What Mrs. Mallard Said --4
Author: GataChica
Rating: M
Spoilers: Untouchable
Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.
Abby had to make full use of her ability to compartmentalize once she arrived in her lab. She knew she mustn't let her mind wander, even though she wanted to.
Ducky had made the same decision, but the situation did throw him off to the point that he hardly recalled any anecdotes that day.
"Uh, Dr. Mallard, is anything wrong?" Jimmy asked finally.
"No, not at all," Ducky replied, looking up absently. He didn't realize he had a very telling smile on his face. "Why do you ask, Mr. Palmer?"
Jimmy wasn't sure how to answer or even if he should answer. When Ducky looked at him inquiringly, he haltingly said, "Um… you're not telling stories today. And, uh, you are smiling quite a bit. More than usual, I mean."
"My smiling is hardly indicative of something wrong," Ducky pointed out. "Quite the contrary, actually." He finished extracting the bullet from the body on the table. "I'm taking this to Abby. Mr. Palmer, continue with the internal exam and be ready to tell me your findings when I return."
Jimmy gulped. "Yes, doctor."
When Ducky walked into Abby's lab, he was surprised to hear big band music coming from her CD player. Abby herself was twirling from one machine to another, the skirt of her dress flying as she checked for results. On the third twirl she caught sight of him. "Ducky!" she cried, enveloping him in something more than a bear hug but not noticeably inappropriate. Her next move, however, was – she kissed him firmly but affectionately.
"I don't think this is the best place, my love," he whispered when they broke the kiss.
"I just can't wait, Ducky," she told him with a smile. "I really want to be alone with you."
He groaned inside, thinking of how utterly irresistible she was. "Abby, this is the bullet that killed our lieutenant. I expect you'll be able to work your magic on it and produce important evidence."
She beamed. "Thank you for your confidence, Ducky. I will do my best; the sooner we can get out of here, the better." She wrapped her arms around him, but was stopped by a sound from the doorway. They looked up to see Gibbs standing there, his expression rather disapproving.
"What've you got for me, Abbs?" Gibbs asked.
"I've got a bullet which Ducky just brought me," she stated, moving towards her desk. Ducky took that opportunity to leave the lab quietly. "I haven't had a chance to examine it yet."
"Yes, I could see that," Gibbs muttered under his breath.
She heard him, but chose to ignore it. "As far as the blood, it's definitely the lieutenant's. None belongs to anyone else. However –" she stopped to put a picture of a hair on the plasma screen, "There is this hair, which is longer than and a different color from the lieutenant's hair."
"DNA?"
She nodded. "There are only a few cells left, but I think it will be enough for a DNA determination."
"Good work, Abbs." He hesitated for a moment, then leaned over and kissed her forehead. "You're still my favorite," he assured her with a smile. Then he was gone.
Abby's mind was swirling and she felt a bit faint. She knew it was because of Gibbs, but she also knew she had made her choice. With a sigh, she turned back to examine the bullet under the microscope.
Late that evening, Gibbs sent everyone home because they had reached an impasse in the case and he wasn't sure of the best way to proceed. He knew that time away from NCIS would help his agents as well as himself to recover. The next day they would return with fresh minds and, hopefully, fresh insights.
Abby dawdled as she shut down her machines and straightened the lab. She was incredibly nervous; it had been a very long time since she was this nervous about a "date." But even though no words had been spoken about it, she knew she would go home with Ducky that night. For that reason, she had brought an overnight bag along with her picnic basket.
Finally she had done everything possible – some things twice – and Ducky had not appeared, so she gathered her belongings and went to autopsy to find him.
Ducky was nervous, too, and it was that anxiety which had kept him from going to the lab any sooner. He had finally resorted to a glass of scotch to settle his nerves, and he was almost finished drinking it when Abby entered. "Hi, Ducky!" she said cheerfully, walking across the room to perch on the edge of his desk.
"Hello, my lotus blossom," he said, taking her right hand to kiss it. Abby shivered – it was not a sensation she had felt very often – and when he turned her hand over to kiss the palm, she leaned towards him to claim a kiss on her lips. With her arms around his neck and his around her waist, they continued kissing and lost track of time. When they finally moved apart, the clock showed that 20 minutes had passed. They kept eye contact for a little longer, then Abby gathered her bags. "We can leave my car here," she suggested, somewhat tentatively.
He nodded, as if they had already decided it. "I'll be ready in just a moment, my dear."
Abby could not stop smiling.
When they arrived at the Mallard residence, Mrs. Mallard scolded "Donald" for being late, then as soon as she saw Abby, she fussed because he had brought home a guest.
"Donald, you should ask before you bring home strange people," she said. "You've forgotten your manners!"
"Mother, Abby is not a strange person. You met her just yesterday, remember?"
"Hi, Mrs. Mallard," Abby said a bit shyly. She held up Bert. "Remember my hippo?"
The older woman peered at Abby intensely, then something seemed to click. "Oh yes! He's delightful!" She took Bert from Abby and began squeezing him repeatedly.
Ducky shook his head and rolled his eyes, but when he looked at Abby she was grinning. "Luckily she didn't remember anything else," Abby said.
"Indeed. Would you like to help me prepare dinner, my love?"
"Sure, Ducky, I'd love to. What are we having?"
"I put a stew on before I left this morning."
"Oh that's what that wonderful smell is!" Abby inhaled deeply. "If it tastes half as good as it smells, then you're the best cook I know."
He flushed a bit as he led Abby into the kitchen. "Would you like an apron?"
She smiled, thinking 'I've never worn an apron in my life. But there is a first time for everything.' Aloud, she said, "Thanks, Ducky." She wrapped the apron around her waist, then pulled the ties back around to the front and made a bow.
Mrs. Mallard went to bed soon after dinner, and Ducky and Abby put the dishes in the dishwasher. They didn't say much, but it wasn't necessary. Smiles and loving gazes said all that needed to be said.
Eventually they were sitting together on the couch, sipping brandy. The alcohol gave Abby a warm glowing feeling, with almost total relaxation. She yawned twice in a row.
"My dear, you must be very tired. Let me show you to your room." He was surprised when he saw that she was troubled. "What is it, Abigail?"
She bit her lower lip, trying to decide how to say it. Finally she just blurted out what she was thinking. "I want to sleep in your bed, Ducky. I want you to hold me, and I will hold you. Is that alright?"
He pulled her closer, until she was almost sitting on his lap. "Yes, I'd like that very much," he murmured, laying her head against his shoulder.
Abby thought that she had never felt more loved in all her life.
When they went to Ducky's room to get ready, she suddenly felt modest. She wasn't sure if the nightclothes she brought would be appropriate in his bed – not yet, anyway. She asked him for a T-shirt, hoping he would have something long enough for her to look decent. Fortunately, he did, and he allowed her to go first in the bathroom.
When she came out, wearing his shirt and her hair falling loose around her shoulders, he could not believe how gorgeous she was. As he passed her, he touched one of her cheeks and held it there for a moment. She responded in kind. Letting go was very difficult for both of them.
When Ducky came out, Abby was already in bed, most of her tucked under the covers. "C'mere, Dr. Mallard," she said softly. He quickly switched off the light and joined her. He could feel her warmth near him, and held out one arm invitingly.
With a contented sigh, she moved closer, her arms going around his neck and her head resting on his shoulder. "Ah, my sweet," Ducky murmured, "I'm very glad I have lived long enough to lie with you this way."
"Me too," she said sleepily.
"Good night, Abby," he said, kissing her.
"Good night, Ducky." Her breathing soon became smooth and even, telling him that she was asleep. But he knew sleep would not come so easily to him that night.