TitleYin Yang
AuthorDevylish
FandomNCIS
PairingTony/Abby (Tabby)
Rating PG-13/K+
SpoilersKnow about Chimera and you're all good….
WarningCrackficilicious!!!
Words6000ish
DisclaimerDon't own a THING except for this plot kitten. Pet her and see how she purrs!
Author's NoteThe dual concepts of yin and yang which describe two primal opposing but complementary or cosmic forces [are said to be found in all non-static objects and processes in the universe. Yin (dark) and yang (light) are descriptions of complementary opposites rather than absolutes. Each of them contains an element or seed of the other, and they cannot exist without each other. (wikipedia - http://en. Note2Not beta'd

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Abby looked around at the men and women pairing up in Club Bytch in the middle of the night, and thought about how long it had been since she'd been part of a couple. Even for just a night. It had been too long to count in days… weeks….

Taking a sip of her Zombie she realized it had been months now, and honestly, her battery operated buddy was NOT cutting it.

"Later Abby Sweets"

Abby looked up from her drink and smiled, "Night Rex… have fun, and do everything that I would do!"

"Darlin' not even I can manage all those positions in one night!" He laughed and headed out of the club with his handsome boyfriend Jorge.

She studied their retreating backs… Rex had tall spiky blonde locks, and Jorge had enviable long black hair; physically and behaviorally, they couldn't be more different. Jorge with his Latin, olive toning, and his stocky frame, and Rex with his tall, slender pale Nordic figure. Everyone who knew them 'before' they became a couple had been in shock when they heard that the two of them were dating. Bets had even been laid down on how long the two of them would last… bets ranging anywhere from one night, to six months.

That had been three years ago, and Rex and Jorge were still proving spectators wrong.

Honestly, Abby had never seen Rex happier; Jorge, his opposite, was also his biggest support. Providing him with comfort, and strength in the areas of his life where he was most missing them.

Stirring her drink with her straw Abby wondered if maybe she had been going about her 'search' for that special someone in the wrong way. Maybe she shouldn't have been looking for someone who was 'like' her, but someone who was her 'Jorge'; different from her, but fascinated by, and understanding of her. She'd largely dated Goth guys… people who identified with the music and the tats and the clubs that she loved. And while there had been some good orgasms in the bunch, there hadn't been anyone who was her 'yang'… hmmm… or was that 'yin'. Abby lifted her brow and quirked her lips lost in a rabbit trail thought.

"Closing down the club again Abbilicious?!"

"Darla!" Abby squealed and hugged her fellow Goth-rock pal. "Bytch wouldn't know what to do at 2 am if it wasn't for me!"

"Well I'm glad you have the energy to keep it going doll, cuz I sure d—" She paused, turned and smiled at the tall black man who slid his hands around her waist, his long dreads mingling with her red locks, "Hey sweetie, are you ready?"

"Sure thing. Ready and…" He didn't finish the statement, just pulled Darla's back closer to his front and smiled.

"Mmmmm! Okay, well, Abby, you know Abel right?"

"Fellow CafPow! fan, I couldn't forget him if I wanted to! Hi Abel. Goodnight Abel."

He grinned and reached across Darla to give Abby a half arm hug. "I wish we'd seen you here earlier… I haven't had a chance to talk to you since the whole CafPow! discussion, and uhh, now…"

Abby finished for him, "Now is so NOT a good time for you two to be talking to me! Go home! Darla has my number... we'll get together for drinks of some sort."

"Thanks Abby," Darla smiled, "you do know you are THE best don't you?"

"Shhhh, not so loud! I'm trying to keep the men away… not draw them closer!"

With a laugh, two more of Abby's friends headed out into the night and into each other's arms. Another set of opposites.

Beyond the obvious physical differences, there was the fact that Abel was a successful doctor, and Darla a burgeoning artist. Not much in common except for an intense desire for one another, and an ability to finish what was unfinished in the other. They had been happily together for about a year.

Abby pouted. She wanted a yang of her own.

Putting down her drink Abby looked at the half empty concoction; Zombies were going on her no-no drink list because apparently, they gave her a severe case of the lonelies.

Opposites. Opposites. Who did she know who was her own personal antonym? Abby thought about McGee. He, upon first consideration might seem to be her opposite.

