Rating: FR7.
Characters: Donald Mallard, Jimmy Palmer, and the team
Summary: Why do Ducky and Palmer always show up late to the crime scene?
Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters.
Many thanks to tiedyephoenix who helped me navigate Washington, DC and to Augrey07 for reviewing this story.
"Where is Ducky? He should be here by now." Gibbs barked as he paced through the house that was the crime scene. Lt. Commander Arthur Graham had been suspected of misappropriating funds from the accounts he oversaw at the Pentagon. When they'd shown up with a warrant to search his home, they'd found him smothered in the bedroom. Now, not only did they have to execute the original search warrant, but they also had to process a homicide. They'd been at the scene long enough for the team to complete their initial examination and for Gibbs to want the body to be moved so they could continue.
Tony and Tim were in the hallway, having finished documenting the details of the homicide. "I bet you they're lost again." Tony smirked. "Whose fault do you think it is this time?"
Tim considered. "I'll bet you twenty that Palmer took a wrong turn. That's what usually makes them late."
"I'll bet you twenty that they are late because Ducky gave Palmer the wrong directions." Jimmy had been Tony's confidant during Gibbs' Mexican hiatus, and he knew the medical assistant wasn't as scattered-brained as he seemed.
"You're on. I've ridden with Palmer before, I know how he drives."
"Well, I've chauffeured Ducky around before and I know how confusing his directions can be."
"If you two are finished, I could use your help. The desk needs to be cleared off and the files boxed up to go back to NCIS." Ziva had been assigned to package the contents of Graham's office and there was quite a bit more work to do.
"I'll get the computer packed up for you, Ziva." Tim offered.
"So, Ziva, do you want in on our bet? What do you think happened to our doctoring duo? Is it Ducky's or Jimmy's fault that they're late?" Tony moved over to check the contents of the top drawer in the filing cabinet.
Ziva thought for a moment. "I will put twenty down on both of them being responsible."
Just then there was a bustle at the door. "Sorry to be late, Jethro. Mr. Palmer, for all his advanced education, still cannot tell his right hand from his left." Ducky huffed as he walked over to the victim.
"Doctor, I thought I made that turn the way you told me to. I can't help it that you had problems reading the map." Jimmy was defensive; he might have some difficulty with his right and left, but when the navigator keeps changing the directions sometimes it's better to make a wrong turn.
Ziva smirked at the other two as she held out her hand.
Tim reached for his wallet to hand over the money, but Tony held up a hand "Wait a minute, we still don't know who was really at fault. Did Jimmy make the wrong turn on his own or did Ducky read the map wrong?"
"How do we find out?" Tim liked the idea of postponing judgment.
"I have an idea." Tony smiled.
"What's up guys? Do you have all of your paperwork done? Are you going out to celebrate the end of the Graham case?" Abby was briskly moving about the lab, putting her babies to sleep for the night.
The Graham case was closed; they'd identified the Lt. Commander's killer as an administrative assistant who had partnered with him in embezzling the money. Maria Locke hadn't wanted to share and smothered Graham while he slept. They'd arrested her at the airport as she attempted to leave the country. Now that the casework was done, the team could move on to a more personal issue.
"Not yet. Are you working with Agent Sanders' team on the surveillance of that diner?" Tony put on one of his most charming smiles.
Abby knew that look—Tony wanted something. "Yes, but what does that…"
"Can you requisition an extra listening device?"
"Sure, but you could do that, too."
"Well, no, we can't. We won't be using it in an official capacity." Tony hedged.
"Tony, I still think this is a bad idea." Tim warned.
"We already went over this, McProper. We're not doing this to blackmail them; think of it as a fact finding mission." Tony rationalized.
"I still agree with Tim." Ziva spoke up.
"Guys, we're doing this for their own good. One of these days something bad could to happen to them out there if we don't do something. How can we help them if we don't know what's going on?" Tony oozed sincerity.
"What if Gibbs finds out?" Tim was weakening.
"He won't if we're careful. We wouldn't even be here if little miss ex-Mossad had her basic spy kit up to date."
