Abby Sciuto grinned from ear to ear as the elevator chimed its arrival at the basement level. She bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet, barreling through the doors as soon as they opened--only to run head-first into a rather large body that smelled suspiciously like sawdust.

"Gibbs!" she laughed, quickly sidestepping to clear a path for him. "Heading home?"

Special Agent Jethro Gibbs allowed himself a rare grin as he glanced at his forensics specialist. She was in typical form today: sleeveless black top and a short, slinky skirt, the multi-layered material of which cascaded down over her spiderweb stockings. "Something like that," he answered, his gaze focusing on her stylishly untied footwear as he stepped into the elevator. "Like the combat boots."

"Thanks. A girl needs the proper accessories, you know."

"So, what brings you down here so late?" he asked, pressing one of the floor buttons. As if he didn't know.

She shrugged, stalling. "Oh, you know, this and that. Checking on some things..."

"Go home, Abbs; it's late," Gibbs said, shaking his head in amusement.

Abby shot him a lopsided grin. "On my way!" she managed to get out before the doors closed completely, leaving her alone in the hallway. She immediately turned and headed for the set of sliding doors, her smile turning predatory.

Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard had just slipped out of his scrubs and was cleansing his hands with sanitizing gel when the doors to Autopsy hissed open. "Did you forget something, Jethro," he called, not bothering to look over his shoulder.

Silence. And then darkness descended as all the lights went out.

Ducky froze, considering a multitude of potential scenarios. Power failure? No, he could see light from the hallway reflected in the various metal surfaces around him. Surprise party? Here, in Autopsy? No, his birthday was still five months away. Another terrorist attack? God forbid...

The muted clunk of boots echoed through the bay. Swallowing his apprehension, he finally turned to meet his late-night visitor--and immediately saw the distinct silhouette of twin pigtails. He released his breath audibly, smiling as his lover slid up against him and planted a wet kiss on his cheek. "Abby..."

"I want you," she whispered into his ear, adding a touch of tongue for good measure.

Ducky shivered, hands automatically wrapping around her. "This late, it'll only take us about twenty-five minutes to get home, Love."

"No," she said, running her hands down his back until she reached her goal. "Here. Now."

"Abby, you know we can't--" The words melted into a groan as she squeezed his buttocks through his slacks, clenching and releasing mercilessly in a rhythm to which his body was definitely paying attention.

"I want you..." Abby repeated, kissing him hard.

He responded instinctively, his tongue parting her full lips, tickling the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. His hands roamed over her body, touching and teasing her in all the right places until she trembled and broke their kiss.

"Now, Ducky," she panted, toeing off her boots. "I need you now."

"Abby," he began, his voice harsh with arousal, "we can't; you know that. Not here."

She smiled, the action barely visible in the darkness. "Don't tell me you've never broken the rules? Never lived on the edge?" Deft fingers pulled his undershirt out of his pants. He hadn't finished putting his dress clothes back on, much to her delight.

"Not in a government facility that has security cameras everywhere," Ducky emphasized, trying in vain to stop her progress. But she was too nimble for his large hands. Before he'd even finished the sentence, she'd already unzipped his trousers and slid her fingers inside his boxers.

"I've disabled the camera in Autopsy," Abby whispered against his mouth, grinning at the helpless sound that escaped his throat when she wrapped her hand around his half-hard length. She had him now--literally and figuratively.

"Abby--" he protested meekly. She chuckled into his ear, the raspy, erotic sound overriding the warning klaxons blaring in his head.

"Don't worry," she said. "The short circuit in the camera feed is only temporary."

"How temporary?" Ducky asked, drawing in a shaky breath.

Abby smiled, resting her forehead against her lover's. She rubbed their noses together before answering, "Long enough." The smile faded then, the intensity returning. "Please make love to me, Ducky. I've been throbbing all day."

Recognizing a lost battle when he saw one, the good doctor pressed her hand against his groin, urging her to continue fondling him. "No rubbing your thighs together?" he breathed, sucking on one of her earlobes.

"That just made it worse," she whispered.

"Oh, you poor thing..."

"Ducky--"

He cut her off with a searing kiss of his own, slanting his mouth against hers so his tongue could plunge deeply. Abby whimpered, the sound igniting their passion. Still jerking his cock, she used her other hand to pull him with her, somewhat roughly, until one of the autopsy tables stopped their momentum. Ducky quickly hoisted her up onto the cool metal surface and then fumbled blindly for the controls underneath.

With an audible hiss, the table finally lowered some until Ducky locked it into place at just the right height. Still plundering his lover's mouth, he shoved his trousers and boxers down, and proceeded to press Abby back onto the table, parting her long legs and pulling until she was perched on the edge, open and ready for him.

He slid his hands slowly up her thighs, pushing the fabric of her skirt as he went. The part of his brain still functioning was considering how he was going to remove her decorative hose without ripping them altogether, but that thought evaporated as soon as his fingertips encountered a smooth fastener on her upper thigh--with a matching one on the other side--both holding her stockings in place. Sliding one hand further up, all he felt was soft, warm skin and the silky material of her garter belt...and nothing else.

Ducky pulled back from the kiss, equally stunned and amused. He tsked softly. "You're a very naughty girl."

Abby smiled. "So punish me," she challenged, wiggling her bottom against his burgeoning erection.

Taking himself in hand and pumping rapidly, he leered at his lover. "Mmm, punishment it is then."

Once ready, he guided himself through Abby's delicate folds, taking a few seconds to make sure she was ready for him. Oh, yes--she was wet. Very wet. Then he plunged forward, sheathing himself in her moist warmth with one hard thrust. She arched her back, squeaking in surprise and scrabbling mindlessly for purchase against the seamless metal above her head. Ducky held himself still as she writhed, watching for signs of genuine discomfort, but there were none. Abby pressed against him, inner muscles clenching in silent counterpoint to her harsh pants, and the lascivious smile she wore told him all he needed to know.

