"I didn't just loss three fellow marines, Gibbs, I lost my marine."

He knew he shouldn't be looking, if she found out she would skin him. Yet after the conversation they had shared in the park he wanted to know more. So there he was, two in the morning, the only person barr the cleaners in the building, going through old case files from the Marine Corps. It wasn't hard to find, it was attached to her service record. Going through the on screen reports he saw each service record for the 4 marines in her section, hers included. He started with hers, watched as she worked through the ranks, gained medals and experience in the field. Then he came to that fateful day, the day she lost a part of herself, her reason to stay a marine. It was classed as a hazardous duty assignment, being stationed on an alqasher oil platform in Iraq, that much he knew already. The reports confirmed it was an IED exploding on a fishing boat that had sent out a distress call. Yet he hadn't known the names of the other men who had died, now he did. Reading over Liam's service record he could see the appeal a man like him had over a much younger Abigail Borin. Then came the photos attached from after the blast, including photos of the bodies. Now he understood why she flipped out when she questioned Lenny Michaca. He closed his eyes and remembered her face as she sat in the park, describing Liam and the fact she saw the state of him when she pulled him out the water. He had seen his fair share of shrapnel damage and explosions, yet he had never been in the position she had been in. When Shannon and Kelly were killed he hadn't seen bodies, had nothing to identify, hadn't had to live with the constant memory of seeing their bodies shredded, bloody and unrecognisable. Seeing men in combat like that was one thing, seeing the person you loved like that was another. Closing down all the open windows with the case on he shut his computer down and went to switch off the desk lamp when he stopped. Picking his phone up he made a couple of calls, made some inquiries, even called in a favour or two before he found out what he needed to know. Looking at his watch he made plans in his head as he slipped his jacket on and finally switched his desk lamp off. Leaving the building he considered calling ahead, but knew it would be a waste of time. Getting in his car he started the engine and pulled out the parking space and hoped he wasn't about to make a colossal mistake.

Sitting in the dark, tears still on her face with the bottle in her hand had not been the worst part of her day. Sitting in a park, confessing her deepest, darkest secret to Gibbs had been as low as it got. That was only part of the reason she was sat in the position she was in. When the case came through she should have passed it over to another team, let someone else deal with it, let another team handle NCIS to boot. Yet being who she was she had taken it, knowing what memories it would dredge up. She thought she could handle it, even though she knew it was an explosion on a oil platform, knew the damage caused a close quarters bomb of any type could do. Lifting the bottle to her lips she tilted it and found nothing, the bottle was empty. How had she managed to drink a full litre bottle and not know. She put the bottle back on the floor and went to stand up, she needed a refill. The problem with standing up was it required some level of coordination, which she seemed to be lacking in. Her mind knew what it want, unfortunately her body disagreed. Every time she tried to stand up her legs seemed to give way. After trying several times she gave and slumped back against the couch. Maybe the refill could wait. She turned her attention to the unit in the corner of the room, her eyes finding the picture she was looking for even in dark. She smiled at she took in the chiselled jaw line, the brown hair that definitely needed a trim to get back that marine sharpness about it . Then came the big blue eyes, the eyes that sparkled like the sea she now worked on. The same sea she had fished his body from. She still missed him, still thought about him, still kept his picture on the unit as a constant reminder of what she had lost, what she could have possibly saved had she done things differently. She closed her eyes and let the tears fall unchecked again, tonight was not a night for being strong.

