Click for Printer Friendly Version

Cold Coffee

by: Chirugal (Send Feedback)

Series: - No Series - #1
Chapters: 003 Word Count: 11441
Rating: ADULT
Warning(s): BDSM, Kink
Character(s): Jethro Gibbs, Abby Sciuto
Category(ies): Humor, PWP, Romance
Pairing(s): Gibbs/Abby
Episode(s): 2-20 Red Cell
Summary: Post 'Red Cell', Abby can't sleep for hearing five little words...

Author Notes: Set just after Red Cell, late season 2. Written from Abby's perspective, so it kind of only works if you get right into her head and do the voice and everything. xD

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

Next Chapter


Tell Abby I want her.

The phrase keeps going round and round in my head, whirling and echoing so loudly that there’s no way I can sleep. This is ridiculous. Gibbs was talking about work, obviously. He was pissed at McGee when he said it, for starters – if he actually meant it in the way I wish he meant it, he wouldn’t have sounded so angry. Who am I kidding? If he meant it in that way, he wouldn’t have even said it.

It’s four forty-five in the morning when I finally admit defeat and get out of bed, muttering obscenities as I head for the shower. I figure I might as well catch up on some paperwork while I’m awake – with Gibbs breathing down my neck for lab results all day, I’m getting a little behind. Hmm, Gibbs breathing down my neck. That’s a good thought. No! Bad thought. God, Abby, this is really hinky. You’re not usually such a slave to your hormones.

I shower and get dressed, singing every song that comes into my head to keep any errant Gibbs-related ideas at bay, and then leave the house, choosing to walk to work rather than drive. It’s not far, and it’s a warm night. I know I shouldn’t strictly be walking alone in the dark – who better than me knows about the sickos roaming the streets? – but I like to think I’m Goth enough to scare off any predators. Plus, I have this kick-ass knife that McGee got me for my birthday last year…

There are a few truckers around, but mostly everyone’s still asleep. Now, why couldn’t I be that sensible? Oh, yeah… I’m majorly crushing on Gibbs. Geez, why am I making such a big deal out of one tiny comment? Tomorrow, I swear, he’s gonna walk into the lab, and I’m just gonna lose my voice. Gibbs won’t get why, but Tony… Tony definitely will. Would he tell Gibbs? I don’t think he would… Nah, more likely Gibbs would try to talk to me about it, make me tell him what’s wrong. What would I say to him, though?

God, I need caffeine. Trust me to pick the one time of day when the stores are all shut. I walk past the coffee place with the Caf-Pow!s, shooting a longing glance through the darkened window. I’ll have to make do with the crap they call coffee in the NCIS building. There’s a reason none of us drink it – it smells like tar and tastes worse.

Here we are, home, sweet home. I nod to the guys on night security, and they don’t even bat an eyelid. This isn’t the first time I’ve come in at a weird hour, and probably won’t be the last. Most nights, though, I’m here for a better reason than insomnia. I wonder if I can claim overtime for this?

I cross the minimally-lit foyer, heading for the bank of elevators and hitting the call button. Instantly the doors slide open, and I step inside the confined space, my fingers hovering over the button that will take me to my lab.

Tell Abby I want her.

My traitorous thumb presses the button for the third floor, where Gibbs and the rest of the team work. I know he won’t be there – wouldn’t go there if he was – but if my stupid gut has forced me out of bed and all the way here, I might as well follow it a little longer. The elevator lurches upward and halts at its destination with a ping that seems deafening in the silence.

Gibbs’ desk lamp is on. Is he here? Why would he be here? Why am I freaking out so much? It’s only Gibbs, after all. He’s gonna think something’s wrong a whole lot faster if you jump back into the elevator now, so start walking. Swallowing as much of my apprehension as I can, I force one foot in front of the other, making a beeline for the dim light that struggles to illuminate the large, open-plan office.

