Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.

Spoilers: None

Warnings: Much fluffiness

Author's Notes: Written for ficvariations. My claim is Abby, and the prompt is fashion. This is for Jane (brightillusions) who has threatened to stalk me until I wrote Abby/Gibbs and baseball in the same fic.

"So what do you think?" Gibbs asked as he slid into the stadium seat and passed Abby a hot dog and a Caf-Pow.

Abby cocked her head to one side and chewed her lower lip. After a moment she shook her head, sending her pigtails bouncing.

"I'm not sure yet."

"Not sure you like it, or not sure you understand it?" A week ago they had worked a case of a navy officer found dead in the restroom of a baseball stadium. When Abby confessed that she had never seen a game before, Gibbs had bought a pair of tickets to the Senators and insisted on taking her.

"Oh, I like it, and I'm pretty sure I understand the basic rules. What I can't decide is which uniform I like better. The white ones are cute, but they show the dirt so easily. I think I have to go for the blue ones." Abby nodded when one of the players in blue hit the ball into the outfield. "Yup, definitely the blue guys."

"Abby, this is baseball. You don't pick a team based on their uniforms. There are statistics, history, and..."

"...cute butts," Abby supplied.

"Abby," Gibbs sighed. It was the same sound he made when he was waiting for a test result and she took too long getting to the point.

"A girl can't help but notice, Gibbs. The tight little pants they wear make it kind of obvious."

Gibbs turned his attention back to the field in an effort to keep from laughing. He should have known that Abby would come up with a point of view he had never considered before.

"If it makes you feel better, your butt is just as cute as any of theirs," Abby whispered into his ear.

"What?" Gibbs turned his head so quickly he narrowly missed hitting her.

"You've been married how many times? You can't tell me this is the first time someone's told you that they admire your ass."

Deciding that the safest answer was none at all, Gibbs took a bite of his hot dog.


"You have to do it, Gibbs. It's tradition." When Gibbs remained sitting, Abby tugged at his arm. Reluctantly, he stood up.

"I'm not singing, Abbs."

"Come on, Gibbs. Everyone else will." Though she'd never been to a game, she had seen enough movies to be sure of that fact.

"And if everyone jumped off a bridge..." Abby rolled her eyes and swatted him with her new baseball cap. The music started playing them, and Abby turned her attention to the giant screen where familiar words were written out.

"Take me out to the ball game," she sung. When Gibbs' mouth remained closed she spelled out 'spoilsport' with her fingers, making sure that he saw her.

"Take me out to the crowd." Abby was ignoring Gibbs now, focused on the words to the song. Gibbs was glad, not because he minded her teasing, but because he was getting so much enjoyment out of watching her. In addition to the cap that was worn backwards on her head, Abby was wearing an oversized jersey. She had purchased it an hour ago, bouncing with excitement because she had found one with the number thirteen on it. It hadn't mattered to her who the player was.

"One... Two... Three strikes he's out..." Abby swung her arm wildly, mimicking the motions of the crowd as they called the fictional player out. "...at the old ball game."

"You should have sung, Gibbs," Abby lectured when the crowd settled back in their seats to watch the last two and a half innings of the game. "It was fun. You need to have more fun."

"I have plenty of fun," Gibbs insisted.

"Yeah? When? And working on your boat doesn't count."

"Right now," Gibbs answered. Grinning at her, he tugged on one of her pigtails. "Now watch the game. Your 'blue guys' are at bat."