Title: New Addictions
Spoilers: Enemies Domestic, season eight
Summary: Acting Director Gibbs hasn't been down to Abby's lab in three days. To say that she's unimpressed is an understatement.
Author's Note: Because there were no Gabby scenes in this week's episode. Damn you, Jesse Stern!
He looks up as Abby pushes the door closed behind her, sealing them inside Vance's office. "Call me that again, and I'll fire you, Abbs. What's up?"
"I haven't seen you in three days! McGee keeps trying to be you, and it's creeping me out."
Sighing, he sets down the report he's been reading and takes off his reading glasses. His gaze falls on the coffee cup within her grasp, but she makes no effort to hand it over. "You came all the way up here to complain about McGee?"
"Nope. I came all the way up here to see you." She sits on the edge of the desk, looking forlorn. "It's only five floors. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were enjoying your newfound power."
Gibbs leans back in his chair, concentrating on her face rather than the smooth, pale stretch of thigh between the hem of her skirt and the top of her purple-and-grey knee sock. "Just keeping the chair warm for Leon. His choice, not mine."
Her half-petulant expression fades into concern. "How is he?"
"Doing better than I am," he says dryly. "From the sounds of it, Jackie's gonna have him laid up for another three weeks."
"Really?" Abby raises a suggestive eyebrow, and he bites back a smile. "Well, at least you can sleep on Vance's couch instead of at your desk."
"Starting to think I should build a boat in here," he says, weariness falling over him like a blanket at the admission. "Haven't been home in a couple of days."
"I'm so glad there's a shower room here," she teases, heading over to the couch and beckoning for him to join her. "You look like you could use a break."
"More like a retirement," he mutters, sitting down beside her. "You gonna give me that coffee, or did you come up here to make me feel worse?"
Abby's response is a punch to his arm that hits a little too hard. "Don't even joke about that! Didn't you see me, back when you last retired? I was a mess! Worse than a mess; I was a wreck! A sugar-dependent, nostalgic wreck!"
"I was in Mexico for most of it," he reminds her. "Kinda miss it."
He doesn't choose to torment her often, but when he does, she always falls for it. "Don't even think about it, Gibbs. You can retire when you're dead. Vance needs you. I need you."
"Oh, you do, huh?" Now he's reaching for things beyond his grasp – maybe it's Vance's chair, giving him ideas above his station, because there's no way Abby would ever–
"More than you think." She holds out the coffee as soon as she realises she's said it aloud, seeking to distract him.
It works, for the couple of seconds it takes for him to take a sip, and for his mind to give a thankful sigh at the approaching caffeine jolt. Then he sets the cup aside and watches her.
"McGee keeping you in cheek kisses?"
She shrugs. "Yeah, but it's not the same. I mean, it's nice, and all, but it's kinda like comparing the Diet Coke and Mentos experiment to the Large Hadron Collider."
He might not comprehend most of it, but he does listen when she talks about science unrelated to the cases they're working. Acting on instinct, he presses a kiss to her cheekbone, taking it as a compliment.
Her cheek curves irresistibly with her smile, her eyes falling closed. To avoid temptation, Gibbs takes another sip of coffee, letting its bitterness shock some sense into him.
At least, that's the theory. "Feel better now?"
"For now. If I don't get my regular fix of Gibbs appreciation, I get cranky." The words are playful, but he can sense the intent behind them. It's as if being away from her for a few days has given him a little extra insight.
It's late, he's tired, and he's been shut up in this damn office too long. He allows himself one final move, tilting her head with gentle fingers so that he can press a kiss to her other cheek. "Now you can last twice as long."
Abby's breath hitches; the gasp is so slight that he'd never notice it amid the chaotic noise of her lab. Here in the deep silence of Vance's office, it's unmistakable.
She opens her eyes before he can pull away, and her gaze drops to his lips for one involuntary moment. She must see the realisation dawning on him; caught between anticipation and trepidation, she whispers, "Don't think so. Got anything stronger?"
He presses his lips to hers, lingering longer than he ever has against her cheek. She kisses back, her tongue darting out for a playful instant before she draws away. "Gotta warn you, Gibbs… this could be more addictive than Caf–"
He kisses away the final syllable, setting his coffee cup aside blindly. Sinking back against the couch cushions, Abby pulls him with her, and together they lose track of time.