Disclaimer: Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude. No.


Author's Note: Don't you just hate it when your favorite character to write for is also the one that you find most frustrating to write for? Well, that's the situation here. I love writing for Abby and I love writing for Gibbs, but goshdarnit if they writing their dialog doesn't just drive me absolutely insane. I mean, I just...its really difficult to write the way that Abby talks. All the inflection and emphasis and endearing rambling and...Abby-ness that there is to it. I mean, that's just something that you have to hear to get, I think. Pauley does a wonderful job with the character. My gosh, not just anyone could do that part justice. And so much of Gibbs is nonverbal which shows the skill of, not only Mark Harmon, but the editors and camera crew. Its just...there's so much more than speaking when these two characters are communicating. So, I'm gonna count on your imagination to give this one life. I mean, I'm not saying that I wrote and awful story. What I'm saying is, you've gotta visualize it. Also, this is a story that focuses on Gibbs and Abby as a pseudo-father-and-daughter kinda thing. So, if you are just sickened by that prospect, this might not be the place for you.


Focal Character: Abby


Abby sighed, it was hard to stay chipper when everything was going wrong.

Two days ago, at a crime scene, Tony had been shot. This, of course, sent Abby into total meltdown mode until Ziva assured her her that he had only been shot in the arm. She calmed down more when Tony shot her a grin and joked that it was only a flesh wound.

Gibbs took the agent off field duty until his arm was back to full capacity, so the better part of Tony's day was spent in Abby's lab. At first, Abby found his company amusing, but as time went one (and painkillers were consumed), he found herself understanding McGee and Ziva's seemingly perpetual frustration with their fellow agent. It was like there was a five-year-old in the lab...a six-foot-three-inch five-year-old who had the ability to pick locks. It didn't take long for the company to become too much for Abby to handle and, as much as it pained her to do so, she temporarily banned Tony from her lab.

Then, when another body turned up on Friday afternoon, it became apparent that they would be working through the weekend. Her heart fell in an instant.

That evening, she called her cousin who was supposed to pick her up from the airport, and explained the circumstances.

Now, it was Sunday morning and Abby didn't even feel like being in her lab, let alone work. Gibbs strode in with a Caff-Pow in his hand. He sat it in front of her while silently taking in her unusually down demeanor, "'S wrong, Abs?"

"Everything," she stated flatly.

"Somethin' wrong with the evidence?"

"No, Gibbs. Nothing is wrong with the evidence. The evidence is just great. Everything is perfect with the evidence," she said, getting more and more frustrated.

"Then what's goin' on?" Gibbs asked gently.

"Do you even know what day it is, Gibbs?:

"Sunday."

"Not just any Sunday! It's Fathers' Day! And I had plans! I was going to Louisiana to see my dad and now I'm stuck here! And I can't even tell him 'happy Fathers' Day' because he took out the phone because he got angry at the talk-to-text and he doesn't do good with webcams and he checks his email about like you do and I don't get much time off so I don't know when I'll get to see him again and I had been planning this for weeks and I know no one plans for a dead body to show up, but couldn't they have just waited until after Fathers' Day?" Abby ranted.

"Abs, Abs," Gibbs called to silence her.

She stopped talking and looked at him with the stare of a sad child and that look always reduced Gibbs's heart of stone to a puddle, "I'll make sure you get time to go see your family."

"Really? Gibbs, you're amazing!" she captured the stoic in a bone-crushing hug, "You're the greatest almost-dad that anyone could ever wish for.:

Gibbs smirked and returned her hug.

Even if she couldn't be with her real dad, Abby had her NCIS dad and, until he got his own national holiday, she could celebrate him on Fathers' Day.


A.N.: I hope I did them justice, here. Like I said, I'm not the greatest at writing for Abby and Gibbs. Lemme tell ya though, if you could see the paper copy of this story, where it gets to the rambling all that's there is frantic scribbles that (with painstaking study) might resemble words. I was writing it about as fast as Abby would speak it and, when you've got handwriting like mine, that's not such a good idea.

Also, not whining, just saying: I've got, like, a bajillion 'so-and-so added your story to their story alerts', which I love, but I have yet to get even one review. But, hey, at least you're reading it. That's all I could really hope for.