Happy New Year everyone!

Sweet Ignorance (I)

Extended Version of Chapter 13 of Story: Fourteen Days of Sweet Ignorance

Rating: NC-17

Summery: Um, stuff ... just stuff. We are now getting to the "sweet" part of Abby´s and Gibbs´getting known to each other. Oh, wait, there is a plot, I insist on that. To find it, it´s enough to just read the T-rated version, though (shrugs). – (which unfortunately not up as of 01-03-2008)

A/N: The rating is for a reason and if you are not allowed to read this, you shouldn´t! You might come back any time later. I won´t remove it.

A/N: This is my first NC-17, so I really would like to know what you think about it. Any kind of feedback is much appreciated, even a "Please never write stuff like this again". I won´t do it again, if you don´t like it. Promised!

Disclaimer: I do not own them and sometimes I am really glad about this, cause I don´t know if they agree to what I do to them.

"Honey, what about dinner?" Gibbs asks.

"Yeah." Abby nods and her ponytails fly through the air as she laughs. Then she throws him a scrutinizing look. "You cook?"

"Sure!" He nods as well and joins her laughter, dragging her with him to the kitchen.

They cook together and they have a lot of fun and Gibbs has to tell Abby everything Nanny Claire has asked him and everything she has told him about her.

After dinner they sit on the couch in the living-room. Abby´s head leans on Jethro´s shoulder and he has wrapped his arm around hers. They are reminiscing about that in retrospect even to Abby very funny moment while they were about to prepare their meal.


Abby was concentrating on opening a pot of corn, when Jethro approached her from behind and, placing his hands on her hips, whispered into her ear: "If I can help you... ?"

Jerking at Jethro´s unexpected creeping up on her, Abby nearly dropped the container, desperately juggling with it for some seconds before one big hand reached out to take hold of hers. Alas, Abby did let go of the container with both hands, sending it to the floor. Luckily, the glass did only break into three big pieces.

Holdingher empty right in his right and steadying a trembling shocked Abby with his left, Gibbs placed his chin on her left shoulder and sighed. They both stared at the corn spotted floor.

"Guess, they feared to be cooked," Gibbs pondered, hugging Abby a bit tighter and reassuring her.


By now, Abby is able to laugh about that incident as well.

"Never sneak up on me like that again," she admonishes him.

"Won´t promise that," Gibbs replies and they continue joking for a while until Abby´s eyes are watering out of laughter. Abby lifts her arm and with the back of her hand that is covered with the too long sleeve of her over-sized black pullover, she wipes away the tears that threaten to make their way down her cheeks.

Jethro pulls her close and laughs as well. Then he places one finger under Abby´s chin and gently tilts up her head, making her face him. He smiles and with the thumb of his right hand, which still props up her chin, he gently wipes off the smeared eyeliner underneath her left eye.

"Now I do understand why you wear black clothing most of the time," he says. And he doesn´t wait for her to ask but immediately continues, "One doesn´t see the black make-up on it."

They both laugh at that comment and as their eyes start playing catch with each other they fall silent.

He takes a strand of hair which has fallen in her eyes and gently twirls it between his fingers. Slowly, very slowly, he puts it down where it belongs and his fingers stroke her head as he lets them travel to where a hair-band turns her hair into a pigtail.

Hair-bands can be tricky, but the thick ones are manageable. Carefully he removes the hair-band of the left pigtail, then equally that of the right one, never taking his eyes off hers.

He leisurely lets his fingers comb through her now loose hair until his hand reaches the back of her neck and he leans in, slowly, and he can see her eyes slipping shut in anticipation of what is going to follow.

His lips touch hers. Endlessly soft the tip of his tongue strokes her upper lip, briefly tickling it before withdrawing. He playfully catches her upper lip between his lips, gently pulling it with him a short way as he leans back his head to look at her again.

When she opens her eyes, dilated pupils try to focus on him. Her breathing has deepened and fastened and her heart is pounding wildly.

Hand still resting on the back of her head, his thumb traces the strands of the spiderweb tattoo on her neck. With feverish eyes he follows his movements for a while until he looks into her eyes again, which give away how much she enjoys his touch and they are gleaming with arousal.

"Where?" Jethro eventually asks in a low lust laden voice and as he withdraws his hand from the back of her neck the tip of his fingers graze the tattoo, not stopping to do so and therefore leaving no doubt he is referring to Abby´s earlier admission of having more than that one tattoo.

