She glanced up when the doors to the lab slid open; any sane person had left by eleven. Not much could be said for Jethro Gibbs' sanity.

"You look like shit."

His eyes rose from where they had been busy studying the ground. ""Ya think?"

She rose too quickly, making a conscious effort to look casual as she walked over to stand in front of him. "I always say what I think. You know that better than anyone—Well, better than anyone but my mother, but she doesn't really count seeing as I never see her and I see you so very much more often than I see her and seriously? What the hell happened to you?"

He rubbed his jaw experimentally. "No one ever said this job was painless."

She inclined her head in agreement. "Madam Director was down here, earlier. She said everybody was fine."

He frowned. "Jen says a lot of things."

She reached out for his face, running her elegant white fingers delicately over the bruise blossoming in angry shades of purple on his cheek. "Nobody loves you till you're gone." Her hand dropped down, fingers sliding down his neck and chest slowly.

He stepped back, shifting to stand straighter. Her hand dropped away but she didn't move, meeting his cool blue gaze with her own green fire. "I'm going to need evidence that'll stand up in court. Can you do that?"

Her laughter was no more than the shattering of glass. "Can a fish swim?"

"Go home, finish it in the morning." He was worried about her. He didn't want his best – only – forensics expert collapsing of sleep deprivation in the middle of the lab.

She shook her head animatedly. "Can't. I've had too much caffeine to sleep. Besides, the faster I finish this up the faster I can get back to processing on the McGreevy thing."

"McGreevy's dead."

She grinned. "Well duh. If he wasn't it wouldn't be a thing."

"But my thing's bigger than his," he affirmed, raising one eyebrow.

She smirked. "Gibbs! I should wash your mouth out with soap!"

He walked to sit on a free stool, facing her. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Well. I do like to be on top. Control's a… I can't use the word "thing" now, you realize?"

He shrugged. "You made it a—"

"Forty-two, Gibbs." She grabbed her wallet from her desk, and turned toward the door. "Coffee run. You want?"

He smirked. "Yes." She didn't have to be looking at him to know what he was talking about.

"It's so much better with sugar, you know?" She tugged her jacket over her lace shirt, and flipped her pigtails. She could feel his eyes running lazily over her body.

"Nah." He got off the stool, walking slowly towards her. "Black suits me just fine."

She choked on her next response. "Gibbs! That's horrible! You should be shot for that. And here I thought Tony was the king of cheesy."

He placed a hand at the small of her back, carefully guiding her out of the lab and down the hall to the elevator. "Yeah," he conceded. "But there's one difference between my lines and DiNozzo's."

And without any warning she was up against the wall of the elevator with his mouth on hers, hard and demanding and tasting of coffee and mint. When he was done, he stood close to her, invading her personal bubble and looking smug. "Mine work."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine, fine. You win."

"Will I make McGee jealous if I take you home tonight?"

She grinned. "No one is pathetic enough to be jealous over a boat, Jethro. Now if you and I were sleeping together, I could give you a list of people to watch out for."

Gibbs stepped away from her, wincing and rubbing his lip where the force of the kiss had reopened a cut that had started bleeding. "Start listing… just in case."

The doors to the elevator slid open, and he strolled out, leaving a stunned Abby in his wake. Shaking her head, she stalked after him, boots clicking on the tile. "That an offer, Gunny?"

He continued to walk. "Only if you want it to be."

XXX

End

He drove her home -- his home. By eleven-thirty the streets were fairly quiet, and the only illumination provided them was given by the street lights. She played with the controls on the radio, flipping between a modern rock station, a country station and a twenty-four hour news station until he slapped her hand away.

"I should've left that thing broken."

She tapped her fingers against her knee. "Not having a working radio is sacrilegious."

"DiNozzo seems to think so. He wouldn't shut up about it until I got it fixed."

She arched an eyebrow, smirking impishly. "DiNozzo ride in your car a lot? …Do you make him call you ‘Sir'?"

He took a moment to fully absorb her implication. "Do you want to walk, Abby?"

She pouted. "You wouldn't do that to me. Besides, Gibbs, I understand that every once in a while we all have the urge to grab Tony and molest him. It's completely natural."

He reached over with his free hand, landing a smack to the back of her head. She burst out laughing.

She wanted coffee; he didn't want her any more caffeinated than she already was. They did not stop. "You're killing me here."

