NCIS. Abby/Kate. 008. Weeks.
Title: Tonight Will Be Fire
Fandom: NCIS
Characters: Abigail Sciuto, Caitlin Todd, Jethro Gibbs, Anthony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee, Donald "Ducky" Mallard
Prompt: 008 Weeks
Word Count: 3,916
Rating: NC17
Summary: The first six weeks of Kate and Abby's relationship coincides with the spree of a serial arsonist.
Author's Notes: Title is from my misreading of a Leonard Cohen song title. I actually like this better than the actual title! ;-)
Little Damn Table
Abby had never done the big six-month anniversary, one-year, any of that couple-ish stuff. Her relationships, such as they were, seldom if ever extended to the "you and me and no one else" phase. She'd never filled her schoolbooks with signatures of Abigail Jones or Hughes or Thompson or whatever her current boyfriend's name might have been.
Two months before Caitlin Todd came to NCIS, Abby had been sitting in church when a revelation struck her. If ever there was a place for revelations, after all... She had been half-listening to a sermon about accepting God into your heart, about making a commitment to Him for your soul. Her mind had wandered, as it usually did, and a quiet voice whispered in her ear.
Commitment doesn't mean forever.
Commitment is being together as long as you can be together.
Abby had ignored the comment, but hadn't forgotten it. She had initially ignored the signals she was receiving from Kate, pushing them to the back of her mind. "Kate is an agent," she told her reflection through a mouthful of toothpaste foam. "Even if you got together, what if something happened to her?"
Commitment is being together as long as you can be together.
She spit out her toothpaste, staring at the eyes of her reflection. She tried to decipher what her mind or subconscious or whatever was trying to tell her, but couldn't. She rinsed her mouth, spitting into the sink again and casting one last questioning look at her reflection before turning out the light.
The next day, she'd gone with Caitlin to a bar after work. They'd talked about her days in the Secret Service. Abby pictured Kate standing at attention, wearing a dark suit and mirrored sunglasses, back straight and hands clasped behind her back. She got a chill and covered it by coughing into her hand.
Their first kiss was five days later, in the NCIS elevator, a soft, slow touch. Kate had touched her lips to the divot below Abby's bottom lip, sliding her mouth up until it covered Abby's. A breach of tongue and then the kiss was over, like a stillborn child, it was a memory before it even truly existed. Abby smiled the entire day.
She was never caught off-guard again. Kate tried. Oh, she tried. They fought, they angled for control, they laughed into the kiss as both of them fought. Abby cupped the back of Kate's head, holding her in place. Kate pressed against Abby's shoulders, trying to stop the kiss before someone walked in and saw them.
After two weeks of dating, Abby found herself alone with Kate, in Kate's apartment, watching the candles burn down in their holders. She found herself watching Kate walk from the couch to the kitchen. Her pants stopped at mid-calf, her feet bare and toes curling in the plush carpeting.
Bare feet, in Abby's experience, had always been a turn-on. Such vulnerability, such openness with another person. When Kate returned with their drink refills, curling her feet underneath her, Abby leaned in and kissed her. Kate made a quiet whimper in the back of her throat and lightly put her hands on Abby's hips.
Abby slid her hands up, under Kate's arms, finding the outline of her bra, tracing it with her fingertips, touching Kate through the layers of lace and silk that separated them. Nipples hardened, a pliant tongue pressed against her teeth and Abby pushed Kate down onto the couch cushions.
Silk was parted and the plain of tan flesh rising above the lacy bra beckoned her. Abby bowed, licking, nipping with her teeth, tracing the lace border with her tongue and tasting the hot skin. She found nipples, tracing them with her tongue and drawing them forth until she could bite them.
Kate squirmed, pressing herself against Abby's thigh, moaning and pushing with her hands and hips. Her hands, on Abby's shoulder, begging to be released. Her hips, pressing against Abby's thigh, begging for release. She sat up and pulled her shirt off, dropping it onto the floor next to the couch. Abby slid her hands behind Kate and released the clasp. They looked into each other's eyes and kissed again as the brassiere was removed and discarded.
Kate slid her hands below the waistband of Abby's pants, cupping her ass, pulling her closer. They moaned into each other's mouth and Abby unfastened Kate's trousers.
Moaning, panting, the candles burning down further. Abby using two fingers to find Kate's perfect rhythm, gauging by her moans, her whimpers, the way her eyelids fluttered when she thrust. Abby ending up nude on the floor, Kate crying into Abby's shoulder as she came. Kate kissed Abby's face and said three words. Abby repeated them, adding a "too" at the end and meaning it. She kissed Kate's lips, a ghost like before, letting her tongue linger with the taste of Kate.
She spent her first night.
The next morning, looking in the mirror, Abby put on Kate's clothes. She left her hair down, covering her neck tattoo. She adjusted the belt of the trousers until it fit snugly against her hip, she tucked the blouse in, stared hard at herself in the mirror. Abigail. Abigail. No Abby in this penguin suit. She shed the clothes and headed into the bedroom in her panties.
