Chapter 1: Creepy things
A/N Hello everybody!
This will be my first fan fiction ever! I'm so excited! I read so many stories and always wanted to write my own, but there is so little time… :(
I'll try to upload a new chapter at least once a week, though!
I'm Dutch, so I probably will be making a lot of newbie mistakes. Mostly grammar and there are plenty of words I don't know. :$ Yes, I'm a probie: be easy on me please :)
Oh, when I use these: "hello", I mean someone is saying something. Everything Italic is a thought.
I own NCIS just as much as I own a million dollar check. And I'm obviously not a millionaire otherwise I would be sitting on a cruise ship instead of writing this while I actually should do my homework. Sorry for the rambling! Enjoy!
"What are you doing here?" Leroy Jethro Gibbs asked calmly, while pointing the gun at the man's head. The person on the ground looked up and snorted.
"Like I would tell you." He swept a strand of black hair out of his face in an arrogant way and stared at Gibbs with bright green eyes. The NCIS special agent couldn't help but notice that they matched with the shirt the man was wearing. He appeared to be around his mid-twenties and was obviously a foreigner, probably from West-Asia.
Gibbs wondered what kind of person would be so stupid as to break in in hís house. The guy sure didn't fit the profile, though. Too well-dressed for a thief. Too smug for a kid looking for some fun to do just out of boredom. Whatever he was, he was obviously a newbie, considering that Gibbs already heard him before he climbed through the window of his house.
He noticed the lack of fear in the man's eyes and he raised his eyebrows. If the guy was a marine, he'd have respect for that. But the man wasn't a marine, he was a criminal. And he knew how to make a criminal talk.
"You gonna tell me before I shoot your head off or after?" he asked in a gruff voice. God, he hated arrogant people like that. His eyes didn't move an inch from the man's face when he removed the safety catch of his gun with a loud click. The sound resonated in the living room. Good thing no one was home besides himself.
Still no answer. In his eyes, that was suicide. Gibbs shrugged.
"Okay," he stated as a matter-of-fact and aimed very carefully at the man's head. "Bye."
Still the foreigner did not move, and he seriously considered shooting him. But something stopped him. Why wasn't the guy scared to death? Someone pointed a gun at him, but he didn't even flinch. But if this guy was a newbie… that could only mean…
That he wasn't alone.
He couldn't finish that last thought.
With full strength, someone hit his head with a hard object. The gun slipped out of his hands and skidded over the floor. He didn't notice anymore.
"Gibbs! NO!" Abby bolted upright.
Tears where stinging in her eyes and her palms were sweaty. Her whole body was shivering. A blanket barely covered her feet. She looked around, disoriented. The familiar faces in the posters on the wall smiled at her just like they'd done when she'd fallen asleep that evening. Her coffin, the blanket with the skulls on it; everything was just as usual. Scared and confused, Abby knew she was in her bedroom. –Wait, that was a dream? No way! She rubbed the sleep -and hopefully all of the scary images with it- out of her eyes. So it really was a dream, she realized. Thank god. I bet Gibbs is gonna smirk at me when I tell him this. As if he wouldn't hear someone coming from behind him. No way could that happen to my silver-haired fox," she told her favorite voodoo doll that she put on the window sill. She pulled up her blankets and smiled at the pink and black skulls. They always calmed her down… usually. Abby didn't know why she couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong with Gibbs. Her small alarm clock told her that it was just past 3 am. Way too early to call. However, you never knew with the boss-man. He'd told her about the all-nighters he pulled working on his boat. Unlike many people, the bubbly Goth girl understood that. With his job, how else was he supposed to finish the thing?
And besides, there was NO way that she could fall asleep now. She was sliding with her right hand over the floor, trying to find her bat phone. Her hand closed around the small object and she flipped it open. The bright light hurt her eyes for a second, but slowly she could make out the numbers. Abby hit speed dial 1. She put his number on the first speed dial because he told her to, but she would have done it even if he didn't ask. Who else would she call when she found something important; who else would come to her rescue when someone tried to hurt her? Yeah, of course, Tony, Ziva and McGee could do the job, but no one was as scary as the boss-man… Her stomach clenched when she heard the familiar calling tone. Once. Twice. Three times now. Come on, pick up, she fervently thought. This wasn't like Gibbs. This wasn´t like Gibbs at all! The uneasy feeling turned in real-life fear then. Before she knew it, she was out of bed, dressed in a black cardigan and searching for her car keys.
She promised him not to go out on the street alone in the middle in the night.
But she'd broken that promise before. Nothing happened that time.
And this wasn't for a party or something. This was about Gibbs.
She put on her coat and left her apartment. Abby immediately noticed that it was really, really cold. And it rained. Cold, wet drops fell on her face and she shivered. Good thing she dressed up warmly.
It wasn't a very long drive to Gibbs' house. Plus, there wasn't any traffic at all. The streets were deserted and gave off a dark and creepy vibe. Usually she'd like that. Now, not so much. When she arrived at the familiar house, she couldn't get out of her car sooner. There was no light shining from his basement or from anywhere else in the house. She wanted to press the button, but something stopped her. In a flash she knew it.
She was in a lot of trouble.