HANDS

Author: Gosgirl
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Abby/Gibbs
Category: Romance
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. NCIS and its characters are the property of DPB and CBS. If I had a silver-haired, blue-eyed Marine to play with, do you think I'd have time for writing?

Summary: Written for the Gibbs/Abby Shipper Forum Creative Drive for the prompt 'Hands'.

A/N: set in an established Gabby universe and from Abby's POV.

Obsessed... that would be a good way of describing how she felt about them.

His hands.

The long, relatively slender but strong fingers... the warmth and size of his palms...the calluses formed from years of boat building... the scars on the tanned flesh from tools and bullet wounds.

The strength and tenderness in equal measure.

While they were still only friends, she would spend hours wondering how they would feel tracing her curves.

Now she knew just how good that could be.

She knew how those calluses felt as they ghosted over her skin lightly, trailing goosebumps in their wake.

How those fingers could cause her nerve endings to tingle as they sought out every sensitive spot... some she didn't even know she had until his hands discovered them.

How they felt as they massaged her skin firmly... sensuously... teasingly... erotically.

How his skilful fingers could make her writhe and beg.

How their strength could pin her down with ease, fingers leaving marks on her skin as they both lost themselves in a haze of passion.

How he could hold both her wrists in one large hand above her head while he tormented and teased her with the other... or while he pounded into her over and over again... driving her steadily out of her mind.

In the past, she would try and memorize every inch of them on the occasions when he would take her hand in one of his, or when he stroked her cheek tenderly, or held her warmly in a hug.

Now she knew every line, every callus, every scar.

Now she knew it was true what they said about men with large feet and hands...

They were part of his armoury.

They were both a comfort and an intimidation.

They could kill a man with one snap of the neck, tackle a suspect with skilfully placed blows, or floor an opponent in seconds during training.

They could cup her cheeks in his large palms and make her feel as if she was the most precious thing in the whole world, or soothe a crying child with such tenderness it brought tears to her eyes.

Toughened by war and training.

Roughened by years of working with wood.

Seeing him grip his Sig Sauer with a strong confident hold was possibly one of the hottest sights in the universe... or was that dishing out head slaps?... or slamming his hands down on the interrogation table?

Watching him as he patiently... slowly... tenderly... almost lovingly sanded and planed every line of his latest boat was hypnotic.

Those hands had been there during the best and the worst times of her life.

Fingers that signed my girl against her cheek, causing a smile on the darkest of days.

Those hands would sign I love you as they carried on a private conversation in the most crowded of rooms.

How those fingers and hands could turn a simple shower and hair wash into something dizzyingly erotic and sensuous... massaging her scalp in gentle circular motions that relaxed her and eased her tension.

A massage from those hands could turn her boneless and pliant in his arms or bring her quivering and screaming to orgasm.

They were soothing in times of stress.

She remembered how his hands and arms had felt when he held her after Ari fired into her lab... how they comforted her in the lift when Mikel was stalking her... how his finger had stilled her lips and broke her heart when he disappeared to Mexico.

If pushed, she would list his hands as one of her favourite features... or maybe she'd pick his eyes... or maybe his voice... or maybe his smile... or just possibly it's all of him.

A/N: another 'Hands' one tomorrow... it's an endless subject really!