Kate was standing in front of the closet mirror wearing a faded concert t-shirt and a too-tight plaid skirt. Cat, not Caitlin. Abby smiled and Kate returned it.
Abigail made love to Cat at the foot of the bed.
They showered together, not Caitlin, Cat, Abigail or Abby. Kate bowed her head and Abby licked her closed eyelids. Kate shuddered and clung to her. They dried themselves and dressed; Kate in a new suit while Abby wore the clothes she'd arrived in. They kissed good-bye on the private side of the door, mere friends when they crossed the threshold to the public side.
After a few days at work, the awareness began to trickle down. Gibbs, naturally, was the first. He watched Kate, watched Abby, watched them together. Kate suspected he knew, and eventually she knew that he knew. He never said a word for or against, merely content to leave them alone together, to look the other way if there was a lingering touch, an overlong embrace.
Tony was trickier, slower on the uptake, never quite sure what he believed. If he knew what he knew or was simply imagining it as every man's fantasy. He never quite figured it out, never made the leap from suspicion to knowledge.
Ducky knew. Kate didn't question it. Neither did Abby. They held hands in his presence, he watched Abby nuzzle Kate's neck once. He said nothing. Eventually, Abby suspected he had known before Kate did.
McGee was clueless.
The first fire came on the Saturday night of Kate and Abby's third week as a couple. They were on the couch, watching a movie, curled in each other's arms when the call came in. Kate apologizing, kissing Abby good-bye before putting on her shoes and heading out to the scene. Abby put on her shoes as well, already in the lab when Gibbs called her to come in.
A night started over manicotti and wine ended with microscopes and char. A house fire, suspicious circumstances, Navy Lieutenant and his wife killed in the blaze. Kate was one of the three agents who came down to hear Abby's report at midnight. She stood to Gibbs' left, beside DiNozzo, acting nonchalant, acting normal. Abby acted normal as well, listing the components the arsonist had used.
The fire was set, without a doubt. The accelerant was gasoline. There was no sign whether the Lieutenant had been targeted or a mere accidental victim. Gibbs and DiNozzo left, Kate remained behind to help Abby. They worked through the night, identifying small snatches of paper, running chemical analysis on the residue from the crime scene.
While the machines whirred all around them, the countdown for the results began. Kate and Abby ended up on the floor, Kate's arms around Abby's shoulders, clasped in the middle of her chest, Abby's head soft against Kate's breasts. She dozed, the slow and steady rhythm of Kate's breathing lulling her to sleep.
By dawn, they'd found nothing probative. Gibbs sent her and Kate home, telling them there was nothing more they could do at the moment. They left, not knowing if he was aware they had the same destination in mind. Kate drove, drowsy, questioning whether to drive to her own apartment or Abby's.
They went, as always, to Kate's apartment. A quick shower together, half asleep in each other's arms, before they curled together under the blankets of Kate's bed. Abby stroked wet strands of hair from Kate's face as she fell asleep. Commitment is being together as long as you can be together. But suddenly, that forever thing didn't seem like all that big a deal.
Meanwhile, the investigation slowed... stopped... died. The embers cooled. The Navy Lieutenant and his wife were still dead and the arsonist had disappeared with the smoke of his creation. They moved on to other investigations, the missing arsonist, the untied loose end eating at Gibbs. Two more investigations, opened and solved, the arsonist still roaming free.
Kate fought with Abby, Abby threw a piece of toast on the floor. Kate left the apartment, her own apartment, and left Abby on the couch. When she returned, she knelt on the floor in front of the couch, kissed the palm of Abby's hand, whispered apologies into soft, dark hair. She undressed Kate, accepting her apology with kisses down her chest. She apologized for her own shouting between Kate's legs.
Kate leaned against the coffee tables, arms spread as if crucified and accepting Abby's apology with quiet moans.
Abby, stretched out flat against the floor, framed by Kate's nude legs, curled her tongue and made Kate come. Kate undressed Abby on the way to the bedroom, their fight over, smiling at each other between kisses.
The next morning, they woke to the news that a second fire had been set, another Navy officer was dead and their arsonist was back. Kate dressed in a polo shirt and cargo pants, kissing Abby goodbye at the door. Abby remained in the apartment, finishing her breakfast, worrying just a little for Kate's safety.
She arrived at the lab to find the evidence arriving with Tim McGee. They joked, chatted, talked about computer things. Kate passed through the lab, getting the specifics of the case with Gibbs and leaving before Abby had a chance to catch a whiff of her perfume. She chalked it up to being rushed, to being anxious about the case.
The day ended. The evidence led down the same path to nowhere. Gibbs, frustrated, stormed from the lab. Kate started to follow, but Abby caught up with her. They moved to a quiet room, sitting in the dark. Kate bowed her head and whispered her fears.
She'd seen it. The body, the corpse of the dead officer's wife. Abby stroked Kate's hair, listening to every word because it had to be spoken. She cupped Kate's face, kissed her cheeks and moved closer, embracing her. Kate made sure her face was dry before she returned to the world. Abby filed away in a cherished place the memory of being the only one to see Kate cry.
