"…Bye for now!" Those were the last words Abby heard from Gibbs as he shut down the connection. She hadn't even noticed her hands shaking until Director Shepard grabbed her hand in hers. Abby glanced over, wide-eyed at the other woman.
"What are we going to do? How do we help?"
"Abby, listen to me. They will get through this. We will help by researching and threatening everyone we can on land…ok? Tell me you're ok with this."
"I'm…ok, let's do it."
"Abby, it's Jenny…you know, you can call me Jenny sometimes."
Abby watched as the once thought unreachable woman strolled out of the lab, trying to put on a brave smile. Abby wasn't an idiot; she knew Director…Jenny and Gibbs had a past. Hell, any woman in her right mind would want a "past" with him. But she also knew that they both had moved on with their lives while still being able to maintain some closeness. For a few long minutes, Abby stood in silence. Then bracing herself, she set about learning everything she could on hemorrhagic fever. She even called Palmer in to help.
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Thankfully, they had solved the case and were on their way back. Although Abby didn't hear this first-person…no, she heard it from Cynthia, who happened to hear Director Shepard mumble about it being over. Slightly miffed that she had been left to worry, she decided the smartest thing to do would be to blow off some steam herself. She quickly wrote a note, left it on Gibbs' desk and headed home to change.
Gibbs and the rest of the team stumbled into the bullpen, needing baths, a change of clothes, and sleep. Gibbs wondered over to his desk, noticing the black stationary. Picking it up, he read:
"Gibbs, I am so glad you all are ok! I'm heading out to celebrate. See you tomorrow! -- Abs."
Although he was tired, the last thing he wanted to do right at that moment was sleep. Crushing the note, he took off towards her apartment.
Abby really was happy they were all ok, and she really did intend on seeing everyone in the morning. She knew Gibbs, she thought he'd want some one-on-one time with his boat and a bottle of bourbon; therefore, so took herself out of the equation. It was ok, she never really saw herself as the 'I-have-to-see-you-every night' type anyway. Once home, she quickly stripped, took a fast shower, and dressed to go out. The club she was meeting her "Brainmatter" friends at was "Hell", so she dressed appropriately.
Gibbs watched from his car as she emerged from her apartment. If you could call it clothes she "wore", he felt himself both harden and become insanely jealous. She had on a backless blood red top and a black mini-skirt (shorter than any of the ones she wore to work), red fishnet thigh-high stockings, and black knee-high boots (again, not the ones she wore to work, which had buckles on them…no these were smooth and most likely leather).
Abby was excited since she hadn't gone out in over a month. Arriving at the club, she sauntered in, unaware she was being watched.
Gibbs watched as she paid her way in, disappearing within the Goth-clad crowd. He certainly wasn't dressed for the club; however, he also really didn't care. Flashing his badge, he walked in and immediately found a dark corner. He tried to tell himself he was just concerned with her welfare, and since he had almost contracted a deadly disease, he needed to know she was alive. However, even he knew when he lied to himself; he was there to watch her. For some reason he felt an insatiable need to…well, dominate her. He had been cheated on, hell Jen was right when she stated "you didn't care who sailed off on Diane"—one of his ex-wives. But with Abby…everything was different.
Abby knew most of the people in attendance tonight. Some were admirers of the band; some were family of the members; and some were their lovers. She, herself, had never been one to meet and subsequently take home someone from a bar; therefore none of the customers had an intimate knowledge of her. She laughed and smiled, mostly having a good time; yet her mind was somewhere else. All she could see when she closed her eyes were images of him kissing her, licking her, sucking her. One of her friend's husbands noticed her discomfort and asked her to dance.
"Phillip, that's so sweet! Thank you."
"Couldn't help but notice…who's the guy you keep thinking about?"
"What?"
"Oh come on, Abs…is it that boss of yours? Janet told me about him. I think he's an idiot if he doesn't make a move."
"Well…ok so he made a move—correction, the move. I just don't know what to do now."
Abby as glad to have someone outside of work to talk to. Janet and Phillip had been her friends since high school, and she had babysat for their two children many times. Abby soon lost herself in the music, swaying and grinding her way through the melodies. After her third drink she felt someone blow on her neck. Without missing a beat, she backed up towards him, her ass teasingly whispered against his groin.
Gibbs watched as some young idiot grabbed Abby, leading her to the dance floor. He seethed with anger as she laughed and began swaying her hips. He almost lost control as she grounded those same hips against a phantom partner, while losing herself in the music. 'If this is how she dances…I've got to watch her more often!' Suddenly, he noticed he was standing mere inches from her gyrating silhouette; having no clue how he ended up here. After all, he had only three bourbons on an empty stomach.
Abby felt the man's hands glide up from her upper thighs, ending below her ears. She knew those hands; these were the same hands she had dreamed about for years. The same hands that could built a boat; capture a crook; kill when needed; hold her when she cried; and made her reach unfathomable peaks of ecstasy. She used one arm to pull him closer into her lower body, as the other one wrapped behind his head. She drew his head to her neck, begging him to mark her. He didn't disappoint her.
