a/n: Not gonna lie, had a lot of fun writing this. set in the 1999 days.
"Just go get him."
"Jen."
"Go. Get. Him."
A short, whispered argument was how Leroy Jethro Gibbs ended up knocking sullenly on Doctor Mallard's door at two in the morning. He purposely knocked softly, hoping his knuckles would be drained out by the sound of rain pounding the roof of the safe house, because he really didn't want to succeed in waking the doctor, because that would mean –
"What the devil is it, Jethro?"
–a lot of questions.
Gibbs grit his teeth as the door swung open and Ducky stood there in pinstriped pajamas and even a comical little pinstriped cap, yawning tiredly and reaching up to button the shirt at the collar. The doctor stared at him expectantly, and Gibbs cleared his throat, his face unreadable – at least he hoped it was.
"Jen's stitches pulled out," he said coolly.
Ducky blinked, and tilted is head.
"I stitched her this morning," he scoffed. "Those sutures were brand new."
Gibbs shrugged heavily.
"They pulled," he repeated. He paused. "She's bleeding like a stuck pig."
Ducky pushed Gibbs aside with a grim look, shaking his head as he went up the stairs.
"For heaven's sake, Gibbs, you think you'd sound a bit more urgent," he chastised, scowling.
Gibbs took the stairs behind him, rubbing the back of his head warily.
"Why didn't she come get me?" Ducky asked abruptly, turning down the hall.
Gibbs grunted vaguely.
"She pulled her stitches, and sought out you?" Ducky snorted. "I hardly think you're capable of fixing such a stitch – pun intended."
"Don't ask me to explain Jen, Ducky," Gibbs said pointedly.
He didn't mention that he'd already been with Jen when the incident had occurred. He stopped behind Ducky at Jenny's door, and watched the doctor knock firmly.
"Jennifer, are you decent?"
"Yes," she answered.
Ducky entered the room, and Gibbs followed sheepishly, his hands behind his back. Jenny was sitting up, her legs dangling off the bed, her hands pressed to her side. She kept lifting them, checking periodically. Ducky approached her, and then shot Gibbs an annoyed look.
"I'd hardly describe her as a stuck pig," he groused.
Jenny's head snapped up.
"You called me a pig?" she hissed.
She moved aside the flannel shirt she was wrapped in and showed Ducky the damage.
"I was going to ignore it," she started reluctantly, "but it is bleeding, and it got on the sheets," she trailed off, and glanced past Ducky's shoulder, her eyes on Gibbs' chest. There were smears of blood on his abdomen, too, but she didn't think Ducky had noticed.
Ducky gingerly pressed his fingers around the wound – a wound she'd sustained in an unexpected knife fight they'd gotten into with a lesser gang of arms dealers today – and frowned.
"I can't imagine – how did you manage this?" he asked, more to himself than her. He clicked his tongue and shook his head.
Jenny mumbled something faint and incoherent. Ducky frowned, his brow creasing more heavily.
"I'm going to have to re-stitch this, Jennifer," Ducky sighed, rubbing at his eyes to wake himself up. "The more I have to do this, the more risk of infection," he muttered.
Jenny winced, and shot Gibbs a glare. He gave her an annoyed look – what, like it was his fault entirely?
"What?" Jenny asked.
"I asked if you'd had a nightmare," Ducky repeated. He touched her wound again. "It doesn't seem you scratched these loose."
Gibbs prowled closer, eyeing the wound. The skin looked raw and angry, but Jenny had managed to contain the bleeding to a folded up piece of clothing, which he thought was clever, until Ducky took it from her and he realized –
"Are these yours?" Ducky asked, holding the makeshift tourniquet up to Gibbs.
Gibbs stared at the boxers, narrowing his eyes. He glanced at Jenny; she glared back at him pointedly.
"Uh," Gibbs said. "Yeah," he confessed, clearing his throat. "I gave 'em to her."
Ducky stared at him, and he folded his arms and thrust one hand out.