Over the next seven days, Abby learned things about Kate. That she took bubble baths after especially long days. That she hated the smallest toe on her right foot for no discernable reason other than "it looked weird." She preferred the left side of the bed because, as a child, that was the side farthest from the window. Cotton underwear meant that she was feeling practical; when she was frisky, she wore lace and silk. She'd only had her heart broken once, but it had been a near-fatal injury.
Over the next seven days, Kate learned facts about Abby. That her first dog collar had been from her first girlfriend. She'd gotten her first kiss in one of New Orleans' famous cemeteries. Her first and most difficult heartbreak had been when her coon dog, Bubba, disappeared and was found dead a few months later. She'd been held at gunpoint and knifepoint, both by people she'd previously slept with. Her first tattoo had been to commemorate her decision not to commit suicide.
These revelations and others were exchanged by moonlight, whispered like national secrets. Abby learned that Kate had lived exclusively off one-night stands for most of her college career. Kate's first girlfriend had been closeted, self-hating and abusive. Abby showed Kate the scars where she used to cut herself. Kate showed Abby the cigarette burn her first "lover" had left her as a keepsake. Abby kissed it while Kate massaged the scars on the inside of Abby's thigh. They first made love slowly, Kate on top of Abby, and then roughly, Abby on top of Kate.
Before her orgasm, Abby brought Kate's right foot to her lips and kissed the smallest toe.
At work, the lines of the spider's web were forming. Connections between the two dead Navy officers had been tenuously constructed and now they were attempting to confirm what they had learned. Two men did not a pattern make, only suspicions. Gibbs hoped to prove the existence of a connection before a third death erased all doubt. Kate and Tony interviewed people who'd known the deceased, driving back and forth to Quantico and Little Creek.
When Kate returned home, she took a bubble bath and immediately went to bed. Abby found her there later, undressing and crawling under the covers. Kate didn't stir, but murmured quietly as Abby embraced her from behind. She kissed Kate's ear, her skin still moist from the shower and fell asleep.
Despite the connections, despite knowing the two deaths were related, the arsonist continued to slip through the team's grasp.
They had been together four weeks when the third fire broke out. They'd been in the middle of a "pawing session," as Abby called it, when the call came in. Kate pulled her blouse back on, kissing Abby good-bye as she ran out the door. It was Gibbs' hope that if they arrived soon enough, they might catch the firebug in action. Abby was left on the couch, bottomless, staring at the window and hoping they caught him soon.
She didn't see Kate for almost twenty-four hours. The press of evidence, the rush of Gibbs' investigation, the hurry-up-and-wait of trying to track down the arsonist's identity kept them apart. The third fire had proven the connection; all three of the deceased had been assigned to the same ship. All Gibbs had to do was figure out what had happened on the ship, who it had happened to and who might be seeking revenge.
The next time Kate saw Abby, they were in the elevator with DiNozzo, McGee and Ducky. Kate, regardless of witnesses, put her head on Abby's shoulder and closed her eyes. Abby stroked her hair gently and whispered to her. The three men said nothing, although McGee and DiNozzo exchanged a look.
On their fifth anniversary, Kate innocently called Abby passive-aggressive. The fight didn't end until they went to bed in separate apartments. Abby spent the next few days fighting the urge to go upstairs, alternating between wanting to be alone and wondering why Kate wasn't coming down to accept her apology.
Every time the elevator bell chimed, Abby hopefully moved towards it to see if it was Kate. Every time, she was forced to hide her dismay and go over another piece of the investigatory puzzle. Ducky spoke with her about her obvious melancholy, speaking at length about a girl he'd once avoided for six months until he discovered she was avoiding him, at which point he became determined to spend time with her.
Two days after their fight, Abby returned to her apartment to find black rose petals lining a path to her bedroom. Kate was sitting on the edge of the guest bed, wearing a black silk robe and holding the remnants of the black rose. Abby smiled. Kate dropped the robe and apologized. Abby was too distracted to accept with words. They made love for the first time in Abby's bed.
On their six-week anniversary, Kate wore a white silk blouse and black trousers over a lacy green teddy. She lit candles all around her apartment, put brand-new sheets on the bed, actually cooked using a recipe from Martha Stewart and had her hair done. Abby was due to arrive at 7:00.
At a quarter to, the phone rang.
Abby arrived at NCIS headquarters with her hair up, wearing a dress and a dainty chain necklace in place of her dog collar. Gibbs, Tony, Kate and McGee all wore earwigs, keeping in contact with each other. The At-Sea Social Club from the USS Princeton had one remaining member, the last one to not die in a fire.
The ASS Club, as they affectionately called themselves, specialized in hazing new recruits. The hunt for the golden rivet was their favorite game. Apparently one newcomer had been less than thrilled with their brand of humor and was exacting revenge of a bit more permanent nature.
Kate's voice came over the speakers, announcing in a loud whisper that she was at the side door, awaiting command. Abby pictured her, standing in a dark side yard, gun drawn, with a Kevlar vest over her silk blouse, covered with the NCIS Federal Agent jacket. Her hair, which she'd spent so much to form into curls, was destroyed underneath a ball cap. Her manicured fingernails had mostly likely chipped in protest as soon as she touched a gun.