It's true, he didn't like her music, or care much for her tats, but they had computers – technology – in common. And a few weeks of dating him had actually proved, to her at least, that he was more of a friend than a… well anything else. Something about the two of them didn't quite make them yin/yangs. They were really more friends who 'put up with' one another's quirks.

Abby needed – nay WANTED – someone who thought she was sexy whether she was gothed-out or she was lying curled up in her baby-doll pjs in bed. Someone who thought she was strange in the most beautiful sense of that word. Someone who understood, KNEW, that despite the spikes on her collar and on her wrist, she was still a woman with a bit of softness to her. Someone –.

And then, at 11:30pm, at the door of Club Bytch, Abby saw him. Anthony 'Tony' DiNozzo.

She closed her eyes and then slowly reopened them.

Nope. He was still standing there; looking slightly lost, but definitely corporeal. She took a minute to study his blonde brown hair, yuppie preppie perfect. Perfect hair atop a perfect chiseled face…. She smiled and watched him pat down the pockets of his suit after someone bumped into him as they walked out – making certain his wallet and other belongings were still in place. She followed the path his hands made down his body. She added 'perfect' body to his list of attributes. Nice chest, firm thighs….

Oh, yeah. Abby needed someone like Tony DiNozzo.

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Tony's day had gone from so-so, to bad, to 'you've got to be kidding me'.

He'd left work later than planned…. No big deal… it happened, especially at NCIS, but that lateness meant he was rushed to get home, shower, and change before picking up Lisa, um, Alissa.

Sigh.

Yeah, the name thing had gotten him into trouble on the date too.

This getting back into the dating pool thing was hard; harder than it should be for someone as experienced as he was. And it was hard because of the time he'd spent being Tony DiNardo. Even though he'd been playing a role with Jeanne, it had been 'Tony' that was playing the role. TONY. He was the one who had had picnics in the parking lot with her. He was the one who had held her hand when they walked through the park. He was the one who had pulled her closer to him in the middle of the night.

He knew that he didn't actually love Jeanne. He cared for her – probably always would – but he didn't love her. But he also knew that when he had been with Jeanne, he'd learned things about himself… about love. He'd learned that the great Anthony DiNozzo liked being part of a 'we/us'.

Since La Grenouille's case had gone cold and Jeanne had disappeared, Tony had tried to reclaim his life. To go back to the Tony DiNozzo everyone else knew and loved…. And in some ways he'd succeeded. He was cocky, spending more time on his appearance, and his dating quotient was back up where it use to be; new girl nearly every other night. But in other ways . . ., he'd failed miserably at leaving 'relationship man' Tony DiNardo behind.

DiNozzo wanted what DiNardo had with Jeanne. To be part of a 'we/us'. To wrap his arms around the same woman every night and to be just a little afraid of how right belonging with her felt. He wanted to be jealous when she laughed with someone else, and he wanted take her home – their home – and remind her that she belonged to him… and he belonged to her.

Dating a different woman every night, yeah… well he'd more or less gotten back into the swing of that. The women he'd said no to in the past few months… they'd lined back up, along with new ones, for a taste of DiNozzo. Which, he gave them. And in return – in return – he got hollowed out.

It's not even like all of them ONLY wanted a one night stand or a couple-of-dates dash with him. Some would love to have a chance to be Tony's one and only. But for Tony, it wasn't clicking. It wasn't right.

The one thing that had been missing from the vision of 'we/us' that Jeanne had helped him paint, had been the 'right' yin for his yang. He had been missing the 'right woman' to fill the hollowness; to add the missing pieces to the puzzle that was Anthony DiNozzo.

In his own clumsy way DiNozzo was now looking for her. In each of the dates; in each of the women he shared his bed with.

Today, however, mother-nature had decided to laugh at him; mock him for his earnest if somewhat misguided attempts to be more than just... whatever it was that he was now.

The day had started with the team being sent out to investigate the muddiest crime scene Tony had ever encountered. He didn't care what people said about mud being good for you, all mud was, was WET dirt.

