Tech Support

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, the characters, the props. I own nothing. I’d like to own Mark Harmon.

Author’s note: got2bekiddin gets virtual cookies for even attempting to pronounce Sphenopalatine ganglioneuralgia.

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She pushed it with a finger. It clicked a bit and swayed. And glowed red. It was a bit disturbing in all honesty.

-Hey, Abby. Were the glowing skull ornaments necessary on that sign of yours? I think your point is getting across well. No need for decorations, yes? – Ziva asked while experimentally poking another of the glowing skulls.

-The skulls are vital, Ziva! Ever heard of a little thing called psychological warfare? Well, this will make any enemies fear me more!

-But, Abby, you do not have enemies.

-Lies! All lies! – Abby wailed, her hands in the air.

-Alright, alright... But this sign is intended for a specific person, is it not?

-I have no idea what you are referring to!

-Abby, how many gunnery sergeants come to your lab? Whom you would wish to keep out?

-Just one. – she answered, pouting.

-And do you really think these... things... will frighten him away if he really wants to come into your lab.

-They might.

-Tell me, Abby. What has Gibbs done to deserve seven exclamation marks and glowing toy skulls?

Gibbs wondered the same thing. He stood in the doorway, beside the offending sign. He had thought the sign would be down by now, his Abby back to her old happy, overexcited self. She never stayed angry for long. She could barely make it through more than 5 hours of being mad at somebody. So when Ziva asked why Abby's handiwork was still on displayed, Gibbs moved to the side of the door, listening in and not planning to get caught.

-He yelled at me, Ziva.

-He yells at everybody.

-He never yells at me. He's nice to me. Perhaps a bit pushy sometimes. But he's generally nice. And he brings me CafPow!s. He never brings them anymore. And he's dating somebody. I don't know who it is, but she's obviously a bad influence on him, if he's started yelling at me.

Gibbs looked at the big cup of CafPow! he was holding. It seemed a small gesture. Abby was really upset. And of course everybody would be on her side. Because everybody knows he's a selfish bastard.

He placed the CafPow! on the floor and walked off to the stairs.

-It's silly, really. But he's my friend. And we argue from time to time. But... Oh, just forget it. I am not forgiving him and that's that. Not unless he apologizes!

-Abby, you know that will never happen. – Ziva stated, while getting up. Then a smile could be heard in her voice. – It seems you have had a delivery. Mr CafPow! I presume.

Quick as lightning, Abby stood in front of the gigantic cup on the floor.

-No! If he thinks he's getting off that easily, he's got another thing coming.

She looked determined but that look faltered, replaced by longing. She reached out one hand toward the cup:

-Oh, baby, how I miss you. The mean people are renovating the shop. Mommy can't buy you. And that evil manipulator leaves you here... alone... maybe just one sip.... couldn't hur....NO! I will not be bought off! – she yelled, shaking her fist at the ceiling for dramatic effect. – Ziva, take this... this... FILTHY BRIBE... away from me and throw it at Gibbs!

Up until that moment Ziva had been rather amused by Abby's antics, but she could not comply.

-Abby, you know I can't do that.

Abby's shoulders slumped.

-I know, Ziva, I know. I'm sorry. Just... Take it away, please. I don't have that much willpower.

-Abby... Are you sure this is about yelling?

-Of course! What else could it be about?

-Nothing. I was just asking. I will take your drink away.

-Thanks, Ziva. The results of that swab should be done in about two hours. Come back then, ok?

It felt so empty in the lab. No Ziva, no McGee, no CafPow!... No Gibbs.

Sure she had seen McGee in her house last night and this morning when she was leaving for work. Timmy wasn't much company anymore. He played his games online, or worked on the second coming, also known as the sequel to his novel. But no Gibbs... It was strange. The past week or so had been strange. With the fingers and the twisting and the whispering. It made her think things she shouldn't. Not about Gibbs, in any case. About the night she spent ruining his boat and draining his bourbon supply and waking up in his bed, finding him on the couch. The smell of his sheets. The slight twinge that passed through her now when she thought about how she woke up dressed from head to toe. She shouldn't think like this. Not about Gibbs. But she wouldn't forgive him so easily. So Abby did the only thing she could to drag her mind away from the gunny. She went back to work

Gunpowder. And heavy beats. Leather. Black. Skin. White. Caffeine. Ab...

-Gibbs? Gibbs? You still with me?

-Hol, I'm sorry. This case's bugging me. Can't get it out of my head.

-It's alright. I know how the job can be sometimes. Tell me what you're thinking about.

-You know I can't do that. – And thank god for red tape for once, he finished the sentence in his head.

-Well... I think.... – she said, smiling and running a finger across his palm, – I think I could do something to... Distract you...

And as Hollis Mann lay in his bed that night, trying her best to, as she said, distract him, while he inhaled the smell of her hair... gunpowder.... ran his fingers up her legs.... black leather boots.... and up her back.... soft white skin.... there was just one thought he couldn't be distracted from.... Abby.
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TBC yet again

Now, please, somebody: do we have a plan how to off Mann? That actually kinda rhymes :D