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Mar. 17th, 2005 07:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeTitle: Untitled
Author: Jag
Fandom: Navy NCIS (what? WHAT?)
Pairing: Gibbs/Abby
Rating: PG
Summary: The one person who can stand up to him turns out to be more than he bargained for. And she really knows her ropes.
Notes: Part 1 of ??, aided and abetted by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
adsartha. There you go, hon, I ficc'ed it up for you. :)
There were times that Gibbs wondered if he really was exactly as smart as he thought he was.
It had seemed a reasonable idea at the time. They’d found ligature marks on the body that Ducky couldn’t quite explain, and he’d gone to Abby for a consult. When she’d called him down at the end of the day, he figured she had something. And she had, and he’d been duly proud, until she’d asked him to get on the floor and demonstrated what she meant.
He really should have clued in at about that point. Unidentifiable ligature marks. The rope in Abby’s hand. But he trusted her, figured she hadn’t actually intended on tying him up, and done as she asked. It was all about greater understanding of victim and perp, right? Put yourself in the victim’s position and see what happened.
Except now she was kneeling over him and smirking. Not a good sign.
“Abs?” You can untie me any day now. Really.
“See, Gibbs?” she said, bright as ever. She leaned forward, kissed him on the cheek. He was sure she meant to flash her cleavage at him, too. Um. “Accounts for everything.”
And then, as if that wasn’t enough, she turned and walked off to do some other thing. Or maybe just to go home. Leaving him tied up on the floor? No way. He could probably get out of it in time, it couldn’t have been that hard to do. Maybe. Because he was struggling experimentally and it wasn’t getting him anywhere, but he was a trained professional, right? Escape and … and all his moving around wasn’t getting him a damn thing. She’s leaving him tied up. It takes him a second, a second in which she gets closer to the door, and he was trying to figure out what the hell all this meant. It made him feel… odd, the theories he was coming up with. But the important part was that she was walking away, and he was still tied up.
“Abby!”
She turned around, smirking. “Yes, Gibbs?”
“… you gonna untie me?” It was very hard to maintain any semblance of authority when hog-tied. Thank god diNozzo, even Kate wasn’t here to see this. Just Abby. Who he was probably thinking about more than he should, even if she was the one who had tied … “Please?” There. That would help.
She turned all the way around to face him and put on a visible show of considering it. When she walked back it was slow, deliberate. And with a little extra bit of sashay in there that he was sure he wasn’t supposed to notice. Well, maybe she intended him to, but his position and rank shouldn’t let him. “What’ll you give me if I do?” she grinned, cracking her gum.
Half the things that sprang to mind weren’t appropriate at all. It was that cleavage shot, he decided. He also thought about telling her not to tease a guy like that, but that wouldn’t be appropriate either, giving himself away like that. Not that there was anything to give away. God, what was wrong with him today? Come on, Gibbs. Think of something that isn’t…
“I’ll…” Come on, you can think of something. “… get you that…” what the hell was that piece of equipment she had been nagging him about. “…thingie you’ve been trying to requisition.”
She chuckled, playing with one of her braids. “Thingie?”
“That…” Oh god, Abs, don’t make me think. Please? He grabbed the first technological-sounding name he could think of. “Mass-spectrometer. Thing.”
She burst into laughter. “Oh, Gibbs, you really are hopeless, sometimes. We already have one of those.” Sweet tones, silly rabbit, tricks are for grown-ups. Affection and amusement. She knelt down at his side, one hand on his chest. He looked down at it, at her. The room had just gotten five degrees warmer.
“… the other thing, then. Um. The spectrographic…” He couldn’t think of anything. He could, however, feel every inch of skin pressed to his chest. He gave up. “Ah, hell, Abs, you know I can’t remember half the names of the equipment in here. Just. C’mon. Untie me?”
The problem with this situation, really, was that it was more equal than he usually had with his subordinates. Everyone else… Kate, McGee, diNozzo… he could order them around with perfect confidence and impunity. Their specialties were, for the most part, his specialty. And he was older, better, higher-ranking than they were, and everyone knew and was comfortable with it. Abby and Ducky were different. Specialists in their field, and while he still technically outranked her at least he wasn’t as comfortable pulling the authoritarian act on her. He preferred to let them have their head, allowed her a kind of latitude in her speech and actions that he would never have allowed from Kate or, God forbid, diNozzo. And in return she did everything he asked her to, and brilliantly. He was proud of her, more often than he wanted to let on, although he thought she saw it more than most of the rest of them did. And he genuinely liked her, which was unusual.
