Title: If Only Chapter 4
Genre: NCIS – Romance/Angst
Pairing: Abby and Gibbs
Timeline: None, current, whenever… It's one of those.
Spoilers: there may be some...
Summery: He needed to make sure she was okay with the news, that she would not do anything foolish.
Disclaimer: It's nice borrowing someone else's toys – I'll return them, very relaxed, I promise.
A/N: Hmm, things get interesting….
Written: December 2012.
Language: UK English – spelling and grammar
Word Count: 2,995
Lyrics (at the end): 7th Heaven by the Coleske Brothers – although they've gone Afrikaans, suddenly.
Gibbs purposely strode down the hallway, his steps faltering slightly as he approached her door. Dammit DiNozzo, he thought as he halted at her door, for a moment contemplating turning around and returning home. He knew it was none of his business, but he could not help it, his interest in her happiness and welfare far exceeded the acceptable parameters of co-workers, it always has. Even so, he knew that if he turned back, he would only return home to pace his basement in agitation. He was too wound up for sleep. That was how he found himself there in the first place.
He had showered and gotten ready for bed, then had settled on his couch intent on catching at least a few hours of sleep… However, his mind kept on churning around the earlier events of the day, and how they affected her. He had checked his phone, regularly, just in case she phoned him, needing an ear, but she had not, and he was not certain if she was okay, he knew he was not… why did they have to do it that way?
Earlier, much earlier, Tony had called everyone together, and from his behaviour Gibbs knew that something was up, although he already had a good idea of the possible reason why they were all summonsed.
He had watched as Abby took up her usual place between his and McGee's desks, with all of them patiently waiting for Tony to make his announcement: never before has words hit him as hard as they had when Tony informed everyone that he and Ziva were engaged. His gaze had immediately shifted to Abby: who had been her cheerful self, bouncing to hug both them in jubilation. Her behaviour had almost been indicative that they had possibly forewarned her of the news, because he could not distinguish any torment or anguish from her. He had noticed her glance in his direction, almost as thought she had thought he would object – possibly hoping for it? However, the selfish, possessive side of him would not allow for it. Tony's news, and his relationship with Ziva, firmly took the man out of contention for Abby's attentions. So, he had congratulated them, not that he had been surprised as he had for weeks already suspected something between the two of them: he just had not realized that things had moved that quickly. But then, he also understood it: when it's the right woman you just leap, you don't give her the opportunity to get away… unless she is younger than you, and capable of crushing you with a word, and her personality and friendship makes it very difficult to push for more – because you cannot afford to damage or possibly loose it.
He stood staring at her door. The absence of her call had finally driven him to her door. He was going to check up on her as he had planned to, and if she was okay, he would return home to the comfort of his couch.
He lifted his hand and knocked, only belatedly realizing that he had to ring the bell. He checked his watch, noting it was just past midnight: thinking she would either be home, sleeping, or out partying it off – in an attempt to forget. His heart quickened at the realization that she also could have gone to his house in the mean time, and he was not there: she had come to him in the past with her relationship troubles, therefore it was somehow to be expected that she would come to him with this… wasn't it?
When she opened the door, his heart dropped to his shoes at the sight of her. His hands clenched into fists as he took in her appearance: her ruffled hair and slightly flushed skin were indicative enough that she had found her own way of coping with the situation. A way that drove a knife straight through his heart, as he registered the scent of her arousal: it called to him. He could feel the frown form on his forehead as he tried to regain his equilibrium. The fact that she had found someone else to help her cope with it, in such a way, cut him deeper than it should have, because she was not his, and he had no claim to her.
'Gibbs?' she huskily asked, her voice thick, sleepy. It held a tone of disbelief. Her head tilted slightly, before her mind kicked into gear. 'Oh God! My phone. Where did I put it?' she said turning to look towards her lounge, before hastily adding, 'I'm so sorry, Gibbs. I know I should always be reachable. Give me a minute and I'll be ready to go,' she replied before turning, from him leaving the door open so he could enter.
Gibbs stepped into her apartment, glancing about, before asking the most prominent question on his mind, 'Ya alone, Abbs?'
'Yeah,' she replied nodding her head slightly as she continued to move along the short passage.
Her reply did little to quell his discord, because all to quickly the reason behind her appearance became obvious, and the thought that she could be dreaming of DiNozzo, when the man was enamoured with his partner, did not sit well with him.
Gibbs closed the door behind him, and followed her down the short passage.
'So what have we got? A dead sailor? Marine?' Abby called from her room, the shuffling sounds indicative that she was moving about within it.
Her question halted him for a moment, and it irked him that she thought that was the only reason he would be there. He continued along the corridor and noticed the light on in the spare bedroom, and chanced a glance inside, noting the rumpled sheets and asking 'You sleeping in your spare room?' before he had time to halt the thought.
