disclaimer on profile

She used her spare key and unlocked his apartment door.

He'd been hurt... again... in the line of duty. Apparently, the man couldn't avoid bullets, or beatings, or the freakin' plague to save his life.

Dropping her bag, she bent over and unzipped her boots, toeing them off and leaving them beside the bag at the door.

Black socks padding across the living room, and down the hall, she pushed at the partially open bedroom door and took in the sight before her. Tony lay sprawled across the bed, on his back. His jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, and his t shirt half on, half off, the sling for his sprained wrist obviously having halted his ability to get ready for bed.

His eyes were closed, and he was snoring, lightly.

Stepping back into the hall, she moved to the kitchen, pulled open the junk drawer, and sifting around in the contents, she found a pair of scissors. As she walked back towards the bedroom, she pulled her own t shirt off over her head, tossing it carelessly on the couch.

Placing the scissors on the mattress next to Tony's body, she hooked her hands around the waistband of his pants, tugging at them rather unceremoniously.

He groaned, and sniffed, and tried to scratch his face as his eyes blinked open. "Ouch!" he grimaced as he realized that his arm was encased in a sling.

"Up" Abby demanded and tugged at this jeans again.

"Huh? Oh." A lazy smile curved over his face as he realized Abby was in his room. In his room and wearing a short pleated skirt and a black bra with red flames embroidered on it. He lifted his hips obediently and Abby pulled his pants and boxers down his legs.

"So what happened this time?" She asked as she picked up the scissors.

Tony had a sudden unrealistic moment of worry that Abby was thinking about castrating him, then he remembered she loved him. She loved him and his family jewels. He smiled up at her as she crawled onto the bed.

Abby straddled Tony's hips, grabbed the edge of his t shirt and began to cut at the thin cotton material; the cool metal of the scissors making him squirm just a bit.

She stopped cutting and looked down at him when she realized he hadn't answered her. "Tony?"

"Huh?" he dragged his eyes from her chest and focused on her face. "What?"

She started cutting again, "What happened mister? How'd you get into this mess?" She pointed to the sling that she was still working around.

Tony lifted his free hand to Abby's chest, massaging a breast. "Let's just say that McGeek is a lot heavier than he looks."

She grinned, "So you hurt yourself lifting McGee?"

"No. There was no lifting. There was shooting and then there was pulling and then there was McGee landing on my arm."

Abby smiled happily as she finally released Tony from his shirt. Tossing the scissors on the floor she leaned forward, one hand on either side of Tony's head. "So, you were playing hero again?"

"There was no playing. I am a hero."

Abby lowered her head to his lips, "that's right. You're my hero." Her mouth brushed against his and she heard him groan as her hips flared against his. "So, hero, where does it hurt? And what can I do to make it feel better?"