Title: Friends Indeed
Rating: Probably a T. Maybe not. I'll be safe though.
Disclaimer: Not my characters. No infringement intended.
Summary: When Ducky finds himself in a predicament, the team goes above and beyond to help him.
Author's note: I would like to thank Tweeter for generously allowing me to use a couple of her ideas, which she originally published in her story, "Monday Night at the Mallards." Her delightful story can be found here by searching her profile and clicking on the link.
As it happened, most of the team was in autopsy, having a post-mortem translated into layman's terms by Ducky and Jimmy, when the call came in.
Jimmy had an idea what the call was about, by watching Dr. Mallard's face contort from panic to frustration to tired resolve.
"But Judith, please… you know Mother suffers from dementia… yes, yes, I know… oh, no, please, do not quit on me now… well, yes, I understand that, of course, but…"
At this point, the team was exchanging wordless communication, glancing regretfully at one another. They watched as Jimmy sat down on a stool and drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly and deliberately. The young morgue assistant reached up and pulled off his cap, running his hand through his loose dark curls, resting his face in his hand. He winced slightly, as his face took on a pained expression born of experience and resignation - this was a party that Jimmy Palmer had been to a few too many times already, and he hated it every single time, because the Hostess had a way of driving away her guests with alarming regularity and efficiency.
When Ducky had hung up the phone, he turned to the team first. "Well, I suppose that settles that. You are all clear on our victim's cause of death, are you not?"
Ziva glanced at Gibbs, who in turn looked briefly to McGee and Tony. The four agents nodded in unison. "I think we've got it, Duck," Gibbs said, speaking for his team.
"Excellent," he said. He then turned to Jimmy.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave work early, Mr. Palmer. Can you handle things here from this point on?"
Jimmy looked up with such a regretful look of sympathy in his green eyes, that not even the round lenses of his glasses could hide it from the older man. "Yes, Doctor. I can take it from here. I gather another home care nurse quit on you?"
Ducky sighed and nodded. "Yes, Jimmy. She wouldn't even stay to finish out her shift, or allow me to finish out mine, here. I swear, Mother becomes more and more difficult to manage with each passing month. I just don't know what to do anymore. She's driven away every single nurse I've hired. It's becoming increasingly difficult to find someone to care for her during the day."
Jimmy nodded, and exchanged a look with Gibbs and the others. "Don't worry about things here, Sir. You go on home, take care of your Mother. This isn't exactly my first rodeo, either." Jimmy smiled warmly, trying to reassure his mentor that he wasn't a child who needed supervision.
Unlike, it would seem, his mother.
When Ducky had briefed Jimmy on what was left to be done, bid goodbye to everyone, and they'd all left the lab, Jimmy sat down a moment, thinking. A thought did occur to him, but he rejected it almost immediately. There were only so many things you could ask people to do, even if they had come to feel like an extended family of sorts. Anyway, he usually felt that he was squarely at the bottom of the food chain around here. Who the hell would go along with this, especially if it was brought forward by a lowly morgue assistant.
Well, on the other hand… maybe it really did bear consideration. It might be too much to ask… but it was worth a shot, at least. Besides, he didn't know what else to do at this point. He knew Gibbs would probably be agreeable – he and Dr. Mallard were old friends from a few years back already. McGee would probably do it, too, because that was just the kind of compassionate and loyal man he was. Abby would do it because she had a huge heart of gold, and Ziva had a way of surprising them now and then, by showing an alarming amount of compassion – something that they weren't accustomed to seeing very often, hidden behind her tough-girl Mossad officer exterior.
Tony… well, if worse came to worse, he might be able to dig up something to blackmail Tony into it. But, he figured, with enough convincing, and maybe a few trips down Guilt Boulevard… he was sure that Tony could be convinced, one way or another.
Of course, it was only fair that he take his turn, as well.
But, he got along fine with Dr. Mallard's mother – so much so, that the old woman had somehow gotten it into her head that he was her grandson. He could hardly believe it himself, but he had taken to calling her "Grandmother," for the sole purpose of avoiding the futile and frustrating task of having to explain to her that he wasn't actually her dear boy Donald's son, every single time they were in each other's company.