"What, you mean you were going to leave me out of… what exactly are you thinking of leaving me out of?" Abby was confused, but the team ignored her to continue arguing among themselves.
"May I remind you, Tony, that all of my listening devices were destroyed when my apartment was blown up? I will not be receiving replacements from Mossad." Ziva retorted.
"You've replaced your knives already, haven't you?" Tony rejoined.
"Um, Tony, don't you think you'd better get back to the subject?" Tim was seeing the warning signals on Ziva's face that Tony was missing.
"Purchasing weaponry to protect oneself takes priority over 'spy gadgets' that I hope never to need for personal use again." Ziva spoke stiffly.
"All you really need for protection are a couple of boxes of paperclips and a letter opener or two." Tony said disagreeably.
"Guys… the thing you want my help with?" Abby tried to break the argument up.
"I'm out of practice with the paperclip. Would you like to help me comb up on my skills?" Ziva moved into Tony's personal space.
Tony backed away. "It's 'brush up,' not…"
"HEY!" Tim's yell silenced his coworkers. "Abby, we need the listening device to resolve an issue related to certain NCIS personnel."
"Ooh, sounds exciting. What kind of issue?" Abby perked up.
"If I may, since it was my idea." Tony held up a hand to stop Tim and took over. "We need your help to get a bug that we don't have to officially sign out and we will most likely need you to monitor it during the crucial time period."
"Who are you going to spy on? Are you going to listen in on Gibbs when he's in his 'conference room?' Because you know he'd find out and I won't help with that."
"No, we want to solve the mystery of the missing medical examiner. What happens to Ducky and Palmer when they enter the coroner's van? Do they go into the Twilight Zone? Is there a Bermuda Triangle effect when they pass through the Navy Yard gate? Was Ducky cursed to always be late by a tribal witch doctor? Is Ziva's driving so close to the speed of light that by comparison…"
"We want to know why Ducky and Palmer always arrive late to the crime scene." Ziva interrupted Tony.
"When they show up late, they both claim that it's the other one's fault and we want to know what is really happening. Tony wants to place a listening device in the van to record their conversation." Tim added.
"How much money do you have riding on this?" Abby smirked.
"That's immaterial. With the bug, we'll know just what they are doing when they get lost. Our problem is that we'll most likely be on the road and we'll be unable to monitor the feedback from the bug and the GPS data. Will you help us?" Tony pleaded.
"I'm in!" Abby moved over to her computer. "Let's set this up."
Several days later, Abby was analyzing the evidence found at the scene of a drug bust at Norfolk Navy Base. She'd just started amplifying the DNA in a blood sample to identify the missing shooter when Tony called. "Abby, we've just been called out; it's time to start our experiment. We're leaving the Navy Yard and Ducky and Jimmy should be right behind us. Can you start the recording?"
"I'll start it now. Where are you going?"
"Local LEOs have identified a body found in a park near Countryside as Marine Sergeant James Davis. Tim is texting you the address."
"Okay, I've got the address. This place shouldn't be too hard to find; it looks like it'll take you 40 minutes to get there if the traffic doesn't slow you down. I have a GPS fix on the coroner's van and the microphone feed is streaming through my sound system. All systems are go. Operation Monitor Medic is now in progress."
"Monitor Medic?"
"I wanted something alliterative."
"It sounds like you're having fun."
"This is exciting. I feel like I'm in a spy movie. 'Ve haff been vatching you.'" Abby laughed then remembered something. "Oh, I've locked door to my lab, so you won't get in trouble."
"You mean so you won't get in trouble."
"Nope, I'd tell them you were holding Bert hostage and making me do your bidding."
"Ha ha, thanks for being so considerate Abs."
"You're welcome. I'm picking up something now." Muffled voices were coming through her speakers.
"Where are we headed today, Dr. Mallard?"
"A park located near Countryside. Are you familiar with that area?"
"I've been out that way before, would you like me to drive?"
"It sounds like they're just about ready to leave." Abby paused as she heard the car doors shut and the engine start. "There they go. They should arrive at your crime scene by 10:02."
"Thanks, Abby. We'll see you later."
"Tony, is that all you can say?"
