"Gibbs? Gibbs? We've got a problem," came the frantic voice through the phone.

Standing up, earpiece pressed to his head, Gibbs questioned his agent. "What is it, McGee? What's wrong?" Permeating the phone line came pounds and feminine shouts of rage piercing his eardrums. Only a short time ago, he had sent the younger agent down to the forensics lab, Caf-Pow! in hand. Gibbs would normally deliver the caffeinated beverage, but the follow-up reports and debriefings from their latest case had kept him chained to his desk.

And now the panicked voice echoing through the phone made Gibbs wonder if he had made a mistake. A loud crash had him grabbing for his sidearm. "McGee? McGee, we're on our way!"

He slammed the phone down and rushed towards the stairs. The elevator would take too long. Without acknowledgement, Gibbs knew Tony and Ziva were on his six, running down the flights after him, guns drawn. Stairs were eaten up two and three at a time as they charged towards an unknown situation.

The NCIS agents took positions around the closed door of the forensics lab, the red light signaling an emergency blinking overhead. Gibbs had his back pressed to the wall, gun in position as his hand hovered near the handle. Tony covered the other side of the door, his gun pointed at the door, while Ziva took up a spot flanking Gibbs. With a nod from their leader, all three burst through the door.

They swept the lab with their guns and eyes, looking for intruders, something or someone who would have caused the panic in McGee's voice, an unknown element that threatened their own. Moving in as they cleared the room, each began to lower their weapon as the chaos of the lab greeted them. And suddenly they realized the threat came from within.

~*~

20 minutes earlier

With a flourish, Abby signed off on the last evidence bag. The forensic work had been tricky on the last case, as had the investigation in whole, but she was pretty happy that she had been able to figure out the clues that had cracked the case for the investigating agents.

She took a long sip from her quickly disappearing Caf-Pow! before picking up the evidence box. The trek down to the evidence locker wasn't terribly long, and she did enjoy catching up with the techs working in the garage. After signing in the box evidence and having a quick gab with the agent behind the cage, Abby made her way back up to her lab. She grabbed a fresh Caf-Pow!, deciding it would be a good day to calibrate her machines during the lull between active cases, and she would need the caffeine.

Walking into her lab, Abby barely had time to realize the door was swinging shut before finding herself close to Tim. A really close up. Too close. With a gasp of shock, she felt goosebumps start prickling across her skin as a cold, red stain blossomed across her white blouse. Her favorite white blouse! She looked down at the devastation and cried out.

"McGee! What have you done?!"

~*~

Taking in the scene around him, Gibbs holstered his weapon, seeing Tony and Ziva out of his peripheral vision doing the same. A red liquid stain was spreading out in front of their feet as shouts of rage come from one of the lab's internal rooms. A discarded labcoat puddled within soda, a slightly offset, white island slowly being dyed a matching red. Alongside the red and white fabric, two Caf-Pow! cups shifted around like floating sailboats.

Tony hopped back as the drink came too close to his Italian leather shoes. Ziva just stood with her back to the door, a look of confusion spreading over her face, even as the fluid spread further. They each gave the lake of Caf-Pow! a wide berth as they tried to take a closer position to the internal chaos.

In the center room of the lab, Gibbs could see Abby pacing back and forth in front of the ballistics door, a terrified McGee shut inside. Tim's eyes were wide in what appeared to be terror as Abby's hands flying around her head in her anger. The rest of the team tried to enter into the middle room of the forensics lab before finding the door locked from the electronic keypad within.

"Abby?" Gibbs called through the plate glass. "Abbs!"

Hearing a muffled voice, the woman in question turned around quickly, the rage and frustration smoothing from her face for a moment. And suddenly Gibbs and the rest of the team understood what had happened. A collision had sent the dual cups of red-dyed caffeine all over Abby's white blouse and Tim's blue button-down. Sticky tendrils of hair clung to her face and neck just as the blouse clung to her curves.

Gibbs had to swallow back a moan as he realized that the soda had made Abby's black bra visible under her shirt . And now, the bra was doing little to hide the puckering nipples and everything to entice him to reach out and fill his hand with them. A delicate cough from Ziva drew him back to reality, and he strode towards the sliding door, halting in front of it as the sensor failed to trigger its opening.

Knowing yelling at her through the glass would be futile, Gibbs decided on a different tactic, one special to just the two of them. Abby? What happened?

