A/N: I have constantly struggled with writing a GABBY story since character-wise I just don't see them together, but I finally came up with a way I can live with. It is just initial romance and the frailties of, no major drama, not so long as most of mine, could even end at Chapter 2 if I don't get feedback, which alas seems to be slow in coming. Not quite a drabble, but not a full blown story. Also, I know of at least one author who has started their story in the same place, boneslvr, so I asked if she minded if I started the same place since I was already writing it in my head from that point. She wholeheartedly supported it, so a big thank you to her. I suspect it is a popular place to start a story, but since I mostly write and don't read very much (no rotten apples please!) I wouldn't know. Hey, this story might have already been done and I just don't know it. Don't own.
So Gibbs, can I ask you a question…?
"Agent McGee cannot marry Amy, Timmy. They are all wrong for each other. Do you understand?"
"Ok, I got it Abby."
Gibbs had stepped away from the pair and was facing away trying to give them their privacy, but was unwilling to leave Abby. He heard Abby's comment and smiled slightly. He was glad Abby had seemingly finally closed that door. It wasn't that he was jealous of McGee, or that he even wanted Abby. At least he didn't think so. He did have feelings for her that went something beyond a daughter but not a lover. Again, not so sure on that one either. The whole subject of Abby was a big set of confusions in his head, very unlike him where things tended to be cut and dried. There was nothing cut and dried about his feelings about Abby. Her lifestyle seemed incompatible to his and he was too old to change, and he would never dream of asking her to. So they sat somewhere in the middle.
"Hey Abbs, let's go. You can stay with me tonight. When is you apartment going to be dried out? Do you have clothes for the next few days or should we go get some?"
"I'm good. I'm really tired Gibbs. Take me home… I mean your home. I gotta get some sleep. Too many stalkers, I gotta fix this." She yawned and gathered her stuff to leave. It was a little awkward for her, calling his place home. She felt that way when she was with him and at his place, which with Col. Mann around had been less and less. Everything with Gibbs was too confusing anyway and just made her head hurt. But staying at his place, even if it was guest room… well, that was good. She liked that.
Three weeks later
"So Gibbs, can I ask you a question?" He had just brought her a Caf-Pow and was hanging out in her lab. She noticed he'd been doing that a lot lately, even when they didn't have a case. She'd been surfing the web at style guides trying to get some idea of what she was looking for.
"Abbs, you know you can ask me anything. Except about you next tattoo. I don't think I can help you there."
She laughed, remembering the embarrassment they both felt when she had asked him for help, and he kept trying to turn her down, and then finally asked where she would be putting it, and all the sudden everything felt very strange between them. There was curiosity, fear, embarrassment, interest in being asked, interest in what the response would be. It was all very strange and yet tingly feeling, at least for Abby. She doubted Gibbs ever tingled.
"I think I might have gotten my last tattoo. No my question is more personal, not like love life personal, but more personal taste personal. Does that make sense?"
"Not really." Gibbs paused; curiosity peaked as Abby always managed in her tangled way of talking. "But you can ask me anyway. And before you do, tell me why no more tattoos?"
"Well, it's all wrapped up in the same thing, so can you just bear with me?"
"So, I'm going to change my look. I've been into Goth along time, and I am not even sure why anymore. But anyway, Goth is not getting me what I want and is definitely getting me what I don't want. So I am not going to wear Goth anymore."
Abby could not help but see relief flit through Gibbs's eyes. That gave her some inkling of hope even though he had no idea. It had taken weeks to work up the nerve to even have this conversation with him. The risk was very high. "So what is Goth not getting you and getting you Abbs?"
