Part Nineteen
While spending time with Ziva was always nice, Abby couldn't help but wish she was somewhere else. It had hurt when Gibbs had given her the order to accompany Ziva to her apartment, making it clear to both her and his agents that he wasn't going to open his door to her and offer her his home.
Her hand tightened around the key she'd taken out of her purse, the sharp edges digging into her flesh, leaving an imprint against her palm.
She hadn't wanted to hurt him but she knew she had. She hadn't wanted to upset him but it was obvious that he was.
And everyone knew it, too. She curled up on the bed in the spare room of Ziva's apartment, hating the sensation of tears stinging her eyes. He'd always been there for her in the past, always been willing to have her stay over at his place if she was scared or in trouble. It seemed ironic to her that that would change after they'd become lovers but a little voice at the back of her mind told her that she only had herself to blame.
She didn't know what to make of their falling out; it was so rare for them to be at odds with one another. Was it the end of their fledging relationship or just a hurdle they had to try and get over?
"Abby?" Ziva's voice was soft, almost timid. Abby looked up to find the other woman standing hesitantly in the doorway, a look of absolute sympathy on her face. "Are you okay?"
"Would you believe me if I said yes?" Abby tried to smile but couldn't hold it in place for long.
"Oh, Abby." Ziva crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, letting a hand rest on Abby's shoulder as the black haired woman curled up further, her head resting on Ziva's knee. "It will be okay. We will catch Mawher, and whoever is behind this, I promise."
Abby closed her eyes, wishing the reassurances were enough. "Can you promise to make Gibbs like me again?"
"I would not need to do anything to keep that promise, Abby. Gibbs likes you. He loves you," Ziva corrected quietly, her hand stroking Abby's hair soothingly. "We all know it. You are his favourite, yes?"
"I was his favourite," Abby muttered. "Then I screwed it up. I should've known I would..."
"You have not screwed anything up." Ziva kept her voice quiet but there was a stern note to it that caught Abby's attention. "You and he may have had a falling out but you will make up again. You mean too much to one another not to do so."
Opening her eyes, Abby shifted so she could look up at her friend. "You don't understand, Ziva. Things are... They're different now."
"Because you are lovers, yes?" Ziva arched an eyebrow at the look of surprise that passed over Abby's features. "Did you really think we did not suspect? You did not see him when you were in hospital, Abby, and you did not see yourself when he went to Mexico. You have had romantic feelings for one another for some time now. It makes sense that you would chose to act on those feelings after almost missing out on the opportunity."
Abby stared at her, speechless. After a few moments, she sat up, running her fingers through the hair of one pigtail. "You know? You all know?"
"We suspected," Ziva corrected kindly. The smile that had appeared on her face faded as she remembered where their confirmation had come from. She hesitated, not wanting to make Abby feel worse but feeling her friend deserved to know the truth. "It was confirmed when we saw some of the photographs that had been taken of you."
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Abby bit down on her bottom lip. "I know there were photographs but no one would tell me what they were of."
"I will tell you if you are sure you want to know." Ziva's expression was solemn. "No one wants to see you upset any further, Abby."
Nodding, Abby considered whether she really wanted to know or whether she'd prefer to live in blissful ignorance. Reminding herself that she wanted to be able to go back to the Navy Yard and work the case, she squared her shoulders and held Ziva's gaze. "Tell me."
As Ziva explained what they'd found in the apartment above Abby's own, she reached out to take her friend's hand. She told her about the photographs that clearly showed how close Abby's relationship with Gibbs had grown, about those that had been taken of Abby in various situations over an extended time period. She told her about the television screen split into mini screens with a live feed from each of the cameras found in Abby's apartment and tightened her hand around Abby's own when tears slid in earnest down Abby's cheeks.
"We will find him," Ziva vowed, drawing Abby against her, resting her cheek on the top of her friend's head. "Believe me, Abby, we will not let him get away with this."
Her promise was heard but Ziva wasn't sure if it was believed. Abby cried herself to sleep, exhausted by the events of the previous twenty four hours and sickened by the invasion of her privacy. When McGee arrived two hours later to relieve his teammate, it was to find Abby asleep and Ziva more troubled than ever.
"Is she okay?" McGee asked, keeping his voice down after being told their charge was sleeping fitfully in the guest room.
Ziva gave him a look that suggested it was a stupid question, only to shake her head and sigh heavily. "I am worried she might not be," she admitted, shrugging into her jacket as she prepared to leave her apartment and head back to work. "Tell her I will call if we learn anything new."
"I will." McGee watched her go, locking the door securely behind her before crossing over to the couch, sitting down and letting his head fall against the back of it in exhaustion.
On arriving at the Navy Yard, Ziva headed straight for NCIS Headquarters and, once past security, straight to the squad room to get updated on the case. She was disappointed that there hadn't been any break through though pleased that Tony was able to tell her they thought they'd identified Abby's stalker.
"He does look familiar," Ziva murmured, studying the photograph of Drew Barton. "I believe I have seen him before."
"Probably, if he's the guy Abby was talking about. We'll need her to make a positive ID to be sure." Tony ran a hand through his already tousled hair, his green eyes tired. "Barton was Mawher's cellmate for five years. He was released two months ago, around the same time as Tommy Doyle. They were known to associate with each other inside so even if he's not the guy Abby saw, it looks like he was Doyle's partner in everything that happened to us."
Ziva wrapped her arms around her waist, steeling her spine against a shiver as she stared at the image on screen. "He is more than likely behind Mawher's escape. If they are working together..."
