This is just a bunch of drabbles based on 40 prompts that I pulled from somewhere (I don't actually remember where now) and decided to write stories for. I've never done a list of prompts before, so I thought it would be a challenge. They are snapshots of McGee and Abby's life together, in no apparent order. Just thrown together every which way as the mood strikes me. Most are going to be fluff, but some might be darker, some angst, some humour, some team, a little of everything.
Abby bounced up to McGee's sports car, grinning as she slid into the driver's seat.
"Oh, no," McGee said. "No, no, no. It's my car. I'm driving."
Abby ignored him, placing her hands on the steering wheel and looking at him expectantly.
"Abby…" He said warningly.
She looked up at him with her big dark eyes filled with expectation. It was a look McGee had never been able to resist. He tried now, but he could already feel himself being suckered in.
"But, Abs," he whined. "It's my new car."
"I'm not going to hurt it, McGee," Abby reminded him. "I'm not Ziva. And you'll be here the whole time. Please?"
A flash of anger came into Abby's green eyes.
"If you're doubting my driving skills, I've had my license since I was sixteen, and you of all people should know how long ago that was," she snapped. "Now gimmie the keys." She held out her hand for them.
"You drive a hearse," he reminded her.
"So?" Abby asked impatiently.
"So? That thing's an ox. This is a… hummingbird."
"I'm not going to even scratch it, McGee," she promised. "I just want to drive it."
"But… but…" McGee sputtered. But Abby could see that she was winning the battle. She extended her hand again, and gave him a winning smile.
With a resigned sigh, McGee handed over the keys, and walked around the car to get into the passenger seat.
"Just please be careful," he begged.
"What's with you, McGee? You never used to be so particular with your stuff," Abby complained.
"That was before you cut a patch out of my Armani jacket," McGee grumbled.
Abby put thee key in the ignition and gunned the engines, delight with the powerful machine at her fingertips. She slid out of the parking space and began to gain speed as she got onto the road.
"Not so fast!" McGee protested.
"What's the point in having a sports car if you can't go fast?" Abby asked. A manic grin was beginning to spread over her face.
McGee buried his face in his hands.
"I'm in for it, aren't I?" he asked rhetorically.
"Yup," said Abby. "You're in for it. I feel the need."
McGee looked up at her, surprised at her declaration.
"The need?" he asked.
"I feel the need – the need for speed!"
"I walked into that one, didn't I?"
"Yup," said Abby, putting her foot on the gas.