Leaving Abbs' lab for the third time out, Gibbs chucked the third Caf-Pow he'd purchased into the trash. There'd be no point if all the ice was melted. Getting onto the elevator, he slammed the button for the squad room, standing back as the doors slid shut. Stock still, he waited as the car moved up a few floors before slamming his palm against the emergency button.
Groaning, he braced himself on the rail on the wall, his legs spread shoulder-width apart. Lowering his head, he closed his eyes, pain washing over him. His plans to apologize, to try to make it up to Abby were trashed. Three times he had gone down to the forensics lab. Three times he'd brought Caf-Pow. And three times he'd returned to the squad room, Caf-Pows in the trash. She hadn't been in, she wasn't answering his calls.
Walking into the bull pen, Gibbs looked over Tony and Tim, who were both finishing up the paperwork from their most recent closed case, the one that had driven a break through him and Abby. Sitting down at his desk, he shuffled and organized some papers, trying to figure out what to do. He'd never felt so lost or out of sorts. All because of one woman. Putting on his glasses, he turned to his email, determined to get some sort of work done.
His phone rung harshly in the relative quiet, and he picked it up quickly. "Gibbs."
"Gibbs, have you checked your email recently?" Vance asked abruptly.
Disappointed at the voice on his phone, his bit out, "No. Been a little busy on a case, Director."
Taking a deep breath, Vance pinched his nose, trying to keep his cool. He'd had a conversation with Ziva a few hours earlier. From her, he knew that there was a dilemma inside Gibbs' team. Hopefully, they'd be able to work the situation out before he had to step in and intervene.
"Well, if you'd had, you would know that both Abby and Ziva have taken a personal day. Neither woman will be in the office today."
Closing his eyes, he absorbed the news. "Is that all, Director?"
"Nope, that's it. Just thought you should know."
Gibbs hung up the phone quickly, cutting off anymore of the conversation. Rolling his eyes, Vance put his phone back with a click, going back to the mountain of paperwork his teams were turning into him.
Downstairs, Gibbs looked blindly at his computer screen, his heart aching. Dammit, but he wasn't used to feeling this way, feeling anything like this at all. He'd hoped to patch it over with a kiss on the cheek and the Caf-Pow. Anytime when he'd been harsh or distracted, a kiss and a Caf-Pow seemed to fix everything. But if she hadn't been coming into work, what she loved, then it went beyond what he knew to do. This wouldn't be fixed with something simple. And he, for the first time in a long time, was desperate, desperate to fix his break from Abby. He didn't know when or how, but she had become as essential to him as coffee or working on his boat.
Lost in his thoughts and self-deprecating musings, Gibbs failed to notice a ninja crossing the bullpen. Failed to notice, that is, until the ninja dropped a box onto his desk. "What the…?" Bracing himself on the desk, he almost stood up before catching himself. Instead, he looked up, quick to recognize just who the ninja was. "Ziva! You're here. Does that mean…?" He couldn't finish the question, not knowing how much Ziva knew, knowing how much the guys didn't.
Staring down at him knowingly, she swiftly and quietly dissuaded him of that hope. "No, Gibbs. She's not here. She stayed the night at my place." Though the guys would often push them, joking to know the details, hoping, for reasons beyond her, that there would be pillow fights. If they only knew what really happened last night…"We went out for a bit today, but she was on her way home when we parted ways." Ziva refused to expand, though she knew exactly where Abby was headed and what she was planning.
"Is she…when will she be coming back to work?" There was so much he wanted to ask her, so much he needed to find out. But she wasn't a suspect, and this wasn't interrogation, no matter how much he yearned to shoot off questions at her. Besides, there was a look about her, a strong confident feeling that was setting his teeth on edge. He had this overwhelming need to demand what she did with Abby. It didn't make sense. She and Abby hadn't…and even if they had, he had no right to be jealous because…Gibbs was certain he was going to drive himself insane with all of these questions.