Toward the end of the day Gibbs had demanded the paperwork on the Chimera case be completed before the weekend. And Tony had lost out to Probie and David at a round of Rock Paper Scissors. Stupid Rock. He had managed to finish the documents – get them in to Gibbs, the Director, Legal, and save a copy for his own records – but his work had put him an hour behind schedule. And he was still desperately in needs of a de-mudding shower. He had mud in places that – well, suffice it to say, the mud was IN places. Anyway running home, showering, changing… and he hadn't gained any of the hour back. DiNozzo beauty took time. Time that Alissa – he was pretty positive that was her name now – was awfully pissed about.

She was a glacial blonde ice queen. Mind you, she hadn't been icy when he'd set up the date, but apparently 60" was just enough time to turn a warm pliable woman into an ice sculpture. He'd picked her up with an apologetic smile, and flowers… yes, flowers. No thaw.

He'd complimented her on her hideous yellow dress. Yellow with THAT lack of tan – NOT a good idea! The compliment had still left her in a no thaw zone.

She'd driven them to Dichotomy – where he'd set up a reservation – the newest and one of the most expensive seafood restaurants in the DC area. Unfortunately, because they were late, their reservation had been canceled and they had to wait an hour for seating. Add to that the fact that Alissa was allergic to shellfish and half the menu was off limits to her, yeah, not much 'thawing' occurred in the wait for dinner.

When their meals arrived, his surf and turf, her Caesar salad, he had poured the charm on, slowly winning her over with his grey-green eyes, seductive smile and the pricey bottle of Pinot Grigio. Defrost started...

The waiter had arrived with the double order of Tiramasu and Tony had dipped his fork into the decadent dish, scooping up a serving and holding it forth – romantically offering Lisa the first bite. Yeah, that's right. Lisa. He'd called her Lisa. And that soooo hadn't gone over well. But apparently getting his date's name wrong actually wasn't his biggest faux pas of the night.

As she drove them back to her place Tony made a small comment comparing Tom Cruise and his beliefs to Henry the VIII and his syphilis induced craziness. A small comment mind you – and it seems that all bets were off for her. She'd hit the brakes, pulled to the side of the street in the middle of one of DC's clubbing districts and demanded that he get out.

"Li-Alissa, sweetie… c'mon. I was just kidding. I don't have any real issues with Cruise. I mean: Top Gun. Cocktail. War of the Worlds!"

"Get Out! Get Out! Scientology is a belief system that should be respected and not treated as if it were insanity!"

"I'm not anti-Scientology, it's just that Cruise –"

"GET OUT!!!!!!"

DiNozzo, ever the gentleman, had thought the red glow in Alissa's eyes and the unbelievably high pitched tone of her voice warranted his speedy action, and he had 'gotten out'. He'd gotten out of her car and left his cell phone behind – for her to remember him by.

Yeah.

Right.

The lost cell phone was just the pièce de résistance for the end of his day. He was now going to have to find a phone so that he could call for a cab to take him back to Lis – Alissa's house (sigh), so that he could get his car, go home, curl up in a ball in his bed and hope that he never had a day like this again.

Tony surveyed his choices as he stood on the corner of Diablo and Rayne. Knife. The Fire Pit. Club Bytch. The Bite Me Lounge. 'Well gee,' he thought as he straightened the sleeves of his shirt and cracked his neck, 'The answer to this question is obvious isn't it?' With a sigh he headed toward Club Bytch –wishing he could have a do over for the day, or maybe for his life.

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Standing in the doorway of Club Bytch Tony blinked a few times letting his eyes adjust to the strobe lights, black lights, and, to be honest, to the people. To the left of him, to the right of him, in front of him, and his skin crawled with the thought, probably behind him, were Goths. Pretty ones, short ones, large ones, black, yellow, lots and lots of pale white ones… but yeah, Goths everywhere. 'Okay, Tony, they're just people, just like you. Or not just like you.' He forced himself not to stare after the guy who had just bumped into him on his way out of the club; a guy wearing a long black skirt, combat boots, a black holey sweater and ponytails longer than Abby's. Tony DID, however, pat down his pockets, double checking that his wallet was still on him. With the way his luck had been running he'd call a cab and have been hit by a pick pocket.

Wallet still in place, Tony edged hesitantly into the club.