"Okay, how about this." Tony deepened his voice. "We'll see you at headquarters, Femme Forensic. Agent Dashing DiNozzo signing out."
As Abby put away her reagents and samples, she listened to the conversation in the van. Unlike her co-workers, she'd always found Ducky's stories entertaining. He'd traveled to so many places and met some very unusual people. If she were lucky, she just might learn something interesting about Gibbs. The two of them went way back.
Jimmy was saying, "Why are parks such a popular location to dispose of bodies? There's something wrong about a place that kids play being turned into a crime scene."
"At least in this weather it is improbable that a picnicking family found this body, unlike the Petty Officer discovered last summer."
"Very true. I bet those kids will never again think of fireworks as the only things that explode on the fourth of July."
"Yes, it's sad that their memories are so tainted. I can recall so many wonderful al fresco feasts. There was one in Alma-Ata—now it's called Almaty—that was quite elaborate. Years ago we were there on a diplomatic mission, when it was still a Soviet Republic. Our hosts had us flown to a site in the mountains for a formal welcome from the Kazakh leadership. We were at the foot of the Tien Shen Mountains and surrounded by the most amazing scenery. They presented us with a formal feast beginning with a welcoming bowl of fermented mare's milk called kumis."
"Fermented milk? Was it really alcoholic?"
"Yes, kumis contains a small amount of alcohol, about what you'd find in beer, and it has a rather bitter taste. We prayed a prayer familiar to most missionaries and diplomats, 'Lord if I get it down, will you keep it down?'" Ducky chuckled. "Goodness, the traffic is slowing, we should take the Rosslyn exit and to find a way around it. We do not want to be late once again. Where was I?"
"You were talking about Kazakhstan."
"Ah, yes. They roasted a sheep, and presented all of the members of the delegation with various parts of the head, each symbolic of various qualities they believed us to possess. I received the palate, which meant that I was a great orator."
"Really?" Jimmy's voice sounded choked. Abby imagined that Jimmy was repressing laughter out of respect for his mentor.
"We were entertained by a number of young people on horseback. The Kazakh people were formerly nomads and have great pride in their horses. Much of their traditional entertainment comes from games involving riding. One particularly amusing game was called Kiss the Girl. Please pull off here, my boy."
"Yes, Dr. Mallard. What kind of game was that?"
"What?"
"Kiss the Girl."
"Oh, yes. Now turn here. A young woman would take off on horseback chased by a young man a few minutes later. If he could catch her before reaching the finish line, he would collect a kiss. However, if he missed her, the second part of the game would begin. She would chase him back to the other side of the field with a whip and—Mr. Palmer, if you could turn here please."
"Yes, Dr. Mallard."
"Now we need to go straight through this intersection."
"Could you finish telling me about the game, doctor?"
"Another time Mr. Palmer, I need to focus my attention on the map right now. Please turn right here. No, no, the other way. Right."
"Oops, sorry."
Abby moved to the computer displaying their GPS signal and watched as Palmer turned the van around. She checked their location. "No, Ducky. You need to go straight. You're going to end up on residential streets if you go that way."
"Now we should be coming up on… yes, take a left here."
"Doctor, that's one way. I can't go down there."
"Oh, go to the next light then and turn."
Abby was confused. "Ducky where are you going? That's not even a road on the map."
Ducky's voice came back. "Well this can't be right. Hmm, let's try…"
"I don't want to listen anymore." Abby turned down the volume and went to the microscope in ballistics lab. She needed to map the striations on the bullet and submit it to the database to a check for a match to previous shooting.
A short while later, Abby was finished documenting the marks on the bullet. While she was running the information through the database, she checked on the coroner's van. The location of their GPS signal showed her they'd returned to the GW Parkway. Curious, Abby pulled up the record of their travel; the route they took to get around the traffic was as tangled as the hairball Cousin Mozelle's cat coughed up on the kitchen floor the last time Abby visited her in Louisiana. Looking at the time and their position, Abby calculated that they were now twenty-two minutes behind schedule. She turned up the volume on the transmitter in the van.
Jimmy was speaking, "…here to study. Mom doesn't mind. I went home a few weeks ago and they know this class is important to me."
