Abby pushed herself onto her toes and kissed her boss's forehead. He responded with nothing more than a small smile and a sharp exhale. She pulled back, studied his face. "You do it to me all the time, Gibbs."

"It's different, Abbs."

"So the boss can kiss the employee but the employee can't kiss the boss?" she asked, cocking her head slightly to one side.



"What's your point?"

She grabbed her Caf-Pow off the table and took a long sip, pigtails swinging from her movements. She stared down at her huge drink, trying to stall as long as possible. "Who said there has to be a point, Gibbs?"


"Maybe I wanted to know what it felt like. Is that so wrong, Gibbs?" She sucked down more of her drink, waiting for his reply.

He sighed, looking in all different directions. "Abbs…" He sighed again.

"I'm well aware of my name, Gibbs. You don't have to keep saying it."

He walked past her towards the plasma screen TV. "Did you match the prints on the murder weapon?"

"I already told you, Gibbs. You weren't paying attention. The prints weren't in AFIS so it's still running. Our psychic connection must be a little fuzzy because you came down here when I really had nothing to tell you," she said. "You're also changing the subject."

"I'm allowed to do that, Abbs."

"Not with me you're not." She set the drink on her desk. "Gibbs, are you hiding something from me?"

He came back to her desk, standing less than a foot away from her. "There's nothing new going on in my life, Abbs."

She leaned on her desk, a few fingers on the keys of her keyboard. "Then it's something old." She stopped, thought for a moment. "It's not one of your ex wives again, is it?"

"No, Abby."

"Tony getting on your nerves?"

"Not any more than usual."

"New director bothering you?"

"Again, no. Thanks for your concern." He leaned over and kissed her temple, lingering just a moment too long.

She smiled, loving the soft feel of his lips on her skin.

He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm to stop him. "What's wrong, Gibbs?" she asked, her smile becoming a look of pure concern.

"Nothing I can't fix or ignore, Abby," he said in his normal stern tone.

"You tell me everything, Gibbs."

"Not everything."

She frowned. "Awe, Gibbs! You're holding out on me!" She pulled the chair from her desk and pointed to it. "Sit. You have to tell me what's wrong."

"I can't."

"It won't leave this room. You have my word." She closed her lips and pretended to zip and lock them, then throwing the imaginary key over her shoulder.

"I can't, Abbs."

He tried to stand up, but she pushed down on his shoulders, stopping him. "You are not leaving this room until you tell me what's going on," she said sternly.

He tried to stand up again. She let him. They stared at each other for a few long moments. Then, without any warning, he leaned forward and pecked her cheek once more, right beside her mouth. Then, he left without another word.

Abby touched the warm, tingling spot on her face with her first two fingers, trying to hold the feel of his lips to her face for as long as possible. "Thought so," she muttered, and she went back to work.