like a memory pillow but with personality (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} skripka) wrote in ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} ncisfanfic,@ 2006-02-05 14:06:00 |
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Title: Five Kisses
Author: skripka
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Ready? *deep breath* McGee/Abby, Abby/Kate, Kate/Tony, Tony/Gibbs, Gibbs/Abby
Rating: PG
Summary: Kissing means something.
Disclaimer: Not mine at all.
Notes: Got this from someone who got it from somewhere else... I don't remember, really. I was half-asleep when I wrote it. And yes, Abby gets more kisses than anyone else. Do you blame me? (Slightly modified from the original version I posted in my LJ--hopefully improved)
Tim thinks Abby's got pretty much perfect lips. They're not too thin, not too full, firm yet yielding to his gentle probes.
And they taste like sugar and caffeine and lipstick.
Abby also doesn't keep her nails too long or too short, and Tim loves the way she drags them lazily over the bump on the back of his neck as they smooch, as she calls it with a lip-nibbling smile.
Tim doesn't really care, because he really just likes kissing Abby.
Abby has one rule about kissing girls; avoid the straight ones. In her experience, it can only lead to heartbreak. Or, more accurately, in her case, a severe case of overdosing on caffeine.
Considering the amount of caffeine she usually consumes, that's a scary proposition. So Abby doesn't. Kiss straight girls, that is. She's not sure Gibbs is up to talking her down from that space. Again.
But Kate is a little tipsy and a little handsy and she's not acting as straight as she usually does so who can blame Abby for moving her lips to intercept Kate's?
And who can blame her for enjoying it? Kate's hot. Even without the guns and the bravado, she's got gorgeous eyes and a lean, muscled body. Pretty hands, pretty hair and she smells really nice when she's close. Plus, Kate knows how to kiss.
None of which explains away the straight, but nobody would blame Abby. Hell, Tony would probably pay good money to see this.
She can always apologize to Gibbs afterwards.
Kate has a secret, too horrible, too scary to mention. She's the only one who knows about it, of course. She considered confiding in Abby, but, well, Abby's friends with everybody and she likes talking.
So Kate keeps this one to herself.
She kissed Tony.
Once.
On the lips.
That's not the secret. This is:
She liked it.
Tony had passed out on the floor next to her after a night of drinking at her place. Abby and McGee were snuggled together on Kate's couch, cozy-as-you-please, and Kate felt lonely as she struggled to sit up and make it to her own bed.
That's the only explanation she has for leaning down and brushing her lips over his. He smelled like cologne and tasted like breath mints and tequilla. Tony ended up mumbling something sleepily, lips quirked up in a smile, and rolling over.
If Tony had given any indication he had remembered the kiss, Kate would have had to shoot him. She has principles, after all.
Tony sighs and sucks on his pen cap as he studies his boss.
His mind is out for a quick jog around the block, or, as Kate is likely to point out, just plain out. Tony doesn't care. Gibbs understands that Tony needs to let his mind empty at random moments during the day.
It helps the thought processes.
Tony wonders what it'd take to stop Gibbs' thought processes. Something huge, he imagines. A bomb--but, no, they see bombs all the time. Maybe if all the fish in the Anacostia suddenly flung themselves at the office window--nah. Tony's not sure if there are fish who can live in the Anacostia. Maybe an exploding fish?
Something that shocks Gibbs--nothing big or dangerous. Tony taps his teeth and is hit with a flash of inspiration.
If Tony, somehow deciding to risk life and limb, were to stand up, march over to Gibbs desk, and wait patiently for Gibbs to notice him. Which would happen, because Gibbs notices stuff--it is his job, after all.
Gibbs would bark a question at Tony--and really, it wouldn't matter what the question was, because the important part happens next--and Tony could lean down, wrap his hands around Gibbs' gray-stubbled jaw and plant a big, wet one right on Gibbs' kisser.
If Tony were feeling extra reckless, he might even swipe his tongue over the top of Gibbs' lips.
There would, of course, be a really damn good chance Tony would be dead, so he'd have to take in the sight of a speechless and brain-fried Gibbs quickly.
Tony smiled. Yeah, he'd end up dead faster than he could say "Boo," but that'd definitely be a hell of a thing.
Kissing is hard. Kissing means something. Gibbs is solidly of the opinion that you should only kiss someone you're serious about.
Serious is hard.
Abby is fun.
Nothing explains why he keeps finding his lips on Abby's skin, other than he just does.
It's ridiculously easy to do. For someone who avoids sunlight and bright colors as much as she does, her skin tastes like... well, he'd say moonshine if he were inclined to poetry, which he's not, and if he didn't know what moonshine actually tasted like, which is nothing like Abby tastes like.
Gibbs curses at himself. He's starting to think like her, too.
This is not good.
But then he gets close to her again, and he smells her gunpowder and caffeine, and he puts his lips on her hair, her temple, her cheek, just to get closer to her. Sawdust would go well with her scent.
Gibbs won't invite her over, but she knows his door is always open. She'll show up and he'll invite her down...
