Thanks so much for the reviews so far - I really appreciate them :) Hope you like this part of the story - be warned there are two parts that could be classed as a mild M towards the middle, feel free to skip those if its not your thing :)
Making small talk with Ziva's father was impossible, Tony decided grimly. He'd commented on the weather, comparing it to Israel, sung Ziva's praises several times and still the Director of Mossad seemed unimpressed. He'd been grateful when Ziva had intervened, asking her father about their family and friends in Israel, thankfully keeping Director David occupied as they made the journey from the airport to NCIS.
There were some similarities between the pair but Tony failed to understand how the man sitting in the backseat of the car could have let his daughter face so much danger in her younger years. He didn't like to think of himself as a chauvinist but he liked to think that if he ever had a daughter, he would do everything he could to protect her instead of being the one to put her in danger. He knew Ziva was a capable officer and was grateful for it on some level, knowing he'd be hard-pressed to find a better partner, but at the same time he wished she'd had a different childhood, that she'd known what it was to be cherished and protected. He thought of his own childhood, of his estrangement from his father and envied the evidence closeness between Ziva and Director David even as he wished she'd grown up surrounded by security and peace instead of threat and uncertainty.
"Agent DiNozzo," Director David's voice shook him from his thoughts. "You are my Ziva's partner, yes?"
"One of them," Tony answered, flashing a quick grin in Ziva's direction. "We work with McGee, and Gibbs, of course. Ziva's great."
"I have no doubt." The Director favoured his daughter with a fond smile. "I taught her everything I know."
The smile on his own face was tight. "I'm sure."
An eyebrow rose and the Director stared at him quizzically. "You disapprove of my Ziva being a Mossad officer?"
"Not at all." Tony glanced at the woman in question, noting with curiosity that her attention was fixed on the passing scenery rather than on the conversation taking place inside the car. "She's saved my life more than once. Can't complain about that, can I?"
"No." Director David fixed him with an even gaze. "But you can wonder why I let her undertake such a dangerous occupation."
Tony smiled then, a genuine smile that only widened when Ziva glanced at him. "I don't think you 'let' her do anything. It'd take a foolish man to try and talk her out of something once she's decided to pursue it."
"Foolish indeed." Director Eli David wore a faintly approving expression as his daughter hurriedly looked away. "You understand her, yes? My Ziva can be as stubborn as both her mother and I combined. There is no dissuading her when she has decided upon something."
"None at all," Tony agreed cheerfully. "But it can be fun to try."
Eli David laughed at that, nudging his daughter companionably in the ribs where she sat beside him. Ziva's response was to mutter something in a language Tony couldn't understand, something that made her father laugh even more.
"Ah, my Ziva. You are just like your mother." Sadness tinged the older man's voice and Tony wondered, not for the first time, about the woman Ziva had never mentioned. "If she could see you now, my girl..."
Ziva softened, her smile tender as she gazed at her father. "I miss her, too."
Her father smiled at her and patted her hand before turning his attention to the window, blinking what Tony suspected were tears from his eyes. Tony tried to catch Ziva's gaze but she wouldn't look at him, instead renewing her interest in the landmarks they were passing as silence filled the car.
Just when she thought she was making headway with the backlog of evidence that had gathered in her absence and needed to be processed and catalogued, Ziva and Tony arrived, each carrying a box, while a taller man who could only be her friend's father followed carrying a third.
"More evidence, oh joy." The happy smile on her face belayed the words and she looked at the containers with interest. "What've you got for me?"
"A little bit of this, a little bit of that." Tony set his box down before enveloping her in a hug, arms wrapped loosely about her. "How you feeling, kid? You looked like crap this morning."
She returned his hug briefly before slugging him in the shoulder. "I'm fine, thanks for the compliment, Tony." She rolled her eyes and stepped away from him, peering into the boxes. "Ooh, this looks good."
"Fingerprints, hair samples, saliva samples, surveillance tapes, weapons, ammo and several substances Mossad did not have time to identify," Ziva told her with a smile, stepping back to let Abby rummage around. "There is a lot to go through," she added apologetically.
"Not a problem. It's party-time in labby-land." Abby beamed and looked up. "You must be Director David." She thought about hugging him, saw the anticipation on Tony's face, and thought better of it, instead holding out a hand. "Ziva looks like you."
Director David laughed as he took her hand, a warm sound that made her smile widen. "I daresay my Ziva would not be as flattered as I by the compliment." He lifted her hand to his lips briefly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Sciuto. I have heard much about you."
"Please, call me Abby. Everyone does." She grinned again when he smiled and inclined his head in acknowledgement. "So what was Ziva like as a little girl? Did she play with dolls or was it toy guns and water pistols all the way?"
"Abby!" Ziva flushed as her father laughed again, moving to intercept the over-enthusiastic scientist. "My father does not have time for such tales. He is here for business, not pleasure."
Abby rolled her eyes dramatically and shook her head. "Yeah, right. Like he'd come all this way just to deliver evidence anyone could've brought. It's the perfect excuse to come visit your daughter, right, Director? Not that you really need one if you wanted to see her."
As Ziva opened her mouth to protest again, her father laid a hand on her shoulder. "You are quite right, Abby. I thought I would take advantage of the situation to make sure Ziva has settled well here as she has of yet failed to invite me to visit." He said this with a look at his daughter, one that made her blush and glance away, much to Abby's amusement and Tony's curiosity. "However, I must report to Director Vance's office. Perhaps we could all go out for dinner while I am here. I would love to know more about my daughter's life here in America and would be more than happy to answer any questions you may have about her childhood."
Ziva muttered something in Israeli, throwing her father a dark look but Eli David appeared to take it all in his stride as Abby smirked.
"That sounds great!" The black-haired scientist bounced on her feet. "Doesn't it, Tony?"
"What? Oh. Yeah." Tony returned to the conversation with an easy smile, pulling his gaze off Ziva to focus on Abby. "Dinner and little Ziva stories sounds like a winning combination to me."
"DiNozzo..." There was a warning note in her voice but Tony just grinned at her, leaving Ziva to make a noise that was part-growl, part-huff of expiration as she took hold of her father's arm and began forcefully escorting him from the lab. "I will ensure you get to Director Vance's office," she said, not giving her father a chance to protest. "I am sure you and he have much to discuss, long into the day and perhaps even the night. We shall all be too busy to dine out, I think."
"You hope!" Abby called after the departing pair, biting her lip against a giggle. She glanced at Tony when they were alone, an eyebrow arched at the expression on his face as he stared unseeingly at the empty doorway. She watched him for several seconds, a smile spreading slowly across her face before a giggle escaped, jolting him from his thoughts into the present. "You've got it bad." She snickered at the astonishment on his face, skipping away to the other side of the bench so she could rummage around in box number three.
"Excuse me?" Tony followed her slowly, trying to ignore the way his cheeks had heated at her teasing. "I have no idea what you're on about, Abby. Think maybe someone's had too many Caf-Pows."
Abby stuck her tongue out at him before a thoughtful expression appeared on her face. "Actually, I haven't had one yet. That's weird. I had a really, really, really strong cup of coffee for breakfast, though, so I guess that explains it but I'll be suffering withdrawal soon and with all of this evidence to process..." She sighed dramatically and turned to him with an exaggerated pout. "You'll be my favouritest person in the whole wide world if you got me one."
