DISCLAIMER - I do not own these characters or the NCIS concept. It all belongs to someone else, I'm just visiting awhile for fun.

*** This short story is inspired by an NCIS episode from series 3, I think, in which Abby is testifying at a trial and becomes the target of a hired killer. The episode provided the prompt for the story, and here, the name of Abby's ex boyfriend is one I gave him, not as he was encountered in the episode. ****

Beyond the secret

Abby's lab was brightly lit and the quiet hum of various instruments formed a velvety soundtrack in the backround.

The scientist sat at a workbench, elbows poised on the glossy surface, her chin resting on her hands.

Her green eyes were fixed on the empty doorway of the lab, her expression, glum. She knew that he was going to walk through the door any minute and she knew he was going to be furious.

As if on cue, she saw the electronic doors slide open, heard the whispery whoosh of air escaping and watched the determined approach of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs as long and irate strides carried him towards her.

Blue eyes flashed over her, a glacial storm that made her feel as though the blood actually froze in her veins.

He circled the workbench and came to stand beside her, regarding her as she moved to clasp her hands in front of her. His gaze rested on her, making Abby feel as though she had suddenly been thrust onto a stage, in the full glare of the spotlights, no script to guide her and no props to hide behind.

"I didn't think it would get all out of control. It was crazy, right? I didn't think it would get so nuts," she said, keeping her eyes trained on her entwined fingers.

He said nothing but she knew she had his fullest attention. She bowed her head, bit her lip uncertainly.

She knew he wasn't going to shout at her. Gibbs never rose his voice to her. She also knew that he didn't have to in order to make his disapproval clear. Her ultra modern and pristine lab practically vibrated with it.

Her stomach knotted. More words bubbled in her throat only to be strangled behind a lump that made it hard to breathe and pushed tears to her eyes, scalding and shameful.

In that instant, she felt herself being drawn against him, his arms closing around her to take her in a warm hug that comforted her even as the burning tears found their release.

He rested his chin atop her head, feeling her shoulders tremble as sobs racked her. He felt his shirt front grow damp as her tears flowed unchecked and still, he waited.

It was only when he felt her grow still that he spoke. He continued to hold her as he sighed.

"Why didn't you tell me, Abby?" he asked and as she had predicted to herself, his tone was low, he didn't yell but she heard the annoyance and something else also. She recognised that he was hurt.

In the shelter of his arms, Abby felt the twin streams of fear and misery drain from her and a measure of calm return. However, she squeezed her eyes closed at the unpleasant bite of guilt at having hurt his feelings.

"Norton is an asshole, Gibbs and he may have serious boundary issues but I didn't want his legs broken," she admitted.

He held her from him and looked down at her and his face was stern. "You kept things from me that slowed this investigation," he said and she knew she was in a world of trouble.

"But more importantly, Abby, much more importantly, you put yourself in danger. That's something we need to deal with."

"By deal with, you mean ….?" she looked up at him, met the flinty gaze and he didn't need to answer. She knew what was coming. She'd known it from the second he found out she had hidden the fact that she had a stalker.

"Can I ask you something? I know I'm not exactly in a position to barter here but?" he tilted his head, giving her a knowing look.

"You can ask me anything. Shouldn't have to tell you that."

"Don't do it here. At the base. This is like my fiefdom of fabulousness. And I don't want anyone to know, I don't want for Ducky or DiNozzo or Kate or McGee to know that I've been hauled over the coals," she looked up at him, her green eyes damp and earnest.

"You're going over something but it isn't going to be coals. I'm not doing this because I am angry at you. I am doing this so that you will remember that I will never allow you to put your life in danger. You mean too much to me, Abby. I will not let you get hurt," he held her gaze and Abby felt a fresh burn behind her eyes as unshed tears swelled under her lashes.

"With me. Now," he retraced his steps to the doors of the lab, not waiting to see if she was following. She was, though his pace taxed even her long strides.

