Disclaimer: A Visit from St. Nocholas, also known as Twas the Night Before Christmas, is a poem first published anonymously in 1823 and generally attributed to Clement Clarke Moore, although the claim has also been made that it was written by Henry Livingston, Jr. No copyright infringement intended. This is just for fun.
Title: Christmas Eve with Gabby
Rated: T
Category: Romance / Christmas
Pairing: Abby/Gibbs
A/N: I re-worked this classic Christmas poem as a thank you to ncislove for being this year's awesome SeSa organizer!
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through DC
Many people were sleeping, except for me.
Abby's stocking was hung by the chimney with care,
I had high hopes that she soon would be there.
She had gone to a party; at a new club,
Straight from work, with some strange looking bub.
I had given her flowers, roses all black,
And kissed her soft cheek, hoping for more than that.
Then out on the street there were many loud horns,
I sprang from my chair, my face heavy with scorn.
Away to the door, I pulled it wide open,
Startled to see a dashing young coachman.
The moon was a glitter on new-fallen snow,
Giving the cold winter night a wondrous glow.
I blinked my eyes, forgetting the harsh weather,
Because there sat Abby, wearing tight leather.
Four stout horses stood before the red carriage,
The handsome driver, handing me a message.
I looked at the woman who starred in my dreams,
Smiling and knowing, this was one of her schemes.
She had flirted and teased me for many years,
I knew in a second, I must put aside my fears.
Why not invite her in, to share in some bourbon?
It could give me a chance to kiss her, I reckon.
And then, as a vision, Abby came to my door,
I knew in that moment, that I was done for.
Stepping aside, I invited her in,
Then I closed the door, giving a wolfish grin.
She was dressed all in leather from head to toe,
Her loose raven hair dotted with wet snow.
Her green eyes all a twinkle, her smile so merry!
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!
Her bright red lips were a great temptation,
Making my blood heated and filled with passion.
I spun her around, pushing against the wall,
Her voice was a whisper with that Southern drawl.
My hands were all over, my mouth sought to claim,
I peeled off her outfit, her skin was aflame!
She tore off my clothing then took me in hand,
This was a Christmas Eve, I had never planned.
I spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
And Abby gave a shriek, then a little smirk.
I pushed deep inside her with no room to spare,
Her hands were clutching my silver-gray hair.
I thrust and stroked as she writhed and whimpered,
We sought release as our breathing grew labored.
Then she clenched around me and cried out my name,
I drove to completion, moaning as I came.
We moved to my bed and she lay in my arms,
Abby had won my heart with all of her charms.
"Merry Christmas, Jethro," she said full of bliss.
"Merry Christmas, my love," I returned with a kiss.
The End