Chapter 18
After pretty much running from Franks’ cruelty, Abby finally made it to her sanctuary, her lab. Sighing, she hit the power for her stereo, finding a CD that fit her mood. When Airbourne Toxic Event came on, she smiled. “Perfect.” Now this wouldn’t be what she leave for Jet to listen to, he’d probably come undone even more. But for now, for her, it was perfect.
Moving around, she gathered everything she needed: futon, blankets, pillow, candles, sage and Bert. Going into her ballistics lab, she laid everything out, lighting the slow burning candles and sage. Fluffing up the futon and pillow, she made a bed on the ground, with Bert ready for snuggling. Jet would probably laugh at that, but Bert always helped her.
Standing back, she surveyed her work. Proud with what she’d done, what she’d readied for Jet’s time for relaxation. “Now for music,” she decided. Going to her rack of CDs, she started dancing to the music as she looked for something more soothing for him to listen to.
When they let him go, Jet made his way to the lab area, standing outside and listening to the pounding music. He just watched her move, aware that she was so different from him and yet he couldn’t be more intrigued and more attracted. Maybe there was something to the whole “opposites attract” idea.
Somehow, Gibbs knew Shannon would have liked Abby, with her spirit and soul and her heart on her sleeve. He barely entered the room, just leaned against the wall, watching, knowing she was completely in her element here. The room suited her, even though she was fire and spirit and passion, this clinical side of her mind would be a sight to behold.
He wanted to see her monitoring the equipment, her eyes alight with discovery.
Picking up a CD of Chopin Nocturnes" not her usual music preferences, but a gift from Cynthia " she spun around in her dances moves. And then froze.
A blush stole over her features as her pigtails settled around her shoulders. “Hi,” she squeaked, embarrassed, seeing Jet watching her from the doorway. “How…um…how long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to be charmed,” he said, not peeling himself away from the wall quite yet. “You’re incredible, do you know that? How can you be so childlike one moment and such a woman the next? You fascinate me.”
“Incredible? .I…” she stumbled over her words, not knowing what to say. She knew people saw her as being intelligent, unique, but incredible? Never. “I don’t know, Jet. I’m just me. What could you possibly find fascinating? Most people just think I’m weird or a freak mostly. But fascinating, not so much.”
Covering up her embarrassment, she went over to her music player. Popping the CD in, since she never listened to it and didn’t have it on her iPod, she turned the music up in her ballistics lab. Moving back over to him, she grabbed both of his hands.
Walking backwards, she pulled him after her. “Okay, so I’ve set up my ballistics lab for you. A bed, candles, sage, music, a pillow and Bert. All ready for you to come back to wherever you need to. And when I leave to go give my debriefing, I’m going to lock up the lab so no one can disturb you. I’ll be the only one able to get inside.”
“Who is Bert? Abby, I really just want to be alone…” he began, walking into what looked like a New Age nightmare. He looked around, swallowing hard and shaking his head slowly. It must have been a forensics lab at some juncture but it wasn’t any more. Now it looked like a harem from another planet.
It just underscored how different they were.
Letting go of his hands, she turned to scoop up Bert, her skirt flying around her. “Bert is my best friend,” she explained, giving him a hug, which resounded in a very loud fart. “He’s great for stress relieving.”
Seeing his expression, she turned around and saw her lab through his eyes. Walking towards the candles, she played her hand along the edge of the table. “I know it’s a lot, but I just thought it might help you calm yourself or whatever it is you need.” Keeping her back to him, unable to face his rejection of what she was, she shrugged her shoulder saying, “I can get rid of it if you want. I normally don’t have it out. Just keep it around in case of emergencies like this. Though there’s never really been a ‘like this’ before…”
She was rambling " again " but his expression had her worried that she was only showing him how eccentric she really was. Abby had never been embarrassed about herself before. But suddenly, when alone with him, really alone for the first time, she almost was.
“He um…” Gibbs chuckled, shaking his head. “Did you make that yourself or was it custom made? I can’t imagine there’s a place for a farting hippo on the shelves.” He was already starting to regain the more cultured wording of Jet Brooks but he didn’t want to lose himself either. Not when she didn’t even know him yet.
