Abby wore a stunning ball gown, v-neck with lace detail, black silk and black chiffon. Her hair lay in delicate ringlets and curls about her face. And he held out his hand as an invitation to dance and she took it gently and laughed with delight.

She had tears running down her face, mascara and powder and lipstick all mixed together. Her hair was oily and unkempt. She had red eyes, a red nose, chipped black nail polish. She lay in a collapsed heap, singlet and underwear. He reached out his hand and pulled her upwards.

She was asleep and peaceful, lying unmoving beneath the silk. When she had a nightmare he was there to wrap her up in his arms.

Her eyes wide with terror, her own blood on her clothes she ran from her enemy. Frantic, terrified, helpless and he was there to kill the bastard and carry her to safety.

Abby was the girl with the black ponytails, black eyelashes, black lipstick, black shirt pants and dresses, black shoes and black nick-knacks. She was the girl with the golden heart and shining personality. She was bouncy and playful she was smart and beautiful she was mysterious and contagious. She required touch, more then that, she craved it. Caffeine was her passion, hippos kept her company. She read book after book about topics unheard of by him. She intrigued him.

Gibbs wore a brown jacket and gray pants, t-shirt and shined shoes. His coffee in his hand and his lips pressed together comfortably turning up on one corner at her words or smile or behaviour. She was there to joke and push him and tease him.

He sat half sprawled half sitting on his half-finished boat, whiskey half gone. Depressed over a decision he had had no control over. His face held no hope, no smile. And she was there to wipe away the clouds and bring him back to all the wonderful things he knew.

He was asleep and calm, his chest rising and falling, his heart thudding rhythmically in his chest. And she was there to keep him warm when he was cold and give him a smile when he woke.

Worried and in turmoil about a case he would think he was alone in his vulnerability until he met Abby in a hall and she saw right through his fa├žade. Always ready with the right words to say and the right tone of voice to make it all all right.

Gibbs was the man with the plan, the boss, the leader. A person who was as moral as he was caring, as harsh as he was hard working. Her silver haired fox, with the right answers and the half smile. His piercing eyes were full of knowledge and wisdom, pain and suffering, memories and ideas. He was the man, the perfect man she wanted, the man she had gained.