Moving her hands from her hips where they had taken a position in her paused fury, she started signing her response. Did you see what he did? Did you see what that careless ape of a man did? He slammed into me, spilling two Caf-Pows all over my lab, my hair, my favorite blouse. She pulled the sticky fabric away her skin as if to say 'See? See what he did?'

Gibbs swore he heard Tony and Ziva gulp along with him at the sight she unknowingly presented. To get his bearings, Gibbs looked toward McGee, barricaded in the far room. A look of absolute fear colored his youngest agent's face and Gibbs shook his head in something bordering amusement and frustration. The let down of adrenaline from their charge down the stairwell had his blood charged, and he started to try and figure a way to smooth out the situation.

It's ruined, Gibbs! Abby started again, drawing his attention back to the girl in question. Look, my favorite blouse is ruined. And my lab coat. The floor's a mess, my hair's a mess. And he ran into the ballistics lab like a scared little girl. Abby knew she was being petty, but in that moment, she didn't care. He called you, crying there was something wrong, right? And that made you came in here with your guns drawn. Well, you know what?. When he gets out of there, I'm going to kill him.

She started pacing again, her hands moving frantically. When he gets out of there, I'm going to make him suffer, Gibbs. Coming into my lab, not paying attention where he was going. It didn't seem to matter that she was partially at fault, not noticing the shut door or noticing where she was walking or whom she was walking into.

Abby. With her face turned away from him, she couldn't see his hands, so he pounded on the glass, calling her name. "Abby!" She paused again to look towards him, and he used that moment to figure out what to do. Abby, let me in there. I'm going to fix this, but you need to let Tim go.

But, Gibbs! she started to protest, but the look in his eyes cut her off.

Abby, he warned. Unlock this door and let me in.

With a pout Gibbs found way too sexy, she stomped over to the panel and cued in her code. The doors slid open and he positioned himself so that they couldn't be closed again.

"Tony!" he called out, smirking when his senior agent jumped. "Go get McGee one of your shirts. Ziva, you're going to…protect Tim from Abby. McGee, get started cleaning up the mess. Abbs…" he began, taking hold of her shoulders, though he was careful of the sticky residue on her shirt. As the agents moved to follow his orders, he caught her attention, forcing her light green eyes to meet his.

"Abbs…where's your court outfit? You can change into that, can't you?"

"No, Gibbs," she began. She was momentarily stunned out of her rampage by what looked liked desire in his eyes. But before she could blink, whatever she had seen was gone. "Can't. Took the clothes to the dry cleaners. I'm not going to be needed in court for awhile, so I figured I'd get them cleaned. Gibbs, I can't spend the day with my clothes sticking to me. Could you imagine what you happen to the evidence, let alone what the lawyers would do if any of it had to go to court?"

"Okay, this is what's going to happen. You're going to stay here, keep pacing, whatever you want to do. Ziva's going to…keep you company while McGee finishes cleaning. I'm going to find something for you to wear. Just…don't hurt him while I'm gone."

"But I can hurt him when you get back?" she asked almost hopefully as her mind began to process her revenge.

"Abby…"

"Fine, I won't hurt Tim. But you'd better hurry up. I don't know how long I'll be able to keep away from strangling him."

~*~

15 minutes later

A slightly smirking Gibbs came back into the forensics lab with a coffee in one hand, a Caf-Pow in the other, and a shirt slung over his elbow, smelling the hint of cleaning solution hovering in the cool air. McGee was nowhere to be seen, and Gibbs had to guess that as soon as the lab had been cleaned and Tony had returned with a clean shirt, the agent had taken off to escape whatever revenge Abby was ready to enact on him.

Abby was standing in the middle of the room, her arms crossed under her breasts causing the slowly drying fabric to stretch open so that little peeks of the flesh underneath were visible. An amused Ziva sat in a rolling chair off to the side, obviously trying to hold in her laughter.

With a nod from Gibbs, Ziva practically leapt from the chair and headed out of the lab. "I'll be at my desk," she called out to no one in particular.

Barely acknowledging Ziva's exit, Gibbs set the coffee and Caf-Pow! down in a safe location before moving to end up in front of the soda-drenched woman. The anger and frustration had tinted her cheekbones a pink hue against her pale skin and her green eyes still glittered with fire. Gesturing with one arm, he drew her attention to his shirt, saying, "I brought you one of my spares. Let's get you cleaned up."

Granted, he knew he could have asked Ziva for the clothes from her go bag. But some wicked part of him wanted to see Abby in his shirt, something that had touched his own skin.

