Title: The Other Guy
Rating: PG-13 for one use of the 'f' word and threats of violence.
Spoilers: Bloodbath and Hiatus.
Summary: Mikel Mawher's escaped from prison, and the only thing on his mind is Abby...

Author's Note: Set between Hiatus II and Shalom. Yeah, I have no idea why it takes so long for anyone at NCIS to find out that Mikel's escaped from prison, but we'll overlook that. And the totally implausible way Abby puts her life in even more danger by pissing Mikel off. Thanks to Cassy for letting me bounce an idea off her...

I kick the door shut behind me, moving on autopilot to the kitchen and setting some coffee on to filter. It's been another really, really long day without Gibbs… but I don't want to think too much about that. If I do, I'm gonna get back into the whole self-pity mindset, and that leads to way too much bourbon (Gibbs' drink, of course), and a killer hangover the next morning.

I grab a package of cookies instead – nothing like self-medicating with sugar to ease a girl's mind – and head for the CD player in the lounge. As I sort through my music collection, looking for something hardcore yet not totally depressing, I hear a footstep behind me and freeze.

"Hey, relax," a familiar voice instructs, and my blood turns to ice as I recognise it. It can't be… there's no way! "It's just me."

Swallowing hard, I make myself turn around to face Mikel Mawher. He's smiling as if nothing's wrong, but he's wearing a prison jumpsuit and there's a gun in his hand. My apartment door is wide open, and a lock-pick is still jammed in the keyhole.

As if on cue, my cellphone starts to ring. Tony or Ziva or McGee telling me to get out of my apartment because my psycho ex has escaped from prison, as if I couldn't guess.

"You don't wanna answer that, Abbs," Mikel tells me, taking a step closer. "Pass it here."

I can't stop looking at the gun. Right now, it's the centre of my world. I've seen what happens to bullets after they've been through a person, and I've seen the people they've been through, but I never thought that having a Glock 17 pointed at your chest could be so terrifying.

"Hey, I don't wanna hurt you. Just gimme the phone."

With numb fingers, I draw it out of my pocket and extend my arm. My hand shakes as he takes the cellphone, as his fingertips linger against my palm.

"What do you want, Mikel?" I ask as calmly and coldly as I can, hoping I can buy myself some time.

He sits on the arm of my couch, motions for me to sit down in the chair across from him as he cancels my incoming call and switches off the cell altogether. Once I'm seated, he begins to toy with the Glock, never taking his eyes off me.

"While I was inside, I did a lot of thinking, y'know? We had a lot of fun, but then I screwed it up, and I'm sorry. I wanna make it up to you, but I gotta be honest with you first. Is that okay?"

"Sure." What does he expect me to say?

Mikel beams at me, as if I've just taken the first step in repairing our tragically misunderstood relationship or something. "See, this is my problem. When we first started going out, things were great. That straitjacket you gave me for my birthday was perfect. Did I ever tell you how much I love it, by the way?"

Only several thousand times, right before he bugged my phone. "Yeah, you did," I say softly, bunching my hands into fists to hide the fact that I'm trembling.

"Oh. Good." He looks relieved, like it's been eating him up inside, although surely he remembers every word I've said, every breath I've taken, since we met. With another sick rush of fear, I remember just how crazy he really is.

"What was it you wanted to tell me, Mikel?" Please, just say it fast and leave… Yeah, right. As if that's gonna happen. I wish Gibbs was here, more than anything in the world. He always promised he'd keep me safe… For a second I wonder how he'll react once Mikel's killed me.

Mikel fiddles with the gun, sighing. "See, Ab… After a while I got to realising how many guys you're friends with. And they all want you, you know that, right? I gotta protect you from that. I mean, I know you'd never cheat on me, because we're just so good together, y'know? But it's like that guy who was stalking you before! They're all gonna try to hurt you in the end. If this relationship's gonna work, you'll have to promise me you won't talk to any of them again, okay?"

My brain struggles to process his logic, and completely fails. "Umm…" I should be agreeing with him, but I don't know how to phrase it without making him angry.

"Just tell me you're not gonna leave me for some other guy." Mikel slides off the arm of the couch and kneels by the side of my chair, taking one of my hands in his.

Don't touch me. Please, don't. It's an effort not to wrench my hand out of his grip.

"Tell me you love me?" The absolute seriousness in his expression, the tears in his eyes… it's too much for me to bear. I can't hold back the terror and the anger and the frustration of the past year any longer. He's got a gun, but part of me thinks that if I hit him hard enough with the truth, he'll collapse into tears rather than turn to violence. It's a fifty-fifty risk, but I know he'd planned to kill me, then himself, only a few months ago. This might be the only chance I have to throw him off-balance enough that I can grab his weapon.

"Listen to me, you nut-job! You were the other guy, okay? I hit on you because I'd just figured out that the guy I'd loved for years was never gonna love me back!"

Mikel's face drains of colour, and he raises the gun, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Stop lying to me. You're just trying to cause me more heartache, and I can't take much more of that from you."

A derisive laugh bubbles up within me. "You don't even know what heartache is! I've been in love for six years, and I know that he only ever thought of me as a daughter. A year ago one of his old girlfriends became the director of NCIS, and he looked at her the way he never looked at me. That was when I met you. You were convenient, Mikel."

He makes to interrupt me, but recklessly I plough on, not caring for my safety any more. I've been keeping this secret inside for so long, it feels good to be honest for a change. And if I end up dead, what have I lost? I'm not really living any more, just existing.

