Donald 'Ducky' Mallard careful dabbed his mouth and sighed with happiness. "That, my dear, was superb."

Breena Palmer blushed just a little. "You are being really kind, Dr. Mallard. I know what sort of cook you are. Jimmy says you are a chef in your own right."

That tickled Ducky's ego and he sat up just a bit straighter. "I can reassure you, he is merely being kind. And this is such a treat these days. It's very hard to cook for one. Perhaps the two of you would be good enough to join me soon?"

"I'd…" Jimmy stopped and smiled chagrined at his wife. "Sorry, Bree, we'd love to, Doctor."

"Excellent. I have one particular dish that I have been eager to attempt."

Jimmy sapped his hands together and stood. "I think we might be more comfortable hearing that in the living room. Why don't we go head there with our coffee?" Jimmy caught him before he could drift down that path and Ducky was slightly startled by his young friend's intuitive catch. He was more and more impressed with the man as he watched Jimmy grow from an awkward student to a capable colleague.

"Let me help clear." The words were out of his mouth before he even knew it.

Breena shook her blonde hair and laughed. "Not for an instant. You and Jimmy go. I'll put the food away and join you."

After the necessary and expected protests, he allowed himself to be led to a cozy living room. It was cool this evening and a gas fire burned in the fireplace. He settled into a lovely overstuffed chair, smiling as it came up to greet his weary body. Spending the evening with young people, while enjoyable, reinforced just how old he felt tonight.

"It doesn't put out a lot of heat, but I love watching it," Jimmy explained as they sat. "There's something primeval about it."

"It was one of the first things that separated us from other mammals. Not only could we create it, but we harnessed it." The flames reminded Ducky of an outing with some of his childhood friends. They had pitched tents, swam in the chilly Scottish water, and cooked fish over an open flame. So much of life ahead of them, they never once considered their mortality. So many of you are gone now, he wondered. When will it be my time?

"You look a hundred miles away, Doctor." Jimmy poured coffee, his hands almost steady. Ducky pretended not to notice. His co-worker was still a bit nervous about him. Ducky make a pledge that he would answer Mr. Palmer's next question truthfully. "I've always meant to ask, what made you decide to become a medical examiner? You trained for at least twelve years to be a surgeon. After all that work, what made you switch from saving lives to forensics? "

Ducky looked skyward. What about a mulligan? "Well, that's rather a long story."

"We've plenty of time and an extra bedroom, just in case it gets too late." Breena set a platter with dishes, forks and a cake down and winked at him. "It's something I've always wondered as well, Dr. Mallard." She settled beside her husband, her hand even now protectively curled over her slightly protruding tummy.

"How is your pregnancy progressing, if that is not too personal a question?" He was careful to not be too pushy.

"I'm feeling okay, if a bit more tired and to be honest, I think it's all the extra trips to the bathroom that are doing it and you are avoiding the question." She sipped her decaf and studied him. "Unless it's too personal a question."

Ducky laughed. "No, not at all and I can never refuse an audience." He set down his coffee and cleared his throat. "It was a long time ago, but that's how all good stories start…"

"Hey, hey, doc, you got a minute?" The captain ran up to him. Ducky didn't care for the man. He seemed rather heavy-handed with his men, but it wasn't his place to say anything. He was merely a passenger this time.

"What do you need, Captain Stegman?"

"There was a death on board last night and we need someone to sign off on the death certificate."

"Don't you have an attending physician?"

"Yes, but he just left on furlough and there's no way to contact him for another four hours. His replacement isn't due for another three and I'd like to get this done before then. That way I can notify the parents. "

"That was rather inappropriate to leave when someone was in serious condition." The man's casual treatment of a sailor's death irked him for no reason other than he let it.

"She wasn't when he left." The captain draped an arm around Ducky's shoulders in an all-too familiar manner. "She just up and died, leaving me with the mess. You'd really help me out of a bind here."

He shrugged off the arm. "Of course." I will be happy to, but not as a favor to you, Captain.

"I know you don't like me, but I appreciate it, Doc."

The Captain's response surprised him. Ducky used to be better at hiding his feeling, but his time in Afghanistan had taken a toll on him. He'd violated a sacred oath to help and heal. Perhaps it was time to consider a change of pace. Ducky had decided to take passage on a military ship that was bound for the Navy Yard in DC. His time in Afghanistan had put him in good stead with the military and he was permitted passage.

Ducky found his way to sick bay and walked in. There was no morgue on the ship. Instead the body had been wrapped in a sheet and covered with ice.

He enlisted the help of two orderlies, who unburied her from her chilly tomb and laid her out on an examination table.

"Need anything else, Dr. Mallard?" The younger of the two orderlies looked a bit green around the gills. With the way the ship was rolling, Dr. Mallard wasn't surprised. He enjoyed the sensation beneath his feet, but it was hardly a surprise. His mother told him he'd been conceived on the water and that it was in his blood. However, that wasn't the case for everyone.

He walked over a rack of medicine and found what he was looking for. He gave the young man some Dramamine and watched him staggering him away. "You wouldn't expect sailors to get seasick."

"It happens more than you know."