"Excuse me…! Sorry…! Sorry ma'a – uhh man!" He apologized left and right as he threaded his way into the club through the bodies gyrating dazedly on the floor. He'd finally made it to a clearing a few feet from the mob around the bar and he took a moment to straighten his tie. 'Just get to the phone Tony me boy. Just get to the phone,' he mumbled to himself.

Readying himself to enter the fray around the bar, Tony was distracted by a pair of legs. Decidedly feminine legs. Pale legs attached on one end to stylish pointy black ankle boots. Pale legs attached on the OTHER end to a short, red and black plaid pleated skirt. Above the skirt, a black blouse – one that would be prim and proper were it not for the fact that it was completely sheer; and the fact that a blood red cincher was wrapped outside of the blouse around the owners' waist. The cincher swelled slightly at the woman's hips, and swelled decidedly at her black bra encased breasts. Dragging his eyes from her assets, Tony readied himself for the moment of truth; looking at her face. She could be a nightmare. She could be kissing someone. She COULD – he shuddered mentally – be a man. She could be –.

"Abby!"

"Tony. See something you like?" She teased. Abby had watched Tony work his way through the crowded dance floor, and she had just been about to call out to him and grab his attention when she noticed he was looking at her, or rather, at her legs. And he was looking at them… and then the rest of her… as if she were edible. Her voice had caught in her throat and she ended up remaining silent: just watching him, watching her. It had been a long time since she'd been…. And then his eyes locked into her face and recognition shot through him.

Tony had the good graces to blush, but he also had the DiNozzo charm and he automatically turned it on full force. "I don't even know where to start with how much I see that I like." He had stepped toward Abby, people somehow magically parting at just the right moment to give him access to her.

"Mmmmm, you can start with my legs – again." She laughed throatily, looking up at him from her barstool perch.

"Well since you're offering." And DiNozzo let his eyes trail back down to her legs from his new vantage point of standing two inches away from her. Yeah they still looked good. Really, really good….

Abby and Tony had always flirted.

From day one when he'd walked into her lab and watched at her as she twirled to the sounds of Astrix, he had found her captivating; unique but captivating. And so he had done what he did best, and he'd flirted with her.

Abby on her end, had turned around in the middle of her lab and seen a yuppie Adonis. She wasn't much for yuppies… but Adonis'… yeah, those she could appreciate. She figured quickly that he was the new guy, the cop from Baltimore. She didn't think he would last long, but she was willing to have some fun and flirt with him; a little light flirting would keep her sharp.

Neither one of them had thought that the flirting would become part of a friendship, or that it would last for six years. And they, neither of them, had ever imagined in those six years that the flirting or the friendship would go beyond those lines. I mean, that's what Tony and Abby were, right? Friends who flirted?

Except now... tonight:

Tony, for just a second had thought she was someone else, he'd thought, for just a moment that she was attainable.

And Abby, Abby had looked at Tony as a guy who embodied what she was looking for… understanding, challenge, and appreciation.

He was most definitely appreciating her now! "Tony, it's not like you haven't seen them before." She crossed her legs the other direction, so that she was facing him more directly.

"I don't think I have Abby." He dragged his eyes up to hers and smiled that smile. That Tony come-hither smile.

She was immune to it by now, or at least she'd thought she was. Abby wiggled in her seat and pulled herself together. 'It's Tony. It's just Tony. No need to get all nervous and babbly…. It's Tony.'

From somewhere behind DiNozzo's back the crowd shifted suddenly and he was propelled into Abby – forcing him to grab on to her to stop them both from falling.

"Yeah, it's just Tony," Abby breathed softly, not even realizing she'd spoken aloud, against his chest.

Her hands were on his arms, ostensibly to keep herself steady, realistically to just 'feel' him. And his hands were on her, his thumbs rubbing a strange pattern on her cinched in waist; both soothing and electrifying at the same time.

"Sorry about the close quarters," Tony murmured against the top of Abby's hair.

"Not a problem. I'm surprised more people don't get squished in here. It's always crowded. Not that you're squishing me of course. Technically, you'd have to have more pounds or force, and I'd have to be pressed against something, like a wall or a, a –" Abby shut up as a picture of her being pressed against a wall, and then a bed by Tony DiNozzo flashed through her head.

