Title: Tense
Author: Chirugal
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: BlackWater, season 2
Summary: Gibbs checks on Abby's sore back, and gives her more than just a back-rub…
Author'sNote: Let's see if I can still write Gabby! It's been a while. ~Amy/Chirugal
Abby's music is playing at full blast again, and Gibbs steels himself for the increased noise as he walks into her office. She glances up, smiles and reaches for the volume dial before he can say a word.
"I know that look, Gibbs."
Amused, he sets a fresh Caf-Pow! down on her desk. "After five years, you should."
Her eyes light up, and she reaches for the drink. "I like it. It's familiar. It's one of the things that makes you Gibbs."
Leaning against the wall behind her desk, he looks at the mess of numbers and letters on her screen. "You done with that report yet?"
"Haven't started it," she says promptly, turning her chair around to face him, and he frowns.
"Why not?"
"Because I had a session with a chiropractor. Or, that was the plan. They swore they called me to cancel, but I never got the message. I had to reschedule."
Concerned, Gibbs looks her over. "Your back still giving you trouble?"
"Yup. I just can't seem to relax, y'know?"
Abby arches her back, twists her torso a little, and he has to glance away to avoid staring at the way her shirt stretches across her full breasts. He can think of more than one way to relax her, and none of them are chiropractor-approved.
"And Kate's in New York for another couple of days, so I lost my amateur masseuse." She sighs.
He shouldn't. He knows he shouldn't… but he does.
"Want me to try?"
She raises an eyebrow. "Are you good?"
Gibbs arches an eyebrow right back. "Never had any complaints."
Abby fails to suppress a grin. "I'll bet. Well, Dr. Gibbs, do you want me in the chair or on my worktable?"
Hoping like hell that his expression gives away none of the powerful attraction he feels for this unique, fascinating woman, Gibbs gestures for her to turn her back to him. "Chair's fine."
Abby spins the chair around to face the desk again, and sits forward so he can begin. "Killjoy," she teases, a hint of laughter in her husky voice.
He takes the mental equivalent of a deep breath, then places his hands lightly on her shoulders. As he registers the tension held in her muscles, he feels a jolt of surprise. "Jeez, Abby, you're all knots."
"Believe me, I know." Her voice is softer, as if just having his hands on her has an effect. "Kate thinks it's too much caffeine."
"She could be right." Gibbs eyes the Caf-Pow! even as she reaches for it. "Maybe I should put you on tighter rations."
After a quick sip of the drink, Abby says, "You can't see it right now, because I can't turn around, but I am pouting. I can't believe you'd say that to me, Gibbs – you, who drinks stronger coffee, more times a day, than anyone I have ever met! I feel betrayed."
"Uh-huh." He puts his thumbs to work against the knots in her shoulders, and she sighs, letting her head drop a little. "That okay?"
"More than okay," she murmurs, and somehow the moment seems as intimate as a kiss. "You really know your stuff. They teach that at Quantico?"
Gibbs tries to diffuse the warm tension that's building in the air, even as he works a different kind of tension out of Abby's shoulders. "Sniper training didn't include backrubs, Abbs."
"Wouldn't that be great, though? If you could fire a backrub through your rifle, and the enemy just got warm fuzzies and surrendered?"
"In an ideal world." Affectionately, he presses a kiss to the top of her head – then realises he shouldn't, not now. Not when she's so focused on his touch, could misinterpret the gesture.
More like 'correctly interpret'.
He should stop, tell her he doesn't want to take the risk of making her aching muscles worse. But as he takes a breath to say the words, she gives a soft purr of wordless appreciation, and his craving for her only gets stronger.
He's in over his head, and he knows it – but her body heat seeps through the material of her shirt to warm his hands, and he doesn't want to pull away. Doesn't know how he's gonna get this back onto neutral ground. Isn't sure he wants to figure it out.
"Gibbs?" She practically sighs his name, and desire slides down his spine like a caress. "Do you mind if I rest my head on the desk? This is more relaxing than I thought."
"Go ahead."
Abby shoves her keyboard aside and pillows her head on her arms. The chair's backrest obstructs Gibbs' reach, and he repositions himself so he can work out the knots in her upper back. He swallows hard as he notices a thin, exposed band of skin between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her skirt.
Gibbs wants to run his fingers across her smooth, tattooed flesh; wants to trail kisses over it, to push the material up to reveal the cross tattoo she's talked about, but that he's never seen.
He breaks the silence with words before he can decide to make the fantasy a reality. "Gonna fall asleep?"
Is it his imagination, or does she wriggle a little in her chair, as if she's trying to ease sexual frustration? "Trust me – no."
Testing the theory, he works his way down her back steadily, to 'accidentally' brush his thumb over the exposed skin of her lower back. Abby shivers – with pleasure, or are his fingers cold? – and he massages his way up again without pushing further.
After a few minutes more, he knows he should stop. This is already so far beyond anything he'd intended, and deeper into the realms of his fantasies than he ever thought he'd get. It's so tempting to just keep going, though – to massage her sides, then slip his hands over her breasts, smooth his fingers over her nipples and feel them rise to meet his touch, only a thin layer of cloth impeding their connection…
Enough. His reaction is visceral enough that he has to stop, or else end up with a hard-on she'd notice the instant she sat up. Reluctantly, he straightens, pulls away from her. "C'mon, Abbs. I think you're a little too relaxed."
Abby gives a soft whimper in protest, then takes a deep breath and slowly begins to sit up. "Wow. Thanks, Gibbs… You really do have a magic touch."
She leans back in her chair, spins it around so she can look up at him. Her eyes are half-closed, her lips slightly curved in a smile, and as she rolls her newly-massaged shoulders, he fights the urge to cup her cheek in his hand and guide her lips to his.
Something beeps in the outer lab, and Abby blinks over at the machine in question, seeming to realise where she is. "I should get that."
She jumps to her feet, too soon, and he catches her around the waist as she stumbles, acting on pure instinct. Startled, she gazes into his face, and he catches a glimpse of raw desire, then her struggle to hide it.
He can't control himself any longer.
He kisses her, just a slight brush of lips against lips. Testing her, dreading her reaction in case he's pushed too far.
Abby slips a hand to the back of his neck and deepens the kiss, her breath a little shaky, her tongue flicking out to find his. She trembles with emotion, and he draws back, concerned. "Abbs…"
"Hmmm?" She nuzzles his neck, kisses it, and he can't remember what he was about to say. He finds her lips again, pulling her tight against him, and she smiles against his mouth as she feels his body begin to respond to her.
He tries to pull back, be a gentleman, but she slips her hands down to cup his ass, dissuading him from moving. "You think I don't want you, too?"
Gibbs hasn't let himself think about that… until now. It definitely does nothing to calm him down – quite the opposite, in fact. "Not helping, Abbs. You forget where we are?"
"Wanna go somewhere else?" Her expression is pure mischief.
"Yeah. But I'm gonna need to calm down, first, so let me go."
Abby sighs. "Okay, okay. Just promise me you won't run away."
He smiles – a rare, full smile – as he shakes his head. "Not a chance."
She doesn't release him – instead, she presses herself closer. "No way am I letting you go while you're smiling like that. Seriously hot, Gibbs."
Helpless to resist his impulses, he kisses her again. It might take them a while to get out of the office.
END.