Title: Yawns at Dawn
Summary: It's not exactly appropriate behaviour to go to your boss's house in the early hours of the morning and fall asleep on his bed, without even saying hi. But Abby's pulled a string of all-nighters, and sleep-fogged minds work in mysterious ways…
Author's Note: Written for the prompt 'it's been a while' for week 7 of the Gabby Hiatus Creative Drive on the Gabby forum.
I'm overworked, sleep-deprived and about three Caf-Pow!s short of a good mood. The lab has been crazy lately, and I even snapped at Gibbs the other day, when he tried to get me to actually go home for the night. He didn't take offence, but he did back off. Guess I can't blame him.
It's five in the morning when my computer beeps, dragging me up out of a doze. I crawl off my futon and stumble over to the monitor, heaving a sigh of relief when I see my final outstanding DNA match waiting for me. "Score…"
After I email the result up to Agent Balboa's team, who've been working the graveyard shift this week, I contemplate going back to sleep. Someone's bound to disturb me with something if I stay here, though, and with the overtime I've clocked up over the past few days, I figure I'm way past due a change of scenery.
My head is clear enough for me to drive, so I walk out into the bluish light of pre-dawn, making a beeline for my car. The more I think about it, the more I want to see Gibbs and apologise for yelling at him. Is five a.m. too early?
It probably is, but I won't sleep until I've told him, and I really need to sleep. The drive to Gibbs' place is short, and I park on the street, let myself in – the door's never locked – and head for the basement, just in case.
He's not there, and all the lights are off. Guess he must have actually made it upstairs to his bed – more than once, I've found him asleep under his half-finished boat.
I've been in his bedroom before, though not while he's been anywhere near the vicinity of the bed. Gibbs in bed… now, there's a thought. A thought I shouldn't be having. And even if I should be having it, which I really, really shouldn't, I'm too tired to do any of the things that I'm not thinking about.
Gibbs' bedroom door is slightly ajar, and I peek through the narrow gap at the outline of a Gibbs-sized shape under the bedcovers. He's alone, thank god – why didn't I stop and think that he might have had company? Maybe because I don't wanna imagine him with anyone else.
I mean, anyone, period. Don't know where the 'else' came from.
I push open the door and cross the room, sitting at the very edge of his bed. There's enough light filtering through the drapes that I can make out his features, unguarded and peaceful in sleep. And he's definitely one of the most attractive men I've ever laid eyes on.
Not that that matters. I think lots of men are good-looking. Nothing special about Gibbs. Nuh-uh.
Oh, who am I kidding? The man makes my heart skip with a glance, and he doesn't even know it.
And I can't wake him up this early. It was stupid of me to even think it. Maybe I should just lie down on the empty side of his bed and get some shut-eye. It's so warm and comfy, and I haven't slept properly in about four days. But it's not exactly appropriate behaviour to go to your boss's house in the early hours of the morning and fall asleep on his bed, without even saying hi.
I get up before my brain shuts down completely, stifling a yawn and then tiptoeing toward the door. Just as I reach it, a weary mumble stops me in my tracks.
"Abby… what are you doing in my room at…" A slight pause while he checks the time, and then he continues, "… five thirty-four in the morning?"
I spin to watch him raise his body up on one elbow, and the bedcovers slip down a little, and he's not wearing a shirt, and I'm just staring at him like a deer in headlights… Really sexy headlights. Sexy headlights? I must need sleep even more than I thought.
"I came to tell you I'm sorry for yelling at you the other day."
He sighs, but he's smiling a little, and his hair is tousled and for some reason, the sight of his bare shoulder is just making my head spin… "Abbs, when was the last time you slept for more than an hour?"
I try to think back, but time has just blurred into one incomprehensible unit. "It's been a while," I admit.
"C'mere," he says, beckoning.
Hesitantly, I approach the bed, and he pulls back the covers, revealing his toned-but-not-too-muscle-bound upper body in its entirety. Wow. If I was more awake right now, I'd so be flirting with him, but all of a sudden it's an effort to speak.
He gets out of bed, and I take in the sweatpants he's wearing with a pang of disappointment. In all those fantasies I so don't have, he sleeps naked, but I guess that would make this situation a little awkward.
"Sit down," he tells me, and I sink into the softness of the bed again, yawning.
He crouches and unlaces my boots, looking more awake now. "You manage to get Balboa's forensics done?"
I let him pull the footwear free of my feet, nodding. "Yeah… and he better be grateful."
Gibbs stands again, then motions for me to shift across the bed. "Lie down, Abbs. You need to sleep."
"Can't sleep in my bra, won't be comfortable," I mumble automatically, then realise exactly who I've just shared that piece of information with and bite my lip. Of all the people I could have said it to, it had to be Gibbs?
For a second, he's quiet. When he speaks, his voice is just a touch lower and rougher. "My back's turned. You can take it off."
I've come this far – might as well go all the way. "Wasn't worried about you sneaking a peek, Gibbs. All y'have to do is ask."
Startled, he looks over his shoulder at me, and I raise a suggestive eyebrow… or try to. What comes out is another yawn, which is only alluring if you're a sloth or something. Great, Abby. What part of this was a good idea, again?
Gibbs grins, surprising me, and turns his back again. "Do what you need to and get into bed, Abbs. You're in no state for a striptease right now."
He disappears out into the hallway as I pull off my shirt and unfasten my bra, and I call after him, "Later?"
"We'll talk when you can tell me who's President… without yawning."
"It's O…" Another yawn threatens to dislocate my jaw, and I give up, grumbling under my breath and wriggling back into my shirt.
My skirt's a little scratchy – it's gonna have to go. I leave it on the floor with my bra, strip out of my over-the-knee socks and then pull the ties out of my pigtails. Sliding under the covers into the warm space Gibbs vacated, I call out, "I'm done…"
He reappears in the doorway, his eyes flitting to the black bra with red lace ribbons that's just lying on the floor. That was down to my laziness, not a conscious effort to seduce him, but watching his face, I just know he's wondering if I'm wearing matching panties.
Gibbs raises an eyebrow, and I roll off his side of the bed onto my front, resting my head on my arms and watching him. He pulls back the covers enough to join me, inadvertently uncovering me enough to see that my skirt is long gone. And that yup, the panties match.
It really sucks that I'm so tired. I could so turn this situation to my advantage…
"Hope you're not gonna regret this in the morning, Abbs." He pulls the covers up over us both, and I snuggle closer, unable to resist the opportunity to rest my head against the bare skin of his arm.
"I know you're not…" I can talk the talk… I'm hoping I can walk the walk when I wake up, too.
Gibbs holds out for a second or two, but no more. He pulls me against his body, his chest warm against my back, his hand resting lightly on my stomach. With a slow, light kiss to the back of my neck, he tells me, "Sleep now. Games later."
Cocooned within the warmth of his embrace, I'm already too close to oblivion to answer.