Abby draws up her legs, tucking them under her. She leans in and her lips brush his as she speaks. "Well, how about ...?" She places her hands on his shoulders, using him as support to help her straighten up to a kneeling position. Within the same move she directs him to sit back in the couch and she brings herself as close to him as possible.

"How about ...," she repeats herself as she lifts her left leg, shifts slightly and places it across his lap, just next to his right thigh. Seeking for a way to keep his already buzzing head from zooming off and out of the window that very instant, he lets it drop back and exhales with a groan.

Hands still on his shoulders Abby rises to look down on him.

"How about you find out?" Abby lowers her head, parting her lips and they share a deep and passionate kiss. Gibbs lets her tongue explore his mouth, while stroking the bottom of her tongue with his, twisting and coiling them pleasurably.

Getting his hands to her waist he takes some of her weight, and Abby gratefully removes her hands from his shoulders and runs her fingers through his silvering hair.

Just before the both of them need to break the kiss because of need for air, she reaches down tugging at his shirt and pulling it up to remove it the moment their lips part.

In response to what she has just been doing one hand slips underneath her pullover. His hand. It is heatedly touching every reachable inch of her burning skin by traveling up and down her back and moving to her belly, caressing the soft skin there. His fingers work their way up her front to her chest, making her diaphragm tense and twitch at this titillating sensation.

A few inches more and his fingers glide over lace material. Another few inches further on they get to the tip of what this piece of material is there for to cover... .

Enraptured noises escape her mouth as he leisurely, yet with gentle pressure circles the protruding nipple of her left breast. Abby throws her head back, arching against him and moaning out blissfully.

Taking advantage of this favorable opportunity, Jethro pushes her pullover higher with his other hand and his quick hands remove it, flinging away the piece of clothing and catching her arms before she lets them fall down again, holding her hands up in air with one hand and with that preventing her from touching him again.

Desire flares up in his eyes. Scrutinizing eyes graze her front, square inch by square inch, for any which so ever tiny hint of a tattoo. There is none to be seen. Yet, she still has her bra on.

Merely touching it, his fingers creep over the lace fabric. Abby gasps and her eyes slip shut again. She whimpers slightly and tries to flinch away to stand that ticklish feeling. Accompanied by a heated glint in his eyes, the torturous hand snakes to her back to open the bra with a swift move, making it fall to the floor the very next instant.

To drink in the sight of her body, the scent of her skin that threatens to hopelessly engulf him, sweet, heavy and intoxicating, drives him crazy and he once more fights hard to not loose his mind and pull her close, kissing and licking her whole body, relishing her moaning and savoring her joy.

No! He first has to find out where...and ... what of course.

"Stand up, Abs", he demands.

She does as requested and finds herself standing right in front of him, her legs almost touching the couch, one of his knees to her left, the other one to her right, himself having moved forward, now sitting on the edge of the sofa.

Eyes downcast, she watches his hands stroke her belly, downwards and along the waistband of her trousers, unbuttoning it before crooking his fingers over it and tugging it down slowly.

She steps out of it and her pants join the clothing that already spots the living-room floor around them.

Still he cannot detect another tattoo aside from the ones that decorate her arms. These ones he already knows of, since he has seen her wearing a t-shirt while renovating. This only can mean...

He places his left hand on her hip and lets his right wander over the heated flesh of her upper thigh, upwards over her panties, which are lace mostly. Although merely touching it, he can feel heated moisture radiating from it and his fingertips climb higher until they reach her navel. He stops his exploration, feeling her stomach muscles twitching.

He looks up to meet her gaze and she can see his eyes are glistening with heat and arousal.

"It´s on your back, isn´t it?" his voice almost breaks in anticipation.

Abby stiffens. Yes, it is. And he is going to have a look at it any moment. What, if he is shocked about it? What, if he does not like it?

What ifs are occupying Abby´s mind.

"I ...," she stammers, "I knew ... what I was doing, ... then. I ... I wasn´t drunk!" Abby suddenly can´t hold back her fears and delivers an incessant chatter. "Um, it´s not that I do believe that you think I must have been drunk, back then, when I decided to have it done. And if you don´t like it, well, then I´m sorry, I can´t help it. It´s there and it always will be and ... ."

He stops her by reaching up and placing a single finger across her lips.

"Shh...," he reassures her.

The hint of shaking his head, followed by a heart-warming smile, tells her she doesn´t have to worry. She nevertheless is worried. He winks at her encouragingly and his tongue shows up to moisten his lips.

