The odd part was, Ducky and Susan seemed to have all the same friends, and yet had never met. Joanna and David Stewart were old acquaintances from many shared medical conferences. As if their friends had done it deliberately….

"SueAnn, this is Donald Mallard. Ducky, this is Susan Burke."

Susan smiled somewhat shyly. "I'm very glad to meet you, Dr. Mallard," she said simply.

Ducky, please, my dear. All my friends call me Ducky."

She nodded with a shy smile, accepting the implied friendship. "Ducky."

He felt himself grinning broadly. Jordan had refused to call him Ducky, feeling it was somehow undignified. Susan was wearing a deep red evening dress that matched her black hair and emerald eyes perfectly. It was all simply, but elegant in a way that most woman were not anymore. Ducky found himself looking forward to getting to know her better.

Dinner was perfect. Susan seemed to be a little nervous at first, but when she realized that Ducky was not going to insist on anything more than light conversation, she seemed to relax.

Donald Mallard had a boyish smile that warmed her right to her toes. And witty! With a self-depreciating laugh, he had stopped a tale about a safari to Africa with his mother years ago as he noticed his friend's eyes glazing over. "I do have a tendency to jabber on a wee bit," he chuckled over his scotch, neat. She had laughed outright at this, sure that his story would have been anything but boring. She hadn't laughed like that in a long time.

While she wasn't what Mr. Dinozzo would call gorgeous, Susan had an old-fashioned air of wisdom and wit about her with a splash of sarcasm that he found very attractive. Her dazzling emerald eyes made him homesick. This was a woman he wouldn't mind having a drink or two with, he thought, and then sitting with long into the night, talking about anything that came to mind. He had always loved having conversation with women: men seemed somehow always ready to start a fight. His friendship with Jethro was a rare one.

The violins struck up another song a little louder, calling couples to the floor. Susan gazed over at them.

"Would you care to dance, my dear?" Ducky asked.

Susan almost swallowed her tongue. Daniel had always thought dancing a bit silly. With her friends nodding encouragement, she let Ducky guide her to the dance floor.

Susan's slight 5"2' frame usually required her to crane her neck if she ever wanted to look someone in the eye. Ducky, at 5"7' was a short man, but not horribly so; they seemed to be made for dancing partners.

They stayed on the dance floor for more than an hour, captivated by the music and each other. Conversation seemed unnecessary.

Ducky noticed their party start to shift slightly at the table. It was getting late, but he had no desire to part from this woman yet. He had no desire to ever part from her, but that was hardly appropriate conversation yet. He led her back to the table silently.

"May I drive you home, my dear?" Ducky tried to mask the eagerness in his voice.

Susan looked over at Avery, who nodded with a not-so-subtle grin. She looked at Ducky and said softly, "I'd like that."

As he got into the driver's seat of his Morgan, after opening the door for Susan, he said as casually as he could, "I know this wonderful old pub close by. Would you care for a drink?"

Conversation went on long into the night. They spoke of Ducky's years of medical training, and Susan's work on poisons around the world.

"Might I ask why Avery called you SueAnn, but introduced you as Susan?" Ducky asked gently. Since she hadn't mentioned it during dinner, he thought it might be something too private to share on a first date. "I don't mean to pry…"

Her cheeks turned a slight pink. "Most people feel that I am too formal, as if…as if I'm always wearing a mask, she said, looking aside. "My full name is Susan Antonia, so Avery came up with SueAnn at university. And no one ever mentioned it to Daniel." She bowed her head and let a tear slip past as she talked about Daniel and his betrayal. They had met right after she had finished her PhD. She had begun to suspect that she was not ever going to get married, yet Daniel had been so insistent. He had managed to make her feel special, if a bit isolated from her friends, for over twenty years. "I'll never understand what I did to make it all go wrong," she said sadly.

Ducky lifted her chin gently. "Sometimes, my dear, it just goes wrong." He finally broached Afghanistan. He had been accused of war crimes, but discovered he had been set up to commit crimes that could be used against him later.

Tears swam in his eyes as he told the tale quietly, and all Susan could do was clasp his hand. No, she realized. She had no monopoly on pain.

She took his arm easily as he led her to her front door. "Now, my dear, we will have to coordinate our schedules," he began as they reached the steps. My "family" at NCIS will not let me keep you anonymous for long."

"Would you want to? Sometimes one wants to keep things for themselves," she offered.

Ducky looked down into her eyes, and saw the moon reflected there. How beautiful, he thought to himself.

"While I very much want to keep you for myself, my dear, I have no intention of keep you out of any part of my life."

He leaned over her lips and covered them with his. His hand went to her hair, dark and soft. His tongue wet her lips, and she opened to him, allowing him to explore her mouth. She tasted of orchards and soft leaves. This is what heaven is like, Ducky thought.

She made a small cry in the back of her throat. All her life she had waited to be kissed this way. He was gentle, but his firmness spoke louder of his true feelings than any words. He was passionate, held tightly in check by breeding and kindness.

She saw the desire in his eyes as he pulled away. "Goodnight, my dear," he said simply.

"Goodnight, Ducky," Susan said softly.

NCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCISNCIS

The autopsy was exhausting. Ducky had had very few cases over the years where there had been so little learned after hours of pulling, tearing, and weighing. He had given Abby tissue and blood samples, but a thorough toxicology analysis would not be finished for days.

Gibbs walked into the autopsy lab with a cup of coffee. "Anything, Duck?" He looked straight at Ducky, and his attitude changed from business to concerned friendship. "Duck, you look terrible. Are you alright? Sit down for a sec."

Ducky stripped off his gloves as he sat down heavily. "I'm afraid I've been worrying myself to a frazzle, Jethro," he said with a sigh. "It would seem that every woman I've dated recently, with the exception of Jordan, has managed to turn up as a suspect in a crime. I'm sure Susan had nothing to do with this, but I have to admit to being concerned."

"Of course you are, Duck, that's normal." Gibbs said directly. "Did you come up with anything?"

Ducky shook his head. "Only that the cause of death was due to coronary infarction. But why a 30 year old otherwise healthy female has a heart attack is not evident. Oh, there is one thing, though."

The doctor walked over to the body. "Here, on her arm. A rash that I almost missed from the amount of bruising around it. The bruises are probably caused by her fall, but the rash looks to be contact dermatitis. I've sent scrapings of this skin to Abby for analysis, but if my theory is correct, and she was poisoned, I suspect that it entered her skin here."

"Good work, Duck." Gibbs said. "Now we have good reason to suspect murder."