The call was given and anarchy broke out.
Shouts, screams, gunfire. McGee, shouting Gibbs name. Half-spoken words, buried in static. More gunfire, a scream. Gibbs screaming, "Federal agent! Put the weapon down!"
"Gibbs!"
"Put the weapon down!"
"It's already armed!"
"McGee!"
"Kate! Kate!"
"Here!"
"DiNozzo, get..."
"Boss!"
Someone was running, but with all the feeds intertwining she couldn't tell who. The explosion forced Abby to push the earphones off. She backpedaled, staring at the computer screen as if afraid the fire would reach through the phone lines to her. Static on several of the feeds, hopefully just scrambled by the explosion and not...
Commitment is being together as long as you can be together.
"Report."
Static.
"DiNozzo, Kate, report."
Static, replies that Abby never heard. Gibbs speaking to someone nearby without a headset and then, "Find the body."
Commitment is being together as long as you can be together.
The scene was close enough that, when the fire department responded, Abby could hear the sirens outside. She backed up and hit the edge of the table, sliding down, down, down to the floor and staring at the screen.
Tony's feed was dead.
Kate's feed was dead.
Tony... Kate...
Commitment is being together as long as you can be together.
---
Kate remembered flying.
Not in any spiritual, metaphysical, 'don't-go-into-the-light' sense, but in the literal sense. The force of the explosion had lifted her off the ground and thrown her thirty yards. The only thing that stopped her flight had been the side of a Buick Century, the passenger side front door denting with the impact of her body. She'd hit the ground, her ears ringing like a fire alarm.
She stayed on the ground until the paramedics retrieved her, checking her reflexes and administering first-aid for the cuts and scrapes on her face. One of the paramedics, noting her outfit and ruined hairdo, asked, "Do all NCIS agents look this good for raids?"
She smiled weakly and told him it was their six-week anniversary tonight. The paramedic told her congratulations.
Her blouse had ripped. Her dismay at the blouse being ruined was eclipsed by her horror at realizing the brassiere of her teddy had been visible since the explosion. She closed her jacket, zipping it up and trying not to blush too ferociously.
The humiliated victim of the ASS Club had died in the explosion as he'd meant to. The Lieutenant he'd been attempting to kill had, fortunately, been spared. NCIS had moved him to a safe house well before the arsonist ever arrived. After being cleared by the paramedics and once Gibbs had made sure she was all right, she was allowed to go home. McGee drove her, commenting that he'd been horrified when he saw her flying through the air.
She thanked him for his concern, said good-night to DiNozzo - who was sprawled out in the backseat - and went upstairs to her apartment. Her back ached, her arms and legs ached, she had a migraine, her clothes were ruined, she was cut and her face stung like a million bees. She felt like she'd broken her foot, felt like her thighs were on fire, felt like maybe she did die and her body was waiting to catch up.
She opened the door to her apartment, lifelessly flopping onto the couch. She closed her eyes, staring through the window until the lights faded and she was asleep.
---
Abby moved her carefully; just a gentle lift of the arm, a roll of the shoulder, a rearrangement of her legs... nothing that would jostle her or wake her. The tub was full of hot, apple-scented bubble bath. Abby stripped Kate on the couch, undressing her and laying the discarded clothes to the side. Once she was naked, Abby lifted and carried Kate down the hall to the bathroom.
Kate only stirred when her feet sank into the water. She clutched Abby's collar, gasping and opening her eyes wide. "What...?"
"It's okay," Abby whispered, pressing her lips against Kate's temple.
Kate relaxed and allowed herself to be lowered, allowed herself to drown. Her head rested at the curve of the tub, eyelids drifting shut, lips parting as the water pressed in and pulled back at the same time. Every pore open, Kate felt like she could breathe again. Abby rolled up her sleeve, pushing her hand under the bubbles and finding Kate's slick thigh.
"Happy anniversary," Abby whispered, touching Kate, stroking her under the water. Kate gasped and licked her lips, rearranging herself. Fingers inside of her, she gripped the edge of the tub and came far earlier than she'd anticipated, biting her bottom lip, exhaling in release. Abby removed her hand and stood up. Kate watched as she undressed, first picturing each exposed body part in her mind and then letting reality improve upon her memory.
Abby slipped into the bubbles and turned her back to Kate, sliding back against her. Kate wrapped her arms around Abby's shoulders, kissing the back of her neck and moving her hands between Abby's thighs. Abby pressed harder against her as Kate's fingers moved over and then inside of her pussy. When Abby came, Kate bit down on her earlobe and whispered, "I love you."
"I love you, too," Abby promised.
Abby was again reminded that commitment is being together as long as you can be together. However long it is. However long it can be.
Only now was she beginning to realize all the time in the world might not be enough. Both satisfied, both letting the bubble bath relax every muscle in their bodies, Kate whispered, "Happy six-week anniversary."