"Huh. After Gibbs, of course."
"Of course!" She looked serious for a moment, nodding her head. "After Gibbs but before anyone else if you get me a Caf-Pow..." She batted her eyelashes, the corners of her mouth turning upwards as an evil gleam glittered in her eyes. "I won't tell anyone you have a thing for Ziva if you get me one..."
"A thing for Ziva?" Tony spluttered, the look on his face comical. "Me? Nooooo... She's my partner..."
She stared at him sceptically. "You've been looking at her a lot lately," she pointed out knowingly. "And you get this dazed, almost out of it look on your face when she leaves a room, like you're hypnotised or something. You've always had a thing for her but since you guys got back to NCIS, you've more starry-eyed that normal. Don't get me wrong," she added, obviously on a roll, "I think it's really cute. You guys would make a fun couple and your kids would be gorgeous but one of you really needs to make a move soon because you know what this job's like. One minute everything's fine and the next, it's all gone to hell and someone's dead or dying. Life's too short, my friend. Seize the day! Carpe Diem!"
His hands on her shoulders stopped her from circling the bench again, holding her in place as he stared down at her in concern. "Are you sure you're okay, Abby? If someone's upset you, I'll beat them up for you. Unless it's Gibbs but I'd brave spilling his coffee if it'd make you happy."
"You would do that for me?" Abby threw her arms around him with such force he had to take a step backwards to keep from falling over. Her arms were still looped around his neck when she pulled back to look at him with a grin. "Thanks, Tony, but I swear, everything's fine. Well, not fine-fine but it will be. Especially when I get my first Caf-Pow of the day."
"Got it here, Abby." McGee paused a few steps into the lab, two brightly coloured containers in his hands, and stared at them as they disentangled themselves. "Gibbs said you'd need it to get through till lunch." He barely had a chance to lift his arms, saving the caffeinated drinks, when she flew at him, hugging him briefly though fiercely before grabbing the cups from his hands. "You're welcome."
Abby smiled and set one cup down next to her computer, sipping eagerly from the straw in the other as she walked back to the evidence. "You are my new favourite person, McGee, after Gibbs." She sighed appreciatively as she set the cup down. "Now you guys need to get out of here so I can get on with going through this stuff."
"Gibbs sent me down to help." McGee nodded at Tony. "Said you had five minutes to get back to your desk before he came looking for you himself, Tony."
"I'm going, I'm going." Tony stayed put for a moment, waiting until Abby had absorbed herself in sorting the evidence before starting to make his way out of the lab, pausing to lean close to McGee. "Keep an eye on her, Probie."
McGee gave him a small nod, concern shadowing his face before he, too, walked over to the evidence and quickly became engrossed. Rolling his eyes, Tony left the lab and the two science-minded members of the team behind.
The morning and a good chunk of the afternoon was eaten away by reviewing case files and evidence. Abby's machines were working overtime, having identified several sets of fingerprints and four different DNA samples and while her computer searched AFIS for a match, Abby and McGee sat at the computer in her office, reviewing the surveillance tapes Mossad had given them in the hopes of find some decent images of the men they were pursuing.
Upstairs in the bullpen, not a grain of wood was visible beneath reports, statements and surveillance photos, spread out across all of the available desk surfaces. Agent Mann sat at McGee's desk, talking quietly with a Mossad Officer Director David had brought with him while Tony and Ziva sat together at his desk, making notes on a file she was busy translating. Gibbs sat at his own desk, working by himself lost in his own world as he reviewed intelligence report after report, each leaving him slightly more unsettled than the last.
At half-past two, Gibbs stood up, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt at easing the knots forming in his tense muscles. He reached for the phone on his desk, hitting the button for the forensics lab as he picked up his jacket with his other hand.
"Hey, Abby. I'm going for a coffee run if you're interested." A brief smile appeared on his lips at her enthusiastic response. "See you in five." Hanging up, Gibbs looked over at Tony and Ziva to find his two agents hurriedly looking away. "DiNozzo, David, you want anything from the coffee shop?"
"Coffee, lots." Tony ran a hand through his head and leaned back in his seat. "And doughnuts. Lots of 'em." He glared at his partner when she hit him in the ribs. "Hey, I'm a growing boy!
"The only thing about that is still growing is your stomach." Ziva shook her head in disgust. "I would like some tea, please, Gibbs. Would you like help carrying it?"
The elevator doors opened and Abby emerged, black hair flowing behind her as she skipped over to them with her parasol in hand. "I think he's got that covered," Tony muttered, lowering his head to hide a grin as Abby quickly found Gibbs' arm and latched onto it with an adoring smile at their boss.
"Agent Mann, Officer Hasen?"
"I'll have a large coffee, thanks." Agent Mann gave him a quick smile before averting her gaze back to the file she was reading.
"As will I, Agent Gibbs." Officer Hasen smiled though it appeared his attention was focused on the unusual young woman on Gibbs' arm rather than the man himself. "Thank you."
"McGee wants coffee and anything we can find that's covered in chocolate," Abby informed Gibbs, letting him lead her away from the others. "Ducky said he's fine with the tea he's got brewing in my lab."
Gibbs gave her a slightly surprised look as they stepped into the already crowded elevator. "Ducky's helping out?"
With a nod at someone she knew at the back of the elevator, she settled in beside him, hand still resting in the crook of his arm. "He came in just after you called. Said another pair of eyes couldn't hurt."
They chose to say nothing more on the subject due to their audience, instead content to lapse into silence until they were walking out in the fresh air away from everyone else as they meandered slowly towards their favourite coffee shop.
"Does it still count as a date if we don't get to sit down?" Gibbs asked after a long pause, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He watched her as a thoughtful expression arranged her features, a light pink colour flooding her cheeks as she bit down on her bottom lip and seriously contemplated the question.
"We'll have to wait a while for the order to be ready," she pointed out eventually. "And it would make sense to sit down while we wait so we're not making it impossible for anyone else to reach the counter."
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning, something that was becoming more and more necessary in recent times. "That's very logical of you, Abby."
"Isn't it?" Sounding pleased with herself, Abby tilted her parasol to shade her pale skin from the sun's glare. "I think I'm going to tell the others about what we discussed in the Director's office," she said quietly as the coffee shop came into view. She felt his gaze on her face but stared straight ahead. "They know something's up and they're going to find out when Nick comes in for questioning... I'd rather tell them and get it over with than spend however long worrying them for no reason."
"Are you sure that's what you want?" His concern was evident in his voice. "It's personal, Abby, you don't have to share everything with them. Yeah, they'll need to know about Nick's involvement but the stuff with your father..."
One shoulder rose and fell under the black shawl she'd donned for the outing. "They're family. I trust them."
It was as simple and as complicated as that for Abby, Gibbs knew. She cared for everyone she met but let only a select few into her heart for keeps. His team were among those fortunate few and not for the first time, he found himself wondering if they knew how lucky they all were – himself included.
Slipping her hand from his arm so he could take it in his own, Gibbs said nothing as he led her into the coffee shop. He ordered their drinks first and paid for them, telling Abby to take them over to a table in the corner as he placed the order for the others waiting at NCIS and asked the cashier if they could get it ready in ten minutes. Joining her, he took the cup she slid across the table in one hand, reaching out to cover her own with the other.
