Chapter 3

They went to a diner near his home in companionable silence, Abby edging in close to him in the car, her hand resting on his thigh. Though Gibbs' lust continued to burn, he tried his best to ignore it. It would be so damned good when they came together, but he was going to make her wait. He was going to make both of them wait.

As he glided to a stop at a red light, he angled his head, watching her. She'd pulled her hair back into a basic ponytail and it was damp from the shower she'd insisted on. She'd been quick at least, something Gibbs wasn't used to. He had dealt with three hour time frames in order for women in his life to get ready, and he was tired of that.

Abby looked younger and so much more vulnerable without her customary makeup, but Gibbs liked it. Her skin was pale, marked here and there with freckles. It was going to be interesting to play connect the dots later. And with her nudity, he had another piece of the puzzle that was Abby. He'd never seen her in anything but the black hair before, had always known it wasn't her natural color. But seeing those few strands of blonde over her clit had proved it.

"What are you thinking about?" Abby asked softly. Her voice was lower pitched and sultry, her normal behavior dialed down by lack of caffeine and probably lust as well.

"You."

"Me? What about me? Oh, God, you're not going to go all repressed Marine and tell me to forget what just happened, are you? You're Gibbs, you have to be a little bit kinky, especially with what happened last night and..."

Okay, she wasn't as subdued as most people. Gibbs put his hand up, shaking his head. "Shh, Abbs. Too early in the day for Energizer Abby."

She jutted her lower lip out in a pout that Gibbs answered with a smile. "Let me get some coffee in me, Abbs."

"Just coffee?" she asked hopefully as the light turned green and Gibbs drove off.

"Just coffee, Abbs. Not that kinky." He wondered if he'd be enough for her. He wasn't like these suicide people and their piercings and their tattoos all over the place. He was older than her and much more conservative. Her music gave him headaches and he never understood how she dressed like she did and what image she was trying to portray. They were so damned different in every way.

"Plenty kinky for me," she said in a whisper. "Just because I dress like this, that doesn't mean that I'm like this all the time, Gibbs. You know that about me. The nuns, and chess, and..." She trailed off. "I think you know me, Gibbs."

"Do, Abbs," he replied. He wasn't sure how to answer that. They had a lot of exploration to do, a lot to learn about each other, a lot of pre-conceived notions to blast out of the water. Knowing someone at work and even being friends with each other wasn't quite the same as being lovers. "What I don't know, I'm gonna explore. At length."

He felt her body language uncoil and she settled beside him more comfortably, her fingertips trailing over the denim of his jeans in slow patterns. It wasn't designed to stimulate—at least he didn't think so—but it did make him squirm, his thigh muscles tensing and releasing.

"The man always in control isn't so much, is he, Gibbs?" Abby asked. He could feel the smirk on her face even though he couldn't see it and silently vowed to make her pay for that little bit of attitude.

"I haven't come yet, have I, Abbs."

"Not for my lack of trying," she shot back, giggling.

Gibbs parked and got out of the car, jerking his head toward a comfortable diner. It wasn't flashy or trendy, but they had good food and great coffee and that was what he needed now. Gibbs had a feeling he'd be burning off a lot of energy before the morning was over.

"This is so you," Abby observed, taking it in. "You are so not a Silver Diner kind of a guy."

"Silver Diner?" Gibbs asked, confused.

"Bright and shiny place. It's a chain, Gibbs, and they try for the diner experience, but it comes off as contrived. All chromey and reproduction rock and roll stuff. This..." She gestured to the building. "This seems down to earth."

"Wait till you taste their food, Abbs."

The diner had a homey feel and Gibbs enjoyed it there. He'd first started going when he'd joined NCIS in the early nineties. They had the best coffee and knew to make it double strength just for him. As his schedule had increased, he wasn't able to eat there more than a couple of times a week unless they had a hot case. But they remembered and knew him.

"Jethro!"

He grinned as a woman came up, giving him a hug. "Jackie," he greeted one of the owners. With her open and friendly face, and warm demeanor, she was as non-threatening as they came, at least in Gibbs' life.

