A longer part than usual, and I hope you all like it. *hugs*
Part Twenty-Two
Two days later, the NCIS agents found themselves donning formal wear as they joined the wedding party in a pre-wedding dinner the night before the ceremony would take place. All of the guests involved would be staying over at the hotel where the wedding was being held and the agents were joining them, courtesy of a combination between the NCIS budget and Gibbs' credit card.
He wasn't taking any chances with Abby's safety and had gone to Director Vance to ask for permission for his agents to stay overnight to ensure they were close to her. The Director, somewhat reluctantly, had agreed but only after Gibbs had offered to split the bill.
As Abby's date, he was given an excuse to stay with her all evening, keeping her close with a secure arm around her waist or a thigh brushing hers under the table when they sat down to eat, even as he continuously scanned the room, looking for the man whose image was burned into his memory.
His gut told him Drew was close but neither he nor his agents had found any sign of him. The rooms where the ceremony would take place had been swept for any kind of surveillance equipment and he'd had his agents check out the room that he and Abby would be staying in before checking it himself personally. They'd found nothing, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that either something wasn't right or something was going to happen.
"Are you okay?" Abby murmured, bringing his mind back to the present as the hotel staff deftly cleared away the plates on the table between the main course and dessert. "You had that look again."
"That look?" He repeated, arching an eyebrow as he looked at her. "I have a look?"
She nodded and tilted her head to the side, studying him. "It's the 'something doesn't feel right but I don't know what' look. I remember it, vaguely, from that night you almost kissed me outside my apartment."
Remembering that night all too well, he considered her words and decided it was possible he did have 'a look' like the one she'd described. "It's nothing, Abs. Don't let it ruin your evening."
"My evening isn't ruined. It's not perfect," she admitted, lifting one bare shoulder in a casual shrug. "But Carol's enjoying herself and that's what's important. She's happy."
Seeing that it meant everything to her that the events in her own life weren't impacting her friend's wedding, Gibbs felt his heart swell with pride and affection. "You're amazing," he told her, dropping his voice to a low murmur only she could hear.
Abby blushed, the soft pink spread across her chest, up her neck and into her cheeks. She looked down at the dress she wore, a short, strapless black number she'd bought especially for the occasion. "I... Thank you?"
"It's not just the dress, Abby, it's you." He ran his finger over her knuckles where her hand rested on the table, enjoying the sight of the shiver that ran through her. "You're amazing."
He covered the gap between them and gave her a lingering kiss, oblivious to the reactions of those around them. He didn't see Ziva's smile or hear Carol and Hanna's chuckle. He didn't see Tony's smirk or McGee's blush.
And he didn't see the scowl on Drew Barton's face as he watched from the balcony doors.
The ceremony went off without a hitch, with the exception of a few family members having decided to continue the party the night before into the early hours, and it was with tears in her eyes that Abby watched her best friend get married. She exchanged a soft smile with Hanna, who was crying unashamedly, and let her gaze wander to the audience, flittering over her friends before resting for a few moments on Gibbs.
She drew her eyes away when the happy couple broke their kiss and began to walk back down the aisle, taking the arm of the groomsman who'd been assigned to her so she could follow them to the dining room.
"Ms. Sciuto?" The voice stopped her in the hallway between the room where the ceremony had been held and the room where the reception would be. Abby turned to see a harassed looking woman staring at her anxiously and, after a few seconds of searching her mind, managed to place her as the catering assistant to the chef she'd gone with Carol to hire for the day. "I'm sorry to bother you," the woman began, "but there's a man in the kitchen insisting we've got the order for the main course wrong..."
Immediately conjuring an image of Carol's new father-in-law, a man who'd managed to toast the bride and groom several times over before the ceremony had started, Abby shook her head and turned to her escort with an apologetic smile. "Would you mind going on ahead of me, Chris? It won't take long."
"I don't know," Chris Wilson, Carol's cousin, said with a dramatic sigh and a shake of his head. "Ditched before the reception even starts. It's bad enough you brought your own date, Abs, now you won't even walk into the room with me..." He brightened after a split-second. "Though it means the silver-fox you brought with you is free for a few moments... Think I can get him to dance with me?"
She laughed at the hopeful expression on his face; she couldn't help herself. "Why don't you try that and see where it gets you? Just be warned, he's armed, so no definitely means no."
"Armed and gorgeous." Chris faked a swoon. "Hurry back, honey, or you might really find yourself with competition."
