Chapter Nine: Promises
Gibbs let out a tired breath as he scanned his eyes across the bullpen. He'd been right about his new team. They were pretty good, but not what Tony, Ziva, and McGee had been.
Bandera seemed to have taken it upon himself to flirt with every member of the opposite sex he could lay eyes on. But, unlike Tony, who'd had the same habit, headslaps hadn't done the trick. He still kept to his obnoxious ways and Gibbs still kept to his firm belief that the long-term effects of the head trauma would sink in soon. Other than that, Gibbs had to grudgingly admit he was a complete idiot with it came to detective work. He didn't have an uncanny affinity for it, but his conclusions were solid, if a bit predictable.
Chavez was another thing completely. She was studious and hardworking, just as he'd predicted her to be. Perhaps and bit drab and a little uptight for the relaxed banter he was used to, but she was a dead shot and pulled her own weight. At the very least, Gibbs knew she could handle herself when the time came for her skills to be tested.
Unlike Rison. Gibbs' head began to pound just thinking about the kid. He was an absolute disaster in the field and not much better with his paperwork. Sure he was a pretty decent hacker and could provide enough electron information per case to rival McGee, but he just wasn't fast enough. Gibbs knew that if he was going to be stuck with this team, Colby Rison was going to be his main project.
Suddenly, he was jolted out of his reverie by an argument, one that, from the sound of it, had been going on for a while.
"Give. It. Back," he heard Chavez hiss.
"Aww, c'mon Ali," Bandera drawled. Between two fingers he dangled his partner's pen, the very same one that had been in her hand just moments before.
Her face turned slightly pink and her eyes narrowed. Placing both hands on her desk, she leaned forward and looked at the man across from her straight in the eye.
"Don't you ever, ever call me that," she growled menacingly. Bandera simply grinned and threw the pen from hand to hand.
Gibbs groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. At least Tony would have had the sense to give the damn pen back by now, but Bandera obviously had no clue where his limits were, even after almost a month.
"Bandera!" Gibbs yelled.
"What?!" his agent yelled back, having the audacity to look as if he'd done nothing wrong.
"Give her the goddamn pen before I forcibly remove it from your hand," he ground out.
For a second, the younger man looked as if he might say something in response that would most likely result in a call to the ER, but shrugged instead and threw the pen across the bullpen.
Chavez caught it and gave him one final glare before sitting down.
Pushing himself out of his chair roughly, Gibbs called out to no one in particular, "Goin' out for coffee. I expect those reports done by the time I get back or you're doin' 'em again!"
oOo
"Gibbs!"
As usual, Abby's shriek could be heard from across the Navy Yard. But, what was unusual was her tone was of anger instead of her usual unstoppable glee.
"Abbs," Gibbs said wearily as he handed her a Caf-Pow, "What is it now?"
Instead of replying, she slammed her Caf-Pow down next to Bertha and grabbed his hand, navigating them both around Mop-Tony, Mop-Ziva, and Mop-McGee and stopping erratically in front of a large square of bright orange poster board that had been tacked to the side wall of her lab.
Jabbing her finger at the small calendar inside of the board that had squares crossed out with thick black Sharpie, she began her tirade.
"Do you have any idea what this means Gibbs?!"
Her arms waved frantically as she talked.
"I mean, one week, I'll give you. Two, ok. But it's been almost a MONTH Gibbs and you haven't even tried! Three and a half weeks! And you haven't done ANYTHING!"
By this time she was breathing heavily and coming perilously close to tears. Gibbs closed his eyes slowly, but didn't say anything. What was there to say?
Seeing his expression, Abby felt hopelessness engulf her again. Pushing past him, she went to stand by her computer. Gibbs just stood for a while, watching her, but after she closed a few browser pages, revealing her desktop background in the process, he felt that he needed to say something.
"Abbs," he sighed, moving closer to her and wrapping his arms around her, "What do you want me to do?"
Promptly shrugging out of his embrace, she spun to face him.
"I don't know Gibbs," she said, her voice cracking slightly, "But you act like you don't even care and…and…" At this her voice completely broke.
"I just miss them so much!" she finally wailed. Sobbing by now, she launched herself into his arms.
"Abby," he soothed, rubbing her back, "You see McGee everyday. Tony sends you postcards and you and Ziva email all the time. It's not like they've disappeared off the face of the earth."
"But Gibbs," she whispered quietly, "I want to see them. I want them here. I need them here with me. Writing isn't the same as talking and even though I totally love McGee and I probably couldn't live without seeing him everyday, it's not the same as when they're all here. Gibbs," she looked up at him seriously, "You have to promise me you'll try."
"Abbs," he sighed, looking away.
"No Gibbs," she said firmly, forcing his gaze back to hers.
"You have to promise."
He looked at her for a moment, then nodded. After scrutinizing him carefully, she finally nodded back and rested her head once more against his shoulder.
Resting his chin on the top of her head, Gibbs looked into the smiling faces of what had once been his team. Palmer had taken it when everyone was in the bullpen. Tony and Ziva were standing by Ziva's desk, laughing at some inane joke. McGee was at his computer, typing away, but a hint of a smile could be seen on his lips, proving that no matter how much he denied it, he did listen in on his co-workers antics. As for himself and Ducky, they had been captured mid-stride, walking together to his desk. And Jenny…
Jenny had been standing on the catwalk, leaning against the railing and smiling down on them all.
