Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS, Abby, Tim, or the idea of coffin sex. It all belongs to Donald P Belisario, Belisarius Productions, Paramount, CBS – generally a bunch of people who aren't me. I'm just playing in the coffin with the pretty toys, I'm not making money, I don't mean any harm, and I promise to put them back as good as new.

Author's Note: Well, my first NCIS fic. I'm really new to NCIS so I hope I got the characters right (bites nails) but really, how can you pass up Abby's line about doing a lot more than sleeping in a coffin?! It's probably been done to death, but here's my version of it.

*~*

"Ouch!" Tim resisted the urge to hop up and down on one foot. "Abby, why don't you just turn the light on so we can see where we're going?"

"Relax, McGee! I don't need to see anything, and neither do you. Just follow me." Abby's voice came from somewhere in front of him, probably around the side of the coffee table he had stubbed his toe on.

Moving carefully, slowly sliding each foot out in front of him to see if anything was there, Tim followed the faint sounds Abby made as she moved through her dark apartment. He probably should have just spent the money and gotten a motel room for the night, but he couldn't resist Abby when she'd offered to let him spend the night with her. OK, and she had this look in her eye that said it was spending the night and not just, you know – spending the night. The geek in Tim wouldn't let him pass up even the hint of acceptance and maybe... sex.

Not that he was entirely motivated by sex! He rationalized to himself as he bounced off what felt like a door frame. It was just that Abby was very attractive, smart, and maybe what Tim wanted to be deep down inside. He'd gotten a tattoo after all. Of course, it was small and relatively tame compared to what Abby had. She had a celtic cross all down her back plus all of the little doodles scribbled casually all over her body! How could he compete with that?

"OK, here we go!" Abby sing-songed. "You need the bathroom, McGee?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I need to um, brush my teeth an-and stuff." He fumbled for his briefcase and the little travel toothbrush and travel size tube of toothpaste he kept in it for emergencies. "Can we turn the light on now, Abby?"

"Afraid of the dark, Tim?" A warm body stood in front of him and cool arms were wrapping around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. "There's nothing here that will bite you, Timmy. Well, I might – a little. But not hard! Just a nibble!"

She matched actions to words and bit gently on his lower lip for a second before diving back into a kiss that was full of tongue. All thoughts of travel toothbrushes and the dark went clean out of Tim's mind.

Suddenly, Abby pulled back, making sure to linger on his bottom lip – just like she always did. Tim was left searching for more, instinctively following her mouth as she moved away.

"I think little Timmy is all ready for bed," she hummed.

Tim was suddenly aware of his uncomfortably tight suit trousers and jerked back. Then he was thankful for the dark. It hid the blush staining his cheeks. Cool, almost cold, fingers trailed over the heated flesh on his cheekbones.

"You're so cute, Tim. I love it when you blush."

"Abby..."

"C'mon. Let's just go to bed. You won't get a cavity if you miss one night, will you?"

"N-no, but I should -"

"Relax, McGee! It takes ages for your teeth to rot out. And I'm sure you're usually good at brushing. So just let it go. C'mon!" Fingers tugged at his tie and pulled it over his head. One of Abby's hands busily stuffed it into his pocket in a wad that definitely leave some serious wrinkles while the other fumbled with his shirt buttons. It was only when he was poked in the throat by a fingernail that Tim decided he should do the buttons himself or risk death by nails.

Once Abby was sure he was well on his way to undressing himself, she moved away from him and soft rustles told him she was undressing too. He tried not to think of the miles of pale flesh broken only by dark tattoos. It was hard enough to slide his trousers off as it was. By the time he was down to a t-shirt and boxers, Abby's noises had stopped. Then she was in front of him again and running her hands up his chest.

"Aren't we passed this stage, Tim?" She tugged at his shirt, trying to lift it up. He tugged it back down.

"I just thought it would be better this way."

"What's wrong with baring a little skin?" Quite a lot of hot, no-doubt bare flesh pushed itself up against him. "Or are you trying to be a gentleman?"

He tried to ignore the soft skin pressing against his chest and lower down so he could retort, "What's wrong with my shirt, Abs? You still think I'm insecure?"

Abby's voice lowered to a seductive purr. "You're male, of course you're insecure. But I like you anyway. And besides, if you come to bed like this, I'm gonna have a hard time doing what I had planned."

"You had plans?" He rasped over a suddenly dry throat and cursed himself for throwing on what felt like his oldest, thinnest boxers this morning. "Were you gonna tell me about them?"

"Uh huh. I'm telling you about 'em right now, aren't I? So take it off, McGee. I can't see anything." Hands crept to the hem of his shirt then twitched lower to his boxers. Pushing aside the little voice in his head that said he should just fumble back to the doorway and turn the damn light on, Tim pulled his shirt over his head while Abby teased along his waistband.

"How's your tat feel, Tim? Can you lay flat this time?" Abby asked suddenly, ruining Tim's higher thought processes as she reached around him to slip her hands down the seat of his boxers.

"Uh-hem! Yeah, should be fine. What did yo-"

"Shh!" One of Abby's fingers covered his mouth. "C'mere."

She started to urge him forwards, using the hands cupping his buttocks to great effect. Tim followed her blindly, knowing she wouldn't let him get hurt. Well, until his shin knocked gently against something hard and wooden sounding.