She shook her head and followed the assistant towards the kitchens, walking in the opposite direction to the reception rooms. She thought briefly about letting Gibbs or one of his agents know where she was going but figured she'd probably still make it to the reception before they filed in with the rest of the guests.
On reaching the kitchen, she found the man the assistant had told her about arguing with the red-faced head chef, her steps slowing. He had his back to her but she could already tell it wasn't the groom's father as she'd been expecting; the man in front of her was too thin and had too much hair.
Before she could question him, or start backing out of the room like her instincts told her, he turned around, alerted to her presence by the relief on the face of the chef. His face lit up, his eyes bright. "Abby!"
"Drew." Abby tried to take a step back but bumped into the assistant. "Go and get Special Agent Gibbs. He's a guest at the wedding," she murmured to the woman.
"Ah, ah, ah." Drew made a tut-tut sound and shook his head, pulling a gun from his jacket and drawing a gasp from both the assistant and the chef. "I don't think that'll be necessary. Mr. Redford, my apologies, I'm sure the chicken was an excellent choice. Ms... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name. Thank you for bringing my fiancée to me."
"Fiancée?" Before she could react, Drew lunged forward and grabbed Abby's arm, pulling her against him and jabbing the gun into her ribs. "I'm not..."
"Hush, Abby. It's okay, I've got it all worked out." He gave her a smile that was nothing short of deranged and dragged her by the arm out of the kitchen. "I thought we could get married first, then we can make a run for it. I had a friend I met inside make us passports so we should be able to get out of the country okay, and then your NCIS agents won't be able to stop us. They don't have jurisdiction outside of the US, do they? I was thinking maybe we could go to the UK? I know you don't like the sun, so that rules out anywhere hot..."
His babbled speech confused her and the pace he set was hard to keep up with in her dress and heels. Abby stumbled a couple of times but Drew was surprisingly strong, managing to keep her upright and moving forward.
Before she knew it, they were back in the room where the wedding had taken place, now deserted with the exception of the minister who had performed the ceremony. Drew's smile grew when the minister looked up, the gun in his hand pressing a little harder to Abby's side as he turned around and locked the door behind them.
"Abby...?" The minister took a step forward but froze when Drew revealed the gun he held. "What's going on here?"
"You're going to perform another marriage," Drew told him matter-of-factly, pulling Abby with him up the aisle. "Remember? I called you yesterday and asked if I could talk to you for a few minutes after the ceremony?"
"That was you?" The minister's eyes widened. "You said you and your fiancée would be attending and wanted to see whether I'd be available when you set the date..."
"Which we have," Drew continued brightly. "Today. And since we're all here, let's get it started."
The minister shook his head as Abby tried to get away from the man holding her. "I can't do that. I won't do that..."
"You will." Steel entered Drew's voice. "Unless you want Abby's blood on your hands. I'll kill her and I'll kill myself if you refuse. Could you live with that?" The horrified expression on the minister's face said he couldn't. Sensing a victory, Drew pulled Abby with him as he continued up the aisle, stopping in front of the shaken man. "You can skip the usual speeches. Just get on with the important parts; we have a plane to catch."
He knew something was wrong when Abby wasn't standing in line with the rest of the wedding party. Before Gibbs could open his mouth and ask Carol where her missing maid-of-honour was, there was a commotion from behind him and he turned, his hand automatically reaching for his gun, to find a man in a white chef's uniform and a woman with mascara streaks running down her face, pushing their way through the gathering of guests.
"We need to find Agent Gibbs," the chef called out, pulling the woman with him. "Is there an Agent Gibbs here?"
Gibbs moved to intercept them as his team fought their way through the crowd towards him. He pulled out his badge, revealing it as he reached them. "I'm Gibbs."
"Oh, thank god." Panic, worry and fear shone in the chef's brown eyes. "He has her. He has Ms. Sciuto."
"She called him Drew," the woman at his side sobbed, the hand she lifted to wipe away her tears doing nothing but make the black smudges on her cheeks worse. "He had a gun."
Glancing over his shoulder at Carol and the wedding party, Gibbs motioned to his agents to keep the murmuring crowd as far away as possible and to shield the bride and groom from what was happening as much as they could. "Where did he take her?"
"He said something about them getting married and pulled her out of the kitchens. I don't know where they went," the chef answered. "He had a gun," he repeated, his face growing paler as if it was only just beginning to sink in. "Oh, God, he had a gun."
"McGee, take them out of here. Get some fresh air, some water." McGee moved forward at Gibbs' words and immediately began ushering the chef and his assistant out of the room. Gibbs looked to Tony and Ziva. "Tony, tell Carol what's going on but keep her calm then follow us. Ziva, you're with me."