She didn't ask him where he was taking her. She felt a simple gratitude that he was granting her wish to administer her punishment away from the scrutiny of the team on the base.

It was more than she deserved. The past few days had been a nightmare. A threat had circled her like a lion stalking its prey, making her feel helpless and afraid and everyone on the team had placed themselves between her and the danger that infected her life.

Gibbs had moved Heaven and Earth, just about literally to keep her safe. Not only had he shielded her from the killer that wanted her dead, he had kept her strong throughout, held her up emotionally and physically when her own resources waned.

What started out as a routine demand of her career, in which she'd been required to testify at trial, outlining the forensics that would hopefully put a guilty man behind bars took a deathly turn.

She became the target of a killer and was lucky to be alive. She's been so sure at the beginning that Norton was back with his idiotic obsession. And she had ended up throwing her NCIS friends a red herring that gave a smoke screen to the real killer, allowing him the chance to get close enough to kill her if she had not managed to kick his ass first.

She had Gibbs to thank for that too, it was he who had taught he how to defend herself.

And she had kept a stupid secret from him about Norton, an old boyfriend who pretty much wigged out after she dropped him and refused to let go, stalking her instead.

She didn't want to seem as dumb to him as she felt for getting involved with someone like Norton in the first place. To save her own blushes, she had obstructed her friends as they sought to eradicate another, very real threat facing her.

Abby felt the guilt that had sparked earlier kick up in heat. As she rode the elevator with a silent Gibbs, her colour deepened.

"I don't know how I would have got through this without you. You're always here for me," she said, studying the neon numbers on the panel as the elevator climbed.

"Where else would I be?" he stared straight ahead at the shiny aluminium doors.

When they opened, he led her to the garage where his car was parked. He opened the passenger door for her and walked around to take his own place behind the wheel.

He started the engine and eased the car out of the space before pressing the gas to propel them forward, out of the carpark and into the bright afternoon sun and the traffic that milled towards downtown.

Instantly Abby knew where they were headed. His house was three blocks away.

They were pulled up in his yard before she knew it. As he opened the passenger door, he extended a hand to her and she took it, holding on to it as he walked her to the house.

Inside he stood in his kitchen, the room as stark and devoid of personal affects as one in a rental property.

"Have you eaten today, Abby?" his voice was gentle even though anger still rode his features.

She shook her head, going to lean a hip against a counter, watching as he leaned over her, reaching to open a cabinet behind her head, He withdrew a packet of macaroni and deftly emptied it into a dish before sliding it into his microwave, working efficiently and without further conversation.

Abby was bad at silences. "I'm actually not that hungry, Gibbs. I know you didn't bring me here for supper. You know, this whole trial thing and the hitman, I really do appreciate what you did," she let the words flow in cascade.

Gibbs, on the other hand was very good with silence. He maintained his while she gabbled.

In truth, he was working to bring his temper back under control. The thought that she had increased the risk to herself just to protect an embarrassing secret made the blood in his veins thrum with fury.

He needed to get it in check. He would not punish her in anger. His intention was to teach her a lesson, never to cause her hurt.

So he concentrated on the mindless tasks of nuking the macaroni, sliding two portions onto plates from his cabinet and pushing a fork into her hand.

He sat at the table in his spartan dining room, spooning forkfuls of the convenience meal into his mouth, unobtrusively observing his guest as he ate.

Her head was bowed over her plate, her bangs hiding most of her face. He had noted her pallor earlier and he knew also that her black, Goth's mascara was smudged and streaked from her tears.

She'd been through it, that was for sure. She'd poured out her upset three nights ago in his basement, half a bottle of bourbon loosening her tongue.

Not that Abby ever needed dutch courage to talk to him. That was what burned, that she had held back on something so important, denying him the chance to help when she had needed it.

"On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you? Because I'm guessing about fifteen," she spoke into his silence, her plate now empty of food.

