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Title: God Laughs/Things You Can't Take Back
Pairing: Abby Sciuto/Tony DiNozzo
Rating: R for language
Spoilers: general, vague, broadly sweeping things for season three
Notes: WIP. Concrit, feedback, please and thanks. This is the one I was hesitant about.
Series: 1) God Laughs/Distractions, 2) God Laughs/Things You Can't Take Back
Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Ziva drives badly. Gibbs surprises Abby. McGee talks too much. Tony acts like an ass. Abby uses some strong language.
"Jesus! Do you think you could manage to not get us killed? Gibbs would be just a little upset if we died before we brought this guy in," Tony braced himself against the dash as they screeched to a stop at the red light, close enough to the car in front of them for him to read the fine print on the driver's coffee cup.
"Tony, if I were going to kill you, it would be a far more private affair," Ziva smiled sweetly. "Did you have a nice evening?"
"Uh-huh," he glared at her for another moment, wondering what the in hell was wrong with her. And what was wrong with him that he kept letting her drive. He wasn't this much of a masochist, not really.
"Did you spend it with Abby?" her sweet smile changed into a vague smirk.
"As a matter of fact yes. We had dinner and watched a movie," he said, his stomach lurching as she slammed on the gas.
"Tell me something, Tony. Why do American men have so much trouble with relationships?"
"Because women are insane," he squeezed his eyes closed and said a quick prayer as she wove in and out of traffic on the two lane highway.
"But you must find the insanity alluring or you wouldn't date so many women."
"That insanity is exactly why I date so many women. A woman can look completely normal from the outside, but then you buy her dinner, maybe have a little naked time, and she turns out to be a stark-raving nut."
"But you haven't had so many dates lately, have you, Tony?"
"Why are you suddenly so interested in my personal life, Ziva?"
"I told you, I'm trying to understand relationships."
"I'm really the wrong person to ask. What I do, those aren't relationships."
"Do tell me, what are they?"
"Moments. They're nice moments briefly shared before she reveals herself to be crazy and before I move on."
"So you're having moments with Abby? Does she know that's all they are?"
"I already know she's crazy," he smiled to himself as he climbed out of the car.
"Caf-Pow and a Clown Cake? Gibbs, it's not my birthday," Abby gleefully accepted her junk food, placing it near her computer. "New case?"
"Just a visit," he pulled the other chair over and sat down.
"What's going on, Gibbs? You never just come down here."
"You weren't home last night," he said, looking at her for a long moment.
"I stayed at Tony's. He gives the best massages, by the way," she said as she clicked various windows closed. The Clown Cake wrapper crackled loudly as she tore it open, offering Gibbs half. He shook his head.
"Don't know how you eat those damned things, actually," he took a sip of coffee, not quite sure what to say.
"Eh, sugar is sugar except when it's not," she shrugged. "So, really, why are you here?"
"McGee and David are torturing Tony, and I didn't want to have to shoot them. Too much paperwork," he stood up then, giving her a slightly crooked smile before pressing his lips to her forehead.
"Gibbs?" she caught his arm as he started to walk away.
"You don't have anything to worry about," she squeezed his hand for a moment, then turned back to work.
"Ah, just the man I wanted to see," Abby whirled in her chair to face him, grin freezing then falling then reappearing as she spotted the gallon of soda in his hand. "McGee. I was hoping for Ducky, actually, but you come bearing gifts of caffeine. It was time for a refill. From the Bossman, I presume?"
"Your presumption is correct. I also come bearing cold case files."
"How cold? Are we talking chilly Wisconsin winter or Ice Ages?"
"A little from column A, a little from column B," he shrugged, laying the files on her table. "Listen, are you free tonight? I thought maybe we could get dinner or something."
"I can't, I'm sorry," she flipped through idly through the test results, sorting them into piles of "deadly boring," "naptime" and "better than watching paint dry."
"Plans with Tony?" McGee asked carefully, studying his feet.
"You're spending a lot of time with him lately."
"I am, yes," she so didn't want to have this conversation. She crossed to another of the tables, staring at the rows of evidence bags. "No more than you're spending Ziva," she added under her breath.
"Is that a good idea, Abs? I mean, he's Tony and you're you," he struggled to find the right words.
"And we're friends, McGee."
"The way we were friends?" he met her eyes across the table. She took a quick breath and a step back from the table. "You know if you keep this up, Abs, you'll run out of co-workers to fuck."
"That's not fair, and you know it, Tim."
"There's more than one reason the guys in the mailroom call you Energizer Abby," he smirked, going in for the kill. From the look on her face, he'd hit home and he was immediately sorry. She just stood there for a moment, lower lip quivering just a tiny bit.
"Get out of my lab, McGee," she finally said, slamming the door to her office hard enough to rattle the windows.
"Stop it!" Gibbs grabbed Tony, shoving him back. McGee just glared, wiping blood from his nose. He shook off Ziva's hand and climbed up from the floor of the garage. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Shut the hell up, McGee. You're both suspended for a week. The next one to open his mouth is fired, you got me?" Gibbs looked from one to the other. Neither looked at him, but continued glaring at each other. Ziva pushed McGee toward her car, and Gibbs stood next to Tony until they had driven away.
"Boss..." Tony decided to take his chances. Gibbs just shook his head.
"I know. There are rules, DiNozzo. You know that," he said through clenched teeth. "I'll cover your ass with the Director but don't you ever put me in this position again."
"Right, Gibbs," Tony found a crumpled napkin in his pocket and wiped the back of his hand.
"She can fight her own battles. The next time you forget that, I will shoot you. Now go home."
"You stupid son of a bitch," Abby didn't even wait for him to fully open the door before she began ripping into him. "You could've hurt him, you could've gotten yourself fired. Gibbs could have shot you, and frankly, I wouldn't have blamed him. What in the blue hell were you thinking?"
"Um, hi. I'm fine, thanks for asking. And how are you?" Tony just moved out of her way, picking up his beer, and letting her pace and rant. Seemed safer that way.
"And now you're making jokes. How am I? I'm fucking pissed, that's how I am. Do you even understand what you did, Tony? You assaulted a co-worker, who could press charges, and then you'd lose everything, everything, Tony," she grabbed the beer out of his hand and slammed it to the table.
"Probie wouldn't do that. Besides, he took a swing at me first," Tony lifted his tee-shirt, where a small bruise was forming over his ribs. "I just went to talk to him. Wasn't my fault. If you're going to yell, can you do it at the Chinese takeout place? I don't feel like cooking."
"Stupid macho bullshit," she muttered, stomping into the kitchen. "Kate was right, you're a fucking idiot."
"What would you rather I'd done, Abby?" Tony leaned against the counter while she yanked the stack of menus out of the drawer.
"Left it alone. I didn't tell you about the conversation so you could go beat him up," she slams the drawer and yanks the phone out of the base. "You know what, order your own damned food."
"Does that mean you're not staying for dinner?" he asked as she shoved the phone into his hand.
"It means I'm going to go take a shower and calm down. Then you are going to explain to me exactly how this happened, and if I can find it in my heart to forgive you, I might remember that we had a deal that starts tonight," she said, anger receding as she touched his bruised knuckles. "I know you were trying to do the right thing."
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