Shennachie

WEE (White Elephant Exchange) fic for Leona Esperenza.

Prompt #1 - "Only Survivors" – Inspired by the NFA Random Pairing Generator. Jimmy and one other main NCIS character are the only survivors of an incident that took the lives of everyone else they were with. How will they handle it? Are they still in danger?

Rating: FR-15

Characters – Ducky and Jimmy (mostly)

Summary – When Ducky and Jimmy are caught in the middle of a robbery gone wrong, the M.E. learns something surprising about his assistant. Crossover.

Warnings: Not a death fic, despite first appearances ;)

"And that, Mr. Palmer, is why I believe the dead always have one more tale to tell. Which reminds me: do you know the origin of the phrase 'dead men tell no tales'?"

"When people wanted to hold a secret meeting they held it in the cemetery because the dead would not repeat what was said," Jimmy replied as he slid the drawer containing their latest occupant into the wall and shut the door.

"Ah yes, I see I have told you that story before…forgive me for repeating myself."

"Not a problem, Dr. Mallard. You know what they say: 'A good tale never tires in the telling.'"

Ducky chuckled and shook his head. "I'm afraid there are some who would disagree with you, Mr. Palmer."

"Their loss," said Jimmy with a grin. "For me, some stories never get old, no matter how many times…not to say that you repeat stories a lot, Doctor. Sorry."

"It's alright, lad. I'm well aware of my propensities. Some of my past assistants have been unable to appreciate my quirks. You, on the other hand, seem to be picking up some of my habits."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing, Dr. Mallard?"

"Well I suppose it depends on who you ask. Personally I find it rather flattering."

Jimmy blushed slightly. "Thank you, Doctor."

"You're quite welcome. Now, I believe we have done all we can for today. Once we have everything in order, I suppose we can call it a night. I'm sure you'll be happy to have the extra time to spend in the company of your young lady this evening."

"Actually, Breena is out of town this weekend. She's doing wedding stuff with her bridesmaids."

"I see. Well, perhaps you would care to join me for a cup of tea. There is quite a lovely little tea shop only a few miles from home, and it is open fairly late. We should have time for a drink or two. Unless, of course, you have other plans."

"No, no other plans. Thank you for the invitation, Dr. Mallard. Just…can we please not talk about the wedding? It seems like that's all I hear outside of work, and…"

"Perfectly understandable. I believe I can find some other suitable topic of conversation."

"I look forward to it," said Jimmy. The tone of his voice and the happy grin on his face left no doubt as to his sincerity. Ducky had often wondered why the younger man always seemed to enjoy his ramblings when many others did not, but he supposed he had just been lucky in that regard, and in others as well. Despite a bit of a rough beginning, and some minor stumbles along the way, his assistant had become quite a competent medical investigator in his own right, and Ducky felt a swell of pride in his own role in guiding this young man towards what promised to be a well suited and successful career. He fully expected Jimmy to take his place as M.E. for NCIS someday, although in the meantime there was still plenty to teach his assistant, and many of his stories left to pass on.

After they had finished their clean-up from the latest autopsy and changed into their street clothes, the two men headed towards the parking lot. Ducky gave Jimmy detailed directions to the tea shop, but knowing the younger man's poor navigational skills, he instructed Jimmy to follow him, just to be on the safe side.

When they finally arrived, Jimmy followed Ducky into the shop and listened intently as the older man described the basic attributes of the different teas available, finally choosing to try what his mentor most strongly recommended. Ducky chuckled to himself as he observed Jimmy watching the preparation of the drink, done the proper British way, of course. The lad showed the same intensity of concentration as he did while following Ducky's instructions at work, and the older man wondered if perhaps he had had a bit too much of an influence on his assistant.

Once their order was ready, the two men moved to one of the tables in the corner of the shop, settled into the sinfully comfortable chairs, and began their conversation. Ducky had just started to elaborate on an amusing event from his childhood when he saw Jimmy look past his mentor's shoulder and stiffen, a look of surprise crossing his face. Ducky immediately turned to see what had caused such a reaction and froze as he realized a situation he had hoped to never experience was starting to unfold. A man was standing in front of the register, pointing a gun at the cashier, and a second armed man was covering the rest of the room.

"Give me the money in the register, now!" yelled the first gunman, and the terrified cashier began to cry as she struggled to open the register to retrieve the money. The other girl who had prepared their order had started to tremble in fear as she slowly backed away from the gunman. The gunman noticed her, turned and quickly fired his weapon and she fell behind the counter, out of sight. One of the other customers screamed and the second gunman immediately turned in her direction.

"Quiet! No more noise, or I'll give you something to scream about, understood?"

The woman quickly nodded as tears fell down her cheeks, while the remaining customers huddled in their seats as they tried to make themselves as small as possible. Ducky glanced at Jimmy and was startled to see not fear, but anger in the younger man's eyes. He looked as if he was ready to try to inflict bodily harm on the gunmen, an act that would surely end badly, so Ducky caught his attention and briefly shook his head. Their safest course of action was to avoid calling attention to themselves. Jimmy nodded his understanding, a movement which was unfortunately noticed by the second gunman.

