Up For Anything by linaerys

TITLE: Up For Anything
AUTHOR: linaerys
FANDOM, PAIRING: NCIS, DiNozzo/Abby
RATING: NC-17 and then some. Warnings for some minor kink and unconventional het. Let me know if it doesn't have enough kink to belong here.
WORDS: ~2100
SUMMARY: In NCIS 1.12 Tony and Kate have this conversation:
Tony: A tattoo means a girl is up for anything
Kate: Like Abby?
Tony: No comment
It proved inspirational.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Not making money.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: x-posted to


It had been a long week of fake bomb scares and a crime scene with so much physical evidence, Tony felt like he'd spent the whole week on dirty floors with a pair of tweezers. Now he sat in Abby's lab as she studied and catalogued that evidence, and catalogued and catalogued. She listened to some pounding, industrial music while Tony twirled around around in the tall lab chair.

"We caught the guy, Abby, why are we still here?" Tony asked. He tapped his pencil on the bench. "Why do you have all this colored tape?"

"Which one should I answer?" Abby licked her lips. Tony always wondered how she did that and kept the lipstick on, but some women's mysteries were probably left unsolved. Knowing Abby, it was probably mortuary makeup--meant to last for eternity, and Tony didn't really want to think about that too much.

"The one that lets me go home."

"It's not all glamour here, Tony. Just because you get to charge around with a gun, being all manly, doesn't mean that we don't have to eventually prove this stuff in court."

"Ah." Tony leaned back in his chair, almost lost his balance, and leaned forward again. "Anything I can do to help."

"That's sweet, Tony, but I'm almost done." She typed something into the computer, and a series of fingerprints appeared on the screen. "See, now we have a diagram showing that every single fingerprint recovered from the screen matches Commander Wilkinson. It will keep those tricksy lawyers from using any 'third man' defense."

"Does that ever work?"

"You'd be surprised how juries can interpret reasonable doubt. Surprised and scared. Did you hear about the rape case where the foreman refused to believe that two people could have sex standing up, so he didn't believe that the rape had actually occurred? Lots of physical evidence, and this old coot gets hung up on that one point."

"How could anyone not know that?" said Tony. He stood up and stretched. "Does this mean we're done?"

"Maybe. I'm a little too wired to sleep yet. Want to go for a drink?"

"Are you asking me out?" said Tony. He had been working at NCIS for a year, and he still didn't feel like he really had a good bead on Abby yet.

"More like in. I think you should come home with me," said Abby.

"Uh, sure?"

"Well, you're always flirting. You're attractive, I'm attractive. We should just get it out of the way."

"Well, when you put it that way . . ."

"Okay, let me clean up some stuff here, and I'll let you know when I'm getting ready to go tonight."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Tony went back to sit at Gibbs's desk, since the man was absent for once. The desk was neat--shipshape--just like the boss himself. Tony picked up a pen to chew on, then realized that Gibbs's crack criminal mind would not overlook such and obvious clue. Abby wanted him to come home with her? For sex? He'd never turned down sex with an attractive girl before, and he wasn't about to start now, but he'd also never been propositioned quite so matter-of-factly.

A few minutes later, Abby came by. "You coming?" she asked. Her coat was black suede patchwork, with very visible stitches. Tony wondered if it echoed autopsy stitches on purpose, but knowing Abby, it did.

"I'll follow you," said Tony. Abby drove like a maniac. Wonder what else she does like that, Tony thought as he followed her through the rain-slicked streets of Arlington.

At home, she really did have a coffin in her shoebox apartment. The walls were painted a glossy black, and the couch was upholstered in velvet the color of dried blood.

"Count Dracula do decorating, Abs?" Tony asked.

"No, but Lestat, does," she answered with a smile. Tony found himself mesmerized, not for the first time, by the wine dark of her lips.

"Should I kiss you or something?" he asked.

"If you want." So he did. He tasted her lipstick, which tasted like MAC: waxy and sweet and rich--high quality, no wonder it stayed on so well. He bit her lower lip, and felt her nails graze his neck and then scratch harder. Tutleneck day tomorrow.

"What next?" he asked when he came up for air. He was a little breathless, and his cock responded to her willingness with a mind of its own.

"You've got a great smile, Tony," she said. "I do have a bed, as well as a coffin. There's more space in a bed." She sat down on the couch and pulled off her boots and her skirt. Her legs were long and white, and the hair of her pussy was a dark as the hair on her head. She kept on her jewelry and her black fishnet top.

"You dye it there too?" Tony had to ask.

"I'm a thorough girl, Tony," she said with a saucy grin. "Now tell me, are you a thorough boy?"

"I can be," he said. She sat on the couch with her legs spread, and the inner lips of her pussy peaking through the black hair. Tony needed no more invitation. He kneeled in front of her, and licked those lips. Abby shuddered and buried her hands in his hair.

He used his tongue to spread her inner lips, and put it into her passage, and then moved up to her clit. He pushed one blunt finger into her, as he licked around her clit. She seemed to be enjoying it, and so he pushed another finger up into her.