"Of course, Gibbs. She is not physically harmed, nor is she ill. She just…needed some time away from the office, as they say." Reaching forwarded, she pushed the white box with its black ribbon towards him.
"What's this?" He asked, confused, not recognizing the label. "Grigio Perla? What is it?" he asked, a little too loudly.
"La Perla?" Tony asked, too cheerily, badly attempting to cover that he'd been trying to listen in. Walking over, he saw the label. "Ahh…Grigio Perla. Nice stuff. A bit pricey for guys underwear though. Wait, Ziva, why are you buying the boss underwear?"
"Nevermind, Tony." Giving him a look that read 'if you don't go back and sit down, I will make you,' she returned her attention to Gibbs, hoping that Tony would at least have the good sense to return to his desk, even if he was eavesdropping. Hearing move in the direction of his desk, she smiled to herself.
"Take this, Gibbs. And go home," she began, pushing the box towards him once more. "Tell Tony and McGee to take the day off, call up Vance. Tell him you are giving the entire team the day off, and go home. Take a shower, put these on underneath your clothes, and go work on your boat."
"Ziva, why would I…"
"Just do it," she interrupted. "Trust me. You do trust me, Gibbs, do you not?" Lowering her voice, she leaned over the desk, closer to him. "You do want to fix things with Abby, yes?"
"Of course I do," he growled.
"Then. Go. Home. Do I say, and go home." Giving him a cryptic, slightly naughty smile, Ziva turned and left without another word, heading towards the elevator.
He watched her go, watched her walk onto the elevator and never turn around. She had all the answers, and if he really had the courage everyone commended him for, he'd chase after her, demanding answers. Even if he had, Ziva probably still wouldn't tell him. She'd keep the damn answers to herself, never breaking Abby's confidence, never telling him what he so urgently needed to know. Instead, she wanted him to go home and take a fucking shower! She was planning something, he could smell it. But would it really help what he had broken between him and Abby?
And that smile she gave him before strutting away. What in the hell did that mean?
"What the hell is going on with my team," he growled, making Tim and Tony jump in their seats.
"Boss?" they asked in unison.
"Go home," he gritted out. "I'm giving you two the day off, since apparently everyone can just not show up to work when they feel like it. Go. Home." He barked when it looked like the two agents would argue with him.
Punching in the director's line, he told Cynthia simply that he was giving his team the day off. Slamming the phone down, he stood up, fingering the ribbon on the box. It was fluttering in the breeze of the air conditioning, teasing him that it knew the answers to what was driving him slowly to his knees.
"Hell." He gave up trying to figure out what was happening and headed towards the elevator in the wake of his agents' bewildered faces, box tucked under his arm. Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw Vance staring down at him from his perch.
As the director gave him a slight nod, Gibbs stiffened up, guessing that Vance had ascertained more than was told to him, more than even he knew about. Not liking one bit that Vance may have more information than he did, he gave him his short customary nod. He couldn't wait around to hand out explanations to a boss that didn't care anyhow, as long as the job got done.
No, instead, he apparently had a date with a shower and whatever was in the box.
Looking at herself in the mirror, Abby couldn't help but think how absurd everything was becoming. Here she was, dressed in a ridiculously expensive La Perla nightie, getting ready to seduce Gibbs in his basement. Turning to look at herself in the mirror, she contemplated how she looked.
Though the outfit seemed outrageous, Abby had to admit that Ziva was right; it fit her like a glove, encasing her body in the most flattering way. And the fact it looked like her body was wrapped in a spider web helped the illusion. Shaking her head, she finished getting ready. Dabbing on some perfume, she continued to debate with herself on the wisdom of the risk she was about to take.
Steam rising around him, Gibbs stepped out of the shower and shook the water from his hair before running a hand through it. Turning towards the towel hanging off the shower door, his movement caused a few strands of hair to pop up in a cowlick at the crown of his head. Drying off, he wrapped the towel low over his hips, walking out of the bathroom in a haze of steam. As he approached the bed, he considered the box he left there.