Anticipating her protest, Gibbs took her by the shoulders, careful to avoid the red staining her, and turned her toward the ballistic lab, intent on the cleaning station she had set up inside in case of contamination. He had always wondered why she would want it so far away from the main room where she primarily worked with her chemicals. But at the moment, he was grateful for the privacy its location would offer. There were no cameras inside this section, no need to worry about someone peering in while he took care of her.

He placed the button-down shirt nearby, though out of the range of any splashed water. The water in the sink was turned on, a comfortable temperature found, before Gibbs set about cleaning her up.

Gibbs didn't know when he had made the decision to personally help Abby rid herself of the Caf-Pow!, didn't even remember making the decision. For years, he had fought the desire to press their attraction. He knew it was there, could feel it every time he entered her lab. But somehow, the urge to touch her skin sticky with soda was a temptation he no longer wanted to fight against. A kiss on the cheek and a heated look just weren't going to cut it for him anymore.

With the water heating up near his elbow, Gibbs reached over and ripped a few paper towels before dipping them into the slowly rising water. "Come 'ere," he whispered. He wanted to touch, needed to touch. And he needed to know if she felt the same.

Abby took a step closer, her eyelids lowered, making it almost impossible for him to gauge her reaction. He reached out a hand, lifting her face so that he could examine her closely. She shuddered under his touch, his piercing gaze. Her eyes blazed under his, her skin heated and a tremor ran through her body as her pulse started racing under his fingers. And he knew. He knew she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

Abby allowed the break in eye contact as he turned her head to start to clean her pigtails. The sticky mess had knotted strands together, and the bulk of the cleaning would have to be done when she returned home. But for now, he wouldn't resist reaching out and stroking the satin as he removed what he could.

A fresh paper towel moved slowly over her cheek, softly removing the drying liquid. Unintentionally, her makeup also began to come off, her skin taking on its more natural pearl shade. He had seen her only rarely without the cover she gave the world; after a decontamination shower, in his basement clutching a bottle. And each time, the delicate beauty of her face, her skin, threatened to break his heart if he didn't reach out and touch.

He cleaned the gentle line of her throat of any residue, pausing as he became transfixed at the sight of her pulse pulsing steadily beneath the flesh. His mouth ached to taste, to nip at the spot where her throat met her shoulder, but he had to resist. Up until now, they could beg off, make excuses if someone happened to walk in. But if he was to lean in, if he allowed his tongue to flick out and taste her silky flesh, there would be no turning back. He wouldn't be able to stop.

And he wanted this to last. The desire to make it last, to draw out every breath and every pleasure drove him to find his control again.

Bringing himself back, Gibbs realized his body had been moving in closer, unconscious of his actions. He had to turn from her, to break the connection in order to regain his footing. He wouldn't move past the teasing, the pleasure in the torture of holding back. But he couldn't resist upping the torture just a little more.

Leaning in, he brushed his lips across the side of her throat, the barest touch of his lips on her skin. An almost devilish grin flitted over his face as he heard her quick intake of air, his senses registering as her chest heaved and froze, as the breath caught in her throat. He pulled back then to an accompanying groan from Abby, needing the space though he wanted to continue to tease them both.

With a clean towel in his hand, he moved down the line of her neck to the skin showing over the vee of her blouse. He pushed the fabric aside in the guise of his cleaning, revealing the pearl-hued curve of her breast beneath. Now it was time for his own breath to become caught in his throat at the sight. He'd always known she was beautiful. But seeing her exposed inch by luscious inch had him wanting to bury his face against her.

Gibbs took a deep breath to steady himself again, moving his hand to clean the opposite side. As the cloth dipped between the valley of her breasts, Abby began to breath faster, each gasp coming fast and shallow. He allowed himself the pleasure of resting his fingers there, the heat from her skin threatening to burn straight to his soul.

Lifting his eyes, he met hers again with the intensity of his blues. "Gonna need to take this off, Abbs."

Only Abby seemed to have lost her ability to speak because her only reaction was to nod. As his fingers slid down to play at her top button, she sucked her lower lip in between her teeth, biting down lightly at the feel of his touch. Looking over his shoulder, Gibbs moved her slightly so that the wall would block any onlookers from spying his…helping Abby.

The need to push them both further had him leaning in again, his lips finally brushing over the lip that was snug between her teeth. He wasn't making contact, not fully, not until the temptation, the drive would become too much. She let her lip go, the flesh plump and moistened from her nibbling on it. His fingers fumbled with the first button, not necessarily from clumsiness but from the sticky substance coated there.

