A/N: I didn't mean for there to be so long of a delay in posting. Thanks to everyone who has alerted this story, and another thank you for all the reviews (and to the guest reviewers, too, who I cannot respond to).


"Was that Director Shepard?"

Jimmy and Ducky sat together on an iron bench below a giant oak tree, simultaneously appreciating the shade while avoiding the turmoil within the church. They'd been enjoying quiet conversation before the sound of rubber squealing against asphalt pulled their attention toward the parking lot. A navy sedan peeled out of the lot, flash of red hair and a white satin dress barely visible as the car sped past the two men.

A lone figure in a dark suit stood silently in the space previously occupied by the director's car before he, too, climbed into a dark vehicle and drove off in the opposite direction.

"I believe so, my lad," Ducky replied with a touch of curiosity. "I suppose she is off to find her wayward groom."

"No one knows where Agent Gibbs went?"

"It appears that way. I have no doubt that he will turn up eventually, Mr. Palmer."

"I suppose so," Jimmy nodded in agreement. "I've never been to a wedding quite like this before."

"And you still haven't," Ducky pointed out, "as the bride and groom never said their vows. No, I do believe that Jethro and Jenny will have to set a date for another ceremony."

"Another?" Jimmy shook his head. "I don't know if I can handle another wedding like this one. It was by far the weirdest."

"Oh come now, Mr. Palmer, this was hardly weird!" Ducky exclaimed, patting Jimmy's knee briefly before moving his hands around in a flourish as he told his tale. "I remember a wedding of a colleague of mine's that I attended, well, it must have been right before you were born. Only the newest and grandest would do for this fellow, and he was just arrogant enough to believe that a wedding officiated by a machine would be a wedding topped by no other."

"A… machine?" Jimmy questioned.

"Indeed. A vending machine, if I'm not mistaken. For one dollar, couples could be married by this device, voiced by the most emotionless, computerized voice I've ever come across. Can you imagine, Mr. Palmer, being given the option to either say 'I do' or 'escape'?" Ducky chuckled softly to himself. "Quite the technological marvel at the time, I assure you, and quite the sham."

"Were there a lot of people at this wedding?" Jimmy timidly asked.

"Oh no," Ducky shook his head. "For as much as this associate of mine liked to boast, he had very few friends of which to boast to. It was merely the bride and groom, myself and my beautiful date." Ducky trailed off, knowing he was treading dangerous ground recounting those times. But talking about those days came easily… he was so happy then, and the memories easily resurfaced.

"The couple had to have an official ceremony, of course, but by that time, my date and I were enjoying ourselves far too much to be bothered to attend. I heard later, of course, that they had to find two strangers to be their witnesses," Ducky finished with a laugh.

Ducky waited for a minute, but Jimmy did not join in with his laughter. He found that more than a bit odd… Jimmy, unlike many of his other colleagues, often humored him and his stories, occasionally even asking questions. At first, Ducky thought it was because Mr. Palmer wanted to appease his new boss. But eventually he come to see that the Jimmy was genuinely curious and interested in his stories, and Ducky saw the affections for what they were: a young man seeking a mentor and a friend.

And, he knew with a pang, that Jimmy's affections even went beyond that.

Turning toward his companion, Ducky was surprised to see a confused, and almost alarmed look, on Jimmy's face.

"Dr. Mallard…" Jimmy started, but he was unable to continue, only opening and closing his mouth silently like a fish out of water.

"What is it, young man?" Ducky asked, growing more alarmed. "Are you all right?"

Jimmy shook his head. "No, I don't think I am. I don't understand… I… my…"

Ducky smiled and tentatively put a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. Ever since he began to see the feelings that the younger man harbored toward him, he'd been a bit reluctant to initiate any physical contact between the two of them.

"Mr. Palmer?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Mallard, it's just that…" Jimmy swallowed hard before steeling himself. He sat up tall and looked Ducky in the eye. "It's just that my mom told me that same story when I was little. A few times, actually… it was one of her favorites."

Ducky's heart leapt up into his throat and he felt his pulse quicken, but he kept an outward appearance of calm. Not like this, he thought. He never imagined Jimmy finding out in such a manner. But he supposed he was the one to blame... he'd been bold enough to tell the tale.

"Oh?" Ducky asked, embarrassed at how his voice cracked.

"Yes," Jimmy said, his resolve growing. "How is it that she told me that same story if only the bride, groom and their two witnesses were present? I always just thought that her date was my dad... I mean, that wedding was 9 months before I was born. But, if you were there too... if it wasn't my dad, and you were there, then that would mean… that would… Dr. Mallard? I don't understand. What would that mean?"

Jimmy was becoming a bit unhinged, and Ducky sighed, closing his eyes only momentarily before fixing a reassuring gaze upon the younger man.

