This was the chapter I posted on NFA. Note I only said Abby tried to cure him, not that she succeeds.

Virtual Abby

McGee sat at the sturdy wooden desk writing frantically on a crisp white sheet of paper, his typewriter silent beside him. It was a cool Saturday evening, mellow jazz wafted around the room. A dog lay peacefully on the mat by his feet, the tangy scent of its fur blending with the fading aroma of left-over spaghetti bolognaise.

He had almost developed the plot for the next chapter of his upcoming novel. It involved a Top Secret Navy radar sporting the acronym P.U.K.E. He hadn't yet worked out what the letters were going to stand for but there was time for that. In his story, the radar worked well except for one little bug: every now and again it would emit a burst of extraneous signals known as "diced carrots" because they were always present in the PUKE but no one knew how they got there. Before the Navy is able to solve the problem, the radar is stolen and Amy and McGregor have to build a device to hunt down the carrots – its unique signature.

McGee groaned and sat back in his chair. This was getting ridiculous. He needed to reflect the reality of the actual NCIS case without it seeming too obvious. PUKE and carrots were probably not going to get him there. The problem was the real names were Top Secret – though the 'carrot' name part was true. He debated whether it was better to steal someone else's vomit/carrot joke blatantly or risk a security breach explaining the whole story and apportioning credit. Probably the former, he decided - he wouldn't be charged with treason.

It was almost a relief when his train of thought was interrupted by a harsh knocking at the front door. Jethro jumped to his feet ready for action, his tail wagging excitedly.

"Stop typing and let me in, McGee," demanded Abby's voice, muffled through the door. "I have something that will change your life."

Jethro bounded joyfully across the room but McGee hesitated. This could be good: really, really good (he could think of many Abby-related possibilities) or it could just be hyper-Abby exaggeration. He sighed deeply: there was only one way he was going to find out.

"Finally," Abby said in exasperation as he relented and let her in.

Jethro stood on his hind legs, front paws on her chest, tongue desperately straining for her face.

"Not that I don't love to see you," McGee started "but…"

"You were working on your book, I know but this is going to change your life."

"You said that already."

"Well, I'm saying it again because it's that good." She settled the dog and held up a DVD. "A present from Ducky."

"Ducky is going to change my life?"

"Oh yeah. This is a virtual reality acrophobia program. Ducky studied it in his psychology course."

"Abby, I don't need to simulate acrophobia for those times when I'm just too busy to find a place to terrify myself."

Abby slapped him on the arm. "It's the cure. Virtual reality programs have been scientifically proven to reduced or even eliminate acrophobia."

McGee eyed off the deceptively friendly DVD nestled snugly in its shiny scratch-free plastic case. "How?"

"It exposes you to your worst nightmare but in perfect safety. It means you can experience the panic but not put yourself in danger. Studies show people are more willing to experience simulated acrophobic situations than real ones. By exposing themselves more, people get de-sensitized and eventually they get cured in real life."

"That sounds crazy."

Abby narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, it's not: virtual simulations can invoke real life responses to relevant scenarios. You know how you can get motion sick on those really grainy black and while roller coaster videos?"

"Don't remind me."

"Well, it's like that."

Abby strode to McGee's computer, ejected the DVD inhabiting the drive and inserted her own."

"Hey, I was playing that!" McGee complained.

"No playing, we work now."

McGee scowled at her.

She scowled back. "Do you want to beat this thing?"

McGee's scowl held out for a moment longer before he relented. "Yes. What do I have to do?"

A huge smile crept over Abby's face. "First we have to make sure you are relaxed so you don't tense up."

"This is going to involve scented candles, isn't it?"

Abby looked up from digging through her purse. "Oh yeah."

"What is the deal with you and candles?"

"Aromatherapy: so you'll have something to inhale while you're listening to your relaxing music and meditating.

"While I'm what?"

"Ah here!" Abby held up a CD and nodded towards McGee's phonograph. "Turn off that porno sound track …"

"That's jazz!"

