Alone Together

Rated K+

A/N: Written for the prompt 'celebrate' on the Gabby Shipper Forum.

"Not in the mood for company, Abbs."

Neither the words that greeted her or the firm tone they were delivered in stopped Abby descending the stairs into Gibbs' basement, steadying herself on the handrail from a world gone slightly blurry at the edges.

Coming to a halt in front of the man perched on the sawhorse by his workbench, Abby unflinchingly met the stare that would have sent most people scurrying for the hills, refusing to be intimidated into leaving.

"And neither am I, Gibbs," she revealed after a moment. "Not really."

"Then what ya doing here? Don't you have anything better to do on a Saturday night?"

He looked her over, taking in her chunky boots, black short skirt giving a tantalising glimpse of pale leg, and a green jumper that not only snugly hugged her curves but made her eyes glow more vividly than normal. In his current well oiled state, it was not an outfit that would help either his blood pressure or self-control.

"Nope, I was in the bar celebrating Mike's birthday... or rather, not celebrating it, when I thought I'd rather be here... still not celebrating." Abby shrugged, dropping her bag on the table. "So, here I am."

She'd spent the past hour or so in the bar near the Navy Yard which housed the wall of the fallen for agents killed in the line of duty, with its photographs of Chris Pacci, Paula Yates and others. She'd gone there to raise a glass or three to Mike Franks, whose birthday it was today and who'd died at the hands of the Port to Port killer earlier in the year.

The bartender, who she knew well, had helped keep the succession of men away from her who all seemed to view a lone woman in a bar as fair game. But after her third bourbon, Abby was fed up with drinking alone and decided to seek out Gibbs, who she figured would be back from spending the day with Leyla and Amira, Mike's daughter-in-law and granddaughter.

"So I see."

Gibbs broke off from the cabinet he was fixing for Leyla and grabbed his umpteenth glass of bourbon. He'd stopped counting a while back. After leaving the two girls, he'd retreated to his basement to lose himself in wood and hard liquor.

"So, given that you're not in the mood for company, Gibbs, and that I'm not in the mood for company either." Abby held up a finger to emphasize her points. "And that we're both not celebrating Mike's birthday... I thought we could not celebrate and not want any company... together. What do'ya say?"

He shook his head, biting back the smile which threatened to break out at her tortuous logic... only Abby.

"Do I get a choice?"

"Nope... and I brought the good stuff, so you can put away that rot gut." She gestured at the bottle of Jim he'd just picked up and rummaged in her bag, holding up the bottle of Maker's 46 bourbon with a triumphant smile, her green eyes shining.

While he wasn't in the mood for company and preferred to wallow in his own memories, there was a small part of him that had welcomed the clump of familiar boots overhead and the appearance of Abby in his basement.

Although it had been a few months since Mike's death, there were days when the reality of it hit home harder than others, and this first birthday was one of them.

And it was only a small comfort that his friend had been dying anyway... and a slow, painful death from lung cancer at that. Gibbs knew his mentor would have chosen to go out the way he had, with one last fight. It was a choice Gibbs himself would have made in the same position, but that didn't mean he missed Mike any less.

One thing he'd been thankful for... the letter Mike had sent him months before his death had at least allowed him to build a casket fit for his friend... a vessel he didn't burn and of which he was proud, pouring as much love and care into it as he had The Kelly.

A fitting tribute and a thank you for his friend... his mentor... his saviour, both when he lost his girls and then years later when he lost his memory.

The extra time gained had allowed them both to plan taking care of Leyla and Amira after his death in the way that Mike would have wanted.

But the grief from losing Mike was still raw.

Originally, when he left the girls earlier, he'd planned to retreat to his basement and drink himself into a stupor... to both numb the pain and honour his friend.

He hadn't quite gotten there before Abby arrived... and was only moderately buzzed. These days, it took a heck of a lot of bourbon to take the edge off.

Abby settled onto the sawhorse next to him, taking in his tired face and the sadness in his blue eyes. He was in jeans and his red hoodie against the chill of the evening and she had to look away to quell her usual reaction of wanting to snuggle into it… and him.

"You didn't drive?" he asked, breaking into her thoughts, his deep voice sounding even huskier from the alcohol.

"Gibbs! Of course not... I took a cab. Now pour me some of the good stuff," she prompted.

Handing him the fresh bottle to open, she took the mason jar he offered, holding it out to be filled, and he poured several fingers of bourbon in both their glasses.

Abby held up her glass. "To Mike... wherever he's celebrating his birthday right now, no doubt surrounded by women and tequila."

Remembering Mike's words in this basement minutes before he died, and his wish that he'd be surrounded in death by as many naked women as he had been in life, Gibbs quirked a half smile, agreeing with the sentiment and raised his own glass.

Abby clinked hers against his in a toast and took a healthy swig of the amber liquid, grimacing as it burned a path down her throat. She watched as he did the same, his throat working as he swallowed and she averted her eyes from his strong neck with difficulty.

She'd seen Gibbs drunk before and he was a careful drunk. If anything, he became even more intense... with each movement and word more deliberate than usual.

