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Chapter 6
“and so she actually says to me ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t date older men, and you’ve gotta be like at least forty.’ As if I look forty! Can you believe that, McGee?” came Tony’s voice as the elevator doors opened, the two men walking out side-by-side.

“But Tony, you are like forty,” came McGee’s even response as he strolled into the squad room towards his workspace.

“Well thanks a lot, McDowner. I really need that coming from someone who would rather sit behind their keyboard geeking out on some World of Warcraft game instead of even trying to go to a bar and pick up a real woman to have real sex with.” He threw his backpack on the floor by his desk in irritation and glared over at Ziva. “What are you grinning at?”

McGee ignored Tony’s teasing about his choice in personal entertainment, as it was a near constant in his life, and he knew better than to encourage negative behaviors in Tony by playing into them. He turned his own attention to his computer and the few things he needed to get to work on for the morning.

“Were you out trying to pick up college girls again, Tony?” she ventured to guess from behind her computer monitor as she sat typing up a report she needed to finish for Gibbs.

Tony strode over to her desk, taking a seat on the edge, invading her personal space as usual. “Why, are you jealous?”

A wild look flashed across her eyes before she answered flatly. “No. I was just curious. That is all.”

He knew better than that and leaned in closer so McGee wouldn’t hear him. “It was just a dare. Some of my buddies from Baltimore came into town for the evening. Nothing happened, Ziva.”

He waited for a smile to creep across her lips before retreating to his own desk so as not to raise any suspicions. Little did Tony realize their seemingly innocent aside conversations had already been noticed by McGee, and once again he was casually watching this latest exchange.

Just as they were all casually relaxed, Gibbs entered the squad room bringing the three agents immediately to his attention. This time it wasn’t that he yelled out “Grab your gear!” or an off-handed comment on their doings prior to him entering that took them all by surprise because he hadn’t spoken a word. He looked like their Gibbs. He was dressed in his typical style; navy blue sport coat, royal blue polo shirt, white undershirt, gray slacks, shiny black boots. He carried his usual cup of coffee in hand like every morning, but he was decidedly ‘un-Gibbsy’ this morning.

Gibbs had entered the squad room whistling a pleasant tune as he made his way to his desk, set his coffee down, smiled and said, “Good morning, team,” then sat down in his chair and began tapping away on his keyboard with a half-grin on his face.

The three NCIS agents had never seen Gibbs whistle musically before. He had occasionally whistled loudly to get someone’s attention, but nothing like this. He also wasn’t one for the pleasantries of bidding the team a good morning either, and given the events over the past few months with the Reynosa cartel, Mike Franks, and everything else he and the rest of the team had endured, it seemed any amount of grinning on his face should be completely unexpected.

Feeling all six eyes on him, Gibbs looked up from his monitor. “What?” he asked his team in a voice that was half-joking, half-warning. It served to avert their attention back to their desks, or at least force them to pretend they weren’t staring at him. He was well aware that his behavior was out of the ordinary and enough to cause confusion in his team, but he just felt too incredibly good after the previous night with Emerald to give a damn this morning.

With the sideways glances, peeking suspiciously around monitors from all three directions, getting a bit old, Gibbs decided perhaps the squad room was not the best place to be for the time being. He stood from his chair, swiped his coffee cup off his desk, and headed toward the back elevator with a sure and steady gait. Duck won’t ask any questions. Well, he might ask, but he’ll butt out when you don’t answer them, Jethro. Or, maybe you can answer just enough to get some advice without giving yourself away. You’re a seasoned agent, Jethro. That shouldn’t be hard. He nodded to himself just as the elevator doors came open at the autopsy floor and he tossed his now empty coffee cup into the trashcan outside the doors.

One would think that an autopsy suite would be a cold, sterile, uninviting place to be, and at NCIS, the room itself was no different; however, with Dr. Donald “Ducky” Mallard’s presence in the room, the room was filled with a sense of the very opposite effect. Ducky was warm, personable, and always full of friendly banter to make you feel welcome into his space.

More than a simple medical examiner and holder of a Master’s degree in forensic psychology, Ducky was a big part of Gibbs’ team, Gibbs’ family of sorts, the uncle to the fatherly role Gibbs played in this family. Most importantly, Ducky was Gibbs’ oldest friend and trusted confidant.

Upon hearing the doors open, Ducky looked up from the reference book he was reading at his desk, seeing Jethro sauntering in towards him. “Jethro, what a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting you. We haven’t any bodies, and I keep trying to explain to you, there is nothing more I can tell you regarding your friend Mr. Franks from that surveillance video. It’s impossible to give a prognosis..”

“I know, Duck. That’s not what I came down here about,” Gibbs assured his friend. “You made it clear you can’t do any more. I’ve dropped it. Enough said.”

Ducky turned in his chair a little more to better face his friend who had perched himself on the corner of the desk. “Then how can I help you, Jethro?” Eyeing the expression on Jethro’s face, calm eyes, relaxed jaw muscles, a slight smile playing across his lips, it was obvious he was in a better mood than Ducky had seen him in, well, Ducky couldn’t remember how long. He was quite sure it was too long though. “You seem to be in a good mood. Could that have anything to do with your unexpected visit?”