"… and I'll start up the relaxation music."

McGee grabbed her wrist and moved the CD into focus. "Sounds of ocean waves," he read off the cover. "Oh great: now I can be sea sick as well as scared out of my mind."

"Don't be silly. You're not actually on a boat – it's just the audio."

"Virtual simulations can invoke real life responses to relevant scenarios," McGee quoted back at her, smugly.

Abby considered his argument momentarily. "OK, you win. Break out the pan pipes."

McGee smiled victoriously and headed off to the CD player, trailed by a curious Jethro.

"But you still have to kill the porno track."

"It's jazz," McGee called out.

When all the candles were lit and all the pan pipes a-piping, Abby sat McGee down on his ergonomic computer chair in front of his industrial-sized monitor and ran the program.

"Let's check out the menu." She scrolled down the selection. "You start on a chair, then a ladder, two story building, yada, yada, yada. Hey: Indiana Jones Bridge of terror! I'm going there first."

"No!"

Abby shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. Hmmmm, let's start with …"

"Second storey," McGee suggested.

Abby shot him an incredulous look. "Second?"

"Yes"

"OK, but I think you're wimping out here."

She selected 'second floor' from the menu and McGee's enormous screen filled with a photo clearly taken from a second storey balcony down into a courtyard. McGee said nothing, not a sound. No pathetic whimpering: nothing.

"See," said Abby finally, "nothing. I told you second floor is too easy. McGee? McGee! It works better if your eyes are open."

McGee un-scrunched his eyes and chanced a glimpse at the screen. Emitting an almost ultra-sonic yelp that brought Jethro to attention, he clamped his eyes shut again.

Abby took a deep breath. "OK, here's where the relaxation comes in."

"You can relax all you want, don't mind me," said McGee. "I'll be sitting here with my eyes shut."

Suddenly he felt Abby's clawed hands land upon his shoulders, her fingers hard against his tense muscles. Slowly she wedged her fingertips between the muscle layers beneath his skin. It hurt like crazy but there was no way he was going to tell her that.

"Just relax," said Abby, "and listen to the waves…ah pipes. Take deep breaths, absorb the aroma."

Despite himself, McGee found that, after a while, his shoulders and neck no longer screamed in pain as Abby's fingers kneaded, no matter how hard she drilled.

"Now open your eyes."

McGee opened his eyes and took in the picture before him. It was scary, there was no doubt, but the overwhelming tinge of panic was gone.

"I'm doing it," he breathed, not daring to speak too loudly lest he break the spell.

"I knew you could," Abby encouraged. "Now let's go up a floor."

"No!" his shoulders tensed again

"Shhh, only a little," Abby promised. "I'll be right here."

She leaned over and clicked the navigation sidebar. The image changed abruptly and McGee suddenly felt very dizzy. He rubbed his moistening palms against his pants in long strokes.

Abby was behind him again, soothing and cooing as she stroked him.

"You're sounding like Jethro on a hot day, McGee," Abby warned. "Slowly, slowly."

He slowed his breathing trying to ignore the temptation to close his eyes every blink. Instead he blinked more. No matter how long he looked or how much he concentrated, the image on the screen never quite looked stable.

"It's not working," he said quietly. "It's still making me giddy."

"But you're not panicking," Abby pointed out.

"No, but… I don't think I'd cope in real life."

"Let's try one up."

"You're kidding me?"

The sudden change in image answered his question. A surge of panic washed over him and he gripped the desk with his sodden hands. "Stop it, stop it, stop it!" he cried.

The image evaporated to a friendly background screen.

"That was great McGee!"

"Great?" McGee panted, trying to wrench his hands from the desk. "In what way was that great?"

"It was progress!" said Abby happily. "Tomorrow, we'll try it again and after a while you'll be able to do it all by yourself. All you have to do is learn the relaxation techniques. Is there nothing computers can't do? Can you think of a better way to erase acrophobia from your life forever?"

"Yes, I've decided to go for the most popular method in the world: avoidance."

--The end --