She felt only slightly unsteady herself but wasn't that drunk... yet. She'd reached that plateau stage where the initial alcoholic buzz had worn off and it would take a fair bit more before she got to the, I won't remember this in the morning, stage.

But she knew it was risky to get drunk in front of Gibbs, lest she slip up and make her own feelings for him too obvious.

And alcohol made it hell to try and squash her usual physical reactions to him. Even now, just sitting next to him, her whole body was starting to hum, hyper aware of his nearness and his every movement.

She held her glass out for a refill and Gibbs obliged, filling his own at the same time. Catching her breath as he looked up directly into her eyes, Abby found herself literally aching for him at the pain visible in Gibbs' eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and hold him but wasn't sure if he'd welcome that right now.

So they sat silently side by side while he worked and gradually, as the evening progressed, the level in the bottle lowered… the mood sombre but comfortable between them.

He'd spent the afternoon taking the girls to visit Mike's grave and had then joined Leyla and Amira for dinner, the older woman in a melancholy mood on the day she would normally have been spending with her father-in-law... the protector who'd taken over from Liam and created a stable family life and home for her and her daughter.

And Amira just missed her grandpa... whatever the day happened to be.

Mike had been on his mind most of the day.

Today was less painful than the day Mike had died but was a difficult day nonetheless. His head was full of vivid memories of the only man to call him Probie.

His friend and mentor... the man who'd saved his life, in more ways than simply watching his six as an agent.

Mike had made possible Gibbs' revenge and had then given his empty life and damaged soul a purpose again... and had later helped Gibbs find himself again in Mexico, along with his memories.

Gradually, Abby began talking about Mike... walking through her own memories of the man, conjuring up the sound of his voice, his craggy face, wide infectious smile and twinkling eyes.

Abby had less stories than Gibbs, for obvious reasons, but it didn't lessen her affection for Mike. She remembered the day he died, how she'd rarely seen Gibbs look so lost and helpless.

"I wish I had more memories of Mike. Wish I'd spent more time with him when he was here." Abby poured another drink, while she smoothed her hand slowly over the wood of the cabinet in front of her.

Gibbs took a swig of his own bourbon, watching her fingers trace over the wood and it flashed into his mind, not for the first time, what that touch might feel like running over his skin... what those lips that were currently curled around the edge of the glass would taste like.

Haltingly at first in a rough raw voice, Gibbs began sharing some of his own stories from their days as agents, as Boss and Probie. Abby hardly dared breathe lest she break the spell, listening intently, touched that Gibbs was sharing his memories with her.

Laughing together at a particularly raucous story, Abby's laughter caught in her throat and she leaned against his shoulder, sadness suddenly overwhelming her as tears pricked her eyes. "Oh, I miss him so much, Gibbs."

Gibbs put his arm around her, pulling her into his side and pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "I know, Abbs. Me too."

He left his arm circling her back as they finished off their drinks in silence and Abby topped off both their glasses again, staring down into hers at the swirling amber liquid.

Gradually, her head drooped until she was resting it against his shoulder, and rubbed her cheek gently against the soft material of his hoodie. Abby sighed as she relaxed against him, his familiar and comforting scent washing over her.

Turning his head, Gibbs breathed in the sweet scent of her shampoo, his nose buried in her soft silky hair. Closing his eyes, he found himself unable to pull away... to put a safe distance between them, even though he knew he should.

He remembered Mike's last evening here in the basement, and how he'd reminded Gibbs once again that life was too short. He could still hear Mike's voice now.

"When ya gonna get your head out of your ass, Probie, and tell that little lady how ya feel about her… coz she ain't gonna wait forever, y'know, even if she is crazy about ya. Though the way you been actin', I can't think why."

Gibbs had avoided answering Mike at the time, other than to shoot him a half-hearted glare which Mike reacted to in his usual way… snorting with laughter and shaking his head at his Probie's stubbornness.

But he knew Mike was right… about his feelings at least and he so wanted to believe his friend that Abby did feel the same way.

There weren't many people in his life who could handle all his baggage... or who even wanted to.

Abby was one of them.

But months later, he still hadn't found the courage to tell her... and wondered what his old Boss would have to say about that now. Probably head slap him into next week.

Abby moved her head slightly, looking up to find herself staring into mesmerising blue eyes. His mouth was mere inches away and she ached to lean in and taste him… to snuggle into that neck, press her face against his warm skin and just breathe him in.

Something in his expression made her heart beat wildly and he was so close... too close for her to think straight, his overwhelming nearness as intoxicating as the alcohol she'd consumed.

She should go... she really really should, before she did something stupid. Before she embarrassed herself and destroyed their precious friendship.

But she couldn't move... pinned in place by the heat of that intense stare.

And in truth, she was tired... tired of denying how strong her feelings were for this man, of trying to pretend she felt nothing beyond friendship.

She saw his eyes flick between her eyes and her mouth and his hand came up to squeeze her shoulder as he whispered. "Thanks, Abbs. Glad you're here."

His voice was gentle and full of such tenderness that she had to swallow round the sudden lump in her throat before she could reply. "You mean for not keeping you company and not celebrating."