Abby smiled. "Happy six-week anniversary."
Fandom: NCIS
Characters: Abigail Sciuto, Caitlin Todd, Jethro Gibbs, Anthony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee, Donald "Ducky" Mallard
Prompt: 008 Weeks
Word Count: 3,916
Rating: NC17
Summary: The first six weeks of Kate and Abby's relationship coincides with the spree of a serial arsonist.
Author's Notes: Title is from my misreading of a Leonard Cohen song title. I actually like this better than the actual title! ;-)
Little Damn Table
Abby had never done the big six-month anniversary, one-year, any of that couple-ish stuff. Her relationships, such as they were, seldom if ever extended to the "you and me and no one else" phase. She'd never filled her schoolbooks with signatures of Abigail Jones or Hughes or Thompson or whatever her current boyfriend's name might have been.
Two months before Caitlin Todd came to NCIS, Abby had been sitting in church when a revelation struck her. If ever there was a place for revelations, after all... She had been half-listening to a sermon about accepting God into your heart, about making a commitment to Him for your soul. Her mind had wandered, as it usually did, and a quiet voice whispered in her ear.
Commitment doesn't mean forever.
Commitment is being together as long as you can be together.
Abby had ignored the comment, but hadn't forgotten it. She had initially ignored the signals she was receiving from Kate, pushing them to the back of her mind. "Kate is an agent," she told her reflection through a mouthful of toothpaste foam. "Even if you got together, what if something happened to her?"
Commitment is being together as long as you can be together.
She spit out her toothpaste, staring at the eyes of her reflection. She tried to decipher what her mind or subconscious or whatever was trying to tell her, but couldn't. She rinsed her mouth, spitting into the sink again and casting one last questioning look at her reflection before turning out the light.
The next day, she'd gone with Caitlin to a bar after work. They'd talked about her days in the Secret Service. Abby pictured Kate standing at attention, wearing a dark suit and mirrored sunglasses, back straight and hands clasped behind her back. She got a chill and covered it by coughing into her hand.
Their first kiss was five days later, in the NCIS elevator, a soft, slow touch. Kate had touched her lips to the divot below Abby's bottom lip, sliding her mouth up until it covered Abby's. A breach of tongue and then the kiss was over, like a stillborn child, it was a memory before it even truly existed. Abby smiled the entire day.
She was never caught off-guard again. Kate tried. Oh, she tried. They fought, they angled for control, they laughed into the kiss as both of them fought. Abby cupped the back of Kate's head, holding her in place. Kate pressed against Abby's shoulders, trying to stop the kiss before someone walked in and saw them.
After two weeks of dating, Abby found herself alone with Kate, in Kate's apartment, watching the candles burn down in their holders. She found herself watching Kate walk from the couch to the kitchen. Her pants stopped at mid-calf, her feet bare and toes curling in the plush carpeting.
Bare feet, in Abby's experience, had always been a turn-on. Such vulnerability, such openness with another person. When Kate returned with their drink refills, curling her feet underneath her, Abby leaned in and kissed her. Kate made a quiet whimper in the back of her throat and lightly put her hands on Abby's hips.
Abby slid her hands up, under Kate's arms, finding the outline of her bra, tracing it with her fingertips, touching Kate through the layers of lace and silk that separated them. Nipples hardened, a pliant tongue pressed against her teeth and Abby pushed Kate down onto the couch cushions.
Silk was parted and the plain of tan flesh rising above the lacy bra beckoned her. Abby bowed, licking, nipping with her teeth, tracing the lace border with her tongue and tasting the hot skin. She found nipples, tracing them with her tongue and drawing them forth until she could bite them.
Kate squirmed, pressing herself against Abby's thigh, moaning and pushing with her hands and hips. Her hands, on Abby's shoulder, begging to be released. Her hips, pressing against Abby's thigh, begging for release. She sat up and pulled her shirt off, dropping it onto the floor next to the couch. Abby slid her hands behind Kate and released the clasp. They looked into each other's eyes and kissed again as the brassiere was removed and discarded.
Kate slid her hands below the waistband of Abby's pants, cupping her ass, pulling her closer. They moaned into each other's mouth and Abby unfastened Kate's trousers.
Moaning, panting, the candles burning down further. Abby using two fingers to find Kate's perfect rhythm, gauging by her moans, her whimpers, the way her eyelids fluttered when she thrust. Abby ending up nude on the floor, Kate crying into Abby's shoulder as she came. Kate kissed Abby's face and said three words. Abby repeated them, adding a "too" at the end and meaning it. She kissed Kate's lips, a ghost like before, letting her tongue linger with the taste of Kate.
She spent her first night.
The next morning, looking in the mirror, Abby put on Kate's clothes. She left her hair down, covering her neck tattoo. She adjusted the belt of the trousers until it fit snugly against her hip, she tucked the blouse in, stared hard at herself in the mirror. Abigail. Abigail. No Abby in this penguin suit. She shed the clothes and headed into the bedroom in her panties.
