Word Salad

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A/N - A couple of people suggested I carry on 'The Onion' (a tag to 'Boxed In') and perhaps write a few chapters where the team try to make things up to Tony – perhaps by arranging a party for him. I decided against doing that because I felt Tony would feel that he didn't deserve the party and would either not allow it to happen or try to sabotage it someway - but that's another story entirely.

However, I had inferred (from their text messages) that Tony wanted to talk to Abby and had arranged to meet her for drinks that evening. 'Word Salad' is that conversation and hence is a short tag to 'The Onion' which is, in itself, a tag to the episode 'Boxed In'... so I suppose what I'm trying to say is that it might not make that much sense if you haven't read 'The Onion' or seen the episode 'Boxed In'. Sorry!

All the usual characters are the property of Bellisario, CBS and Paramount. Purely for fun, because I like getting inside the characters' heads and messing around in there, but most of all... because I can be cruel!

And no, I still do not own a Mustang!

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Word Salad

Chapter 1 - Noise

They strolled, her arm chain-locking his snugly, securely, tightly. She wasn't going to let him go... not now... not now he'd come back. Two 'missings' in as many days were more than enough for her. She allowed the briefest of smiles to breach her face and let her head rest softly against his shoulder.

"Tony", she whispered.

"Uh huh"

"Don't do that again".

The voice was low; the tone was half pleading, half threatening. He was expecting an 'or else' but it never came.

He stopped walking. Do what? he thought. Get myself locked in a shipping container with only a Mossad assassin for company? Overreact when said assassin didn't invite me to dinner? Get myself in trouble by walking out when I couldn't deal? Falling asleep instead of calling Gibbs? Not texting her back the night before? There were too many 'thats'.

He turned to face her, his arm slowly unlocking, untwining from around hers and taking hold of both her hands, he looked apologetically at Abby and replied simply, "I'm sorry Abby, for all of it, for all of that".

Abby smiled, her pigtails swaying in the evening breeze.

"Oh, I know you're sorry Tony", she stated matter of fact, "I just told you not to do it again".

Tony smiled nervously, relinquishing his hold on Abby. She was right. She hadn't demanded an apology nor had she expected an apology. But he still felt he needed to apologise. He always felt he needed to apologise to Abby.

Four words imprinted themselves in his mind.

He still couldn't believe those four words. He couldn't allow himself to believe.

"I was really worried about you Tony. You'd been missing all day yesterday. I could only get a general fix on your cell. We weren't sure we'd find you. And then when we found you you went missing all over again... and I texted you... and you didn't reply until this morning and... Tony..."

He could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. How could he not be a bad person? He'd reduced Abby to tears. "I was really worried about you Tony". Her words hung in his head. She had been worried about him. No one was ever really worried about him. Fighting back the feelings of self hatred swirling around his head, he stepped closer, put his arms securely around her and hugged for all he was worth.

Abby felt the difference immediately. This hug was needy... clingy. Abby wasn't quite sure whether Tony was hugging her because she was crying or because she had just told him she had been worried about him. It was almost as if the hug was meant to reassure him not her.

"I'm okay now Tony... thanks". She brushed the tears from her face with the back of her hand and released herself from his embrace. "You?" she tentatively asked.

He took a metaphorical step back.

He didn't know how to answer that one.

It was a simple question. Not so simple answer. He was emotionally drained, the events of the past two days having thrust him to the heights of adrenalin overload and then cruelly pulling him down low into the depths of self-loathing. At this actual moment, he didn't feel anything. He didn't feel okay. He didn't feel not okay. He just didn't feel.

He had been running in 'safe mode' ever since Gibbs had... well ever since his boss had made him repeat those words... just four little words.

Not a bad person

The words repeated themselves over and over in his mind. The last three he had no trouble with, but that first one... that first one was so hard to say, so hard to think, so hard to believe. He had tried to believe but...

"Come on", Abby interrupted the awkward silence, sensing the internal struggle deep in Tony's head. Gesturing for him to follow, she threw Tony a wink, "Let's get a move on. I'm cold and you're buying".

The interruption brought a welcome relief from his thoughts. He braved a smile at Abby's playful wink and briefly considered whether he had enough cash to last the night. Never could be sure when on a night out with Abby.

"You can spill all later, Tony" she threatened mockingly, heading in the direction of the bar.

A combined wave of fear and horror gripped his stomach. He couldn't spill... not everything... not anything. He started to feel again and a strange, unfamiliar urge to unburden himself of 'those memories' washed over him before fear and uncertainty rooted him firmly where he stood.

"Hey, DiNozzo! I'm thirsty, real thirsty", Abby half shouted over her shoulder.

Now he really was worried. Jogging to catch up with her he kept his eyes firmly straight ahead and replied dead pan, "You know I don't get paid 'till Thursday... might need to hustle McGee for cash in the morning".

Abby chuckled and, walking side by side with her trusted colleague and friend, she linked her arm with his once more. They walked on in silence, content with the sounds of the city, people, cars, sirens in the distance providing the background score.

Clump... Clump... Clump... Clump

What was that? Abby thought. It sounded familiar. The deafening sounds were equally spaced, a slight variation in tone between the first and second but hardly any between the first and third.

Clump... Clump... Clump... Clump

There it was again. Equal spacing. First and third sounds... maybe a 95% match, second and fourth probably a 98% match. As they waited at the crossing for the lights to change, Abby was convinced she'd heard the familiar sounds somewhere else, but she just couldn't quite place them. She was puzzled but she'd figure it out. "You always do". Gibbs's words rang aloft in her mind.

As they stepped off the sidewalk to cross the street Abby glanced down, checking her footing. The clump, clump, clump, clump noise was back... and it matched her left and right platforms perfectly. Abigail Scuito she started to mentally chide herself, you... and then stopped.

She frowned. It wasn't right. The noise was different. It wasn't the same. She knew what her boots sounded like. She knew what they sounded like in her lab. She knew what they sounded like on the carpet in the squad room. She knew what they sounded like in the elevator. She knew what they sounded like on the wooden floor of her apartment building. She knew what they were supposed to sound like on the concrete of the sidewalk. But somehow they had made a different sound. Why were they making a different sound? Had something changed?

She looked at Tony. Something had changed.

His noise had changed.

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A/N - That's it for chapter 1. Chapter 2 will be up soon when I can drag myself away from the fact that it's been snowing today.

"Hey, better not let the boss catch you doing that", SA3466996 said coming to stand next to McColleague who was staring, out of the window, transfixed.

"Sweet, isn't it", McColleague whispered, "how they cover everything... make everything look so white... so pure".

"Pure...! What are you...? I thought the boss had rid you of that optimistic idealism long ago. Back to work McGlasshalffull"

SA3466996 looked at the white flakes falling from the cotton-like sky above the office. By fourteen hundred it would have turned into a disgusting brown sludge. It would ruin his shoes, the gritters would be out...

"SA3466996!"

... too late to have stopped any black ice from forming this morning... but at least they showed willing... and when he finally got home this evening he'd have to clear a path before he could park the car. Yeah, snow was real sweet.

"Hey, SA3466996", his boss shouted from across the room, "You know, I've got a real urge to throw you out that window. Quit daydreaming!"

SA3466996 bit the inside of his cheek and turned to look at his boss, an apologetic look spreading across his face.

"Work, now!"

McColleague chuckled to himself as SA3466996 walked slowly, dejected, back to his desk.