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“By the time I caught up to him, Christopher had the perp handcuffed to the last float in the parade. At least half the women in the crowd and probably more than a few young men were throwing their beads at him. I think if I’d arrived a minute later he would have been on one of the floats; as it was he took a bow before going to get the truck.”
Gibbs wasn’t surprised to smell food when he opened the front door; after all Dwayne Pride had gotten almost an hour head start and the man knew his way around a kitchen well enough to have job security if he ever left NCIS and needed a new career. What did surprise him what that his friend wasn’t alone. He couldn’t imagine who Pride would have invited over; he’d only been in town for a few hours. He also had his own set of manners that generally wouldn’t include inviting someone over to another person’s house.
“The first time someone threw beads at me it was not because I made an arrest.” The husky laugh answered his unasked question before he reached the kitchen.
“Abbs?” She was sitting on the counter in his kitchen, a glass next to her that definitely wasn’t Caf-pow. Dwayne, as expected, stood at the stove with a spoon in one hand.
“Hey Gibbs. I hope you don’t mind me crashing your dinner but Dwayne mentioned gumbo earlier and there’s no place in DC that gets it right.” She closed her eyes and took a breath deep enough to make her chest rise and fall. “Smells like home.”
“It’s step one of my devious plan to convince you to move back to Jefferson Parish, Abigail. Still looking for someone to move into Sebastian’s lab now that he’s in the field.” Pride tugged on one of Abby’s pigtails before turning his attention to the bread on the counter next to her. Gibbs was glad his back was turned. He was almost positive that Pride was joking, but that tiny bit of doubt had his gut twisted into knots. Abby had been in DC for more than fifteen years, but she still called New Orleans home. What if someday the homesickness was too much? Pride’s two man operation was one thing, but he was running a full office now. Abby’s skills wouldn’t be uncalled for down there.
“You’re always welcome here, Abbs.” She was more than just welcome, she was wanted, but that wasn’t something he could say. It was enough that she knew she could ‘crash’ when she wanted or seek sanctuary when it was needed. “Can I get anyone a beer?”
“I wouldn’t say no.” The bread went into the oven on a tray; it was probably the first time the oven had been used since the last time his friend had visited. He used the stove on occasion, the microwave more often.
“Dwayne made me some sweet tea, so I’m good.” Abby held up her cup. “Would you like a sip?”
He already knew it wasn’t something he liked, but she was holding it out to him and their fingers brushed when he took the cup from her. Their lips touched the same place on the glass. “How you’ve avoided getting diabetes between this and the Caf-Pow! I’ll never understand.”
“Good genetics and eating a lot of vegetables.” Abby took her cup back, leaning her head back to take a long sip. “It’s been too long since I’ve have a real glass of sweet tea. Last summer Luka sent some to me by overnight express because it was over 100 degrees in August.”
“That brother of yours should have sent himself overnight express, boo. It’d do you both some good to see each other more often.” Dwayne accepted the beer Gibbs handed him, using the edge of the counter to take off the top. “Dinner’ll be ready in about ten minutes. Don’t disappear into that basement of yours, Jethro.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He took a long drag of his beer, washing away the sickly sweetness of the tea, before opening a cabinet and taking out three bowls. From the silverware drawer he got out spoons. It was easy work to set the table for three. Just as easy to sit around the table eating gumbo and garlic bread with two people who were on the very short list of people he could completely relax around. Dinner dishes were cleared for a friendly game of cards, and it was after ten when Abby commented that it was a work night and she’d better be heading home.
“Wouldn’t want my boss to chide me for staying out too late partying,” she teased as she gathered up the cards. She hugged them both, thanking Dwayne for the meal and Gibbs for letting her hang out.
“Call me when you get home so I know you got there,” Gibbs ordered when he walked her to the door. Her car, thank goodness, was better than the old hearse she used to drive that had broken down too often, but it was still late and there was no one waiting at home for her.