Gibbs's drove to the store and picked up a bottle of Bourbon, nothing wrong in buying someone in need a drink. After paying for the liquor he putting it in the truck and crossed the road to the small coffee shop there. Ordering two large coffees he paid and took a seat while they were made. While he waited he pulled out his cell and dialled her number. He hoped she would answer, yet something in his gut said she wouldn't. Sure enough, the cell went to her voicemail and he hung up. When his coffees were brought over her thanked the young girl and took the drinks to his truck. Tucking the drinks safely down the side of the door he stuck the keys in the ignition and started the engine. As he pulled away from the curb the rain started to fall, tonight was going to be a long, wet night. The streets were as deserted as he expected for this late hour so the drive to her apartment was quick. After he parked up beside her car he looked around to see if anyone else was about, not that he expected there to be. Taking the coffee and the brown paper bag he got out the truck and locked it, looking up at the tall building in front him he saw it was in darkness except for the hallway lights on each floor. There were only eight apartments in the block and he wasn't sure which one was hers, not that it made any difference as there were no visible lights on in any of them. Walking up the path to the door he hit his first snag, his hands were full, he didn't have a key or fob to get in, and he doubted she would answer if he rang the buzzer. The ground was wet from the rain so he didn't want to put anything down, yet he couldn't pick the lock if his hands were full. Placing the bottle between his thighs, he juggled the coffee carrier as he inserted his trusty tools into the lock. After some clever manoeuvring, he managed to open the main door to the building and push it open. Taking the bottle from between his thighs he stepped inside and waited until the door had closed completely before making his way along the hallway looking for door numbers. On the middle floor, he found the door he was looking for, the small name on the wall plaque confirming he had the right place. Placing the bottle and coffees on the floor he again retrieved his tools and began picking the lock. The door opened with a small click, opening just enough to let him see inside was in complete darkness. Putting his tools away he bent down to get the coffees and bottle and stepped inside cautiously. He had no idea what she was like, and she was a highly trained marine come investigator who could handle herself and a weapon expertly. He closed the door with his foot and glanced around, listening for any sound of movement, breathing, anything. He had been standing about thirty seconds when he heard shuffling coming from somewhere to his left. Placing the bottle on the hall table he pushed the door fully open and stepped inside the room. His training was on the ball as he caught movement and turned to face the half slumped figure and the light from outside hitting the shiny metal of what he presumed was her own personal weapon.

"Hey, I would put that down before you shot the ceiling and have to explain to the neighbours why they have a slug on their floor." Stepping closer after he spoke so she could see his face.

"Gibbs," she slurred out as she blinked at looked over at him through half-closed eyes.

"Yeah, now put the gun down and we can drink these while they're still warm." Holding the coffee cups out a little higher.

She lowered the gun and it clunked loudly on the wood floor as she let go of it. Gibbs stepped forward slowly, watching her closely to gauge her reactions and reflexes. When he was beside her he debated if he should sit on the couch or the floor beside her, but decided if the floor was good for her it was good for him. Sitting with his back resting against the couch he took one of the cups out the holder and held it out in front of her. She looked bleared eyes at the cup and reached for, her hand coming nowhere it.

"Maybe if you say up a bit more it would help." Looking down at the mass of red hair that was all over.

She mumbled something then tried to sit up a little, which failed miserably as she seems to slip the other way and closer to the floor. Gibbs reached out and caught her arm, holding her up until he had put the cup in his hand down next to his. Using both his hands he turned and managed to right her so she was sitting in a similar position to him. As he went to pick the cup up and pass it to her he felt her lean against him, her whole body running flush against his. She was drunk and using him for support, that he could deal with. When he had both cups in his hands he turned his head just a little and caught the smell of her shampoo, soap, and bourbon. At least when she got drunk she did it with the good stuff spying the empty bottle beside her. Putting his cup between his outstretched legs he placed her cup in her hand then wrapped both her hands around it.

"Drink," was all he said, making sure to keep his hand over hers so she didn't drop it.

She took a sip, then another as if making sure the coffee was up to scratch. When she was satisfied it was decent she downed half the cup making Gibbs chuckle. He still kept his hand over hers, even after the cup was empty and resting in her lap. He drank his coffee idly, not in a hurry to break the silence or the comfort he was offering, which he was surprised she was taking. When he finally felt her move he thought she was going to push him away and retreat. What she did next surprised him and her going by the way she went rigid against him. She lifted her head from his shoulder and reach up to kiss him on the cheek. When she kissed him it was if she sobered up a little and realised what she had done. She went to move away but he stopped her, his hand gripping hers tightly causing the paper cup to squash a little with the pressure.

"Don't," he reassured her as he slid his arm along the couch and over her shoulder.

He wasn't sure what to say if anything when he felt her relax against him again so he didn't say anything, just hugged her closer and placed a kiss on her hair. They stayed like that for several minutes watching as the rain started up again outside. Soon it was heavy and hitting the window hard, the sound echoing around the room.

"How did you know where to find me?" She asked her voice scratchy and tired.

"Asked around. After today thought you might want some company that wasn't in a bottle." Looking at the empty bottle on the floor. "How about we sit on this thing instead of leaning against it, probably a lot more comfortable." Nudging Borin sideways a little bit.