Growling, he pulled the ribbon, watching it fall to the bed. Flicking the lid off, he unfolded the white tissue paper inside, paper so delicate it threatened to fall apart from the calluses on his fingers. Pushing the paper aside, he pulled out the black boxers nestled inside.
His eyes squinted in irritation as he looked over the underwear. What in the hell was Ziva playing at? Crumpling up the fabric, he was about to toss it into a corner of his room, when he changed his mind. Rolling his head back, the feeling that he was about to succumb to Ziva's directions had him frustrated. Finally, he pulled the towel off, baring his skin to the cool air of the room.
The hair on his legs prickled as he slowly pulled the boxers over his legs. He groaned as he adjusted himself. The fabric was smooth, soft enough to drive him to semi-hardness just by putting it on. It wrapped around him, cradling him in half-suspension, caressing him in ways clothes shouldn't. If he had to wear it longer than a little while, he'd barely be able to make it downstairs to his boat.
Serves me right, lusting after Abby and breaking her like that. But it went beyond mere lust for Gibbs. He was almost terrified that his heart, as well as Abby's, had be become involved. They were intertwined, in one way or another, and Gibbs had to figure out which way that was. Did he simply enjoy her company and the way her quick mind worked? Or when his heart beat faster at the sight of her, his lips demanded more than simple contact with her cheek, when his arms sought to defy his brain to hug her tightly, did it mean that his heart was no longer and things were fatally beyond his control?
Shaking his head to rid himself of the dangerous thoughts that threatened to send him to Abby's doorstep, begging her forgiveness, he dressed quickly, determined to ignore his aching groin. The bedroom door slammed behind him, accompanied by the sounds of his feet hitting the stairs. Reaching the landing of the main floor, Gibbs looked around, aware of subtle changes in the air. Something had changed since he had gone upstairs, something more than his underwear.
Wishing he could put it off as a coincidence, as his mind simply overworking every nuance around him, he did a sweep of the house, finding nothing amiss. Coming to the front door, he found it locked, something he never did, with a faint hint of gunpowder and orchid in the air.
Rushing down the stairs to his basement, he hesitated on the last few before they turned in towards the room. Closing his eyes, he took a steadying breath and opened them slowly. In front of him, a woman, with black hair falling around her shoulders, stood tracing her finger over one of the ribs of his boat. A memory flashed through a fog-hazed memory of him tracing a name in the wood. Her name. His girl.
"Abby?" he asked, afraid she was really wasn't there, that he'd finally snapped, and she was a hallucination, sent to torment rather than to charm.
His vision turned slowly towards him, her hair shadowing the spiderweb tattoo, obscuring it from view. A part of his brain recognized that her hair was not in her normal pigtails, or even braids, but down around her shoulders in a style she only wore when she was upset or intense. She wore a dark skirt that wrapped tightly around her waist, slit on the side to show skin all the way to her hip. Her white blouse gapped to show enough cleavage to drag him under, and her long pale legs encased in tall leather boots.
Her face, normally with overly darkened eyes, was covered in very little makeup, causing her green eyes to scream at him with vulnerability, a black collar standing out against her white throat. This collar was devoid of spikes, but rather contained a line of circular crystals through the middle, winking at him, teasing him to come and run his tongue along the smooth leather and rough edges of light.
Walking towards her, every step mesmerized by her eyes, her mouth as she bit her lower lip. He felt a punch to his stomach and his groin tighten as she let it go, tongue running along the edge, leaving a bright shine to the reddened lip. As he stopped in front of her, inches from the body he wished to wrap in his arms, her hand came up and played with the open edges of her blouse. From the corner of his eyes, he could see some sort of place lace. But he couldn't concentrate on that, he had to keep his attention on her, afraid she would bolt and, this time, be the one to run.
Reaching out, he brushed her hair from her face, sighing as he finally accepted that she was real and not a vision his mind had created. "Abby."
His fingers danced over her skin, a light touch, roughened by years of hard work as a Marine, as a man. Fingers sending lightening through her body, Abby leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for only a brief moment before opening them again.