He had the suspicion that he would be more likely to end her life with the addition of more caffeine into her bloodstream. He wasn't entirely sure if her heightened caffeine intake wasn't a subtle method of suicide in itself. There was no moon and the red of the street light in front of them cast her pale skin in a sickening mockery of blood. He wanted to reach out and touch her soft throat, her sharply angled jaw to assure himself that she was as alive as himself. It would be too much. The electric current that had seemed to form itself between the two of them would snap and sizzle and destroy them both if they were to touch.

"I'm twenty years older than you," he said instead.

She tilted her head to the side, studying his profile in the driver's seat. "What do you want, a prize for your math skills?"

"Abby—"There was a warning in his voice. It was paramount in his mind that she fully consider all the ramifications of her actions.

"It's a non-issue. Dating older men is a sign of maturity." The ankh at her throat sparkled in the beam of a streetlight.

"I'm your boss."

"Are you going to list every single reason why this shouldn't happen? Because I don't think I have to tell you that you were the one who started this."

"Yes. And there's always the chance that I made a mistake." He didn't want to say it, he knew how much she valued their friendship and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but he had to be sure that she knew what she was getting herself into.

"We're already friends. This won't change that. Besides, it's not like I'm going to be out in the field. I won't be in constant danger, so I shouldn't affect your leadership skills."

"McGee isn't going to be impressed."

She snorted in surprised laughter. "He'll get over it. We weren't exactly exclusive."

A thought crossed his mind, and he was immediately struck with a bolt of possessiveness. He smothered the emotion almost before it appeared, reminding himself that Abby would do whatever she wanted no matter what anyone else told her. "You going to be exclusive with me?" He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, pressing a bit harder on the gas.

She didn't answer for a while, playing with her hair. "I'm not going to promise that I won't look or flirt. There're so many pretty people out there, it's a crime to let their beauty go unappreciated. But I won't do anything with anyone if you'd feel better that way."

"I would." He was quiet for a few minutes, but finally continued. "My job comes first. It's important you understand that -- my ex-wives didn't."

"Don't compare me to your ex-wives, Gibbs. I'm not interested in marrying anyone. And as for the job thing, what do you think comes first in my life? We're workaholics. Just because of this, that's not going to change."

He pulled up outside his house, slamming on the breaks, jerking the car to a halt. The seatbelts dug into their skin. "Stop dancing around it, Abby." He turned to face her, his hands on her shoulders holding her in place. "We're going to have sex."

She smiled up at him from under long lashes. "That could have been more blunt. I just… don't know how."

"This is going to change things. It's going to have consequences."

She reached down, unbuckling her seat belt and leaning closer to him. "Gibbs. Relax. You started this. It'd be a damn shame if you couldn't finish it." He had only heard the slight Louisiana accent creep into her voice when she was angry. It was strange to hear it in her low, soothing purr.

"I know, Abs. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't get hurt. I promise." She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in against her awkwardly over the center consol. He breathed in her perfume as she stroked his hair.

Finally, he moved away, lightly brushing her cheek with a hand. "C'mon, Abby. Let's go inside."

"I hid cappuccino mix in your cupboard. I need a caffeine fix." He sighed as she bounced from the car, darker than the night as she navigated her way to the front steps by memory alone.

"Believe me," he called after her, "The last thing you'll be thinking about tonight is coffee."

He heard her laughter from across the front yard. "The cheese, Gibbs. It kills."

XXX

End

She woke up alone.

The heavy curtains over the windows of his bedroom had been pulled closed, blocking out most of the early morning sunlight that would have otherwise flooded in to cast the room in a yellowish glow. To Abby, waking up with the sun shining down on her was one of the absolute worst ways one could move from the realm of the sleeping to that of the wakeful and was almost always an assured precursor to a bad day. She knew for a fact that the curtains had been open when they'd gone to sleep earlier in the morning, long before the sun even gave thought to inching its way over the horizon. It didn't surprise her that Gibbs had closed them for her, though it still made her smile fondly.

The bed was comfortable, more comfortable than she had imagined it would be. She hadn't exactly been paying attention to the quality of the mattress the night before, and now took the time to revel in the way it supported her body with a firmness that strangely made her think of Gibbs himself. The blanket was light, and she tossed it aside without embarrassment - the curtains were closed and the only other person in the house was Gibbs. Stretching in the cool morning air, she rose from the bed and made her way into the bathroom on the other side of the hall.

As she showered she let her mind wander back to the night before, smiling mischievously at some of the mental images the remembrance evoked. Abby had learned long ago that the way women described their sexual experiences in romance novels was anything but the truth. It was her personal opinion that quite a few of those authors were high when writing, because the night's events were definitely not a blur. Admittedly, she couldn't remember every touch, every whispered word and nowhere on her body could she still feel his phantom kisses. Her mind had catalogued it all with the same accuracy as any other event. It wasn't in her nature to be unobservant, in her line of work such a trait was the professional equivalent of sticking a postit note to your forehead labeling you as incompetent.