"You were saying?" Tony chuckled as he saw a flush spread over her skin even in the dimly lit bar.

"Ummm, yeah…" Her mind clicked in, "What are you doing here?!"

"Long story short: Date, bad, no cell, need phone, pick up car, go home."

Abby smiled. "That sounded like one of my stories."

"Abby, you can't do 'Long story short'," Tony reached up and touched Abby's nose, "It's not you. You're more a 'long story, brilliantly told, longer' kind of gal."

"I think that was a compliment."

"Second one of the night from me to you."

"Second one?"

His hand was back at her waist and now his thumbs were tracing that damnably exotic pattern just under her breasts.

"Mmm Hmmmm. I think a stare like I gave you deserves credit for being a compliment."

"It would if you had known it was me!" she protested.

"No. Sorry. That look counts whether I know who I'm looking at or not. It was a look of admiration…. Besides, I know who I'm looking at now."

Abby's heartbeat sped up and she wondered if Tony could feel it beneath his hand. She hadn't felt this way – excited, on the edge of the precipice – in, in forever. Standing at the edge was scary, and breathtaking, and empowering. She wondered what it would feel like to jump.

Only one way to find out.

"So DiNozzo, do you need a ride?"

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Tony led the way as they winded their way toward the exit, holding her hand all of the way. Abby normally wasn't the type of gal who liked to be 'led', or directed. Authority figures were not good things in most of her experiences. But this was Tony. And he was holding her hand. And the words 'it's all good' kept passing through her mind.

When they exited Bytch they walked in silence to the attached parking lot; Tony holding her hand, rubbing the sensitive skin of her palm with his thumb. It occurred to Abby that she'd spent too much of her life underestimating the worth of thumbs. Thumbs were good; very, very good. She was pulled out of her reverie and her contemplation of the beauty of the opposable thumb by Tony's voice.

"Did you ever see 'When Harry Met Sally?"

"Hmmm?"

"Billy Crystal, Meg Ryan. Rob Reiner film from 1989. About a guy and a girl who are friends and try to take their relationship to a new level… and when they do, nothing goes right?"

Pay attention to Tony's words, not his lips. Damn sexy lips…. "When Harry Met Sally?"

"They spend the whole movie trying to figure out if they should… CAN keep their friendship at the same time that they are focused on how much they desire one another. They ignore the fact that they fit together perfectly. Not replicas of one another, but completing the parts that are missing in the other."

The green in Abby's eyes sparked. "Do they every get together?"

"Yeah."

"All the way together?"

"Biblical, social… together."

"I may have to check that flick out."

Tony shook his head, what woman hadn't seen When Harry Met Sally? Abby that's who. He stopped walking, "M'lady, your hearse."

"Why thank you kind sir," Abby said with a grin.

And then her grin faded into a look of pleasure as Tony reached up and gently brushed her bangs away from her eyes with his index finger. Stroking her face lightly he stared down into her green-gold eyes.

"So," the biggest 'small' word Abby had ever heard rumbled out from between Tony's lips.

"So," she responded. Then her nerves kicked in again; fueling her mouth. "I've been thinking about trading the hearse in. I mean it's great for hauling things in, and of course I love the whole symbolism thing. Not that I drive it because of the symbolism…. I mean, I'm not that type of person; at least, I try not to be that kind of person. I think things should mean something to you and you alone. You shouldn't flash and flaunt them in order to impress others or try and sway their opinions. Oh God! You don't think people think that I want them to think that they should think hearse's are cool do you? They are cool. And they ride like a dream. But I don't necessarily want people to think that they're cool; although it would be neat if they did. Actually, I had a dream the other night about driving the hearse though a field of daisies, and people were standing by the side of the field looking at me and applauding. At the time I thought I had the dream because I had Ramen Noodles before I went to bed, but maybe, subconsciously, I want people to look at me… in my hearse… being symbolic, or, or –"

Tony lowered his head to Abby's moving lips and shut her up the only way he knew how.

The kiss lasted for half a minute. Half an hour. Half a lifetime.

Somewhere in the middle of the kiss Abby dropped her purse and wrapped both of her arms around Tony's neck. Black nails weaved through his short hair teasing the nerve endings on his scalp.

