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ncisficathonTitle: Driven Back to You
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
squeelated
Written for: Exactly who I would’ve chosen to write for,liannis
Archive: Sure. Please tell me.
Pairings: Abby/McGee
Rating: Safe for all
Spoilers: Driven
Disclaimer: Warranty only valid in Turks & Caicos. Actual value 1/1,000,000th of a cent. Offer not available on leap days. Characters in this story may be cooler than they appear.
Perfunctory Statement of Desire Not to Be Sued: I don’t own the characters, don’t make a profit, yadda yadda. Thank you, CBS, for letting us play with your toys.
Word Count: 1154
Grateful Thanks: my expert betas,pixie_on_acid, and daisycm83. (Christi, you were right, but my brain rebelled about how to rework some details, and in the interest of time...)
Summary: from the prompt “Tim/Abby post-Driven. He realizes he still loves her and tells her he wants her back. How that turns out, up to you.”
Driven Back to You
There was a time when Timothy McGee was easily frightened. When he first became a field agent, he lived with his heart in his throat and his pulse pounding like a jackhammer. Fear was his constant state of being. In those early days, the only time he relaxed was when he was alone with Abby. Late at night, when the case was closed and the paperwork done, he'd knock on her door and feel a sense of relief wash over him. He didn't have to be Special Agent McGee, he could just be Tim and that was good enough.
Funny how times have changed.
Right now, Tim would rather be chasing a serial-killing park ranger through a bear-infested forest, or tracking down the owner of a detached pair of eyeballs rolling around in a box. He'd rather be pulling dead bodies out of germ-infested public bathrooms, or getting interrogated by Metro P.D. He'd rather be crawling through poison ivy naked, or even facing an angry Gibbs. Instead, he is standing outside this door, wondering if being 'just Tim' can possibly be good enough.
He has very nearly decided to leave when the door opens. Abby crosses her arms over her chest. "How long have you been standing there?"
"How did you know I was here?" he asks, startled.
She grabs his arm and tugs him into her apartment. "I've been hearing this strange sighing noise for the last ten minutes. I thought one of the A/C ducts in the hallway must have sprung a leak."
"I, ummm...." Now that he's here, he's at a loss for words. He has no idea how to convey what he's feeling - what he's been feeling since he almost lost her.
"It's alright, Timmy." She pats his arm consolingly. "I know why you're here."
"You do?" She couldn't possibly, could she? But this is Abby, and he's learned to believe anything is possible for her.
She throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tight, then pulls back a little to look him in the eye. "I'm fine, really. Ducky checked me out, and he's sure that, other than a slight headache, I'm not going to have any problems from the carbon monoxide. Okay?"
Tim manages a wan smile. "I'm glad to hear it, Abs. But that's not why I'm here."
"No?" she asks.
She looks so cute when she's confused that Tim can't help but smile for real this time. "No."
He gently removes her arms from around his neck and leads her by the hand to the couch. They sit, her hand still in his, and she looks at him expectantly. He can't find the words.
How can he explain what it felt like to realize she could have died today? How can he explain that what terrified him was not just losing her, but losing a possibility? He'd always thought there would be time for them to work things out; he'd always believed they could have another chance if they wanted one. Now he realizes he's just been wasting precious time.
As the silence stretches out between them, Abby begins to frown nervously. "Tim, you're scaring me. What's wrong? Is it Tony? Did you find out something about those tests he had done?"
"What? No." It is McGee's turn to be confused. "What tests?"
"Ziva said he had some tests," Abby says dismissively, moving on to new speculation. "Is it Gibbs? Ducky? What's wrong?"
Tim squeezes her hand reassuringly. "It's nothing like that, Abby. Everyone is fine."
Abby shoves him with her free hand, still clinging to his with the other. "Don't scare me like that."
"Sorry," he says automatically. He stares down at their hands, joined together on his lap, at her knee touching his. The natural closeness between them gives him courage. "I love you, Abby."
"I love you, too, Tim." Though he's not looking, he can hear the affectionate smile in her voice and knows she doesn't understand.
He makes himself look her in the eye. "No, I mean, I still love you. I'm still in love with you."
