Hey guys….
I really suck at updating, I know. Anyways, here's part three: the funeral. Well, actually, just the events before the funeral. I tried writing the actual ceremony, but I was never satisfied. So, here we are! Hope you enjoy.
Diclaimer: I own no part of NCIS, including any characters mentioned in the following story.
x.x.x.x.x
He never was very good at tying ties. Maybe that was the reason he hated wearing the ridiculous things (other than the fact they felt like nooses). He knew the Half-Winsor knot, which had to be the most common of all the knots. Ducky had once given him a whole lecture of different types of knots. There was a Windsor, Double Winsor, Hanover, Balthus, Saint Andrew, Nicky, and many others. According to Ducky, tie-knots were a subtle art form. Bowtie-knots were an entirely different subject matter. Gibbs smiled sadly at his slightly cooked tie. Perhaps he should have asked Ducky to show him a few simple knots.
He straightened his black tie, the only one he owned, and checked to make sure the rest of his black suit was presentable. The last time he had pulled this suit out of the closet he had hoped it would be a long time before it would have to be seen again. Gibbs sighed and grabbed the last few things he needed from his night stand: keys, wallet, and badge. With a heavy heart he clipped his badge to his jacket pocket, the worn leather and metal shining somberly.
"Stop admiring yourself and get going," a gravelly voice permeated the room behind him.
Gibbs smirked and threw a look over his shoulder. "I've got plenty of time."
"Is that so?" Mike Franks deadpanned. He leaned back against the door frame and rolled his eyes. "I'm not so sure your team would appreciate you being late. Again."
Gibbs' playful expression darkened. "That was different," he growled as he turned back to his reflection.
"You're right, it was," Franks admitted. "But why haven't you seen the similarity yet?"
"Believe me, I have," Gibbs sighed. "I lost another one, Mike. I'm not sure how many more I can take." His eyes slid shut as the images of those he lost ran through his mind. "No matter what I do, it's never enough."
"Good God, Probie, stop wallowing in your own self-pity!" Franks growled. "That's not what I was talking bout, and I know you're not stupid enough to not know what I meant! None of us, not a single one of our deaths, was your fault. Not Kate's, not mine, not any of the others. And there ain't no way in hell you can claim blame for this one either!"
"I was there!" Gibbs hissed. "I should have known what was going on and done something!"
A ghost of a hand ran across the back of his head. "No, there wasn't. Take your own advice you gave the kid and pull your head out of your ass! This time, there's no one to blame. If anything, blame Ducky." Gibbs stiffened and rounded on his old mentor. "Oh, don't get your panties in a twist! He was a doctor: he was perfectly aware that something like this could have happened. Isn't it his fault for not doing something to prevent it?"
Gibbs glared. "No. There was no way he could have known."
Franks gave him a leveled look. "Exactly, and neither could you." He shook his head at Gibbs. "Keep that in mind. Now git!"
Gibbs turned his back on Franks. He walked out of his bedroom, not giving the empty room a second glance.
.-.-.
It shouldn't have been a surprise, really. They had all heard the stories Ducky told. They all heard about the many lives he had touched. Nonetheless, Team Gibbs was slightly shocked at the number of people present at the church. As expected, many NCIS agents were present, seated amongst the crowd. Some of the faces Gibbs thought he vaguely remembered from his European escapades. A handful of men, approximately Ducky's age, were dressed in various military uniforms: some American, some English. The rest of the crowd was unrecognizable, but the expression on every face was one of somber mourning.
A few benches at the front had been reserved for the team. Gibbs, having met Tony, Abby, Tim, and Ziva at the front entrance, slowly led his team up the aisle. Occasionally one of them would pause to talk to someone, both new and old faces. Eventually they reached their places, where another surprise was waiting them.
The Palmers were already sitting in the very front row, but they weren't alone. Breena was sitting on one side of Jimmy, holding onto his hand in support. On the other side of the ME's Assistant was a young man, appearing to be a few years younger than either of the Palmers. He and Jimmy were deep in conversation, and it wasn't until Breena tapped her husband's shoulder that they noticed the newest arrivals.
"Agent Gibbs!" Jimmy and his wife stood to greet the team, they young man beside them doing the same. "Guys! It's… I'm glad you all made it."
"Of course we made it!" Abby cried, giving Jimmy a tight hug before turning to grab Breena. "How are you feeling?" Abby asked as she pulled back, peering at the young blonde. "Morning sickness? Cravings? Mood swings?"
Breena laughed. "Just the first. I'm not far enough along to get any of the others yet."
"Poor Gremlin," Tony said with a grin. "I bet he can't wait for those stages to hit!" Ziva elbowed the Italian in the stomach.
"Play nice," she warned.
Gibbs said nothing, but he did quirk an eyebrow at the brunette man now standing awkwardly behind the Palmers. Jimmy noticed his look, and glanced over his shoulder. "Oh! Introductions! Right." He stepped aside to make room for the other man, motioning for him to step forwards. "Guys, meet Coll Pottinger. He's Doctor Mallard's… um…" He gave the brunette an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. What did you say the connection was?"
Coll laughed. "It's alright, it's a bit confusing," he said in a light Scottish accent. "Uncle Don's mother and my grandfather were siblings. I suppose that would have made him my father's cousin, but because of the age difference, he became "uncle"." He shrugged and swiped his shaggy hair out of his hazel eyes. "I guess the name just stuck, and he became something like my great uncle."
A black blur rushed through the group and latched onto the surprised Scotsman. "Oh my goodness, it's so great to meet you! It's nice to meet someone from Ducky's family! Not that we aren't his family too, but, you're like, blood family! Did you come all the way from Scotland just to come to the funeral? That's so sweet! Although, it kinda sucks that we had to meet like this. Oh! You should stay for a while and we can all go to dinner and get to know each other because if you're Ducky's family that means you're our family too and-"
"Abby, let him breath!" Tim said as he tried to pull the Goth off Coll. The rest of the team chuckled at the young man's stunned expression.
"Well, you just met Hurricane Abby Scuito," Tony explained. He stepped forwards and offered his hand to Coll. "I'm Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. You can call me Tony. This is Agent Ziva David. You can call her Ziver and this is Agent Timothy McGee. You can him McGeek." Tony reached up to rubbed the back of his head, soothing the place where Gibbs smacked him. "And *that* is Special Agent Gibbs. Thank you, Boss."
Coll finally shook himself from his stupor and smiled at the group. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. It's nice to put faces to the people Uncle Don told me so much about. He, and Jimmy here, had nothing but good things to say about you." He gave them a smaller, much more solemn smile. "Perhaps I will take you up on your offer of dinner. After all this, it would be nice to get to know the people Uncle thought of highly enough to call his family."
His statement seemed to remind the group of where they were, and why they were there. With a more subdued air, they arranged themselves on the benches and waited for the ceremony to begin.
x.x.x.x.x
So, we meet Coll. In Season 9 Ducky mentions a Nephew in Scotland, but since he never mentions any siblings, I thought I would tweak their relation slightly.
So… Comments? Questions? Concerns? I love hearing from you guys! Hopefully it won't be months before I post again.
