"Waffles are always good, especially when accompanied by caffeine," Abby said with a sage nod as she slipped onto the seat next to Boromir at the bar.
"The usual, please," she asked the bar, and it produced her big-gulp of sugarly carbonated caffiene, as usual. Smiling, she sipped at the drink happily. And people wondered why she was so perky all the time.
"I don't think I've seen you around here," she told the man, cocking her pigtailed head to one side.
"Makes sense." Another nod, and another sip from her drink. At least Abby's not working off of Red Bull like that time she drank about seventeen at one party.
"I'm Abigail Sciuto, by the way." She felt an odd need to actually tell him her real name. Maybe it was the whole warrior thing going on. She stuck her hand out for a handshake with a friendly grin.
Well, that certainly wasn't what she expected. It seemed that this man was quite a gentleman. Not that Abby minded at all. Oh, no. It was a pleasant change in attitude compared to the military men she usually dealt with.
"Abby's fine. Abigail sounds...so formal." And old. "No one calls me that, anyway." Except for Ducky, but he was the exception.
"And it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Boromir." And no, Abby is not going to point out how the name Boromir is familiar to her. No matter how tempting it is.
"Would I be right when I guess you're a military man type?" She asked, cocking her head.
Good lady? Abby definitely knew that Tony would snicker if he heard that. Hell, even Gibbs might. But then Kate would kick Tony and she could tease Gibbs about his inability to deal with technology, so it was all good.
"That's what I thought. I work with military types, so I can usually tell." Sure, Abby, sure. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she loved fantasy, did it?
"Ah . . . you come from a time like my friend Sara's, I suspect. Women are not soldiers in my time, but I understand they are warriors or work for the City Guard in others."
"Sara?" Definitely sounded like a name from her time. And she had seen many people who seemed to be from her time, so there was a good chance that she was. If she was from the same world, however, was another story.
"I'm not exactly the warrior type..." That much was apparent from her build. Abby rarely went out into the field and was quite pale, too. That could happen if you were holed up in a lab all day.
"But yes, there are women who fight. My friend Kate's one. She used to be part of a team that protected the president." She paused, knowing that the term probably wouldn't flow. "That's basically someone like a king."
"You bet," Abby said in response to Kate being in an honorable position. She was proud for her friend, and glad to have her as a part of the NCIS team.
"I don't. Like I said, I don't fight. I do forensics. That's basically..." Hm, how to explain this to a man from Gondor. "Finding evidence at a crime scene. Murder, rape, kidnappings... I look for any clues to find out who did it. I process the evidence. Get my hands dirty, so to speak."
Abby guessed that this Sara girl was probably part of a police force. She was going to need to see if she could find her. Maybe they could talk techniques and technology.
"Sadly, yes. I guess it's a part of human nature. Jealousy, rage, need for revenge..." Abby shrugged her shoulders. At her age, she had already seen quite a lot. "But I work for a branch where the cases are limited to the involvement of military men. That is, both as victims and suspects."
"I see . . . like an inquiry board. We have something like that, to keep soldiers in line. It is difficult, at times, when men are trained for fighting, to keep the fighting to against the enemy.
"Though our enemy takes up so much time and energy there is no reason for soldiers to take out their aggressions on each other."
"Most of the time, the military men -- and women -- are usually the victims. That's how we hear about the cases, mostly. And it's not always violence. A lot of times, they go missing. Or illegal activities like smugglng or drugs. But unfortunately, there are the occasional murders.
But some are involved in the guilty party. There was a man who killed his best friend to cover up the fact that he was sleeping with his friend's wife." That had ended ugly, from what Abby had heard from Kate and Tony.
"Yeah. Those are the cases that really suck rock. Sometimes I think the outright murders from hate are better." Abby did live in a sad, twisted little world, when you thought about it. But she also thrived in it. It was where she belonged.
"But you know. I get paid because of the cases, so I guess I can't really complain much," she said with a shrug.
Oh. It would make sense that Boromir wouldn't understand slang. Well, most people didn't really understand Abby-speak anyway, but that was another story.
"Oh, it means that it's no fun. Bad. Depressing. Take your pick, really."
"The work, per say, doesn't suck rock. It's just the cases that do. I mean, considering the fact that I stay down in my lab all day, it's pretty easy to detach myself from the actual cases. Don't see faces, just the facts. Sure, I have to deal with dead human parts and stuff, but I'm used to that. Grew up with it, even.
The work...well, it's really kind of an art. Or so I see it, anyway. And I like what I do, especially when I help crack cases." Kinda felt like you were a detective or a superhero.
"I do not know entirely what you mean by 'lab', or how such a place would assist in solving a crime. The city watch will qestion witnesses and examine a scene, but we can only learn what our eyes tell us. There is no alchemy involved."
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"The usual, please," she asked the bar, and it produced her big-gulp of sugarly carbonated caffiene, as usual. Smiling, she sipped at the drink happily. And people wondered why she was so perky all the time.
"I don't think I've seen you around here," she told the man, cocking her pigtailed head to one side.
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"I'm Abigail Sciuto, by the way." She felt an odd need to actually tell him her real name. Maybe it was the whole warrior thing going on. She stuck her hand out for a handshake with a friendly grin.
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"Abby's fine. Abigail sounds...so formal." And old. "No one calls me that, anyway." Except for Ducky, but he was the exception.
"And it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Boromir." And no, Abby is not going to point out how the name Boromir is familiar to her. No matter how tempting it is.
"Would I be right when I guess you're a military man type?" She asked, cocking her head.
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"That's what I thought. I work with military types, so I can usually tell." Sure, Abby, sure. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she loved fantasy, did it?
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"I'm not exactly the warrior type..." That much was apparent from her build. Abby rarely went out into the field and was quite pale, too. That could happen if you were holed up in a lab all day.
"But yes, there are women who fight. My friend Kate's one. She used to be part of a team that protected the president." She paused, knowing that the term probably wouldn't flow. "That's basically someone like a king."
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"I don't. Like I said, I don't fight. I do forensics. That's basically..." Hm, how to explain this to a man from Gondor. "Finding evidence at a crime scene. Murder, rape, kidnappings... I look for any clues to find out who did it. I process the evidence. Get my hands dirty, so to speak."
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"Sadly, yes. I guess it's a part of human nature. Jealousy, rage, need for revenge..." Abby shrugged her shoulders. At her age, she had already seen quite a lot. "But I work for a branch where the cases are limited to the involvement of military men. That is, both as victims and suspects."
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"Though our enemy takes up so much time and energy there is no reason for soldiers to take out their aggressions on each other."
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But some are involved in the guilty party. There was a man who killed his best friend to cover up the fact that he was sleeping with his friend's wife." That had ended ugly, from what Abby had heard from Kate and Tony.
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"But you know. I get paid because of the cases, so I guess I can't really complain much," she said with a shrug.
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"Oh, it means that it's no fun. Bad. Depressing. Take your pick, really."
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The work...well, it's really kind of an art. Or so I see it, anyway. And I like what I do, especially when I help crack cases." Kinda felt like you were a detective or a superhero.
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