A/N: Here ya go. You knew I wouldn't leave you long for with a cliffhanger like that one, right!? Enjoy, and I love it when I hear from you!
Abby's hair was down, because she just hadn't had the will to put it up again. It hung limply down around her shoulders, knotty and straggled, but she just didn't care. She sat slumped in front of her computer, in one of her tall rolling chairs, surrounded by empty Caff-Pow cups. Her head rested dejectedly in her arms, which in turn rested on her knees, and there was near complete silence in the lab, save for a small sniffling.
Open in a window on the computer screen was the note, that terrible, awful note- and there wasn't a thing on it that she could find, just words. She had run every single test she could think of, and still come up empty. There was nothing, nada, zip, zero. Whoever wrote it was just too good. She had failed. The phone rang, and her head jerked up as she answered it.
"Yeah?" she asked, with little conviction. It was Tony.
"Abbs, don't freak out," he began, which of course made her instantly aware that something was wrong. "Gibbs was in a car crash, he broke his arm . . . "
"What? Oh my God! When . . . Is he . . . " Abby exploded with a barrage of questions, but Tony stopped her.
"He's fine, Abby, just at the hospital getting a cast on it now. Look, we need to regroup. Meet me in the bullpen in five," he told her, his voice serious.
"Are you sure he's . . . " she began worriedly, and Tony sighed.
"He's fine," he repeated. "Gotta go." Abby dropped the phone back into its cradle, putting her elbows on the table and holding her head in her hands.
"Gibbs," she murmured softly, before hastily wiping her eyes and standing up. Feeling almost numb with disbelief, she headed for the elevator.
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Tony was already waiting in the bullpen when she arrived. He came over and put an arm around her to comfort her, and she leaned into him, welcoming the support. McGee arrived a moment later, and soon after, the Director and Ducky both appeared.
Tony walked Abby over to his desk and sat her down, before looking over the group. McGee was at his own desk, looking worried as hell, but trying not to show it by busying himself with his computer. Ducky was staring distractedly into space, and Jenny was leaning against Gibbs' desk, also looking worried, and scared. No one was smiling, and no one was meeting each other's eyes.
"Okay," Tony began. "We've had a fire, and a murder, Ziva is missing, and now Gibbs' car was shot at. We know it can't be a coincidence. So what do we know?" The room had gone very silent when he spoke, and everyone had turned to look at him, apparently surprised at how well he sank into the role of team leader.
"We need more information," he continued. "We need to figure this out. The police will have sent over the information on the murder by now, so Ducky, I need you to go over the autopsy report, anything you can find that would be of help. McGee, I want to know everything about the man who was killed, and anyone he's ever met in his life. Abby, we're going back over to your apartment. Whoever this is can't be perfect; we'll find them. So, Director, if you'll excuse us then?"
Everyone remained frozen in place, staring not at Tony, but over his shoulder at Gibbs, who had come in, looking battered and beaten, and a tad bit surprised that Tony was giving orders. For a moment, his face was unreadable, and Tony was worried that he would be furious. He was wrong, though.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" he asked suddenly, and everyone jumped to work, including the Director. He gave Tony a small smile, and stomped over to his desk.
"Good work, DiNozzo."
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Not twenty minutes later, Abby was back in her lab with Tony. They were going over the remains of her apartment after the fire, as Tony had suggested, but with no luck.
"There's. Nothing. Here. Tony," Abby said, eyes closed, thudding her head down on the computer desk with every word. Suddenly, she felt an odd sensation, and realized that Tony had pulled her chair away from the desk. She leaned back, eyes still closed firmly.
"Maybe," he said, beginning to massage her shoulders gently, "you just need to relax." Abby could already feel the tension drifting away, and she could help but let out a small, "Mmm" of pleasure. It just felt so good.
"Hey," she said, as Tony's hands suddenly left her shoulders, "don't stop!" He laughed lightly, and she felt a faint tugging of her hair.
"What are you . . . " she began, but realized the answer midway through the question. He was brushing her hair, putting it up into pigtails; after all, she had just left the hair-bands and brush out on the desk. In minutes he was done, and she finally opened her eyes, only to find his face mere inches from her own.
"Better now?" he asked, and she nodded.
"Yeah." He was so close, and she could feel his breath on her face, but she must've been imagining him leaning in, because a moment later, he moved away, back to the computer. Slightly disappointed, Abby followed him.
"Then let's take another look at this," he said. She nodded.
"We'll find something this time," she announced, injecting her voice with whatever confidence she could, while adding silently, "I hope."