Title: A Kiss: That's All It Was? Part Three
Genre: NCIS – Romance
Pairing: Abby and Gibbs
Rating: M – don't look so surprised.
Timeline: None, current, whenever… It's one of those.
Spoilers: None.
Summery: Taking the plunge.
Disclaimer: It's nice borrowing someone else's toys – I'll return them, very relaxed, I promise.
A/N: Missy needed a mindset change from her then workload… AKA her excuse for mindless smut.
Written: December 2012
Edited: February 2013
Language: UK/International/Commonwealth English.
Word Count: 3,791

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Abby irritably paced her apartment, her gaze momentarily landing on the overnight bag she had earlier placed at the door. She clenched and unclenched her hands before resuming her pacing.

Gibbs had said that she should meet him at his place: because there were some minor things he needed to see to before he could head home, and he had not wanted to keep her at the yard until he was done. However, her doubts about the aptness of what they were entering into were starting to get the better of her. There would be no going back after tonight: it would change everything between them, and she feared that it might not be for the better. It was her fear of the unknown and the possible consequences that kept her there, pacing, mulling, stressing. She has never before stood on the threshold of having something she so greatly desired, yet came at such a high price. And no matter which decision she made, it would inexorably change them and their relationship. She knew that he would view her withdrawal as rejection, and yet she could never reject him. She has for so many years yearned to be with him, to really get to know him, yet she seemed unable to take that final plunge…

Earlier, she had told him that she had needed to go home first to pick up some stuff, it had not been overly late when she had left the yard, it had actually been earlier than most evenings… However, after arriving home, her concerns regarding her ability to pleasure him in bed had started to surface. She had hesitantly packed a bag as her doubts about them festered.

She was not new to it, however her obsession with her work, and giving him the required results, had in recent years infringed on her time, and had left very little to pursue relationships. Besides, the guys that she had chosen in the past had all ended up being freaks.

She wanted it to be right, perfect… she wanted to be everything he needed, everything he craved, desired. The fact that he has already had four wives weighed heavily on her nerves: he was experienced, would have his preferences…. what if she did not measure up? Or did not like the same things? She knew why his marriages had failed, he had been distance, even uninterested at some stages, but that still did not take the pressure off her. If anything, it increased it.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, with every passing moment questioning their motivation. The affection he bestowed her was confusing, and his kisses – well the last few – made it even more difficult to validate halting things. There had been so much passion in them, such promise. But with passion comes the inevitable risk of being burnt, even consumed, and she was not certain if she would come out the other side unscathed.

That is what made her question the wisdom in giving up what they already share: with the hope of having something more. Especially since she did not want to lose what they had. She did not want things to be awkward between them. Yet, she only had to reminisce as to what it had felt like to wake up in his arms. How right it had felt. How easy things had turned heated between them, and how her body had instantaneously responded to his touch.

But what if it did not work out? What if it did not amount to what either of them expected of it? One could not go back once the line had been crossed. It was not like things with McGee: it was already enough that she at times had to be careful about what she said around him. Yes, it had become easier with the passage of time, but they would never share the same type of relationship she shared with Tony.

Her and Gibbs had shared so many things in the past, things had always been so simple… yet things had already changed.

No matter which way they went, things would never return to the way they were, they had already gone too far for that. The point of no return had long since been breached. And if she did not show up at his place, he would take it as rejection. Yet there was no way to ensure that she would emerge the following morning with her heart still intact, for if there was one thing Gibbs would be able to do, it was trounce on her heart.

Her head and her heart remained at war as she once again paced her apartment. Her gaze again landed on the overnight bag situated next to the door. It held everything she would need to spend the night at his place, and she really wanted to, yet could not get herself as far as walking out the door.

She had showered, even shaved her legs and a few other places in anticipation, not certain what he had planned, but wanted to be prepared. She released a heavy sigh, closing her eyes in hope of drawing some inner strength, anything that would help see her through the situation.

She found herself drawn to the door, to the bag waiting there for her… She did not want to let the opportunity slip her by. The thought of spending the rest of her life thinking: what if? Did not appeal to her. She had already spent too much time contemplating that. She was going to put that ghost to rest, and if it all came apart in the end… she would deal with it in the morning.