And which was probably why he’d let her get him into this position. He tried to wriggle a little more, continued to fail in getting himself loose. She really knew her ropes, and he didn’t want to think where she would have picked up that kind of knowledge. They’d had those conversations before… he didn’t want to think about that, right now, either.
She tapped a finger against his chest, the smile fading though the sparkle in her eyes was still there. Hidden laughter. “But you’re so much fun to tease.”
“This isn’t teasing, Abs, this is bondage.”
There was something in his voice that he hadn’t meant to put there. Something dark. Potentially dangerous, but also … no. Don’t go there.
“Well, we can’t rule anything out, can we, Gibbs? Got to explore all the possibilities.”
“And I think we’ve explored this one.” Now he was just quiet. Still. No more thinking, just reacting with all the instinct he had. With the one weapon he could still use in this position.
“Not quite,” she said. Quite calm, she leaned over and kissed him on the lips. Brief, chaste, almost perfunctory. “Now I suppose I’ll untie you.” Which she did. Reaching around and ignoring the fact that her body was suddenly too close to his after that one-second gesture, undoing the cords.
He flushed. He could feel it, and somewhere in the back of his mind there was a flash of a glimpse of a moment in which he grabbed her the second she untied him, forced her to her feet, kissed her until they were both breathless. Fingertips digging into her arms and bruising pressure on her mouth, no malice just force, enough force to show her that no matter what position she had him in he was still on top. And desire.
And it was gone almost before he realized he’d thought it, too fast to leave anything more than a vague sense of disturbance. Leaving confusion in its wake, and irritation (more at himself than her, really) and annoying cramps in his arms and legs.
She glanced at him, a little closer than she perhaps needed to be. “Sore?”
He looked up at her, swinging around to a sitting position and massaging his wrists and calves. "Yeah?" A very 'duh' tone of voice, eyebrows up. What would have been an irritated expression except it... wasn't, really. Because he wasn't. Felt as though he should be, they were playing games when they should have been working, but it didn't bother him as much as it might have.
She smiled, crouched in front of him, pushed his hands away gently. "Here..." Pushing things more than she'd expected to, but he wasn't exactly discouraging her. "Sorry," she added, not sounding it in the least.
He let her. And he shouldn’t have, decades of training screaming out in his mind that this was pushing past the boundaries of what was permissible. Decades of habit remarking, sarcastically, that he’d never paid attention to official rules or boundaries anyway. That brief kiss and those few touches still niggling at the back of his mind. He’d always paid attention to that rule. Fraternization was the most polite word he could think of for it, right now.
“Abs…” There was something he’d meant to say. He couldn’t think what it might have been.
She swallowed a little, popped another bubble. She wasn’t watching him anymore, just. Her hands on him, working blood flow back into hands and legs. She was actually really good. He didn’t want to think about that, either. “Yah?” He knew she was expecting a scolding. Or something along those lines anyway, or maybe just asking why.
“...why…” It came out as a mutter, more to himself. He hadn’t actually meant to ask.
And this wasn’t going anywhere he could allow it to go. Regulations. He hadn’t broken this one, yet. Wasn’t going to. (No matter how much he wanted to.) He didn’t push her away, but he did scoot back and crawl awkwardly to his feet. “Thanks.”
She stayed there, tracing little patterns on the floor with her fingers for a minute, looking down. Something quiet, unusually so about her. Then she shook her head and bounced to her feet and suddenly it was the old Abs again. Smiling. “Because I could.” Impish, teasing him. Also cutting through his well-intentioned bullshit, like she always did. And he’d always liked that about her, despite himself.
“Oh.” He still wasn’t sure what to make of that, though. And he was only ever half-sure what to make of her, anyway, so he let it go. His mind stayed fogged over for a minute, watching her braids bounce. Watching her eyes dance. Just watching.
She reached up, patted him on the cheek. “I should get back to work.” In her best impression of him. “On the clock, you know.” Things seemed to have returned to normal. Status quo reasserting itself. Better that way.
She turned around, headed out, presumably to deliver her results to Ducky. Oh god, hopefully not all her results.
Over her shoulder, quietly. So quiet he almost missed it. “Because I wanted to.”
He just stared at her, then at the doorway, for a long moment. Processing that, or trying to. A breath that was sharper, deeper than he wanted it to be. And then he shook his head, forced himself to shake it off, and walked out. Work to do.
