"McGee, what's it like doing things with your right hand?"
"Um... Abby, I'm left handed."
McGee wasn't a stranger to Abby's weird and random questions. No one was, really. But he knew that Abby knew he was left handed, and it seemed like a stupid question coming from someone so intelligent.
"I know that, McGee! But I've seen you do stuff with your right hand too. What's it like?"
"It's uncomfortable. Why are you asking?"
"I want to start using my left hand more."
She knew McGee didn't want to ask why. He was only helping her with some computer glitches after all, and Gibbs probably didn't have the time to be an agent short. But if he didn't ask, he'd have the wrath of Abby to deal with, and he honestly didn't know what was worse.
"Okay, fine. Why do you want to use your left hand more, Abby?"
She grinned because she knew he'd be forced to ask, but she could practically hear the little voice in his head whining, "What have I gotten myself into?"
"Well, since you asked... I am no longer comfortable with my own body, McGee."
It was almost as if she was breaking news that she'd killed his pet goldfish or something. How the hell could Abby not be happy with her body? She was what almost every woman wanted to be physically. She was skinny, she had an interesting eye color, she had a sense of style that made guys (and gals) always double look, plus she looked like she was in her early 20s when she was actually in her late 30s.
"Abby, you look amazing. What do you think is wrong with your body?"
He tried thinking of the possibility that maybe she was regretting a tattoo, but then he couldn't quite figure out what that had to do with using the wrong hand. He was also too afraid to ask.
"Since we've slept together already I guess I can tell you." There was that little voice in McGee's head again. "Do you know how much stuff I do in a day, Tim? Between running labs, paperwork, working down in the evidence garage, even just brushing my hair or buckling up my boots! My right arm is taking all the pain because I'm right handed, and my left hand is totally left out. That does certain things to a girl, you know."
McGee obviously didn't understand what she was trying to say. Her suggestive look told him it was something of a certain nature though, and that's all he really needed to know. "Abby, I don't think I understand and I don't think I want to."
He turned back to his computer and felt his head push forward, but he was quick to pull back before it could slam into the monitor. Abby had slapped his head pretty hard, and he knew then she wasn't happy having to explain this to him. Ziva had been too focused on finding her father's killer to be available for girl talk, so McGee was all she had.
"Look at these McGee!" Abby said and used her hands to gesture what she was talking about. Her breasts were apparently the subject. He couldn't see anything wrong with them though, part of the reason being they were so small, and the other reason being that she had a bra on.
"Abby! What do those have to do with your hands!?"
"When you use one of your arms too much, the opposite breast grows in size. This one is getting bigger than this one! What else could I do, McGee!? Surgery? Create a bra with a different cup size on each side? I'm limited on options!"
McGee rolled his eyes and stood up, pulling Abby's hands to her sides before she started doing anything more with her breasts than she already was.
"Abby, calm down. Your... chest looks fine. Trust me. And even if one does get a little bigger than the other, I doubt anyone will notice. Have you looked in a mirror lately? Believe it or not, not all guys go straight for the breasts, Abby."
Abby gave McGee a girlish smile before forcing him into a hug. He was fine with contact with her but he never expected the strength she had.
"Ya know McGee, if you ever want a closer look at them, all you have to do is ask," Abby whispered before disappearing into her connected office before he had a chance to respond.