Just as she picked up her bag a knock sounded at the door, and she had to fight down her frustration. She did not feel up to dealing with any of her neighbour's queries. However, pasted a smile on her face as she swung open the door, intent on making it clear to whoever was on the other side that she was on her way out: then halted in her tracks, for a moment stunned when she saw Gibbs standing there.

He cocked his head slightly, and then indicated for her to hand him her bag, which she did, before he stepped back to allow her to exit.

Her heart raced in her chest, the thought that he had come looking for her sent a wave of tingles across her body. The memories of his touch, his desire filled tone that morning, and again at the lab, caused her body to hum in response. She turned to lock her door then followed him down the passage, clasping her hands as they walked. Even with the ends justifying the means, it did not relieve the strain or the doubts she harboured.

Gibbs was his quiet self as he opened the door to his truck, first stashing her bag before holding it open for her. She contemplated taking her own car, but then looked at him and realized that he was in all likelihood suffering the same disquiet she was: not that he had anything to worry about, he simply had to wrap his arms around her and she would be content for the evening.

She settled in the seat, and watched as he moved around the cab before getting in on the driver's side. He glanced at her for a moment, and she could have sworn he wanted to say something but then tuned his attention from her and stated the truck.

They drove in silence, the air between them heavy. She chanced a glance at him, noticing the whites of his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel, and swallowed at the lump that had started to form in her throat. Usually, she would have nattered away for the duration of their trip, yet found herself incapable of selecting a topic that did not in some way relate to their situation. Therefore, once again, found herself questioning their situation.

They arrived at his home, and he indicated for her to go on ahead, and he gathered up her bag before locking the truck. She glanced about her as she nervously approached the door, even the night before she had not felt as emotionally wrung as she did then. She has never felt nervous or uncomfortable in his home, for it was understated, it invited one to be whom you were, much like the man who owned it. She stepped in his foyer, and then turned towards him as he came up behind her.

He placed her bag on the floor and for a moment looked at her, before tilting his head slightly.

'Dinner Abbs?' he calmly asked. She nodded her head in reply, and was about to turn from him when he reached for her, murmuring, 'Abbs, when you're ready.'

She looked at him, and nodded her head in understanding.

He handed her his phone, instructing, 'Order us something.' Then picked up her bag and disappeared upstairs.

She glanced after him for a moment, then back at the phone, uncertain what to make of things: yet relieved that he seemed willing to ease into it, to give them time to find their feet so to speak.

They shared a quiet dinner. The magnitude of their situation weighed heavily on both of them, and saw neither of them eat much. Together they cleared up the containers, packing them away in the fridge before settling together on the couch to watch a movie. Abby rested her head on his shoulder as his fingers traced patterns along her upper arm.

Her body started to shut down: worn after the day's constant state of awareness. It grew heavy, his presence has always had a soothing effect of her, and watching movies at his house had always calmed her in the past. It was not long after that he turned off the TV, and proclaimed, 'Bed time, Abbs.'

Her heart immediately started racing, her body stiffened in response. She had no idea what to make of his behaviour, what he would expect of her – if anything. It seemed a little too domestic, and yet not enough, there was an underlying tension in him, that she could just not place.

'Go, I'll be up,' he said indicating towards the stairs.

Abby rose from the couch and calmly made her way there, her body became more agitated the closer she came to his bedroom. She stood on the threshold and turned on the light, then looked about the room. It was no different than it had been the night before, yet it felt different, foreign even.

She reached for her bag: extracting the lingerie she had packed, and looked at it before placing it back. Instead, she selected one of his t-shirts she had previously nabbed. She was uncertain of his mood, uncertain of everything. So she stripped off her clothes, leaving only the lace panties, before slipping thee t-shirt over her head and turning towards the bed. She switched on the bedside light, and pulled back the sheets, before sitting on the bed.

He appeared a short while later, and turned off the overhead light before moving to his side of the bed, and started shrugging his clothes. When he got down to his boxers and shirt, he slipped into bed with her and indicated for her to turn so that he could spoon behind her.

She reached for the light and finally settled with him behind her. Her heart felt heavy, because even though it was more than she had ever really hoped for, it was far less than she wanted.

She shifted slightly before murmuring, 'Gibbs?'

'When you're ready, Abbs. Now sleep.'

Abby once again settled, closing her eyes and calmly controlled her breathing: it was something she often did when trying to fall asleep, however her body remained in a constant state of awareness, her entire back tingling where it came into contact with his front.

