Abby: Technically, it was a squatting hug, or squg.

Abby: That's what I love about you, Gibbs, always one finger ahead.

Abby: The car that hit Gordon was definitely a Taurus.
Gibbs: You're positive?
Abby: Absolutely... unless it was a Mercury Sable.

Abby: The prints were made by a residue of polysaccharide dust derived from belta-glucose. What makes it interesting, is the backbone of D-xylopyranose, linked with eight xylose units... Panda poop.
Gibbs: Panda?
Abby: Poop. Which is why it fluoresces, like all other poop does. What makes it really, really interesting... is the sodium hydrochloride: a.k.a Chlorine bleach.
Abby: [pause] I, lost you at "poop", huh.
Gibbs: Uh-huh.

Abby: There were traces of cocaine in the box.
McGee: So Tony was right, he was dealing drugs.
Abby: Maybe not, the traces were microscopic so it could just be from hiding money.
[McGee looks confused.]
Abby: He calls himself a federal agent.
Gibbs: U.S. money supply is contaminated with traces of cocaine.
McGee: I thought that was an urban myth.
Abby: Give me a bill.
McGee: Huh?
Abby: Give me a bill!
[McGee hands her a bill.]
Gibbs: A hundred?
McGee: Yeah, I like to be prepared for any emergency.
Abby: You are such a boy scout.
[Abby rubs bill on paper.]
Abby: Money is a great receptor because the ink never really dries. One bill used to snort cocaine then going through an ATM leaves minute traces of the drugs on thousands of others. Four out of five bills in circulation are contaminated to a level that can be detected by drug dogs.
[Abby goes back to work, without giving back the bill.]
McGee: Um, Abs?
Abby: Yeah?
McGee: Forgetting something?
Abby: No.

Abby: They haven't hurt McGee, have they?
Ziva: We have not heard anything.
Tony: [holds evidence box] Got something for ya from Trimble's apartment, Abby. We need to figure all this stuff out before sunset.
Abby: Define 'before sunset'!
Tony: Before the sun goes down.
Abby: [looks frustrated and sighs, grabbing the box and heads to table]
Abby: The sun sets at around 5:02. So, does that mean we have until five oh one?
Ziva: Before sunset.
Abby: That could be now. Not good enough! I can't take this. Every time you guys go out, and I never know if you're gonna make it back, [Tony and Ziva exchange a look as she mutters] and it's killing me. I can't sleep at night and I'm developing this sort of weird twitch.
Ziva: Our work is sometimes dangerous, Abby.
Abby: Then get a safer job.
Tony: Then you wouldn't see us at all.
Abby: [frowns] True. Still...sucks!

Abby: This is so embarrassing. Okay, in my defense what self-respecting drug dealer cuts his cocaine with potassium cyanide?
McGee: Obviously one that doesn't care about repeat business.

Abby: Tony! I knew you'd be alright, I knew it! Everybody else gave you up for dead, even Ziva!
Ziva: OK, so I may have acted a little... hastily.
Tony: That's my letter opener!
Ziva: Excellent balance and weight. The edge is a little dull, but I have always admired it.
Tony: (checks his desk) Where's my American Pie coffee mug?
Abby: Palmer.
Tony: Mighty Mouse stapler?
Abby: Ducky. (looks over his shoulder) Hey, Ducky!
[Tony turns and sees Ducky, caught in the act of trying to replace Tony's Mighty Mouse stapler.]
Ducky: My dear fellow... I never believed it for a moment!

Abby: Well, Ducky was right. It's snot.
McGee: It's not what?
Abby: It's snot.
McGee: It's not?
Abby: Yeah, it is.
McGee: It's what?
Abby: Snot. The substance found in Lindsey Evans hair. It's snot.
McGee: Well, why didn't you just say that?

Abby: What are you going to do while I test for poison in a health snack?
Tony: I'll wait.
Abby: There's a futon under the desk.
Tony: Bless you.
Abby: What are you, my priest?
Tony: Curse you?

Abby: What are you not telling me?
McGee: What do you mean?
Abby: You have that three-little-pigs-look.
McGee: What?
Abby: The three little pigs. They were afraid to open the door because the big bad wolf was outside.
McGee: I don't know what are you talking about. (Something rings...)
Abby: Wow... this is definitely going on my wall. (Ziva walks in)
Ziva: I should be a professional photographer!
Abby: The Director hasn't called.
Ziva: About?
Abby: About?! Gibbs!
Ziva: Oh...
Abby: She didn't call you, did she?
Ziva: No.
Abby: Because, you know, the way you're acting, you might have just, I don't know, forgotten to tell.
McGee: Ziva, do you notice anything different in here?
Ziva: No music.
McGee: That's it! No music. (He looks at Abby) You know, you usually play music in here...
Abby: What if those were Gibbs' guts smooshed all over that room?
Ziva: Oh, for God's sake, Abby, they're not.
Abby: What if they were?!
Ziva: The color would be more coffee-brown than red.
(Abby slaps her on the face, Ziva slaps her back, Abby slaps her again and so does Ziva. McGee looks shocked).

Abby: What can I do for you?... What?
Tony: You're weirder than Gibbs.
Abby: How so?
Tony: He's being nice.
Abby: Gibbs is always nice.
Tony: To you and Ducky, maybe; me, he growls at and smacks on the head.
Abby: Which makes you feel wanted.
Tony: Yeah!

Abby: What do you see?
McGee: Um, french vanilla ice cream with chocolate sprinkles.
Abby: Interesting. [flipping to another picture] What now?
McGee: Um.
Abby: You can say it. We're grown-ups, McGee. Say it.
McGee: Sex.
Abby: Mold sex, actually. Practically mold porn.
McGee: Why are you showing me mold porn?

Abby: What do you think Kate?
Kate: I think that you're still suffering the effects of your party last night.
Abby: All I drank was Redbull!
Kate: How many?
Abby: (slight pause) Eighteen.

Abby: Who would shoot this cute little dog? Look at you... [realizing, she turns around and glares at McGee]
McGee: It was self-defense. It-it was self-defense!
Abby: You shot that cute little dog?!
McGee: He's not cute and little! He's, he's vicious and large!
[The dog whines piteously.]
Abby: How could you shoot an innocent animal, McGee?!
McGee: Abby, that dog is not innocent, he killed someone!
Abby: Dogs don't kill people! People kill people!
McGee: People with dogs that kill people kill people!
[Abby grabs McGee's jacket and cuddles the dog.]
McGee: You're wrapping the dog in my jacket?! My Hugo Boss jacket?! Abby, there's evidence on there...!
Abby: If you think that I can't distinguish the fibers on your stupid jacket from the evidence on the dog, you don't know me, McGee! And right now, I don't want to know you! [to the dog, kindly] Good dog. [to McGee, angrily] Bad McGee!