In a teasing tone, Gibbs replied. “Boy, Duck, nothing gets past you. The squad room got too awkward when I came in a bit ‘peppier’ than usual so to speak.” He sat on the desk, suddenly feeling awkward himself, unsure what he really meant to tell Ducky. His private life had always been just that, private. It seemed inappropriate to share too much of himself at work seeing how he did not want to become part of the rumor mill that ran constant around the office and possibly ran even more rampant within his own team.

“Was there something in particular you wanted to tell me? Perhaps some news that led to this ‘peppier’ Gibbs your agents are so discombobulated over?” Ducky regarded Jethro’s demeanor, the calming of the recent storm in his eyes, yet a certain tension, ever present at the idea of opening up about himself. As Ducky saw it, one of Jethro’s greatest weaknesses was the inability to communicate with others on a personal level, to let down his guard and let people in.

How do you word what’s happened to you over the past two weeks? Where do you even begin? Is it even possible to describe what Em makes you feel? “I’ve sort of met someone.” Thinking back to that night, he added, “It was kind of under unusual circumstances, not the sort of thing you’d expect of me. Really, it’s gonna cost me a fortune.” That hospital bill is gonna break the bank and there’s no way insurance will cover it.

Ducky mulled that over for a minute trying to decide how to take that. Jethro’s words were vague at best. He chose the most direct question first. “Jethro, you’re not getting married again, are you?” concerned for his friend after losing one wife and further suffering three miserable divorces.

That took Gibbs by such surprise he nearly fell over and off the edge of the desk. “What? No! Why would you think that?” In truth, he and Emerald hadn’t spoken about their future together until last night’s discussion of wanting to work through the difficulty of her hectic schedule now that she returned to regular duty. Marriage certainly hadn’t been brought up by either of them at this point in the relationship. They had each suffered their own pain in that realm and weren’t looking for more. Be honest with yourself, Jethro. The thought’s crossed your mind. You don’t really want to grow old and die all alone, and Em is everything you want. He shook the thought from his head. Don’t be ridiculous. You couldn’t possibly be everything she wants. Not for a lifetime. Not for her lifetime. She deserves more than you can give her.

Still unsure exactly what it was his friend had come to talk about regarding this newfound woman in his life, and feeling a bit confused as to the nature of this relationship, Ducky tried another question. “I’m glad you’ve found someone to make you happy. What is she like, if you don’t mind my asking?”

What was Emerald like? Gibbs smiled at that question. He had answers to that. “Perfect. She’s perfect, Duck. She’s unbelievably beautiful with this long wavy deep red hair and sparkling green eyes like you’ve never seen on a woman before.” Gibbs glanced at Ducky who gave a knowing smile, recalling his own youthful infatuations with beautiful young women. “Intelligent. She’s definitely intelligent. Probably one of the most intelligent women I’ve ever met. And she’s funny too. She knows how to make me laugh, Duck, and I mean really laugh.” His mind replayed the last two weeks, his smile fading to a wistful expression. “She’s tough and independent, but has this certain fragility about her that I can’t explain. She’s gentle and caring and thoughtful too.” The smile returned to his face, and he looked at Ducky again. “Like I said, she’s perfect.”

As great as that all sounded, Ducky was a tad concerned that Jethro was putting this woman up on a pedestal that would eventually put her out of his own reach. Knowing Jethro as he did, he knew his limitations and downfalls, and the ability to see his worthiness to be loved was not one of his dear friend’s strengths.

While Ducky was thinking over the comments Gibbs had just made about Emerald, Gibbs’ own thoughts had taken a turn down another road. If she’s so perfect then why are you doing this to her? She doesn’t deserve to be dragged into this Reynosa mess. If you cared about her half as much as you think you do, you’d stop yourself right now. You would have stopped yourself last night. Was it just about the sex for you? You just couldn’t help yourself. Been too long, just a bit too horny, had to have her when the opportunity presented itself. Did you even care that she’s going to expect more from you now, and that means endangering her life? Does this all come down to risking her life just to get your rocks off? God damn you, you are such a bastard. The smile was gone and so was the calm in his eyes. The all too familiar storm was returning.

“Duck, have you ever done something that seemed right at the time, something you really wanted to do, something that satisfied you at the time, but perhaps was wrong? Others may even look at it as being immoral?” he asked, his tone gruffer than before.

Considering his words carefully, it took Ducky a moment to answer. “Jethro, I suppose we all have times in our lives that we could look back on, assess, and believe those things to be true about. There are many gray areas in life in which the answer to what is right and what is wrong is quite subjective.” After thinking for a second, he added, “It’s up to you to determine whether or not you believe it to be wrong and, if so, to take actions not to follow that road any longer and find a way to forgive yourself for the mistake you made.”

You can’t very well leave her now. She could be in danger because of you. If you care about her at all, now is not the time to run away from her. Gibbs knew deep down a herd of wild horses couldn’t drag him away from Emerald. Frustrated, he rose from the desk. “What do you do when you choose to keep doing it and know damn well you’ll never forgive yourself?” and with that he stalked out the doors leaving Ducky utterly perplexed.
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