Pulling his head back for just a second, Tony offered, "I think that people think you're breathtaking."

Jumping up and wrapping her legs around his hips, Abby mewled and pulled Tony's head back down to hers. He stumbled back a few steps, surprised by Abby's sudden attachment to his form, before he gathered his footing again and moved forward, pressing her back against the side of the car.

Abby wasn't inexperienced. She'd been around. And she'd wholeheartedly enjoyed her 'aroundedness', but no one… NO ONE, had ever kissed her like Tony was. She felt desired, and awe inspiring. And she felt demand and trust – all of it – in his kiss. Tony DiNnozzo made her mind numb, her knees weak, with just one kiss.

He trailed his lips along her jaw, teasing the skin along her neck with little kisses, warm licks, and possessive nips. Sliding his hand down to her ass he lifted her higher on his frame… anchoring her firmly between him and the car.

Abby was having a hard time deciding which was harder, the metal, or Tony. Beaming at her power – the power he made her feel – she kissed the top of Tony's bent head before whispering: "While I love my car Tony, I think this would be so much better if we were lying down – say in a bed? At your place? Naked?"

"Naked is good," he mumbled against her collarbone.

"Tony stop. That tickles," Abby laughed. "Tony." He continued to nuzzle at her neck. "DiNozzo!"

He groaned and lifted his head.

Abby reached up with her hand and carefully wiped at the red lipstick that was all over Tony's mouth. "Tony. Your place… your bed… me, you, nudity?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

Sliding her legs down his thighs, Abby leaned her head back and accepted more of the nuzzling that Tony didn't seem capable of stopping. "Umm, Tony?"

"Hmmm?"

"We're not getting anywhere with the leaving…."

He chuckled against her neck… "I don't know about you Abs, but I don't really need to go anywhere in order to come..."

"Do I need to remind you about the goodness that is horizontal nakedness?"

Tony backed away from Abby slowly but kept his hands on her hips. "Okay, that was hard."

Bending down to pick up her purse, Abby trailed her hand down Tony's chest… his abs… and finally down to the impressive length straining against his slacks. "It definitely looks like it's hard," she teased.

He groaned and pulled her back up for a kiss. Then, using more self-control than he knew he had, Tony backed away from Abby, holding his hands up in the air. He needed to put distance between them, and he definitely needed to keep his hands off of her if he – they were going to ever get out of this parking lot.

She smiled that wide smile of hers and reached in to her purse. Pulling out her keys she tossed them at Tony.

Quirking and eyebrow he asked, "I get to drive?"

"Mmm hmmm. I want to keep my hands free to… do … other things."

Tony groaned in anticipatory frustration. Unlocking the driver's side of the car he let her slip into the car and scoot over until she was in the middle of the bench seat. He followed her in and adjusted the seat before gunning the car to life.

They drove in silence for a few minutes before Abby spoke, "You're locking your jaw," she said as she traced his jawbone with a finger.

Tony's cock surged in response to her gentle touch, and he reacted by gritting his teeth, "I'm concentrating on getting us to my place safely."

"Oh. Good. Safe is good, although, in general, hearses are safe cars, you probably don't have to concentrate quite so hard." Her hand traced his hairline along the side of his face and she curled her body up in the seat next to him. A small tick appeared on the side of his jaw. "Whassa matter Tony? Am I distracting you?" She trailed her nimble fingers along his ear and then down to his neck.

"Abby…." More gritted teeth and a tone of voice that was somewhere between a warning and a prayer. Two can play at this game he thought. Dropping his right hand from the steering wheel Tony placed it on her thigh. Her skin was cool to the touch; that or he was overheated. Splaying his hands across her flesh, he curved his fingers around her leg and slowly eased them up toward the hem of her little plaid skirt.

Abby leaned in and licked Tony's ear – her tongue just outlining the edge. Tony's breath caught and he paused briefly in his exploration of her leg. Never one to give up easily, he restarted his hand's journey. As his hand went further up her leg, he glanced down at the skin he was uncovering inch by inch. Her skin was pale against his tan hand, pale and smooth as silk.

"Eyes on the road Tony." Abby breathed raggedly into his ear.