"Ah yes, molecular biology, the science of the processes related to genetic information is fascinating. I once met the man who articulated the central dogma, Francis Crick, at a lecture at Cambridge. He was not a very congenial man, but a brilliant scientist."
"Really."
"Yes, the collaboration he had with James Watson produced one of the greatest scientific discoveries of the twentieth century, the elucidation of the structure of DNA. Of course, they neglected to credit Rosalind Franklin for the crystallography she did that was responsible for their findings."
"Yes, I know Dr. Mallard. I never understood how that could happen."
"The attitude of many male scientists at that time was such that she was not considered as much more than an assistant and I'm sure they took advantage of her. Watson admitted quite freely that her co-worker Maurice Wilkins had secretly made copies of her work and showed them to him. He acknowledged later that they rushed their results, because she was only a few steps from… where are you going?"
"I'm taking the exit for the beltway."
"Not this one. The next one takes us south on the beltway and closer to our destination."
"Oh, yes, sorry doctor."
There was a pause and Abby wondered why Ducky didn't start speaking about Rosalind Franklin again. She wished they'd installed a camera in the van as well as a listening device.
"Mr. Palmer, you need to move into the other lane."
I'm sorry Doctor Mallard, the cars in that lane won't let met move over."
Abby started praying as she watched them merge onto I 495 North. "Please don't try a short cut, Ducky. Please don't try a shortcut."
"I'll turn around at the next exit." Jimmy sounded meek.
Abby watched them pull off at the next exit and revised their estimated arrival time to include seven more minutes.
Ducky's voice broke into the silence of the lab. He'd given Jimmy a rather impressive lecture on keeping his eyes open, and Jimmy must not have wanted to get him started again, since they'd been traveling in silence after deciding to take route 267. Abby had to restrain herself from calling to let them know it would be faster for them to take 193. However, calling to give them directions would not only taint the experiment they were running, but also it would let them know she was keeping track of them. Abby wasn't sure how Ducky would react to knowing she was eavesdropping on their conversations.
"Mr. Palmer, you will need to take the next opportunity to exit and find a rest station."
"Doctor, we have plenty of fuel."
"We aren't stopping for fuel."
"Then what…"
"When a gentleman reaches a certain age, the frequency of necessary trips to restroom facilities increases."
"Quite right doctor, I'm pulling off at the next exit."
"You know, I've spoken with scientists who have worked in research submersibles such as the Alvin stationed at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution. The inside diameter of the titanium passenger sphere is six feet; it becomes quite crowded with three people and all of the necessary equipment. The dives last an average eight hours, so they've come up with a solution to the lack of necessary facilities called HEREs. That stands for Human Element Range Extender. Evidently they make a female adaptor for them as well. I've heard from various…"
Abby turned down the volume on the receiver and turned up her music. "That's way too much information, Ducky." She watched as they stopped and added twelve more minutes to their estimated arrival time when she saw the van pull back onto 267.
An alarm she'd set on the computer told her that the coroner's van was a few miles outside of Dulles, so Abby turned volume back up and checked the time. Palmer must have been putting on the gas; they'd actually made up four minutes. She calculated their new arrival time should be 10:39.
Half-listening to Ducky and Jimmy, Abby saw the mass spec had finished analyzing the substance mixed with the cocaine and she moved back to her desk to study the results and write the report for Agent Hoffman. They should be able to tell if this batch was linked to one that Metro detectives had been following.
Ducky was saying, "Let's see here, we are coming up on the airport and we need to take the exit for 28. I believe we'll want to go north. Hello, there's the exit for Chantilly. Chantilly always reminds me of that song." He started to sing. "Chantilly lace and a pretty face/ And a pony tail hanging down/ That wiggle in the walk and giggle in the talk/ Makes the world go 'round." Abby heard some chuckles as Jimmy joined in the singing at the end.
"Mr. Palmer, did you know that Dulles was supposed to be named the Chantilly International Airport before this song came out? It was in the process of construction when The Big Bopper recorded the song. The lyrics were a little too provocative for the times and as a result the airport was named Dulles International Airport after…"
As they exited and started traveling south, Abby was banging her head on the desk.
