Chapter 3
*Previously*
"Abby?"
"Director Shepard," she bounced on the balls of her feet, her voice far too chipper for her taste, for the late hour, for the situation.
The redhead stepped towards her, keeping the door open, "Are you alright, Abby?"
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes as she looked up at the woman.
"Rule 28," she said, her voice shaky.
She expected to be turned away, but instead Jen held out her hand, a gentle smile on her face, "Come inside, Abby. I've got you."
She took her hand.
The Director's Georgetown mansion was a safe haven, and as she stepped into the hallway, the remaining chill from outside slowly ebbed from her body. An overhead light illuminated most of the hallway. Her eyes took in the closed study door, the grandfather clock against the wall, and the staircase that led to the second level without really seeing it. She'd been here once before to bring over a report she'd forgotten to put in a case file. In her mind's eye, she could picture the Director's study: old paintings her father had collected, a medium bookshelf against the wall when you first walk in, a large cabinet next to the rarely-used fireplace, a desk straight ahead with a lamp, a plush chair on each side of the room for reading, a work chair behind the desk, and a sizable alcohol collection to the right, mostly bourbon and imported wines; it was cozy, a place she'd imagined the redhead going after a long day of work to relax or to work on quiet weekend mornings. She'd never ventured into the other rooms of the mansion, but she could imagine how beautiful they were.
She turned to face the redhead, letting go of her hand almost as an afterthought. Dark, jade-green eyes moved over her face and settled on her throat, and she could make out the simmering anger that swirled beneath the surface. Sure, she could still feel Mikel's hands on her throat, but she hadn't thought he'd left a mark. If he had, that was going to be another thing she needed to cover up. At least when he beat her before, it was always where no one else could see. She swallowed roughly, trying to keep the tears at bay, and that snapped the older woman out of her trance, her eyes softening as she took in her appearance. She had to look horrible.
The redhead guided her towards the front room with a hand on her back. She was grateful for the silence. The front room was open concept, connecting to the kitchen. A fireplace was against one wall; the flames cast a warm glow over the coffee table. She stopped in the doorway abruptly. Several documents were scattered on the table, a glass of wine sitting on a coaster. She was interrupting.
"You're busy. I can go."
"I just wanted a change of scenery. The study can get repetitive," her voice was gentle, the hand on her back light; she met the Director's eyes, trying to figure out if she was being truthful. She used to be able to tell right away, "Come have a seat and relax."
She sat on the couch and watched her boss pick up the stack of files and leave the room. She heard the study door open and then close again a few seconds later. Her mind was a mess. She had no idea why she'd decided to come here. She and the Director weren't that close, not as close as Kate and Ziva were, but she still considered her a friend. But having only been here on work-related matters, she had no idea how to act.
When the Director appeared in the doorway again, the light from the fireplace illuminated her features, and she felt her face heat up. Ok, so maybe she had the tiniest crush on the woman. Sure, she was sexy and the way she looked at her sometimes gave her a weird tingly feeling in her stomach, and ok she was hot but – oh, there were so many buts – but she was Gibbs' ex, but she wasn't even sure the woman liked her, but the Director avoided the lab unless strictly necessary, never without the guise of work. And ok, that made sense, she oversaw the entire agency, she didn't have time to chat. Even so, the Director didn't seem like the type of woman to toss an employee out on the street. Or maybe she did; to be honest, she wasn't that sure. Despite the adrenaline rush and the events of the night, there was still alcohol in her system, and her mind was a bit foggy.
"Director Shepard…"
"Abbs," the use of the nickname made her pause, "we're not at work, you don't need to be so formal. You can just call me Jenny, alright?"
She nodded, "Yeah, alright," She chewed on her bottom lip, staring at the flickering flames, "Jenny, we don't really know each other that well. Why'd you let me in?"
"Because you asked for help, Abby," she looked over at the redhead as she sat beside her, "Did you expect me to turn you away?"
"I don't know," she answered honestly, "I've never just shown up like this before."
Jenny smiled, "No, you haven't, but more than my employee, you're also my friend Abby," She stood and patted her leg gently, "I need to make a couple calls, so I want you to relax. Do you want something to drink?"
"I'm alright," she replied, smiling slightly. She watched the Director leave the room before she sat back and closed her eyes. It wasn't long before she drifted off to sleep.
"Abbs? Abby?"