"She, uh, woke me up, and I gave her that. Before I got you," he said quickly.
"How…gentlemanly," Ducky said dryly, arching a brow at the underwear. "I hope they were out of a drawer and not off your back?" he snorted. He turned back to Jenny. "Why did you get Gibbs, my dear?"
"I – didn't want to, ah, wake you unless it was necessary," Jenny mumbled tightly.
"But Jethro isn't a doctor," pressed Ducky.
Jenny smiled sweetly, and shrugged a little. Ducky sighed, and put aside the boxer shorts. He stood up, rubbing his forehead, his brow creased.
"Jennifer, I do not mean to praise my own skills, but those stitches were very neatly and tightly done," Ducky said, a little sternly.
She blinked at him.
"I didn't tear them on purpose, Ducky," she said, laughing a little. "I'm not a sadist."
"Were you doing yoga or something?" he pressed. "I told you to take it easy for a few days."
"Yoga can't tear stitches," snorted Gibbs loudly.
Ducky turned and looked at him sharply.
"It can if she was arching her back or stretching her abdomen unnecessarily," he said curtly.
Gibbs quickly set his jaw and looked serious.
"Don't like being compared to Yoga, Jethro?" Jenny laughed.
He gave her a warning look, and she winced, immediately aware she shouldn't have made the joke. Ducky looked between them, and then did a double take; he'd caught sight of the drying blood on Gibbs' chest. He gave the man a sharp look, narrowing his eyes.
"I've never known you to waltz around half naked around female agents, Gibbs," he said crisply.
"I don't waltz," Gibbs growled.
"Oh, Ducky," Jenny said lightly. "You know I'm just – one of the guys."
"You aren't wearing anything," Ducky pointed out, suddenly seeing as a man, rather than as a doctor; Jennifer was in a flannel button-down and a pair of panties, that was it – and now that he looked closer, he realized the shirt definitely belonged to Gibbs.
Ducky pointed stiffly to Gibb's abdomen.
"Am I to assume you attempted to stich her yourself before you came and got me?" he demanded.
"No," Gibbs scoffed.
Ducky bent closer to look at the gash near Jenny's ribs, and then he sucked in his breath through his teeth, shooting her a very serious, pointed look.
"How did you tear these?" he asked shortly.
"I – scratched myself, or, got my nails caught – "
"Your nails, or his?"
"Ducky!" she snapped, trying to look scandalized.
"How did you tear these stitches, Agent Shepard?"
"Agent Shepard?" quoted Gibbs, arching his eyebrow.
Unfortunately, Ducky's burst of authority seemed to work on Jen, and she shrunk back a little, looking have amused, half chastised. Gibbs saw her flick her eyes apologetically at him before she lowered her head and mumbled something.
"Speak up," Ducky ordered.
"We were having sex."
Ducky immediately whirled around and slapped Gibbs n the back of the head – hard. Gibbs swore and took two steps back, glaring at the doctor. He rubbed the sore spot, annoyed to have his signature move turned against him.
Ducky raised his finger.
"I explicitly told her no physical exertions," he barked.
Gibbs lifted his shoulders, and thrust out his palm at her.
"She wanted it," he accused. "She seduced me."
"For heaven's sake, Jethro – "
"I'm serious, she dragged me in here – "
"And you dragged her stitches out!"
"Jen, want to put a word in here?" Gibbs growled, glaring at her.
"No," she snorted. "You're doing fine," she snickered, amused.
Gibbs glared at her, and she laughed, then sucked in her breath and made a squeaky noise – which caught Ducky's attention.
"Let me see that," he ordered, bending over her again. He grumbled to himself, and then shot a nasty look at Gibbs.
Gibbs glared at him, too.
"Why're you lookin' at me?" he griped. "It takes two."
"You should know better."
"It's her – " Gibbs gestured madly, "—body, she can do what she wants with it."
"Yes, and I'm sure you were so vocal in your encouragement for her to - "
"I let her be on top, isn't that better?"