Pulling almost all the way out, he breathed, "Yes...you've been very bad." Had he not been holding her hips firmly, his next thrust would have shoved her further across the table. Her mouth opened wide as he jarred her, a guttural sound trickling out like a slow leak. She trembled, wrapping her legs around his waist to draw him impossibly closer.

Ducky wasn't particularly fond of this hard and fast lovemaking--slow and gentle was far more his style--but Abby loved having him this way. The look of pure ecstasy on her face always fed his own ardor, and this time was no exception. Yanking up her top, he buried his face in her ample bosom--so conveniently unfettered for this occasion--nipping and sucking and marking her as his own while he pistoned in and out of her willing body.

Abby cried out as he latched onto her nipple with teeth and tongue. "I'll be good!" she insisted, gasping.

"Will you, now?"

"Yes, I prom--"

He cut her off with another wild thrust, delighting in the squeal it prompted.

"I promise!" she finished, still panting, but her grin said otherwise.

Ducky leaned closer until their breath mingled. "Why don't I believe you?"

The deep, seductive rumble of his voice did amazing things to Abby's body. Wrapping her arms around him, she laughed and squirmed, and then captured his lips, doing a bit of her own nipping and sucking.

Tiny sounds of pleasure echoed through the autopsy bay for long minutes, the groans and gasps of two lovers sharing themselves coloring the darkness. And as the moments passed, the urgency increased, fueling their fire and straining the joints of the table beneath them.

"Ducky," Abby whispered, her fingers digging sharply into his back. The game of Naughty Girl had been left far behind; heated desire gladly took its place.

Balancing himself on one elbow, Ducky slid his other hand between them to where they were so intimately joined, trapping her swollen nub between thumb and forefinger. Matching their rhythm below, he rubbed her, keeping the pressure steady.

Abby's eyes snapped shut, her panting growing louder. She arched, canting her hips toward both of his exquisite touches, one of them inside, the other out.

Ducky smiled. He could barely discern his lover's features in the dimness, but her pleasure was readily apparent. His own was rapidly approaching, the telltale tightening in his balls causing him to groan, but he fought against it.

Before long, Abby was bucking hard against him, trying to increase the contact. He obliged her wordlessly, stroking harder and faster until both of their rhythms faltered. Abby sobbed into his ear as she climaxed, the pleasure blossoming and spreading like a shock wave. Ducky came a moment later, trembling and groaning, spilling himself deep within her in quick heated spurts.

As quick as it had flared, the all-consuming fire faded away, leaving them breathless and weak. They both collapsed in a boneless heap, with Ducky shifting slightly to the side so that Abby wouldn't bear his full weight. Their ragged breaths quickly turned to soft chuckling which, in turn, escalated to outright laughter. The joyful sound eventually melted away when they kissed once more.

Abby hummed her approval as Ducky continued to stroke her sensitive folds, the nerve endings there responding with tiny jolts of pleasure. Had they been in the safety of their own bed, he would have pressed her much further with his eager lips and fingers. He was merciless that way, greedy even, needing to wring every last shudder from her sated body. But that was too risky now.

Caressing her lips with his own one last time, Ducky pulled back and gazed at her. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, smiling.

She cupped his face in her palm. "So are you, Ducky."

The affectionate atmosphere vanished suddenly as Autopsy's phone began ringing. The doctor swore softly at the offensive sound, quickly pulling away from his lover. He got to his feet, and then nearly tripped over himself when he tried to move. Rushing to pull up his trousers, Ducky finally managed to stagger over to the counter where he fumbled for the phone receiver, the ever-insistent blinking of the main line his only guide in the darkness.

"Yes, hello!" he answered sharply, realizing a moment too late how suspicious his greeting had sounded. He cringed and shook his head, trying again. "Autopsy."

Laughing softly at her lover, Abby sat up to listen. Her eyes widened in alarm at Ducky's next words.

"Jethro. I thought you'd gone home?" A pause. "Yes? Well, I'm just finishing up a bit of paperwork--" Ducky bit his lip. "No, I didn't notice anything wrong with--"

Abby flew off the autopsy table as quietly as she could, and dove for her boots.

"I'm sure it's just a short circuit. Everything's fine--" Ducky began, pausing to listen again. "Yes. Yes, I'm aware that tampering with government equipment is a serious offense, but I haven't-- Well, yes, I'm sure she could fix the problem." Another pause. "Actually, yes, she--"

Warm, supportive arms wrapped around the doctor's waist from behind as he continued to flounder under Gibbs's intense questioning. Abby rested her forehead against his shoulder in silent apology. Disabling the camera was a major mistake on her part. Ducky was right; this should never have happened. Now they were both in serious trouble.

"Yes? Well, of course--" Ducky closed his eyes, releasing a resigned breath. "A friendly reminder is always a good thing, Jethro," he agreed, nodding helplessly. "You know how much I value your input."

Four floors above them in NCIS's empty bullpen, Jethro Gibbs nodded, unknowingly mirroring the medical examiner's gesture. "Good, because this reminder is extremely important, something I think you may have forgotten over the years."

The corner of Gibbs's mouth tugged into a grin as he listened to the deafening silence on the other end of the line. Having kept eager ears in suspense long enough, he finally imparted his words of wisdom. "There are no security cameras in your office, Duck."

And with that, he hung up and leaned back in his chair, the grin on his face transforming into a brilliant smile that would have absolutely shocked his coworkers had any of them been there to witness it.

~ * ~finis~ * ~