A/N: A NCIS Gibbs/Abby fic I wrote for Chirugal, the moderator of the lovely Gabby forum, for Christmas.

This makes a lot more sense if you've seen the end of season 7 and into season 8, but if you haven't, there are no specific spoilers.

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Candlelit

Abby can feel the annoyance coming off of him in waves. It's not directed towards her, thank goodness - she could normally bear up under his impatience, but it's Christmas Eve. A night to take a breath and let go of the stress. Gibbs never really played by her rules, of course. Especially when it came to holiday joy. She knows that she's lucky whenever he agrees to accompany her to the annual, candlelight Mass.

"Let's hope my car is running when we get there," she says, looping her arm around his. When he stays silent, she adds, "I guess we're lucky that I live within walking distance of the church. So even if my car's battery is dead too, you have a place to crash for the night. Maybe we can stay up late - well, later - and wait for Santa Claus."

Gibbs does huff a bit at that, which is probably the best she can hope for until his beloved Challenger is up and running again. "Kind of sucks that the father asked you to look at that faulty light switch after the service," she tries again. "Someone with jumper cables might have still been around. No good deed goes unpunished, I guess."

The temperature is dropping by the minute, and Abby does a mental calculation of how long it'll take to get to her place and back on the road to the church - ten minutes, at least. "This is faster than waiting for the Triple-A though," she says out loud. "If you think about it, we're saving some poor guy the hassle of leaving his family on Christmas Eve. He probably has a bike or something to put together."

"I know, Abbs," Gibbs mutters at last. Although he's probably only speaking to head off one of her rambling speeches, she takes heart and presses herself closer. He never admits it, but she knows how much he dislikes the bitter cold.

She stays quiet after he's spoken. The air smells like snow, and she just wants to soak it in - despite the cars driving by and the far-off sounds of a few holiday parties, it feels like she and Gibbs are the only ones in the world. The only time she gets close to this is sitting in his basement as he works on his boat, but she hasn't been over to his place in awhile. Things have been even crazier than usual lately, and she prefers not to disturb him in the basement when he's working things out in his head. She tries to keep her visits confined to those rare occasions when she won't be distracting him or when she really, truly needs his company.

Abby thinks that, if he hadn't come to Mass with her, tonight would have been one of those nights. This year has been a tough one for them and their relationship, and she wants to spend the end of it with him, so that he knows that the important things haven't changed. There's still a lot that's been left unsaid between them - not just over the past year, but the past decade - but they've weathered too much together to be ripped apart by anything now. She knows it can go on forever as it always has, and that's something she's learned to live with, almost happily so.

They turn the corner, and her apartment appears, looking warm and inviting. Although she knows that Gibbs will probably want to turn right around and go back to his crippled car, she asks, out of a sense of politeness and hope, "Do you want to come up for coffee?"

"Sure," he replies after a second's pause.

She manages a bright smile despite her surprise, and soon, she's fumbling for her door key and wishing that this didn't make her so nervous. She's shaking, which is ridiculous, considering how often Gibbs has been to her place.

His hand finally covers hers to smoothly turn the lock. "You should've worn a thicker coat in this weather, Abbs," he says.

"Guess so," she answers before stepping into her place and turning on the lamp on the side table. Her small - but real - Christmas tree is lit in the window. She sees him smile faintly at it as she heads towards the kitchen to switch on the coffeemaker. "Want some of the sugar cookies my neighbor dropped off yesterday?"

"I'm fine," he says with a shake of his head as he moves to inspect her decorations.

She moves to join him at the window. "Is Jack coming to visit tomorrow?" she asks, although she already has guessed the answer.

Gibbs shakes his head. "He was supposed to, but the snow held him up. Says he'll try the day after tomorrow." He pauses and eyes the dark sky. "If we don't get covered first."

"This Christmas really isn't going well for you," she says, the apology in her tone, if not her actual words.

He shrugs. "Snowstorms happen, Abbs." He glances at her out of the corner of his eye. "Your mom or brother coming into town?"