“It’s okay,” he said quietly, reassuring her. He was touched she’d gone to so much trouble for him.
“Made him myself. I had just come to NCIS and really didn’t know anybody. And I went to the zoo here, trying to sort things out in my head. I found myself in front of the hippo tank, wondering why, even though they’re supposed to come up for air, I never seem to see them breathe. Well, right then, Bert, that was the hippo’s name, he just let some bubbles go, and not from his mouth,” she explained, turning around. Leaning her head on her Bert, she squeezed again. “And he made me laugh. I knew that no matter how hard or lonely things got, that I’d always have my farting hippo to make me smile.”
No one had ever asked her about Bert before. Everyone saw him as an oddity. One of many in the life of Abby Sciuto. Looking up at him, she tried to gauge his face as he seemed to become Brooks again. “Are you sure? I can put out the candles and the sage…” she offered.
“It’s okay,” he insisted. “Came to DC from where?” He wanted to be Jet before he had to be Brooks again. “You’re not native? I’ve been here since…” he trailed off. “Lot of years. Grew up in Pennsylvania.” Unlike Brooks who had grown up in London, Paris, summered in the French Riviera and skied Aspen and the Alps interchangeably.
He knew he was talking rapidly, trying to keep Brooks from encroaching in their time together. Why he was jealous of a person who didn’t even exist was beyond him.
“New Orleans. I’m a ragin’ Cajun as a song says. Complete with gumbo, jazz and a coon dog. Well, I had a coon dog. He died before I came out here.” Putting Bert gently back on the bed she had made him, she walked closer, asking, “Are you Pennsylvania Dutch?”
She almost asked about family, but remembered his reaction from earlier. “Did you like that area growing up?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Irish from way back on Dad’s side, no idea on Mom’s.” She’d passed away when he was very young. “Hated the area. Didn’t want to be a miner. The military was my ticket out since college wasn’t an option.”
He left out that he’d met Shannon up there. “Signed up when I was seventeen and I never went back.”
Leaning against the side counter near him, she asked, “Was your father a miner then? Why wasn’t college an option?”
Her fingers itched to touch him, just to brush his hair back a little. But she stopped herself, knowing that this time for talking was just as rare as their time for other… recreational activities. To distract herself, she just kept asking questions. “You haven’t been back home?”
“Yeah. Dad was a miner first then he opened up a store. Too many close calls.” And Gibbs’ mother had been sick at the time. He didn’t know why he was opening up to this stranger. Maybe it was his vulnerability. Maybe it was the situation. Maybe it was all of it.
He shrugged, remembering the discussions about how they couldn’t afford college, how he should just go into the mines and save up slowly. “Just wasn’t affordable.” Not even Penn State, where he could have easily been accepted.
Then he’d met Shannon, who came from a hell of a lot more than he had. “Military schooled me.” In more ways than one. He’d taken his share of classes, but they’d also taught him how to be a man. “Haven’t been home since the day I left. He’s …my father’s been to DC a few times.” But not since the funeral.
Hopping onto the counter, she smoothed her skirt over her thighs. “You seem to fit my idea of a military man fairly well, except for the hair of course, despite how easily you blend into the richer crowd. Why’d you choose the Marines?”
“Hair was shorter but they made me grow out a bit.” It was too long for him even though he knew by anyone else’s estimation it was short.” He didn’t know how to explain the Marine mentality. “The Marines are a state of mind. You don’t choose the Marines, you just fit. I wasn’t interested in Air Force or Navy, thought about Army, but the Marines and I were a good fit. Perfect fit. Sometimes you just know. Like you and me.”
She nodded in understanding, guessing it was rather like her and forensics, how a girl who looked like her was at home amongst a bunch of equipment. “We fit, huh? How so? Like a silver fox and an ink maiden? Like peanut butter and chocolate?” She held out her hands, wanting him to move nearer to her.