"Holding hands," Abby murmured, her smile shy. "Definitely a date."
"Wish it could be longer," he said regretfully, running a finger over her knuckles.
She smiled softly, understanding shining in her eyes. "When this is all over, we can have as many long lunch dates as we want. In between cases, which probably means they'll be few and far between but that's okay. We'll make time for the important stuff." She turned her hand over beneath his. "Speaking of important stuff, I've been meaning to ask... Where did your other boat go? The one you named after Kelly?" She dropped her gaze when he sighed, not wanting to intrude but feeling the need to make sure the boat he'd most recently finished hadn't suffered the same fate as the others he'd made. "It was finished, right? But it's not in your basement anymore..."
"It's in storage," Gibbs answered softly. "Just needs to be put back together then it'll stay there."
Relief lit up her face. "You're not going to burn it?"
"I don't think I could," he admitted, turning the cup in circles with his spare hand.
"Good." She exhaled slowly and took a sip from her Caf-Pow. "I'm glad, Gibbs. It's a beautiful boat."
"I'll take you sailing in it someday." He hid a smile at her surprise behind his cup. "You don't get seasick, do you, Abby?"
She shrugged her shoulders and grinned. "That's something we'll have to find out." Her grin widened and her eyes danced with mirth. "Is it like being on a waterbed? My ex-boyfriend in college went through this phase where the only place he could do it was on his waterbed, which was interesting at first but got boring real quick..."
"Abby." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?"
She leaned forward, eyes sparkling with her red lips curved up into a devious, undeniably seductive smile when he opened his eyes to look at her. "Anything you want, Jethro." She watched his eyes darken and released a throaty chuckle, sitting back in her chair. "After the third date," she added somewhat demurely, tugging her hand free of his so she could fold both of hers in her lap.
He found himself grateful that the cashier chose that moment to call him back over to the counter, relieved to be leaving the suddenly too-warm coffee shop and heading back outside into the cool mid-afternoon breeze.
As Ziva predicted, the team were working well into the evening. Most of the team descended on the bullpen to eat the pizzas Tony had ordered and picked up but Abby remained in her lab, focused on watching the dizzying images pass by on her computer screen as it searched for a match.
She let her head rest in her hand and closed her eyes after a while, promising herself it would just be for a few minutes…
The shrill beeping startled her back into consciousness and she fought the pull of gravity to stay upright on her chair. She blinked several times, trying to clear the sleepy blur from her eyes.
Three faces stared back at her, all of them accompanied by a flashing red banner beneath their names.
All three were wanted by various agencies for crimes relating to national security.
She fumbled with the phone on her desk, clumsily hitting her speed dial. "Got three names for you, Gibbs. All of 'em listed as high risks by Homeland Security, the FBI and the CIA."
"Be right there."
They hung up together and Abby stood, stretching her arms above her head to work out the kinks in her back. She stared at the images on her screen, recognising one of them as being the man pictured with her brother in Venice. She let her fingertips rest against the keys on the keyboard, chewing her bottom lip as she wavered indecisively, torn between wanting to know everything and wanting to stay blissfully ignorant.
The decision was taken out of her hands when the bell of the elevator sounded, followed by both familiar and unfamiliar footsteps as the investigating team trouped into her lab. She turned to watch them approach, briefly wondering how so many people were going to crowd around the large screen on the wall. Gibbs moved to stand beside her, looking over her shoulder at the computer, while Tony, Ziva and McGee led the others around the computer desk to the larger screen.
"What've you got for us, Abby?" The sound of his voice so close did a little to ease the knots in her stomach and she turned her head slightly to give him a quick smile before answering.
"We've got three hits. The first," she moved the mouse pointer away from the man on the far-right, choosing instead to save him for last. "Simon Cross, former Lieutenant in the US Army. Dishonourably discharged in '97 while under investigation. Suspected of selling intel but there wasn't enough evidence to prosecute. He's on the watch-list for Homeland Security and CIA." She clicked out of his record and into the next candidates, the lone female on the screen. "Elanna Maslov, has joint citizenship for both Israel and Russia and has also applied for a greencard for the US on the basis of her recent marriage to Lieutenant Cross. Russian mother, Israeli father, both deceased…"
"Her father was a Mossad Officer," Director David supplied, a hard edge to his voice. "Elanna was, too, for a short time."
Ziva stared at the smiling brunette on the screen, her eyes narrowed speculatively. "I worked with her once," she murmured, mostly to herself. "She said she was considering leaving Mossad as she did not believe we were doing enough to protect our people. I thought she had died in the explosion that killed her father."
Director David nodded at Officer Hasen. "I want a copy of her personnel file," he instructed in Israeli. "Now."
Officer Hasen hurried out of the office, back up to the bullpen where his laptop was set up to access the Mossad database.
"Well, for a dead woman she's been keeping herself pretty busy." Abby's fingers danced over the keyboard. "Unlike her husband, who hasn't left the States for the last three months, Elanna has travelled to Israel, Russia, England and Iran in the last two months."
"Maybe she's just really into frequent flyer miles," Tony suggested, hands in his pockets. He barely flinched when Ziva hit him on the back of the head, glancing over his shoulder at Gibbs instead. "We should make it a rule, Boss, no one gets to do that but you."
"I'll take it under advisement." Gibbs let his hand brush against Abby's arm when he noticed her hand hesitated over the third hit. "Who's the other guy, Abby?"
Abby took a deep breath and brought the second man's record to the front of the screen. "Alexis Giovanni. Born in Italy, moved to the US with his mother as a kid. Several agencies have an interest in him but so far, they've not been able to make anything stick. He's a well known art dealer though Italian police have him on file as being a suspected drugs dealer and Homeland Security have him listed as being linked to several known terrorist groups. Looks like it's a financial thing; he's got no shortage of cash. Has several galleries, most in various European cities but a couple here in the US including one in DC." Her eyebrows rose and she minimised the screen, pulling up a search engine and typing quickly. A few seconds later and a black and white photograph appeared on screen, along with a series of dates and a venue address. Clearing her throat, Abby felt Gibbs put his hand on her back comfortingly. "There's a new exhibit opening at the DC gallery next week," she finished quietly. "Focusing on the photographic works of Nicholas Sciuto."
"Scuito?" Five heads whipped around to face her, with Director Vance following at a slightly slower pace.
The pressure of Gibbs' hand on her back increased. "My brother was photographed talking to Mr. Giovanni in Venice by Mossad Intelligence Officers." Abby cleared her throat and fixed her gaze on the black and white smile she knew so well.
"A coincidence," Agent Mann said kindly, breaking the silence after only a moment. "But maybe one we can use to our advantage."
Abby rewarded her with a grateful smile. "There's an official opening to the exhibit next week. I've got an invite and I'm sure Nick could get me a few more if you thought it would help."
"If he is using his art galleries as a base of operations, it would be useful to infiltrate it without arousing suspicion." Ziva glanced first at her father, then at Gibbs. "It would be a perfect opportunity to explore the premises without needing a warrant or alerting him to our investigation."
A troubled expression crossed over Gibbs face when Abby turned to look at him, waiting for his response. "How many invites do you think Nick can get?"
"I don't know. It's late now so I'll call him in the morning. I know my invitation is for me, plus one so depending on how many people you want going in, we might only need one or two more." Abby tried to meet his gaze, eyes narrowing when she realised he was avoiding it for a reason. "You don't want me to go."