To his surprise, Abby leans in and kisses his cheek, then rests her head on his shoulder. He puts his free arm around her shoulders. "I almost died today," she says, but it's clear she means something else. She believes that is all this means, that he just feels guilty.
He sighs. "That's not what this is about."
"It is," she replies with calm certainty. "You just don't know it yet."
He stares at nothing for a minute, trying to collect his thoughts. "You don't give me enough credit, Abby. Just because I have a difficult time expressing what I'm feeling sometimes doesn't mean I don't know what my feelings are."
She pats his leg thoughtfully. "An interesting hypothesis, McGee. But there's one flaw in that theory: you're a man."
"And that means I'm incapable of knowing my own heart?"
"Pretty much." She looks up at him over her shoulder, still snuggled under his arm. "It's not your fault. It's basic physiology. You're just wired that way."
McGee runs his thumb lightly across her cheek. He sees that she won't believe him and that's frustrating as hell, but ironically, that reassures him that she's wrong about him. He knows exactly what he's feeling and he knows that it's real. "What is it going to take to convince you?"
"I don't know." She studies his face carefully. "And even if I was sure, does this really change anything? We ended things for a reason."
"And what was that again?"
She hesitates, and he starts to laugh, realizing that she doesn't really know either. Suddenly, a lot of his worry dissipates – if she can’t think of a good reason, maybe he’s still got a chance.
“It’s not funny, Timothy.” She swats him again, but she’s laughing too. “There was a reason.”
“Well, maybe that reason isn’t important anymore,” he suggests. Abby looks away; his fears begin to resurface but he forces himself to face them. “How do you feel about me, Abby?”
“I love you, you know that. But I’m not sure I’m ready for things to be more than that right now.”
McGee finds himself holding his breath as he asks, “Right now?”
“You’ve got to admit, your timing is a cause for concern. Let’s see how you feel after we manage to go a few weeks without either of us having a near death experience.”
Smiling, Tim kisses the top of her head. “That could be a while.”
“Then you’ll have to be patient,” she concludes, reaching across Tim for the remote control on the end table. She snuggles closer and turns on the TV, switching to Discovery Science. “In the meantime, you’re going to have to stay right where you are, because you make a really good pillow.”
He tugs gently on one of her pigtails. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
The End
Author:
squeelatedWritten for: Exactly who I would’ve chosen to write for,
liannisArchive: Sure. Please tell me.
Pairings: Abby/McGee
Rating: Safe for all
Spoilers: Driven
Disclaimer: Warranty only valid in Turks & Caicos. Actual value 1/1,000,000th of a cent. Offer not available on leap days. Characters in this story may be cooler than they appear.
Perfunctory Statement of Desire Not to Be Sued: I don’t own the characters, don’t make a profit, yadda yadda. Thank you, CBS, for letting us play with your toys.
Word Count: 1154
Grateful Thanks: my expert betas,
pixie_on_acid, and daisycm83. (Christi, you were right, but my brain rebelled about how to rework some details, and in the interest of time...)Summary: from the prompt “Tim/Abby post-Driven. He realizes he still loves her and tells her he wants her back. How that turns out, up to you.”
There was a time when Timothy McGee was easily frightened. When he first became a field agent, he lived with his heart in his throat and his pulse pounding like a jackhammer. Fear was his constant state of being. In those early days, the only time he relaxed was when he was alone with Abby. Late at night, when the case was closed and the paperwork done, he'd knock on her door and feel a sense of relief wash over him. He didn't have to be Special Agent McGee, he could just be Tim and that was good enough.
Funny how times have changed.
Right now, Tim would rather be chasing a serial-killing park ranger through a bear-infested forest, or tracking down the owner of a detached pair of eyeballs rolling around in a box. He'd rather be pulling dead bodies out of germ-infested public bathrooms, or getting interrogated by Metro P.D. He'd rather be crawling through poison ivy naked, or even facing an angry Gibbs. Instead, he is standing outside this door, wondering if being 'just Tim' can possibly be good enough.
He has very nearly decided to leave when the door opens. Abby crosses her arms over her chest. "How long have you been standing there?"
"How did you know I was here?" he asks, startled.
She grabs his arm and tugs him into her apartment. "I've been hearing this strange sighing noise for the last ten minutes. I thought one of the A/C ducts in the hallway must have sprung a leak."
