From the author's desk: This is the other Help Haiti fic I had to write. This one is for vegas at the NFA Forums who won my het story auction. She gave me the following prompt:

Abby moves into a new apartment. this one allows pets and she wants to take Jethro the dog to live with her. And Tim won't even think about it. He has formed a bond for Jethro and come to love him. So a little angst, a little drama. I leave the ending completely up to you.

Though this turned into more of a McAbby close friendship story, there is a little romance in there if you squint.

Many thanks to Enthusiastic Fish for being a sounding board for me on this one and also for beta-ing it for me, as this is one story that kept giving me trouble.

This is a two-shot, and the second chapter will be posted tomorrow.

I hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters are the property of Donald P. Bellisario and his associates. This was written strictly for entertainment purposes only.

Warning!: Spoilers for NCIS: LA episode 1.9 "Random on Purpose." If this bothers you, then please turn back now.

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Wanting Safety
by dreamsweetmydear

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"The one permanent emotion of the inferior man is fear - fear of the unknown, the complex, the inexplicable. What he wants above everything else is safety." - Henry Louis Mencken

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Chapter One

She's having this dream again.

Once again, she is stuck in that god-awful chair, the straight back and hard wood keeping her stiff, while the drug coursing through her veins keeps her immobile.

The creep is talking to her, and again she isn't sure how to react when he tells her he was saving the spot of "woman in her late 20's" for her.

It feels like that detail about her age is his one mistake.

He's facing her now, the axe lifted in his hands. Time slows down as he raises the heavy blade, and prepares to bring it down in a sharp arc.

Her heart is beating fast, and her eyes are wide. Where is the shower of breaking glass from the skylight? The volley of bullets from blazing guns? Callen and Sam?

The light catches the curve of the axe-blade as her killer swings down…

And then all is black.

Abby sat up screaming in her coffin, drenched in a cold sweat. She scrambled out of the wooden deathbed, and collapsed on the floor in a violently shaking heap.

She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking back and forth gently.

"It was only a dream," she cried brokenly. "Only a dream. I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay…"

Once she was calm again, she got to her feet, and made her way through her apartment to the kitchen, turning on light after light as she went. Taking the pitcher of filtered water out of the fridge, Abby decided to forego a glass and tipped her head back, pouring the cold liquid into her mouth with careful precision.

She sat down heavily at her kitchen table, and lay her head down on the wooden surface.

This couldn't keep going on. Something had to give, dammit, because she couldn't keep losing sleep like this. She couldn't keep waking up in the middle of the night like this, screaming and scared out of her mind, that creep's gleeful smile as he swung the axe down following her into wakefulness.

A small voice whispered to her from the back of her mind. "Talk to someone," it murmured gently.

Abby vehemently squashed the voice. She wasn't crazy! She did not need to go and…talk to someone.

No, all she needed was…was someone to keep her company. Like a roommate.

No wait, that didn't work out so well the last time she tried it. (Years and years ago. In college. Oh, and that year before she joined NCIS. There just weren't enough open-minded people in the world anymore! Really, what was so wrong about sleeping in a coffin, and having a collection of voodoo dolls? At least she wasn't like some of these kids nowadays who thought being a Goth was all about being depressed. And really, there was nothing wrong with having an extensive collection of chains, collars, whips, and handcuffs. McGee certainly seemed to appreciate them when they were dating all those years ago…)

Her rambling thoughts ground to a sudden halt.

McGee.

No wait, not McGee.

Jethro. Sweet, furry, bouncy Jethro. Jethro who used to be a drug detecting dog for the Marine Corps. Jethro who was always happy to see her, and always put a smile on her face. (Not that McGee didn't do that most of the time too, but those were the keywords: most of the time.)

Jethro would be the perfect solution to this problem of bad dreams and sleepless nights. (She would not acknowledge them as nightmares, night terrors, night-whatevers.) He would be the ideal roommate! She'd have someone to come home to every night, and someone to make her feel safe when she had bad dreams. Oooh, and Jethro wouldn't mind her voodoo dolls, or her coffin, or her collection of whips and chains, or the black paint on her walls.

And since the new landlord had come in, the ban on pets had been lifted, meaning Jethro would have plenty of doggie friends to play with! She was even friends with some of her dog-owning neighbors, so it would be easy to arrange a play date for her best canine friend in the whole world.

And of course, McGee wouldn't mind. He might resist a bit in the beginning, but he always came around, and in the end was happy to do what she wanted.

Yeah, the more Abby considered it, this was sounding like a better and better idea by the second.

Her mind made up, Abby decided to talk to McGee about adopting Jethro from him first thing in the morning.

Feeling much better than she had in quite awhile, Abby took a look at the microwave clock. It was too late to attempt to go back to bed, even if she was still tired. Her alarm would be ringing in an hour and a half anyway, and half that time would be taken falling back to sleep.

Hmm. What to do?

Well, she could always just go in early. And why not pick up breakfast for Timmy when she went to pick up her own? She was going to ask him if she could adopt his dog after all. The least she could do is buy him breakfast!

