Chapter One

Abby gets Involved

a/n And in over her head, although she doesn't know it yet.

The two guys were leaning over the swaying girl, acting concerned. It was the third, semi-conscious girl in a week that she had seen the men paying attention to.

Abby Sciuto liked to people watch. It was one of her favorite parts of going to clubs and bars. And normally, she let the chips fall where they may. If someone was acting stupid, that was their problem. But she was beginning to think these two guys were serious creeps.

With a push, she came to her feet. In her wedge-heeled hooker boots, she was nearly 6'4", and her short, black lace dress, studded dog color, dark make-up, and feathery black curls identified her as a fun-time goth. Purposefully, she stomped across the room and pulled the staggering girl from between the men.

"I'm so glad I found you!" she crowed. Abby watched the confusion slowly worm it's way into the girl's unfocused eyes. Before she could give the game away, Abby threw an arm around her shoulder. "Come on. Jake's gonna be angry that we ditched him."

"Huh?" the girl mumbled.

One of the guys, the taller, thinner one with fine blond hair, finally tried to intercede. "Listen, lady, you friend is hanging out with us. Maybe you should just let her stay."

Abby turned the full force of her piercing gaze on the man. "I don't think that's such a good idea. She's hosed. And you're leering. So back off before I call the cops."

With angry mutters and some serious glaring, the two pushed their way through the crowd and toward the exit.

Abby waited a few minutes, then rolled her eyes and started half-carrying the girl. They reached the bar, and she pushed the stranger down onto one of the stools.

Lexy, the bartender, hurried over. "What's up, Abs? Who's the chick?" Alexa Hurst was 40, with more tats then Abby, but the same twisted interests. They had become friends when they both realized they considered guys wearing straight jackets hot.

"I think those douches put something in her drink," Abby shrugged. "Will you watch her while I call a taxi?"

"Sure, hon. Go for it." Alexa poured the girl a glass of water, and set it in front of her. As Abby moved away, she could already hear Lexy lecturing the girl about taking drinks from strangers.

She stood outside and dialed the taxi service she normally used. Abby knew the statistics about drunk driving and firmly believed it was a bad idea, even if she'd only had two drinks.

"Lenny, here. What can I do ya for?" the Bronx-tinged accent answered.

"Hiya, Lenny. It's Abby Sciuto."

"Abby! Great ta hear from ya, girly. Where ya at tonight?"

"Trinity Chaos. It's the one-"

"I know where it's at, sweetheart. I'll send Roger over right as soon as he drops off the arse he's cartin' around right now."

"Thanks, Lenny!"

"No problem, darlin'. Night."

"Night."

Then Abby looked down at her phone again and considered. Finally, she bit her lip and called McGee. It rang four times before he finally picked up.

"Tim McGee here," he yawned. "Who is this?"

"McGee, I need your help!"

"Abby?" She could hear him reaching for something, probably his watch, and sitting up in bed. "You do realize it's three a.m., right?"

"That's not important, McGee," Abby started pacing. "There's this girl who I just saved from some guys who I think where planning to rape her. And I don't know what to do with her."

"Call the police, Abs. It's kind of what they're there for."

"But it's bigger than that, McGee! I don't have any proof. You know how fast some of those drugs go through the system. By the time anyone comes, they'll already be mostly gone. Not to mention that, if she had anything to drink, the police would say that was like consenting, since she probably would have slept with the guys anyway if she got drunk enough. And this is the third one this week!"

"What are you talking about, Abby?"

"These creeps keep showing up and hitting on girls. I watched them leave with two other girls on other nights. And I haven't seen either of the girls since then."

There was silence, and then McGee spoke, serious. "Abby, how exactly did you get her away from the guys?"

She rolled her eyes. "I pretended to be her friend and just grabbed her and said we needed to leave."

"Anything else?"

"I might've threatened to call the cops if they didn't leave us alone."

"Abby! Now those men can recognize you. You might have put yourself in danger!"

"Don't be silly, McGee. They probably just thought I was an overprotective friend of hers."

"But we don't know that for sure, Abby. Call the cops. Or Gibbs. But do not just let this slide because you're afraid no one will be able to find any evidence."

"I can't call Gibbs! He needs his sleep! Especially after how long it took you guys to wrap up that terrorist thing this week."

McGee sighed. "Fine. But do call the police. Just make a report. Tell them you work for NCIS, and they'll take you more seriously. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Timmy."

"My pleasure. Night, Abby."

"Technically, it's morning."

Abby chuckled as she heard McGee groan, then hang up.

As she walked back into the bar, she considered her options. She'd call the police in the morning, and just suggest they put someone undercover in the bar. Maybe that way the guys would actually get caught in the act. And she'd let the girl sleep at her place. Maybe draw some blood so she could do her own tests when she went into the lab tomorrow.

With a yawn, she checked the time on her phone. 3:14. It was Abby's bedtime.