Chapter 15

Martin looked up as Gibbs and Abby came inside, both of them looking strained and tense. "Everything okay?" he asked Gibbs in an undertone as he helped with the food.

"Yeah ... fine. Are just the five of us meeting?"

"And Franks."

Gibbs winced, nodding. "You're not going to get him to go easy on me."

Martin rolled his eyes. "I'm aware, Jethro ... I'm aware." He started unloading the large catering portions with Gibbs, working quietly side by side with his friend. "You coming down or still keyed up?" The question was rote; he could see Jethro was almost vibrating with nervous energy so different from the calm, cool, collected way when he usually was under fire or pressure.

"Working on it," Gibbs allowed, moving back to his seat and watching Abby. Martin turned to watch her as well, knowing she was an enigma.

As the guys set the food on the table, Abby started flitting around, opening containers, setting out plates and plastic silverware. Once she had everything set up, she wiped her hands together and said, "We're ready."

Gesturing to the FBI agents, she said, "Guests first."

"Toby, get off the phone and start eating." Gibbs growled good-naturedly. He scooped up some salami and olives, lasagna, and a little fettuccine alfredo. Unable to resist the sweets, he put a large portion of tiramisu and two cannolis to the side. Seeing that the coffee was finished, Gibbs went over and poured himself a cup, wishing he had his thirty-two ounce mug nearby.

He nodded to Abby. "Your turn."

Smiling at his healthy appetite, Abby moved after Jet to pick out her food. With so many delicious choices, she decided to just grab a little of almost everything. She only wished she'd remembered to grab her Caf-Pow on the way up. Setting down her plate next to his, she pulled her chair a little closer to Jet as she sat down, hoping it didn't look too obvious.

He rested his hand on the back of her chair, fingers tracing over her shoulder blade as he ate. He barely paid attention as the directors and Tobias grabbed their food. "Not drinking anything, Abby?" he asked in an undertone.

Unconsciously leaning closer to him when she felt his fingers on her skin, she said, "My normal drink of choice isn't here. But some coffee will be okay. Be right back." Slipping out of her chair, she went back to where she had set up the drinks. Pouring a cup with several spoons of sugar, she made her way back to her seat, sliding in.

"What is your normal?" He asked, sipping his coffee. Being close to her and establishing a rapport felt relaxed and real and nice. He knew it was the calm before the storm. They'd need to be debriefed and some sort of strategy established—and soon. But for now this was a break he'd gladly hang onto.

Absently, she wished he would touch her again as simply as he had before, but she was grateful that they seemed to get along just as well without the sexual tension they had in the hallway. "Caf-Pow. My drink of choice is Caf-Pow. Do you think we'll be able to get some when we're undercover?"

"Caf-Pow?" he asked, thinking about it and picturing a soda cup. Her expression was deeply concerned, and he realized it might be hitting her hard. "Extra caffeinated soda? I'm sure we can work it out, Abby. We want you happy and comfortable. They'll get you some of your favorite clothes from your house, and will arrange to have your pets or plants taken care of. You're not without a net here and the team is our team. FBI or NCIS, they're still in place to make sure we succeed and do so safely."

He pulled her close, tucking her tight under his arm. "You'll be okay. My men have done this before and yours have done a lot with undercover ops, even if they aren't joint ops with our men too. I promise you that it'll be safe and run seamlessly."

Snuggling in close, she turned and looked up into his eyes. She loved the feeling she had under his arm. Smiling, she said, "I know, Jet. I trust you. I trust my team. And I've worked with Fornell before, many times. I trust you to take care of me. No pets, only some plants. But I don't know if my clothes will work, will they? I mean," she said, gesturing to her current outfit. "This is generally what I wear. I know we haven't worked out the details yet, but I don't think I'll blend in well with these. I tend to stick out."

"Let them figure it out. You can wear what you want inside; they'll put together a wardrobe for you to wear outside." He motioned to the two directors talking. "They're probably working out our cover story now. Hope I can keep you at the penthouse. It is phenomenal. The views of the Potomac are amazing." He gave her a wistful smile. "It isn't home but it isn't too bad either." And with her there, the ache would be less, the loneliness less painful.

"But, if you're forced to be away from what you know and love for so long, a penthouse is probably a nice place to lay your head," she said, agreeing, teasing him lightly. Turning her head into his shoulder, she whispered, "And thank you, Jet. For trying to make this easier on me. I know they probably didn't make these kinds of concessions for you, but thank you. With you there, I think I'll be fine ... well you and a Caf-Pow every now and then."

"You want to be all alone eighteen hours a day or with me?" he shot back, knowing he knew the answer. He rested his hand on her head when she pressed it against his shoulder. "You'd be surprised. This isn't me." He motioned to the designer clothes, the haircut that was much more precise and longer than his barber ever created. "They set up an entire life for us, not just a name."

Afraid to look at him, she asked tentatively, "How do you do it, Jet? Be someone else without losing yourself?" She was confused at his question. "I hope you're not losing faith in me. I'll be able to do this. I promise."

"Not at all," he whispered, stroking her hair. "I just want you to know everything you leave behind. You're leaving Abby back here and you have to play a role. All the time, even when we're alone. I don't want you to be overwhelmed. I wouldn't choose this road for you." He was selfishly glad he'd be sharing it with her but he didn't dare admit that yet.