Sometimes a Tabby is Just a Cat

"I'm WHAT?" Abby said, pulling herself up to her full platform-boot-enhanced height and looking Tony nearly in the eye. "I'm WHAT?"

Tony sighed. "Geez, Abbs, you asked the question. Rule 32 – 'don't ask the question if you don't want the answer'."

Abby's eyes narrowed. "There is no Rule 32," she said, suspiciously.

"There is in the DiNozzo rule book," Tony said as he looked to the ceiling and took another breath. Abby was still looking at him when he brought his head down and met her gaze.

"Say it again," she said, "just so that I can be certain I heard you correctly."

"Fine," Tony said. "I said that you were a little too high-maintenance for me." Abby opened her mouth to protest, but Tony cut her off. "Come on, Abby," he said as he began to pace the lab. "You cannot possibly deny that." He looked back at her. While her expression hadn't changed much, her body language had. It was clearly the stance of someone who was considering options and waiting to be given a reason to strike.

Tony began ticking things off on his fingers. "You can't get going in the morning without at least two Caff-Pows, which other people have to buy for you and bring to you; you go ballistic if someone withholds information; you get so pumped at crime scenes that we can't take you any more; God help us if someone forgets your birthday; you constantly pull rank because of your relationship with Gibbs; you've reminded several of us how easy it would be to kill us and leave no forensic evidence," he looked back at Abby. "Do I need to go on?"

Her eyes narrowed again. "Might I remind YOU, Mr. 'I'm-sorry-Abbs-but-you're-a-little-high-maintenance' DiNozzo, that you're not a piece of cake to deal with either? All those women … the practical jokes … the double entendre … the way you treat Timmy … the amount of trouble you get yourself into?" She glared at him.

Tony smiled. "I totally agree with you Abbs," he said. "But we're not talking about me. You were the one who wanted to know why I wouldn't date you. Why I didn't want you. Why your Gothness wasn't a turn-on for me. You were the one who wanted to know why I wasn't following you home on weekends to go clubbing and partying and then dropping into bed together."

She huffed, nearly stamping her foot.

"I love you Abbs," Tony said as he took a step toward her. "You know that, right?"

"A-HA!" she exclaimed, pointing a black-nailed, covered-in-rings finger at him. "I knew it!"

He smiled tolerantly. "I love you like a little sis," he said. "You're the first person I'd call if I was drunk or stranded and needed a ride." She rolled her eyes. "You've got the best evil mind of anyone I know. You're my absolute favorite person at work." She smiled somewhat smugly. "But as a girlfriend?" Tony took her by the shoulders. "Abbs … come on."

"Because I'm too 'high maintenance'," Abby sneered.

"Yes," Tony replied. "You know me, Abbs," he said, with a self-depreciating grin. "I need to be the center of attention. And I can't compete with you on that score."

She looked at him dangerously. "Are you saying," she said slowly, "that I'm an attention grabber too?"

'In for a penny, in for a pound, DiNozzo,' Tony thought. 'Can't back off now.'

"Yes, Abbs, I am." She thought for a moment and then acknowledged it. Tony thought he might be off the hook.

"Anything else?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "Anything else before I go tell Gibbs how you broke my heart and then pass on to Ziva and McGee that I'm your favorite person at work? After which I'll figure out a way to wire you with some sort of interesting computer chip, and then maybe I'll just resurrect that 'gay cowboy' photo of you that Kate and I …" she cut herself off with a gasp. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, slapping her hand over her mouth. "It's true!" She looked up at Tony with wide eyes. "I'm a horrible person."

Abby sank down in one of the lab chairs and put her head in her hands. Tony walked up behind her and gave her a hug.

"You're not horrible," he said. "You're just … Abby."

"And Abby's not your type, right?" she said, with a little bit of a pout. He nodded.

"But there's no one else I'd rather see if I was waking up from a coma," he said, an innocent smile on his face and sincerity fairly oozing out of every pore.

She smiled, somewhat mollified. "But what do I do now?" she asked. "I had it all worked out." She stood and started pacing and bouncing. "We'd be secret lovers for a few months, constantly teasing McGee and avoiding Gibbs and getting Ziva all hot and bothered and then, just as everyone was about ready to totally discover that we were together, I'd show up pregnant and Gibbs would have a Rule 12 meltdown and we'd be all happy and emotional at being able to finally publicly declare our love." She folded her arms and huffed again, her plan spoiled.

"And then I'd get fired and Gibbs would kill me, and McGee would torture me in his next book, and Ziva would torture me in real life. We'd have to move far away from DC, and I'd be unable to support you on a cop's income. You'd have to stop working in the lab because it would be bad for the baby, and I'd never let you go bowling again because … well … bowling, you know?"

"I'd have to quit bowling?" Abby said, incredulously.

"Well … yeah."

She looked at him, shook her head, and turned back to the computer screen. "Well," she said, "that's that then. I could never love a man who didn't like to bowl." She started typing data into a file. Then Abby looked over at Tony, who was smiling just a bit as he watched her. She rolled her eyes. "If you want this done by the end of the day, pretty boy, you'd better leave me alone. I've got stuff to do tonight, and I'm not hanging out late because you can't get your reports in on time. And where's my Caff-Pow?"

"On it, Abbs," Tony said, as he turned to leave the lab.

"Shit list, Tony," Abby called after him.

"Understood," Tony answered with a smile as he got into the elevator.