Tony was right, McGee decided. He needed to know exactly what Abby wanted from him. He'd jumped to conclusions; maybe he was wrong. He hoped he was. His first instinct was to go straight down to her lab, but then a thought occurred to him. He hadn't replied to her text message at all, not even to tell her that he wanted to talk in person. She was going to be angry with him, and there really wasn't anything he could do about it now. He'd just have to deal with it. The longer he left it, the angrier she'd be. Checking for Gibbs, he got up from his desk and headed for the elevator.
...
He steeled himself on the trip downstairs; it was possible that this was going to be the most difficult conversation they'd ever had, and there'd been a few. As he got closer to her lab, he realised he'd made an error in timing; he couldn't hear her usual music blaring. He went inside just to make sure, but she wasn't there. Sighing, he grabbed a block of sticky notes off her desk and scribbled a quick message
'Abs- we need to talk. Tim'
He stuck it to her monitor and went slowly back to the squad room. He'd come down and see her later.
...
Abby tried to keep her mind on the job at hand, but it wasn't easy. She couldn't seem to stop herself from checking her phone for missed messages, along with her email. She'd given up putting the phone away; it lay close to hand on her desk. There never was a message, and as the day wore on without some sort of response from him, she got angrier and angrier. After his reply to her ill thought out query, she didn't expect him to say anything that would give her hope for a closer relationship, but not replying at all? He could at least say something. Anything was better than this blank silence.
She was glad when lunch time arrived; at least getting out of the lab gave her something else to do than sit and brood.
...
She was at her computer bank, back to the door, when he entered with a crateful of evidence. They'd finally gotten a case in the early afternoon, and they'd just returned from processing the scene of a particularly violent homicide. He'd volunteered to take the evidence to Abby, hoping he'd actually get a chance to talk to her.
The music was turned up to an ear splitting level, and her hunched shoulders spoke volumes about her mental state. She was angry, really angry. He swallowed. This wasn't going to go well.
He put the crate down on the stainless steel table, clearing his throat to get her attention.
"Just leave it there, McGee" she told him without turning around
"Abby, are you ok?" he asked. He couldn't help but be concerned; obviously she wasn't ok
"I'm fine, McGee" her voice said otherwise
"Abby, I'm sorry if I upset you"
She shrugged, finally facing him. Her eyes were narrowed, her expression hard.
"McGee, I asked you out, you said no. No big deal"
She turned back to her computer
"Abby-"
"I've got work to do, McGee" she cut him off, typing faster as if to prove how busy she was. He took the hint and left.