"Hmm?" she muttered, half-asleep.
"Abbs, wake up."
"Gibbs?" she blinked slowly, forcing her body to wake up. He was kneeling beside the couch, softly stroking her hair. She met his eyes instantly, and a small smile slipped onto his face, "Gibbs, what are you doing here?"
"Rule 28," he replied.
She sat up slowly, looking around for a clock. 1:25. She'd only been sleeping for about 15 minutes. Gibbs lived at least another 15 away.
"Gibbs," she frowned, "how many traffic laws did you break?"
"Not enough," he replied, sitting on the couch beside her, "could've been here faster."
"Jenny called you."
"Yep."
For a moment, she felt betrayed. She knew that the Director wouldn't keep what had happened a secret from Gibbs, but she had thought – had hoped – she would wait until the morning. But another part of her was relieved. Relieved that she'd called, that he'd gotten here so fast. He wrapped his arms around her, and she sighed as she fell into him, "I'm sorry. I let it all get out of hand, Gibbs. I should've come to you when he first touched me."
"The night after the bar."
"No," she answered and felt his body go rigid, "A couple weeks after he moved in, after the Callahan case. But then he stopped until the night at the bar, I swear, Gibbs."
"How long?" She licked her lips, and he stroked her cheek softly, "How long has he been hurting you like this, Abby?"
"A little over a month."
"Never again," and she wasn't sure if he was talking to her or himself. He released her slowly and stood, "I'm going to have a chat with the Director while Ducky checks you over."
"Ducky?"
"Mhmm, Director called him too."
Ducky entered the room, and Gibbs patted him on the shoulder as he passed.
"Hi, Ducky."
"Hello, my dear," Ducky smiled warmly at her as he sat beside her, placing his medical bag on the floor by his feet, "If you'd please take off your shirt so I can examine you," she started to remove her shirt, and relaxed slightly as Ducky started to tell one of his stories.
As she finished putting her shirt back on, she looked at Ducky, frowning softly, "I thought he loved me, Ducky."
He smiled sadly at her, squeezing her hand, "The people who love you won't ever hurt you like this, Abigail."
"I know," she replied.
"You need to take it easy for a couple days. I recommend taking Monday and Tuesday off work too."
Her eyes widened slightly, "I can't do that, Ducky. I have so much work to catch up on."
"You need to let your body rest. I'll allow you two Caf-Pows a day, but no more than that."
"But –"
"No buts, Abigail. The caffeine will only make it harder to fall asleep," he stood and squeezed her leg reassuringly, "only for a few days until you've healed."
"All good in here?" Jenny questioned as she and Gibbs appeared in the doorway.
"Yes, yes, just offering Abigail some doctorly advice."
"Thanks, Duck," Gibbs stepped further into the room.
"Think nothing of it. I'll see myself out. And Jethro, we should really have a talk about your driving."
Gibbs smirked, "Good night, Duck."
Jenny followed him to the door, insisting that she at least show him out. She took a deep breath, looking up at her silver-haired fox. He smiled down at her, holding out his hand to help her up.
"Come on, I'm taking you home."
"Gibbs, you have better things to do than babysit me."
"You don't need to be alone tonight, Abbs." She knew he was right, but she didn't want to be a burden. "Hey, hey," she looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes, "I'm not going to force you to come with me, but I don't want you to be alone."
"Can I just stay here if the Director doesn't mind?"
"Mhmm," he pressed a kiss to her hair; she smiled softly, "What do you think, Madame Director? Wanna let Abby crash on your couch?"
Jenny chuckled softly, stepping into the room, "How about you take the guest room, Abby?"
"Alright."
"Come on, I'll show you."
The guest bedroom was as beautiful as the rest of the house. The walls were painted a rich red, and a dresser sat against one wall, the bed on the other, a bedside table beside it with a lamp and a clock. She set her phone on the table, sliding into bed. Once she was settled, she felt herself relaxing into the cool sheets.
"Thanks again, Jenny."
"You're welcome, Abby." She was asleep before the Director closed the door behind her. She didn't hear her phone vibrate with incoming calls and texts.
2:00 Missed call (17): Mikel M.
2:01 New Text (14): Where are you, Abby?
2:05 Missed call (25): Mikel M.
2:06 New Text (19): You're going to regret not answering me, Abby.
A/N: Please review!