"Gibbs, I'm…" He stopped her by pressing his finger to her lips, then stunned her by pressing his forehead to hers.
"You're not the one who should be apologizing, Abbs. I said…I said some horrible things to you. None of which are true." Abby tried to stop him, by he shook his head against hers. "No, Abbs. Let me finish."
He took a deep breath to steady himself and started again. "When I said you were failing at your job, I lied. We all let that suspect slip through. We caught him, by the way, and he's gonna stay behind bars for a long time, thanks to you and the rest of the team." Getting himself back on track, he continued. "You are one of the best forensics scientists in the country, probably the best. You find things where no one else can, clues in the middle of chaos. You help me give victims peace. Not a lot of people can say that, can say that they spend their days solving questions in order to fight for victims."
Pulling away, he put his finger under her chin, forcing her head up so that he could look her in the eyes. His intense cobalt blue eyes bore into the deep jade green of hers. They sought out the truth, the pain and joy of it, not flinching from everything he saw. And he saw it all, to the depths of the essence of what made her Abby.
"Most of all, Abbs, you are no freak. You are a beautiful, talented, slightly crazy, very caffeinated, intelligent, spirited woman." Brushing his thumb over her lips, he wondered why she didn't have them painted. "And I…" He hesitated, on the brink. But no matter how much his heart screamed at him, his brain couldn't get past the barrier, he couldn't take the step.
Her heart was racing at his touch, her eyes locked on his, unable to look away. "Why, Gibbs? Why'd you say all that?"
He ducked his head and moved away, wary of having to explain it again. "Because I was pissed, Abbs. I was pissed that the gut that everyone hailed as being infallible failed me. I took it out on you, Abbs, and I shouldn't have." He moved to where he had carved her name into the rib of his boat. "I laid here, last night, wondering what I could do to fix it, how I could convince you I didn't mean it, that I'd only been striking out at the first person I could. And, I'm…I'm so sorry I did that. God, Abby. I'm so sorry."
Stepping away from the boat a few steps, she whispered, "I thought apologizing was a sign of weakness…"
"Not to you, Abbs," Gibbs said steadily, turning to face her, though her back was to him. "Never to you. I…last night, I decided how to show you how much I…" He was about to say 'love you,' but his mind rebelled again. "I carved your name into her rib. I wanted to name her after you, Abbs. I needed you to know."
Taking a deep breath to fortify herself, she turned to face him, her hand playing with the top button of her blouse. "I thought you hated me, Gibbs. I thought you…"
"Abby, no. I could never hate you." He started to take a step towards her, but stopped when she held a hand up. "Abby…" Gibbs was as close to begging as he'd ever been.
"Stop, Gibbs. Just stop. I don't want you to apologize. I don't want you to beg." She lowered her eyes as she felt her body heat up at the thought of what she really did need from him.
"What can I do to get you to forgive me? What do you want, Abbs? Whatever you want me to do…" He stopped when she looked up, seeing the fire in her eyes.
Slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse and skirt, letting them fall to the floor as he stood there, mesmerized. Wrapping her body in gossamer silk, the nightie was a confection of spider webs and fire, encompassing her breasts in flames, resting on the tops of her hips in the spider's strands. In the darkened basement, he could only see a shadow nestled at the juncture of her thighs, unsure if she wore panties that blended with the laced silk. Her nipples thrust through the flames, enticing him to taste through their soft prison.
His eyelids lowered and he gritted his jaw. For a brief moment, he tried to resist, tried to halt his body from moving towards hers. But seeing her body wrapped in spider webs, a continuation of the tattoo on her neck spreading out across her body, seeing her eyes burning for him, Gibbs found he just didn't have the strength to stop.
She watched him walk towards her, stalking her; not to consume her, not a hunter after his prey, but as a tiger after his tigress, a predator after his mate. A shiver ran through her body as every step brought him closer to her. She gasped his name as he finally reached her space.
