Disclaimer—I do not own NCIS, the characters or much anything else for that matter. What I do have are my dreams and my imagination. Spoiler Warnings for the entire show from beginning to this season's end. I also firmly believe in a writers claim to artistic freedom. I have tried to stick to what I know is canon in these stories, but sometimes in order for the story to really work I will need a little wiggle room. So I won't ask forgiveness, just patience and a little understanding. Please see the Prologue for other explanations.

The 23rd Psalms of NCIS; 2nd verse— Abby

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters.

Abigail Scuito was a study in contradictions. Her outward appearance as a dark Goth drove many people to the other side of the street. Her inner bubbly personality drove other people to the limits of their patience. The tattoos on her body made many people stop and stare disapprovingly, while her loving smiles could melt the coldest hearts. Abby's spiked collars and huge boots were a façade to the fragile woman inside who longed to be held and comforted. Crossing Abby while she was on the rampage could earn you a reminder that she could kill without leaving behind any forensic evidence; while her giganormous hugs could envelope a person and drive away a dark cloud. Most people on first glance would picture her dancing in graveyards at night but they would only be partially right. Abby would party in a graveyard on Saturday night and still get up and go to church on Sunday morning. She would party at the wildest of clubs till all hours of the morning and yet she could be found bowling with some of her dearest friends who happened to be nuns. She had many friends and many close friends, but she was reluctant to give her heart away in a whim.

What only one person knew about her was that while black was her favorite color to wear; she loved nothing more than to sit in shade of large tree in a green park. Her loud screaming metal music left behind for the quiet of a Sunday afternoon beside a shaded lake or small stream. Childhood memories of sitting under trees full of Spanish Moss lazily fishing the nearby bayou helped her forget the horrors and stress of the week at work.

The only person who had ever truly cracked into her armor was her very closest friend and boss, one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The only way he had found out her true self was after years of friendship; and that one particular day of self appointed 'protection detail' as he called it after she had been targeted by a deadly stalker boyfriend. Still afraid for her safety even though the stalker had been behind bars for a long while, Gibbs, as she called him most of the time, followed her from church every Sunday afternoon to make sure she was safe. When he spotted her with his binoculars spreading out a black blanket she had carried on her arm and sitting under the shade of a large tree next to the shore line of Lake Anna, he decided to let her have her privacy. He tried to concentrate on a crossword puzzle in the Sunday paper while keeping one eye on 'his girl'. After being stuck on a clue for several minutes he looked up and saw that Abby's shoulders were shaking and she had her legs drawn up close to herself. He got his binoculars and confirmed to his concern that she was crying. Unsure as to whether he should reveal that he had been protecting her from afar all this time, the thought that Abby was crying without anyone to comfort her made up his mind for him. He quietly got out of his car and walked toward where she was sitting on the bank of the lake. He could now hear her sobs and it broke his heart that he had let her cry this long without his reassurances.

"Abby what's wrong?" Gibbs asks quietly not wanting to startle her.

"Oh, Hi Gibbs, get tired of sitting in your car?" She answers patting on the blanket next to her for him to sit down.

"How did you know I was there?" he asks surprised but then says, "That won't change my question."

"Nothing is wrong, at least nothing that either of us can change now."

"Then why were you crying?" he asked again knowing she would avoid the topic at all costs if she didn't want to answer.

"Sometimes it is just good to cry. It lets me get out everything I have to hold in all week from all that we have to see and deal with."

"So how can that not be bad?"

"I know that I am safe here. I know that you are over there watching me like you have since the first Sunday after Mikal was put in jail. And Gibbs, not many people have a yellow Charger. So I feel peaceful enough here that I can let my emotions out without worrying about anything."

"But why are you crying today Abs?" He knew she needed to say what was hurting her in order for it to start to heal.

"Well on top of everything else that has happened, today is the anniversary of my parent's deaths Gibbs." She said beginning to cry again.

"Oh Abs I'm so sorry I forgot, I knew it was this time of year but everything I forgot the date." He said drawing her closer to him.

"It's ok, you're here now." She let him hold her close while she cried out her grief for a few minutes. When she began to reach inside his coat pocket for the handkerchief she knew he kept there, he took it out for her and wiped off the tears that had made dark trails down her face.

"What is it that you like so much about this place Abby?" He asked after a few minutes of silence. He stared at the gentle waves from a passing family fishing boat.

"It reminds me of sitting in the bayous back home in New Orleans." She said as she cuddled close to his side when a cool breeze began to blow off the lake, "There were times that living in a home with deaf parents would get to be too much and I would go out and sit and stare at the water until I could find the peace I was looking for. Then I could go back and be a good daughter and care taker for them."

"But what about your music and the partying and your friends; couldn't you turn to them?" he asked as he played with one of her trade mark pigtails.

"Yeh, I did at times Gibbs. But one Sunday at church the pastor read the 23rd Psalm and the second verse just really made sense to me. So I went and tried it that afternoon. It really worked better than anything else I had ever found. Now I do my best to go out to a green place beside a quiet lake every Sunday afternoon and give myself a time to rest."

"That's good Abs," Gibbs said as he kissed the top of her head, "I'm glad you have this outlet."

"And now I always feel safer knowing that you have been watching over me."

"I think you have a lot of angels watching over you now Abby."