Author's Note: Here's a little more. :) Thanks for sticking with me!
The rest of the week passes far too quickly for Gibbs' liking.
An uneasy peace has settled between he and Abby – he visits her lab as normal, listens to her babble and hands over Caf-Pow! rewards, but there's a reserved edge between them. He analyses her constantly, attempting to figure out the reason for her decision to leave. She's well aware of that fact, and pointedly ignores it. Neither of them acknowledges the conversation they had at her apartment.
Friday dawns bright and clear, a direct antithesis to Gibbs' mood. When he visits Abby's lab sometime mid-morning, there are balloons, teddy bears, black roses and Caf-Pow! cups strewn everywhere; Abby is popular amongst her colleagues.
"That's a lot of Caf-Pow!," Gibbs remarks, setting his offering down at the edge of the congregation of super-sized cups.
Abby propels herself across the room on her desk chair, picks up the cup he's just put down, and takes a sip. "Each and every one appreciated, but yours more than most."
Biting back a smile, he pushes her back behind her desk, then leans over her shoulder. "What do you got?"
"You mean, aside from enough Caf-Pow! to keep me awake until Christmas?" She shoots him a quick grin, then focuses. "Carpet fibres."
He listens to the cadence of her voice as she reports her findings; the way it speeds up as she goes off-topic, or too far into the topic; the gravelly, amused undertones and the slightly incredulous lilts. On one level, he still can't come to terms with the fact that, come Monday, she won't be here; that he'll obtain his reports from a stranger.
"Nice work, Abbs." He leans in and kisses her cheek, because it might be the last time.
As he turns to leave, she speaks his name, and he hesitates, looking back at her. "Are you coming out with us after work?" she asks tentatively, as if afraid he'll turn the invitation down.
He nods. "For the couple of hours before you move on to the clubs."
Her smile is a little regretful. "You know me too well."
Choosing not to remind her that he still can't fathom her reason for leaving, Gibbs resumes his path to the elevator.
Half the Navy Yard turns out for Abby's farewell drinks. When she's not mingling, hugging well-wishing colleagues goodbye and accepting free drinks, she sticks close to Gibbs and his team.
"Is it just me, or does Abby seem more… sad to be leaving than happy?" Tony watches her thoughtfully, and the rest of the team follow his line of vision.
"It is hard to leave so many friends and colleagues behind," Ziva says, taking a sip of her mojito.
"Once she gets out there, she'll be fine," Ducky agrees. "It can be hard to remember one's reasons for a decision, when facing the negative consequences."
"Gonna miss her," Palmer says, and on that point, everyone agrees.
Gibbs just sips his bourbon and listens to the conversation around him.
"Boss is quiet," McGee murmurs, when he thinks Gibbs is out of earshot. "Think he's taking Abby's decision harder than any of us."
"They've known each other almost as long as Jethro and I have," Ducky says. "It's hardly surprising."
As Gibbs predicted earlier in the day, after a couple of hours Abby announces she's moving on to a club around the corner. Most people choose to bid her farewell at this point, and for a while Gibbs can't even make her out through the crowd of agents and support staff. After a while, only a small group of Navy Yard employees remain, including Ziva, Tony, McGee and Palmer. Gibbs and Ducky are the last to bid Abby farewell.
"Ducky…" Her eyes are full of tears as she gives him a tight squeeze. "Thank you for everything. I don't know what I would have done without you and Emma."
"Make the most of it, and give that niece of mine a hug from me, my dear." Ducky smiles up at her fondly.
"I will." Rubbing moisture from her eyes, she looks over at Gibbs, and he steps forward to pull her into a hug without stopping to think about it, stroking her hair as a sob escapes her chest.
"Need a lift to the airport?" he asks, as she draws back.
She seems surprised that he's offered, and nods, after a second's pause. "Thanks, Gibbs."
After another round of hugs and a few more tears, she's ready to move on. Together, Ducky and Gibbs watch Abby leave the bar, and the rest of the agents follow her, until they're the only two left.
"Another drink, Jethro?"
"Wouldn't say no, Duck."
Together, they return to the booth they've been sitting at, and Gibbs raises an eyebrow. "You know I'm gonna ask."
Sighing, Ducky sips his Scotch. "I thought it'd be sooner, to be perfectly honest. Go on, then. Ask."
"Do you know why she's leaving?"
Ducky shakes his head slowly. "Of all the questions, that's the one I'm least sure of the answer to. I did ask her, but I never got a straight answer."
"When did she come to you?" Gibbs asks.
"Six months ago, give or take. She was asking a lot of questions about Edinburgh University; its reputation, its night-life… When she got around to telling me she'd been accepted there, I was rather surprised."
Irritated, Gibbs demands, "And you never got around to telling me because-?"
"She asked me not to. And contrary to your team's belief, Jethro, it's not your business to know everything that goes on."
"She's one of my people."
"She didn't want you to know. She didn't want any of you to know." Ducky shakes his head ruefully. "If not for my connection to Edinburgh, I doubt she would have let me in on it, either."
"Why would she go behind our backs? Abby's not the type to make big decisions quietly, and we both know it." Gibbs downs his bourbon, frustrated, and leans back in his seat. "She's hiding something, Duck."
"That would be my assessment, as well," Ducky muses, inspecting the dregs of his drink as if they hold the answers he seeks. "But I'd venture that it's for personal reasons, rather than anything more ominous or questionable. Don't get the bit between your teeth with this one, Jethro. You'll only make her more stubborn."
"That your psychological analysis?"
"Partly analysis, and partly my gut." Ducky smiles slightly as Gibbs rolls his eyes. "You're not the only one with instincts, lest you forget."
Gibbs nods, conceding the point, and asks the most important question. "Think she'll come back to us?"
"Well… two years is a long time, and Edinburgh is a lively place. But I think our Abigail has a strong sense of home, and NCIS is very important to her."
"Not important enough," Gibbs murmurs.
