Chapter 205: Carpe Diem
A/N: Okay Lovies, today we've got multi-media fan fiction.
Okay, click on that puppy, and get reading!
Come to the lab.
The thing about being an expecting father is that, when your wife sends you a somewhat cryptic text, you end up responding to it almost before you got it.
So, it was roughly forty seconds after Tim got that text that he was in the lab, nerves jangling with the adrenaline rush. But once down there, nothing looked out of place. Abby's at the computer working away, apparently fine.
"What?" That sounds kind of annoyed, mostly a I ran down here for nothing? sort of vibe.
She turned and smiled at him. "Dance with me."
"What?" This time it was clear disbelief in his voice.
"Found a great song. Want to dance to it. Need a partner."
"We have sex in here, and you think dancing is going too far?"
"We don't do that during business hours. And it's…" he checked his watch, "1:43. Very much business hours."
"Come on. Anyone asks, you're humoring my insane pregnant hormones."
"You can say that again." He held out his hand and she took it, stepping into him and clicking on the stereo.
"This is dance music?" he asked, his hand settling on the small of her back. It's a steady, quiet little guitar riff. Not bad, but nothing making him think, gotta move.
"It will be."
And in a few seconds, when the drums came in, he caught what she was thinking, and began a slow steady two step. It's a classic slow dance beat.
"Is this a song about self-mutilation?" he asked as a few of the lyrics caught his attention.
"Shhh… Pretty music," she said, swaying against him.
She's right, the music is pretty, nice steady beat, the singer's voice is pleasant, and British accent is strong enough he's not having an easy time following exactly what the lyrics are, and that's probably a good thing.
They were maybe two minutes into the song when he heard, "Agent and Mrs. McGee, what are you doing?"
Agent Tim McGee had a pretty standard response to this, namely leaping back from Abby, blushing, looking embarrassed, and focusing his full attention on Director Vance.
Tim McGee, soon to be head of NCIS Cybercrime, DC Division had a somewhat different one. One that was, hopefully, respectful enough of Leon and his position, but demonstrated he was no longer willing to be cowed by the man: "Humoring my pregnant wife, Sir," he answered Vance without stopping dancing.
Abby slapped him on the shoulder, and he dipped her back, gently, can't go too far back seven months pregnant. The two step beat had shifted, so a holding move seemed to be worth putting into play.
"Seizing the day, Leon." Abby said when he pulled her back up. "Never know when I'll get my next chance to dance with my husband. We'll be done in about two minutes."
"Fine." Leon looked exasperated, but headed out of the lab.
"If anyone would understand, it's Leon."
"Well, yeah, but isn't that rubbing salt in the wound?"
"I hope not. Rumor has it he's dating again. I hope it's a reminder to go for it."
"I hope he takes it that way."
"He will. Now shush. Dancing with your girls, not worrying about Leon."
"Yes, dear."
Abby kissed him gently, smiled, and he smiled back, shook his head a little, and kissed her forehead, then she rested her head on his shoulder, two stepping away with him as the song wrapped up.
All photos are from the lovely Leticia, who runs a fabulous McAbby blog over on tumblr. Love McAbby? Go check her out!
No comments:
Post a Comment