Tony finished bagging potential objects of interest on the west side of the crime scene; it appeared that Sergeant Davis had been killed by a gunshot wound. Ducky had yet to arrive at the scene to remind them that not to make assumptions, he would know more once he had the body in autopsy. He checked his watch; it was 10:40, which meant Ducky and Palmer had gotten lost again. Tony looked for Gibbs and found him talking on the phone as he paced near the van. The coast being clear, he walked over to Tim and Ziva where they were working on the other side of the body. "This was a good day to run our little experiment. They're really late, aren't they?"
"Yes and I'm beginning to get worried. Should we call them?" Tim stood up and turned to face Tony.
"No, Ducky becomes disturbed when we check on him. Maybe we should have Abby locate them." Ziva suggested.
"What if Gibbs hears us talking to Abby and figures out what we've done?" Tim was nervous.
"We can always say we're checking with Abby to see if she has any results for us on the Hanson case." Tony reasoned.
"She is not working on that evidence this morning." Ziva countered.
"Gibbs doesn't know that. Remember what Director Shepherd once told us? 'What Gibbs doesn't know won't hurt us.' That's a great line; she adapted it from the 1942 movie To Be or Not to Be: 'what a man doesn't know won't hurt his wife.' Jack Benny and Carole Lombard play…" Tony saw his teammates' expressions change. "He's right behind me again, isn't he?"
Tony turned around to face Gibbs. "Hey, Boss, we're just discussing the merits of comedic movies made during World War II. But you aren't interested in that." Tony switched to senior agent mode. "We've finished photographing and sketching the crime scene. Agents McGee and David are in the process…"
Gibbs interrupted Tony. "Where are they?"
"Ziva and McGee?" Tony pretended to misunderstand and was awarded a head slap.
"Ducky and Palmer. Where are they?" Gibbs asked again.
"I don't know."
"Find out. I know you have coroner's van bugged."
"Would I do that?"
"Tony, you'd do just about anything to win a bet."
"How did you know?"
Gibbs said nothing and Tony grew uncomfortable under his stare.
"Okay, I'll find out." Tony dialed Abby's number. "Hey, Abby, where are they?"
"Tony, you won't believe what these guys have done. First they tried to get around the traffic on the parkway with a shortcut at Rosslyn. Rosslyn! Even Gibbs could get lost there. Not that he would, I mean the boss man's got an amazing sense of direction. I just said that to…"
"Abby, Gibbs just wants to know where they are."
"Gibbs! How does he know?" Abby's voice was audible to anyone within six feet of Tony's phone. "Are you going to get me into trouble, Tony DiNozzo? Do you know what happened to the last person who did something like this?"
"I think I'm about to find out."
"Tell Gibbs that I have good news and bad news. The good news is that they're on 28."
"So they aren't far away. What's the bad news?"
"They're headed south. They don't even know they're going the wrong way."
"Oh, boy." Tony looked up at Gibbs, who sighed and pulled out his phone.
When they returned to NCIS, Tony, Tim, and Ziva took the evidence they'd collected from the crime scene and the sergeant's home. The lab was silent, and the strangeness of it stopped Tony abruptly causing Ziva to run into him. "Abby? Abby, where are you?" Tony was worried that something was wrong, but Abby emerged from her office and stood in the doorway. "There you are."
"Hey, you're back." Abby did not move forward to greet them.
"Yes, and we brought evidence for you. All of the indications point toward Sergeant Davis committing suicide. We found a letter in his pocket addressed to 'whom it may concern.'" Ziva pulled out the bag with the note inside.
"It looks like a lot of bad things happened to him all at once. Of course until we know otherwise, we still have to treat it as a homicide. We stopped by his home to pick up his computer, mail, and some handwriting samples for comparison." Tim put his box down on the table beside the others.
"Now, about that other matter you were working on today…" Tony began.
"Before we go any further, I need to know something. Are we okay with Gibbs?" Abby still stood in the doorway to her office twisting her fingers.
The three agents exchanged looks. "I do not know; he said nothing to me." Ziva offered.