By the time I get around the corner, I can see he’s not there. Phew, that was a close one. He must’ve forgotten to switch off the light when he left. My panic abating, I drop into his empty chair, staring at the ordered clutter that’s strewn around his desk. He always seems to know where everything is – once a Marine, always a Marine, I guess.

It’s kinda comforting to be sitting here. He’s not around, but I can kind of feel his aura. Yeah, yeah, girl of science and all that jazz, but not everything can be explained by equations. Sitting here right now, I feel protected, like Gibbs is standing right behind me.

Oh, shit, he’s not, is he? I spin in the chair, knowing I’m being totally irrational but not able to help myself. Of course he’s not. It’s like five-fifteen, and he’s in bed like every other sane person who works here. And I’m just making myself crazy by sitting here.

I get up and snap off the lamp, plunging the entire room into darkness, but my night vision’s good. I manage to get back to the elevator with no problem at all. I press the button for the lab, wishing Ducky was here. If I’m gonna tell anyone about this Gibbs thing, Ducky’ll be the one. Kate and Tony would laugh, and McGee would just be weird about it. But Ducky’s so British, he’d keep quiet. Well, after he related it back to six stories from when he was in college or something. He won’t be in for a while yet, though – his mom’s going through a bad patch lately. Maybe he’ll stop by the lab before I see Gibbs. I hope.

Once I’m in my lab, I can get on the net, chat to some friends, forget about this whole thing. By the time everyone gets in, I’ll have forgotten how good it feels when Gibbs smiles at me, the feel of his fingers brushing mine when he hands me a Caf-Pow!...

Sighing, I collapse back against the wall, knowing I’m not going to forget any such thing. “I’m so screwed,” I mutter to myself as the doors slide open.

The lab lights are on. Okay, I must be really cracking up. I could’ve sworn I switched them off when I left last night. Then again, I was kinda preoccupied. For a second, I wonder whether there’s an intruder in the lab, but security was just upgraded. After that incident with Ari in autopsy, we put new measures in place. Everything’s overhauled every couple of weeks. Nah, can’t be anyone unauthorised. Must just be me.

I shake off my foreboding and head into the lab, which is deserted, just like I thoug… Oh, my god.

Gibbs has just come out of my office. I stare at him, my mind going completely blank. He stares back at me. He has one hand on his gun, and he looks totally guilty, but really hot too, in a just-woke-up kind of way. Oh, wait. I should probably be saying something instead of drooling.

“Gibbs? What’re you doing here?” That was way too uptight. I try to relax and smile, but I get the feeling it comes out more like a grimace. I’m so not ready to have this conversation!

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answers, in that low, husky voice he has. He’s gotten his emotions under control and now he’s just giving me the same impassive stare as he does his suspects, which really pisses me off. Gibbs never looks that way at me; besides, it’s him who was sneaking around my office! Oh, wait, I guess I already snuck around his. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s here, now, before I’m ready!

“I couldn’t sleep and I need to catch up on some paperwork,” I tell him, which is the truth. Except I sound really angry about it. “Were you going through my stuff?”

Gibbs just runs a weary hand through his hair and doesn’t say anything. I kinda feel bad for him. He looks like he needs a hug… this is so not Gibbs’ style. Oh, god, he could have a brain tumour. What if he has a brain tumour? “What’s up? You’re scaring me.”

He walks to my lab bench and sits in my chair. I stay where I am, trying to puzzle out the situation. And here I was worrying I’d be acting weird today. “I was looking for the lab report on Petty Officer Davidson.”

“It’s on your desk,” I say, without thinking. Shit, I wasn’t supposed to know that. I gave it to Tony, and he could have put it anywhere. “I mean…”

Gibbs frowns at me. “You’re holding out on me, Abs.” Each syllable snaps out as an accusation, and I can’t stop myself from wincing. I open my mouth to reply, but I can’t think of anything to say. He transfixes me with those furious blue eyes of his and tells me, “You don’t get to hold out on me.”