Author: Jag
Fandom: Navy NCIS (what? WHAT?)
Pairing: Gibbs/Abby
Rating: PG
Summary: The one person who can stand up to him turns out to be more than he bargained for. And she really knows her ropes.
Notes: Part 1 of ??, aided and abetted by
adsartha. There you go, hon, I ficc'ed it up for you. :)There were times that Gibbs wondered if he really was exactly as smart as he thought he was.
It had seemed a reasonable idea at the time. They’d found ligature marks on the body that Ducky couldn’t quite explain, and he’d gone to Abby for a consult. When she’d called him down at the end of the day, he figured she had something. And she had, and he’d been duly proud, until she’d asked him to get on the floor and demonstrated what she meant.
He really should have clued in at about that point. Unidentifiable ligature marks. The rope in Abby’s hand. But he trusted her, figured she hadn’t actually intended on tying him up, and done as she asked. It was all about greater understanding of victim and perp, right? Put yourself in the victim’s position and see what happened.
Except now she was kneeling over him and smirking. Not a good sign.
“Abs?” You can untie me any day now. Really.
“See, Gibbs?” she said, bright as ever. She leaned forward, kissed him on the cheek. He was sure she meant to flash her cleavage at him, too. Um. “Accounts for everything.”
And then, as if that wasn’t enough, she turned and walked off to do some other thing. Or maybe just to go home. Leaving him tied up on the floor? No way. He could probably get out of it in time, it couldn’t have been that hard to do. Maybe. Because he was struggling experimentally and it wasn’t getting him anywhere, but he was a trained professional, right? Escape and … and all his moving around wasn’t getting him a damn thing. She’s leaving him tied up. It takes him a second, a second in which she gets closer to the door, and he was trying to figure out what the hell all this meant. It made him feel… odd, the theories he was coming up with. But the important part was that she was walking away, and he was still tied up.
“Abby!”
She turned around, smirking. “Yes, Gibbs?”
“… you gonna untie me?” It was very hard to maintain any semblance of authority when hog-tied. Thank god diNozzo, even Kate wasn’t here to see this. Just Abby. Who he was probably thinking about more than he should, even if she was the one who had tied … “Please?” There. That would help.
She turned all the way around to face him and put on a visible show of considering it. When she walked back it was slow, deliberate. And with a little extra bit of sashay in there that he was sure he wasn’t supposed to notice. Well, maybe she intended him to, but his position and rank shouldn’t let him. “What’ll you give me if I do?” she grinned, cracking her gum.
Half the things that sprang to mind weren’t appropriate at all. It was that cleavage shot, he decided. He also thought about telling her not to tease a guy like that, but that wouldn’t be appropriate either, giving himself away like that. Not that there was anything to give away. God, what was wrong with him today? Come on, Gibbs. Think of something that isn’t…
“I’ll…” Come on, you can think of something. “… get you that…” what the hell was that piece of equipment she had been nagging him about. “…thingie you’ve been trying to requisition.”
She chuckled, playing with one of her braids. “Thingie?”
“That…” Oh god, Abs, don’t make me think. Please? He grabbed the first technological-sounding name he could think of. “Mass-spectrometer. Thing.”
She burst into laughter. “Oh, Gibbs, you really are hopeless, sometimes. We already have one of those.” Sweet tones, silly rabbit, tricks are for grown-ups. Affection and amusement. She knelt down at his side, one hand on his chest. He looked down at it, at her. The room had just gotten five degrees warmer.
“… the other thing, then. Um. The spectrographic…” He couldn’t think of anything. He could, however, feel every inch of skin pressed to his chest. He gave up. “Ah, hell, Abs, you know I can’t remember half the names of the equipment in here. Just. C’mon. Untie me?”
The problem with this situation, really, was that it was more equal than he usually had with his subordinates. Everyone else… Kate, McGee, diNozzo… he could order them around with perfect confidence and impunity. Their specialties were, for the most part, his specialty. And he was older, better, higher-ranking than they were, and everyone knew and was comfortable with it. Abby and Ducky were different. Specialists in their field, and while he still technically outranked her at least he wasn’t as comfortable pulling the authoritarian act on her. He preferred to let them have their head, allowed her a kind of latitude in her speech and actions that he would never have allowed from Kate or, God forbid, diNozzo. And in return she did everything he asked her to, and brilliantly. He was proud of her, more often than he wanted to let on, although he thought she saw it more than most of the rest of them did. And he genuinely liked her, which was unusual.
