a different kind of studying.

antimony pentafluoride

(Original Author)

Antimony Pentafluoride

Tetrafluoroboric Acid

Phosphorus Triiodide

The unfamiliar list of chemical compounds scrolled seemingly endlessly before Abby Sciuto's tired, unreceptive eyes. She absentmindedly rolled the ends of her jet black pigtails between her fingers, desperately attempting to decipher the chemical puzzle whose outcome seemed just beyond her reach.

Antimony Pentafluoride

Tetrafluoroboric Acid

Phosphorus Triiodide

Caf-Pow cups littered her workspace, a testament to the prolonged hours she had spent sedentarily seated in front of her computer monitor. In those hours, she had repetitively familiarized herself on every measurable, quantifiable aspect of those compounds. She was knowing of their highly corrosive acidity and basicity. She was knowing of their universal applications to the real world. She was knowing even of the biological repercussions if a single one of the recognized compounds fell into the wrong hands, yet she could not distinguish their relevancy to one another in any reasonable context.

Antimony Pentafluoride

Tetrafluoroboric Acid

Phosphorus Triiodide

The female forensic scientist continued to stare impassively at the list ions and compounds displayed for her fatigued eyes. Just as she was about to resign her efforts until the morning, a rough, yet gentle, hand grazed her shoulder.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here this late Abbs," Gibbs glanced at the incomprehensible numbers and letters scattered on the screen in front of the young woman.

"Yeah, well I wasn't expecting to be here either. But it's like I get close to figuring it out then BOOM! It's back to the beginning and then I have to start over... and over... and over... and over..." She yawned.

Gibbs glanced over to the concerning mound of caffeinated cups on the counter.

"Abby," he spoke her name softly before raising his tone, "how much caffeine have you had today?"

He began gathering and removing the litter from her workspace in an almost paternal manner.

"I don't know, but I need more." She swung around on her swivel chair to face the familiar man.

Instead, he dumped the remainder of the empty cups into the trash where they joined many of the same. "No, you don't need any more tonight. Just take a break, go home and sleep. Everything will still be here, as you left it, in the morning," He leaned down and gently kissed her pale cheek, lingering for perhaps a second longer than necessary. "I mean it."

She tilted her head up and met his eyes. Abby scowled at him briefly before turning back to her work.

"But Gibbs! I'm close this time! I'm really close, I can feel it!" She attempted to persuade him, although she honestly considered herself no closer to interpreting the data than she was hours ago.

In a futile effort to stay longer, she swung her feet in the air, like a small child flailing during a tantrum. However, the disapproving glare etched onto the older man's face put an end to her display almost immediately.

"What if I don't?" Even if her demeanor hinted at nothing but elementary aged innocence, her tone was that of someone much more mature... and borderline seductive.

"No buts, just go." He pointed to the door.

"You said butts! " Abby squealed. Almost as soon as the words left her mouth she recognized just how childish she was behaving. Yet, something about the late hour and personal isolation during the workday convinced her she wasn't completely out of line.