Anyway, he had figured at the time, if it did an old woman's heart good to think that her only child - who had in fact, never married and had his own family - had given her a grandson… it really wasn't that big of a sacrifice.
"Well, I suppose that's it then," he said quietly to himself. He took a deep breath, and let it out in a rush of resolve, then he stood and set himself to the task of wrapping things up in autopsy for the day.
……………………………………………………………………………
Gibbs almost ran into Jimmy, as the younger man exited the elevator.
"Oh! Agent Gibbs… I'm sorry…" he hastily apologized, stammering in a nervous torrent. He'd finally built up enough courage to come to the squad room, round everyone up, and throw this crazy idea into the wind… hoping that they'd all reach up and grab onto it. But bowling into Gibbs, who scared the hell out of him on a good day, had shaken his nerves somewhat.
Gibbs stood, patiently staring at him, his blue eyes turned slightly upwards at the barely taller young man, as a rush of thought made its way through Jimmy's mind. "Suck it up, Palmer," he told himself. "Just remember, it's for Dr. Mallard. Anything to help Dr. Mallard. Even this."
"Uh," Jimmy said, pushing his hesitation aside, "Agent Gibbs, do you have a moment?" Gibbs took on a thoughtful look, glanced at his watch, then nodded. "Sure, Jimmy. What's on your mind?"
"If you would be so kind as to…" Jimmy said, gesturing the team leader to return to the squad room. Gibbs said nothing, only giving him the tiniest of enigmatic smiles, and obliging the nervous young man without question or argument. Jimmy was delighted and relieved to see that for some reason, Abby was in the squad room as well, standing by McGee's desk, chatting with him about some thing or another. Now, he could kill two birds with one stone – and not have to find the courage to do this twice in one day.
When the two men walked back into the team's little section of the squad room, Jimmy waved the others over. When they'd circled him, each with their own expression of curiosity, he took another deep breath, sucked it up, and let fly with his plan.
…………………………………………………………………………
"I can't believe I just agreed to that," Tony said in disbelief, almost to himself. "How the hell did Palmer talk me into that, anyway?"
"He appealed to your compassion, Tony," McGee said lightly. He grinned sweetly as Tony looked up at him, eyebrow raised.
"He gave you a puppy-dog look, reminded you that this whole thing was solely for Ducky, and made you feel like a heel if you refused to join us." Gibbs fired another sweet grin in Tony's direction.
"Damn, I gotta learn me how to do that," Tony muttered to himself.
……………………………………………………………………………
"Mr. Palmer… are you absolutely sure about this?"
Ducky could hardly believe his ears. Here, his young assistant had come up with a plan to help him and his mother, while buying time for him to find yet another home care nurse, to tend to his mother during the day.
Jimmy nodded. "Absolutely, Sir. Everyone agreed to it. Even Tony." Jimmy gave the old Doctor a cheeky grin of triumph.
Ducky didn't know what Jimmy had done to convince Tony to do this, and frankly, in retrospect, the older man really wasn't sure that he wanted to know, either. "Jimmy, I don't know what to say… thank you, my dear boy. Mother will be delighted… she is so very fond of you, you know." Ducky smiled, tired, but happy, and relieved, and more than a little overwhelmed by the gesture.
He lived with his mother, day in, day out, and for as much as he loved her, the few hours that he had to spend with her taxed his patience on most days. That the entire team was willing to do this, when in truth, they really didn't have to – nearly brought him to tears.
"Tim will be here in the morning. Gibbs gave him leave from the office tomorrow. He can have his laptop here and work from your house. Abby tells me he's an excellent cook, too. I'm sure things will work out fine with them." Ducky nodded at this.
"You know, Jimmy, you really could have told me this tomorrow," Ducky said suddenly. Jimmy shrugged. "It's kinda my turn, Sir. The idea was, I take the first shift, since we're all caught up in autopsy. So today you can go in to the Navy Yard and catch up on your paperwork, I left some reports ready for you to review and sign off on. I'll stay here and look after Mrs. Mallard. Tonight when you get home, dinner will be ready. We'll eat, I'll clean up, and then I can go. Tim will be here in the morning to take over. Tony takes the next day, because it falls on the weekend, then the rotation gets a little loose… but it'll all work out."