And which was probably why he’d let her get him into this position. He tried to wriggle a little more, continued to fail in getting himself loose. She really knew her ropes, and he didn’t want to think where she would have picked up that kind of knowledge. They’d had those conversations before… he didn’t want to think about that, right now, either.
She tapped a finger against his chest, the smile fading though the sparkle in her eyes was still there. Hidden laughter. “But you’re so much fun to tease.”
“This isn’t teasing, Abs, this is bondage.”
There was something in his voice that he hadn’t meant to put there. Something dark. Potentially dangerous, but also … no. Don’t go there.
“Well, we can’t rule anything out, can we, Gibbs? Got to explore all the possibilities.”
“And I think we’ve explored this one.” Now he was just quiet. Still. No more thinking, just reacting with all the instinct he had. With the one weapon he could still use in this position.
“Not quite,” she said. Quite calm, she leaned over and kissed him on the lips. Brief, chaste, almost perfunctory. “Now I suppose I’ll untie you.” Which she did. Reaching around and ignoring the fact that her body was suddenly too close to his after that one-second gesture, undoing the cords.
He flushed. He could feel it, and somewhere in the back of his mind there was a flash of a glimpse of a moment in which he grabbed her the second she untied him, forced her to her feet, kissed her until they were both breathless. Fingertips digging into her arms and bruising pressure on her mouth, no malice just force, enough force to show her that no matter what position she had him in he was still on top. And desire.
And it was gone almost before he realized he’d thought it, too fast to leave anything more than a vague sense of disturbance. Leaving confusion in its wake, and irritation (more at himself than her, really) and annoying cramps in his arms and legs.
She glanced at him, a little closer than she perhaps needed to be. “Sore?”
He looked up at her, swinging around to a sitting position and massaging his wrists and calves. "Yeah?" A very 'duh' tone of voice, eyebrows up. What would have been an irritated expression except it... wasn't, really. Because he wasn't. Felt as though he should be, they were playing games when they should have been working, but it didn't bother him as much as it might have.
She smiled, crouched in front of him, pushed his hands away gently. "Here..." Pushing things more than she'd expected to, but he wasn't exactly discouraging her. "Sorry," she added, not sounding it in the least.
He let her. And he shouldn’t have, decades of training screaming out in his mind that this was pushing past the boundaries of what was permissible. Decades of habit remarking, sarcastically, that he’d never paid attention to official rules or boundaries anyway. That brief kiss and those few touches still niggling at the back of his mind. He’d always paid attention to that rule. Fraternization was the most polite word he could think of for it, right now.
“Abs…” There was something he’d meant to say. He couldn’t think what it might have been.
She swallowed a little, popped another bubble. She wasn’t watching him anymore, just. Her hands on him, working blood flow back into hands and legs. She was actually really good. He didn’t want to think about that, either. “Yah?” He knew she was expecting a scolding. Or something along those lines anyway, or maybe just asking why.
“...why…” It came out as a mutter, more to himself. He hadn’t actually meant to ask.
And this wasn’t going anywhere he could allow it to go. Regulations. He hadn’t broken this one, yet. Wasn’t going to. (No matter how much he wanted to.) He didn’t push her away, but he did scoot back and crawl awkwardly to his feet. “Thanks.”
She stayed there, tracing little patterns on the floor with her fingers for a minute, looking down. Something quiet, unusually so about her. Then she shook her head and bounced to her feet and suddenly it was the old Abs again. Smiling. “Because I could.” Impish, teasing him. Also cutting through his well-intentioned bullshit, like she always did. And he’d always liked that about her, despite himself.
“Oh.” He still wasn’t sure what to make of that, though. And he was only ever half-sure what to make of her, anyway, so he let it go. His mind stayed fogged over for a minute, watching her braids bounce. Watching her eyes dance. Just watching.
She reached up, patted him on the cheek. “I should get back to work.” In her best impression of him. “On the clock, you know.” Things seemed to have returned to normal. Status quo reasserting itself. Better that way.
She turned around, headed out, presumably to deliver her results to Ducky. Oh god, hopefully not all her results.
Over her shoulder, quietly. So quiet he almost missed it. “Because I wanted to.”
He just stared at her, then at the doorway, for a long moment. Processing that, or trying to. A breath that was sharper, deeper than he wanted it to be. And then he shook his head, forced himself to shake it off, and walked out. Work to do.