Fornell didn't bother knocking; he walked right in, holding up a paper bag to show he had brought take-out with him. "I just spend an hour trying to convince our ex-wife that I'm not trying to turn Emily into a Goth."
"Why? You take her out for a tattoo? Dye her hair black?"
"Nah, I thought she might enjoy getting a few piercings." Fornell hung his jacket on the back of one of Gibbs' dining table chairs.
Gibbs looked up from where he was wiping down the table, but said nothing.
"She told me that they ran into you and Abby a few days ago, and Emily has been talking about her a lot lately. She's convinced that Emily is going to give up piano for drums lessons and start selling drugs." Fornell grinned. "I can't say that I wouldn't be at least a little okay with it if it pissed Diane off."
"I can imagine."
"She needs help – almost to the point where I will suggest professional help. I'm tempted to have my lawyer make a suggestion. She's been bad-mouthing Sharon too. They haven't even met."
"I told you she needed help, but you didn't believe me and decided to marry her instead. Classic I told you so right there."
"Yeah, yeah." Fornell began pulling food from the bag as Gibbs went to grab two plates. "Speaking of Abby, where is she tonight?"
"I don't know," Gibbs shrugged. "Why?"
"Plenty of food, I thought she might be around."
"Here? Why?"
"You two have been spending a lot of time together lately. Obviously you were out together when Emily saw you, anything I should know about?"
"About Abby and I? Nah, she's still worried that the universe it out to get me, so she likes to hover. And she's good company." Gibbs dished up a healthy portion of sweet and sour chicken and rice and then snagged an egg roll with his chopsticks.
"Good company," Fornell snorted. "That's all?" He had more to say, but pulled up short when he caught the look that Gibbs was giving him. He knew Abby was off limits, and apparently, discussing their relationship – work or personal – was off limits as well.
Gibbs was unusually quiet after that, lost in his own thoughts about Abby. Wondering where she was, what she was doing, if she'd had dinner yet.
"Anyway, Diane has been making life miserable lately. I think my relationship with Sharon has hit her hard and she feels threatened. Before she was able to retain almost full custody because she had a steadier home life – being able to work from home in the evenings, but if things with Sharon… well, you know… work out, then, well…"
"You gonna marry this woman?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow.
"Hell if I know," Fornell snapped. "I'm just saying that if things did go that way, it would cause a huge uproar, I'm sure."
"But Emily likes her?"
"Sharon? Oh yeah. They have great fun together. I think she's a good influence on Emily. She's pretty relaxed and it's… it's good. They're good together. Hell, they gang up on me half the time."
Gibbs smiled. He remembered when Shannon and Kelly would gang up on him over silly things like what to have for dinner, or what movie to watch. Shannon always said that the two girls outnumbered him, and he would give up with a soft smile and a kiss for each of them. "Diane will get over it."
"With the help of a little medication," Fornell smirked. "Nah, I can't be too mean, she'd done well with Emily, and Emily loves all her activities. I'm not worried about her, so I can't complain. I'd just love to have one of those friendly divorces that you always read about, but never actually hear about."
"Because they don't exist."
"I suppose with as many divorces as you've had, you would know."
"You think you'd go through a big custody battle?"
"Nah, I wouldn't do that to Emily. By the time things were settled she'd be in high school anyway. As long as she is happy and I get some time with her, then I'm okay with our arrangement." Fornell answered honestly.
"Fair enough."
They were both mid-chew when they heard tires screech in front of his house. They dropped their forks and both went to the door. The street was empty, save for the few cars parked on the street belonging to Fornell and Gibbs' neighbors. Gibbs was just about to close the door when something bright red caught his eye. His beloved charger had a big stripe of red paint across the hood. "Sonofabitch."
"What the hell? Oh, damn." Fornell caught sight of what had happened and he shook his head.
Gibbs jogged down the front steps and circled his car. Nothing else had happened, the tires were fine, no scratches and the windows weren't bashed in. "Who the hell?"
"You sure the universe isn't out to get you? Maybe Abby is right."
Gibbs glared at his friend over the hood of his car.
"You want me to call and have one of my agents keep tabs on the block? I know you don't want anyone in your house, but it wouldn't hurt to have someone keeping an eye on things."
"I'll be fine."
"Probably. You'd better call Abby, you know she'll hear about it, and I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of her wrath if she finds out by someone other than you."
"Don't worry, you won't be."
"Well, I'll make a few phone calls anyway. Let me know if you come up with anything."