“Silver fox, huh? Old man lusting after a much younger woman.” He had no idea how old she was but he had to be closer to the age of her parents than her own age. “Yeah, we’re like a peanut butter cup. Tasty and can’t have just a little sample.”
He didn’t know how to describe how they fit. They just did.
“You’re not too old. Not for me.” Knowing they had a few minutes until she was needed with the directors, Abby was tempted to tantalize Jet a little more. Pulling him towards her, she settled him between her legs, her bare thighs coming in contact with his body. “Can’t just have a little taste?” she asked.
He crouched a little and anchored her hips on top of his. “Does that feel like I want a little taste? I want to bend you over and take you here. I want to make you scream. I want you to forget who we are and just feel.”
Clinging to his shoulders, she moaned, “No, that doesn’t feel little at all. God, I’ve been waiting all day to feel you there, Jet. Since the first moment you looked at me. Since even before we met, I’ve been waiting. I’ve been waiting forever.”
He was so damn hard again and he couldn’t resist thrusting against her. “Your friends aren’t here to save the day now. Are we on DVD here?”
Rolling her hips against him, she replied, “No friends. No surveillance. Just Bert,” she teased, using her head to gesture to her hippo.
He reached under her skirt, tapping once where she was moist and hot. “I need you…but not here. Not this way. In a bed where we can take our time and I can worship you like you deserve to be worshipped.”
He wasn’t sure he’d been waiting forever for her, but definitely since he’d lost Shannon. “The first time is always special, Abby. Doesn’t need to be rushed.”
She almost came when he touched her, when he flicked against her moistened panties. But when he took his hand away, she pouted. “I can’t tempt you?” she asked hopefully. “Even a little?” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
Probably laid it on too thick with that ‘forever’ line, Sciuto. Leaning forward, she rested her forehead against his, even as her body moved against him, trying to find friction, trying to tempt him to let go. “Pretty sure each time with you will be special, Fox.”
“No, you can’t tempt me. Means too much to me for a little ache to ruin.” Big ache! He brought his hand closer, scenting her, closing his eyes. “Pretty sure you’re gonna be the death of an old man, Inky.”
When he smelled his fingers, smelled her scent on them, Abby bit her lower lip as a wave of desire crashed through her. “Serves me right to try and tempt a Marine,” she said, groaning.
He found a stool and sat down on it, pulling her firmly onto his lap, legs splayed out to either side of his and her pelvis tipped against his, driving them together. “Let go, Abby. I want to watch you let go.” That said and throwing all caution to the wind, he held her hips and rubbed her core over his firmly, guiding her over him in rapid motions. If his self control held out, he might not ruin his pants, but he needed her to fall over the edge for him. Now.
“No death, Fox. Only hours and hours of pleasure,” she assured him. Following after him, she moaned as he settled her straddling his lap. “Finally, not enough, Jet, not even close, but finally,” she said, rubbing along his length. But then he was taking a hold of her hips, driving their bodies together, the friction overwhelming her.
Tossing her head back, she felt her body climbing higher and higher. “Jet,” she cried, “Oh God, yes….oh, yes.”
He barely held on to his self control as she threw her head back, riding his body, using his body for her pleasure. “That’s right, Inky, Let it happen.” That she was giving him control was its own turn on and he rubbed her harder and faster, determined to pull it out of her.
He lowered his head, working the tightened crest of a nipple into his mouth as she cried his name, biting down lightly as he felt her stiffen and then shake.
She was amazed and flushed, not used to someone desperate for her to seek release. And then she was flying, her body tingling as her orgasm flew her up into the sky. As she slowly regained herself, Abby slumped against him, drained from Jet’s attentions.
With a chuckle, he eased her off him and onto the chair. He needed a bathroom or he was going to make a mess. “Bathroom?” he asked her, eyes wild, fighting what he needed.
“Nuh uh,” she countered. “You don’t get away that easily. I may not be able to tempt you, but you’re not running away from me. Not after that.” Grabbing his belt, she pulled him to her. “I may not get to have you thrusting inside of me, but I’m going to have you one way or the other.”
