A/N: I didn't intend to write a second entry for this challenge, but this is one of those stories that, once you've thought up the perfect first line, isn't going to let you sleep until it's on paper.
As this stands now, this is a completed piece. Should inspiration strike, I might revisit the idea later, but right now I wouldn't bet on it.
Title comes from "I Would Do Anything For Love" by Meatloaf, my ultimate McAbby song.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one. I'm just a college student who suffers from a rather vivid imagination.
Summary: If she told him, he'd probably try and convince her that this was a sign. That it would be the right thing to do. McAbby, I've Got A Secret challenge.
These Grains of Sand
He'd said he couldn't do this with baby Jesus watching, so she'd pushed her Nativity set under the couch. Maybe that's where all of this had gone so horribly wrong. She was being taught a lesson about having a little more respect for sacred things.
"Lesson learned," Abby muttered to herself as she waited for the results to show up on her computer screen. She'd never wanted to see negative results so much in her life. "Lesson way learned."
Waiting for her computer to find what it was looking for in her blood was maddening. It would have taken only a few minutes with a kit she purchased from the store, but she had to be sure. Had to be one hundred percent absolutely sure, and she could only be that if she ran the tests herself.
It was possible she was over reacting. That was something else she never thought she'd hope for—that she was freaking out when there wasn't any need for concern. She'd missed her period before. Not often, but every once in a while when the stress was high it had happened. It could just be one of those times, and she'd have to deal with the bloating and cramping and general nastiness before she knew it. She should probably count this as a blessing.
This time just felt different, though. What Gibbs would describe as a gut feeling. A hinky, disconcerting feeling that had settled itself right below her rib cage and simply refused to be rationalized away.
It was the whole reason she was here, waiting for life altering results, after being only a week late.
What was she going to do? It was the question that was running over and over in her head as she stared at the blank screen.
Terminating was out of the question. She knew all the science and everything that went along with that kind of stuff, and while she would never condemn someone for that choice, she couldn't make it herself. Not when they'd used a condom that hadn't broken, and this had still happened. That was divine intervention if she'd ever seen it.
The Pope said not to use them, was that the problem? No, putting the Nativity set under the couch still seemed more likely. She wasn't supposed to have sex with anyone before she was married either, and this hadn't happened with any one of them.
Her fingernails clicked softly against the counter. She could probably hide it for another few months. Maybe more, if she was lucky. She worked out, and her stomach muscles weren't likely to stretch as much. If she was careful, she'd probably gain very little weight. Her mother always said she hadn't.
But that left Abby with a new question. Should she? There were all kinds of chemicals in her lab, some of them potentially dangerous. It probably wasn't any more risky than it was before, but it wouldn't be just her life she'd be playing with anymore. Not just herself she could hurt.
"Please be negative," she whispered, eyeing the screen. It was too early yet for someone to bring her evidence, but if they did she wanted to hide what she was doing before they could figure it out. Not that they'd all know what it meant, just the one that really mattered.
Even if she could hide outward signs, other things would have to change. No more alcohol and she could say good-bye to her Caf-Pows too. The others were bound to notice that. Added with vitamins, they might suspect.
Maybe she could tell them it was a new health kick? That sounded like something she'd do. Probably.
There were always more what ifs. What if she couldn't hide it? What if they didn't buy her story, or if she suddenly gained twenty pounds and started being sick every time she ate something? Dead giveaway right there.
Telling Gibbs, while scary, wouldn't be hard. He might buy in to the whole divine intervention thing, even. He'd be full of advice, probably more protective than usual. He'd start asking her every two minutes if she was alright. Insist she go home instead of spending the night in the lab. Want to know who the father was; to make sure he wasn't going to leave her high and dry.
Tony wouldn't know what to do with himself. Part of him would be thrilled—he had a soft spot for babies, really, though he didn't know she knew that—and part of him would be furious that they hadn't been more careful. Even though they couldn't be. Two percent with perfect usage was still two percent.
He'd want to know the father too, to put the fear of DiNozzo in the guy. He might leave him alone if she asked, though. Possibly. Most likely not.
Ziva would want to know, too. Probably ask more questions than the boys, though her motives would be harder to read. Maybe she'd want to check his intentions, or she might be just curious. It was impossible to say with her.
She could always tell them she didn't know. While not as promiscuous as Tony, Abby wasn't known to be lacking in partners either. She could say there'd been a spell where she'd had a few close together and she wasn't sure which one the baby belonged to.
Abby knew it would be a lie. She'd only been with one guy in the last couple months, and she would never forget it. Lying on the floor in a nest of blankets and clothes when watching Christmas Specials had turned to a teasing kiss; to the make-out session she'd wanted for months, to being on the floor with only the lights from the tree making green eyes and sweaty pale skin glisten as he hovered above her in the dark.
His voice, laughing and half breathless, "Abby, I can't do this while baby Jesus is watching me. It feels weird. Can we turn it around or something?"
Her hands, trembling as she shoved it away, because she'd missed having him like this. She still didn't love him, not like he wanted her to, but…it was Christmas Eve and she knew he wanted to pretend one more time, and for that night so had she.
The Christmas gift that would keep on giving, it seemed.
She could face telling everyone else, but what could she tell Tim? It wouldn't be hard for him to do the math, and if she said it was someone else's it would hurt him in a way that might change them forever. He might not look at her anymore in that way that made her feel like she was the only one in the world, and maybe she didn't love him but if he stopped that she didn't know what she'd do.
But if she did tell him the truth? He'd want to be part of it. Tim wanted children, he never hid this fact from her, even after he learned she didn't right then. He'd insist on wanting to be involved, that this was some kind of sign there were really meant to be. That they should do the right thing.
The right thing…the right thing for who? Getting married and raising this accidental baby didn't sound like the right thing to her, but at this point very little did. At the end of all those months of being sick and hormonal and looking like a manatee with pigtails, what would she do?
Adoption was her first thought, but she felt nauseous at the thought. Not that giving her baby to a stranger upset her, not now when it was just a bundle of cells. It was knowing she'd be giving up everything Tim ever wanted. What right did she have to take that from him, without even telling him? It made her right choice seem wholly unappealing.
She could always try and raise it herself, but how realistic was that really? She was impulsive, and wild, and about as steady as celebrity relationship on a good day. She did pretty well if she remembered to go shopping when there was still food in the house. And she didn't really make enough to support a kid anyway. Not really. It was decent, and if she cut back on some stuff, she could probably do it but…it wouldn't be like home. If she was going to do this, she wanted to it right.
There was that word again. There wasn't a right choice here. There didn't even seem to be a good one.
The tests were done. Hands trembling, and feeling suddenly more frightened than she ever had before, Abby looked up.
Positive: human chorionic gonadotropin found. In a high enough doses there couldn't even be a question.
Deciding to use her now confirmed fluctuating hormones as a scapegoat, Abby let herself begin to cry.