"Yeah, yeah," she was saying. Her hips moved in a rhythm that he strove to match with his licking and the thrust of his hand. Finally, he found some timing or speed that was her perfect match, and she called out, "yeah, just that, just there, don't stop, don't--". She kept on rocking her pussy against his tongue and his fingers, until she finally cried out, moaning and inarticulate.

"You are thorough, Tony," she said after the contractions of her pussy had stopped, and after Tony had slowly took his fingers out.

"Not really. I didn't even have a chance to take my shirt off."

Abby licked her lips. "Well, don't let me stop you."

Tony unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, then took off the shoes and pants as well. "Not bad," she said, looking at him, as he stood naked in front of her.

"Where's that bed?"

"The couch." Abby pulled the pillows off of it, and hauled open the hide a bed beneath. The sheets smelled a little musty, like old incense, but Tony didn't mind. "Lie down," she said, "let me return the favor."

Tony lay back, and watched her lick her way up his leg. She bit his inner thigh, hard enough for him to feel that addictive rush of pleasure and pain. Then she gently licked the underside of his balls, that sensitive part. Then she cupped his balls in her cool hand and kept them pressed up a little while she stroked the underside and took his penis in her mouth.

While she was licking and swirling her tongue around his shaft, she also started stroking the skin behind his balls. With his moaning encouragement, she then lightly touched the skin around his anus. He felt his penis jerk and thicken from the pleasure of it--the contrast between the light touch of her finger on the most sensitive part of his anatomy, and the insistent suction of her mouth. Then, as he was hoping, begging, fearing she would, she pushed her finger firmly up into his ass.

Before he even realized it was happening, he spasmed and came in her mouth. "I'm sorry, Abby," he said once he could speak. "I should have warned you."

She grinned a little. "Maybe I should have warned you," she said. She licked her lips. "I have a lot of toys, Tony. You know?" she said significantly.

"I know," he said, without making eye contact with her. "I like what you're thinking." He turned over on his stomach, ostensibly to take off his watch, and pull his cell phone out of his pants--which had somehow ended up balled up under his head--but they both knew why.

"Hang on a second, Tony. Keep your socks on," she called out from across the room.

"They are," he said. He heard rustling, and clanking, and didn't even try to fight the response of his cock, which sprang to attention under him as if he hadn't just gotten an practiced blow job.

He didn't even know she'd come back over, but he felt her hair trail across his back, and then her fingernails following. Then he smelled the old familiar scent of KY, and felt the cool silky feeling of her lubricated fingers entering his ass again. She pressed expertly against his prostate, and then pulled out her fingers. Then he felt the touch of a silicone cock spreading his ass, impossibly wide. How big is it? he wondered, but his body knew better than his mind did, and he opened to let it in.

Her cock was up in him, and he could feel the leather straps that bound it to her, and when she leaned down to kiss his back, he felt her nipples trail across his skin. "How did you know?" he asked, with a catch in his voice.

"I don't know," she said, as she kissed his spine. "I could just tell."

She moved her cock slowly in and out, so he could feel the ridges in it. He hadn't looked, didn't want to, but he could tell it was one of the lifelike replicas she was wearing, complete with veins and skin texture. He could feel every one like it was a page of Braille and he was blind.

"You're such a tease," he gasped out. "Harder."

She didn't say anything, but ceded to his request, and pushed harder. He could feel himself getting close to another orgasm, and he reached down to jerk himself off, as Abby pounded into him, and finally he cried out, strangled and inarticulate as he came in his hand.

She pulled out quickly after, which Tony didn't like--he would have preferred feeling his internal muscles relax around her toy, and finally, when he'd come down from the high, feeling her pull out. She went to the bathroom and heard her run the water. Tony turned to see her silhouetted in the door to her bathroom, holding her toy by the straps.

"I don't know what to say, Abby," he said with an embarrassed grin.

"Say you had fun." She went over to her chest of drawers and tucked the equipment away. "Say I didn't make a bad judgment call inviting you home."

Tony's smile turned a little confused. "I don't think so," he said slowly.

"Good," she said. She had a way of saying that word, like she was deeply satisfied. "You always seemed like you'd be up for anything, but I wasn't sure how much was just posturing."

"Okay . . .," said Tony. "You don't kiss and tell, right?"

"You're a good friend, Tony. I'd never do anything to hurt you." She came over to the bed and put her hands on her hips. "Unless you asked nicely." Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Just so you know," she said as she climbed on top of him. "This is a one time thing." She moved one of his arms up above his head. "I'm not who you're looking for. I'm just a stop along the road." Tony opened his mouth to say something, but she put her finger to his lips.

[][][]

"DiNozzo? Rough night?" Gibbs called out when he found Tony slumped at his desk the next morning.

"Yeah, boss. Lots of, er--" Tony stretched, and ran his finger under the collar of his turtleneck, "--evidence to catalogue last night."

"Evidence, huh?" said Gibbs. "Well, if you're not tied up with anything now, how about a hand with these files."

Tony swallowed hard. Gibbs wore his usual opaque expression, a bland and innocent smile. "Sure, boss," said Tony.