One by one, each button was loosened and undone, some coming freely, some protesting their removal. Only when the last button was finished did he step back, a wicked moan escaping from him at the sight of her clad only in her black bra and little skirt. He pushed the blouse over her shoulders and down her arms, tossing it over the ledge of the sink.

Gibbs knew he wanted to take her right there, bend her over the table in her ballistics lab and fulfill every fantasy either one of them had ever had about the other. And if her imagination was as eccentric as the girl herself, he could only imagine the fantasies she had developed. But there would be time for that. When they were alone, away from NCIS, with no one to burst in on them and ruin the moment.

His hands came up and played along the lacy edges of her bra. "This too, Abbs. It's gotta come off." He let his hands drift down her body to settle on the curves of her hips. If she wanted this, wanted him, the next step would be hers. He couldn't help but smile a little at the unspoken challenge in his voice.

Unconsciously, Abby swayed closer at the touch of his hands on her curves. She lifted her chin a fraction of an inch as she contemplated the choice he had given her. Stay or walk away. He could almost see the wheels of her mind working out the possibilities, the consequences, the rewards of giving into what she wanted, what they both wanted.

Abby's hands came up behind her, smoothly, adeptly removing the scrap of fabric stuck to her body. She kept her eyes locked on his as the bra fell away, tossed over to join the shirt he had stripped off. Challenge met.

His smile widened then and the control slipped more firmly over him. Challenge met and received. Drifting higher, the hands resting at the arch of her hips moved towards the lower curve of her breasts. Thumbs slowly caressed the pouting flesh as she started to arc into his body. Her heated skin had started to moisten from the steam wafting up from the sink, and his thumbs created paths higher and higher over her plump breasts until they were just brushing over the tips of her nipples.

She swayed into him then, her knees almost buckling from the pleasure racing through her blood. She didn't know how much she was going to be able to take from their game of almost. Soon, she would need him to touch her, more than just the teasing touch he was giving her now. Her own hands came up to clasp his upper arms, trying to be careful to not wrinkle the fabric.

With another pass of his thumbs, Abby couldn't take it anymore. Her grip on his arms pulled him in as she gasped. "Gibbs, please." She wasn't above begging for his touch if that's what it took.

The words had barely passed from her mouth before he pressed his lips hard against hers. He angled his body against hers, pulling her tightly to him even as he pressed her backward against the edge of the sink. One of her hands reached over her head to press against the fogged glass behind to steady herself as his pelvis pressed into hers. Their bodies ground against each other, and he grasped her skull in a hand.

Teasing her lips open with his tongue, he moaned when hers came out to entangle and play with his. She absorbed his sounds into her mouth as he moved over her, her own groans coming from deep within her throat. His other arm wrapped around low on her hips, angling her for a closer contact with his groin.

Angling down her face, he broke contact with her lips, a sound between a whimper and a gasp escaping her. He pressed his lips against her throat, tongue flicking out to taste and absorb her pulse as he tried to calm his body. She tried to move against him, but he held her tighter, needing to find his center again. And her movements just weren't helping him with that.

"Gibbs?" she moaned, ready to start begging again. Head falling backward as his lips moved over her throat, she tried to catch her breath, tried to remember her surroundings.

"Hold still, Abbs. I need…" What he needed was her naked, spread out underneath him, with him thrusting deep inside of her, pounding into her welcome flesh. But they were at work, and it just wasn't the best place for their first time together. "Abbs, I need you, I want you, but not here. Not until I can take my time. Later."

Raising her head up to look at him, she asked, "Later? Promise?"

"Promise, Abbs." Moving her away from the sin, he reached behind her to turn the hot water off, smiling to himself at the handprint in the steam on the mirror. "Leave that there. I want to know that print is there, even if I can't see it."

Gibbs set her back down on her feet before reaching for the shirt he had disguarded earlier. Pressing it into her hands, he held it to her chest, the backs of his fingers brushing over her sensitive nipples one last time. "I'm gonna want this back," he explained, knowing she would understanding the meaning behind his words. "Later."

"Later," she echoed. Slipping the blue shirt over her arms, she pulled the soft material over her body. Her fingers deftly buttoned up the fabric, the smell of him lingering on her skin and the fabric.

"My shirt looks good on you, Abbs." He gave her a soft, half-smile as he leaned into kiss her one last time. "Later," he whispered, against her lips, a promise in his voice as he turned to leave her behind. Until later.