It was some time later, when he pulled from her and turned the other way. His movements felt more pronounced than they really were. She had enjoyed the closeness, the shared warmth, and his change of position sent a chill up her spine. It left her feeling cold, alone and irritated.

They lay like that for some time, before Gibbs once again moved: this time slipping out of bed. Abby turned to look in his direction, but could not make out anything in the dark, and reached to turn on the bedside lamp.

He had his denims in hand when the pale glow of the light suddenly illuminated the room.

'Gibbs?' Abby questioned, her voice sounded small, uncertain even.

'Sleep, Abbs.' He said turning away from her, shrugging his pants to put them on again.

'Where are you going?' she asked sitting up, not liking what he was doing.

'I'll take the couch,' he decreed, turning his head to look at her.

At his words Abby tossed the sheets aside, declaring, 'You can't do that, if anyone should leave it should be me.' Her heart was pounding in her throat as she looked at him, uncertain of what they should do.

'Ain't gonna sleep here, Abbs,' he forlornly replied.

For a moment, she thought she had imagined it, and felt her heart drop to her feet. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders following the movement. His behaviour left her reeling, the sting of rejection fierce, and she found herself swallowing at the lump in the throat, before mumbling, 'This was a stupid idea, I should go home.'

She moved towards her bag, and was about to reach for it when his hand closed around her one arm, pulling her back towards him. She lifted her head to look at him when he firmly decreed, 'No.'

'This is not gonna work, Gibbs. We can't even sleep in the same bed.'

Gibbs cocked his head, and then shook it, murmuring, 'That's not it, Abbs.'

'Then why are you leaving, if you cannot sleep with me?'

He sighed audibly, and tugged her closer to him, turning so their fronts aligned. She saw his eyes darken, moments before he pressed their lower bodies together, his arousal obvious against her lower abdomen.

'Can't lie here and not touch ya, Abbs,' he low growled, his hand finding her neck pulling her closer before he claimed her lips. His other arm slipped round her holding her tightly against him.

They were both panting when he pulled back from their kiss. His forehead rested against hers, his hips nudged against her whilst his eyes held hers. The sudden discharge of passion sent her heart racing, blood coursed through her veins, flushing her skin, causing her body to melt into his.

'Abbs,' he moaned, before again taking her lips. This time unleashing more passion that she was certain she could handle.

'Need you,' he grunted as he placed kisses along her neck, his hands moving over her back mounding her to him. Her head fell back in response. A moan slipped from her lips as he nibbled on the skin behind to her ear.

His body stiffened as he pulled back from her. Then drew in a deep breath as his hands reached for her shoulders, pushing her from him slightly.

'Why'd you stop?' She croaked out. A tightening sensation settled around her chest.

He lifted his hands from her shoulders, and clasped them into tight fists. Then shook his head, before turning from her.

Abby reached for his arm, 'Don't go.'

He halted at her touch, looking at the ground before murmuring, 'Can't stay.'

'But I want you to,' Abby said stepping closer to him. He turned towards her.

His hands landed on her hips holding them away from him, as he replied, 'Don't do passive, Abbs.'

'I'm not asking you to.' Abby whispered against his lips, the gaze for dropping to them for a moment, before lifting to join his again.

He looked at her, intently, for a moment, before pulling her against him. His lips claimed hers, the same time his hands pressed against her back, pulling her closer to him.

His hands worked up the t-shirt, breaking his kiss only long enough to tug it over her head. Heat coursed through her body, setting it alight until it tingled in anticipation. The sensations intensified with ever touch every brush of his hands as he kissed his way down her neck, her chest, nipping at the swell of her breasts.

Blood pounded in her ears as she instinctively threaded her fingers through his silver hair, to keep it in place. Her back basculed when his tongue traced her one nipple. His lips settled round it, tugging it into his mouth, groaning as he sucked harder. His attentions sent pulses down to her core, which soon rendered her legs jelly.

He moved, swinging her up into his arms, before laying her on the bed. He stared down at her for a moment before tugging at his own clothes. His eyes were dark with desire as he moved to join her. His hands moved over her, his lips brushed the skin of her abdomen, and his hands cupped her breasts. It all seemed to happen at once, and then not quick enough. It was too much and then not enough, as his hands ghosted over her body, setting it alight. It rose to meet his touch, until she was quivering with desire. His conscious mind lost in a haze of heady sensation. By the time he moved over her to join them, she was weak with need, her body yearning for his.