"Turn around, Abs." He retreats his finger from her lips and with his other hand, that´s still on her hip, he gives her a gentle tap to make her turn.

She does.

It takes his breath away. That´s incredible! It´s the most fascinating tattoo he has ever seen. Okay, he has not seen a lot by now, and never would he have believed he could like them, not to say love them, on somebody he loves. Abby has proven this wrong the very instant he had seen her, and now she does carry him away once more. Admiration and ecstasy sends his head spinning and buzzing.

He straightens. Again he places his left hand upon her hip and Abby holds her breath in anticipation of what is about to follow.

Gibbs reaches out his right hand – slowly – and two fingertips touch her heated skin. Right at the top point of the tattooed cross on her back. In slow motion he lets his fingers trail the outlines of the tattoo. Millimeter by millimeter, inch by fascinating inch. Down the right side of her back. Endlessly soft is his touch, delicate and tender. Minutes pass as he memorizes each and every millimeter until he reaches the small of her back and his path is stopped by her panties, that covers the last remaining millimeters of the bottom border of the tattoo. His fingers move along the waistband of her panties, before slipping one finger underneath and pulling it down, just far enough to see and caress the lowest end of the cross.

He hums and inhales deeply, trying hard to control the feeling that has built up inside him not only since this afternoon but since the moment he has first looked her in the eye and has felt her body against his, the feeling that now gets more and more powerful, threatening to shut his mind down any second to carry out his most basic needs. He won´t let that happen though.

Not too soon.

He hasn´t slept with a woman for quite some time. Being married doesn´t necessarily mean you enjoy one another. And even if you pretend to, it first and foremost shrinks to a must – a necessity to fulfill exactly these basic needs that make themselves felt right now.

But this feels so very different. This ... is Abby. Abby with her black hair ... . Black! How beautiful and soft it is! ... with her shining green eyes and her always smiling lips. He can feel her trembling breath and her whole body shiver with arousal. He even believes he can hear her heart beat.

"Wow," he whispers after what seems an eternity, and she can feel his hot breath against her back.

"So, ... you ... like it?" she asks shyly.

He doesn´t answer.

She doesn´t dare to look back at him over her shoulder. She just feels his breath against her skin. Suddenly something wet touches her at the small of her back and a second later a stream of cool air is blown over the moist spot.

Abby gasps and moans out lowly, pleasant shivers running up and down her spine and her head falls in her neck, leaving her mouth slightly open to let more moans escape it as the incredibly exciting and stimulating procedure is repeated. Nobody has ever done something quite like this before. Not even the man she had used to live with. They had all touched it, being more or less impressed by it, or not at all. But never, never has anyone touched, caressed, yes, why not call it worshiped it like Jethro is doing right now.

Jethro. Jethro has leaned forward and originally he only intended to place a very light kiss upon the spot where the lower end of the artistic tattoo vanishes underneath her lace panties. But on leaning forward -- wincing as he does so, because of unpleasantly cramping the undeniably most aroused part of his body --, moistening his lips before delivering the kiss, he there and then changes his mind. He works his way up the left side of the tattoo on her back, this time, however, not tracing the outlines of the cross with his fingers. The tip of his tongue comes into contact with her heated skin, snaking upwards a few millimeters before retreating, leaving a trace of saliva behind. Hearing her gasp only adds to his imaginativeness and after letting a relishing "Mmm...," escape his lips, showing her how much he enjoys what he sees and what he feels, he purses his lips to breath upon the damp path.

Her reaction is exciting and intensifies his desire. He nevertheless takes his time exploring her skin, making her feel loved and wanted. It takes some other endless minutes until he reaches the top point of the tattoo, where he has begun his journey quite some time ago. In the course of licking and suckling and breathing his way up her back he has stood up. He makes sure his hands never loose contact with her body as he continues his moist way upwards along her spine towards her shoulders where he discovers two more tattoos – a stylized angel on the one and a stylized devil on the other one.

He grins widely and chuckles and he slips his right hand under her loose hair and -- stroking her skin there while wandering up to her neck -- guides her head to tilt it to her right and slightly bend forward and with the same move he uncovers her neck by gently brushing her hair over her right shoulder, his fingers remaining interwoven with her shoulder-length black hair. His left travels up her arm and comes to a rest upon her collar bone.