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah... for that."

"Wanted to be here, Gibbs." She'd always found solace in his basement, as well as in his company. Both this room… and him… had always represented safety and comfort whenever she was upset. "I guess when I don't want to be around anyone else, I'd rather be with you. And I knew you wouldn't feel like company much, but figured you really would throw me out if you didn't."

"Would never throw you out." He took a deep breath as well as a decision. "Need you."

The hand on her shoulder slipped up to cup the back of her neck and he tilted her head, and Abby gasped at the feel of his large hand on her skin... so comforting and warm, and couldn't help but lean into his touch.

Gibbs saw the moment when she realized what he was about to do and he moved slowly, giving her ample time to back away. But all she did was widen her eyes slightly as he closed the gap between them and kissed her.

Her response was immediate and eager, and he felt a jolt of desire rush through him. Leaning into both his kiss and embrace, Abby turned and slid her arms round his neck and her fingers into the short hairs at the nape of his neck

He shifted sideways, trying to pull her nearer and frustrated with the awkward sideways stretch across the sawhorse, Abby broke the kiss to swiftly straddle his lap. Pulling her closer, he brought her mouth back to his, kissing her slowly, seductively as she clung to him, undulating her hips slightly against him, making them both moan as his body reacted.

She gasped his name as his mouth left hers and moved onto her neck, lips and tongue tracing the spider web tattoo. Her senses were spinning, her mind trying to catch up with what her body was instinctively reacting to.

Her far too sensible inner voice started clearing its throat and she struggled to listen, wanting so much to give in and take him right here… right now, but her damn conscience wouldn't shut up.

"We're drunk, Gibbs," she eventually managed to gasp out.

His low chuckle reverberated against her throat, making her moan, as he replied. "Ya think?"

It may have taken alcohol to finally break down his restraint, but he'd be fooling himself if he retreated now. He'd denied feelings for Abby for so long... shutting them away in a box labelled too difficult, and he didn't want to any more.

And this first taste of her mouth and touch of her skin, the feel of her in his arms was making his whole body ache with need.

"Wait, Gibbs... God, I can't believe I'm saying this..." She felt her desire threatening to overwhelm her but needed to get this out.

"Then don't, Abbs. Just let it happen." He suckled on her pulse point, which fluttered wildly under his mouth.

Pulling his head up, she rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling and he nuzzled against her face, pressing soft kisses against her skin.

"God, I want you, Gibbs, don't think I don't... I've wanted you like… forever, but I can't leap into bed with you, only for you to push me away in the morning coz you regret it when we sober up."

She felt drunk on the touch and taste of him, her brain struggling not to lose the battle with her hormones.

But Abby had to know that he wanted more than one night. It was about as far from casual as it got for her, but she needed to know Gibbs felt the same. It would just about kill her to have him and then lose him. It would be worse than not having him at all.

But they were both too drunk... and while she knew Gibbs could hold his liquor, and so could she, Abby wanted him to make this decision when he was sober, wanted to be sure this was what he really wanted.

He pulled back to stare into her concerned eyes, cupping her face in his hands, trying to calm his pounding heartbeat. He understood her worries and tried to think through the haze of lust clouding his brain for the right words to reassure her.

"Not gonna regret it, Abbs... never gonna do that." He took her mouth again, sliding his hands into her hair, trying to convey everything through his kiss, knowing his words were inadequate.

She melted into him as he kissed her, letting his touch and taste both soothe and calm her. When they broke for air, she leaned back, curling her hands into the material of his hoodie, before whispering, "This isn't casual for me, Gibbs… want more than a one night roll in the sack."

He smiled up at her, pulling her head down to tuck into his neck, stroking the soft skin at the nape of her own neck. "Don't want that either. Waited too long and I'm tired of pretending. But if ya wanna wait, I can do that."

"I wanna do this when we're sober," Abby explained softly, shivering at the touch of his fingers and pressing a kiss into his neck.

"We can do whatever ya want," he promised, sliding his other arm round her waist, feeling her relax against him, trying to calm his body's reactions to her nearness.

"This isn't the right time, Gibbs, and you know why." She felt him nod as he nuzzled against the side of her face and she raised her head, framing his face in her hands, smiling mischievously. "And apart from anything else, I wanna remember it. My hangovers have a tendency to leave great gaps in my memory."

His sudden boyish grin was cocky, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, I think you'd remember, Abbs."

Abby giggled. "Mmm, confident much, Special Agent Gibbs. I like it." She leaned in to kiss him lightly, memorizing his taste as he responded. "Thank you," she whispered against his mouth, grateful he'd understood her.

"Stay?" Gibbs asked, and Abby saw the sudden flash of vulnerability in his own eyes as if he was afraid she'd change her mind and hurried to reassure him.

"Yeah, of course I'll stay… don't wanna be anywhere else." Abby slid closer, wrapping herself around him, relishing the solid feel of him in her arms and felt his own close round her tightly. "Want us to sleep together tonight... just sleep... and then make tomorrow morning memorable."

And they did... and it was.

The end