Borin just ignored him and settled further against him, she really didn't want to move since she was sleepy, warm, and her head was still definitely a little fuzzy for the alcohol.

"Hey, the couch is better for sleeping on or even your own bed." The words leaving his mouth before his own sleepy brain caught up.

"You propositioning me, Gibbs?" Looking up at him with a smile on her face but quickly sobering when she saw the look of shock on his face at his own words.

She somehow found some energy from somewhere and pushed herself away from Gibbs so she was kneeling on all fours on the floor. Gibbs was still sat against the couch as she managed to get onto her knees and use the coffee table to push herself to a semi-standing position.

"Thanks for the coffee, but maybe you should," pausing as she brought a hand to mouth. "I think I'm gonna be sick." She managed to say as she stumbled across the room towards the bathroom.

It was her knocking into the doorframe that got Gibbs out of his daze and on his feet as he quickly followed behind her, making it into the bathroom just as she dropped to her knees and empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet. He stepped up behind her and gathered up her long red hair in his hands, pulling it back away from her face as she continued to be sick. His eyes darted around the dark room until he found the sink, and the small circular objects he was looking for. Reaching over he picked up the small hair tie and tied Borins hair back, one of the many tricks he had learnt for the other Abby. Once he was sure her hair was tied back out the way he turned the bathroom light on blinked against the harsh bright light. Going to the sink he took the tumbler and filled it with water then took a washcloth from the pile on the shelf. Turning the tap on he waited until the water ran warm then soaked the cloth before rinsing it out. When he turned back to Borin he saw she was still leaning heavily against the toilet but she has at least stopped being sick. Kneeling down beside her he gave her a gently prod and waited for her to open her eyes.

"Here, rinse out." Passing her the tumbler with cold water in.

She took the tumbler and did as he suggested, spitting out the water into the toilet. He took the tumbler from her and passed her the still warm washcloth. She took it and looked at it then at him before rubbing it over on face. When she was done he took the cloth and threw it in the sink. Standing up he put the tumbler in the sink then went back to Borin.

"Right, on your feet." He barked out as he reached down and took hold of Borin's' arm.

Between them, she managed to stand up, only to slump against him. Wrapping his arm around her waist he walked them to the bathroom door and stopped, looking down at her for direction. She feebly pointed to the door in front of them before closing her eyes again and letting him lead the way. He managed to get the door open and walk them both inside, flicking on a lamp at the side of the bed. Letting his eyes adjust he looked around and smiled, once a marine, always marine. The room was neat and tidy, everything put away and the bed made with military precision even with the flowery bedspread. Leaning down he pulled the covers back and gently manoeuvred Borin so she was sat on the bed. The problem was she didn't stay upright long, failing sideways against the pillows. If it hadn't been for his dealings with other Abby he wouldn't have had a clue what to do. Yet thankfully he had been her knight in shining armour on a couple of occasions and she had taught him a few things, other than tying hair back. Bending down he removed Borin's sneakers, then her socks. He was a little surprised when he saw bright red nail polish on her perfectly trimmed toenails. She definitely had a more feminine side than he first realised. Looking up he saw that she was watching him, her eyes half-open but slightly unfocused. He stood up and looked down at the blue jeans and dark blue CGIS t-shirt she had on. His Abby had taught him to never leave her fully clothed, no matter how embarrassed either of them was, she would be more grateful in the morning. So he set about undoing the black belt, then the button, then finally the pulling the zipper down. He paused then, this wasn't the same Abby he was used to doing this with. This was a completely different Abby, a woman who could make his blood boil with rage one second but have him intrigued the next. This Abby was not like a daughter to him, this Abby had the potential to be so much more