He paused a moment, a moment to give her the chance to pull away, the last chance to stop before they started. Not hesitating, not waiting a single breath, Abby knew what she wanted. She had waited far too long as it was.
Shifting forward, she closed the final breath between them, placing her hands against his chest. "What do I want you to do? I don't want you to do anything, Gibbs. I need you to touch me, to taste me, to take me. I need you, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, to make me yours."
Digging his hands into her hair, he understood why she left it down, but he still missed the pigtails. Moving to slam his mouth down to hers, he stopped teasing her a hairsbreadth from contact. He smiled when she growled his name. "Gib…" But she didn't have the chance to say his name; her mouth was too busy being taken over by his.
He bent her nearly in two as his mouth slowly explored this new territory. And it was his territory now. She became his the moment she stepped into his house, into his basement. Hell, she was his the moment she stepped into his life. His Abby. His girl.
Releasing a hand, he trailed his fingers down the side of her neck, fingering the flimsy strap at her shoulder. Moving lower, he traced the fiery edges of the nightie, the top of her breast exposed to his touch. He continued to tease, not moving any further, not pressing against her any harder, even as she groaned and squirmed against him.
Arching her neck, she broke contact with his lips as she moaned her need. She needed to feel him, needed him to feel her. Her hands, clutching at his shoulders, released their hold and pushed lower, edging under his t-shirt. "I need…you…" Abby couldn't finish her sentence, her brain refusing to form the words.
Pulling back briefly, he gave her the space to remove his shirt before pressing his body hard against hers again, his mouth instantly finding her neck. He traced the lines of her throat, moving slowly to the pulse beating at the bottom. Sucking lightly, he gave himself a moment to cherish in his mind the feeling of her life beneath him, poised to take him as he was preparing to take her.
His hand moved lower to tease her nipple as it circled closer, but never really reaching. The hands that were moving across his back bit down, the nails raking over him lightly as she moaned his name.
"Gibbs. Oh God, Gibbs." The feeling of him against, the knowledge that it was really him, drove Abby higher and even more desperate. Trailing her hands down, she pushed at his jeans, wanting them off.
Pulling one of her legs behind his waist, his lips traveled lower over her collarbone as he growled. "Jethro. Call me Jethro," he ordered as he sucked in a nipple through the lacey fabric. Biting down, he thrust against her through what remained of their clothes.
Screaming his name, she lost all sense of self as her body exploded in climax. Thrusting again, he moved his hand between their bodies and under the webbing surround her. He took her mouth again, growling in the back of his throat as he discovered what she had underneath, or the lack thereof. In the shadows of his basement, he couldn't tell what she had on beneath the spider webs and flames. But against his hand, he felt nothing, but wet flesh of her pussy. Pushing a finger inside, he rubbed at her sensitive flesh, sending her crashing over again.
Distracted as she was, she failed to notice Gibbs pick her up as if she weighed nothing. It wasn't until she felt the bite of the wood against her back that she realized they had moved. She was suddenly bereft of his heat, so she opened her eyes. But what she saw had her grinning a greedy smile.
He was quickly, if not so gracefully, divulging himself of his clothes. The sound of ripping packaging filled the air, before she saw him slip the condom on before moving in. She started to protest; she wanted to see him more of him after all. But he growled again. "Later. I can't wait much longer, Abbs. God, I need you. I need to be inside of you. Now."
Nodding in agreement, she pulled him in as he lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist. Positioned at the core of her, he teased her entrance with the tip of him, coating his cock with her juices. Bracing herself against the ribs of the boat, her body poised against the brink, she moaned his name, crazed with the need to feel him buried inside of her.
Prolonging the feeling, he tried to hold off, tried to make this first time last longer between them. But emotions had run so hot and it had been so long, that Gibbs didn't know how much longer he was going to last. As he stilled, mentally debating with himself again, Abby made the decision for him. Moving her head to his, she whispered near his ear. "If you don't fuck me now, Jethro, I'm going to leave you behind. My body can't take any more waiting. Now, Jethro. Fuck me now."