As expected, she extended a hand to Abby, her expression expectant. She didn't seem at all put off by Abbs' body ink.

"Jackie, this is Abby. She's ... a friend." It was seven am and Jackie could probably connect the dots. Gibbs wasn't going to give her any more ammunition or she'd be hanging around their table for the entire meal.

"Hi, Jackie," Abby greeted, her smile gentle.

"It's lovely to meet one of Jethro's friends, Abby. He's always in here alone." She gave him her admonishing look, one he knew well. She hadn't been a fan of any of the exes and their designer clothes and perfectly styled hair.

"Jackie, we need a quiet booth out of the way." Gibbs gestured toward the most private and unpopulated area of the diner, the end of the L-shaped building.

"Of course, go seat yourselves. I'll send Len by to say hello when he has a free second. We haven't seen you in weeks."

"Been busy," Gibbs allowed, resting a hand low on Abby's back.

"Coffee for you both?" she asked, pulling out a couple of menus and some silverware and napkins.

Gibbs took the menus and silverware from her. "Coffee for me. Caf-Pow for Abby," he said, giving Jackie a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks."

"Wonderful to meet you, Abby. Jethro, seat yourself wherever you'd like."

Gibbs nodded, leading Abby over to a booth in the very corner of the restaurant and nudging her hip so that she would know to sit on the inside. Handing her a menu, he settled back in the booth as if he didn't have a care in the world, reading through the specials flyer that was attached to the menu.

"How can you do that?" Abby asked, a note of wonder in her voice.

"Do what?" Gibbs asked, squinting at the type. He'd forgotten his glasses again and it was hard to focus.

"Look so ... so ... Gibbs!" She let out an annoyed sound, and he smirked at her. Gibbs knew that cool, calm, and collected wasn't what Abby wanted after the passion they'd shared, but she had to learn that this was his public persona, and it had no bearing on his private life.

What was wrong with being him, anyway? She didn't have any complaints last night. He almost answered but instead arched an eyebrow, looking her way. He'd wait her out until she explained what she'd meant by that crack.

"So calm under pressure. So ... like what happened back at the house didn't happen, but I know it did, Gibbs. I'm still shaking from it, even if you're not. I wish I could be like you sometimes, but I'm not. I'm just me, Gibbs."

"No complaints here," he said, his voice low and rough.

"You just seem above it all."

"Guess I do," he agreed. She hadn't even been in combat situations, didn't understand what it was like to rely on that lifeline of mastering your own emotions and controlling and channeling fear. Maybe if she had, she would understand. Or maybe she wouldn't; in the end she was still and always Abbs and her emotions and spirit never played by the rules of society.

"Do you ever really let go?" she whispered. He put a finger up in warning as their coffee and Caf-Pow were brought to the table, as well as an insulated pitcher of coffee for him and an icy one of Caf-Pow for Abbs.

"Thanks, Jackie," Gibbs said, squeezing her hand. When he saw Abby's eyes flash and she emitted a low growl, he had to smile. Abbs was jealous over a married woman Gibbs wasn't attracted to in the least.

"Not my type, Abbs," he assured. It was kind of cute the way she was acting so territorial. He sipped his coffee, watching her over the rim of it, knowing if he waited her out, she'd start talking again, and sooner rather than later.

"You're a flirt. When you're outside work, you are such a flirt and I've even heard how you flirt with some of the suspects. You are so bad that way."

He shrugged. "Not always the way I am at work, Abbs. You know that."

"Seeing is believing," she replied, drinking her soda. "Oh, God, Gibbs. That is almost better than sex."

"Almost?" Gibbs asked with a smirk.

"Well, I haven't had you yet! How do I know?" She gave him a look that was part seductress, part innocent. He wanted to get the better of her—he needed to get the better of her.

"Patience," he retorted, nodding as Jackie rounded the corner and approached.

"Do you know what you're having?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Gibbs replied, hoping Abby would get the message. He glanced at the menu again. "Abbs, what're you eating?"

Gibbs listened as Abby placed her order, glad that she was eating hearty. "What about you, Jethro?"