Written for the NFA Operation MOAS challenge:
This is based very loosely on my own personal MOAS. I still have the Garfield nighty.

RATING: Any
LENGTH: Min. 1,000 words. Max. 5,000 words!! However, DON'T feel like you have to make it this long!
DUE: Oct. 16, 2007

THEME: Must center around the revelation of Abby's "Mother Of All Secrets."
-- May contain other characters' MOAS, but not required.
-- No AU (Alternate Universe), Para-Normal, or Occult.

CHARACTERS:
-- Abby and one other regular or recurring character from the show.
-- Plus, at least one known character who has a connection to Abby. This character may have been portrayed on the show, or simply referred to. Examples: the stalker, one of the bowling nuns, her brother.

CRITERIA:
-- Keep the story anchored in the present. Although the story can switch between past & present, or be flash-back, memories, etc.
-- Plot-twists, surprise endings, and chapters with cliff-hanger endings are encouraged.
-- BUT, no cliff-hanger endings are allowed. The story must be complete, and the situation resolved.
-- This must be a stand-alone story.
-- No previously created Original Characters may be used, except in passing reference.
special thanks to Janie aka jcmjagfan for letting me bounce ideas off and organize my thoughts!!! You Rock! And good luck to everyone!

Garfield – his part in Abby's

Try as she might, Abby just could not bring herself to look Fornell in the eye. He would never know why, but she every time she saw him, another surge of guilt and embarrassment would course through her system and she'd swallow hard and look away.

She'd try to confess her MOAS to sister Rosita but, apart from almost breaking a couple of vows, the nun hadn't been very helpful. She had simply pointed out, in her calm, nunnly way, that no sin had been committed by either party and embarrassment, no matter how severe, could not be relived by means of confession.

Now, with Fornell standing right behind her humming a chorus of 'do dah', the terrible memories flooded back.

She had been so excited to be selected for the intensive forensics course. It was targeted at young up and coming college forensic scientists and she had been offered a place without even having to apply. She gained immense pleasure from the thought that someone somewhere thought a strange dark-haired goth girl from New Orleans was worth spending extra time to train. She really had a future in this field. It was her first hint that being different didn't matter to scientists – it was all about what you knew and nothing about how you looked.

She had been uneasy on discovering it was a residential course held at a wilderness retreat. It was perfect Agatha Christie material: 50 college students on a course in the wild murdered one by one until the ultimate killer is revealed. The ultimate forensics training course – catch them before they kill you.

Deep down, she knew she was being silly but she was scared enough to bring along some comfort animals. This was way before the days of her beloved Bert but she did bring along some of her favourite stuffed animals to share her experiences – and, of course, her Garfield nightgown.

She had worn the Garfield nightgown for more years than she cared to remember – certainly before her final growth spurt which explained its almost obscene length. Now it was almost translucent, with only the merest hint of Garfield demolishing a bowl of lasagne impregnated into the material. Despite all that, in times of stress, she often found solace in sleeping in her favourite Garfield nightgown. Besides, no one had to know – it was her secret. That made it even more special. Sort of like wearing no underwear at school, she felt empowered by the secret knowledge.

Things went well for the first two days. She met new and interesting friends, some of whom she still kept in contact with to this day. The organisers had not been shabby in their supply of leading edge equipment either and she had managed to play with almost every forensic gadget available on the market at the time. Certainly something her college could not offer.

They also had guest lecturers who would arrive in the morning, give a talk in the afternoon, stay for dinner and questions time, sleep overnight and then return to the great world beyond to make way for the next speaker. It was on the third day that she first saw Tobias Fornell, the FBI guest speaker.

At first glance, Fornell was unremarkable, much like every other speaker at that time. He was younger then, not as cynical as in his older years but this was many years and at least one Gibbs retread wife ago. His talk was calm and methodical though under the droning tone lay a droll wit that only the alert enjoyed. He proved to be a very generous after dinner guest answering many questions about the FBI and their forensic procedures. She had even asked him a question to his face, a fact that her brain nowadays simply denied. If he had noticed her in any way – well it didn't bear thinking about.

Then it happened: she was awoken at some ungodly hour of the morning by a blaring fire alarm. She grabbed her black skull purse and as many stuffed animals as she could carry and raced to the fire exit. Pulling the door open she was surprised to come face to face with an axe. Beyond the axe was a fireman, dressed in full black regalia complete with reflective striping and hard hat.

There she was: barefoot and sleep tousled, dressed in nothing but a semi-transparent, high-riding Garfield nightgown and clutching an armful of stuffed toys. As her eyes familiarised themselves with the dim moonlit night outside, she was horrified to discover that rather than one axe bearing fireman staring at her, there were, in fact, a great hoard of identically dressed well built men each brandishing an axe and each looking at her expectantly.

"Have you seen a fire?" the lead fireman had yelled over the alarm.

To this day the question always struck her as the second more absurd question anyone had ever spoken.

"Ah, no," she'd yelled back. "You want to come in and look around?"

Bingo – and the award for most stupid question goes to….

She opened the door and line after line of fireman, dressed to the hilt in fireman type clothing, filed past her and her stuffed toys pointedly ignoring the threadbare Garfield nightgown that barely covered her crotch.

When the last of the fireman had entered the building, she had slunk off to the designated gathering spot for times of emergences, skulking in the shadows, least she be seen. She noted with dismay that everyone else had taken the time to at least grab a coat and slide on some shoes; some had even dressed. Certainly no one else was wearing high-rise, threadbare sleepwear with a hint of pasta chomping obese ginger-striped cat on the front.

She had hovered in darkened patches for the roll call and, having accounted for herself, stalked away through the pine cone laden forest floor to hide amongst the trees.

It was then she saw him. Like her, he was utilizing the tree cover to hide from prying eyes.

Even now the memory made her cringe. She screwed up her eyes, much as she had done that night, and willed the image burned into her mind to leave. But it was too late – the damage was irreversible.

To this day, she would never know why Tobias Fornell was standing in that forest in an identical Garfield nightgown to her own – right down to the length and age. Once the shock had passed, she had crept silently back to the crowd reasoning nothing worse could possibly happened to her. Since that day, she had hoped and prayed that he was oblivious to her presence that night – but she could never be sure.

At the time she had taken comfort in the knowledge that the probability of ever meeting him again was so small as to approach zero. She'd even turned down an FBI forensics job just to be sure. Yet fate had intervened and here they were again. He never knew and she would never tell.

"Tobias," Gibbs called from the door. "Lunch: your treat. What do you feel like?"

Fornell turned slowly, catching Abby's eye on his way. Did she dream it or was there a smirk on his face?

"Lasagne," said Fornell calmly as he followed Gibbs out the door. "I've just been thinking about Lasagne."