"As I can tell from the quantity of anti-emetics in stock. What is your name, young man?" The orderly still looked a bit nervous and kept glancing sideways at the body, as if he expected it to attack him.

"Dougal McCoy, sir."

"No, I'm not a sir, just call me Ducky. Irish?"

"My mum and dad are, but I was born in Cleveland."

Ducky handed the man a clipboard. "Would you be so good as to take notes for me? And don't worry. She's merely dead and the dead can't hurt you."

"Yes, sir, Ducky, sir."

Sighing and smiling with good humor at the man, Ducky uncovered the face of the young woman and a wave of profound sadness washed over him. She couldn't have been much older than her mid-twenties. He verified that with a check to her chart. Her name was Lynn Coates and she was twenty six. Cause of death was a burst appendix.

"A burst appendix? Why didn't they operate?" He quickly scanned the notes. "This doesn't make sense."

"Sir?"

"Never mind, young Dougal. You will discover I tend to talk to myself."

"Yes, sir."

Ducky turned back to the table and his eyes widened. The young girl was studying him with sad eyes.

"What on earth?" he whispered.

"It's not, you know."

"It's not what?"

"Why I died. They wouldn't listen to me. I told them something was wrong, but they wouldn't listen and now they lie. Help me, Doctor. Be my voice."

"How?"

"Look. Don't be afraid to look. My parents need to know the truth."

Ducky gasped and blinked. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. When he looked back, the girl's eyes were closed and judging from her pallor, she was very deceased.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what, sir?" Dougal looked up from the clipboard where he'd been filling in the incidentals.

Ducky turned back to the table. "A plea for help. A scalpel, please."

"What are you going to do, Doctor?"

"I do not believe that this young woman died from a ruptured appendix and I intend to prove it."

"What happened?" Breena's voice swept him from the past back to the present. "Was it her appendix?" She offered him a slice of cake, white with whipped cream and a filling of different sliced fruits.

"It was pink and healthy at her time of death." Ducky set his cup down onto the saucer and accepted the plate. "A bit more of an exam proved her death to be caused by an ectopic pregnancy in her fallopian tube. It burst and ruptured the walls of her right fallopian tube. She had been complaining about pain all day, but I thought the doctor had been such a hurry to leave that he neglected to do a thorough exam, A proper abdominal examination would have noted hemorrhaging from the ruptured fallopian, which would, of course, not cause a positive McBurney's sign, thereby completely eliminating a ruptured appendix as the cause. It was sloppy and careless work on the doctor's part. Apparently he was too busy with his own arrangements to do his job."

"And the truth?" Jimmy was on the edge of his seat, his coffee forgotten.

"Far more unsettling. It turned out that she had been raped and when she reported it, she was ignored. She became pregnant and was terrified to say anything, knowing it would be an immediate discharge." His smile was tinged with sadness. "It is a terrible tragedy that this sort of deplorable practice continues to this day. It took some digging, but the guilty parties were brought to justice. I couldn't save her, but I was instrumental in bringing the guilty parties to justice."

"Guilty parties?"

"The seaman who assaulted her, the captain for not reporting the assault and the ship's physician for utter incompetence. Had the incident been reported properly, the captain listened, and the doctor fulfilled his Hippocratic oath correctly, she would have been alive. It was also my first exposure to NCIS. I liked very much what I saw in a young man named Jethro Gibbs. He had the same sort of passion for avenging the wrong. It would be many years before our paths would cross again."

Jimmy snapped his fingers. "And that's why you decided to become a medical examiner!"

"To give the silenced a voice, yes." Ducky remembered his mother's face when he told her. Her anger and disgust that he turned his back on what could have been a thriving and lucrative practice to dedicate his energies on forensic science. He took his intelligence, his drive, and commitment and applied it to becoming a medical examiner. It had taken time, but he'd never regretted a moment.

"Well, I, for one, am glad you did. Otherwise Jimmy and I might have never met."

"Don't you believe it, my dear. Destiny is a funny thing. We can try to prepare for it, but in the end, it will be as it must be." Ducky sighed happily at his young friends. "And you two were meant to be together."

"That sort of brings us to why we are here, Dr. Mallard." Jimmy suddenly became anxious again and Breena took his hand. "We have something to ask of you, Doctor… Ducky."

At the rare use of his nickname by Jimmy, he was all attention. "What is it, Jimmy?"

"We were wondering if you would consent to be our baby's godfather."

"Your… your what? But I'm an old man. You should pick a nice married couple."

Breena smiled and scooted forward awkwardly. "We talked a lot about this, Doctor. And there is no one I would trust more to raise our child. You are good and kind. She will learn dedication, loyalty and respect from you. I've seen you with children and you are perfect." She kissed his cheek. Please?"

"Besides, who better to entrust a life than someone who cares so much for the dead?" Jimmy moved a bit closer, his face a study of worry.

"I don't know.., well, yes, of course, if that is your wish." Ducky laughed. "I would be honored."

Breena jumped up and hugged him. At that very instant, the baby kicked and Ducky drew back, a look of sheer wonder on his face. "She likes the idea!"

"He likes it, you mean," Jimmy interrupted and then laughed. "Now, Doctor, how are you on assembling a crib?"