'Darn! I left them in the dryer,' Abby pronounced, before appearing in her bedroom doorway, answering, 'Yeah, I tend to toss quite a bit some nights, and I was banging the sides of my coffin and getting bruised,' as she moved past him.
He watched her pass, perplexed by the sincerity of her answer, and waited for her to return, with a pair of stripy socks in her hands.
'Abby, wait!' he said reaching for her arm as she moved past him.
'What, I need to get ready, Gibbs,' she replied the momentum turning her towards him.
He gripped her by the shoulders, before shaking his head, affirming, 'No ya don't.'
'But you're here,' she started, before adding, 'So we've got a case.'
Gibbs only shook his head.
Her brow furrowed and her head tilted slightly, before asking, 'Then why are you here?' her voice conveying her confusion.
Gibbs looked at her, and her lips parted slightly under his gaze. The action was invitation enough as he reached to cup her face, professing huskily, 'to make you forget,' before drawing her closer: his lips for the first time making contact with hers, sending tingles across his body as he pulled her closer.
He had not thought anything through. Not how she would react to his kiss, or the sudden invasion of her privacy, or the fact that he had no intention of stopping once he had started. She opened for him, with minimal coaxing, and within a heartbeat, what had been meant as an explorative kiss on the lips morphed into an all out feeding frenzy.
His other arm slinked round her, pulling her closer, as his one hand moved to the back of her head, holding her in place as he explored her mouth. He knew that he should pull back, that he should stop it whilst he still had some semblance of control over his actions. He had only wanted her to know that there were other men who desire her, but he couldn't stop, his body would not stop, would not heed the warnings his brain kept sending.
For so long already he has longed to know her passion, wanted to be in the position where he could bask in it. He nipped at her lips when his need for oxygen became too great, working his way along her jaw and neck. He expected her to push him away, to stop him, but instead her head fell back offering him unrestricted access to her neck as her fingers treaded through his hair, holding him to her, encouraging more. A low moan escaped her lips, sending tremors right through his body. His hands started roaming, brushing over her body, moulding her to him, like he has wanted to for so long already.
Her body pushed against his as he brushed kisses down her neck. He felt the low moan she uttered under his lips, her trembling spurring him on as he lost all means of rational thought. His hands started tugging at her pyjamas, pulling and tugging them out of the way, wanting unrestricted access to her skin.
His fingers caressed the soft skin of her back as he worked the top up, not having the patience to bother with undoing the buttons. Her instinctively started tugging at his clothes in response, grunting in frustration when they defied her.
He pulled her into the room with him, no longer thinking of consequences or that he could be serving as a replacement. The only thing that mattered was that it was her, and she was responding to him in the way he has always wanted her to. He tugged at his own clothes, pulling them from his body as his lips continued to worship hers. He will give her what she dreams of: the words in her journal were still deeply imprinted on his mind. All he had wanted was an opportunity, a chance to show her that he could be that for her, and he was not going to back off, The only thing preventing it was his clothes, which suddenly seemed to small as he tried to shrug out of them. He finally managed to shed most of them, her hands brushing over his chest and the dusting of hair there. He grunted in frustration when he had to let-up for a moment, to rid himself of his shoes. He kicked of his jeans and boxers at the same moment, before guiding her down onto the bed, and had barely settled on it when she gripped him, and pulled him over her… He wanted to explore, but her frustrated moan had him comply, as he checked her. Her hips bucked up to meet his hand, grinding, seeking more.
There was nothing that could have stopped him then, he moved, lined them up and pushed forward… growling possessively as her warmth surrounded him. Her legs pulled up next to him the deeper he went, a low moan escaping her lips as he came to rest inside her depths. He instinctively thrust against her to get deeper still, his body responding to her unspoken demands. Grunting as he tried to get further up her, because there just seemed no way he would ever get deep enough into her, that it would even be enough to convey how badly he has wanted this with her. He jerked against her, hard. His hips jolted against hers, drawing a guttural grunt from her. Her hands reached down to his hips, gripping them, pulling them to her as her hips pushed up to meet his.
'More, Gibbs,' she moaned as he rocked against her.
'I'm trying, Abbs,' he grunted into her neck, the sensations overwhelming. His need to mate, to imprint on her that she was his, that he was going to make her scream his name in pleasure, that there would be no other after this, took hold. He started rolling his hips, grunting as he pushed fully into her, eliciting countering grunts from her. His body instantly adjusted, determined to drive more of them out of her, to have her cling to him in need. He would show her there are others who would be happy to love her, wanted to love her, that all she had to do was give him the chance to.
A high-pitched wail escaped her, jolting him back slightly, thinking he had hurt her. He pulled back slightly, only to see her eyes roll back, her chest lifting up, pushing against his as her head pushed back. Her lips parted, gasping, grunting as her body gripped him, tightly, causing him to hiss in response. He watched her go over, his body automatically pushing against her pulses. His heart swelled when she voiced her pleasure, his chest swelling with pride that he could do that to her.