"You are so getting it when we get to my place." He moaned as he dragged his eyes back to the road.

"Getting what Tony? Do you have a present for me?" She slid her hand slowly down his chest, marveling again at the hard muscles she found there.

"You're teasing Abby."

"Who me?" Her hand dropped down to his abs.

"Teasing can get you in trouble Abby."

"I think I like that kind of trouble."

He turned his head to the side and snuck a kiss from her. "I just bet you do." Looking back at the road as her hand dipped even lower, Tony swerved the giant black car to the left and just missed hitting a parked car. "Okay… that's it Abby." He lifted her hand from his overly excited member and placed it demurely onto her own lap.

"Just keep your hands there for the rest of the ride…. And I'll keep –"

She pressed her frame against his arm and ducked her head in to his neck, nibbling at the salty skin there.

"—Abby…unggghhh…, you'll be the death of me!" And I'm appropriately in a hearse he thought. "Keep your hands and your other body parts off until we get to my place."

She groaned and pouted.

"Just five more minutes."

Abby racked her brain quickly for a new way to tempt and tease Tony. It took her a few minutes, but she came up with something.

Lifting her feet to the dashboard she ran her hands down her legs and riled him up a little more as she intoned. "Your hands felt good against my skin Tony. Just tracing up and down my thigh. Heading closer and closer to that warm, mmmmm, make that hot, little space between my legs. Makes me feel all yummy just thinking about you doing that again; only this time, I don't want you to stop. I want your fingers going all the way up until you find out for yourself just how hot you've made me."

Tony slammed on the brakes. Turned off the ignition and opened the door, he reached in and pulled out a surprised Abby.

"What…."

"We're here." Tony stepped toward her and Abby backed up. He stepped toward her again and, once again, she backed up. They kept up this quiet dance until Abby found herself just outside of Tony's apartment building, her back pressed against the glass. Tony leaned into her and slowly entered his code into the locked lobby.

The door clicked and Tony pulled it open.

The dance continued.

Tony had a smile on his face that was absolutely the sexiest thing Abby had ever seen. It was sensual, and knowing, and… and predatory. It made her nervous in all the best ways. And per usual, when she was excited or nervous, Abby began to babble.

"I guess this is it. It being the moment… Well, not THE moment, but a moment. THE moment will come later. Maybe. I mean I hope. Not that I would hate you or anything if the moment didn't come, it's just that I'm pretty certain that the moment is coming. And if it is that's great… If it doesn't come though, I'll be just fine. And, I'll still like you. I mean, we're friends right? What was the name of that movie again? The one about friends becoming, ummm, more than friends? Do you think that's possible? For a woman and a man to be friends and then, maybe, become more than friends? I would like to think it's possible, because that strikes me as the best kind of, of… sex, and uh," she backed into the door of Tony's apartment.

"Abby, shut up." He put an arm around her waist, inclined his head and nibbled at her lips as he unlocked the door. Following her into his home, Tony kicked the apartment door shut with his foot.

As light poured in through Tony's bedroom window, Abby leaned on her elbow and looked down at his sleeping form.

His hair was a mess – her doing.

He had a hickey on his neck, and one on his chest – her doing.

He had nail marks on his left bicep – her doing.

He had a smile on his face – her doing.

Nudging his chest with her finger, Abby called out to him: "Tony?"

She let her finger's traipse down his chest… his ridiculously beautiful chest… "Tony… wake up."

In his sleep-state, his smile grew bigger. Someone was having a good dream.

Prodding his inert form again, Abby leaned down and whispered in Tony's ear. "Tony wake up. Wake up and enjoy the 'real' thing."

Tony realized two things as he stretched and woke up: one that he felt better than he'd ever had before in his life, and two, Abby was at his side, shining brighter than the sun.

Lifting his head off of the pillow to capture her lips, he was stopped by her hand on his chest.

"We broke rule #12."

"Several times," he agreed and tried to kiss her again. He was again thwarted by her hand on his chest.

"Are we still friends?"

He looked into her eyes. Grabbing her hand and pulling it off of his chest, Tony lifted his head as she fell toward him, "We're better than friends." He kissed her and felt her sigh into his body. "We're friends and lovers."

THE END