"Nah. My brother had to work, and Gloria is visiting with family friends. I mean, it's fine. I probably would have ended up working most of the time anyway, but it's been awhile since I've seen them."

"You have more vacation days saved up than anyone. You should take some time to visit," Gibbs says. "I'll even try not to demand too much from your replacement."

"Liar," she laughs, nudging him with her elbow. "Besides, Gibbs, I have another family here. If I can't see my mom and my brother, I do get to spend that time with you guys. That's not so bad. This isn't so bad."

He moves closer, slipping an arm around her waist. "Pretty close to perfect, Abbs."

Abby shuts her eyes, indulging in a brief but powerful fantasy where he means the gesture as far more than one of friendship. When she opens them again, Gibbs is watching her. Nervousness overcomes her once again - how many times has she claimed that Gibbs is psychic? Although she knows that it's pretty far-fetched, she certainly doesn't discount the theory that he simply knows her so well that he can see every thought that passes through her head. "Snow's started," she manages to murmur. "I guess we should go and jump your car if you're wanting to get home tonight."

His eyes shift away from her face, and he grunts softly in recognition of the large flakes that are drifting towards the ground in lazy spirals. "There's no rush," he replies. "Unless you have somewhere else to go?"

"Not this year," she says, very aware that his hand is still on her hip and his fingers are running over the hem of her shirt. "I don't want you to think that I'm losing my touch, Gibbs, but I'm not tempting fate. You guys always catch a case when I go to parties."

"You sure that's it?" However annoyed he was a short time ago, he only teases her when he's relaxed.

"If you're implying that I'm getting old, Gibbs, I'm shocked!" she says, dramatically lifting her hand to press against her heart. "I didn't think you'd say such things to a lady."

He grins at that, pulling her a fraction of an inch closer. "You'll never get old, Abbs," he says, "even if I do know your real age."

"You're not funny," Abby replies, smiling in spite of herself. She watches the snow falling for a few minutes, luxuriating in how his arm is still firmly wrapped around her. "Isn't your boat going to get lonely?"

"No new boat yet. If you'd been by since summer, you'd know that, Abbs," he rebukes her gently.

"Aw, Gibbs! I didn't know you had missed me so much," she says, before remembering her promise to herself. "I could come over for New Year's, if you want."

He cocks his head. "No party that night either?"

"Plenty of them, but a Gibbs that doesn't have a boat in his basement is a Gibbs that needs some attention," she jokes.

"Abbs," he says, "there are other things to build besides boats. Doesn't mean that I'm starved for attention or that you need to skip seeing your friends for me. Nothing's changed."

And while that's just the sentiment she was hoping to convey to him, Abby finds herself uncomfortable with his declaration of it. "Of course not," she mutters darkly, before she can stop herself.

A slight frown creases the corners of his mouth. "Abby," he begins.

"If nothing's changed, there should be a boat. What happens when you feel the need to burn something?" she interrupts quietly.

"Why aren't you going to all of your parties?" he counters. And although he's already very close, he turns to face her fully and puts both of his hands on her waist. "Maybe, Abby, I don't plan on having to burn another boat."

He speaks in a light tone, but the darkening of his eyes and the grip he has on her tell her that this is no casual comment to be interpreted in a million different ways. Her heart is suddenly beating an uneven, rapid pattern as she realizes that he actually wants her - that he can never see himself not wanting her. "See? This is different," she murmurs, except that a smile is beginning to light up her expression.

"But it's nothing new, Abbs," he replies as her hands slide over his shoulders. His eyes shut as she runs her fingers over his jawline.

"How long?" she asks. When his eyes open to give her an intense look of long-suppressed desire, she smiles. "About as long as me, then. Looks like I've said everything possible to you over the years, except what I should have."

"Some things take awhile," Gibbs says, lifting his hand to back of her neck.

She's only a few millimeters from his lips when she asks, "Is your car battery really dead?"

He laughs. "Yeah, Abbs. But I probably would have invited myself up anyway."

"Thank goodness for that," she replies before kissing him.