She finished with her shower and, wrapped in a thin towel, padded back to his bedroom. There was a drawer in his dresser which he kept specifically for her clothing, she having stayed over so many nights before in a completely platonic capacity. She tugged on a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt that proudly proclaimed 'God is dead. We killed him.' - her Sociology thesis had focused on Nietzsche, and a friend had thought the shirt fitting. Deciding she had forgone coffee long enough, she bounced downstairs, grinning when she saw the sugar bowl sitting right beside the full coffee pot. Everyone claimed that Gibbs coffee was akin to thick tar, but Abby was willing to suffer the taste for the caffeine buzz that followed. The sugar helped, and after stirring her mug of the hot brew she figured she'd given Gibbs long enough to brood. His house, though old, was still in good condition and the stairs to the basement didn't even creak as she descended.

His hands were moving over the boat in long, graceful motions and she took a moment just to admire the way his muscles worked under the light blue shirt. "Good morning, Abs," he said without looking away from his task.

"Morning," she replied, perching on the workbench with her coffee. "You been up long?"

He worked a shrug into the movement of his shoulders. "No."

It was such a blatant lie that it was as good as the truth. She studied him for a silent minute. "You're not regretting it, are you?"

He continued sanding. "Nope."

"That's good. Because I'd have to smack you if you were, and I'm sure physical violence isn't the best way to start off a relationship."

"Mmm."

She glared at the back of his head. "Well! Somebody's feeling monosyllabic this morning."

He set aside the sander and turned to look at her, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I didn't know that was an emotion."

She slid down from the work bench, setting her coffee aside. "Do I get a good morning kiss?"

He glanced down at his watch. "If you can make it out to the car in five minutes, yes."

She frowned at him. "Really."

His lips formed a full fledged smile. "Yup."

She pouted prettily. "You sure I can't have just one?"

He sighed, giving in easily and closing the distance between them. He tasted like coffee and toothpaste, which Abby had found to be the norm for good pre-work kissing.

She pulled back after a moment, resting a hand on his chest. "That's better." She slid her hand across to his shoulder and down his arm, tugging his wrist up so that she could see his watch. "Damn. We're gonna be late."

He grinned. "Nah." She walked toward the stairs as she spoke. "Sorry, I forgot you were a racecar driver in a past life. Want a travel mug?"

He made an affirmative noise in his throat. She paused on the stairs, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Stop staring at my ass, Jethro."

XXX

The morning wasn't all that sunny, it turned out, a cool breeze gusting harmless looking gray clouds across the equally gray sky. "Maybe it'll rain," she said as she stood on the porch, waiting for Gibbs to lock up.

"Rain messes up crime scenes," he replied, turning to face her. "Destroys evidence."

She sighed and skipped down the steps. "Yes, but it's pretty."

"Leroy! You never told me you had a daughter!" a woman's voice floated across to them. Abby spun to find the origin of the call.

"I didn't know you were on a first name basis with your neighbors, Leroy," she mocked softly, leaning against his shoulder.

"I'm not," was his short answer. The woman strolled across the lawn in a pink jogging suit with a top that left her midriff bare.

"Good morning," she greeted them both, shoving blond hair back from her eyes. She held out a hand to Abby. "I'm Sarah Shaw. Your father and I are good friends."

Abby stared at her as if she were a fascinating blood stain under her microscope. "I'm not his daughter," she said finally, smiling as best she could and nestling herself closer to Gibbs.

Sarah seemed taken-a-back, but her expression swiftly moved from surprise to disgust. "I see. Really, Leroy, I wasn't aware you were so desperate as to hire a girl for your needs."

Abby felt every muscle in Jethro's body tighten. She rested a hand on his back, hoping he'd get the message. "I'm actually his lover," she said coolly, using her height advantage on the woman to stare down at her with as much disdain as she could muster.

"Well, aren't you a little young for him?"

Abby shrugged. "No."

Sarah turned her gaze back to Gibbs. "Rather impolite, isn't she? Though I suppose there's only so much one can expect from one of those devil worshipers. I'd check her pockets before you let her out of your sight, my sister's daughter was one of those heathens, and she stole her own mother's diamond bracelet from right under her nose."