Kate was standing in front of the closet mirror wearing a faded concert t-shirt and a too-tight plaid skirt. Cat, not Caitlin. Abby smiled and Kate returned it.
Abigail made love to Cat at the foot of the bed.
They showered together, not Caitlin, Cat, Abigail or Abby. Kate bowed her head and Abby licked her closed eyelids. Kate shuddered and clung to her. They dried themselves and dressed; Kate in a new suit while Abby wore the clothes she'd arrived in. They kissed good-bye on the private side of the door, mere friends when they crossed the threshold to the public side.
After a few days at work, the awareness began to trickle down. Gibbs, naturally, was the first. He watched Kate, watched Abby, watched them together. Kate suspected he knew, and eventually she knew that he knew. He never said a word for or against, merely content to leave them alone together, to look the other way if there was a lingering touch, an overlong embrace.
Tony was trickier, slower on the uptake, never quite sure what he believed. If he knew what he knew or was simply imagining it as every man's fantasy. He never quite figured it out, never made the leap from suspicion to knowledge.
Ducky knew. Kate didn't question it. Neither did Abby. They held hands in his presence, he watched Abby nuzzle Kate's neck once. He said nothing. Eventually, Abby suspected he had known before Kate did.
McGee was clueless.
The first fire came on the Saturday night of Kate and Abby's third week as a couple. They were on the couch, watching a movie, curled in each other's arms when the call came in. Kate apologizing, kissing Abby good-bye before putting on her shoes and heading out to the scene. Abby put on her shoes as well, already in the lab when Gibbs called her to come in.
A night started over manicotti and wine ended with microscopes and char. A house fire, suspicious circumstances, Navy Lieutenant and his wife killed in the blaze. Kate was one of the three agents who came down to hear Abby's report at midnight. She stood to Gibbs' left, beside DiNozzo, acting nonchalant, acting normal. Abby acted normal as well, listing the components the arsonist had used.
The fire was set, without a doubt. The accelerant was gasoline. There was no sign whether the Lieutenant had been targeted or a mere accidental victim. Gibbs and DiNozzo left, Kate remained behind to help Abby. They worked through the night, identifying small snatches of paper, running chemical analysis on the residue from the crime scene.
While the machines whirred all around them, the countdown for the results began. Kate and Abby ended up on the floor, Kate's arms around Abby's shoulders, clasped in the middle of her chest, Abby's head soft against Kate's breasts. She dozed, the slow and steady rhythm of Kate's breathing lulling her to sleep.
By dawn, they'd found nothing probative. Gibbs sent her and Kate home, telling them there was nothing more they could do at the moment. They left, not knowing if he was aware they had the same destination in mind. Kate drove, drowsy, questioning whether to drive to her own apartment or Abby's.
They went, as always, to Kate's apartment. A quick shower together, half asleep in each other's arms, before they curled together under the blankets of Kate's bed. Abby stroked wet strands of hair from Kate's face as she fell asleep. Commitment is being together as long as you can be together. But suddenly, that forever thing didn't seem like all that big a deal.
Meanwhile, the investigation slowed... stopped... died. The embers cooled. The Navy Lieutenant and his wife were still dead and the arsonist had disappeared with the smoke of his creation. They moved on to other investigations, the missing arsonist, the untied loose end eating at Gibbs. Two more investigations, opened and solved, the arsonist still roaming free.
Kate fought with Abby, Abby threw a piece of toast on the floor. Kate left the apartment, her own apartment, and left Abby on the couch. When she returned, she knelt on the floor in front of the couch, kissed the palm of Abby's hand, whispered apologies into soft, dark hair. She undressed Kate, accepting her apology with kisses down her chest. She apologized for her own shouting between Kate's legs.
Kate leaned against the coffee tables, arms spread as if crucified and accepting Abby's apology with quiet moans.
Abby, stretched out flat against the floor, framed by Kate's nude legs, curled her tongue and made Kate come. Kate undressed Abby on the way to the bedroom, their fight over, smiling at each other between kisses.
The next morning, they woke to the news that a second fire had been set, another Navy officer was dead and their arsonist was back. Kate dressed in a polo shirt and cargo pants, kissing Abby goodbye at the door. Abby remained in the apartment, finishing her breakfast, worrying just a little for Kate's safety.
She arrived at the lab to find the evidence arriving with Tim McGee. They joked, chatted, talked about computer things. Kate passed through the lab, getting the specifics of the case with Gibbs and leaving before Abby had a chance to catch a whiff of her perfume. She chalked it up to being rushed, to being anxious about the case.
The day ended. The evidence led down the same path to nowhere. Gibbs, frustrated, stormed from the lab. Kate started to follow, but Abby caught up with her. They moved to a quiet room, sitting in the dark. Kate bowed her head and whispered her fears.
She'd seen it. The body, the corpse of the dead officer's wife. Abby stroked Kate's hair, listening to every word because it had to be spoken. She cupped Kate's face, kissed her cheeks and moved closer, embracing her. Kate made sure her face was dry before she returned to the world. Abby filed away in a cherished place the memory of being the only one to see Kate cry.
