IV.
-x-
When I see Abby the next day, it's not in the lab, but I am still at her apartment.
"You mind staying with me? Today? Tonight? I mean, just staying, nothing else. I'm still a bit afraid," she told me when I was about to leave. So I stayed. And only stayed. In the morning I leave for my hotel to change and have a shower and we meet at the lab again.
Abby has already started to see through the evidences of the case they want my help with, and there's a stack of files waiting for me. We work by ourselves for most of the day. When in the afternoon Abby presents her first results, I see a completely different Abby. Self-confident and very professional.
She talks fast. Full stops do not seem to belong to her active vocabulary.
I however try to follow her elaborations. Yet, I don't understand half of what she is talking about, but she is good. Very good. Convincing.
When she has finished, she looks at my blank face and knows, "You didn't understand it."
It's not a question and I don't hide how lost I am.
"Nope." Pinching my lips I look her in the eye and she tries to find out, by looking in mine, squinting, where exactly I lost her. I never thought it possible, but she accomplishes the task better than I would have been able to myself.
"Okay." She starts anew, this time way more understandable.
She's amused. And so am I.
"Feeling better?" I ask when we are finished discussing our findings.
She nods. "Thanks," she smiles.
It takes three more days to run a few more tests and solve the case.
-x-
Abby and I get along great. I don't know what it is that makes talking with her so easy. Besides, I feel a little responsible for her, protective even. I want to make sure she is okay.
"Take care, Abby," I tell her when I am leaving for D.C..
She hugs me and promises to call whenever she needs help. Forensics-wise she offers to help whenever I get stuck with a case. So even when I come back to D.C., I continue to ask Abby for advice on forensic stuff.
In between my various missions to Europe and Russia, it must have been quite a number of times and considerable outcome, because when our lab-tech leaves only a few weeks after I returned to D.C., the Director sends me to ask Abby if she is interested in working at NCIS headquarters.
He instructs me to take Abby out to wherever she wants to go to for dinner when I offer her the job, which eventually turns out to be just around the corner of the hotel I am staying at.
Abby likes the idea of working at NCIS, and even more does she like the appeal of a fully equipped lab of her own. Most lab-techs at our location do work alone or in pairs. Abby still feels uneasy working with a dozen others in one big lab.
"It's so draining to keep my eyes on everything everyone is doing," she tells me.
"All you have to do is send in a formal application. 'To keep up appearances'," I tell her.
"I really do get my own lab?"
"Yeah."
"Computer?"
"Yeah," I shrug. I don't feel comfortable with these things and I cannot understand how one could be so eager using them.
"My own machines? Whatever I need?" She is getting more and more excited.
"Mm-hm." It's more like a humming, because from what I understand this equipment can be very expensive and I'm not sure NCIS pays for all of it easily.
"And my own CafPow! dispenser?"
"Your what?" I ask, not knowing what she's talking about.
"CafPow! dispenser. It's a highly caffeinated drink. I need a lot of caffeine."
I remember she uses to slurp some very colorful stuff at the lab. She offered it to me once but the bright pink color of it was enough for me to decline.
"We do have coffee machines," I tell her "but if you want the real good stuff, you have to leave the office."
"Hm." She looks at me, lips pinched, eyes narrowed, as if there was something foul about this offer.
"I want you, Abs."
Oh man. Oh damn. That's not what I had wanted to say. I mean, in some way it is exactly what I wanted to say, it simply should have been, "I want you to be part of my team, Abby!"
Her eyes grow wide; just a little, then she smirks. She does not really try to hide her amusement but the next moment she changes the subject and I almost forget my little slip of the tongue.
When we leave the restaurant, I open the door for her. She walks by, then stops and turns around. Looking me in the eye, she says: "You don't want me, Gibbs. You know, 'want' as in want someone the way you want one when we want what the two of us don't want..." When Abby starts babbling, she doesn't mince matters.
I stare at her. I stare at her the way I use to stare at suspects.
It doesn't work. Quite the contrary: It is me who starts to feel uncomfortable. I pinch my lips, try to smirk, and right in time before I fail, I clear my throat.
"No. No we don't," I say and gently shove her out the door.
-x-
I do not recall Abby having had too many drinks, but in the fresh air it becomes clear that she is a bit tipsy. She tells me she is not used to this 'bourbon-liquor'.
"Then why did you have one?" I wonder.
"Because you did."
Hm. I am not discussing this.
My initial thought is to call a cab for her but my mind suddenly is flooded by images of when our paths first crossed at that park. I know she is grown up, a big girl or whatever she would tell me if she knew what I was thinking but I can't help it.
So I end up offering her to stay with me at my hotel.
Since the official part of the evening is over, we have another drink or two at the hotel bar before eventually heading upstairs.
Tbc
Okay, so what do you think is going to happen next? Something unexpected, that much I could promise ... *grins mischievously*
