Title: For Today
Fandom: NCIS
Author: Alidiabin
Beta: Anonymous033
Words: 1,023
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings/ Spoilers: general S8.
Parings: none
Summary: Ducky's decides to live for today

For Today

Donald 'Ducky' Mallard had always rather enjoyed birthdays; as a child a birthday meant a chance for relatives and family friends to spoil him with gifts or stories. The long tales of family members' escapades were far more valuable to him than a toy. In boarding school, birthdays had meant making tents out of sheets and hiding under them after lights out, with the secret supply of sweets and ghost stories. As a medical school student, birthdays had usually meant getting severely intoxicated and watching others making fools of themselves. The birthdays once Ducky had graduated had often involved a beautiful woman, an expensive meal, and something cultural: the ballet, the opera, or an art gallery. As Ducky remembered them as an old man, he found he had enjoyed all the different ways of celebrating his birthday. All of them were good memories to look back on as he hit the last stretch of his long and happy life.

But Ducky's seventy-third birthday snuck up on him, and it was Ziva who reminded him about it. During one of their impromptu high teas in Autopsy she mentioned it.

"What are you doing for your birthday?" she asked as she blew on the still warm tea.

"It would be cooler if you put milk in your tea," Ducky said, hearing Ziva's question but not registering it.

"What are you doing for your birthday?" Ziva repeated as she took a sip of tea. She swore under her breath in a foreign language as the hot liquid burnt her tongue.

"My birthday isn't for another month, my dear," Ducky said. He had not even realized his birthday was soon; surely there was another month? Surely, it couldn't be so close.

"Ducky, it's the fifteenth; your birthday is on the nineteenth," Ziva said with a chuckle.

"I hadn't realized," Ducky said. Ziva gave him a look, and continued to nurse her tea. Her cell phone beeped; she looked at it and sighed.

"Tony needs help with his paperwork," she said.

"You mean Anthony is bored," Ducky said. Ziva smiled.

"Probably," she said, heading towards the door; she turned back to him for a second. "We should do something for your birthday." He opened his mouth to reply but she had already left.

XXX

Ducky was left alone in the empty autopsy room; Palmer was sorting something out at medical school and would probably be going to see Breena. Gibbs had disappeared, Abby was doing work for another team, the rest of Team Gibbs had a pile of paperwork, and surprisingly there were no dead petty officers for him to investigate the deaths of.

How did I forget my own birthday? he asked himself.

Maybe he was just too busy, but with what? At his age women were not exactly a dime a dozen; Gibbs was not the most social friend and was one of the few he had left, and it was not as if his work at NCIS took up all of his time. Of Abby, McGee, Ziva, Tony, and Palmer, Ducky did not expect frequent social outings as they were young and had their own lives; and recently Tony and Abby were dealing with their failed fleeting romances, McGee, Ziva, and Palmer in differing stages of their respective relationships.

Maybe he just forgot. Forgetfulness was a symptom of Alzheimer's. He was getting old, and it ran in his family. It was hardly an illogical hypothesis. He would end up as lost and broken as his mother and Dr Magnus. How cruel would that be? Ducky wondered if he could stand to live his final days in such distress.

The telephone rang. It echoed in the empty autopsy lab. It snapped Ducky out of his negative thoughts.

XXX

Ziva and Abby organized a dinner at a restaurant which was not overly expensive on the night of Ducky's birthday. Team Gibbs had just solved a particularly nasty case so there was extra celebration, especially by Tony, whose theory 'it's always the wife' had proven true.

Ducky watched the people around him celebrate: Abby was taking photos, Ziva was laughing with Tony, and McGee was having an awkward conversation with Palmer. How could he have forgotten his birthday? The question lingered in his mind, popping up whenever he had a spare moment. Like before in Autopsy, his mind jumped to the worst conclusion; would he end up like his mother? Ducky wondered how many more birthdays he would have, and for how many of those he would be lucid during any celebrations the team would try to organize.

"Duck," Gibbs said, causing Ducky to snap out of his thoughts. "You ok?"

"I forgot my birthday; Ziva reminded me a few days ago." Ducky said. Gibbs nodded but remained silent. "Forgetfulness is a sign of dementia."

"Duck," Gibbs said with a disapproving look. "You just forgot your birthday; you're fine."

"Jethro, I appreciate your trying to cheer me up but I am seeing a doctor next week to be sure," Ducky whispered. A nagging voice in his head had kept telling him that he did not forget things, and had caused him to call a friend he had who tested people for degenerative brain diseases of the elderly, just to be sure. He had to know.

"Fine," Gibbs said gruffly and with a grunt, "but even if you do, shouldn't you enjoy the time you've got left?"

Ducky heard what his friend was saying. He had no idea how long he had left, both in the physical sense and mentally. Why was he worrying? He did not know what tomorrow held, and tonight he should just enjoy his friends. If Ziva kept drinking as she appeared to be, she would be mixing up her languages, and he would have fun with that. Abby was getting tipsy too and hugging everyone; and the boys were laughing and joking along too.

Ziva butchered an idiom, Tony corrected her, and Ducky jumped in with a story.

Later, as he watched the team around him polish off dessert, he made a resolution

for the next year; he would live for today, whatever happened.

A/N: Heartundone I'm sorry your birthday fic turned out so sad.