"Yeah." Gibbs headed back up the front step and shook his head. He heard Fornell drive off, but his gaze was on his car. He gave a heavy sigh as he shut the front door and clicked the lock into place. He paced across his living room as he debated whether or not to call Abby and in the end, he was a little more scared of her wrath than he cared to admit, so he picked up the phone and dialed.
"Abigail Sciuto, mistress of the dark, how may I serve you?"
"Abby." Gibbs sighed as he scrubbed his hand over his face.
"Hey Gibbs." She gave no indication that she was uncomfortable with her greeting.
He had been momentarily distracted by her voice, husky and sensual. "Why do you answer your phone like that?"
"Because I knew it was you, caller I.D., and I know you won't think any less of me. What's up?"
"What do you know about getting spray paint off a car?"
"Oooh, I know that it's not easy, depends on the spray paint, why?"
"Charger has a bright red streak across the hood."
"Oh my God, are you serious? Gibbs you should call the police!"
He could hear Abby moving around her apartment. "There is nothing they can do about it now. Fornell was here."
"He left? Gibbs, you shouldn't be alone right now. What if they come back?"
"They won't come back, Abbs. Everything is fine."
"How do you know? Lock your door. And check your windows."
"Already did." He heard her moving around more quickly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm putting my shoes on. I'm coming over." She sounded surprised that he even had to ask. Surely he didn't expect her to sit at home and do nothing.
"Abby, you don't need to come over. I'm fine."
"Except your car, your car isn't fine." When Gibbs didn't answer, Abby knew it had hit him hard. "Look Gibbs, I can't promise anything, but I can maybe run some tests on the spray paint and find something that will remove it, but not the paint of your car."
"I've never heard of any paint remover that can do that."
"I know. That's because it doesn't really exist. But I might be able to come up with something."
"Why don't you take a look tomorrow?"
"Because the longer it sits, the harder it will be to get off. I'm hanging up now; I'll be at your place in fifteen minutes." Abby hung up before Gibbs could answer.
Gibbs decided to wait for Abby out on the front porch. He watched his neighbors as they arrived home from a long day at work, and he nodded politely when Mrs. Jennings passed his walkway on her nightly walk with her dog.
He looked over at his car and thought back to when his dad had taken him to the garage and surprised him by still having the car that he had implied he'd gotten rid of it several years prior. He thought about the hard work his father had put in to get it to the condition it was in now – the money, the hours – everything he had done to Gibbs' standards and specifications.
He was so lost in his memories he didn't notice Abby pulling up in front of his house until she shut her car door, startling him from his thoughts.
"It's just across the hood, could be worse." He nodded at the car, and watched as Abby circled around it, running her fingers along his car gently.
Gibbs stood and opened the front door, waiting for her to follow him in.
"You hear anything? Any idea of who did it?" Abby headed up the front steps and followed Gibbs inside.
"Nah, just head some tires screeching and went to look. Fornell was here, and we both noticed that the hood had been sprayed."
"Oh. Guess there aren't any security tapes you could have him pull, are there?"
Gibbs ignored the jab and didn't answer. "You think you can come up with something to take the paint off?"
"No promises, but I can try. But you said Fornell was here. Is he doing anything?" Abby walked over to the window and peeked through the curtains.
"He said he'd have someone keep an eye on the house."
"Good. When will the agent arrive?"
"Arrive?"
"You'll have someone inside, right? I'll wait until they get here. I mean, I don't know that I would do much good in a gun fight, but you saw what I did to Fred a few years back. I can throw a punch or two."
"I'm not having anyone in my house, Abbs. They'll drive by every 15-20 minutes."
"But Gibbs!"
"I'll be fine, you don't need to worry."
"Then why did you call me?"
Gibbs wasn't sure why she looked hurt, but she did, so he crossed the room and pulled her into a hug. "Because I knew you'd find out and I didn't want you to think I was keeping it from you."
"Oh." Abby untangled herself from his arms and turned back toward the door. "I'll just get a swab of paint and see what I can come up with."
"Yeah, okay." Gibbs wasn't sure he wanted her to leave. He enjoyed her company and the idea of spending an evening curled up on the couch with her was something he'd been thinking about more and more lately, but he wasn't sure he could allow himself to indulge in that fantasy.
"See you tomorrow, Gibbs. Lock the door." She disappeared behind the door with a soft click as she pulled it shut behind her.
Gibbs watched from the window as she pulled out a sterile swab and took her sample of the spray paint. It was only when she got in her car and pulled away from the curb that he moved from the window and headed up to bed. Working in the basement didn't hold the same appeal as it had earlier.