"Alright, calm down my lad," Ducky said with a sigh, gently wrapping a hand around Jimmy's arm and pulling them both up until they were standing. "Let us go to the reception, where I have been assured there is free alcohol."

"I'm not much of a drinker," Jimmy admitted.

"I know, dear boy, but I have another tale I wish to tell you. And at the end of it, you may want a drink."

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"What a day," Tim grumbled as he and Abby trudged up the stairs to their apartment. They had decided to forgo the reception, agreeing that the groom unexpectedly disappearing from his own wedding was hardly an occasion to celebrate. Both wished to avoid the awkwardness that was bound to hover over the entire event, so the decision to come home had been an easy one.

"Tell me about it," Abby said softly just behind him and Tim turned to look over his shoulder at his wife, who was dragging her feet up the stairs.

Tim stopped and reached out a supportive hand that Abby promptly swatted away. "Do you need help, Abs?"

"Oh please, the baby is the size of a kumquat right now. It's hardly giving me any trouble at the moment. Stop fussing, Tim."

Tim could tell that Abby's rant had come out a bit harsher than she intended, so he said nothing in reply. He slid the key in, swung the door open, and stepped aside to let Abby pass. Shutting the door behind him, bolting the lock, and turning around, Tim nearly ran into Abby's back. Why she hadn't continued on into the apartment was immediately apparent as Tim peered around her to find someone standing in the living room, face hidden in the shadows. Instinctively, Tim reached for his sidearm, only just remembering he was still in his tuxedo and his weapon was still locked in its safe.

"Looking for this?" the shadow spoke in familiar tones, and Tim gulped as he saw his weapon in the stranger's hands.

"What do you want?" Tim asked as he quickly stepped around Abby to stand between her and the intruder.

"When were you going to tell me?" the other man asked, and Tim furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Tell you what?" Tim demanded. He took a slow step backwards, trying to herd Abby back toward the apartment door. If he could only get her close enough, she'd have a chance to escape. Another step back and Tim promptly stepped on Abby's toes. Clearly she wasn't getting the hint.

The man in front of them took a small step forward, then another, until his face was finally illuminated by the front entrance light. Tim could not control the gasp that escaped his lips, and he felt Abby's shaking hand grab the back of his shirt.

"Wha… Who?" Tim stuttered, unable to process what he was seeing, suddenly feeling lightheaded and weak in the knees.

Standing before them was… him. It was Tim. Only, it wasn't Tim, because Tim was Tim. And this was… he didn't understand as possible scenarios, each as unlikely as the next, flashed before him. A mask? Some sort of cloning experiment conducted by the CIA? A shapeshifter, or some sort of changeling?

A shapeshifter, Tim? Really? He was beginning to question his sanity. (Clearly watching movies once a week with Tony was having far too much of an effect on him…)

"Hello Tim," the not-Tim said in Tim's voice. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Tim had lost his voice and it was becoming more apparent that Abby's hand was doing more to support him than her as he could no longer feel her trembling. Tim didn't want to risk a glance at her, hoping beyond hope that he could keep not-Tim's attention on himself rather than his wife.

"Who are you?" Tim asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" the other man asked with a sneer that seemed out of place on that face. "I'm you."

"That's enough," Abby called out, and she stepped up and alongside Tim, her hand sliding down from his back and into his hand. She gave it a tight squeeze and Tim finally looked down at her face and was surprised at what he saw there. Something he wouldn't expect from his over-reactive wife during a situation that found the two of them standing in front of an armed man… one who liked identical to her husband.

She was completely calm.

"Abigail," the man cooed, and his voice sent a shiver down Tim's spine. "You don't seem too surprised to see me."

"I'm not," she said quietly, and the other man nodded at her admission.

"How long have you known?"

"Awhile," she responded.

"And you said nothing?"

Abby didn't have an answer that time and she looked away. Tim watched the conversation in tense silence, still trying to convince himself that this wasn't all some sort of trick or dream.

"Abby," Tim whispered, unashamed of the fear that caused his voice to waver. "Abby, what's going on?"

For a moment it looked as though Abby was going to ignore him too, but as he gave her hand a small squeeze, she buckled. The tears came as quickly as the words, and Tim found it hard to follow along to her account… both because of her sobs, and because of the complete, utter insanity of what she was telling him. He found himself shaking his head in silent denial, pulling further and further away from his wife as she spoke. She wouldn't let go of his hand, however, gripping it so tightly as though her life depended on his touch.

"No," Tim croaked, then cleared his throat nearly yelled the second denial. "No!"

Tim shook his head, refusing to believe the absurd tale he'd just been told. Long lost twins? Impossible. But the fact that this man was standing here, looking at him with his own face, seemed to corroborate what Abby had said… but how? How? Tim was about to ask when another traitorous thought took hold. Abby… Abby!

"Abby?" Tim snapped out of his reverie and turned toward his wife. "You knew?"