"I didn't say that," Gibbs answered evasively. "But you're not a field agent, Abby. If the intel about this guy is right and they start to suspect we're not just art fanatics…" He eventually looked her in the eye. "It could get messy."
"It could, yeah, but I'm going. With or without you." She turned to face him fully, hands resting on her hips. She didn't need to glance behind to know that Tony, Ziva and McGee would be watching their exchange with unbridled interest while she suspected Agent Mann, Director David and maybe Director Vance had the good sense to appear as though they weren't paying them any undue attention. "You're talking about my brother, Gibbs. He's going to be there and so am I. That's not up for discussion."
Gibbs sighed and fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Didn't think it would be," he muttered under his breath. "Fine. You'll go with me. DiNozzo, you're with Ziva. McGee, you're with Agent Mann." He looked across the room to the two Directors. "If either of you turn up, they're bound to get suspicious."
"I agree, Agent Gibbs." Director David, however, appeared troubled as he looked over at Tony and Ziva. "I would, however, still like to take part in the operation."
"We can observe from MTAC," Director Vance offered. "There'll be eyes and ears on our people at all times." Having reassured his Mossad counterpart, Director Vance turned his attention back to the forensic scientist. "If you could send the information you have to MTAC and my office, Ms. Sciuto, it would be appreciated."
"I'll send it now." Abby stared at Gibbs for a few more seconds, clearly wanting to say something but not in front of an audience. Reluctantly, she turned back to her computer, typing in the commands that would copy the information and send it to the Director and the team in MTAC, who could forward it on to their sister agencies.
Director Vance and Director David left the lab, talking to one another in low tones, followed by Agent Mann, who spared a glance at Gibbs on her way out. McGee, Ziva and Tony lingered, none of them wanting to leave but not wanting to risk Gibbs' wrath if he thought they were trying to eavesdrop.
"Pack up and go home," Gibbs told them, not giving them a say in the matter. "Report back at seven sharp."
The tone of his voice left no room for arguments. Not even Tony felt the need to protest, nodding meekly at Abby in goodbye or sympathy, she didn't know.
"See you tomorrow, Boss, Abby."
The trio left hastily, all three throwing the pair speculative glances once they were sure Gibbs' attention was diverted back to the dark-haired woman in front of him.
Still staring at her computer screen, Abby sighed when she heard the elevator door close behind their friends. "I shouldn't have argued with you in front of the Directors. I'm sorry for that, Gibbs, but I'm not sorry for standing my ground. I'm going to the opening. I have to." She turned around when he put his hands either side of her on the desk. "He's my baby brother and if he's in trouble…" She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "I've been taking care of him since he was born. I can't stop now, not even for you."
"I wouldn't want you to but it's my job to take care of you." His hands moved from their position resting on the desk to rest on her hips. "I just got you back, Abs. I can't see you get hurt again."
She smiled in spite of herself, sliding her hands up his chest. One came to rest on his shoulder, the other played with the silver hair at the back of his neck. "I'm a big girl, Gibbs. I've been taking care of myself for as long as I can remember."
His eyes flashed with some emotion that disappeared too quickly for her to identify. "I know you can look after yourself but that doesn't stop me from wanting to do it, too."
"And I love you for that." She tilted her face upwards to press a quick kiss to his lips. "I have to ask, Gibbs… Would you feel the same way if I wasn't me? If I was Agent Mann, would you be this worried about my safety?" He paused for a long moment, perhaps too long in Abby's eyes. She sighed deeply and looked away, chewing on her bottom lip. "That's what I thought."
Gibbs touched her cheek, turning her face back towards him. His finger stroked along her cheekbone before his hand curled around the curve of her face, holding it in place as he moved slowly, stopping only when his lips hovered a hairs breadth from hers. "I wouldn't worry about anyone the way I worry about you, Abby. I haven't... Not since Shannon and Kelly..." He bridged the gap between them, gently pressing his mouth against hers for the briefest of moments. "I've lost people I love before, Abs. The thought of losing someone else... Losing you..."
She felt him shudder and her heart ached in response. When he drew back, she followed, pressing her lips against his. She teased his lips, her tongue sweeping into his mouth when he opened it for her, duelling furiously with his for dominance of the kiss. She kissed him with everything she had, everything she felt, pouring her heart and soul into it, her heart lifting when she felt him return her ardour just as fiercely.
He pressed her against her desk, the edge of which dug painfully into her back but she didn't complain; the thought didn't even cross her mind. She wound her arms further around his neck and stood on her toes, using the leverage to push back. One of her hands fisted in his hair, holding him in place so she could devour his mouth with hers. Gibbs retaliated, fisting one hand in her hair while the other pressed against her back between her shoulder blades, aiding her attempts at pushing against him while he pushed against her.
They were both left breathing heavily, clinging to one another as much for support as for comfort.
"Forget date three," Abby breathed against his lips, raking her fingernails over the nape of his neck. "Take me home, Gibbs."
His eyes searched hers, his breath ragged as he scoured her face for any sign of uncertainty, of doubt. Finding none, he swallowed hard. He nodded, wordless, and stepped back to allow her to switch off her machines, his darkened eyes following every move she made, counting down the minutes until they were safely ensconced within the four walls of his home.
The drive from NCIS Headquarters to Gibbs' house had ever taken so long. Abby sat beside him in the car, drumming her fingers against the skin of her leg, bare where her socks ended and her short skirt was yet to begin. The rhythm she drummed matched the beat of her heart, steady and unrelenting. It took all of her willpower not to lean across and place her hand on his thigh, to tell him to pull over so she could kiss him and satisfy the hunger growing inside.
When Gibbs pulled up on his drive, Abby barely waited until the car was stopped before opening her door, stepping out as gracefully as her tall boots and short skirt would let her. Gibbs met her at the front door, his blue eyes glinting in the streetlamps as he stared at her for a moment before turning away to unlock and open the entrance to his home.
The second they were both inside, the door was slammed shut and she found herself with her back pressed against it, unsure whether she'd pulled him to her or been pushed against it by his body before she'd had the chance. She felt his arms around her, lifting her even as their mouths met hungrily and wound her legs around his waist as her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close as possible.
She moved her hands from his neck after a few moments, her blood humming in her veins. Blindly, she reached for the buttons of his shirt, certain she'd popped more than a few off in her desperate attempts at getting them undone, needing to feel the heat of him against her without the confines of their clothes.
His own hands weren't idle, doing their best to undo the buttons of the white shirt she wore whilst still supporting her, holding her up against the door. His fingers brushed the swell of her breasts and he swallowed her gasp and while he was tempted to see if he could evoke the same response by repeating the gesture, Gibbs found himself forcing his hands to move, undoing the rest of the buttons so her shirt hung open and the lacy white bra she wore was revealed.
He pulled his mouth from hers to study her, the reactions of his body spurned on by the sight of her pressed against his door, lips swollen from his, make up slightly smeared as her chest heaved, her nipples pressing against the cup of her bra as her shirt hung open as if framing her, bearing her to his hungry gaze.
"You're beautiful," he murmured, half growling the words as his lips swiftly reclaimed hers. "So beautiful," he panted between kisses, hands wrapped around her waist, fingers alternately stroking and gripping the smooth skin bared to him.