The sound of his cell phone ringing early the next morning woke Gibbs nearly an hour before his 6am alarm went off. "Yeah, Gibbs."
"Agent Gibbs, this is Agent Mercer with the FBI, Agent Fornell has me keeping an eye on your house."
"Yeah." Gibbs sat up and scrubbed his hand over his face. "What do you need?"
"Well, there is a woman in your driveway; I thought you might want to take a look before I stop her. Maybe you can I.D. her?"
Gibbs padded barefoot to the window and looked down. He couldn't quite see the hood of his car, but the black pigtails were a dead giveaway. "Don't worry about her, she's fine." Gibbs hung up and then switched his sleep pants for a pair of jeans and pulled a tee over his head. He had set his coffee machine the night before, so all he had to do was start it. He pulled two mugs from the cabinet and filled them with coffee, adding a splash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar to the second one. He slipped his shoes on and carried the coffee down the front step.
"What're you doin', Abbs?"
"Last night, I brought the sample of spray paint back to my lab and I was able to create something that would remove the spray paint, but not the paint of your car. And voila," Abby wiped the sponge across his hood, easily removing the spray paint. "No more spray paint."
Gibbs was amazed at how easily the paint wiped from his car. The car had always meant a lot to him, but the fact that his father had kept it and finished it just the way he had wanted it – it meant more to him than he'd ever willingly admit. "Got a wakeup call from the FBI this morning. Whoever Fornell had keeping an eye on the house, he thought that you were the one that painted the car." Gibbs circled around the car and tried to take the sponge from Abby's hand.
"No touching." Abby pointed at the gloves on her hands. "Not the sort of stuff you want on bare skin."
"This stuff legal?" Gibbs looked into the bucket of cleaner she had.
"Questionable," Abby grinned. "But it's not like I'm trying to sell it. And it works, right? So make sure that FBI agent doesn't drive by and haul me in for having illegal cleaner." When she was done, Abby stripped off her gloves and tossed them in the trash before accepting the coffee from Gibbs. "I just need to spray it off with the hose, and then I believe you're good as new. Well, as new as it was since it wasn't the original color."
"I'll spray it down, go inside Abbs. I'll fix us breakfast in a minute."
"I'll hose it off. I need to rinse out my bucket, but I think I'm just going to toss the sponge." Abby handed him her coffee after one last sip and shooed him away. Gibbs watched a moment longer as Abby hauled out the hose and began rinsing his car and driveway.
Inside Gibbs refilled their coffee and opened the fridge. He didn't have much, but he always had eggs, and there was some bacon that was still good. He popped some bread in the toaster and started the bacon in one pan and then eggs in a second pan. Abby came in just as he slid her eggs (over easy) onto a plate and added a few strips of bacon.
"Smells good in here," Abby sniffed the air and then grabbed the butter and started buttering the bread that popped up in the toaster.
"Abby?" Gibbs set the pan down after dishing up his own plate and turned to her.
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
Her smiled brightened considerably. "Welcome."
"Did you go home at all?"
"I needed a bucket, and sponge. I went home for those. Does that count?"
Gibbs handed over her breakfast. "Why don't you go home after you eat and get some sleep; I'll call you if we need you to come in."
"No can do, boss-man. When I was mixing my cocktail of paint remover I started some DNA for Agent Johnson. They should be done in an hour or so. I'll be alright, Caf-Pow! is always helpful." She made a show of batting her eyelashes at him.
"You're going to work yourself to death, you realize that, don't you?"
Abby shrugged. "And you sure are one to talk." Abby scooped up some egg-yolk with her toast. "One of these days I'll request a few days off to rest. You know, one of these days."
"I know, Abbs. I know."
"Daddy, why can't I spend more time with you and Sharon?" Emily held tightly to her father's hand as he walked her up the front step toward Diane's house.
"Is that something that you would like?" Fornell knelt down so he was the same height as his daughter.
"Yeah, you and Sharon are fun. Mommy doesn't like to do things like bowling, and she's always angry – not at me, but at other people. She's always on the phone with her doctor."
Fornell didn't mind Diane dating again, but he didn't want it to interfere with her relationship with Emily. "I'm sure we can work something out if you want to spend more time with me, but you have your after school activities, you wouldn't be able to keep doing all of those. Do you want to give those up?"
"Maybe tennis. Or piano. Not ballet."