Ducky whirled around and slapped him again.
"Jen, come on!" Gibbs yelped, begging for help.
Jenny laughed – which did nothing for her ruptured stitches.
"Ducky, Ducky," she placated. "It – I'm sorry, it wasn't his fault, I did – I forced him – "
"Yes, dear," Ducky said sarcastically. "I'm sure you overpowered him and raped him."
Jenny laughed, louder this time.
"No, I just – I couldn't sleep, I swore he wouldn't hurt me, he didn't mean – "
"He ripped your stitches out?!"
"No, it was the back arching."
Ducky put his hands over his face.
"I am going to murder the both of you," he growled, exasperated.
He turned towards Gibbs a little, and Gibbs shied back warily, holding up his hands.
"Don't hit me again, Dr. Mallard," he warned petulantly.
"I ought to," snapped Ducky. "I gave her painkillers to sleep, she was high, Jethro," he told him, annoyed. "You think a clear-headed woman would have tried to seduce you with her side in sutures?"
Gibbs pointed defiantly at Jenny.
"That one? Yeah," he snorted stubbornly. Then he tilted is head, and gave Jenny a look of annoyed disbelief. "You didn't tell me you were on painkillers," he hissed.
She laughed.
"Of course I was on painkillers," she retorted. "That's why I didn't notice they ripped until," she gestured at the blood on his chest, "it was all over you."
Gibbs rubbed subconsciously at the spot, and tried to avoid Ducky's eyes. The Doctor rounded on him until he backed up, and then stood, brushing his hands off.
"I am going to get my medical bag," he said icily. He gave Gibbs a look. "Do you think you can manage not to touch her while I'm gone."
Gibbs shrugged.
"Maybe," he deadpanned.
Jenny giggled, then hastily tried to make it a cough. Ducky stalked out of the room, and when the stairs began to creak, Gibbs stormed over and sat down, pushing her hands aside and looking at the wound. He glared at her.
"Could've waited until morning," he hissed.
"No, I'd have slowly bled out overnight," she retorted, pressing the boxers to her side again. She sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. "You could have been a little more careful," she chastised.
"Me?" he snapped, giving her an outraged look. "You were doin' all the moving!"
"You didn't have to do that thing with your thumb."
"If I didn't, you weren't gonna – "
Ducky cleared his throat, and both shamed agents snapped their mouths shut. Ducky shooed Gibbs away, and he stood and moved around the bed, crawling over it on his knees and sitting behind Jenny. Ducky gave him a scathing look.
"I am going to re-stitch this – tightly," Ducky said sternly. He looked between both of them as he got his supplies ready – needle, suture, antiseptic, shot of whiskey for Jen – et cetera. "Jennifer, do you think you can manage to take care of the stitches for at least twenty-four hours this time?"
She gave him a solemn look, and nodded. Gibbs pulled her hair back from her shoulders and twisted it in his grasp gently, making it all fall down her back.
"You may go back to your own room now, Jethro," Ducky said narrowly.
"Ah, actually," Jenny piped up, giving Ducky an apologetic look. "Ducky the – cat's out of the bag, can he – I really don't like stitches," she stammered, flushing.
Ducky stared at her.
"And he's your security blanket?" he asked sarcastically.
Gibbs rubbed her shoulder and then dangled his hand over it, so she could take his fingers. She just gave Ducky a resigned look, and shrugged a little sheepishly herself. Gibbs, meanwhile, gave the good doctor a smug little smirk over her shoulder.
Ducky mumbled grumpily under his breath, shooting the occasional annoyed look at Gibbs – and Jenny, too, just to be fair. He pierced her skin gently with a sterilized needle, trying to be gently as he re-sewed up the gash, and still, he couldn't resist a final word –
"The next time the two of you decide to be a painfully unoriginal undercover love story cliché, could you possibly do it at a reasonable hour? Doctor's orders."
Ducky, the sasscat.
-alexandra
story #263