It was completely silent in the car, and there was an almost tangible sense to the silence. The man driving and the man in the passenger seat, who had no idea why their passengers were engaged in icy silence that almost felt like an argument they couldn't hear, were uncomfortable. The man they were sort-of taking orders from, or at least so their real boss said, was behind the driver's seat staring straight ahead. An even older man sat in the middle, and the strangest looking federal agent either man had ever seen was behind the passenger seat with a smug look on her face. The driver looked at his partner, who shrugged, and then silence continued uninterrupted. After all, Fornell had told them not to piss the Gibbs guy off, and he'd already seemed pretty mad when they arrived.

"We…um...I thought we were only picking up two passengers?"

Gibbs gave the unfortunate speaker a look that indicated he was contemplating him with about the same respect he would an insect he was about to step on. "Change of plans."

And neither of them had questioned him, once he'd flashed his badge at them, identifying himself as the man Fornell had told them not to piss off.

And they'd all gotten into the car and not a word had been spoken since. It was a long and complicated drive that took most of the FBI agents' attentions, making sure they were not being followed. It was also a complex operation, since yet more agents had taken the NCIS agents' respective cars to their real residences. The same pattern would be repeated the next morning, and again and again until this protection detail was called off. It promised to be a long and tedious process, but it would keep them all alive.

Parking the car in the garage of the house they'd arrived at, the driver (who was the senior agent in the partnership) turned to address the trio but found that Gibbs had already gotten out, made it to the other side of the car, and was pulling the woman out of the car.

"We'll be back for your discussion of safe-house rules in a moment, gentlemen. Perhaps in the kitchen," Gibbs told them dismissively as he escorted Abby into the building, keeping a firm hand on her arm just to be sure she didn't pull away from him. Once inside he moved them into the first room he saw with a door on it, which just happened to be a bathroom. Which, in lieu of an elevator, was often his second choice of "conference rooms". He shut the door on the looks of perplexion on the FBI agents' faces and released her.

"Bully," she signed fiercely, frowning at him.

"I'm agreeing to stay here with you when I can. But I have a job to do, and if I need to go somewhere else, you will be staying here anyway."

"But…"

"I'm compromising here, Abby, and I don't have to. I can place you in protective custody in Quantico or somewhere else equally impossible to penetrate, or you can agree to follow the rules."

"I wouldn't be able to work from Quantico!" Her hands were moving again, but he could discern no signs in them, she was simply fidgeting like she always did when she was emotionally distraught. Gibbs simply waited. "And I wouldn't see you, would I?" she continued, and he allowed a minute shake of his head in agreement.

"Fine." She signed and then pouted, arms crossed over her chest. Even though the gesture was still mutinous, he knew she'd keep her word and he softened, letting the tension drain away.

"That's my girl." He signed in response, smiling just a little at her as he did. It was a sign of how upset she was that she was lapsing so much into sign language, but it was also that she didn't want any of the curious listeners to hear her give in. She was such a stubborn little thing, but he didn't really mind. That's what made her Abby; as long as she was willing to capitulate when it came to her safety she could be as stubborn as she liked.

"One other thing. They're going to give you a panic button, and I don't want you to hesitate to use it – ever. Not only will it page our entire FBI protection team, but it will page me. If anything feels off, or suspicious, no matter what, you press that button."

"Sure, boss-man. You know I'll do whatever they say. I promised I would." Abby's face crumpled a little, hurt by the thought that he didn't trust her word. She might pitch a fit that he wasn't here too, and that Ziva and Tony and McGee were still out there working, but she wasn't going to argue about the things they dictated for her safety.

"I know." He pulled her close and brushed a kiss to her forehead, letting their heads linger close together for a moment longer than he normally would. "Gotta keep you safe, Abs." She sighed, knowing that was true, and he released her and opened the bathroom door back up, stepping aside to let her out first. Abby hesitated in the doorway, looking back up at him and turning to hide her hands from the curious faces in the kitchen, even though it was unlikely any of them signed.

"You'll be here all night?"

"I promise."

"And other nights?"

"As often as I can."

It wasn't quite good enough, but Abby knew when to back off and she knew that that was the best promise she was going to get out of her silver-haired fox at the moment. Steeling herself for a boring lecture on safe-house rules she'd heard dozens of times before (though never in quite so formal a context) she walked out into the kitchen, content with the knowledge that Gibbs was right behind her.