Over the next seven days, Abby learned things about Kate. That she took bubble baths after especially long days. That she hated the smallest toe on her right foot for no discernable reason other than "it looked weird." She preferred the left side of the bed because, as a child, that was the side farthest from the window. Cotton underwear meant that she was feeling practical; when she was frisky, she wore lace and silk. She'd only had her heart broken once, but it had been a near-fatal injury.
Over the next seven days, Kate learned facts about Abby. That her first dog collar had been from her first girlfriend. She'd gotten her first kiss in one of New Orleans' famous cemeteries. Her first and most difficult heartbreak had been when her coon dog, Bubba, disappeared and was found dead a few months later. She'd been held at gunpoint and knifepoint, both by people she'd previously slept with. Her first tattoo had been to commemorate her decision not to commit suicide.
These revelations and others were exchanged by moonlight, whispered like national secrets. Abby learned that Kate had lived exclusively off one-night stands for most of her college career. Kate's first girlfriend had been closeted, self-hating and abusive. Abby showed Kate the scars where she used to cut herself. Kate showed Abby the cigarette burn her first "lover" had left her as a keepsake. Abby kissed it while Kate massaged the scars on the inside of Abby's thigh. They first made love slowly, Kate on top of Abby, and then roughly, Abby on top of Kate.
Before her orgasm, Abby brought Kate's right foot to her lips and kissed the smallest toe.
At work, the lines of the spider's web were forming. Connections between the two dead Navy officers had been tenuously constructed and now they were attempting to confirm what they had learned. Two men did not a pattern make, only suspicions. Gibbs hoped to prove the existence of a connection before a third death erased all doubt. Kate and Tony interviewed people who'd known the deceased, driving back and forth to Quantico and Little Creek.
When Kate returned home, she took a bubble bath and immediately went to bed. Abby found her there later, undressing and crawling under the covers. Kate didn't stir, but murmured quietly as Abby embraced her from behind. She kissed Kate's ear, her skin still moist from the shower and fell asleep.
Despite the connections, despite knowing the two deaths were related, the arsonist continued to slip through the team's grasp.
They had been together four weeks when the third fire broke out. They'd been in the middle of a "pawing session," as Abby called it, when the call came in. Kate pulled her blouse back on, kissing Abby good-bye as she ran out the door. It was Gibbs' hope that if they arrived soon enough, they might catch the firebug in action. Abby was left on the couch, bottomless, staring at the window and hoping they caught him soon.
She didn't see Kate for almost twenty-four hours. The press of evidence, the rush of Gibbs' investigation, the hurry-up-and-wait of trying to track down the arsonist's identity kept them apart. The third fire had proven the connection; all three of the deceased had been assigned to the same ship. All Gibbs had to do was figure out what had happened on the ship, who it had happened to and who might be seeking revenge.
The next time Kate saw Abby, they were in the elevator with DiNozzo, McGee and Ducky. Kate, regardless of witnesses, put her head on Abby's shoulder and closed her eyes. Abby stroked her hair gently and whispered to her. The three men said nothing, although McGee and DiNozzo exchanged a look.
On their fifth anniversary, Kate innocently called Abby passive-aggressive. The fight didn't end until they went to bed in separate apartments. Abby spent the next few days fighting the urge to go upstairs, alternating between wanting to be alone and wondering why Kate wasn't coming down to accept her apology.
Every time the elevator bell chimed, Abby hopefully moved towards it to see if it was Kate. Every time, she was forced to hide her dismay and go over another piece of the investigatory puzzle. Ducky spoke with her about her obvious melancholy, speaking at length about a girl he'd once avoided for six months until he discovered she was avoiding him, at which point he became determined to spend time with her.
Two days after their fight, Abby returned to her apartment to find black rose petals lining a path to her bedroom. Kate was sitting on the edge of the guest bed, wearing a black silk robe and holding the remnants of the black rose. Abby smiled. Kate dropped the robe and apologized. Abby was too distracted to accept with words. They made love for the first time in Abby's bed.
On their six-week anniversary, Kate wore a white silk blouse and black trousers over a lacy green teddy. She lit candles all around her apartment, put brand-new sheets on the bed, actually cooked using a recipe from Martha Stewart and had her hair done. Abby was due to arrive at 7:00.
At a quarter to, the phone rang.
Abby arrived at NCIS headquarters with her hair up, wearing a dress and a dainty chain necklace in place of her dog collar. Gibbs, Tony, Kate and McGee all wore earwigs, keeping in contact with each other. The At-Sea Social Club from the USS Princeton had one remaining member, the last one to not die in a fire.
The ASS Club, as they affectionately called themselves, specialized in hazing new recruits. The hunt for the golden rivet was their favorite game. Apparently one newcomer had been less than thrilled with their brand of humor and was exacting revenge of a bit more permanent nature.
Kate's voice came over the speakers, announcing in a loud whisper that she was at the side door, awaiting command. Abby pictured her, standing in a dark side yard, gun drawn, with a Kevlar vest over her silk blouse, covered with the NCIS Federal Agent jacket. Her hair, which she'd spent so much to form into curls, was destroyed underneath a ball cap. Her manicured fingernails had mostly likely chipped in protest as soon as she touched a gun.