He steps forward. A tiny step is all that is needed to zero off the last inch that still separates them and let their bodies touch. Abby feels his erection through his pants as he slightly presses his body against her. She feels like exploding with tension, yet she concentrates on his every touch as if it was the first time someone ever made love to her.

To be honest, it was the first time someone ever made love to her that way. It usually was her, seducing her counterpart and then taking advantage of the other one´s arousal, making the one suffer and squirm before finally letting him get his relief. Never had she been on the receiving side of it before, never like that. She has always been the one in control.

She trusts him. Completely. And that´s why it feels so good to her to be the receiving part. Although does not that Jethro does not completely share her point of view here, meaning he does not feel like the giving part of this erotic foreplay. He receives more than he has for years and he soaks it in with his every breath.

He brings his lips to her left ear while caressing the tattooed spiderweb on her neck with the fingertips of his left hand.

"Yeah. Yeah, I like it, it´s as beautiful as this one, if not more," he whispers, his lips grazing her earlobe. Nibbling, humming and whispering reassuring and tender words, sweet nothings in her ear, they both continue their journey into a world where time stands still.

He lets both his hands wander down her sides, slipping them under her arms and bringing them to her front, stroking upwards again to trace her breasts before cupping them, one with each hand, briefly, then his right hand travels downwards again, while the fingers of the other hand softly circle the aroused dark red tip of her left breast.

"Close your eyes, hon," he whispers into her ear and he lets the tip of his tongue travel over her neck and up to her earlobe and outer ear again. He lets his right hand wander over soft skin, feels her shiver as his fingers lightly crawl over her hip-bone and a few centimeters down her leg to deftly and gently slip between her thighs. He continues his exploration by running his fingers over the lacy fabric of her black panties, applying some but not too much pressure, feeling moist heat radiate from inside her. Carefully he slips his fingers underneath her panties to touch the most intimate part of her body.

She rolls her head back in her neck, moaning with ecstasy on the titillating sensation of his fingers touching her most sensitive spot for the first time. She hardly can control herself and she pants heavily.

"That okay?", he whispers as he gently circles her clit at a steady pace. Every now and then a deliberate finger slips between her folds and easily a short way into her entrance bringing along more of the warm moist substance from inside before returning his attention to the swollen bundle of nerves, which feels so incredibly good.

"Uh, yeah," Abby pants, "it´s just ... that I won´t ... be able ... to stand this ... for long... ."

It requires more concentration to put these words in a plausible sentence than he wants her to summon up. He, however, is completely satisfied when finding that applying some more pressure and slightly increasing the pace of his swirling fingers result in another appreciative "Uuuh!", accompanied by her body arching with relish.

"It´s okay, Abs, it´s okay," he encourages her. "Let go. I got you, let go."

And to emphasize his words he wraps his left around her waist and pulls her close.

What else he does, Abby cannot tell. Her knees give way and she lets him carry her weight, giving in to the waves of ecstasy that wash over her. Sounds that tell of sweet excitement fill the air. They linger in the room, and when they fade away, a low and soft voice carries her back to present.

It takes some moments of soothing words and stroking her hair until she is able to stand on her own, yet still shaky, legs again. She nevertheless keeps leaning against him for a few more minutes until she becomes aware of the condition he still is in.

She turns in his embrace and studies the expression on his face. His eyes are glazed over, but he still seems to be able to focus on her.

Abby tilts her head to he left and grins widely.

He throws her a questioning look, his eyes blinking as if trying to get rid of some invisible mist.

That´s unfair, Abby signs.

What? Gibbs signs back. He does not know, what she is getting at and he does not want to process her comment.

"You still got your pants on." Abby willingly explains.

"Want me to change that?" he tries joking, but fails miserably as his voice breaks and his eyes slip shut.

Curious fingers deftly slip between them and press against his crotch. His only just opened eyes slip shut again and he moans lowly. He cannot hold back -– or rather does not want to hold back -– a thrusting response of his pelvis, showing eager impatience to being freed from its uncomfortable confinement. Endlessly slow her teasing fingers creep higher, not reducing their pressure but rather placing accentuated increased pressure on certain spots on their way along his clearly visible arousal to the button of his pants.

He sighs when she finally unbuttons them and he runs a hand over his face and through his hair as her hand vanishes inside his boxers to touch the heated flesh of his throbbing member. Clever hands make short work of his jeans and his boxers and when she looks up, she finds him staring at her, somehow looking discontented.

