Chapter 4

It didn't take long for the William O'Connor to be loaded up into the back of Ducky's van for the drive back to autopsy. Kate joined Ducky and Palmer in the front, while McGee rode in the back, trying not to think about the fact that he was sharing the vicinity with a corpse. Agent Gibbs insisted – Ok, ordered – that he and Tony drove back in the car alone. Tim couldn't think why but he wasn't going to argue with Agent Gibbs.

Perhaps the lead agent wanted to know more about the earlier conversation between him and Tony. The younger agent still felt a little guilty about what he had said but, to be fair, he hadn't KNOWN that Tony was dormant. In fact, he had never met a dormant before, even during his teen years or at both colleges he had attended.

In the seemingly five minutes that he had known him, Tony seemed so confident about anything he said and did that Tim had been damn sure that the SFA was just waiting for a prime opportunity to show off his enhancement, perhaps hoping to rub it in Tim's face.

Turns out he was wrong. Tim sighed. Perhaps he should try and take Rule 8 to heart more.

Glancing up at the body of William O'Connor, Tim frowned. 'I wonder what your enhancement was,' he thought to himself. 'That's assuming that you weren't dormant as well.' He suddenly paused and laughed to himself before muttering, "there's that word again...assuming."

God, it seemed that he had a lot to learn if he wanted to achieve his dream of being a field agent.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Meanwhile, in the agency car, Tony was gazing out of the window at the rapidly passing scenery, resting his cheek on his hand. He couldn't help but flash back to what Tim had said to him earlier.

"Surely being active would be more beneficial for this agency."

Tony sighed; it wasn't like he hadn't heard stuff like that before. There were plenty of people at NCIS who had made it pretty clear that the SFA didn't deserve his position within the agency. At least Tim had said what he did out of confusion rather than malice, though that didn't make it hurt any less.

The agent sighed against the window, allowing the glass to fog up, and began absent-mindedly drawing images with his finger.

"McGee doesn't know what he's talking about," he muttered quietly to himself.

"No, he doesn't," Gibbs spoke from the driver's seat, not taking his eyes off the road ahead of them. "But you know that already. McGee's relatively new to this, but he'll learn, just like Kate did when she started."

Tony smiled to himself as he turned to face Jethro. It had taken a while for the ex-Secret Service Agent to get use to the fact that her immediate superior was dormant. Now though, Tony had to admit, the two of them worked well together, even if they did occasionally have elbow jabbing vs PDA nosing moments.

"Hey Jethro, what's Tim's enhancement?" Tony asked. "Has he told you?"

"No, he hasn't told me," Jethro replied, "But I know anyway." He tapped his ear, indicating exactly how he knew. "He can teleport."

"Teleportation? Really?" Tony thought for a second. "That wasn't what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?" Jethro inquired.

Tony shrugged, "I don't know. I've only just met the guy and I can still tell that he's a bit of a...geek. I guess I was expecting something to do with electronics or computers. How old was he?"

"He was ten if I remember what he said to Kate," Jethro replied. "It activated after he was almost hit by a car."

Tony's eyes widened. "Wow, lucky kid." He Sighed and turned back to the window murmuring, "I'm never going to get my enhancement, am I?"

Jethro took his hand off the wheel and squeezed Tony's knee. "Anthony, you have to be patient, I keep telling you that."

"I'm thirty-two-years-old Jethro, how much more patient do I have to be?" Tony said. "I've worked in dangerous environments before; I've been shot, stabbed, beaten up...and nothing! What more do I have to do?"

The car was approaching a red light and, much to Tony's surprise, Gibbs actually obeyed it. As the car came to a stop, Jethro leaned over and lightly kissed his partner on the corner of the mouth. "I bet that when you activate your enhancement will be one of the best, and will be well worth the wait."

Tony turned back and gazed at Gibbs with emotion-filled eyes. "You really think so, Jethro?" he hazard.

Gibbs smiled as the light changed to green. "I know so, you'll be unstoppable. You know what they say, Tony?"

"No, what?"

"Good things come to those who wait."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

When the autopsy van arrived back at the Navy Yard, Tim jumped out and then helped Ducky and Jimmy remove the body, while Kate said she would head up to the Bullpen. They wheeled William through the back of the building and into autopsy.

"Thank you for your assistance gentlemen," Ducky said. "Timothy, why don't you go upstairs and meet with Caitlin?" He gave the younger agent directions to the Bullpen.

Timothy thanked the Medical Examiner and headed towards the elevator that would take him up to the Bullpen.

Watching him leave, Ducky turned to Jimmy. "Would you fetch my tools Mr Palmer? I believe we have an autopsy to perform."

"Right away, Doctor Mallard," Jimmy replied and raced (literally) away, leaving several papers scattered over the floor in his wake.