“You don’t have to worry so much.” She kissed his cheek before leaving. He stood in the open doorway until he saw her pull away from the curb.
“It’s a good thing we weren’t playing for money, Jethro. She’d have wiped us both out. That brain of hers is something else.” Dwayne had been over often enough that he knew where to find blankets and a pillow for the couch.
“I’ve never met anyone as smart as she is.” McGee might come close, and watching the two of them working together was often a bewildering experience, but Abby was still the smartest person he’d ever known. “Find your own lab tech, D. You can’t have mine.”
“I’d take her in a hot minute if she ever wanted to transfer but keeping an employee, even one as good as Abigail, isn’t what’s worrying you.” They’d had two beers apiece with dinner, not enough to get even a buzz, but apparently Dwayne had been down to the basement at some point. He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, returning with two glasses and a half empty bottle of bourbon.
“I’m not worried.” Gibbs accepted the glass and sat on the end of the couch not covered in folded blankets.
“I saw your face when I teased Abby about Sebastian’s old job, and I’m not blind.”
“She’s part of my team.” Losing Tony had been hard for all of them to adjust to. Abby leaving would be even harder for everyone, not just him. He was thinking of his team. The fact that just thinking about it was like a punch to the gut just meant he cared about his friend.
“You know it’s been more than two years and I still wake up some mornings expecting to find Linda in my bed. It’s hard enough, not having her in my life but at least I know she’s safe and happy. And no matter how much it hurt when things ended, even if I knew what would happen I’d do it all over again.”
“I was sorry to hear about the two of you.” He didn’t know many people that were able to make a marriage work, not surrounded by agents and soldiers like he was. Dwayne’s marriage had been a rare one, sometimes painfully reminding him of what he’d had with Shannon, and hadn’t had with anyone after she’d died.
“So was I, but it’s what Linda needed. Too many years of being a cop’s wife, too much worry. Maybe if I’d retired I could have saved things but I couldn’t walk away from my city.” Dwayne swirled the bourbon in his glass before taking a sip. Gibbs had wanted to escape the town where he was born since he was fourteen, and while he was where he wanted to be he held no particular love for DC. He’d never quite been able to understand the passion and love his friend had for his city. It was a powerful thing, though, without question. Abby spoke of the city with the same love. Maybe it was a New Orleans thing. “As much as I might wish differently, though, I know all we have now is friendship and our daughter.”
“You trying to make a point, Dwayne?” He regretted the question the moment he asked it. The corner of Dwayne’s mouth turned up.
“I saw you with the all three of your exes. Hell, I was in two of the weddings, and I know how you looked at them.” Dwayne took a moment to sip at his bourbon. “You never looked at any of them the way you look at Abby. You’re in love with her.”
“Of course I love Abby. She’s family.” It wasn’t a lie. An omission, but not a lie. Her friendship and her place in the family he’d created for himself was too important to risk After three explosive failures that made it to the altar and others that didn’t he’d given up on even trying. Better to focus on the job, something he’d already explained to his friend. And better to keep the people that mattered in his life, rather than risking one more crash and burn.
“Alright then.” Gibbs was suspicious when Dwayne seemed to give up easily. “If you’re certain about that then you don’t mind if I ask her out on a date. I didn’t want to risk stepping on your toes.”
“What?” Thankfully he’d already swallowed his sip of bourbon. He really wanted to say ‘no way in hell.’ Then again, why censor himself? “Hell no.”
“Why not? Is she seeing anyone right now?”
“Not that I know of.” She didn’t tell him about every date, but ever since that bastard Mawher she let him know if she was serious about anyone. He needed to know she was safe, but it was a curse to have to hear about it.
“Well I always have fun when she’s around, and you know I’d treat her right, that’s a plus isn’t it? She understands the job; I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you how important that can be. And she likes my cooking.” Dwayne, the bastard, was smirking. “And it’s not like you’re interested, right? I mean she’s family, practically a sister or something right?”