"What?" Abby asks and, being slightly confused, she lets her hands drop to her sides.

"Now, that´s unfair," Gibbs signs, then one hand slips underneath her panties, grabbing one bottom cheek and with a jerk he pulls her close. "You still got your panties on!" he whispers huskily, dangerously near to her lips, but not in the least meaning to kiss her.

Abby smirks. "Change it!"

There is no need to tell him twice. Taking one step back, his calf touching the couch, he gets his hands on both sides of her hip to hold her in place as he lowers himself to sit down on the couch.

He crooks his fingers over the waistband of her panties, tugging at them and letting them drop onto the floor after having placed a wet kiss on her belly button.

"Come here," hands on her hips he guides her to straddle him while they keep looking into each other´s eyes.

Gibbs finds himself pushed back into the couch, as Abby puts her hands on his shoulders and straightens to kneel upright and moving closer so she now slightly towers above him, just enough to not come into contact with his erection. Sparkling green eyes look down on him. Hot breath escapes slightly parted lips, flooding his face and carrying the sounds of aroused panting to his ears. It makes his heart rate increase even more.

"Abs," he gasps, a faint touch of desperation giving away his thoughts. He has touched her minutes ago, has been given a sweet impression of her soft center. Exploring her like this has felt amazing. Yet, she hasn´t had sex in a while as well and ... being a woman ..., well...

"What!?" Abby first is confused about the look that washes over Gibbs face. "You are not going to tell me that this might hurt?"

Working out his thoughts leaves him speechless. He just swallows.

Abby grins devilishly. "Hey Gibbs, this is sex! Sex sometimes hurts!"

Yeah, she has a point here.

"And that actually isn´t always a bad side effect, is it?"she informs him.

He grunts upon her comment. Sex and its side effects? Bad ones or good ones - he doesn´t want to ponder over that right now. Nor does Abby.

One hand reaches up to the back of her head, pulling her down until her parted lips are mere inches apart from his. In one swift move he catches her bottom lip between his and gently bites down on it when drawing back. He briefly looks at her before making her press her lips upon his again, causing them to melt against each other in a hungry unbridled kiss, their fingers tousling their hair, keeping each other close, swallowing the other one´s hot breath and the moans that leave their throats, working up each other´s excitement.

His hands travel over her back, stroking up and down along her spine two or three times before one hand rests on the small of her back, whereas the other slips underneath her and with one deft and well measured twist one finger smoothly vanishes inside her.

Throwing her head back in her neck, she lets out a moan that´s no longer swallowed by the person opposite her. Time freezes for her, but not for him. He drinks in the sight of her for the duration of her pleasurable moan.

"That okay?" he asks as he begins to move his finger inside her slowly.

"No," Abby answers in a serious tone, shaking her head and upon his questioning and slightly shocked look she adds, "more!"

"Well, if that´s all..," he slowly pulls his finger out from inside her. Without breaking contact he bathes his fingers in her juices, yet deliberately avoiding her most sensitive spot, before inserting two fingers. He slowly lets them creep deeper, listening to her puffing breathing.

She lets him hear her building arousal, lets him see it in her eyes which she keeps wide open, watching and drinking in his arousal as well, up to that moment when his fingers have completely vanished and he presses inside her delightfully. Her eyes slip shut and she arches towards him, leaning into his pleasurable actions.

"How´s that," he wants to know when she eventually opens her eyes again that are glazed over with lust.

"Better...," she breathes, yet leaving no doubt that this is not the whole truth.

"But?" he asks, not being shocked this time, because he can feel and see her desire.

"More!" comes her short demand.

She lowers her head to look at the object of her desire, that impressively and equally longing erects between the two of them.

Without any further explanation, she lifts her right hand, brings it to her lips and applies a not insignificant amount of saliva on her fingers, before reaching down and taking him in hand. Her every move has been eagerly followed by his rapt eyes that now start to flutter, accompanied by irregular panting as she gently, yet firmly strokes his length.

She feels him expand in her hand and suddenly stops her ministrations which is immediately met with an irritated but unfocused look.

Bringing her hands to his shoulders she presses him back into the couch, keeping her body close to his, telling him "I want to feel that part of yours inside me!"

She straightens up, feeling him slowly withdraw his fingers from inside her. Adjusting his hand that steadies her, he now guides himself to her entrance, bathing his erection in her moist before entering her. Inch by deliciously agonizing inch he glides deeper. Their eyes glued to one another they let their opposite witness their still increasing arousal. Hardly noticeable panting that sounds different than the predominating one, as well as a slight twitch of her eyelid tell him to still his motion and let her adjust the angle.