Stung, I concentrate on the only safe emotion I can get hold of: anger. “What, are you my Dom now?” Damnit, shouldn’t have said that either. Now all I can think about is Gibbs tying me up and giving me orders. Am I blushing? “I’m sorry. I just… really need caffeine.”

I really need to kiss him, more than anything in the world. If I look at him, I know I’ll just snap and jump into his lap or something, so I keep my eyes on the floor, and try to ignore the prickling sensation that’s coursing through my entire body. So I almost miss it when he says, ‘Here.” So quiet I can hardly hear it.

I take a deep breath and look up. Gibbs is offering me a half-empty coffee cup – he must have brought it in with him. All the anger seems to have left him, and he’s smiling at me like he usually does… just the barest amused upturn of his lips.

I reach out and take the coffee, realising immediately that it’s long since gone cold. When I can’t get to the Caf-Pow!, I get coffee and wait for it to go cold before I drink it. And Gibbs remembered. “Thanks.” I’m smiling, he’s smiling. We’re so bipolar today!

The coffee is strong and bitter… kinda like Gibbs, come to think of it. I take a big gulp and then set it down on the counter behind me. When I turn around, my eyes catch his, and I coulda sworn… “Gibbs, were you just checking out my ass?”

Tell Abby I want her. Maybe, just maybe…

Gibbs rolls his eyes and stands up. “I’m gonna go look over that report. Let me know when the ballistics are through.”

“Aye aye, Gunny!” I’d usually get a reprimand for that, but he doesn’t look back as he leaves the lab, and now I’m checking out his ass. And then he’s gone, and I’m flopping into the chair he vacated because my knees have turned to jelly.

That… could’ve gone better. Did I really say the word ‘Dom’ to Gibbs? Argh! But then again, he didn’t force me to tell him what I was thinking. Even though I still have no idea what he was doing in here in the first place.

This coffee is really good, though. I take another swig of it, trying to calm myself down and figure out how I’m gonna act around him for the rest of the day. I definitely need to avoid Tony if I can, or I’ll never hear the end of it.

I turned off Gibbs’ desk lamp. Crap! He’s gonna know I was there. Wait. Is that… footsteps?

Gibbs strides back into the lab, his eyes alight with something I can’t even identify. I should ask him what’s going on, but my brain won’t let me form the words. With one hand, he takes the coffee from me, slamming it down on the counter. With the other, he’s pulling me to my feet, roughly, but steadying me as I stumble. “Look at me.”

My entire body is quivering with anticipation, but I can’t look up at him. That look in his eyes is just too intense for me to face right now. I give the barest shake of my head, and an electric shock zings through my skin as he tilts my chin up with a finger. “Look at me, Abby.”

I never could hold out for long against Gibbs. I raise my eyes to his, and suddenly I know what he was doing here. Before I can even begin to process the implications, he brushes his lips over my forehead, letting them linger there for a second before moving on to plant an equally soft, slow kiss on my cheekbone.

I think I’m dying. A huge smile is working its way over my face, but I’m powerless to stop it. As Gibbs draws back, I see a flash of uncharacteristic uncertainty cross his face, and I know his intent this time was about as far from platonic as it’s possible to get.

I stand on tiptoe to reach his forehead, his cheek, kissing him the way he kissed me. His arms creep around to embrace me, pulling me close against his body as his mouth travels down the side of my face to rest on my spiderweb tat, catching the flesh there and biting ever so gently.

This is so hot. He hasn’t even kissed me on the lips yet, but somehow this is more intimate. Craving more contact, I press myself as close to him as I can get, relishing the feel of his firm, muscular chest against my breasts.

Gibbs pulls back to look at me, and this time I can return his gaze without flinching, because I know he knows. He smiles and pushes a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. “You were at my desk, Abby.”

“You were in my lab, Gibbs.”

His low chuckle vibrates through my body. “I couldn’t sleep for hearing you call me your ‘silver-haired fox’.