Keeping her eyes on him, she undid his belt and pants. Pushing his pants and underwear down around his ankles, she gave him an evil grin. As she lowered her eyes, her hands moving up his legs, she gasped at the display in front of her. “Mmm…” she moaned, trailing her hand along his length.
“Don’t tease me,” he growled. He knew he should push away, to stumble off and find a bathroom, but he was too close to being gone with her hand on him. “You like?” he asked, surrendering, his body moving into her hand. He wanted to tell her that his was the only one she’d ever see or need, but that was too arrogant for this moment. And he wouldn’t lose this moment for anything.
He wasn’t going to be able to hold off very long and he was going to disappoint the hell out of her.
“Not teasing, Jet. Never teasing. And yes, I like…very much,” she groaned before licking at the drop of pre-cum glistening in front of her. One hand clasped around the base of his cock, the other wrapped around to anchor herself by grabbing onto his ass. Lowering her head, she licked up his length, before lowering her head to swallow him deep.
Moaning against the rigid flesh in her mouth, she started to bob her head slowly, licking her tongue around the veins and ridges.
“Abby, this is gonna be a sprint and not a marathon.” Even saying that took too much concentration and he started to lose control. His body was shaking and he was constricted by his pants around his ankles, which was a damned good thing because otherwise he would be driving himself into her heat.
He brought his hand to his mouth, tasting her. “Can’t wait to devour you,” he whispered, and with her flavor in his mouth, he started shaking unable to hold back any more. “Abby…” he whispered as his body started shivering harder, his balls drawing up.
Feeling his body tense up, hearing his moan, Abby increased her motions, making little noises in the back of her throat. And then his release came gushing into her mouth as she swallowed everything he gave her. Sucking and licking him clean, she only let him go when she was done, still pumping him slowly, wanting his orgasm to drag out.
Making sure she got every last drop, she looked up at him and smiled her evil little grin, pleased that in the end she had almost gotten her way after all.
“Oh hell,” he managed, barely able to stand on his own. It had been a while"a damn long while. He’d been on two back to back ops and had only trusted his hand for company. “Find me a place to lie down before I collapse,” he managed, the aftershocks ripping through him.
Arching an eyebrow, she grabbed his pants and pulled them up around his waist. “It’s a good thing I made up the futon?” she teased as she led him to the bed on the floor. Forcing him to lie down, she stretched out next to him, propping her head on her hand. Watching him, she caressed his face, saying, “I’m that good, huh?” not really believing it.
“You’re good,” he assured. “Been years,” he admitted. “Been so deep undercover for so long I haven’t dated and I can’t allow myself to get close enough to someone to…” He trailed off, searching for the words. “Allow myself….” Gibbs shrugged, unwilling to finish that sentence and lay himself open like that. He righted his clothes and then took her hand, pulling her closer. “Wanted the first time to be special, not fevered groping in your lab.”
Settling her cheek against his chest, she assured him as she traced patterns on his tux shirt, “And it will be, Jet. This was just a preamble, a precursor, a prelude to what will happen when we’re finally alone in that bed you promised. Ah, so it wasn’t my prowess on your skin, but rather years of lack of attention? I’m flattered,” she teased. Serious now, she said, “But I am touched, Jet. That, even though you don’t really know me, that you trust me enough to be vulnerable.”
“Both,” he admitted quietly, pulling her into a tight embrace. “You get under my skin, not to mention into my pants.” He’d never been the kind of guy to sleep on a first date but with her he seemed to be a new person, part Jet, part Gibbs. The best of both men were emerging for her and he couldn’t comprehend what that meant for them both.
He sighed, stroking her hair and tugging her much closer.
She sighed happily and snuggled in closer. “Why do I feel so safe with you? So centered? This feels so wonderfully new but also so comfortably familiar?”
Groaning, Abby realized she’d have to go soon, to give her own statement of the evening’s events. And she knew there was nothing she wanted less than to leave his arms. Raising her head, she looked at the door to the ballistics lab. Seeing it still opened, she smiled. “Speaker phone’s still on,” she told him, not thinking that he really couldn’t read her mind. “When Director Morrow needs me, I’ll hear him call. I don’t want to leave here, don’t want to leave your arms.”