"I'm not too worried," Gibbs was slowly losing patience, and Abby knew she didn't envy Sarah the explosion which she would get the brunt of.

"Well, I guess you wouldn't with that CSI job of yours. Is that how you met this... Individual? Are you rehabilitating her from a life of crime? That's very sweet of you!"

Abby was starting to wonder if this woman was for real. Gibbs turned to her, but before he could speak a man's voice carried across the lawn.

"Sarah?"

The Barbie doll glanced over her shoulder and called out. "Ryan, come meet Leroy's... "lover"."

Her husband was a tall, muscular man with small eyes and shaggy brown hair. He studied Abby with obvious contempt.

"Damn, Gibbs, never woulda guessed you to be into the kink. She's a damn fine piece of ass, but I gotta say, isn't it a bit degrading to bring her out in the light of day?"

Abby knew that Gibbs was going to snap. She doubted if he would physically harm the man, but the look in his ice blue eyes made her wonder.

"Abby," Gibbs said calmly. "Go get in the car."

She blinked, shocked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Go get in the car."

Abby's temper flared. "I'm good, thanks."

"Wasn't a request," he snapped. Her eyes darkened.

"I'm sorry, have I given you the wrong impression--"

"Abby!" he snapped. She flinched back at the harshness in his tone. Furious, she stalked off, giving the three others a disgusted glance and slamming the car door behind her.

She buried herself in her I-Pod until the driver's side door opened and Gibbs slid in to the seat. He barely had time to close the door before she was on him.

"What the fuck was that?!" she exploded.

"Abby--"

"Do not try to defend yourself! There's no excuse for what you just did."

"I couldn't let that man say those things about you."

"I don't remember asking you to be my knight in shining armor."

"And what did you intend to do, exactly?"

"Nothing."

He slammed his hand down on the center consol. "That's my point! You would have just stood there and taken it."

"It's always easier to mock the idiots once they've left. Fights are messy."

"And that right there proves to me that you can't fight your own battles. I always thought you could, but I guess I was wrong."

"And I thought you had respect for me, but I guess I was wrong in that." She jerked open the door, starting to move out of the car but Gibbs' hand caught her wrist and his grip was tight enough to be painful.

"And how exactly are you planning to get to work, Abby?" he asked calmly.

"I'll figure it out."

"Abby. Get back in the car... please."

She stared. "So what. You think now that you've said please I'm supposed to magically forgive you and fall into your arms?"

He shook his head and pulled her back into the car. "Calm down."

She laughed harshly. "Funny, I don't remember me being the one to beat up on the car half a minute ago." He was still holding her wrist as if he were afraid she would flee again.

"I'm not going to say I'm sorry, because I'm not," he told her flat out, catching and holding her gaze. "I admit I could have handled it--you better, but I'm not sorry. I can try to change, not be so protective, but it will take some time and no matter what happens you're still my girl. You can either accept that and try to live with me, or you can get out of this car now and we can forget any of this ever happened."

Her eyes dropped to study the floor of the car intently. He released her wrist, sitting back and waiting silently.

"Alright," she said finally. "But I hope you know that your glare of doom will start losing its effectiveness on me."

He laughed softly, and rested a hand at the back of her neck where her hair separated. "C'mhere," he said affectionately, and she turned into his arms, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

"I hope you know you're the only guy I'd ever let get away with that," she muttered. "And just this once; I don't take orders well."

He tilted up her chin, smirking down at her. "Really." She flicked her tongue over her lips.

"What'd you do to the terrible duo?"

He turned to face frontward, sliding the key in the ignition. "Nothing physical. I think I just wounded their egos."

"...and made them want to run off and kill themselves in their ridiculously expensive pool with a set of chefs' knives? Okay!"

He shook his head. "Sure, Abs."

She grinned. "Excellent."

They were late to work.

He was expecting the stares and whispers from his team when he entered the squad room that morning. He was late. In all his time at NCIS, he couldn't remember a day when that had happened, and his team was not the kind of people to let such a break in habit go unnoticed or unquestioned. DiNozzo was sitting, feet up on his desk, not even making an attempt to mask his inquisitive stare. His eyebrows shot up his forehead when Abby followed Gibbs off of the elevator, pigtails swinging and eyes sparkling with mischief. She too knew that his team wouldn't leave the issue of his lateness alone, but unlike Gibbs she was eager to see the show.

"Morning, Boss," Tony called as soon as they were within a few meters of his desk. His feet slid from the surface and he sat straighter in his chair, eyes moving back and forth between the two of them and an amused smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

"Don't you have work to do, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, trying to convey ‘shut up' in his tone and only succeeding in increasing the curious glint in his lead agent's eyes.