Ducky sighed and rubbed his temple as Jimmy raced back, carrying the autopsy supplies. "Mr Palmer," he sighed, "How many times have I told you not to demonstrate your excessive speed in autopsy?"

Jimmy flushed slightly as he took in the mess he had left behind. "I'm sorry Doctor Mallard, I'll pick them up right away."

"Please make sure you do so at a normal pace," Ducky ordered.

After Jimmy had tidied up the papers, he joined Ducky at the autopsy table. The elder man was cataloguing any scars or marks that William had collected over the years of his life.

"Victim has the Mark of Enhancement on his shoulder," Ducky reported, pausing as he waited for Palmer to write the information down. "There's also a six inch scar underneath his right wrist."

After he had finished cataloguing any scars and marks, Ducky took William O'Connor's fingerprints to keep on record before moving to study the victim's skull.

"The bullet appears to be a through and through," Ducky commented. "It exited out of the base of the skull, leaving significant bone and tissue damage. In comparison, the entrance wound is much cleaner, though there is an imprint of the gun barrel as well as ring of gunshot residue."

He paused and turned to his assistant whose right hand was blur of motion as he wrote. "Are you getting all of this, Mr Palmer?"

Jimmy Palmer stopped and glanced up. "Yes, Doctor Mallard," he replied.

"Very good, my lad," the elder man complimented. "Now then, let us get some measurements and a sample of this GSR down to Abby, perhaps she will be able to tell us exactly which firearm was used to end this poor man's life. After that, I shall bring out my trusty scalpel."

"Right away, Doctor Mallard," Palmer rushed off to collect and prepare the samples for their Forensic Scientist.

As he did so, Ducky continued to take a look at their dead man, paying particular attention to his Mark of Enhancement.

"I remember receiving my enhancement very much so," the Examiner reminisced. "It was Thursdays, August 22nd 1940. The Battle of Britain was raging over the skies and I was a young lad of just seven-years-old. At exactly 2.30pm my mother and I were in the city one day when the air raid siren sounded. We were ushered into the nearest shelter and huddled together as the bombs blasted overhead."

Ducky closed his eyes as images of that day danced like a movie through his mind's eye: his mother's brand new dress covered in dust, a little red-headed girl crying after being separated from her parents, and the way the earth seemed to shake to its very foundations with every explosion outside the shelter.

Looking down William O'Connor, Ducky continued down memory lane with his singular, unresponsive audience.

"To take my mind off the events, I took a book that I had managed to purchase out of my satchel. 'Tarzan the Magnificent' it was called, by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Amongst the rumblings of the air raid I began to read, and as I did so detailed images began to paint themselves into me. It was as if Vincent Van Gogh himself was using my mind as a canvas. I could see Tarzan's jungle as clear as day and each and every word of the story embedded itself into me."

"And then what happened?" came a voice from behind him.

Ducky spun around to discover that Jimmy had returned from taking the samples to Abby.

"Mr Palmer, please do not sneak up on me like that," Ducky reprimanded, "I am not as young as I once was."

"Sorry, Doctor Mallard," Palmer apologised, "Please continue."

"Very well. By the time it was safe to come out again, I had managed to read almost half of the book. As my mother and I walked back home, avoiding the rubble that had been left in the raid's wake, I began to tell my mother all about what I had read. Much to my surprise – and my mother's as well, come to think of it – I found that I had memorised the entire half of the story that I had read word for word. It was like I could see each and every phrase and paragraph when I closed my eyes."

"What did your Mom say?" Palmer asked.

"She asked me how many times I had read the book, and when I told her that this was the very first time she looked at me with surprise at first, before simply stating, "It's happened."

Ducky paused and chuckled slightly.

"What are you laughing at?" Palmer looked at his mentor, perplexed.

"I merely find it oddly amusing that my mother will not remember any of this conversation due to her Alzheimers, despite how important that day was to me, but it will be with me until the day I die."

"Do you enjoy having such a good memory?" Palmer wanted to know.

Ducky smiled and shrugged. "If the memories are good ones, yes. But I have lived a long life, Mr Palmer, some of it not so great, so there are memories that I wish I could seal up in a box and throw away the key. Alas, I can not"

"What memories are they?"

Before Ducky could answer, the phone rang. He picked it up and spoke briefly, explaining to the person on the other end that he hadn't finished the autopsy yet, before sighing and replacing the receiver.

"That was Jethro. He and Anthony have arrived back and our esteemed leader shall be down for a report post-haste."

He gently squeezed William O'Connor's cold shoulder. "We will find out what happened to you my lad, I promise. Jethro is one of the best Agents out there. I should know, because I remember every single one of his cases. He – and his team – won't let you down."