And that's where he has to stop thinking, because it's time to give Abby a kiss and get back to work.
Author: skripka
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Ready? *deep breath* McGee/Abby, Abby/Kate, Kate/Tony, Tony/Gibbs, Gibbs/Abby
Rating: PG
Summary: Kissing means something.
Disclaimer: Not mine at all.
Notes: Got this from someone who got it from somewhere else... I don't remember, really. I was half-asleep when I wrote it. And yes, Abby gets more kisses than anyone else. Do you blame me? (Slightly modified from the original version I posted in my LJ--hopefully improved)
Tim thinks Abby's got pretty much perfect lips. They're not too thin, not too full, firm yet yielding to his gentle probes.
And they taste like sugar and caffeine and lipstick.
Abby also doesn't keep her nails too long or too short, and Tim loves the way she drags them lazily over the bump on the back of his neck as they smooch, as she calls it with a lip-nibbling smile.
Tim doesn't really care, because he really just likes kissing Abby.
Abby has one rule about kissing girls; avoid the straight ones. In her experience, it can only lead to heartbreak. Or, more accurately, in her case, a severe case of overdosing on caffeine.
Considering the amount of caffeine she usually consumes, that's a scary proposition. So Abby doesn't. Kiss straight girls, that is. She's not sure Gibbs is up to talking her down from that space. Again.
But Kate is a little tipsy and a little handsy and she's not acting as straight as she usually does so who can blame Abby for moving her lips to intercept Kate's?
And who can blame her for enjoying it? Kate's hot. Even without the guns and the bravado, she's got gorgeous eyes and a lean, muscled body. Pretty hands, pretty hair and she smells really nice when she's close. Plus, Kate knows how to kiss.
None of which explains away the straight, but nobody would blame Abby. Hell, Tony would probably pay good money to see this.
She can always apologize to Gibbs afterwards.
Kate has a secret, too horrible, too scary to mention. She's the only one who knows about it, of course. She considered confiding in Abby, but, well, Abby's friends with everybody and she likes talking.
So Kate keeps this one to herself.
She kissed Tony.
Once.
On the lips.
That's not the secret. This is:
She liked it.
Tony had passed out on the floor next to her after a night of drinking at her place. Abby and McGee were snuggled together on Kate's couch, cozy-as-you-please, and Kate felt lonely as she struggled to sit up and make it to her own bed.
That's the only explanation she has for leaning down and brushing her lips over his. He smelled like cologne and tasted like breath mints and tequilla. Tony ended up mumbling something sleepily, lips quirked up in a smile, and rolling over.
If Tony had given any indication he had remembered the kiss, Kate would have had to shoot him. She has principles, after all.
Tony sighs and sucks on his pen cap as he studies his boss.
His mind is out for a quick jog around the block, or, as Kate is likely to point out, just plain out. Tony doesn't care. Gibbs understands that Tony needs to let his mind empty at random moments during the day.
It helps the thought processes.
Tony wonders what it'd take to stop Gibbs' thought processes. Something huge, he imagines. A bomb--but, no, they see bombs all the time. Maybe if all the fish in the Anacostia suddenly flung themselves at the office window--nah. Tony's not sure if there are fish who can live in the Anacostia. Maybe an exploding fish?
Something that shocks Gibbs--nothing big or dangerous. Tony taps his teeth and is hit with a flash of inspiration.
If Tony, somehow deciding to risk life and limb, were to stand up, march over to Gibbs desk, and wait patiently for Gibbs to notice him. Which would happen, because Gibbs notices stuff--it is his job, after all.
Gibbs would bark a question at Tony--and really, it wouldn't matter what the question was, because the important part happens next--and Tony could lean down, wrap his hands around Gibbs' gray-stubbled jaw and plant a big, wet one right on Gibbs' kisser.
If Tony were feeling extra reckless, he might even swipe his tongue over the top of Gibbs' lips.
There would, of course, be a really damn good chance Tony would be dead, so he'd have to take in the sight of a speechless and brain-fried Gibbs quickly.
Tony smiled. Yeah, he'd end up dead faster than he could say "Boo," but that'd definitely be a hell of a thing.
Kissing is hard. Kissing means something. Gibbs is solidly of the opinion that you should only kiss someone you're serious about.
Serious is hard.
Abby is fun.
Nothing explains why he keeps finding his lips on Abby's skin, other than he just does.
It's ridiculously easy to do. For someone who avoids sunlight and bright colors as much as she does, her skin tastes like... well, he'd say moonshine if he were inclined to poetry, which he's not, and if he didn't know what moonshine actually tasted like, which is nothing like Abby tastes like.
Gibbs curses at himself. He's starting to think like her, too.
This is not good.
But then he gets close to her again, and he smells her gunpowder and caffeine, and he puts his lips on her hair, her temple, her cheek, just to get closer to her. Sawdust would go well with her scent.
Gibbs won't invite her over, but she knows his door is always open. She'll show up and he'll invite her down...
And that's where he has to stop thinking, because it's time to give Abby a kiss and get back to work.
