Author: achillies_eel
Prompt: Research
Fandom: NCIS
Rating: M (mature)
Author's Website: Achillies_eel's Page
Author's Notes: This was done in one go, before I lost my Muse, so if there are any oddities, it's not intentional!


"It was just... I was just looking out for Timmy! Remember what happened last time with that crazy psycho chick from Africa that hit on Timmy so she could get to Kai, and she had a gun and almost killed him, and what if that happened again, I don't think I could forgive myself-"

"Abby. Breathe."

She did. And found that that slight, faint pain she'd been feeling wasn't really that faint after all, and maybe Not Breathing for minutes at a time wasn't something to do in the future.

Gibbs, thankfully, gave her a moment to catch her breathe before he lit into her.

Though maybe icing into her was a better description.

"I told you not to look her up, Abs," he said calmly. Abby swallowed, and tried very hard to sink into the floor of the basement.

Basement, floor. Maybe that's how he gets the boat out of here.

Momentarily side tracked, she studied the floor carefully for possible loose floor boards, mind going into overdrive as she contemplated the possibilities, but was stopped quickly enough by a light grip on her chin.

"Abby. Concentrate."

One word answers could be so scary sometimes. She took a deep breath, held it, and nodded rapidly to show that she was trying, oh yes she was, and could he please put the paddle away, because it was really starting to scare her, pretty please?

She must have said it out loud, because a hint of a smile appeared before it could be stifled, the slight crinkling of his eyes staying as he tapped her lightly on the cheek.

"Don't look at it, then. Look at me."

Gripping her hands tightly together to stop them from shaking, she obeyed.

"When I tell you something Abby, I expect you to listen. I don't like wasting my breath. Did you, or did you not, hear me when I told you not to check up on her?"

She opened her mouth, closed it. A stubborn look appeared on her face.

All traces of humour vanished in that split second, and the thunderously stern look that appeared on his face made Abby's temporary defiance give a quiet whimper, curl in on itself and die.

"Abby. Did. You. Or. Did. You. Not?"

"I-okay, so I heard you, but Gibbs, I had to double check-"


It was said very, very quietly, and with a finality that Abby, to her horror, found that she recognised with a painful clarity.


"You disobeyed me, Abs. You disobeyed me, and in the process, you broke numerous laws, hurt Tim's feeling, and possibly ruined your friendship for life. You don't break your team-mates' trust like that, ever. And you do not," he added firmly and just as quietly, "break the law without my permission. Is that clear, Abigail?"

She gave him a look of tearful denial, knowing that as soon as she agreed he would Begin. And she would do anything in her power to delay that moment.

"Abby, I won't ask you again. Do you want me to use this for the entirety of your punishment?"

No, she thought in horror, stammering out her agreement and nodding her head so violently she knew she'd be feeling it the next day.

Among other things, her mind supplied darkly for her. She shut it up with a viciousness that might have shocked her, had she not been concentrating so hard on her doomed backside.

Gibbs gave a short nod of satisfaction and kissed her swiftly on the forehead before turning her around by the shoulders.

"You know what to do."

But I don't want to! Abby wanted to wail. But she knew – on some very, very distant level – that she deserved this for all the havoc she had caused the past few days, and if nothing else, because of how much it had hurt Tim. And besides, no delay was worth the Paddle throughout an entire spanking. That had only happened once, and wow, no repeat necessary, thank you very much.

Still fighting tears, she stumbled towards Gibbs's half-finished boat, struggling to fit her head and torso through the wooden skeleton. About half way through, as she was trying to avoid bashing her head against the wooden bars, strong hands gently lifted her hips and corrected her position, resting a hand lightly on her back for a moment before retreating.

Although fully aware of what was coming next and how monumentally painful it was going to be, Abby felt her self relax a fraction at the touch. While she might hate it while it was happening (and while she knew she would be feeling this every time she sat down for the next few days), she trusted Gibbs not to hurt her unduly, and knew that he knew that too and would never betray that trust.