"Just waiting for you," the younger man tilted his head to the side. "Late night?" Gibbs' hand had delivered the expected smack before he was even really conscious of doing so. Again, it only seemed to add fuel to the fire of Tony's determination to find out what caused his tardiness. He decided then and there that he and Abby were going to have a very serious talk about early morning escapades as soon as possible.

Tony's eyes traveled passed him to where Abby was perched on the edge of Ziva's desk sporting a very evil grin. "I bet Abs would tell all."

Gibbs shook his head. "There's nothing to tell, DiNozzo."

Tony rolled to his feet, strolling over to stand in front of Abby. "If there's nothing to tell, then why is she smiling like the very demonic cat that ate the very juicy canary?"

Abby placed a finger over her lips. "I have no words, minion."

He tapped her nose. "Since when am I your minion?"

"Since McGee screwed it up, Ziva refused and Gibbs was promoted."

Gibbs wondered what, in all his years of friendship with Abby, had given him the idea that she would make any effort to hide their relationship from the team. He signed at her to stop while she could, but she cheerfully ignored him, tugging on Tony's tie to straighten it and practically shaking with restrained laughter that he was sure was directed at his own annoyance with the situation. He had been hoping to keep their newly found relationship private until it had been cemented, and he had figured a way to deal with the anger of Jen and the comments from his team.

"Is this a recent promotion?" Ziva asked, getting into the game. Abby glanced at her.

"As recent as last night."

Gibbs winced. She wasn't even making an effort to make it hard for them to guess what she was talking about.

Tony looked back at Gibbs, and he glared, hoping to intimidate him into getting to work and dropping the subject at hand. This, of course, had about as much effect as trying to restrain a quarter horse with a paper streamer. "Did he perform… well, in order to earn the promotion?"

Abby's tongue darted out over her lips and her eyes fluttered. "Oh, I'd say his performance was excellent."

Gibbs could not believe he was witnessing this conversation. Ziva leaned forward. "Was there more than one demonstration?"

Abby's head bobbed up and down. "Well, duh."

McGee, who had been looking between the three of them in confusion throughout the conversation, finally spoke up. "What are you guys talking about?!"

For once proving that she had more restraint than both Tony and Ziva, Abby did not laugh. The other two agents, however, broke out in amused chuckles and snorts as soon as the question was asked. Ziva held up a hand, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you, McGee."

Tony sighed. "I am."

The young man turned to Abby, and she leaned over, whispering something into his ear which caused his entire face to turn tomato red.

Gibbs clenched his teeth and cleared his throat. "I'm going for coffee. Anyone who's not working by the time I get back is fired." He exited the squad room with the chatter of his agents following him into the elevator.

X

The line at Starbucks seemed longer than normal, and he contemplated what he was going to tell the director as he stood waiting for his turn at the counter. He wanted to head off any rumors that would inevitably start circulating before they reached her, and that meant telling her himself as soon as possible. No matter how she heard it, she was not going to be impressed.

He started as a pair of leather clad arms looped around him from behind, and turned his head to meet Abby's apologetic green gaze. Her jacket hung open and her hair was messy, giving him the impression that she had jogged from the office, obviously eager to get some time out of the office with him.

"Hey," she greeted, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Hi."

"Sorry about that. I guess I could have been a bit more discrete."

He shrugged, covering her hands with his own. "What's done is done, Abs. Never say you're sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." She rubbed her cheek against his neck in the manner of an affectionate kitten.

They didn't speak again until after he had purchased his coffee and her Caf-Pow and he was heading for the door. She grabbed his hand, tugging on it until he acquiesced and followed her to a corner table. He sat across from her and tried to catch her eyes.

"Abs…?" he asked finally, after a few minutes of silence.

Her wandering gaze returned to him and she smiled contentedly. "I'm just reveling in the knowledge that I've caught the unattainable Jethro Gibbs."

He hid his laugh behind his coffee cup. "Not that unattainable, Abby. Or are you forgetting the three ex-wives?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Minor details. Not worth wasting brain power on."

He shrugged amusedly, because there were some quirks to his Abby that he would never understand.

"Sure, Abs." She sent a dazzling smile his way, and leaned back in her chair.

"So. How long do you think it'll take Tony to make an inappropriate comment when you get back?" He through up his hands in a gesture of surrender and frustration as she shook with silent laughter at his expense. If it were anyone else, he would have been ready with the glare of doom ™. But it was Abby. So he didn't mind.