“You live in Louisiana and you both spend too much time working to commute,” Gibbs tried to shrug it off. Sister? Not even in the early days would he have called Abby that. And despite what a few people might think she wasn’t a daughter either.
“Maybe it’s time she visits her family a bit more. And I seem to wind up here more often than I used to. We could make it work.” Gibbs wanted to curse at Dwayne, who was resting far too casually against the pile of bedding behind him. Dwayne and Abby had been friends even longer than Gibbs had known his forensic tech. Had he missed something happening between them?
“Is this really something you want?” He tried to remember the last time Abby had told him about anyone she was seriously interested in. It had been a couple of years since the Park Police Sergeant. He might have sworn off anyone serious but that didn’t mean she should. She wasn’t the one who had been married 4 times, and she was still young. He was being selfish.
Dwayne looked at him for a long moment. “What I want is what’s best for Abby. And what’s best for you, though you’re twice as stubborn and carry four times the baggage. Tell me honestly, Gibbs, what’s your gut say about how you feel about Abby? Forget your rules, forget the job, forget everything else. Is she really just a member of your team?”
“The rules exist for a reason.” Things got messy at work when you dated a coworker. He’d seen it too often and experienced it himself.
“So the idea of me and Abby having sex wouldn’t bother…” Dwayne was sprawled on the living room floor, his hand pressed to his jaw, before Gibbs even realized he’d made a fist. Despite the right hook that had knocked him over the man was laughing.
“Fuck.” He held out his hand, an offer to help Dwayne up. He was too busy still laughing to react right away.
“Tell me again how she’s just family, m’ brother.” After a beat he accepted the hand up, his free hand coming to rest on Gibbs’ shoulder. “Screw your rules, Jethro, just this once. Love is better for the heart than regret.”
“Let me get some ice for you.” He needed a minute to himself. Or a few hours. Days. Damn it, not even Ducky had dared do more than make vague suggestions about his relationship with Abby, and Ducky knew exactly how he felt thanks to a bad case and far too much to drink a few years back.
“Not necessary. I’ve done worse to myself while shaving.” Dwayne waved him off. “I think you’re forgetting something important in all this.”
He wasn’t going to give Dwayne Pride the satisfaction of asking what he meant. He really wasn’t. “What?”
“You can deny the fact that you’re in love with Abby, but it’s just as important to remember that Abby’s in love with you. Doesn’t she deserve to get what she wants?”
“She’s not…”
“You’re not a stupid man, Jethro. Don’t pretend like you can’t see what’s right in front of you every day.” Dwayne threw back the rest of his bourbon. “You know how rare it is, to have someone love you so much that they only want what’s best for you. Doesn’t Abby deserve that?”
“You’re a bastard, you know that?” He grabbed the bourbon bottle, eying the door down to the basement.
“I’ll have you know my parents were married when I was born, thank you very much.” Dwayne grinned. “Go on, you know you need time to yourself to work out just how right I am. Go sand things, or whatever it is you do down in the basement.”
“I…” His phone rang; a glance at the display told him it was Abby calling. He nodded at Dwayne before answering. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“That click you just heard is my door locking, Gibbs, with me inside. You can stop worrying now.” Abby’s laugh was warm and husky, familiar enough that he should be inured to it after so many years. Thanks to Pride he was all too aware of the flutter in his gut. He sat on the step halfway down the basement stairs and stared at his boat.
“You’re home pretty quick. Foot a little heavy tonight?” He fought to push aside his abruptly ended conversation with Dwayne. It was late and he was just a little buzzed from the bourbon. The last thing he needed was to blurt out something he couldn’t take back.
“Is this the pot calling, or the kettle?” She laughed again, and he could hear water beginning to run. Washing something, or was Abby about to take a bath? Crap, the last thing he needed was to think about her in a tub, warm water making her pale skin turn pink, bubbles clinging to her tattoos. He’d better assume it was dishes left in the sink before he started imagining a bathroom full of steam that smelled like Abby.
“Yeah, well only one of us is trained in tactical driving.” He looked at the bottle in his hand, but resisted taking a swig.
