Abby sank the remains of her Caf-Pow and dropped it in the trash. She was still on edge. She had no idea why she was doing what she was doing. But she knew if she didn't do it then people would die.
People she cared about. Gibbs, Kate, Tony, McGee... and the man who had insinuated himself into her life and suddenly become as necessary as breathing.
There was a game plan here. She could feel it. And as surely as she knew it wasn't Ari's plan, it had to be someone else's. Someone on her team was going to die, and she was going to prevent that.
She didn't like doing it. Slipping him a little something in his coffee had made him drowsy enough to handle. Docile, unlike the tightly wound tiger he usually was. So when she had secured his wrists, there was no more than a slightly puzzled frown, he made no objection.
Tying his ankles had provoked more of a response, but by then he was secure and could do nothing to prevent her. She hated gagging him, but she had gone that far and preventing him carrying out the mission that would kill him was better than a little discomfort.
Getting back home to free him was the thing uppermost in her mind. Hoping that he wouldn't be angry. Hoping that he still had trust in her, enough to forgive her.
His shoulders were aching, his mouth was dry and he needed to answer the call of nature desperately, but harming Abby was the very last thing from Ari's mind.
She had done what she had done for him. And he couldn't get it out of his head. The girl he had pursued out of curiosity and then devilment, the woman he had wooed and maybe won, Abigail Scuito was all he cared about now. Whose plan, didn't matter.
His war with his father, the plan, all of it. It didn't matter. He had found something that endured, when he looked at Abby all his hate evaporated.
He screwed his eyes closed, and arched his back a little, trying to ease his stiffened muscles. In his own arrogance he had pursued her. Curious about such a being. A woman who feared autopsy, but slept in a coffin. It made no sense. So he lingered in the shadows watching and waiting. He had started to follow her. It was her humanity that drew him in, and her free soul. Something he realised he had never truly had. So he started to infiltrate her lifestyle, at the very edges. Cautiously he had insinuated himself into the scene, careful to watch her but never get too close.
It was the masked ball that gave him his chance. Woo her from behind the mask. So he'd spent an afternoon and several hundred dollars in the purchase of clothing for purely frivolous purposes.
He had taken his time, worked his way to the prize. She wasn't what he had expected, she was smart, much smarter than he had assumed. She was almost child-like in her enthusiasms, but that razor sharp wit he had to watch out for. She was perceptive, with depths that he knew he wanted to explore.
They talked for hours, and danced, and when it came time to unmask, he knew he would. Fingers stiff and trembling, he freed the strings that held the mask to his face. He watched the emotions chase across her face. He was certain that he would see rejection.
He saw regret, concern, uncertainty, but no rejection. He bent his head, and those earnest green eyes gazed into his. Her lips brushed his lips and he deepened the kiss.
That was it. They both knew that they were doing wrong, but something that felt so right couldn't be wrong.
So wrapped up was he in reliving the moments with Abby, that he almost failed to register the soft touch of gentle fingers. Unknotting the scarf around his head, and pulling the other out of his mouth. He kept his eyes closed, tuned in to the sensation of her touch. She freed one hand, and then the other. Slowly he sat up, and groaned.
Her arms slid around him, and he burrowed against her, "water." She whispered. He could think of many things he wanted other than water, but obediently he took a sip from the glass she was holding.
She freed his ankles and he hobbled stiffly to the bathroom, his body aching from being in the one position for so long.
"What do you want to eat?" she called from the kitchen, "Takeaway? or I could cook?"
He licked his lips, and manipulated his jaw a little, the tendons ached, "No takeaway." He replied. He didn't want to share her. Even for a moment or two with someone at the door. His hips and knees were very stiff as he hobbled to the kitchen. Close behind her, he wrapped his aching arms around her. Bent his head to kiss the spiderweb on her neck. "I don't want to share you." He whispered, "with anyone..."
"Jealous, huh!" he could hear the smile in her voice.
"Wildly." he muttered, nuzzling close, senses overwhelmed by Abby. Wrapped around her, he could feel peace settle into his soul.
"Gibbs?" He could feel the question in her voice, his cheek resting against her neck, his lips caressing her shoulder. He could hear the tension. Gibbs was an edgy subject that they danced around. Abby worshipped her boss. Ari... well, he had a different view. The two encounters he had had with Gibbs had ended painfully for both of them.
Ari's shoulder still ached; the damage had been considerable, and since he was still following orders, playing at being the MOSSAD mole in Hamas, he'd had no choice but to continue on. He had lied to everybody that the injury wasn't debilitating; even though it had been weeks before he could move his arm without pain.
His shoulder was throbbing hard now, he was trying to pretend it wasn't hurting, but he couldn't fool Abby. He was a doctor, it was hard to accept advice, and he was well able to take care of himself, so he had treated himself. Ignoring the little voice in his head which was trying to tell him that this was a bad move.
She turned in his arms. It was the shoulder again, she knew it. The scars were deceptively small, but even though the shot had been almost a year ago, the shoulder wasn't properly healed. She reached out, and began to massage and he watched her tend to his shoulder. She had good hands. Her touch was gentle, but firm. The benefits would not last very long but there would be relief for a while.
They were together, for him that was more than he could have hoped for, but the clouds were gathering, and he was no longer sure what he was fighting for.
She sensed his change in mood, she paused and he bent his head and kissed her fiercely. They did not know what tomorrow would bring.