They made their way through the groups of curious guests. Gibbs followed his instincts and Ziva followed Gibbs, making their way back to the room where the ceremony had taken place. He tried the door handle, disappointed but unsurprised to find the door was locked.
"Go see if you can find someone from the hotel. There must be a spare key." Without looking to check the order was being followed through, Gibbs pressed his ear against the smooth wood, listening intently. He could hear muffled voices, but not clearly enough to make out what was being said or who was speaking. Pulling back, he banged on the door. "NCIS. Open up."
"Gibbs!" Her voice was muffled by the solid wood but Gibbs recognised it in a heartbeat, and doubled his efforts to break through the door.
The lock refused to give even as he threw his weight against it and, when Ziva returned with a stuttering hotel manager in tow, who kept apologising for not being able to find the key, he decided he'd wasted enough time. Pulling his gun from its holster, he took a step back and aimed at the lock, pulling the trigger as the manager's protests fell on deaf ears.
Tony and McGee came running at the sound of a gunshot and it was with a full team of three NCIS agents behind him that Gibbs entered the room.
"Gibbs!" Abby renewed her struggles to get away from Drew when she heard him pounding on the door but the man holding her wouldn't let go, his fingers digging into the flesh of her arm. "Let me go, Drew. I don't want this. You know I don't want this."
"Of course you do." Genuine confusion passed over Drew's features and he tightened his hold on her, not seeming to realise or care that he was hurting her. "This is meant to be, Abby. *We're* meant to be. You know that, don't you? Deep down, you know they're trying to keep us apart but they won't succeed. We're supposed to be together. It's fate."'
"It's not fate, and we're not meant to be together." Abby flinched away from the hand he lifted to touch her cheek, using his knuckles as he still held his gun. "I don't love you, Drew. I don't know you. *You* don't know *me*. You've built up this picture in your head of what I should be like, what we should be like, but it's all based on a fantasy. You've done exactly what Mikel did..."
"No! No, I'm not like him. This isn't in my head." Drew protested vehemently. "You know what we've been through. You felt it, too, Abby, when we met at the coffee shop, when you saw me at the mall. You looked right at me. I know you feel it, too, there's no point in denying it."
"I'm not only denying it, Drew, I'm telling you it's all in your mind. There is nothing between us. There never has been, and never will be." Abby took advantage of his shock, pulling her arm free from his grasp just as a gunshot rang through the building.
As the doors flew open, Abby moved to stand with the minister at the front of the room. Drew stood between them and the NCIS agents who burst in. He pointed the gun first at Abby, then at Gibbs and his agents, then back at Abby, wavering in indecision.
"Put down the gun, Barton. No one else needs to get hurt." Gibbs kept his voice calm but Abby could hear his struggle for control in his voice.
"We're getting married," was all Drew could say, shaking his head. He glanced at Abby again, devastation lining his features at what he saw on her face. "Abby... Please, tell them. Tell them you love me, that you want to be with me..."
Abby shook her head, backing away further when he took a half-step closer. "I'm sorry, Drew. You need help. Please, put the gun down and we can..."
"Don't. Don't patronise me." His voice shook. The heartbroken tone was replaced by rage that made his eyes gleam. "You led me on," he accused, turning on Abby, stalking towards her. "You made me fall in love with you, made me believe you wanted to be with me."
"No, you did that all yourself," Abby murmured, pity warring with her own fear. "Please, Drew. You're not well. Please put the gun down."
Drew pointed it at her in response, his finger shifting over the trigger. "No. Not until I've used it first. Tommy was right about you. He was right all along..."
"Move one more step and I'll shoot," Gibbs called out, reminding Drew he wasn't alone with the forensic specialist.
Hesitating for a moment, Drew looked at Abby, his jaw clenching when he noticed her gaze slip by him to rest on the man standing behind him. "Not if I kill you first," Drew muttered, spinning around and firing the gun in his hand.
Two shots rang out and someone cried out. Abby stood, horror and fear paralysing her, as Drew fell forward, blood from the single chest wound spilling out onto the floor beneath him. She tore her gaze from his lifeless body to find Gibbs walking towards her and searched him for any visible sign of injury.
"You're not hurt," she realised, moving willingly into his arms as he sidestepped the body on the ground. "I thought he'd shot you... I thought..."
"He missed," Gibbs murmured, pressing his lips against her hair as he cradled her against him. "It's over, Abby. It's all over now."