"Boss is up talking to Vance about setting up another safe house, but I don't think Abby'll go for it. She won't want to be away from everyone she knows right now." Tony stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. "Makes you wonder, if they're working together, which one of them is more obsessed with her and what'll happen when they realise they're each other's competition."
Not wanting to thinking about it, Ziva turned away from the screen and studied him. "You are tired, Tony. Perhaps you should go down to the lab and get some sleep on Abby's futon? I'm sure Gibbs will not mind."
Tempted, he ran his hand through his hair again and looked up at the stairs leading to MTAC and the Director's office. "I could use an hour of shut eye," he admitted. "But..."
"No buts," Ziva interrupted. "I will tell Gibbs I sent you and we can call if we need you."
He gave her a grateful smile and left towards the elevators, his steps slow and sluggish. Ziva waited until he was gone before taking a seat at his desk, ready to continue his work. When Gibbs appeared almost an hour later, she was engrossed in reading the criminal profile that had been created on Barton when he had first been arrested.
"Done something different with your hair, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked dryly, walking around to his own desk.
Startled momentarily by the sound of his voice, it took Ziva a few moments to react. "Tony is sleeping in Abby's lab. I told him to go," she added when Gibbs looked up. "He is shattered, Gibbs. He is still recovering from his injuries..."
"I know. It's fine." Gibbs shrugged, the conversation over as far as he was concerned.
Ziva, however, had other ideas. She picked up the file and stood, heading for her own desk before changing track and heading to his. "Abby is afraid you no longer love her," she said bluntly, holding his gaze steadily when he looked up at her. She shrugged a shoulder. "She used the word 'like' but I understood what she meant."
Gibbs held her gaze for a moment before returning his attention to the open file on his desk. "None of your business, Agent David."
"It is my business when my friends are hurting," Ziva countered. "You are both my friends, yes?" She waited a few seconds for him to answer, unsurprised when he didn't. "If you love her as much as I believe you do, you will not allow her to suffer any longer."
She turned on her heel and retreated to her desk, knowing he wouldn't respond. She was satisfied, however, less than five minutes later when he got up from his desk, cell phone in hand, and started towards the elevators.
Looking up when the bell rang to announce it had arrived, Ziva expected to see Gibbs walk into it and leave. Instead, she saw McGee and Abby disembark, a distressed expression on the forensic specialist's face. Getting to her feet, she reached them just in time to hear Gibbs ask what was wrong.
"Mawher called her," McGee answered for an obviously shaken Abby, who stood with her arms wrapped around her middle, looking as lost as Ziva had ever seen her. "He said he was in trouble, asked for help, and then the line went dead."
"Trace it," Gibbs ordered brusquely. He looked as though he was about to reach out for Abby but changed his mind, making Ziva sigh as she moved past him to wrap her friend in a reassuring embrace.
"You really don't have to be here, Abby," Tony told the forensic specialist as they made their way up to her apartment. "We could've done this without you."
Abby shook her head but tightened her arms around her middle. "I need to get more clothes, and my bridesmaid dress anyway."
They were all a little disturbed when McGee traced the phone call as originating from Abby's apartment and, despite their assurances that she could have stayed at NCIS with Ducky, Abby had insisted on joining them.
"You are still going to be in the wedding?" Ziva asked, glancing at Gibbs to see what his reaction was. Other than a tightening of his jaw, he didn't seem to have one. "Does your friend know what is going on?"
"I told her," Abby said as they reached her floor. "She said she'd understand if I backed out but I can't do that to her. She's been planning this forever..."
Her voice trailed off as they reached her apartment door. Wordlessly, the team moved into position, with Gibbs and Tony leading them into the apartment, Ziva providing them with back up and McGee lingering outside with Abby until it was deemed safe enough for them to enter.
Walking through the door, Abby found herself looking around, trying to see if there was anything out of place or missing. She couldn't see anything out of order but the skin on her arms prickled and she found herself squaring her shoulders against a shiver.
"Can I go and get my things?" She asked Gibbs quietly, not wanting to spend any longer than she had to in her apartment.
Gibbs nodded and looked to his agents. "Go check upstairs," he ordered his agents, following Abby as she made her way into her bedroom.
Her sense of unease only grew as she began to gather items of clothing, her hands trembling as she opened the first drawer of her dresser. She was just about to pick up a handful of underwear when she changed her mind, shaking her head and backing away. "Maybe I'll just buy new stuff," she murmured, unable to get the thought of someone else going through her things out of her mind. "The dress is the only thing I can't really replace."
"If you don't feel like going to the mall yourself, I can send Ziva," Gibbs offered, the sound of his voice startling her. He moved to stand behind her, his arms slipping around her waist. "Come home with me tonight?"
It surprised her that it was phrased as a question, not an order. Turning in his arms, Abby looked up at him. "Are you asking because you want me to or because you feel like you should offer?"
"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want you there, Abby." He lifted one hand to her face, running a finger over her cheekbone before cupping her cheek with his palm. "I don't want you anywhere I can't reach you if you need me. And I don't want you thinking I don't love you - because I do."
Her eyes stung and she leaned into his palm. "I love you, too."
"I won't let anyone hurt you, Abby," he murmured, his voice a touch lower than normal. "Let's get your dress and get out of here."
She turned away from him reluctantly and walked towards her closet. Opening the door, she lifted her hand instinctively to reach for the dress she'd left hanging up only to recoil in horror, a cry she wasn't aware of making escaping her.
In a heartbeat, Gibbs was beside her, gently turning her away while calling for his agents.
She closed her eyes and pressed her face against his chest, clinging to him desperately but nothing he said or did could displace the image of Mikel Mawher's lifeless body hanging in place of her dress.