The call was given and anarchy broke out.
Shouts, screams, gunfire. McGee, shouting Gibbs name. Half-spoken words, buried in static. More gunfire, a scream. Gibbs screaming, "Federal agent! Put the weapon down!"
"Gibbs!"
"Put the weapon down!"
"It's already armed!"
"McGee!"
"Kate! Kate!"
"Here!"
"DiNozzo, get..."
"Boss!"
Someone was running, but with all the feeds intertwining she couldn't tell who. The explosion forced Abby to push the earphones off. She backpedaled, staring at the computer screen as if afraid the fire would reach through the phone lines to her. Static on several of the feeds, hopefully just scrambled by the explosion and not...
Commitment is being together as long as you can be together.
"Report."
Static.
"DiNozzo, Kate, report."
Static, replies that Abby never heard. Gibbs speaking to someone nearby without a headset and then, "Find the body."
Commitment is being together as long as you can be together.
The scene was close enough that, when the fire department responded, Abby could hear the sirens outside. She backed up and hit the edge of the table, sliding down, down, down to the floor and staring at the screen.
Tony's feed was dead.
Kate's feed was dead.
Tony... Kate...
Commitment is being together as long as you can be together.
---
Kate remembered flying.
Not in any spiritual, metaphysical, 'don't-go-into-the-light' sense, but in the literal sense. The force of the explosion had lifted her off the ground and thrown her thirty yards. The only thing that stopped her flight had been the side of a Buick Century, the passenger side front door denting with the impact of her body. She'd hit the ground, her ears ringing like a fire alarm.
She stayed on the ground until the paramedics retrieved her, checking her reflexes and administering first-aid for the cuts and scrapes on her face. One of the paramedics, noting her outfit and ruined hairdo, asked, "Do all NCIS agents look this good for raids?"
She smiled weakly and told him it was their six-week anniversary tonight. The paramedic told her congratulations.
Her blouse had ripped. Her dismay at the blouse being ruined was eclipsed by her horror at realizing the brassiere of her teddy had been visible since the explosion. She closed her jacket, zipping it up and trying not to blush too ferociously.
The humiliated victim of the ASS Club had died in the explosion as he'd meant to. The Lieutenant he'd been attempting to kill had, fortunately, been spared. NCIS had moved him to a safe house well before the arsonist ever arrived. After being cleared by the paramedics and once Gibbs had made sure she was all right, she was allowed to go home. McGee drove her, commenting that he'd been horrified when he saw her flying through the air.
She thanked him for his concern, said good-night to DiNozzo - who was sprawled out in the backseat - and went upstairs to her apartment. Her back ached, her arms and legs ached, she had a migraine, her clothes were ruined, she was cut and her face stung like a million bees. She felt like she'd broken her foot, felt like her thighs were on fire, felt like maybe she did die and her body was waiting to catch up.
She opened the door to her apartment, lifelessly flopping onto the couch. She closed her eyes, staring through the window until the lights faded and she was asleep.
---
Abby moved her carefully; just a gentle lift of the arm, a roll of the shoulder, a rearrangement of her legs... nothing that would jostle her or wake her. The tub was full of hot, apple-scented bubble bath. Abby stripped Kate on the couch, undressing her and laying the discarded clothes to the side. Once she was naked, Abby lifted and carried Kate down the hall to the bathroom.
Kate only stirred when her feet sank into the water. She clutched Abby's collar, gasping and opening her eyes wide. "What...?"
"It's okay," Abby whispered, pressing her lips against Kate's temple.
Kate relaxed and allowed herself to be lowered, allowed herself to drown. Her head rested at the curve of the tub, eyelids drifting shut, lips parting as the water pressed in and pulled back at the same time. Every pore open, Kate felt like she could breathe again. Abby rolled up her sleeve, pushing her hand under the bubbles and finding Kate's slick thigh.
"Happy anniversary," Abby whispered, touching Kate, stroking her under the water. Kate gasped and licked her lips, rearranging herself. Fingers inside of her, she gripped the edge of the tub and came far earlier than she'd anticipated, biting her bottom lip, exhaling in release. Abby removed her hand and stood up. Kate watched as she undressed, first picturing each exposed body part in her mind and then letting reality improve upon her memory.
Abby slipped into the bubbles and turned her back to Kate, sliding back against her. Kate wrapped her arms around Abby's shoulders, kissing the back of her neck and moving her hands between Abby's thighs. Abby pressed harder against her as Kate's fingers moved over and then inside of her pussy. When Abby came, Kate bit down on her earlobe and whispered, "I love you."
"I love you, too," Abby promised.
Abby was again reminded that commitment is being together as long as you can be together. However long it is. However long it can be.
Only now was she beginning to realize all the time in the world might not be enough. Both satisfied, both letting the bubble bath relax every muscle in their bodies, Kate whispered, "Happy six-week anniversary."
Abby smiled. "Happy six-week anniversary."