Set after episode 7.17, Double Identity.

"It's not that bad."

A muffled groan emanated from between McGee's elbows.

"You didn't kill anybody." She looked askance at him. "You didn't kill anybody, right?"

His forearms rocked from side to side with his head.

"So no problem."

Another groan.

Abby winked an eyebrow at the puppy in her arms. "You don't have anybody to blame but yourself," she said.

McGee's arms dropped and his head snapped up. "Are you kidding me?" He held up his hand and began ticking of on his fingers. "Tony, Gibbs, maybe you..."

"Me? It was your idea, Tim."

He grunted. "You have no idea what it's like to have something like that on your permanent record."

"Please. I had a record before I could drive."

"Being caught playing tag in gated cemeteries after dark is not the same thing."

Abby shrugged. "You make choices in life, Timmy." She shoved Mortimer at him until they were nose to nose. "You have to face up to them."

McGee pulled back. "I thought you weren't supposed to cuddle seeing-eye dogs. Isn't he supposed to be on duty?" At Abby's guilty expression, he followed up with, "Is this whole thing just an excuse to bring a dog to work?"

Abby gasped dramatically. "How could you say that? Don't you trust me at all?"

"Your heart's a little too big to let you be completely trustworthy when it comes to animals."

"Hm," Abby responded. "I can't decide if that's a compliment or not."

"Neither can I."

She put Mortimer down on the floor of the lab and leaned back on the computer desk. "So when do we get to meet Jethro?"

"I don't think..."

"Come on, McGee. Jethro will love Mortimer."

McGee gestured at the small dog sniffing around Major Mass Spec. "Jethro might eat Mortimer. Without even noticing."

Abby's eyes widened. "You would not even say that if you weren't so prejudiced against small dogs."

"I'm not..."

"You are, you totally are. Remember the dachshund incident?"

"I didn't want a dog alternatively known as wiener or sausage, I don't see how..."

"And you just laughed right out loud when I suggested a Shih Tzu."

McGee burst out in a laugh that he quickly suppressed. "I'm sorry," he said. "You just always sound like you're sneezing, the way you say it."

"Ah," she replied. "Convenient."

"Hey, wait a second," McGee exclaimed, "I told you I wanted a smaller dog."

"Oh, so now you're against big dogs."

"I am not!"

"But is your headache gone?"

"How is that..." McGee trailed off thoughtfully. "Actually, yeah. It is."

She grinned.

"You were just trying to make me forget about the impound lot thing."

She took a sweeping bow and caught up Mortimer again on the way back up. "Now that that's over, let's go see Jethro. I bet he likes small dogs as much as you do."

"I told you I wanted..."

"I know, Timmy," she said, nuzzling Mortimer's back. "Opinions on dogs go on my permanent record. Or...I mean...yours. Or...mine on you. Or something. Anyway, I wouldn't expunge it even if you begged me."

"Don't worry." He scratched Mortimer behind the ears. "I never will."