Eulogy for Clara or What Keeps Me Up at Night
"Everyone, this is my beautiful niece, Clara," Doctor Mallard announced to the bullpen.
"Why is she stuck in the nineties?" Tony DiNozzo asked a little rudely.
Ducky stood with his arms around Clara as only a proud father –or uncle – could. The nineties could only be a reference to Clara's clothes. A midriff top, tight jeans, and a loose jacket. The girl herself couldn't have been more than her middle twenties and until DiNozzo had spoken she was beaming with admiration for her uncle.
"Hey! I made this myself," Clara says shifting her posture defensively. Standing a good foot and a half taller than Ducky, Clara had to bend slightly to whisper, "Perhaps I should wait in autopsy. I never liked any of these people except Gibbs anyways…"
"Yes, I remember," Ducky said with the memory fresh in his mind about how she had hit on Gibbs the last time she saw him.
"Clara, are you Scottish?" Ziva asked.
"Yes," Clara said, her voice suddenly Scottish were previously it had been American, "I am a Scottish chile."
"Clara!" Ducky admonished, "I'm terribly sorry but she does enjoy a good joke at times."
"American," Clara said and extended her hand to Ziva, "but I do have a lot of practice at being Scottish what with Ducky and my parents."
Her voice was a perfect mimic of Ducky's accent and candor on the last phrase.
Gibbs walked into the bullpen.
"Grab your gear, we got a body," he said dropping a jacket onto his desk and picking up a cup of coffee.
"Ducky?" A 6-year-old version Clara asked him standing in a floor length pink night gown.
"Hey," Ducky said softly. Clara was supposed to be in bed ages ago. "What are you still doing up?"
"I couldn't sleep," she said rubbing her left eye sleepily.
"Alright," Ducky said and lifted her, "Let's get you to bed."
"Will you tell me a story?" Clara asked her tiny arms around his neck.
"Which story tonight?" Ducky asked laying Clara onto the bed and pulling the covers up around her chin, "Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Princess and the Pea?"
"One of your autopsy stories!"
"Your mother says I can't tell you any more autopsy stories," Ducky said opening a well worn book beside her night stand to the start of a new story.
He sits in a chair by her bed and Clara's full attention is on him.
"Why not?"
"They give you nightmares."
"No, they don't," Clara insisted.
"Alright," Ducky said moving closer to her and dropping his voice to a low whisper, "I'll tell you. But only if you promise not to tell your mother."
Clara nodded adamantly.
"I remember working a case a couple of years ago. A naval officer was found locked in his room. The door was locked from the inside. There were no other doors or windows…."
"Uncle Ducky!" A teenaged Clara yelled rushing into autopsy and dropping her beige messenger bag on the desk on her way in.
"Clara!" Ducky said handing a dead man's heart to his assistant.
They hadn't seen each other in three years. Not because of a falling out but more due to unfortunate timing. The Medical Examiner held his niece in a tight embrace almost staining the back of her shirt with the man's blood. She held him just the same; caring more about him than any fashion she may have been wearing.
"What are you doing here?"
"Can't I come see my favourite uncle?"
"I'm your only uncle."
"None the less my favourite."
Ducky smiled at this.
"I've picked a career!" Clara said ecstatically.
"Great! What is it?"
"I'm going to be a cosmetologist."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," she said sitting on a high stool to look at the autopsy.
"Why it seems only yesterday, your parents sent you to me because you were shoplifting and they thought that a change of climate may do you some good."
"That's behind me now," She says a little sadly before adding in a much more enthusiastic tone, "Oooh, I've even invented my own treatments!"
"I'm so happy for you."
Clara beamed and slid off the stool. If Ducky approved, nothing else mattered.
"Who have we got here?" She asked looking at the body.
"Ducky!" Clara yelled walking into his house, "I was kicked out of college! Again!"
She took off her shoes in the entryway and then Clara walked through the big house to the kitchen. Ducky walked down the stairs to see her standing there. He hadn't heard her come in but based on the look on her face he was concerned none the less.
"Clara, what happened?" He asked.
"I think I'm in trouble," she admitted.
Doctor Mallard look at the body on the slab. He's here as a favor to her parents. The sheet pulled up over her chest and her makeup done that way she almost looks to be sleeping. Except she's not breathing. He looks at her and remembers these memories. Clara had died but her memory lives on.
"Yes, it's her," Ducky says to the coroner and walks out the door.
A/N: The full title of this story is Eulogy for Clara or What Keeps Me Up at Night.