His lips moved from hers, traversing along her jaw, down her throat. She let her head rest back against the door, gasping when he bit the spot where her neck and shoulders met, gasping when his lips moved soothing against the tender area.
"Gibbs... Jethro..." Her voice, throatier than normal, barely broke through the haze cast over his mind. "Please..."
He drew back, blue eyes dark to a degree she'd never seen before. Abby swallowed compulsively, her hands tightening on his shoulders.
"Upstairs," she whispered, green eyes sparkling luminously in the dim streetlight sneaking into the hallway from the world beyond. "I want to be upstairs. In your bed."
She wanted to replace the memories he had of the other women who'd come before her, to join their ranks but also mark his room as being her territory now and hers alone.
He didn't question her though he did wonder for a split second what was wrong with where they were. Then he looked at her, really looked at her, and his heart stopped.
Abby. She was Abby, and she was in his home, in his heart, and he knew there was nothing he could deny her.
They kissed as they made their way upstairs, shedding various items of clothing along the way, stopping to explore the newly revealed skin with hands and mouths, acquainting themselves with the taste and touch, committing it to memory to never be forgotten.
Abby almost cried in relief when she opened her eyes and recognised her surroundings as being his bed room. She felt the soft give of the mattress as he pushed her down on to it and moved as quickly as she could to the centre of the bed, eager to feel his body nestled against her own.
She didn't have to wait too long; Gibbs took a moment to survey her, chest heaving with his breaths as he studied her from head to toe. He took in her tousled hair, wild and free around her face, the pale skin of her body completely bared to him for the first time almost gleaming in the moonlight streaming through the open curtains. While he took his fill of her, Abby returned the favour and studied the defined chest she'd felt but never seen, cataloguing the scars marring his skin in the back of her mind, maybe to ask about later but maybe not.
Eventually she reached out a hand to him, green locking with blue as her eyes pleaded with him. He took her hand, letting her lead him down onto the bed and knelt with his knees cushioned against the blankets so he could kiss her again, slowly exploring her mouth with his tongue in a promise of what was to come.
Gibbs eased her back, fingers and lips leaving trails over her skin as he explored every inch of her body and claimed it as his own, erasing any and all trace of those who'd gone before. He kissed every tattoo revealed to him, tenderly tracing the lines with both fingertips and tongue, memorising the patterns etched in ebony against ivory skin.
Only when her body shifted restlessly beneath his ministrations did he make the journey back up, pressing his lips against the tattoo on her stomach on his way. He let his weight rest on his legs and one arm, gently turning her head with the other hand so he had full access to the healing skin of her neck, kissing the area devoid of her once beloved tattoo with such tenderness it brought tears to her eyes.
Loving him for the attention he bestowed upon her but impatient for more, Abby moved her hands to his shoulders, trailing her nails down his back. She shifted beneath him, wrapping her legs around him and using the leverage it gave her to pull his hips down to hers as she arched upwards.
Gibbs lifted his head, amusement evident in his eyes as he gazed down at her. One eyebrow rose in question and in answer she tightened her legs around him and dug her fingernails painfully into his shoulders. He grinned and leaned down to kiss her, savouring the moment for as long as he dared before giving into her demands to finish what they'd started.
A groan was dragged from her lips, an answering sigh escaping him. Their bodies joined, they moved together, hands caressing the skin that was within reach, at times teasing and at times desperate. Sensitive areas that elicited sighs and groans were committed to memory for future use as they continued their ascent.
Abby opened her eyes when she felt him tense above her, her fingers sliding over his sweat-slickened skin as she clung to him with a strength that surprised even her. She found him staring down at her, the love in his eyes for once unhidden and clear for all to see. She touched his cheek with one hand, smiling when he turned into the touch to press a kiss against her palm.
Maintaining eye contact, they began to move again. Gibbs fumbled for her hands, lifting her arms above her head and pinning them to the bed, lacing his fingers with his. He watched her eyes glitter in the dim light, her swollen lips parting as she gasped. He felt the first tremors begin within her and swooped down to claim her mouth, stealing her breath and swallowing the cry that escaped her as her body shuddered beneath and around his. His own released followed hers and he broke the kiss to bury his face in the crook of her neck, tasting the saltiness of her skin as he bit her neck hard enough to be felt but not so much as to break the skin.
His arms trembled, struggling to support his weight in his body's weakened state. Abby wound her arms around him and drew him down into her embrace, encouraging him to lie against her, his head coming to rest against the swell of her chest as he listened to her heartbeat and tried to catch his breath.
After several, long moments, Gibbs eased himself off her and rolled to the side, an arm circling her shoulders as she followed, throwing one leg over his as she curled up against him. Abby let her hand rest against his chest, fingers toying with the light smattering of hair on his chest as she sighed contentedly and pressed a kiss to his heart.
"Love you, Gibbs," she mumbled sleepily, only half-aware of him shifting to pull the top blanket of his bed over their rapidly cooling bodies.
Gibbs pressed a kiss to the top of her head, settling back against the pillows. "Love you, too, Abs." Her even breathing told him she was already sleeping and he promised himself he'd tell her again in the morning, letting his own eyes slide shut.
Sunlight streamed through the window, making him wish he'd taken the time to close the curtains the night before. A low-pitched chuckle close to his ear reminded him exactly why he hadn't bothered and he opened one eye to see the lips he'd been dreaming about curved up in a knowing smile.
"Morning." Abby smiled and shifted, a curtain of black hair falling over his face momentarily as she rose up above him and straddled his waist. He arched an eyebrow, noting that at some point during the night she'd picked up one of his t-shirts and lifted his hands to her hips, his thumbs tracing circles through the thin cotton. She laughed softly and leaned down to brush her lips teasingly against his, her green eyes dancing mischievously when she pulled away just as he started to respond. "My turn now, Gibbs." She let her hands rest against his chest, digging her fingernails in just slightly, her voice a low purr. "Just lie back and enjoy."
His hands itched to do more than rest idly on her cloth-covered skin but every attempt he made at moving them was met with a warning glance. Abby lowered her mouth to his once more, her lips blazing a trail from his mouth, down his throat, nibbling and soothing, tasting and kissing a path down to his chest.
She lavished equal attention on his nipples, smiling against his skin when he unsuccessfully tried to bite back a groan. She felt his hands move to her hair as she shifted lower, the t-shirt she wore rising with the act but he made no move to touch her other than to run his fingers gently through her tangled locks.
"Abs..." He hissed her name through clenched teeth, screwing his eyes shut at the sensations she evoked in him. One hand moved from her hair to clench in the tangled sheets at his side, his head pressed against the pillow.
Another throaty chuckle escaped her as she rose once more, gazing down at him with luminous eyes when he opened his own eyes to look at her. A slow, seductive smile curved up her lips as her hands moved to the hem of her t-shirt, lifting it inch by inch, revealing the skin he'd memorised the night before at a torturously measured pace.
"See somethin' you like, Gibbs?" Her smirk widened at the low growl that rumbled in his throat. "Y'know," she stopped with her arms crossed over her chest, the t-shirt only just covering her chest. "I can't decide if I should call you Gibbs or Jethro. Gibbs is my boss, sure, but he's also my silver-haired fox, my master... Jethro's a guy I don't really know yet..."