Plunging deep inside of her, he cried out. "Abbs…God. You feel…incredible. You're so hot and tight. I don't think I'm going to last. Dammit, but you deserve to be taken slowly and gently. Not like an animal."
Still near his ear, she growled back. "I may deserve that, but I don't want it. I want you to take me hard, fast, as animal as you can, as primal as I feel right now. Later, you can make love to me. But Jethro, right now, I just want you to fuck me."
Roaring his pleasure, Gibbs started thrusting hard and fast, pushing her against the smooth wood. Just like his deepest fantasies, he had her against the side of his boat. But unlike his fantasies, she was hotter than he could have imagined. Her body was so wet and tight, made for the thrusting of his, made for being taken by him, only him.
Their sounds, her screams and his groans, echoed through the cavern of the basement, sounds of their bodies slamming together, wet, hot sounds as his body took hers roughly. Her nails scored his back again as she felt her body tense, getting ready for the final release. "I'm so close. Don't stop. Yes. Jeth…don't. Stop."
He was so close, he would have chosen death over stopping. Hearing her cries, he picked up speed, plunging impossibly harder as her body took his impossibly deeper. She shouldn't have been able to accept his punishing thrusts, but she did, over and over, screaming for more. Feeling the walls of her pussy tighten around him, he thrust roughly one final time, driving them both over the edge into an orgasm that tore their worlds apart.
His body continued to move, hips moving slowly as they both came down. Her body was still wrapped around his as he slid out, groaning against the fact he had to leave the cock-hugging space. Gathering her in his arms, he moved towards the stairs, carrying her limp body up and through the house. Going up the last flight of stairs, he made it to his bedroom. Slipping inside, he moved to the bed, pulling the sheets down.
Setting her on her feet, he smiled at her dazed look. Pulling the nightie up and over her head, he tossed the scrap of fabric towards the chair in the corner of the room before laying Abby out on the bed. She made a sound of distress, not wanting him to leave her.
"Easy, Abbs. I'm right here." He crawled in next to her, gathering her up into his arms again. Pulling the sheets over them, he encircled her body with his as their sweat cooled in the night air. "Sleep, my little spitfire. I'm not going to let you go."
The bright light of the moon woke him up as he looked down at the woman wrapped around his chest. Pushing the black hair aside, he fell into the surreal spell of the moon as he was amazed at the fact it hadn't been a dream.
Rolling her over onto her back, he slowly kissed her awake, covering her body as he made love to her as she had promised. Slow, drugged kisses. Hot moans. Rolling climaxes that shook her body and shattered his heart.
Drunk off of each other, they fell asleep again under the spell of the moon, as it cast laced shadows over the room.
Sometime in the early morning hours, Abby woke up. Staring at Gibbs, she brushed the hair from his brow, smoothing the worry lines from his face. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips, she slipped out of the bed and padded naked to the window.
Staring out the glass, she thought about all that had happened. About Ziva. About Gibbs. About how the two had brought her such love, in such different ways. In Ziva, she had a friend that would enrich her life for the entirety of it. And in Gibbs, she had a man who would drive her crazy, then drive her to explode.
Feeling Gibbs' arms slip around her, she knew she shouldn't have been surprised that she didn't really slip out of the bed undetected, or that she hadn't heard him come up behind her. As he nuzzled her neck, he asked, "What are you thinking about, Abbs?"
Considering it seriously, she answered, "Cosmo's moon."
"You've been watching too many movies with Tony again, Spitfire. I think I'm going to have to keep you distracted."
She laughed, arching her head for him. "I'm impressed you got the reference, Jethro. You've seen Moonstruck?"
"If you're impressed by that, you've got a lot to learn about me," he warned good naturedly as he slipped a finger inside of her. He laughed as she gasped in shock. "It's good to see I can surprise you. You're gonna have to learn to keep on your toes," he warned, adding another finger.
As her body started to ride his hand, she laughed. "I'm looking forward to it."