"Getting through it," he met her eyes, the planes of his face serious and unrelenting. Abby was not convinced.

He stood and carried his plate to the sink. She watched him warily as if her were about to suddenly produce a rapier and make her walk a plank.

He didn't do anything of the sort. Instead he looked back at her over his shoulder.

"I'll be in the basement, Abs. Take shower, freshen up. Come to me when you're done."

She was glad to obey but even as the jets washed over her, warm and cleansing, she couldn't get her composure back. She felt so badly for not telling him about Norton sooner. She hated knowing that he was angry with her, worse, that she had disappointed him. This was proving to be a heavy burden, weighing on her even as she towelled herself dry and slipped into the change of clothes she always kept at his house.

He heard her footfall on the stairs of the basement. His back was to her as he ran the plane over the undulating board beneath his hands. Without turning around, he knew that she was uncertain, he felt her tension descend the stairs with her.

Time to end it. She's been though a rollercoaster of a week, living with a threat to her life hanging over her was not something Abby had ever signed up for. Unlike Gibbs and his field agents, Abby's path lay in science, not at the confrontational side of investigation. This time, the bad guy had penetrated her carefully sanitised, controlled and digitalised professional world.

It shook her but she fought back and won. He was so proud of her for that.

But they would have eliminated that threat much sooner had she been completely honest from the start.

He pulled a tall, round stool from beneath his workbench and perched on it, turning to face her.

True enough, she was standing on the bottom step of the stairs, one hand on the railing, looking very much like the condemned woman.

"To me, Abs."

Three words spoken softly but a direct order just the same. Delivered with just enough Gibbs in it to make sure she would not have thought to disobey.

She came to stand before him. Abby knew better than to utter apologies. He did not believe in saying sorry.

"Tell me why we are doing this, Abby," he looked her in the eyes, holding the green gaze and letting her see the absence in his own blue stare.

"I should never have tried to keep you from finding out about Norton. Looking back, it was kinda dumb," she admitted.

"No you shouldn't and yes, it was." He gave her a wry look.

"Let's get this done."

He took her wrist and flipped her so she was lying face down across his lap. He rose his arm, bringing his hand down and Abby squeezed her eyes shut, determining not to cry. She had brought this entirely upon herself.

Her resolve lasted about six seconds. Gibbs never spanked her with anything other than his hand but the effect was potent just the same.

He ignored the sobbing, though he hated to see her cry, hated even more to be the cause of it.

She had braced herself, clearly aiming to take her punishment stoically. He continued the spanking until he felt her go limp and he knew that he had taken her beyond that. Knowing his message had gotten though, Gibbs righted her and instantly pulled he against him, cradling her against his shoulder, wrapping her in his arms as she cried.

"Abby the brave", he said.

"I'm not brave. I was scared out of my skin, Gibbs," she sniffled into his neck.

He smiled and rubbed slow circles on her back. "No shame in being scared. It's how you handle it, that's what counts."

"And there is no shame in looking for help, Abby,"

He felt her nod. Then, she drew a steadying breath and pulled back from him. He was her harbour, the one sure promise of safety she had in her life. She would not turn her back on that again. He leaned forward and dropped a kiss on his cheek, making him smile crookedly at her.

She moved towards the unfinished boat that was upended on his garage floor. She ran her hand along the skeletal like timbers of its frame. Just the other night, she had tinkered with it while taking refuge here from someone who wanted her dead.

Everything felt so different now. So much better, she realised. She saw the supple wooden support she had hefted off last time she was here. Wielding a chisel when drunk was probably not such a good idea, she figured.

"You fixed it," she said, squinting to try to find the seam in the perfect workmanship.

He gave her a long look, his blue eyes warm, sparkling and Gibbs like again. He saw the easy set of her shoulders, the confidant, cat like grace in the way she moved. It was a relief to see the bowed look gone, the millstone of tension lifted.

"Yup. Think so," he said.