Her body slacked, dropping to the mattress, totally lax. And he stopped moving, content to simply look at her in her post-coital bliss. A lazy, content smile crossed her face, and her eyes fluttered open. Their dreamy expression filled him with a sense of achievement he never thought he would experience again. The next moment, a frown creased her forehead, as she huskily, unbelievably, spoke up, 'You're still here.'
'Not planin' on goin' anywhere, Abbs,' he replied, brushing the strands of dark hair from her face, adding, 'I ain't done yet, either.' as he pushed his hips into her. The action alerting her to the fact that he was still fully aroused.
'Encore,' she gasped in response.
'Ugh-uh,' he grunted as he slowly rocked against her, her arms coming round him as his forehead came to rest against hers.
'So long,' he gasped, 'So long I've wanted this,' he grunted as he started thrusting stronger into her, 'God you feel good. Shouldn't have waited. Should've taken sooner.'
He again started bucking against her, gasping, 'Need more, Abbs, need to…' he moaned as his body started picking up pace.
'Take, Gibbs,' she hummed in response, her hands already gripping his hips, her legs wrapping around him as he jolted against her, grunting in effort.
'Wanna cum,' he gasped.
'Cum, Gibbs, let go,' Abby grunted in return.
'Inside,' he grunted.
'Cum,' Abby gasped, gripping his buttocks more, adding 'want it.'
His head dropped to next to hers as he grunted with every stroke, his body already tingling, his pace relentless but he held on, finally pushing up onto his arms. Her hands gripped his hips in response to his sudden action, gasping, 'No, want it,' pushing her hips up to meet his in response.
'Gonna, give it to you, Abbs,' he grunted and his body started jerking, jolting against hers.
'Now, Gibbs, please!'
He slammed down, hard. His head pulling back as he grunted, 'Abbs,' hissing, 'It's yours!' His back suddenly basculing in his attempt to get deeper still, his body bucking against hers in time with the pulses.
The last pulse had not even rocked through him, when his arms started trembling. His body lowered onto hers, right into her embrace, as he kissed along her neck. His hand reaching down to her hip, holding onto it, ensuring their connection remained, whilst he regained his breath.
There weren't words enough to express the feelings that filled him, only that he needed some time to process them.
He pulled her with him, wrapping his arms around her as he settled on his back. Content to just hold her and bask in the afterglow of the experience. His eyes drifting shut in bliss, as his breathing settled.
The silence between them became laden as their bodies cooled. There were so many things he knew needed addressing, which was also why he knew his actions had been, heedless, imprudent even, and that he had in all likelihood taken advantage of the situation…but he did not feel sorry, could not regret it, not even for a moment. There was no way he could ever put to words what he had just experienced, what the sight of her under him, like that, did to him. He was already contemplating how he could make it happen again.
Abby moved, and his arm instinctively tightened around her, not wanting her to go.
'Bathroom,' she murmured, and he reluctantly released her, vowing that they would sort it out on her return, that he would make it clear that from his side it was not just a once off. However, when she did not return from the bathroom, he got concerned and started doubting if it had been such a good idea. He could smell coffee, why was she making coffee? Unless she expected him to get dressed and leave, but he did not want to leave. He got up out of bed and searched the floor for his boxers, pulling them on before going in search of her.
He found her in her kitchen, dressed in her black silk gown, staring at the cups in front of her. For all looking like she was in shock, her body ridged. He moved up behind him, the smell of her, of their loving, intoxicating. His arms went round her waist as he nuzzled her neck, before gently murmuring, 'Leave the coffee.'
She jolted slightly, before answering, 'But… I thought … you like coffee.'
He pulled her closer, before huskily whispering, 'I'd like it more if you to came back to bed.'
'You don't want coffee?' she asked, confused, her shoulders sagging slightly.
'Later, it's only gonna keep you up. Come back to bed, you need your sleep,' he replied, drawing her with him.
Abby allowed him to lead her back to bed, watching as he turned out the lights, before murmuring, 'you're staying?'
'Not going anywhere, Abbs,' he huskily replied, pulling her closer, 'Don't want to.'
He felt her whole body sag against him at that, and guided her to the bed. Smiling slightly as her face flushed slightly at the sheets' disarray, and tucked her between them.
He settled behind her, and she reached to turn out the light before settling into his embrace. His hand drew patterns along her arm, before moving around her, pulling her firmly against him, his lips caressing her shoulder, murmuring, 'Sleep, Abbs.'
"Gee my al jou drome, want jy weet ek sal did veilig hou,
Vergeet van alles wat you pla, hierdie hande sal jou dra."
7de Hemel deur die Coleske Broers
And for those of you who don't understand Afrikaans, the context translation,
Give me all your dreams, because you know I will keep them safe,
Forget all your troubles, these hands will carry you.
The words are very appropriate for these two