She flinched at his tone, but nodded silently.

"You knew and you didn't tell me?" She nodded again, and Tim fumed. "Why? Why wouldn't you tell me something like this? Why would you keep this from me?"

"Oh Tim," she sobbed, finally letting go of his hand to cover her face with her hands. "I was just so confused!"

"Confused?" Tim roared. "Confused about what? I don't understand, Abby! What is there to be confused about? You find out that I have a… a…" Tim fumbled for a moment, unwilling to put a name to what he knew now to be true. "You find out about him and you don't tell me? Why?"

There was a look shared between Abby and not-Tim that was so brief that Tim almost missed it. But he saw it, and suddenly it all made sense. Horrible, treacherous, sickening sense and Tim had to swallow the bile that rose in his throat. Oh my God, he thought. No…

"You're in love with him," Tim said, and it was not a question, but Abby answered him anyway.

"Yes," she whispered. "But Tim, I love both of you!"

"How long have you known?" Tim asked, choosing to ignore her declaration of love.

"Ever since you were attacked by Jethro," she answered quietly. "You… you have scars that he doesn't."

Tim reeled from this information, raking unsteady hands through his hair. How was this his life? Hours before, he was basking in the knowledge that his life was good. He had a job he had always strived for. He had a wife he adored. Friends. Health. And above all of that, a baby on the way. He was going to be a father… a father that was nothing like his own.

But now… now his life had been turned upside down and he had no idea how to right it again.

The sound of his own weapon being cocked was enough to pull him away from his dark thoughts. If this turned out badly, he wouldn't have a life to correct at all.

"When were you going to tell me?" The gun never wavered as not-Tim glared at Abby. "If what you say is true, and you could tell the difference between Tim and me for a while now, you've deliberately kept your pregnancy from me. I want to know why."

"Because," Abby began shakily, her eyes darting between Tim and the intruder uncertainly. "Because I… I don't know…"

She could have stopped right there... she should have. Tim closed his eyes, trying to will Abby to stop talking. To keep the crushing news from being spoken. But it was not meant to be. The day that had started off so badly for Gibbs and Director Shepard had now spiraled entirely out of control. He wasn't sure he could stomach any further betrayals.

"I don't know who the father is."

This, apparently, was the wrong thing to say and not-Tim's lips curled as he leapt toward Abby. Tim, unable to see his wife hurt even after her confession of adultery, jumped forward and collided hard with the other man. They tumbled downward, Tim's head narrowly missing the coffee table, but bouncing off the hardwood floor with an audible thud. Tim could hear Abby's screaming beyond the ringing in his ears.

Not-Tim managed to roll, slamming Tim backward against the table's legs, sending books and various knick-knacks toppling down around them. Tim thrust himself upward, his head connecting solidly with not-Tim's face, and the gun was dropped with a grunt of surprise. Tim pushed upward, and the weight that had been holding him down listed slightly and Tim fought hard to break free.

Stumbling to his feet, Tim braced himself on the still-standing coffee table. He felt a warm trickle making its way down the back of his neck, but paid it no mind as he searched the floor for the discarded weapon. Taking his eyes off of not-Tim was a mistake as the man, clearly recovered from the blow to his nose, slammed into Tim's stomach and pushed him backward until his back slammed painfully into the wall. All the air rushed out of him and his arms flailed outward in an attempt to push his attacker away. Abby was still screaming, and Tim finally took a moment to glance up at his wife.

Abby stood in the middle of the living room, arms held out in front of her, precariously holding Tim's service weapon in both hands. Tim immediately stilled and not-Tim, sensing the change in his stance, turned to look over his shoulder as well.

For a moment, all was silent. Abby was shaking, but with rage or coursing adrenaline, Tim couldn't be sure. Her hair was as wild as her eyes, and Tim questioned whether or not she was entirely aware of what she was doing. Pushing away from Tim, the other man held his hands out to his side in what looked like an attempted peaceful gesture.

"Abby… baby…" he said, and Tim ground his teeth at the term of endearment. "C'mon, we can talk about this. You know I would never-"

Not-Tim didn't get to finish his sentence as Abby pulled the trigger. He went down in a crumpled heap at Tim's feet. Tim, breathing heavily, stepped forward slowly, raising his hand to take the gun away from Abby when the sound of a second discharge pulled him up short.

"Abby?" Tim gasped as he looked down at his chest and the red dot of blood slowly expanding down his rumpled white tuxedo shirt.

His legs gave out as he slid to the floor, Abby's whispered "What have I done?" echoing in his ears as he lost consciousness.

To be continued.

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**The AutoWed Wedding Machine does exist – housed in Marvin's Marvelous Mechanical Museum in Detroit, Michigan. It was invented/showcased in 2011, but for the purposes of this story, it had been invented many years prior.