Sep 22
Fame is the scentless sunflower,
With gaudy crown of gold;
But friendship is the breathing rose,
With sweets in every fold. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, "No Time Like the Old Time"
Tim was not sure how his feet had made their way to Abby's lab, but he knew why. Even on autopilot, he knew the Goth would protect and comfort him in her own way.
He definitely knew what was troubling him. But he couldn't explain it to Ziva; she simply would not understand. Tony would tease him relentlessly. And while Gibbs scared every bad guy in the US, he couldn't do much about this.
Abby could. Or at least she would know how to make him feel better. She would find something for him to take his mind off it. She would hug him and find some way to make it all well again.
The lab was empty. This was a surprise; Abby practically lived there. She could be found there on weekends and late into the night. It was only midday on Monday; she couldn't have gone far.
As if on cue, the elevator dinged and the Goth emerged, smiling brightly as normal. She caught sight of him and her face fell slightly.
"What's wrong? Tell me and I'll kill them and leave no forensic evidence," she promised, fiercely hugging him.
He drew strength from her bear-hug. "I don't want you to kill anyone," he began.
"Is it Tony? I can make him suffer," she grinned.
"It's not Tony," he answered. "I was at a store yesterday, just buying my groceries, when someone recognized me as Thom E Gemcity."
"Is that good or bad?" she checked, pulling up two chairs and almost forcing him into one.
"Bad," he sighed. "Everyone suddenly wanted my autograph and a word. And then people started calling their friends and family and I was pretty much mobbed."
"Poor Timmy," she cooed, hugging him again. "You want to be like Gibbs – a silent hero. Writing books under a pseudonym, not wanting attention. That's so sweet."
He smiled to himself as she continued to hug him. Abby could make anything right.