Author's note: This is a fairly short story, and it's *almost* finished. I know I really shouldn't post it as I already have too many WIPs, but I just couldn't resist. There's probably about 6 chapters all up- I've written 4 so far. This isn't a songfic, but I got the idea from a song called 'Be My Downfall' by Del Amitri. Hope you like it; the first chapter is really short. F.

Disclaimer: I own nothing about NCIS. Pity.

He looked up at the building in front of him and sighed. It had been almost two years since he'd worked here. Two years since he'd been part of Gibbs' team. Two years since he'd ripped part of himself away and transferred, leaving against his will and disappointing the team that he'd worked so hard to be assigned to. Not that they blamed him; it had been the only solution to a difficult situation. He sighed again. Most of them hadn't blamed him, at least. He wondered if she'd forgiven him for leaving; surely she couldn't keep a grudge for two years? He knew he'd hurt her, but he hadn't had a choice. Working here had been killing him slowly.

And now he'd returned, temporarily at least. The Director had insisted that this time, whatever special job he had in mind couldn't be done over a computer link. So here he was, trying to gather the nerve to walk into a building that used to be like home to him. He promised himself he wouldn't look at his old desk as he walked through the squad room. Squaring his shoulders, he walked through the main entrance, passed through security and boarded the elevator. He was early for his appointment with Vance; by design. He wanted to get upstairs before any of his old teammates spotted him.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he saw he'd misjudged his timing. One of the four desks in the bullpen was occupied. He swallowed. There was nothing for it. He paused at the edge of the occupied desk, waiting a moment for the man seated there to register his presence. Soon he raised his head, a question obviously on his lips. As he took in the identity of the visitor, his face split into a wide smile and he stood up from the desk in surprise.

"Probie?"

Tony was around the desk in a moment, grabbing McGee in a quick bear hug

"What are you doing here?"

McGee shrugged. "Vance called me late last night, told me to report at 0700."

"Man, it's been what. Over a year since you left?"

"Two years, Tony. Almost."

"It's good to see you, Probie."

Before he could reply, someone spoke from behind him

"Morning, Tony"

He froze. He knew that voice; it had haunted his dreams for years. Steeling himself, he slowly turned and looked at the woman he'd once asked to marry him.

Abby.