She moaned her approval when he pushed into her, her fingers gripping his hips as he settled deep within her.

She felt full, overflowing: yet it was not enough, and moved against him. Her core muscles closed around him, drawing a hiss from him. His body bucked against hers in response, and his hands when down to her thighs, pulling at them.

'Higher, Abbs,' he grunted against her lips as his hips jolted against hers again, 'not deep enough.'

She pulled up her legs, moaning at every lunge he made. His manhood stroked her, seeming to swell more with every stroke it made. Her hands gripped at his shoulders, grunting for more but not certain if she could handle it.

He reached for her hands, firmly taking hold of them before moving them up to pin them next to her head. Then pushed himself up, angling himself to look down at her. His hips propelled faster, thrusting into her. Their bodies slapped together, noisily, as he grunted, 'Need to fuck, Abbs.'

His words jolted her back from her pleasure-induced stupor: their harsh, foreignness felt wrong. She focused on his face, saw his need, his craving. The way his head fell back as he plunged into her, the hissing as he hit full depth and then drew out again.

She recognized his desire, and his inability to control it. He was in essence a marine returning home from deployment, loosing himself in the woman he loved, seeing to a physical need that had long been deprived him. There would be a time for slow and sensual, but his need was greater than his restraint, and she welcomed it.

'Fuck me, Gibbs,' she gasped as he thrust into her again.

Her words drew a moan from him, which sounded almost painful, and then his body moved, his hips rolling against her: changing the motion catching her unawares.

Their bodies connected hard, and his hands gripped hers tighter as the slapping sounds escalated. The air surrounding them turned musky and hot between as he lost himself, in her and the moment.

He rode her harder than any man had ever dared, and she loved it, wanted more of it. Her body stiffened, tightened under his. She felt him falter; his movements grew more jerk-like, as her own body closed round his. Her head pushed back and her body bowed in pleasure, pulses coursing over it. She called to him; wanting him know what he was doing to her.

His body stiffened over hers, pinning her down, as he bellowed his release. His body shuddered against hers, jolting as it propelled his essence deep into her.

He lowered himself onto her, his head pressing against her shoulder as he gasped for air. His sweat slicked body pressed onto hers as he released her hands, bracing himself on his elbows. She wrapped her arms around him holding onto him as she too tried to regain her breath, her hands tracing the line along his spine, whilst their bodies remained intimately joined.

'Welcome home, Marine,' she finally whispered, once she had regained her breath.

'Oh God, Abbs,' he moaned against her shoulder, 'trust you to understand.'

His arms slipped around her, and with one swift movement, he turned them. Their bodies breaking their connection as he settled on his back with her partly over him. His arms held her in place, as their legs intertwined. Neither said anything for a long while, simply basing in the afterglow.

Abby moved, and his arms instinctively tightened around her.

'Bathroom,' she whispered, and he let her slip from his embrace. Suddenly sitting up as she softly grunted. The pleasurable ache between her legs more prominent when she tried to move.

'You okay, Abbs?' his voice was stressed concerned.

She turned her head and smiled at him, and replied 'It's a good ache.'

She moved to the door then looked back at him, goading, 'Wanna share the shower?'

He looked at her, and then smiled, on of his rare full smiles, already moving from the bed, replying, 'only if I get to wash you.'

'Works for me she,' she flippantly replied before turning from him.

His body pressed up against hers, his hands gently tracing over her: the gentleness of his attentions contrary to his earlier lovemaking. He kissed her forehead and soothed his hands over her back. Her hands brushed over his body, in an effort to rise off the spuds.

His arms suddenly closed around her, pulling her towards him and holding her in place, murmuring, 'I can't go again as quickly.'

'Don't need you to,' Abby replied resting her head against his shoulder. Pulling her hands from his front, to wrap round him.

'You sure about that, Abbs?' he gruffly asked.

His words had her pull back to look at him, her eyes suddenly bulging, 'That's what held you back, why you wouldn't!"

Gibbs pulled her closer tucking her head under his chin, 'You're young Abbs, you'll get bored with me.'

'Never, you're my Marine, always have been.'

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Thanks for reading.