"Abs." Gibbs' hands gripped her bare waist, fingers tightening almost enough to leave bruises as his hips shifted beneath her. "I don't care what you call me."
She laughed, a full laugh full of warmth and amusement that affected him far more than it should. The smile she gave him was a typically flirtatious Abby-smile and he knew he was going to have a problem the next time she gave him that particular look in her lab. "Patience is a virtue..."
He growled again in response and she wiggled her hips deviously, arms rising to lift the t-shirt over her head, finally baring her body to his hungry gaze.
The t-shirt was discarded as the blue of his eyes darkened further, her hands returning to his chest as she pressed her lower body against his. She leaned in to capture his lips, tongue plundering his mouth eagerly as their bodies were joined once more.
Conversation went out of the window, the morning's silence punctuated with signs and moans and unintelligible whispers. Gibbs found his world centred around Abby; nothing else and no one existed beyond the walls of his bedroom, beyond the warmth of her embrace and the love shining in her eyes as she watched him from above. He traced the curve of her spine with his fingers, guiding her movements with a gentle touch.
When she eventually collapsed on top of him, both breathing heavily, Gibbs wound his arms around her, cradling her against him when she would have moved away. He pressed a palm against her back, tilting his head down when she craned her neck to look at him.
"In case you missed it last night," he murmured, using his spare hand to stroke her cheek tenderly. "I love you, Abs."
Her answering smile was worth any doubts he might have had about saying it too soon, as was the lingering kiss she bestowed on him in response. Lowering her head back to his shoulder when the kiss came to a natural end, Abby cuddled in him, content to stay there in his arms until the alarm went off and duty called once again.
The field agents were called into a conference with the two Directors and representatives from several other agencies to discuss their findings and plan their next moves. Abby remained in her lab, trying to concentrate on cataloguing the remaining evidence brought over from Israel.
Her focus wavered between recalling moments from the night before and worrying about her brother, who'd yet to return her phone calls. The first three times she hadn't worried; he was a photographer, a temperamental artist if ever there was one. She'd seen him throw his cell phone against the wall before when it'd interrupted what he'd thought was going to be the perfect shot. It was only when no one answered the home phone in New Orleans that a knot formed in her stomach; if Nick wasn't at home, Amanda Layton, her sister's full-time companion, should have.
Straightening her back, Abby reached for the phone again, pressing last number dialled with a gloved finger. The phone rang out five times before the answering machine switched on, her brother's low drawl filling her ear once more.
"It's me again. Could one of you please give me a call as soon as you get this? I'm really starting to freak out, guys!" She hung up with a frustrated sigh, replacing the cradle with more force than was strictly necessary.
"Problems, my dear?" Doctor Donald Mallard walked up to her, a question on his face. "Anything I can help you with?"
Abby gave him a quick, pleased smile, glad of the unexpected company. "Not unless you have a private line for my brother that I don't know about."
Ducky shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I do, however, have a spare pair of hands if there is anything I can do to help. I am completely at your disposal."
"Ooh, nice." She grinned and swung an arm around his shoulders. "No company at the morgue this morning?"
"I had one customer this morning but his appointment ended precisely one hour ago." He let her lead him to the bench, still scattered with bag upon bag of evidence. "You should consider asking for an assistant, my dear."
She gave him a look of horror. "After the last one? I'll pass."
A chuckle escaped him as he began to rummage through the clear bags. "Three years and countless applications to be your assistant have done little to erase the damage done by Mr. Sterling, I see."
"Not even three years of therapy could make me forget that," Abby muttered with an over-exaggerated shudder. "So, what do you feel like doing? I've got some unidentified substances to trace, always a favourite. Two sets of as of yet unidentified dried saliva lifted from unwashed cups taken from our gang's hideout – need to find out if there's anything particularly remarkable about them so I have a better chance at tracking them down. Or there's some old fashioned computer hacking if you're feeling technically minded today..."
Ducky grimaced and picked up the evidence bags containing the used cups she'd mentioned. "I believe this is more suited to my particular area of expertise. May I use your equipment or shall I return to the morgue?"
"My equipment is your equipment." She motioned to her lab with a hand, moving back to her computer with a sigh. "A little company and conversation might help me concentrate on the case. And keep from thinking up ways of getting revenge on my brother."
"If you're open to conversation, might I ask a question?" He settled himself across the lab from her and donned a pair of latex gloves.
Abby smiled and watched the monitor as her computer scanned the hard-drive of the laptop Mossad had given her. "Ask away, Duck-man."
There was a moment of silence as they both settled into their work. "It hasn't escaped my notice that you have yet to ask for assistance in moving your belongings back to your apartment."
"That's a statement, Ducky," she replied after a moment of silence. "Not a question. I'm not sure what you expect me to say."
"I don't wish to pry, Abby, nor do I particularly want the details..." He smiled a little at the noise of relief she made. "But you know I care about you, my dear, and Jethro is a good friend..."
"And you wouldn't be you if you didn't worry about one of us hurting the other." Abby spoke softly, affection in her voice. "So how can I assure you that my interest in our fearless leader is genuine?"
It was Ducky's turn to chuckle and shake his head in amusement. "I've known you for a long time, my dear. I have no doubt that your interests, as you put it, are entirely real. As are Jethro's. My concern is not whether or not you have feelings for one another but feelings alone aren't always enough to make a relationship work. Jethro isn't like the men you've dated before..."
"I wouldn't want him to be. That's kind of the point." Abby twisted on her stool, staring at the back of Ducky's head, willing him to turn around and smiling when he did. "I'm not like the women he's dated – or married – before, either. But I love him and for some reason, he loves me. I don't know how long we're going to be together but I plan on enjoying every moment we've got till it ends."
"That is my concern, my dear." Ducky leaned forward slightly, hands resting on his knees as he gazed at her. "Not that it's going to end because I honestly believe you have a strong chance at succeeding where all three of his ex-wives failed. You're both too stubborn to give up, which is what I think Jethro needs in a partner. It concerns me that you've entered into this relationship in a vulnerable state of mind. For some reason I cannot fathom, you don't believe you're good enough for him – just as he doubts he's good enough for you. You went through a traumatic ordeal, Abby. I would hate for your relationship to be tarnished because you both entered into it as a way of avoiding having to deal with the consequences of what you went through."
Abby blinked in surprise, her eyebrows lifting. "I didn't enter into this as a way of ignoring what happened to me. My feelings for Gibbs were there a long time before Steven Laffiter decided to make me his own little experiment."
"I know that, Abby, but you can't tell me you've dealt with the issues you have as a result of your abduction. I don't want you to hide behind your relationship with Jethro and avoid dealing with those issues." Ducky motioned to her with a hand, his eyes soft. "Have you been out of Jethro's reach since it happened, my dear? Have you considered meeting friends and going out to a bar or a club? I've also noticed you have yet to let your neck be shown since the removal of your tattoo. You told Mr. Laffiter your tattoos did not define you but your actions belay that."
A hand rose to touch her neck, hidden once more by loose hair and a silk neck scarf. She fingered the material around her throat, toying it as she acknowledged his concern. "Gibbs is the one who doesn't want me to go too far," she said eventually. "Not that I've put up much of an argument," she admitted quietly.
"I know, and that's something Jethro needs to deal with." Ducky got up and crossed the lab, setting a hand on her slumped shoulder. "Don't let him win, Abby. You stood up to him when he was alive, you can stand up to him now he's dead."