"You two, what are you doing?" Before either could reply, the man pointed his gun at them. "Move over there with the others. Slowly now. Don't try to be a hero," he said, looking directly at Jimmy. Jimmy just shook his head slightly and moved to join the rest of the customers, keeping himself between the men and his mentor. "Stand over there, against the counter." Both men complied, and Ducky wondered briefly if they would actually make it out of this alive, and result which seemed less likely with each passing moment.

Finally the cashier managed to get the drawer opened and emptied, but the amount of cash retrieved was obviously not to the first gunman's liking.

"This is it?" The girl quickly nodded. "Is there cash anywhere else?" The girl shook her head. "Damn it!" He directed his attention to his companion. "I thought you said this place would have a lot of cash."

"It does. She's lying."

"I'm not!" she screamed, and the man pointed his gun directly between her eyes.

"Where's the rest of it?"

"I swear, that's all there is. I can't get any more!"

Without warning, the man pulled the trigger. Ducky winced at the sight of the girl's ruined face, briefly visible before she too disappeared behind the counter. Choked screams and sobs emanated from the small group surrounding the M.E. and his assistant, further agitating the two gunmen and their guns were soon turned on the cluster of terrified men and women.

Ducky immediately saw their intent and tried to dissuade them. "You got what you wanted. You can walk away from this. There's no need for further carnage here tonight."

"Shut up, old man," the first gunman snapped in reply before turning to his companion. "What do you think, Ty?"

"I think it's time to get the show on the road." Suddenly he grinned. "And this show doesn't need an audience." He turned, firing six shots in rapid succession, and Ducky watched in horror as the remaining customers fell from their chairs, red blooming from their chests as the bullets hit home. He heard Jimmy swear loudly and before he even realized what was happening, the younger man stepped in front of him, blocking the next shot that came from reaching its intended target. He felt Jimmy's body slam into him and he staggered backwards before falling to the floor with Jimmy on top. The extra weight of Jimmy's body prevented Ducky from being able to catch himself, and he hit the floor with a jarring crash, knocking the wind out of him. Unable to draw a breath, he did the only thing he could: he closed his eyes and played dead.

He felt a sharp kick to his leg and barely managed to not respond. Soon he heard footsteps receding and the door to the shop opened. After several moments, he was finally able to suck in a breath which brought with it pain, but not the pain of being shot. No, the source of his discomfort was the weight on top of him, and a different type of pain arose when he realized that the body on top of his own was completely still.

"Jimmy?" No response. He managed to extract himself and when he saw Jimmy's face and those wide, unseeing eyes, he felt a surge of anguish unlike any he had felt for a very long time. Another loss, in a lifetime already full of losses, but this was different. Although he had always outwardly maintained their professional roles, Jimmy was much more than an assistant to him. He was one of the few people that Ducky would consider family, and the pain he felt was what he imagined a parent would feel with the loss of a child.

"Oh, Jimmy. I am so very sorry." He placed a slightly trembling hand on Jimmy's forehead. "I never wanted you to make such a sacrifice. You shouldn't have made it, lad. I'm an old man. You had your whole life ahead of you, and so much to live for. It should have been me…"

He stayed in place for several moments before he could bear to remember his duties. There were others that might still be able to be saved. He needed to check. He needed to call the authorities… But the will to perform those tasks seemed to have vanished as he continued to stare at his friend. He had no idea why he'd invited Jimmy along tonight. Normally he preferred enjoy his tea without the company of others, but something had made him crave companionship. Perhaps it was because he had spent so much time alone recently, or because he had wanted to continue the feeling of camaraderie the two of them had shared earlier that evening. Or perhaps it was simply a realization that he didn't have all that much time left to share the stories he so enjoyed telling. Had he been selfish in asking Jimmy to be the witness to those stories, and ultimately bringing him to his demise? There was no way either of them could have known, it was true, but had his own ego truly played a part in this tragedy? So many questions, many of which he wasn't sure he wanted answered.

Finally Ducky was able to tear his gaze away from his fallen companion and he reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He let out a soft curse when he saw that the screen had been broken, rendering it useless, and struggled to his feet to go in search of a landline to use. He found a phone, placed the call to 911, where he described the situation, and was assured the police would be there as soon as possible. He was preparing to call Jethro when he heard a loud gasp. He turned to see Jimmy sit up and groan in pain.

"Who in their right mind would rob a tea shop?" he muttered softly and then, as if suddenly realizing where he was, quickly turned and searched for his mentor. A look of relief crossed his face when he saw Ducky standing a few feet away. "Dr. Mallard, are you OK?"

Ducky could only stare in shock before he finally found his voice. "Jimmy? What…?" Uncharacteristically at a loss for words, he continued to stare at the impossible sight in front of him. Jimmy soon registered his mentor's silence and a mix of fear and worry crossed his face.

"Uh, Dr. Mallard…are you-?"

"Jimmy…you…you were…"

"It's OK, , I can explain." The sounds of sirens became discernable and a look of panic crossed Jimmy's face. "But please don't tell anyone, Dr. Mallard."

"Don't tell…? Jimmy, you were dead!"

"I know," he replied sadly. "And I'm so sorry you had to see that. But please, please don't tell anyone."

"But how…?"

"I promise I'll explain later. I will, I swear. Please, Dr. Mallard…"

Ducky slowly nodded, wondering what in the world could explain what he had seen, and realizing that this story was likely to put his any of his own stories to shame.

TBC…

A/N: Shennachie is Scottish-Gaelic, meaning 'The Storyteller'.