“No plans to let you,” he remarked, giving her a gentle smile. “This is something new and special but I know what you mean. I’m not romantic.” Not normally, anyway. “You shattered the rules.”
He breathed slow and easy, letting her burrow against him and understanding and remembering what this completeness was. He knew he was deluding himself, that there was so much more stress in their world and this was so new and fragile. And he was old enough to know that he had to take what he could from this bond right now, because the world was a cold and lonely place and it was just outside those doors.
Turning back to him, she returned his smile. “Good, because when we’re at your hotel, I plan on more of this, lots more. Lots more of exploring each other. Lots more cuddling. Hope you don’t mind cuddling either. Because you’re gonna have to deal with me. I like to touch and stroke,” she offered, as she laid her head back down on his shoulder, her hand stroking across his stomach.
“Not with the right woman,” he shot back, groaning as she stroked his stomach. At some point she had opened his shirt and he almost purred when her hands moved over his skin, his head falling further back. It had been so long since anyone had wanted to touch him and this was nice. Domestic. Comfortable. Right.
He stopped his thought process before any more loaded words crept into his mind. He had to be the one full of reason, to balance out her impulsiveness. It was nice to be with someone who hadn’t had her impulsiveness wrenched from her forcefully.
“Well, then am I the right woman?” Hearing his sounds of pleasure, she giggled. “Oooh…looks like I found a place you like to be touched.” When his head fell back, she leaned in and started kissing and licking at the pulse point on his neck.
“Time will tell,” he allowed, his natural cautiousness rearing up. “Yeah big strong tough guy likes to be touched sometimes. By a beautiful woman who drives him crazy and pushes him beyond his limits or common sense.”
“Then it is a good thing I enjoy touching big strong tough guys. Well, you in any case. Seemed to have lost my interest in touching anyone else.”
“Good,” he growled playfully. “I don’t share.” Then something occurred to him. “You’re not…seeing anyone else, not interested in anyone else?” He knew his situation had to be clear, but hers could be muddled. “Baby Face…Tim? He has it bad for you.”
“Nope, there’s no one else. Haven’t gone out with anyone for awhile. I got tired of being too much for the guys I was dating. Too tall, too many tats, too much black, too much. And Tim doesn’t have it bad for me. We tried dating once, didn’t work. We just didn’t seem to…fit. We have a connection, but more like friends or siblings than anything romantic.”
“Never enough for me,” he shot back. It was interesting that she and Baby Face had dated. He would have bet that Baby Face pursued her while she was absolutely uninterested. He’d been known to be wrong before.
“You intrigue me, Abby. Elegance and gothic clothes. Self assured but whimsical at the same time. You’re a puzzle. Can’t wait to take you apart and see how you tick.”
Unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, she played along the muscles of his chest, wondering at the feel of him. Normally, the guys she was with rarely had a muscle structure like his, and Abby found herself melting at the sight of him. “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed when all you find inside is a strange array of springs, black lipstick and Caf-Pow. Can you be satisfied with that?”
“And liquid heat,” he said in a low growl, bringing her hand lower. “Already turned on again. Like a thirteen year old rather than a grown man.” Granted, he wasn’t completely hard yet, but he was well on his way. Looked like his body was making up for lost time.
“And that was not a hint,” he said with a chuckle.
“Well, you’re no thirteen year old boy, Jet.” Laughing, she gently squeezed his growing erection. “But don’t worry, I’m going to save this next round for later, when I can spend some more time…exploring your body.” But in the meantime, she didn’t mind having a little fun rubbing along his length.
“Enough,” he said, capturing her hands. Time she learned that turnabout was fair play. He peeled off her panties and stuffed them in the pocket of his tux pants. “Much better. Much, much better.” His hands played over her flesh, dipping with her natural curves, one finger working her bud, while another lightly penetrated her.