“Driving in New Orleans during Mardi Gras is basically the same thing, and I’ve been doing that since I was thirteen.” There was the slightest of pauses. “I could show you sometime.”
“I’ve seen you driving, Abbs.” He leaned back against the cool basement wall. Dwayne’s words echoed in his head. Just how certain was he about what Abby was feeling?
“Not my driving, Gibbs. Mardi Gras. McGee went down last year, and you don’t want him to know more about something than you do, right? We could meet up with King’s, and Luka of course. It’s been a couple of years since we’ve been in Louisiana at the same time.” The running water in the background became silent; was it enough time to fill a tub?
“McGee went down for a case,” he felt it necessary to point out.
“I’m sure Dwayne can find a case for us to consult on. Or there’s this thing called vacation time; pretty sure you have at least a few days accrued.”
“Now who’s the pot?” Abby was no better about taking time off than he was. If anything she was worse, territorial about anyone else being in her lab.
“Exactly. You’d be looking out for me, making sure I took some time off. We’d make sure Dwayne took some time off too, and drag Luka out of the kitchen for a few hours. It would be a chain reaction of self care, Gibbs, all started by you.”
“You should definitely head down there. Your brother would love to see you.” Dwayne would be more than happy to keep her entertained as well. Had he just been trying to make a point earlier, or would he step in if Gibbs stepped back?
“Yeah. Maybe.” She sounded less enthusiastic than only a moment ago. More tired. “I was just letting you know I was home. Tell Dwayne I said thank you for dinner again, and say goodnight to the boat for me.”
“Abbs…” He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, if he wanted to make a promise, or explain.
“I was just teasing, Gibbs. We’ll probably have a case, anyway.” Just teasing. He wondered how often she had hidden behind teasing when really she wanted more. How many times had he disappointed her in not understanding what she was trying to tell him?
“D’s making breakfast in the morning. Why don’t you come over and have something to eat? Mardi Gras’ only a few weeks away, if we’re going to try and work things out we should make some plans.” It didn’t mean he’d changed his mind about breaking rule twelve. He couldn’t help thinking about it, though.
“Really?” The excitement was back in her voice, and he couldn’t help grinning. There was little that made him happier than being able to make Abby happy. Unfortunately the reverse was true; hurting Abby would hurt him more than anything had since losing Shannon and Kelly. The question Dwayne had forced on him, though, was what would hurt Abby more, being with her or not letting her be with him?
“I’ll see you at oh-eight hundred, Abbs.”
“It’s a date.” She couldn’t have a clue how ‘date’ echoed in his head after she said it. It had been years since he’d allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to ask her on a date.
“Night.” He waited for the soft click before ending the call, slipping the phone into his pocket. He descended the rest of the stairs, bourbon still in one hand, and grabbed a piece of sandpaper.
It was after midnight when he headed upstairs. Dwayne was asleep on the couch; Gibbs winced when he noticed the purpling of the bruise on his jaw. Abby was going to see it, but Gibbs had no doubt that Dwayne would weave a not quite true story about how it had happened. Dwayne was also going to gloat about breakfast and plans for a trip to New Orleans. Smug bastard.
“If she ends up hurt I’ll do worse than a bruise,” Gibbs muttered before tuning for the stairs. The truth was that if Abby got hurt because he listened to Dwayne he’d be far too busy beating himself up to spare any time for his friend.
He was on his fifth cup of coffee when Abby arrived in the morning, trying to make up for a restless night spent going over things in his head. Dwayne was at the stove, stirring a pot of grits. When he looked like he was going to say something Gibbs glarred. “Don’t.”
“Not a word to her, Jethro. Only this one last thing to you; I think you’re the one person in the world that has the greatest ability to make her happy, and she deserves to be happy. So do you.” His eyes grew serious, and held onto Gibbs for a moment before he turned back to the food. “Breakfast will be ready in five minutes.”
Gibbs went to let Abby in.