"Abby, what's -"

"It's where we'll be sleeping tonight. It just a – um, box sofa bed!"

"A box sofa bed," he repeated skeptically as she nudged him over and down. Obediently, he began to slowly lower himself on to the bed and was surprised when he felt soft satin brushing the backs of his legs. With a little more help from Abby, he was comfortably arranged in what felt like a cocoon of satin and pillows. It was kind of nice.... "Abby, where are you going?"

"I'll be right back, Tim. Take your boxers off, and by the time you're done, I'll be back!" Her voice was farther away, maybe coming from the doorway.

"But you said -"

"McGee! Just do what I tell you!"

Grumbling inside his head he mentally recited "Yes, ma'am. No, ma'am." He toyed with disobeying her for a moment but the promise of what was to come was too much. It took some wiggling, but he managed to get out of his boxers and toss them vaguely in the direction of his wrinkling suit and shirt. Then he lay back and wiggled to put his arms behind his head.

It was an odd sensation, laying there in the absolute pitch dark in a box sofa bed. It was very comfortable, very soft with what felt like millions of satin covered pillows surrounding him and propping him up. Absently, he began to stroke one of the pillows near his head, wondering if Abby ever came in here just to cuddle with the pillows... it was nice...

He was jolted awake by a warm weight settling over his legs, then he realized it was Abby and settled back again.

"Where'd you go?" he murmured.

"Oh, you know. Had to brush my teeth, wash my face, use the head."

"You said -"

A sudden husky chuckle stopped him. "Really, McGee, I didn't think you were the kind of guy who likes unprotected sex."

"Oh." Another blush heated his cheeks even as more blood rushed away from his face to parts south. "So that's the plan."

"I don't know what you mean, Timmy. If you mean that the plan is for me to sit and just play with you for awhile, then you're right."

A warm hand coated with maybe just a hint of lube ghosted over his dick. He muffled a gasp and tried to hold very still, wondering if Abby wanted him to struggle and buck or just take it. Another stronger ghost of a touch told him to hold still. He locked his hands determinedly behind his head and curled his toes.

Abby continued her stroking, almost teasing him with feather light touches. Even with the lack of real stimulation, he was hard in minutes. He thought that she'd slip the condom on him and away they'd go - but no. She just kept stroking. Occasionally, she would give a hard, quick slide and Tim would have to bite his lip and hold himself down. Then she'd croon and ease off again, and Tim thought he would go insane if she didn't stop playing around.

"Abs..."

Her only answer was to suddenly clench her hand and begin moving rapidly. Tim gave a gasp of surprise and pleasure and immediately began to follow her hand, thrusting up wildly, all thoughts of holding still gone completely. He thought he could hear Abby snickering, but his own loud pants were drowning her out if she was.

"Gah-Abby!" He choked out, and instantly Abby's hand stilled and gripped the base of his dick, her other hand slipped forward to gently tug his balls down to prevent him from coming. She knew he didn't like that, and he knew she only did it when she had something big in mind. So he let himself relax and ignore the hot hands fondling him and the warm weight of a juicy puss-

No! Don't think that. Just wait, just wait. She'll do something soon, Tim chanted to himself. Slowly, his panting slowed and his hard on faded. Only when he was almost half hard did Abby bring him back to full hardness and roll the condom down his dick.

Tim unclenched his aching hand to reach for Abby, intending to flip her under him, but her hands on his face stopped him.

"Nuh uh! You're tired. Let me do the work tonight, Timmy."

Abby trailed her hands down his body until she gripped his dick again. In an agonizingly slow motion that Tim would have loved to see, she lowered herself onto him. He sucked in a big deep breath and waited as Abby slid lower and lower, forcing him inside her by inches – no, centimeters at a time. It was wonderful. It was terrible. It was Abby.

Finally, finally, finally! He was inside her. He knew he was because she was doing that thing with her internal muscles that drove him nuts. Tim couldn't help but thrust up, bucking his hips into Abby as he tried to get more. She just laughed and rolled. Tim's eyes just about rolled up in his head.

She kept doing the rolling thing for a bit, and then she suddenly lifted up, almost off him, and then came back down. Abby set a steady rhythm that Tim was happy to match, thrusting his hips up to meet her as she came down. When he was used to getting less oxygen, he reached out in the darkness and found a warm breast.

A few pinches and rolls with his fingers on an invisible nipple had Abby moaning in delight and slamming down onto him. All was lost in a haze of pleasure, pressure, moans, and harsh pants until one of Abby's hand came up to grab one of his and force it between her legs. Tim reached in, found her clit, and let her hand guide him to the rhythm she wanted. Within moments, Abby gave a great big moan that told him she was coming. That and the fact that his dick was being squeezed by her madly pulsing, gripping, slipping muscles was also a dead -

"Unghhhh!" His part moan, groan, and grunt was embarrassingly loud, but he didn't care. He was covered by a hot, slightly sweaty Abby who was shuddering through her own orgasm while he was soaring through the clouds then drifting gently back to earth.

The loss of her heat brought him back with a bump. She tugged the condom off of him and neatly disposed of it, leaving him cold and bereft while she padded away and back again. Then Abby was wrapping herself around him once again, and he could bury his head in her neck and hold her loosely in a boneless embrace.

*~*

End