"And then just when I thought I'd been able to bury my feelings for him, he got caught in an explosion and went into a coma. When he woke up, he didn't remember any of us, not even Ducky. I went through days worrying that he was gonna die, and then more days worrying that he wouldn't remember everything that made him the Gibbs that I knew. But then he got his memory back, and it was the happiest day of my life. That is, until he resigned from his job and moved to Mexico without giving me the chance to talk him out of it, or even to say goodbye properly!

"I haven't heard from him in three months. I probably won't ever see him again, and I never had the chance to tell him that I love him. Now, that is heartache."

"Shut up!" Mikel screams, one hand clawing through his hair, the other unsteadily training the gun on me. "Just shut up!"

My instinct for self-preservation kicks back in, and I do as he asks, biting my lip as I stare up at the gun. I wish I was standing up. At least then I could try to make a run for it. And get shot in the back… oh, god. I'm gonna die, aren't I?

"Take that back, or I swear I'll…"

"Drop the weapon." The voice is a low growl, and for a second I think I'm hallucinating in my panic. Because this is impossible. Isn't it?

Mikel takes his eyes off me for the first time, but only for a second. "Is he the one, Abby? Is he the fuckin' one?"

I take a breath to lie through my teeth, to tell him that no, I never felt that way about Gibbs; we're just friends; not even that; colleagues at best. Before I can utter the first syllable, Gibbs cuts me off, and my heart soars and thuds into the pit of my stomach at the same time. "I'm the one you should be pissed at, Mawher. If you're gonna shoot anyone, make it me."

I chance a look at him. He's standing in the doorway, pointing a gun at Mikel's head. Unlike Mikel, his hand is steady.

And he's livid.

Mikel looks from me to Gibbs and back again, torn. His weapon's still pointing at my chest, but I know the look on his face. He's trying to figure out the best way to keep me in my place while he kills Gibbs.

"I tried to tell Abby how I feel about her a couple times," Gibbs continues, his tone almost conversational now. "But she was always too hung up on you."

Mikel blinks at him, a little blindsided, and the gun barrel drops a little for a split-second. This might actually work…

"She only testified at your trial because I made her. She said what I told her to say, and then didn't speak to me for a week."

"Yeah?" Mikel asks me, seeming as though he hardly dares to hope it's true.

"I felt so guilty, Mike." I haven't called him 'Mike' in over eight months, and I can tell it affects him. "I couldn't sleep at night knowing you were in prison just for trying to help me."

He's confused now. "But just then, you said…"

"I was wrong. I'd forgotten how much I miss having you around. I'm real sorry. Can you forgive me?" The words almost stick in my throat, but I force them out.

His scepticism wars with his desire to believe in what I'm saying. Right now, it's a struggle between logic – because who could take what I've just said seriously after the restraining orders, the prison sentence, my rant about Gibbs just a few moments ago? – and his obsession. I don't know if he's crazy enough to swallow the lie, but for the first time I find myself wishing him to be as insane as I think he is.

For a long moment he's silent, his attention focused solely on me. I'm afraid to breathe.

"Ab…" he whispers, taking a step closer, lowering the gun. "Of course I–"

Gibbs is too far away to get hold of him without raising his suspicions again. Without stopping to think, I drive the toe of my steel toe-capped boot straight up into his groin, hitting him exactly where it hurts. Too shocked and startled to cry out, he doubles over, gasping, and the gun thuds to the carpet.

Gibbs rushes him while he's off-balance, shoving him to the floor. Mikel's head hits the edge of the coffee table with a sickening smack, and he collapses, unmoving.

"Is he…?" I ask fearfully. I never wanted him dead, I just wanted him to leave me alone…

Gibbs holds two fingers to Mikel's neck, then shakes his head as relief floods into my tense muscles. "He'll live."

I see him begin to reach for the standard-issue handcuffs he no longer carries, then realise he has nothing to restrain Mikel with. He looks up at me, taking a breath to ask if I have anything to tie him up. By that point, I've already dug around in my bag to find the cuffs I always carry with me. The pair without a safety release catch.

With a small smile, he takes them from my outstretched hand and cuffs Mikel's wrists behind his back. Leaving him on the floor, he stands up, for the first time really looking me over. "You okay, Abby?"

I nod shakily. "What are you doing here? How did you know Mikel was here?"

"I didn't," Gibbs tells me. "I'm in DC for a few days, wanted to drop by and see how you are."

It's the spooky ESP mind-link Gibbs and I share, I just know it. There's no other explanation! Not that he'll believe it. I don't even bother to mention it, especially since there's a way more pressing question on my mind…

"How much of our conversation did you hear?" I already know, but there's a part of me that's in denial.

"Enough."

"Oh." I stare at the carpet. "Well, just so you know, I was trying to confuse him. I thought maybe if I made him cry I might be able to snatch the gun, and I know it sounds crazy and all, but I really thought that I was–"

His fingers tilt up my chin and his lips press down on mine, cutting off my babbled excuse. For a second I can't believe it's happening, and shock freezes me in place. His lips are warm and somehow hesitant, as if he isn't sure how I'll respond. Sensing my surprise, he begins to draw back, and it's at that moment that it finally registers what's happening. Before he can properly end the kiss, I push forward, kissing him back so hard that he has to take a step back to steady us both. His arms pull me close as he answers in kind, all wariness disappearing at my invitation.

Running footsteps just barely register at the edge of my tingling senses as we break for air. "Abby! Abby, are you–" McGee's yell is cut short as he takes in the scene before him. Me, in Gibbs' arms, his hand at the back of my neck, our faces only inches apart as we stare at him. Mikel, unconscious and cuffed, lying at our feet.

Behind him, Tony blinks in incomprehension, and Ziva stifles a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, McGee," I tell him with a smile. "We're good."