stops, pivoting slowly in a one hundred and eighty degree circle until he can see her hanging by the doorframe, lab coat askew and pigtails a mess.
"Yeah Abs?"
Abby's always been a spiritual person. She believes in ghosts, respects them even, but desperate times call for desperate measures and it's time for a resurrection. She closes her eyes shut and takes a breath before opening them again, greeted by a puzzled DiNozzo. She offers him a quick grin, the heaviness in the air lifting for a moment as she calls down the hall, yelling extra loud to make sure he hears.
"Take the elevator!"
This was a piece written for NCIS LFWS over at livejournal, in which we had to write a missing scene. This particular scene took place in Aaliyah. This was a piece from round one almost two weeks ago, but as we are not allowed to show anyone the written piece until after they have been voted on, I did not get it up until now. Hopefully as the rounds proceed I will be able to post my various pieces.
Thanks again for your reviews and comments. Also, thank you to my Beta, Zaedah, for looking this over. She is my inspiration; do stop by and check out her wonderful NCIS and Fringe fanfictions. She has an amazing way with words.