He knew when he looked at her she was so much like him, in more ways than one. After recent events, he was surprised how much they actually did share in common. From losing the most important people in their lives to being ex-marines and turning to different branches of the government's investigative services, to their love of coffee, and their workaholic tendencies. Add to the fact she had red hair and could give him as good as he dished out, she was perfect as Tony had been only too happy to point out. Rubbing his hand over his face he looked at his watch, it was too early to deal with this sort of stuff. Taking a deep breath he reached out started to move Borin to a lying down position. She had closed her eyes and either passed out or fallen asleep which he was grateful for. Taking hold of the waistband of her jeans he gently started to move them over her hips and down her long, toned legs. He did his best to not look at the skimpy black panties she had on, but he was a red-blooded male after all. When he finished pulling the jeans off he looked around for somewhere to put them but ended up dropping them on the floor with her sneakers and socks. Next was her t-shirt, which would leave her just in her underwear. As he took hold of the hem of the shirt he tried to think of other things, dead bodies, rotting corpses, Fornell, anything but the expanse of creamy white skin he was slowly revealing as he peeled the t-shirt off. Throwing the shirt on the floor with the rest of the clothes he couldn't help but look. From her red painted toenails, up her strong well-defined legs, to her black panties and matching bra, and finally her face and red hair she was beautiful. He scrunched his hands in tight fists just to keep himself from touching her. As he watched her she started to shiver a little, the cool air washing over her naked body. Pulling the covers over her he tucked her in as best as he could. He needed to leave, now. His body was giving him all the wrongs signal about the woman currently tucked up in bed, while his brain was shouting rules and regulations and other reasons why this wasn't a good idea. He backed away slowly towards the door, stopping and giving Borin one last look before he closed the door over. Walking back into the lounge he picked up the coffee cups and empty bottle and dropped them in the trash in the kitchen. He left the kitchen and went to the bathroom to clean up and switch off the light. He had just finished when he heard coughing coming from the bedroom and without hesitating he dashed back to the bedroom, picking up the small trash can that was on the floor in the bathroom. He made it just in time for Borin to hang her head over the side of the bed and throw up into the waiting trash can he held out. He rubbed her back, the feel of her silky soft skin sending jolts of pleasure straight to his groin. The woman had just been sick and he was getting turned on, he really need a head slap. When he was sure she was done he went and got the tumbler with some fresh water in and made her sit up to wash her mouth out, the trash can getting that as well when she was done. He got her settled in bed again and took the trash can and tumbler to the bathroom, cleaning them and refilling the tumbler. He brought them both back to the bedroom and set them down on her side of the bed, looking down at her just as she rolled on her back and looked up at him.

"Stay," she said groggily as she reached out her hand towards him.

"I'll be on the couch." He reassured her as he took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"No, here." She replied as she tried to pull him closer, not actually achieving anything for her efforts.

She was trying to kill him, but he couldn't say no. He just nodded his head and let go of her hand before heading round to the other side of the bed. He kicked his shoes off and sat on the bed, swing his legs up and leaning back against the headboard. She rolled towards him, her arm coming out from under the covers and grabbing his shirt.

"Can't be comfortable like that. Don't bite you know." She yawned as her eyes started to close.

It was three in the morning and he was too tired to argue so he lay down on top of the covers. Borin yawned again as she moved closer to him and tried to cuddle up to him. She did manage to rest her head on his shoulder as he lay outstretched on the bed. He felt her grow heavy as she drifted off to sleep again, this time falling into a deeper sleep than she had been since he got there. He watched her sleeping, her red hair still partly tied back but some escaping the tie and fanning out around her head. He was a glutton for punishment when it came to redheads, they were his main weakness in life, all his previous wife's proving that fact. He could never say no to them, especially if they were tall, attractive, and like the one lying beside him could kick his ass given half the chance. He closed his eyes and listened to her slow steady breathing, her breath brushing his neck and chin. He liked her, more than he should like a fellow law enforcement officer. He was sure that she must like him too, or she wouldn't be lying like this with him. He didn't want to ponder too deeply on how often she took men to her bed, especially as a slightly green-eyed monster was raising its ugly head which meant he cared more than he wanted to admit. He was so busy wrestling with his conscience that he hadn't realised she had woke up.

"Gibbs, get in the bed properly. I may be drunk but I know what I'm doing." Feeling him jump slightly at her words.

He turned his head and watched as she looked at him, lifting her head off his shoulder and resting it on his pillow. He stayed still and searched her face, her words turning over in his brain. Then he stood up and stripped off his clothes, leaving just his t-shirt and underwear on. When he climbed into bed she instantly wrapped herself around him, her body warm and soft against his.

"Night, Gibbs." She said softly against his chest as she closed her eyes.

"Night, Abigail." He responded, feeling her smile against his chest.

She had invited him in, so that was a good sign, he could deal with the rest in the morning, after a few hours sleep and some well-deserved coffee.