Wow. I didn’t think he’d even remember that one. “Try hearing you say ‘Tell Abby I want her’ for six hours straight!”

He laughs properly at that one, his face splitting into an unguarded grin. I love when he does that! It doesn’t happen that often. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem, my silver-haired fox,” I tease him, and his fingers tighten on my waist. This feels so natural… shouldn’t I be at least a little uncomfortable with him at this stage?

“Abby… if you don’t want this, you know you can just say so,” he tells me, all of a sudden the perfect gentleman. Weird, in all my fantasies I just always imagined he’d grab me, and kiss me, and push me up against the wall without letting me say a word. But he’s as considerate towards me with this as he is with everything else he does for me.

I lean forward and kiss him, cause I know he won’t do it. I push my lips gently against his, and I can feel his surprised intake of breath in the split-second it takes him to register what I just did. Once he does, though, he kisses me back just as gently. One of my arms is around his neck, the other hand rests on his chest, and he covers that hand with his, entwining our fingers. It’s one of the most erotic things I’ve ever felt, just for its simplicity.

When we break off, we’re both breathing heavily and my insides are on fire. He’s still holding my hand in place, and I can feel his heart tripping through his shirt. “What time is it?” he asks.

There’s a clock on the wall behind him. “0530 hours, sir!” I could do a little mock salute as well, but then I’d have to move away from him.

“How early do you usually get visitors?”

Oh, yes. “0730 hours, and even then not that often. How d’you want to spend the time till then, Gibbs? I have a deck of cards in my drawer…” I don’t get any further. He kisses me again, and this time it’s so heated and possessive that I can hardly believe it’s the same person. One hand cups the back of my head, preventing me from drawing away – as if I’d want to – and the other arm crushes me against his chest.

I kiss him back, making sure he knows I’m not afraid of a little rough. His tongue tries to gain entry to my mouth; I force it back with my own, taking control for just long enough to prove that I can before I give in to his advances. For the most part though, I’m happy to let him do what he wants, because damn, the man is good. If he weren’t holding me so tight, I might fall over.

I manage to get my hands under his shirt, exploring the warm flesh of his back with my fingertips. In response, he slows his assault, giving us both time to breathe as his fingers tease their way down my neck and over my breast, somehow finding my taut nipple through my clothes. He continues down further than I’d ever expected, slipping his fingertips up under the hem of my tiny mini-skirt and toying with the fishnet fabric that covers my inner thighs. God, please, yes, let him…

He drops his hand away, and before I know it I’m giving a disappointed groan. I can feel his amusement rumbling through his chest, and give him a mock glare, trying to will away the awareness of how wet I’ve gotten in just a few short minutes. “You bastard.”

“So I’ve been told,” he says, and I feel a small stab of jealousy before I remember that Gibbs is Gibbs, after all, and there isn’t a single person in the building who hasn’t called him a bastard at one time or another.

“Are you gonna keep teasing me like this?” I complain.

“Maybe all day,” he answers, sliding a hand up under my shirt, under my bra, to roll one of my nipples between his fingers. Holy shit. I arch forward, craving more contact, but he stops and moves away from me completely.

Hopelessly turned on and deprived of his touch, I sag against the workbench, doing my best to look forlorn. “You wouldn’t leave me like this, would you, Gibbs?”

“Would you be giving me this routine if I really were your Dom?” he shoots back, and a shock of amazement goes through me. Is he offering? It’s been ages since I’ve subbed, and I thought I was over it, but if it’s Gibbs giving the orders…

I decide to test him out, standing straight, my hands behind my back, ignoring the need pulsing through me. “No, sir.”

His eyebrows rise as he takes in the change in me. “You do this a lot, Abby?” His voice has shed most of its affectionate tone, becoming more authoritative, and I realise he must have done this before. Wow, who’d have thought?

“Used to, sir,” I answer him, letting myself fall a little further into a submissive mindset.