With a plan in mind, Abby set about getting ready for the day.

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Abby was well into the swing of her morning lab routine of letting her machines warm up when Tim came down to see her, carrying the note she'd left on his desk when she came in. A new album played in her stereo, industrial beats pulsing out through her speakers.

"Morning Abs," he greeted her with a smile. "Got your note."

"Timmy!" she squealed, tackling him in a hug. "C'mon. I've got breakfast set up in my office!"

She linked her arm with his, and led him through the pneumatic doors to her inner office, where a chair had been pulled up on either side of her desk's free space, a take-out box set at each place. Next to Tim's box was a grande double Americano (one of his preferred coffee drinks, if she remembered correctly), while next to her own breakfast she'd put down her customary morning Caff-Pow!.

"Sit, sit, sit," Abby urged Tim, gently pushing him toward his seat. He gave her a grin and a shake of his head in response as he sat down.

"Thanks for this, Abby. But what's the special occasion?" She watched as he opened his breakfast box, revealing an omelette with a side of country fried potatoes and two sausage links. "Wow! I haven't had a breakfast this good in a long time. Puts the muffin I grabbed on my way out the door this morning to serious shame," he complimented as he opened up the packet of plastic cutlery that she'd placed next to his coffee before cutting into the omelette.

"Oh don't mention it, McGee! It's been awhile since we've had breakfast together, so I thought I'd treat you today," Abby said as she dug into her own box of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and a biscuit.

They spent most of breakfast talking about the latest office news, how their weekends went, and other small talk.

About halfway through the meal, Abby decided it was a good time to steer the conversation toward the main reason she wanted to see McGee.

"So how's Jethro?" Abby began, taking a bite of her biscuit.

Tim swallowed the potato he'd been chewing before answering. "Oh, he's doing really well. He's extremely happy since I found a dog park not too far from our new place. I took him there yesterday evening. Seems like he made a few new friends too!"

Abby smiled at the content expression on Tim's face. "That's great!"

She busied herself by cutting into her bacon, and continued talking. "My new landlord lifted the ban on pets in our building. So I'm thinking of getting a dog."

Tim grinned at her. "Really? That's great news, Abby! What kind of dog are you thinking of getting?"

Abby suddenly found it very difficult to swallow the bacon in her mouth. That pesky voice in the back of her mind was warning her against doing this. "How can you ask this of Tim? It wouldn't be right. He loves Jethro!"

Again she quashed the little voice. She'd thought about this! This was the best solution for her problem. And she loved Jethro too! Sometimes she thought she loved him more than Tim did. She would take good care of him!

"Abby?"

Abby refocused on Tim, noting the concerned expression on his face. "You okay? You spaced out there."

Abby nodded, and smiled again. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"So what dog are you thinking of getting?" he asked her again. "I think you were going to answer, but then you zoned out."

"Actually…" Abby paused, and swallowed once more. "Actually, that's kind of why I asked you to have breakfast with me. The dog I want to adopt is this amazing German Shepherd. He's the sweetest thing! And he was a military drug dog, perfect considering I work for NCIS, right? Man, I fell in love with that doggie face the first time I saw him. Such a cute thing—"

She paused mid-rant, and focused on Tim's face. There was an amused but knowing smile on his lips, and it looked like he was trying to hold back a chuckle.

"Well, yeah. Jethro is really a great dog. But seriously! What dog are you planning to get? Another German shepherd? Or how about a golden retriever?"

Abby frowned. "Tim, I'm not joking. I really do want to adopt Jethro from you."

Tim blinked at her in surprise. "But I didn't put Jethro up for adoption, Abby. If I was going to, you know you'd be the first to know."

Abby shook her head. He wasn't getting it! She had to try and convince him.

"But don't you think Jethro would be happier with me? I mean, you've got crazy hours as an agent, Tim. And what are you going to do if, God forbid, something happens to you out in the field and you can't take care of him? He'd be safer with me! And I love Jethro, maybe even more than you do!"

"What? Abby, where is all this coming from? Yes, Jethro and I got off to a rocky start, but I love my dog! I'm not just going to give Jethro to you because you want him and you think he'd be better off with you! And anyway, you keep just as many weird hours as I do!" Tim argued back to her, standing up from his seat and throwing his napkin and utensils down next to his breakfast box. Abby winced inwardly at the incredulity on his face and in his voice.

Abby stood up then too, frustrated with him. Why couldn't he understand that this was better for both him and Jethro? ("And you," the little voice at the back of her mind said. "Shut it!" Abby yelled back.) She would take better care of Jethro! (And he would help her with her night-time problem.)

"McGee, it's not like you wanted him in the first place anyway! If you forgot, you shot that poor dog when you first met instead!"

Wide, disbelieving green eyes stared back at her. "You forced me to take him! And Jethro and I managed to work out our issues! You can't have him back just because you want him, Abby! That's not how it works!"

Before Abby could say anything else, Tim spun on his heel and was out the door.

Even with the noise of her stereo and her machines, Abby couldn't help but feel that her lab had suddenly had all the sound and all the feeling sucked out of it.