Tears shimmered in her eyes. "It's hard, Ducky. I look in the mirror and I expect it to be there and it's not and every time I do, it makes me remember being in that damn house."
"You are no longer his prisoner, Abigail." He squeezed her shoulders. "Every time you look in that mirror, you tell yourself that. Remind yourself that you are stronger than he anticipated; you survived."
She gave him a watery smile, wiping the moisture from her cheek. "You think I should move back into my apartment?"
"Not necessarily." He smiled down at her with a father's affection – and a father's concern. "The evolution of your relationship was inevitable. You're both adults, Abby, and while I don't wish to know the details of your relationship, I am aware that it has progressed at quite an accelerated rate. Just... don't change, Abigail. Jethro loves you for who you are, as do the rest of us."
Abby stood and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, Ducky."
He patted her back, holding her securely for several minutes until she'd composed herself enough to get back to work. Ducky walked back to his desk slowly, glancing at her over his shoulder when he heard a slight rustling sound.
As he watched, she undid the neck scarf and set it to the side, picking up two hair bands as she did so. She parted her hair and created two low pony tails, tying them as neatly as she could without either a brush or a mirror to guide her.
The phone rang twice before she answered and, when she did, she sounded distracted – almost annoyed at the interruption.
"Call you at a bad time, sis?" Nick Sciuto twirled the cord of the phone between his fingers, a lopsided grin arranging his lips as he glanced at the two women sitting opposite him.
"Nick! Where the hell have you been? I've been calling and calling and calling..."
He held the phone away from him for a moment, waiting till she stopped berating him before putting back against his ear. "Sorry, Abs. Got caught up in work – you know how it is. You still gonna be at the showing on Saturday?"
"Of course!" She laughed, almost nervously, he thought. "As if I'd miss it! That's what I was calling about. I was wondering if I could get a few more invites for some friends of mine."
"You have friends interesting in real art?" Nick spoke teasingly, his eyebrows rising. "I thought tattoos were the extent of their interest in anything creative... That and the strange so-called music you love."
"Hey, not all of my friends are like that. Besides, you never know where inspiration for the next tattoo will come from... Maybe one of your weird photos will inspire some new, fantastic bit of body art."
"Each to their own, I guess." Nick closed his eyes against the looks he was getting. "It's been too long, Abs. When was the last time we saw each other?"
"When was the last time you decided to settle in one place and not go gallivanting around the world in the never-ending search for inspiration?" His sister's voice softened. "It has been a while, though. It'll be good to see you again, Nicky."
"Geez, Abs, don't call me that. Makes me feel like a kid again."
"You are a kid, Nicky. You're always gonna be my kid brother, therefore always a kid to me. And you are the baby of the family, hon. Nothin's gonna change that unless you invent a time-machine and somehow get Gloria to have you first."
"If that was possible, I'd consider it." Nick opened his eyes at the sound of a chair shifting and his amusement died. "So you'll be there on Saturday, and you want a few extra invites waiting at the door?"
"Two, please. Gotta show my little brother off while he's in town, right?"
His face flooded with heat, either from embarrassment or shame, Nick couldn't tell. "I'll see it's taken care of, Abs. I've gotta go, things to do..."
"I'll see you soon, Nick. Love you."
A lump rose in his throat and he closed his eyes again. "Love you, too, Abby. See you." Nick disconnected the phone with a heavy heart, setting the receiver down in its cradle with a heavy sigh. He opened his eyes and met those of the man standing between his lover and his sister, the gun in his hand glinting in the overhead lights. "She'll be there on Saturday."
Alexis Giovanni grinned, using the barrel of his gun to stroke the cheek of Sophie Sciuto as the frightened young woman whimpered, unable to hear what her brother had said but knowing from the look on his face that whatever it was, was bad. "The boss will be very pleased to hear that," Giovanni responded, his eyes gleaming with delight.
"Are you going to tell us who your boss is now?" Nick glared at him, his hands moving rapidly as he signed to his sister, telling her not to be afraid even as fear gnawed at his own gut – fear for himself, for the women sitting opposite him and for the woman he'd helped set up for something. "And why he's so interested in my family?"
Giovanni found something about his question funny as he tipped his head back and laughed, making Amanda, the pretty blond sitting next to his sister, flinch. "You will be told when he decides it is time. Until then, you should make yourself comfortable, Mr. Sciuto. Your adoring public awaits."
Nick kicked his bound feet, glaring at the gun pointing at the back of his sister's head. He'd never felt so helpless before, nor so ashamed. He knew he was responsible for whatever happened, to Sophie, Amanda and Abby. He'd been the one to connect with Alexis Giovanni, to disclose so much information about the women in his life. He'd welcomed the man into his home, thinking that maybe, just maybe, his time to be in the spotlight had come.
Maybe it had, he mused, swallowing hard, but for all the wrong reasons.
They had just over two days to plan what they were going to do, process the rest of the Mossad evidence and find out as much as they could about the potential targets they needed to keep an eye out for at the gallery's opening. Everyone was kept busy, with even the Director's mucking in, assisting their field agents wherever they could.
By all rights, they should have all been exhausted by Friday night, the night before the big op was due to happen, but they were all unable to sleep, too revved up for various reasons.
Ziva could never sleep the night before an operation, anticipation drumming in her blood, making her twitchy if she tried to stay still. Tony, too, was on edge, wanting to it to start, wanting to get into the thick of the action. The partners decided to retire to the NCIS gym, sparring with one another until they were too exhausted to do anything but catch a few hours sleep wherever they could find a flat surface – usually behind their desks or in Abby's lab if one of them was able to get to the futon she kept in her office before McGee or the scientist herself.
The pair slunk back to the bullpen after showering and settled at their desks, both aching but both happier for it.
"Tomorrow will be fine," Ziva murmured, mostly to herself as she settled in her chair and propped her feet up on her desk.
"Never said it wouldn't, Ziva." Tony sat in his own chair, glancing around the nearly deserted bullpen before he got himself comfortable for the night. "Your Dad gone back to his hotel?"
Ziva closed her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. "He and Director Vance had some business to discuss. They went out to dinner at his hotel, yes."
"Aww, it's cute. Dad's all worried about you."
She snorted indelicately. "My father has not worried about me since I was a child. He knows I am able to take care of myself."
"That's because he taught you well." There was a faintly disapproving note in his voice and while he settled into his chair to sleep, Ziva sat up straight and stared at him.
"What are you implying, Tony?" She demanded sharply.
Tony opened one eye, surprised at the defensive tone. "I'm not implying anything, Ziva. I just think maybe your Dad should've let you had more of a childhood instead of putting pressure on you to follow in his footsteps."
"He did no such thing. I chose to join Mossad, Tony. My father did not force me." It wasn't the indignation that made him sit upright; it was the hurt he could detect beneath it. "He was a good father."
"A good father who missed his daughter's dance recitals." His voice was sympathetic but his eyes blazed with anger, taking her aback. "A father who couldn't or wouldn't make time for her until she joined his precious agency and worked her fingers to the bone, nearly killing herself in the process I'm guessing, to become one their best assets. You shouldn't have had to do that, Ziva. A father's love is supposed to be unconditional, not based on what he can get out of it."