He shakes his head, but I can see the intrigued expression he tries to hide. “I don’t want to start off that way.”

Damn. Well, I guess not ‘damn’ exactly, because at least we are starting off, but... that could’ve been fun. “Okay… sir.”

Gibbs chuckles and pulls me into an embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around me and kissing the top of my head. “What do you want, Abs?”

I start to trace my fingers over the skin of his neck. “Duh… what do you think I want, Gibbs?” You. In me. Now.

“The same thing I want.” His hand moves from my back down to cup my ass, then pulls up my skirt again to rest his fingers just below where I want them. I draw in a shaky breath as desire flares through me again. Just the thought of those fingers against me, inside me, makes me want to fall apart right there.

I disentangle one arm from around his neck and calculatedly push my hand over his hardening crotch, never looking away from his face. His eyes flutter closed for a moment at the sensation, but when he opens them they show a glimmer of mischief. His fingers twitch again, skimming the cloth of my panties, and it’s a concentrated effort not to cry out. Instead, I kiss him again, grinding my hips over his erection and causing us both to catch our breath.

“Not a good idea, Abs,” he breathes against my lips. “I don’t have anything with me.”

Excuses, excuses… “I’m on the pill,” I whisper back. “Come on. Take what you want, Gibbs-man.” The words are barely out of my mouth when he pushes his lips back against mine, his hands working down my panties and fishnets. I make short work of his pants, and soon I’m holding his erection, teasing him even as his fingers seek out my clit. His rhythm is so skilled that within seconds my knees have given out and he’s the only thing supporting me. I can’t do this for much longer… he’s going to make me… oh, god…

He takes away his hand just as I think I can no longer hold out, pulling me back from the edge. I murmur something wordless, but he just smiles. “Not yet.”

To pay him back, I push him back against the workbench, moving in close and guiding him into me before he knows what’s happening. Oh, Jesus, nothing has ever felt this good. Slowly, I grind against him, testing his reaction. Gibbs emits a low growl of pleasure that rocks me to my core and grabs my hips, thrusting deeper into me, then almost all the way out again before returning. Again, I get the feeling that I’m being possessed, that this is his way of telling me I’m his, all his, and will be forever.

I don’t have any problem with that.

He pulls me to the floor, taking care that I’m on top. The tiles don’t look too comfortable for him, so I hesitate, but he shakes his head and bucks up into me once again, reminding me why we’re there. I start to move, taking control totally away from him, concentrating on maximizing this incredible feeling. Gibbs’ hands grab my breasts again, tearing off my shirt and bra and tracing every contour of my body as I ride him into the ground. The closer he gets, the rougher his touches become, and the closer I get. Just as I think he’s going to lose it, his thumb brushes my clit, starting up that amazing rhythm again, and oh, fuck, I can’t last any longer… Whoa…

Every single synapse in my brain goes nuts, blocking out every remaining coherent thought as the throes of orgasm shudder through me. Best. Feeling. Ever. Seriously. Gibbs…

I can’t think straight, but I have to keep going for Gibbs, and he’s guiding me, helping me, rolling me over onto the tile to pound into me for those last few seconds before he comes with a tiny groan and drops his head onto my chest as he rides it out.

I may be clinically dead. I’m hot and sweaty and mussed and exhausted, but if there’s a woman happier than me on this planet, I’ll be very surprised. Wow. I always knew experience counted for something, but…

“You still with me, Abs?” Gibbs asks, pulling out of me and drawing me close.

“Still with you. I didn’t wear you out, did I?” He shoots me a mock-glower, and I just laugh and curl closer to him. “Well, at least we got that out of the way before everyone came in today.”

“Gonna be able to hold it together?” he asks.

I raise myself up on one elbow to give him an indignant glare, but somehow it turns into a smirk. “Gibbs, please. I’m a professional.”

It’s definitely gonna be an interesting day.

Next Chapter

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

<< Back

Send Feedback