A/N: Also for the creative drive for the summer hiatus over on the Gabby forum - 'investigate' prompt! This one might be taken and reworked into a larger story sometime in the future.

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They watched the suspect through the one-way mirror, sitting quietly and frowning at the tabletop.

Gibbs shot a sharp glance towards the man next to him. "I can translate."

"You know that's against protocol, Agent Gibbs," Morrow replied. "You can't investigate and interpret at the same time."

"I interrogated that Russian just last month," he ground out.

"You're fluent in Russian. And he confessed in English anyway." The director held up a hand before his agent could protest again. "I have found someone more than suitable. She has the necessary clearance, and her ASL hasn't been rusting away since the eighties."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "Who is it? Not FBI."

"Far smarter than that," Morrow said with a smile as he headed towards the door. "Our new forensic scientist has more than a few useful abilities on her resume. You should have gone to meet her in the few weeks since she's been here."

"Lab isn't my favorite place," Gibbs muttered.

The director stopped with his hand on the doorknob, making his agent pull up short to avoid running into him. "By all means, avoid her and the lab when this is done. But try not to scare her off in the meantime," he said, giving Gibbs a meaningful look before pulling open the door.

Gibbs moved around the director, barely acknowledging the introductions to the girl waiting in the hallway. Black hair, tattoos and a t-shirt with skulls dancing down the sleeves told him immediately that she would be trouble. And when she smiled easily in the face of his disapproval, her green eyes lighting up with amusement, he realized that she was also beautiful. Big trouble, he amended silently.

"Don't take anything he says personally, Ms. Sciuto," Morrow was saying when Gibbs' head cleared.

She smiled again. "Call me 'Abby', Director," she said. Her voice was rough and warm, like she had just taken a shot of bourbon. "And I won't."

The director gave his agent one final glance before turning away, back towards the upper levels of the building. When Gibbs looked at his new companion, her attention was already on him. "How old are you?" he asked, annoyed by the way she was studying his face.

She raised an eyebrow. "Old enough to know not to answer that question," she replied. "Older than you think I am."

Gibbs frowned and glanced at the door to the interrogation room. "And you know ASL?"

"My parents were deaf. I was signing before I was talking." She leaned in a little closer, letting him smell the sweet scent, almost like cherry flavoring, that surrounded her. "And you sign a little too, don't you? So, we both know you'll be double-checking. You're never going to believe what I tell you on faith."

He blinked. "Rule number three."

"Huh?"

He shook his head. "Later. Let's get this over with."

Abby laughed softly. "'Later'?" she echoed. "Does that mean you're not marking me down as the next victim of your run through forensic scientists?"

Gibbs paused and looked at her. She was huge trouble, he reminded himself. But, even if she was, it seemed that he couldn't do much about it. He could feel the hints of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "We'll see."