He has to concentrate hard on not giving in to the feeling and let go. The expression on her face, the clearly visible arousal and pleasure can send him over the edge now.

Mimicking her previous actions, smiling mischievously as he does so, he brings his thumb and two fingers to his mouth, licking them to moisten them thoroughly. An actually unnecessary action, because they are rather sticky because of those being the two fingers he has had inside her for the second time this night only minutes ago. Moreover ... he won´t need them. He slips his hand between the two of them, down to touch and firmly circle her longing bundle of nerves with his thumb.

She´s close, so very close. She just hasn´t felt it because of the exquisite feeling of being filled completely and being stretched so pleasurably and she almost instantly is overwhelmed by the sensation that ripples through her body the moment he touches her so blissfully.

Her fingernails dig into his shoulders. She looses the last bit of control and once again her head falls back in her neck as wave after wave makes her cramp around him. Relishing, delicious moans and cries fill the room and he is not able to hold back any longer.

Bringing both his hands to her hips he holds her in place as he thrusts upwards. Once, twice – the third one doesn´t really count as he already feels his fluid covering her inner walls and prolonged groans join the noises that already fill the air.

The sounds eventually fade, everything that´s left is the rasping sound of breathing that slowly deepens and becomes even again.

He in the meantime has leaned in, his forehead touching her cleavage, sweat covered skin pressed upon sweat covered skin, his hot breath bathing her breasts coolingly until he feels her shiver and upon opening his eyes he can see goosebumps decorating her skin.

He gently kisses the soft skin between her breasts, his lips lingering briefly to taste the salty flavor. Gibbs then leans back, pulling Abby close. He grabs a blanket that is lying on the couch and wraps it around her.

Snuggling against him, Abby lets her fingers travel through his greying – sorry! - silvering chest hair.

"Say it," he suddenly says, while stroking her hair and curling a wisp of it around his forefinger.

"Say what?" Abby asks, curiosity not only lying in her question but also sparkling in her still dreamy eyes.

Abby´s guts twist as she watches him repeat some familiar gestures that she has used only three days ago. Oh god! He remembers! It actually had been meant as a silent confession concerning what she found most sexy about his appearance. Had she known back then that he understood, she would not have done that!

He crooks the forefinger of his right hand over its thumb, stretching out the other three fingers – the sign for "F". He lifts this hand to his face and – still f-shaped - twists it around his nose twice. Grinning widely he disentangles the fingers and with the index-finger touches his ear and pulls away his now s-shaped hand. Last he pinches a strand of his hair between his thumb and forefinger.

Abby gulps. She shakes her head in embarrassment and buries her face in the warm of his chest.

But there is no escaping Gibbs. His thumb strokes her cheek, then his open hand slips under her chin and he softly guides her head from where she has hidden it and he looks into her eyes deeply.

"Say it," he whispers huskily. "Please!"

Abby hesitates a few seconds, but then she rises to bring her mouth close to his ear, whispering the words, rearranging their order due to differences in grammar, and Gibbs smiles, a hum making his body vibrate, as he finds it actually sounds much better than the signs have given away.

"You needn´t whisper," he challenges her with a twinkle in his eyes. "You can say it aloud."

"No, please," Abby begs, her cheeks now flushed out of being challenged like that.

"You don´t want to walk over to the bed by yourself, or maybe sleep alone tonight, do you?" Gibbs playfully threatens, chuckling upon the the startled expression that appears on her face. Tugging his arms under her he indicates that he is ready to carry her over to the bedroom as soon as she says it again.

"No, I don´t want to sleep alone," Abby admits.

"Uh-huh." He wants to hear it again.

"And I´m not keen on walking." Is he really honest about not carrying her over?

"Uh-huh." He withdraws his hands from underneath her.

"My ... silver-haired-fox." There really is no escaping Gibbs.

To be continued within story Fourteen Days… . Meet you back there at chapter fourteen: Feelings of Guilt

A/N: About the secret confession, that is revealed here – as I said before, I´m sure it´s not exact. Just thought it a nice touch. I, however, would be glad if someone tells me how to sign it right.

A/N: Although I believe Abby has not had the cross tat when she started working at NCIS, I couldn´t resist to build this chapter around it. Please look at it as a writer´s liberty.