Didn't change the fact that it was going to hurt like a bitch, though.

I swear I'll never disobey Gibbs again, she pleaded to no one in particular as she felt him shift into position behind her. And I'll… I'll donate to charity! Donate blood! Volunteer… at the children's hospital three times a week instead of two! Just please, God, Buddha, Homer, whoever, don't let this hurt too much!

The hand that moments ago had been comforting returned to her back, the pressure a bit stronger than before. The other hand reached down to her plaid skirt, lifted it carefully onto her back; it hesitated for a second, but then reached for her skull-and-crossbones panties and pulled those down and out of the way as well. The cool air of the basement wafted against her bottom, making her hyper aware of how vulnerable her position was, hampered on all sides by wooden beams, bottom bared and immobilised effortlessly – a shock, even though she'd almost been expecting it. It certainly wasn't a surprise, not by this time.

Despite this, Abby tried to stifle a whimper, and failed.

The hand on her back rubbed gently again for a moment, before stilling. Abby braced herself as she felt the air behind her shift - having, for the most part, resigned herself to her fate and resolved to take it like the adult she was.



The first one always took her by surprise, no matter how much she braced herself, and this time was no different. But tonight, for some reason, he seemed to be hitting a bit harder than usual.

And you know why that is, her mind whispered at her sternly. You shouldn't have been poking your nose around where it didn't belong! Next time, let's use our BRAIN and listen to Gibbs; nothing is worth this much discomfort.

It took only another dozen swats - spread evenly across her wriggling bottom – for Abby to start sniffling and trying to get away from the punishing hand. She was unsuccessful.

The hand on her back clamped down tighter still, restraining her even as the swats rained down harder, hitting skin already pinkened from the previous on slot.

Soon, staying quiet and still became a thing of the past.

As her bottom moved from shades of pale, to pink, to dark pink to cherry red, Abby in turn wailed, struggled, pleaded and promised him everything and anything under the sun as long as he'd just stop already. And throughout, the hand never stopped swinging like a pendulum in its consistency: striking, smacking, punishing; and soon enough, even words failed her as she slipped into helpless sobs.

Eventually, though, the smacks stopped, and Abby was able to catch her breath as much as she could while crying, glad beyond words that it was finally over.

Until something cold, flat and unyielding touched her inflamed cheeks.

At her gasp of weepy dismay, Gibbs finally spoke, but with a touch of sympathy this time that had been lacking previously: "We've got just a bit more to go, Abs; you did good. Just hang on for another minute, okay?"

It was difficult, but she managed to control crying long enough to whisper a sad, "'kay."

The Comforting Hand, as she'd come to think of it, rubbed gentle circles into her back until her tears dwindled into the occasional sob. When she'd reached that point, the hand gave her a pat, and settled back into its previous position.

Abby closed her eyes tightly, bit her lip, and told herself it was almost over.

Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.

Searing, blinding pain. She heard someone howl in anguish, but it took her a moment to realise it was her, and by then she was sobbing so hard she was having trouble breathing.

The Comforting Hand disappeared for a moment, and Abby thought frantically about calling it back, needing it to come back. But she needn't have worried; gently and ever so carefully, the previously punishing, unforgiving hand guided her into place on his lap, thoughtfully replacing her underwear and flipping her skirt down for privacy. Abby was so blinded by the pain by this time that she wasn't sure she would even have noticed.

"Shhhhh, Abs, it's okay, it's over now. Shhhhh, take deep breaths for me, will you?"

Deep breath. Yes. She could do that.

"Shhh, you're forgiven, calm down now."

Forgiven. Forgiven. Yes. She knew that word. Forgiven.

And despite the pain and discomfort, when Abby drifted off to sleep that night - lying on the couch, her head in Gibbs's lap, her bottom carefully not touching anything - she did so with a smile on her face.

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