"I, ummm...." Now that he's here, he's at a loss for words. He has no idea how to convey what he's feeling - what he's been feeling since he almost lost her.
"It's alright, Timmy." She pats his arm consolingly. "I know why you're here."
"You do?" She couldn't possibly, could she? But this is Abby, and he's learned to believe anything is possible for her.
She throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tight, then pulls back a little to look him in the eye. "I'm fine, really. Ducky checked me out, and he's sure that, other than a slight headache, I'm not going to have any problems from the carbon monoxide. Okay?"
Tim manages a wan smile. "I'm glad to hear it, Abs. But that's not why I'm here."
"No?" she asks.
She looks so cute when she's confused that Tim can't help but smile for real this time. "No."
He gently removes her arms from around his neck and leads her by the hand to the couch. They sit, her hand still in his, and she looks at him expectantly. He can't find the words.
How can he explain what it felt like to realize she could have died today? How can he explain that what terrified him was not just losing her, but losing a possibility? He'd always thought there would be time for them to work things out; he'd always believed they could have another chance if they wanted one. Now he realizes he's just been wasting precious time.
As the silence stretches out between them, Abby begins to frown nervously. "Tim, you're scaring me. What's wrong? Is it Tony? Did you find out something about those tests he had done?"
"What? No." It is McGee's turn to be confused. "What tests?"
"Ziva said he had some tests," Abby says dismissively, moving on to new speculation. "Is it Gibbs? Ducky? What's wrong?"
Tim squeezes her hand reassuringly. "It's nothing like that, Abby. Everyone is fine."
Abby shoves him with her free hand, still clinging to his with the other. "Don't scare me like that."
"Sorry," he says automatically. He stares down at their hands, joined together on his lap, at her knee touching his. The natural closeness between them gives him courage. "I love you, Abby."
"I love you, too, Tim." Though he's not looking, he can hear the affectionate smile in her voice and knows she doesn't understand.
He makes himself look her in the eye. "No, I mean, I still love you. I'm still in love with you."
To his surprise, Abby leans in and kisses his cheek, then rests her head on his shoulder. He puts his free arm around her shoulders. "I almost died today," she says, but it's clear she means something else. She believes that is all this means, that he just feels guilty.
He sighs. "That's not what this is about."
"It is," she replies with calm certainty. "You just don't know it yet."
He stares at nothing for a minute, trying to collect his thoughts. "You don't give me enough credit, Abby. Just because I have a difficult time expressing what I'm feeling sometimes doesn't mean I don't know what my feelings are."
She pats his leg thoughtfully. "An interesting hypothesis, McGee. But there's one flaw in that theory: you're a man."
"And that means I'm incapable of knowing my own heart?"
"Pretty much." She looks up at him over her shoulder, still snuggled under his arm. "It's not your fault. It's basic physiology. You're just wired that way."
McGee runs his thumb lightly across her cheek. He sees that she won't believe him and that's frustrating as hell, but ironically, that reassures him that she's wrong about him. He knows exactly what he's feeling and he knows that it's real. "What is it going to take to convince you?"
"I don't know." She studies his face carefully. "And even if I was sure, does this really change anything? We ended things for a reason."
"And what was that again?"
She hesitates, and he starts to laugh, realizing that she doesn't really know either. Suddenly, a lot of his worry dissipates – if she can’t think of a good reason, maybe he’s still got a chance.
“It’s not funny, Timothy.” She swats him again, but she’s laughing too. “There was a reason.”
“Well, maybe that reason isn’t important anymore,” he suggests. Abby looks away; his fears begin to resurface but he forces himself to face them. “How do you feel about me, Abby?”
“I love you, you know that. But I’m not sure I’m ready for things to be more than that right now.”
McGee finds himself holding his breath as he asks, “Right now?”
“You’ve got to admit, your timing is a cause for concern. Let’s see how you feel after we manage to go a few weeks without either of us having a near death experience.”
Smiling, Tim kisses the top of her head. “That could be a while.”
“Then you’ll have to be patient,” she concludes, reaching across Tim for the remote control on the end table. She snuggles closer and turns on the TV, switching to Discovery Science. “In the meantime, you’re going to have to stay right where you are, because you make a really good pillow.”
He tugs gently on one of her pigtails. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
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