She struggled, only lightly, when he caught her hands. Falling back, she laughed a little to cover her sudden shyness as he stole her panties, her breath catching in her throat. But that breath exploded a moment later when his hand started working her flesh. Arching up, she was shocked, when he penetrated her with his finger, that she was so ready so quickly. Moaning, she cried out, “Jet.”
“Rule number one,” he began as he stroked in and out of her heated flesh. “You are mine. No discussion, no debate. You are mine. Understand me?”
Her mind and body were so focused on what he was doing to her that she didn’t understand what he meant. “Rules? You have rules?”
Her moans were increasing as her body started to thrash on the futon. Grasping at the bedding underneath her, she arched slightly against the pressure he was building between her legs. “Oh, God, Jet. Please…don’t stop.”
“No plans to stop. Ever.” He chuckled low, leaning in to kiss her deeply, adding another finger in and pushing them in and out of her soaked center. “Fall apart for me. Then I want you to go up there, knowing I’m drenched in your scent, knowing I’m aching thinking about you.”
“Rules. You. Mine. Nothing more complicated than that.” He realized he was gasping himself as she moved on the bedding, squirming and moaning her need.
Opening up under his kiss, Abby felt the tremors start from deep within her, the sensations from his fingers sending electric shockwaves straight there. “Right, rule number one. I’m yours,” she echoed as her climax crashed down, shattering her into tiny pieces as she moaned his name.
“Don’t get too loud, someone might come running to your rescue and I’ll never be able to explain my way out of this one.” She was so damned responsive and he was so damned charmed. He watched the way her body shook and smiled with satisfaction, slowing his strokes as he sensed her coming down.
“When you’re up there talking to them, know who has your panties in his pocket and your scent all over his hands.”
Gasping, she looked up to him. “Not likely to forget, am I? You’re really going to make me go up there without any underwear?” She was a bit shocked, would definitely be embarrassed, but also extremely turned on.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her body, amazed at the reactions it was giving from just a touch of his fingers. She couldn’t wait to find out what would happen with other parts were touching her.
“Yup. Unless you have a spare pair around here and then I might wrestle you for them. Everything has changed, Abby. You’re mine now. Mine.” And there was a rightness to that, he couldn’t deny it. She made him smile. She made him feel complete in a way he thought he could never be again.
Opening one eye, she gave him a saucy smile, “Those were my spare underwear. The other’s in my bag are from tonight and were a little too…skimpy for work.” In fact, there was hardly any fabric to them, designed for going under an evening dress with no panty lines.
“Good,” he said with a languid smile. “Wish I’d gotten my hand higher up that dress then. You looked spectacular in it. Wear it for me sometime, just you and me. Got it?” Before he waited for an answer, he dipped his head, kissing her hard.
Moaning under him, she opened her mouth as he pressed his lips against her. Pushing her fingers through his hair, she grabbed onto him, arching up against his body. “Got it, Jet,” she murmured against his lips. “With or without panties?”
“Always without for me. Unless I give you permission to be with.” He was testing the waters with something new, something he liked a whole hell of a lot. And he suspected she might be of a similar…mindset.
Using her hips and hands, she rolled them over, straddling him. “Permission, huh? Is that how this is going to be between us…sir?” Her body was tingling again at the new direction their budding relationship was taking.
He froze, looking up at her. There was no way this swapping of roles would be so easy, this give and take so effortless. “Maybe,” he said quietly, completely rocked to his core. “Depends on what you want and what your mindset is. And your role.” When he reached up to touch her, he found his hand was shaking. They’d tapped into something deep and profound.
“Not here. We’ll discuss it later,” he promised.
Turning into his hand, she rubbed her cheek against his palm. His touch heated her skin, her body aching for his, still unfulfilled. Everything about the two of them made no sense. He was older than her, more military and hoo rah, for the good of the mission. She was Goth" well, not really but that was as close as anyone could come to describe her" more free spirit and Caf-Pow, with a farting hippo. They shouldn’t work, they shouldn’t fit because they didn’t make sense. But for some reason beyond her understanding, they did.
“Later,” she echoed.
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