A/N: This story is moving faster than I anticipated; maybe I'll keep it under 10 chapters after all :) I've got a few more chapters written after this one, so I may actually get to post a bit more often. Yay!
Some days were worse than others. Some days she'd look at him and he'd catch the glimmer of warmth in her eyes and he'd think that maybe, they'd be ok. And other days she'd be so withdrawn and distant that he just wanted to scream. Lately, the bad days had far outnumbered the good; she was completely avoiding him this week, three weeks after he'd proposed. He wished he never had; he knew it had been a mistake from the moment he'd asked her. He just didn't know how big a mistake it had been. He'd given up wishing for her to answer him-it was obvious what her answer was, anyway. Now he just wanted Abby back, the way they'd been before, when he'd been sure she loved him.
...
It happened on one of the worst days.
Tony and Ziva had been called away by Gibbs as soon as they pulled the truck back into the evidence garage, leaving McGee to take the crates up to Abby. He used to jump at the chance to spend a few stolen minutes with her; now he gathered the crates up bad temperedly. He was sick of seeing that cold, hard look every time she looked at him, and it had been there in spades when he took her a Caf-Pow that morning.
Her expression clouded over as he entered her lab and set the crates down on their usual table. She snapped at him
"Be careful of that table; it's broken. I've asked maintenance when they're going to come and fix it, but typically they can't give me an answer."
He didn't know why he said it, but a little of the pain and bitterness he'd been feeling came to the surface at her words; before he could stop himself, he replied "Yeah, because not getting an answer must be really frustrating."
She spun towards him. "What's that supposed to mean, McGee?"
"Oh, come on, Abby, you know exactly what I mean. I asked you to marry me, and you didn't say a word."
"I didn't know what to say, McGee."
"Anything! But you always do this!" He was blazingly angry suddenly, waving his hands around as he yelled while she paced up and down beside the rickety bench. "One hint of anything permanent and you turn into the ice queen!" He didn't mean to say it, but it was too late and he was too angry to think about what he was saying. Now she was furious too, hurling back at him "And you're always so damn impatient, McGee! You want the white picket fence and the house in the suburbs so bad you can taste it! Tell me, how many women have you scared off?"
Unable to stand it anymore, he turned to walk out. He was never sure from then on who bumped the bench hard enough to do it, but one of them did. A test tube rack toppled and fell to the floor. The sound of glass shattering instantly drove the anger away, replacing it with pure horror. He looked down, knowing what the noise was, seeing what he'd hoped he wouldn't. Almost simultaneously there was a piercing whistle from the doorway. He didn't have to look up to know who made it.
They'd done the unthinkable. They'd destroyed evidence. And Gibbs had seen it.