A/N: Hello, I am back on this story finally! I'll admit, the first chapter was pretty bad, but hopefully this one is better. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy!

People poked their heads out of windows to see what all the fuss was about. McGee had made such a loud tyre-track sound as he backed out of the car park that it could be heard all down the street and it left long black marks on the asphalt.

He raced towards Abby's apartment in a sweat, feeling fellow driver's angry glares as he sped down the road. The traffic noises and the horns blared inside his head. Could it just all just be a crazy coincidence? He almost heard Gibbs' voice inside his head telling him there was no such thing. But Abby, a singer? Was it even possible? Did she know she was going to be famous? Probably not. She didn't listen to the radio much. Her huge CD collection was enough to keep her going through tough cases.

McGee spotted Abby's apartment building and swerved to avoid several cars as he turned into the parking lot and slammed down the brakes. Maybe being the only one on the team who can stand Ziva's driving had its benefits. Then he leapt out of the car and sprinted into the elevator. As the doors closed, he had a breather. Luckily, there was no one else in the elevator. It occurred to him that he could have just called Abby, but then again, something this big might be reason for a face-to-face meeting.

When McGee arrived at Abby's, in a sweat, she was inside, calmly talking to a man who appeared to be a reporter. He had a digital recorder and a notepad with him and was asking Abby questions about her song.

"It's very special for a new star to hit number one on her first song. Has the excitement worn off yet?" the man asked.

"Uh, I...what? My song hit number one?"

"Well, yeah, it's the biggest hit of the week. Don't you listen to the radio?"

"Not really." Abby shook her head.

"Well, thank you very much, Miss Sciuto. Personally, I think the public are gonna love you. Come by at nine tomorrow for your photo shoot." The man turned around to leave and saw McGee standing there.

"Are you Miss Sciuto's manager, sir?" he asked.

"No," McGee told him. "Now please leave, I have to talk to Abby."

"Heard the news, huh? Are you a close friend?"

McGee pushed him out the door and locked it behind him.

"Number one single? Abby, what's going on? You're a forensic scientist, since when are you a singer? Why didn't you tell me?" McGee was clearly freaking out.

"McGee, McGee, relax, I only just found out it became a number one hit."

"Does Gibbs know about this?"

"No. No one does. Look, about four months ago I recorded a demo and I got signed. I recorded twelve songs for them. 'Fear' was just the first and it has hit number one. I never expected this to lead to anything; it was just exciting at the time and...Timmy, what am I going to do?" Abby paced up and down the room. "What if I end up being stalked by the paparazzi and then Gibbs gets a hold of 'em and then he could get arrested or something. He's so protective. He'd have agents protecting my apartment 24/7. As for you, and Tony, Ziva, Palmer, Ducky, they'll keep asking you to be their 'inside men', or 'woman' in Ziva's case. You know, you'd be a source spilling the dirt on me."

"Abby, there is no dirt to spill. And you work at a federal agency; the paparazzi would have no chance. And anyway, all you have to do to avoid the bad half of fame is be good, which won't be too difficult. Don't cheat on people, try not to date too many celebrities, don't starve yourself, you know, that kind of thing."

"What if they make me dress differently?"

"Don't listen. You be who you wanna be, and that's all you need."

Abby threw her arms around McGee's neck. "You always know what to say, Timmy."

McGee held Abby for as long as he could, but when it was over, he had to ask the next question.

"So, are we gonna tell the others or do you want them to find out for themselves?"

"What do you think I should do?" Abby plonked down onto the sofa, now a little scared and clueless.

"Well, they deserve to know, and they're not going to figure it out. Unless one of them Googles you." He laughed half-heartedly. "Look, Gibbs doesn't listen to the radio, Ziva listens to her stuff, which is about as far from Top 40 as you can get, Tony likes jazz and I'm pretty sure Ducky listens to records."

"Palmer?" she asked, sceptically.

"Look, I don't know, but I think you should tell them. They are your friends, aren't they?"

"McGee, they're like my family, it's just...I don't want them to judge me."

"They won't judge you. I promise." He gripped her shoulders, stroking the seam of her cardigan with his thumb.

She hugged him in a way that knocked the air out of his lungs.

"Abby..." he choked. "I know you're scared but can you please loosen your grip a little?"

She obeyed.

"Come on," Tim said, holding his hand out to her. "We'll go tell Gibbs."

"Can't we just call him?" the Goth asked, beginning to rummage through her handbag.

"I think we should probably tell him in person," he said wisely. "It's a pretty big deal."

Abby smiled sweetly, her pigtails making her look much younger than she actually was, and took her co-worker's hand as he led her out the door.

A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I updated by the way. I have so many stories going at the moment. It's hard to keep track. OK so my plan for this story is to do about five chapters, maybe more but most likely five. I have something of a plan inside my head. Anyway, I'd love to hear from you. :)