"He didn't give me a head slap when he told me to be sure the bug was returned to you." Tim tried some humor and held out the clipboard with the chain of evidence for Abby to sign.
"I'll tentatively take that as a good sign." Abby looked somewhat reassured and moved forward to take the clipboard.
"So, what happened out there, Abs?" Tony asked. He was starting to feel slightly ashamed of his plan. It had sounded harmless, but since talking with Gibbs he felt like a criminal invading Ducky's and Palmer's privacy.
"You wouldn't believe it. I have a new respect for female oceanographers and I don't think I'll ever look at a horse in the same way again."
"What?" Tim looked confused.
"Why don't I just play the highlights for you." While waiting for the team to return, Abby had compiled a recording of the critical parts of the conversation between medical examiner and his assistant.
When the recording was finished, the three agents looked mildly stunned. "I had no idea…" Ziva couldn't find the words to finish.
"Yeah." Tim agreed.
"I want to know more about that game." Tony smirked.
"You would." Ziva retorted.
"I just thought maybe Jimmy needed better glasses." Tim remarked.
"Or Ritalin, for ADD." Tony suggested
"No, you'd want to get him fish oil or Ginkgo Biloba, they're natural products and much better for your body." Abby corrected.
"There's no way to eliminate Ducky's bathroom breaks." Tim mused.
"You could get him one of those thingies he talked about." Tony chuckled.
"Would you like to explain the reason you were giving him one?" Ziva challenged
"If you four are done fooling around; there is one thing we could get them that might help." A new voice cut into their discussion and they turned to see Gibbs had entered the room.
"Boss? Hey! We uh… we were just…" This was one of the times Tony wished he weren't the senior agent.
Gibbs stared at them for a moment giving them time to reflect on their behavior. "Give me your wagers and get rid of that recording."
"Boss, what are you going to do?" Tim pulled together the courage to ask as they handed Gibbs the money.
"We're going to do something that will actually help them."
A week and a half later, a body identified as Petty Officer Felicity Morris was found behind a dumpster. MCRT had been called to the scene and the medical examiner and his assistant were just behind them on their way to the coroner's van.
"It was certainly thoughtful of Abigail to bring us refreshments this morning. There is nothing like a cup of Earl Grey with which to start the morning." Ducky cleared his throat. "Did you remember to restock the van after our last trip?"
"Yes, it's restocked and it should be nice and clean, too. Tim and Tony were washing the windows and vacuuming the carpet earlier this week." Jimmy zipped up his jacket in preparation for the cold weather.
"Really?"
"They said they figured I could use the help considering how busy I was with my classes."
"Well, that was nice. The MCRT team must have had a slow week. Ziva volunteered to help me with my paperwork. She said that it would improve her English." Ducky paused and his eyes narrowed with thought. "Now this is interesting. I wonder if they lost a bet?"
"Doctor, you don't think they're being nice just because of a bet?"
"Oh, no Mr. Palmer, of course not. However, you must admit, the timing of all of their benevolent work is slightly suspicious."
While they were speaking, they arrived at the van and Ducky turned to more immediate concerns. "Mr. Palmer, I'm told our guest is waiting for us in Capitol Heights. Are you familiar with that area?"
"I had a classmate that lived out there. Would you like me to drive?"
"Yes, please. Hello, what is this?" Ducky climbed into the passenger seat to find a bright red bow on a small screen affixed to the dashboard.
"There's a note here, doctor." Jimmy handed Ducky a letter.
"Let me see." Ducky began to read. "'To Dr. Mallard and Mr. Palmer. We want to keep our employees supplied with the latest of equipment and technology. This navigational system has been available for several years and we've been remiss in not equipping your vehicle with one. Budget considerations made the requisition of one impossible this year, but our agents took up a collection to provide you with this unit. You will find today's destination as well as several other commonly visited locations entered in the memory. Best wishes from your colleagues at NCIS.'"
"Well that was nice of them." Jimmy beamed.
"Yes, quite."
"Do you think we should use it?"
"It is probably not necessary, but we can turn it on if it becomes apparent we need to do so." Jimmy started the van and pulled out of the parking lot. Ducky settled into his seat "Did I ever tell you of the time…"
The End