Ziva stared at him, her brow furrowed. "You are angry... for me? Your father was not there for you yet you are angry at mine because you feel he treated me badly? My father did not disown me, Tony, nor did he refuse to acknowledge my existence because I disappointed him."
"Because you've never disappointed him, Ziva. You put your life on the line so you don't disappoint him and he doesn't have a problem with that. That's what annoys me and makes me angry. He has no idea what a wonderful woman you are, just that you're damn good at your job and even then he'd take credit for it if you asked." Tony cut himself off, cursing inwardly. He crossed his arms over his chest and propped his feet up on the desk, leaning back and closing his eyes to signal the conversation was over. "Just saying you deserve better, that's all. Gotta get some beauty sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day."
She remained sitting for a long time, unable to tear her gaze from the obscured view she had of him, wondering why he cared so much for her missing childhood – and why it mattered so much to her that he did.
Also unable to sleep, Abby lay awake staring at the ceiling of the room that was quickly becoming hers as much as the man lying beside her. She eased out from under his arm, hesitating at the change in his breathing. She exhaled slowly when he remained asleep, sliding out from under the blankets and up from the bed as carefully as she could.
The t-shirt she'd taken to using as a nightshirt lay where she'd discarded it – with his help – on the floor and she put it on quickly, shivering in the cool night air. Careful to make as little sound as possible, Abby crept out of the room and down the stairs, heading straight to the basement where she knew Gibbs found the most solace.
For the first time since moving into his house, Abby found herself wishing for her coffin. There was nothing more comforting to her than secluding herself in the dark box, confident that no one could hurt her when she was confined within the custom made box. It was the one possession she treasured that hadn't made it to Gibbs' home and she wondered if it'd be welcome if she – they – decided against her moving back to her apartment.
The light of the basement stung her eyes when she first turned it on but she adjusted quickly and made her way down the steps, watching where she put her bare feet.
For a moment she contemplated working on his boat, getting her sanding block – the one he'd made especially for her – but talked herself out of it; if she sanded the existing planks anymore than she had already, they'd be non-existent and just need replacing. Instead, she settled for getting the blanket he kept folded over a shelf in the corner of the room, wrapping it around her as she sat down at the stool next to the bench where he kept his tools.
She didn't know why she couldn't sleep; she'd tried telling herself she was just excited about seeing her brother and worried about the danger he might be in but telling herself that everything was going to be okay didn't help her follow Gibbs into a peaceful slumber. She thought about what Ducky had said to her in her lab a few days before and wondered if that was why she couldn't sleep, if she was worried there was some truth in his words and that her relationship with Gibbs would be doomed practically from the start if she didn't start facing her fears and living her own life again.
It wasn't that she was letting her fear hold her back, Abby reasoned with a sigh. She was enjoying spending time with Gibbs outside of work, enjoying the perks and privileges that came with any new relationship just as any woman in love would. The thought of going out with her friends did appeal but, at the moment, the thought of spending time alone with Gibbs appealed more. She loved Ducky for his concern but at the same time she wished he'd kept his thoughts to himself for just a little bit longer, letting her enjoy the first few weeks of passion-fuelled bliss without the need for overanalysing it.
She'd started wearing her hair in pony tails without the need for scarves to hide the barely-there scar and had been surprised at the amount of people who'd commented that they'd missed her look. She wondered if there was anything else about her they missed, if she'd changed in some other way she hadn't realised or let herself consider.
"Abby?"
She tilted her head in the direction of the stairs but made no other move to acknowledge him. She burrowed further into the blanket wrapped around her, seeking the comfort the soft material could offer.
"Hey." Gibbs took the steps two at a time, all traces of sleepiness leaving his face when he caught his first glimpse of her. "You okay?"
"Can't sleep." She forced a smile, letting it fall when she saw he didn't buy it. "Do you think we're doing this wrong?"
"Doing what wrong, Abs?" He stood behind her and leaned against the bench, massaging her shoulders through the blankets. "Am I missing something?"
Unable to help herself, she let a moan to escape at the feel of the tension giving under the pressure of his fingertips. "Just something Ducky said. He's worried I'm not dealing with things right, that it's going to make our relationship harder because we started it so soon after everything with Laffiter." She tilted her head to let him get better access, shrugging the blanket down passed her shoulders. "Thinks you need to deal with it, too."
"Me?" He paused for a split-second. "I wasn't the one being held against my will by a guy with a grudge."
"No," she agreed quietly. "But you're the one who feels like you should've been there to protect me, like you should've been able to stop it from happening. You're the one who doesn't want me out of reach in case something bad happens again." She sighed when his hands dropped from her shoulders, knowing she'd hit a nerve. "You can't spend the rest of your life keeping tabs on me, Gibbs. You're gonna have a case that takes you away from DC and I'll be waiting for you to get back, helping solve it from afar."
His jaw was clenched when she glanced at him over her shoulder. "We'll deal with it when it happens. Ducky has no right to put more pressure on you, Abby. I'll have a talk with him tomorrow..."
"No, don't." Turning on the stool, Abby pulled the blanket around her shoulders once more, a chill assaulting her that had nothing to do with the temperature in the basement and everything to do with the thought of coming between the two old friends. "He's right, Gibbs. We do have to deal with what happened so we can get over it and move on – together. I was thinking maybe you could teach me how to use a gun properly. I know I can use one in the lab but hitting a moving target's a whole other story. And maybe I could take self-defence lessons or something." She stared up at him with big eyes. "I don't want you to have to stop doing the things you like because you're worried about me. I don't want you to feel like you've gotta have me around all the time because I'm some kind of liability. You'll get sick of me, Gibbs, you'll want time to yourself or to go see Ducky or play poker with your friends and then what'll happen?" She stood when he looked like he was about to protest. "I'm going to feel like going out with my friends eventually and as much as you tolerate my music at work, I'm so not going to drag you to a club or concert you're going to hate to make me happy. It'll make both of us feel better if I know how to take care of myself."
"I'll teach you how to use a gun but I don't want you carrying a weapon if it can be avoid." He put a finger to her lips when she frowned. "Too many people die after having their own weapons used against them, Abby. You're not going to be one of those statistics." A heavy sigh escaped him. "Which is why you'll start taking self-defence classes with me and the others. Ziva can teach you a lot, and I'm sure DiNozzo and McGee won't want to miss the opportunity to lend a hand as long as they don't get too grabby."
Abby beamed at him, relief showing on her face. "They wouldn't dare. They value their lives too much." She wound her arms around his neck, blanket falling to the floor as its comfort was abandoned in favour of the warmth she found in Gibbs' arms. "When can I have my first lesson?"
"As soon as we've got time," he promised, running his hands over her cloth-covered curves when he felt her shiver. He let his head rest atop of hers and held her close, inhaling the scent of her and the lingering smell of sawdust that was always present in his basement, two of the things that offered him the most comfort. "Time to get some sleep, Abs."
To his relief, she didn't protest, letting him lead her from the basement upstairs to their room. He settled in beside her, still dressed in his sweat pants and t-shirt and wrapped his arms around her, partly to help keep her warm and partly to ensure she couldn't sneak away from him to brood without him knowing. After a matter of minutes, she was asleep against him, curled up as was her way but sleep was a long time in coming for Gibbs, who couldn't shake the feeling that had woken him up in the first place.
Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.