"Well it is getting me stalkers, which have proven dangerous and I really don't want. It is getting me loser boyfriends who don't have jobs or ambition or anything else really. They tend to be really good in the sack, but I always end up buying dinner and whatever. I don't want that any more. It is not getting me the kind of men I want to attract. I'm more of an exotic entertainment item to them than a love interest. I want to learn to dress and act the way I need to in order to attract the men I want. I am beautiful. I have a cool job. I'm really intelligent. I can be too hyper but I could learn to tone that down. I have a lot of tats and that could be a problem since I can't get rid of them, but if a man can't deal with the tats, then I don't want him anyway."
"Do you know what kind of man you want to attract?"
"And? Abby do you want me to help you? You have to give me information. Shouldn't you be talking to Ziva or Tony or even McGee about this?"
"Ziva will be a big help when I go shopping, but her sense of style tends towards the utilitarian except for when her and Tony… well when they went undercover. She was trying to do two things at once, and while they were successful on the case, she was not successful attracting him. Tony's taste runs towards large breasted women, preferably blonds. I am not getting a boob job for this endeavor, or dye my hair and Tony is not the guy I want to attract anyway. Maybe the Tony-recovering-from-a-broken-heart Tony, but not the clownish, egotistical Tony. McGee is McGee. I don't think he has a type other than fellow geek or cheerleader. I don't even think McGee knows what he wants."
"Abby, it may seem that way, but he is in love with you. You are his type."
Abby looked at him knowingly, and sighed. "I know Gibbs. But he isn't my type."
Gibbs held his breath for a moment, wondering if he should even ask. "What is your type Abby? Not stalkers, not clowns, not egotists, not geeks, you eliminated a lot of undesirables. What do you want?"
She looked at him hard, wondering what he would say or do. How weird would this make things? She decided to take the circumspect approach. Gibbs was, after all, involved in a relationship. He was not available. "I want what I can't have Gibbs. At least not the way I am now. But if I can remake myself, maybe he, or rather the guys I want, would seriously consider a relationship with me."
"You have someone specific in mind, Abby. Who?"
"You don't need to know. He's a lot like you, so I thought if you could tell me what sort of things you liked, I could use that as a model. For example, Col. Mann seems to prefer fatigues and boots, but when I have seen her dressed, she seems to prefer Sears."
"Abby… that's not nice." His heart was racing from her comment about 'he's a lot like you'. He knew she was talking about him. His rise to Mann's defense was automatic, even if he did agree with Abby's assessment.
She shrugged her shoulders and continued. "I don't know your ex-wives very well, but I know you still have feelings for the Director. She has much more expensive taste and you seem to prefer her very much. She has very snazzy clothes. And very feminine. Is that what you like Gibbs? Feminine?"
"Feminine, yeah I guess so. I like to be with beautiful women who know how to dress well. Next you are going to ask what I mean by dress well, aren't you?"
Abby laughed a very deep and sultry laugh. "That would be the next logical question."
Gibbs rolled his eyes, actually finding enjoyment at spilling this much information to Abby. He thought she was exquisite with her porcelain skin and dark eyes and red lips. He just couldn't get past the Goth. It was too much, too over the top, too young for him to be with.
"I like ladylike, sexy and ladylike dresses, fitted but not sleazy, usually expensive, heels of some kind. I like thigh high stockings if you have to know, not panty hose. I like lace everything underneath. If the woman wears pants to work, it is a pantsuit, nice material, no polyester, sleeveless turtlenecks or low cut sweaters. Casual would be fitted jeans, I like those low cut ones. T-shirts or tank tops are good. I like heavy eye makeup and red lips, porcelain skin like you wear and have." He needed to exit this conversation. It was going too far.
It was Abby's turn for her heart to race. He was telling her about what he liked about her!
"That is all you get Abbs. I'm not telling you anything else to help you seduce your mystery man." He gave her a kiss on the cheek, lingering longer than usual. He gently brushed her arm and turned and left. Before he reached the door, Abby turned to him leaning against the door to her office.
"Gibbs, why thigh highs?" She gave him a heated look that he returned, surprising her.
For his part, Gibbs just laughed slightly and turned to enter the elevator. Abby smiled her secret little smile and went back to work.