Author's Note: This a scene from Ducky's POV, detailing the time mentioned in "Seadog" when Ducky pushed a French police officer off of a cliff.
Warnings: Spoilers for "Seadog"
Other: I am in no way saying that real French people would behave like this. I have nothing against the French, and all views given in this piece are the views of the characters' and not my own. Just thought I'd better say that. :)
"You absolute idiot!" I stormed out from behind the Frenchman's car, fuming. Who trained these people nowadays? I'm a medical examiner, but even I know that if you disturb a body the crime scene becomes compromised.
"Duck! Hey, Duck!"
I looked back, pausing half way through my climb up the grassy hill that leads to the body, as well as a very long cliff drop. "What is it, Jethro?"
"What have you done to the local LEOs? I found one back there…" Jethro indicated down the hill. "He was almost in tears."
In any other time and place I would have smirked at that, just as Jethro was doing now, but this was neither the time nor the place for frivolities, as I made clear with my next words. "That… officer is a disgrace to his uniform, Jethro!"
Jethro's smile slowly faded, and he glanced back down at the car. "Messed with your crime scene, huh?"
"Yes." I nodded. "I mean…" I started to walk again, hauling myself up the last ten metres or so. "Look at this." I indicated the body, laid on its back, arms and legs splayed.
Jethro crouched down. "Looks to me like he tried to administer CPR, Duck."
I was about to reply when another voice spoke from behind us. "Yes, that was what I was doing."
The owner of the voice appeared alongside me and I realised with disgust that this was the officer I had spoken with earlier. "You think you can use that as an excuse, do you? You think you can tell me 'oh, I was trying to save his life', and everything will be all right, will it?"
I could tell he was struggling to understand my rambled English, and was about to fault him on that as well when he replied. "I try to save him. What is wrong with this?" He glanced at Jethro, who was still crouched next to the body, looking on with barely contained amusement.
"What's wrong!? What's wrong is that he was quite obviously dead long before you found him. You told Special Agent Gibbs that…" I held out my hand behind me and found a small notebook placed in it, which I opened. "That the man had 'no pulse', 'heart beat', or 'any other signs of life'. So what…" I shoved the notebook back at Jethro. "What made it seem like a good idea to disturb my crime scene, tamper with evidence, and not call me at once?" I took a step towards the officer.
"Well, sir, I thought it best if man was dead before calling."
"Did nothing I say just get through?" I was onto full blown shouting by this time, and the officer looked quite scared as I took another step forward, and prodded him in the chest.
"I check he dead first, sir."
"Arh!" The incompetence was unbelievable. Never in all my years as a medical examiner had I ever encountered such stupidity and total disregard for the important rules, the rules that, if broken, could potentially stop us from finding a murderer. I was so angry I steeped forward and shoved this impertinent officer away from me. I was barely able to register Jethro's shouting. "Careful, Duck!" before something grabbed me by the collar and hauled me backwards.
I turned to Jethro. "What? It's not like I pushed him…" Jethro pointed. "…hard."
I could now see the edge of the cliff. Too close for comfort, even after Jethro had pulled me away from it. It was certainly too close for comfort for the officer.
Jethro turned to me, accusing, just as I began to think of some excuses I might be able to use. "What was that, Duck? What if he couldn't swim?"
"Oh, Jethro." I turned, making my way back past the body. "This is France. You should know they can all swim here."
