A/N: Okay, I just found this chap and can't really remember where I wanted to put it. Originally, that is. I'm having the feeling that I'd meant to come a lot earlier than this in the whole story, but it seems I got something mixed up here.

Well, I hope you think it fits in okay all the same. Enjoy!

A Black Guitar

Kate never knew that Abby plays the guitar.

It's almost one in the morning, visiting hours are long over. The doctors and nurses, however, have stopped bothering – or let's say they gave up trying to kick that bunch of people out after Tony at one point said something about this being a Navy hospital, and "how the hell do you figure we're supposed to fit your visiting hours into our working day?"

Either it had been that (coupled with Tony's amazing ability to make his words sound like everyone apart from an NCIS agent is nothing but a pathetic, pitiable and utterly unimportant lifeform), or probably just the realisation that nothing would make even one of them move an inch out of Gibbs' room while there wasn't a dead Marine or a mortal threat from Jenny Shepard.

And since neither is the case right now, they're all here, wide awake, and even McGee, who was nodding off in his chair a few moments ago, has been watching Abby with big, surprised eyes since she pulled out a black, polished acoustic guitar from behind her chair.

"Abby," Kate slowly begins after she's quite convinced herself that, judging from the others' faces, no one knew about this, "how come you never gave us a concert?"

The Goth smiles down at her fingers that pluck the strings almost tentatively, luring out a row of soft, quiet, vibrating sounds. "Never been comfortable with audience", she says, "I'm no good."

She gives Kate a somewhat apologetic glance and shrugs, but then she returns to tuning her instrument.

It surprises Kate, this shyness, because if she'd had to imagine Abby with a guitar, it certainly would have been with an electric one on the stage of some Goth club, going wild with some girls' band.

They all just sit and watch while Abby seems to get all lost in the creation of a harmonic scale. One by one, the keys begin to fit together, like acoustic puzzle pieces.

"Only Gibbs", Abby suddenly says into the dying echo of a chord.

Everyone looks a bit confused as they try to follow her train of thought (or maybe island-hopper-plane of thought?), and she seems to realize that. She puts her flat hand on top of the strings to silence them, and glances at the others, smiling a sad, scarlet smile. "Only Gibbs ever heard me play."

There are still puzzled faces staring back at her, so she explains: "Down in my lab. I use to practice when I'm still waiting for a result late at night, and since Gibbs is almost always the only one who works as late as I do…he caught me once." She grins, then she returns to playing a few unrelated chords. With a shrug, she adds: "He said he liked it. I believe anything he says, so I played a few times when he was there."

A few minutes later, Abby could make no one believe she can't play anymore. Kate is surprised at the tranquillity of the song, given what kind of music her friend's usually listening to at work. Then again, there's probably no way whatsoever to produce something like that on an acoustic guitar…

At first, it's only been random keys coming from the black instrument, but then, slowly, they began to for a melody, like someone were picking up lose strings and weaving them into a pattern. There's a little transformation taking place in the room, actually. All the tubes and monitors and digital numbers seems a little less real and frightening, the beeps of the ECG drowned out by Abby's song.

The flowing melody takes Kate on a little journey back through the past days, days and nights that are flowing into each other just like the chords, until she can't tell them apart anymore. They've all been the same in a way, all tiring and full of worry and all dominated by a strong sense of impossibility. Sitting here, she thinks that it's really impossible that this is happening, that it came this far.

It's a scenario they all must live with, of course. That one of them, of the team, could be severely hurt. Killed. It's bearable as long as it's a scenario. It's like a stone in your stomach, like something that's always sitting in your neck like a little ghost, but it's bearable.

She finds she never believed it could truly happen. And the low lights that burn at nighttime instead of the bright halogen lamps of the day, and this gentle, somewhat confident music make her think that, maybe, it is not that real at all, and she'll soon wake up. Like Abby's song is the closing title of a movie, and in a moment they'll all get up from their cinema seats and drive home.

Then, Abby starts to sing. She's got an incredible voice, with a slight raspiness to it, all warm and cosy like honey and milk.

Kate doesn't even realize she joined in until the song ends, and Tony is looking at her, first with something close to surprise in his eyes, then with a wide grin plastered across his face.

"Hey, never would have believed that if you'd told me back in the shower of that fighter pilot's house."

At that, Abby's eyes go huge with amusement and Kate shoots DiNozzo her best death-glare.

"Don't you dare start about-"

"What?", Tony cuts her off, "Your legs?"

If possible, Kate's eyes narrow even further. She looks all prepared to jump at her colleague's throat and bite his nose off. But Tony just flashes her an absurdly sweet smile. "But you know me, Agent Todd. I would never do such a thing."

"Yeah", Kate mutters, somewhat pacified, but still eying him suspiciously, "I do know you."

On the other side of the room, Abby starts a new song. "C'mon, Kate, you know that one?"

"I'm not gonna sing any more," Kate declares. If she didn't know better, Abby would say she's sulking. "'Course you will, come on, don't leave me hanging!"

"When Tony's gone", her friend says, sounding quite determined and still glaring daggers. Her cheeks actually have acquired a slight blush, leaving everyone pretty curious about that whole story involving her legs and a shower. And Tony.

Abby gives a huff, frustrated at the lack of a duet partner. "Arr, Tony!"

"What?"

"Your fault."

"Hey…!"

The hours slip by as Abby goes on and on, growing more and more comfortable with all the team listening. Kate recognizes most of the songs, thinking that, looking at Abby (even knowing her), you really wouldn't believe most of them to be part of her repertoire. But then again it's Abby, she's always good for a surprise.

When the last song ends, it takes everyone a few moments to come back out of whatever they've been thinking about. Judging from their faces, though, it's on the whole not been the most heightening of contemplations.

Abby sits there word- and motionless for an entire minute. She stares at the floor, her right hand hovering above the strings, the left one still forming the last chord. Then, suddenly, there are tears in her eyes, she squeezes them shut and the droplets fall. Her cherry-red lips compress until there's almost no trace of the colour left. She doesn't want to cry.

"Abby?" Kate's voice is soft and concerned as she makes to get up, but her friend only shakes her head. She seems to master her emotions and as she finally lets go of her guitar's neck, she looks up, eyes glittering with moisture, but tears run dry.

"I just thought…", she begins, but interrupts herself again before saying what. She bites her lip, and after a short silence starts to pack away her instrument.

"You thought you might be able to wake him up", Ducky suddenly concludes the sentence she's left hanging in the air, and everyone looks at him. Abby, however, just nods as she zips up her guitar bag.

The ME abandons his post by the window and comes over to her. "Abigail," he says softly, putting an arm around her. But then he is quiet for a long while, making everyone wonder whether he intended to say anything else.

When Abby glances up at him, he smiles. "Maybe you should keep your guitar here instead of your laboratory for a while."

It's only then that they grow aware of Emma standing in the door, because she's been clearing her throat – discreetly, but unmistakably. She's got a strange expression on her face as she eyes Abby's guitar, one that's probably meant to say something like First computers in my waiting room, and now this?

But the somewhat dreamy look in her eyes, accompanied by the smiling faces of the two night nurses that are squeezing in the door frame behind her (they probably don't often get impromptu concerts during their shifts) tell a different story.

Emma seems to always feel compelled to do things, like calling Abby ma'am – or just point out this new violation of the hospital's rules just for duty's sake.

Tony frowns at the little congregation in the doorway. "Hey," he softly calls at them, "visiting hours are over!"