"Well, tennis only lasts a few more weeks, and then we'll look at changing our schedule to have a little more time, how about that?" Fornell smoothed her hair down and kissed her forehead. "Come on, mommy's waiting."
He wasn't surprised when Diane opened the door almost instantly as he knocked. "Come one sweetie, daddy is running a few minutes behind, and I need to get to you piano in ten minutes. Go on upstairs and changed. I'll be up to brush your hair in a minute."
"She just put that dress on."
"Oh, honestly Tobias. She needs to look presentable when I take her out. She's had that old thing for a year." Diane grabbed Emily's bag from Fornell's shoulder. "She has an extra tennis session this Friday, so I'll be an hour late getting her to your place."
The door was closed before he could reply.
Gibbs carried an arm load of groceries up his front step and suddenly froze, his gut giving him that feeling that something was wrong. When he hit the top step he noticed his front door was open just a crack. Quietly, Gibbs set the grocery bags off to the side and reached for his gun. He toed open the door and snaked around the corner, darting from room to room, avoiding the creaky floorboards while clearing the place. He found nothing out of order as he moved silently upstairs – checking the bedrooms, bathroom, and closets. With one last place to check, Gibbs made his way back down the stairs and peeked out the windows. He turned to the basement door and slowly twisted the doorknob. The basement door eased open without a squeak, and Gibbs kept as close to the shadows as he could as he started down the steps. Three steps down, he knew he was alone – whoever it was had come and gone, leaving everything intact except for one thing.
His newest boat.
Gibbs continued down the stairs and set his gun on the work bench before circling the mess of wooden scraps. The only things intact were a few of the ribs still sticking upward in the pile of chopped wood. There was a piece of paper nailed to one of the ribs, and in simple black letters it read, 'You're tearing apart my family'.
Gibbs circled the rest of the mess and picked up a splintered board. He hadn't been one hundred percent certain as to what he was going to name this latest creation. Though lately the name 'The Abigail' had been floating around his head and he'd even penciled it on to a board in large, elegant letters to see what it'd look like.
It was beautiful.
And now it was ruined. He might've been able to salvage one or two of the ribs, but he knew that every time he worked on her, he would flash back to this mess on his basement floor. The image of whoever it was that was angry with him, tearing into such a rage that was no match for his top craftsmanship.
This had to be personal – his boat, with the exception of a few things he'd saved of Shannon and Kelly, was his way of putting all his emotions into something physical. When he couldn't tell those around him that he cared, he put those feelings into the long, hard hours he spent perfecting his craft. He knew it wasn't normal, and that he had somehow twisted his emotions into something his friends couldn't understand or feel, but it was safe. The boat wouldn't betray him, the boat wouldn't leave, and until now, he had been in control of their fate.
But now, someone had taken that control. They had taken it out from under him and he hadn't even seen it coming. He felt violated, not because his home had been broken in to, but because the control he valued so much had been swept from beneath his feet. Glancing around the basement, Gibbs spotted a crowbar in a mix of all his tools.
He weighed it gingerly in his hand, judging how much strength he needed to put behind it to continue what someone else had started.
The first time he brought it down against the rib closest to him it bounced off taking little more than a few splinters of wood with it. The second time the rib snapped in half and skidded across the room to rest against an old rusted can of paint. The more he touched the crowbar to the remnants of what was to be his most grand boat yet, the further the slivers of wood flew, and the louder the beams cracked.
By the time he was done, there was a trickle of sweat dripping down his temple. He wiped it away and instantly regretted it when he felt the grainy bits of wood stick to his face. He was breathing heavily when he finally took the stairs up. He grabbed the groceries he'd left by the door and pushed the full bags into the near-empty fridge without unloading them. He took the stairs up to his room, and headed directly to the master bath, stripping out of his clothes as he moved, and walking straight into the shower – not waiting for the water temperature to adjust before getting in.
He scrubbed soap all over his body, and then shampooed his hair. Afterward he grabbed the closest towel, not caring that it was still slightly damp from that morning. He dried off briskly and changed into a clean pair of jeans and an old, but clean, tee.
He grabbed his cell phone from the pocket of his pants which lay on the floor and hit speed dial before tucking it between his shoulder and his ear while he pulled on a clean pair of socks. "Abbs?"
"Hey Gibbs, I was just thinking about you! There is this guy on TV and he's showing people how to-"
"Abby!" He didn't have the patience for her to ramble. "I need a favor."
"Uh, sure." She hesitated. Gibbs wasn't one for asking favors. He made requests and other complied. "What can I do for you?"
"Can I borrow your couch?"
TBC….