CHAPTER SEVEN

Gibbs fixed Ducky with the stare that made his team's knees tremble and could turn McGee into a stammering, inarticulate wreck in seconds. "What happened to absolute discretion, Duck?"

Ducky wasn't fazed. "I didn't say that I would tell him, I suggested you should. It might do you both good, you know. At the very least, you should apologize for your treatment of him earlier tonight, from what you've said".

He held up a hand to forestall Gibbs. "Yes, I know you always say it's a sign of weakness, but I can't believe you're really as rigid as you'd like us to think. On the other hand, though", he added thoughtfully, "you have been married three times".

"Ducky!" The edge to Gibbs' voice could have cut a diamond. Rising from the couch, he began to pace the room. He opened his mouth to start in, but Ducky cut him off, leaning back into the cushions and peering up at him.

"Afraid it would undermine your authority, Jethro? Spoil the Great Leader image?" He shook his head and reached for his glass. "I really fail to see how it would".

"You know I can't, Duck. It would … " Gibbs turned over in his mind what it might do. Coming back to his chair, he sat down and began to crack his knuckles, something he hadn't done for years.

"I know nothing of the sort", Ducky retorted. "What I do know is that Anthony would never take advantage of anything you might tell him in confidence. He's a decent man, Jethro, and a good agent, and right now he's hurting badly. Don't make it worse for him because it stirs up old memories for you. He deserves better than that".

Gibbs opened his mouth to bark a retort, but, "No!" Ducky held up a hand, "don't interrupt me. He'd scoff if I pointed it out, but Tony's a protector by nature. Like you, really. It's hit him hard that he couldn't keep Peter safe, and now he's got you on his back. What is it you think might happen if you opened up to him a bit? That he'd lose respect for you? He wouldn't, you know, he looks up to you far too much for that".

"Have you finished, Dr. Mallard?" Gibbs scowled at Ducky.

He'd always been one to bottle up his feelings. Talking about that earlier experience was not on his list of priorities.

And yet … he'd told Ducky. His flash of temper subsided as he thought about what his old friend had said and he picked up his glass and took a sip of Scotch, grateful for its spreading warmth.

Ducky's voice insinuated itself into the silence, silkily soft. "It all comes down, Jethro, to what kind of leader you want to be. You're a hard man. It's easy to stonewall, I saw it all too often during my own time with the military. I remember a British colonel who … but you don't want to hear about that now. All I'm saying is that sometimes real strength involves giving. It doesn't weaken a leader's authority, it strengthens it".

He thought for a moment. "It's like that boat you're always building. D'you think a hole would sink it, supposing you ever got it to float?" Ignoring Gibbs' snort, he went on, "No, you'd simply patch it up. I remember, when I was a boy in Scotland, we had a summer house on a loch …"

"Is this going anywhere, Ducky?" Gibbs interrupted, putting his glass down on the table none too gently and preparing to rise.

"Jethro! I do wish you'd let me finish a story for once, there's a good fellow. Besides, it's important. Do please get down off your high horse for a moment". Gibbs slumped back into his chair with an impatient exhalation.

"Yes, well, my brother and I had a canoe that we took out on the loch in fine weather". His eyes twinkled mischievously. "And sometimes not so fine weather too, if our parents were otherwise occupied. One day a storm blew up out of nowhere and we were forced to take shelter on a little island out in the middle of the loch, just a pile of rocks really. Our canoe was holed on the way in, but we got ourselves to the beach."

"The storm looked set to last for hours and neither Callum or I felt inclined to spend the night there. There wasn't any shelter, and our parents would have been worried sick – we'd sneaked out without telling them, you see. Besides, the wind was freezing. We looked around for something to mend the canoe, but there was nothing. In the end, we took Callum's boot and ripped out the seams with my pocket knife. That way, we thought, we could get home if one of us held the pieces over the hole".

Ducky smiled reminiscently. "He didn't want to, he loved those boots, they were his best old hiking boots and he'd worn them nearly through, but he gave them up in the end because he could see it was the only way to get back. Our hearts were in our mouths when we pushed off again, but in the end we made it back to shore and to safety".

A rueful grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "If you could call the reception we got from our parents 'safety', once their first relief was over. You'd never think it to look at her today, Jethro, but my mother was quite a terror in her time". He coughed. "Or perhaps you would. Anyway, the next day they had the canoe repaired and it was good as new for the rest of the summer".

"Very nice, Duck, and I'm glad you weren't both drowned. Now, if you've finished …"

"My point, Jethro, as I'm sure you can perfectly well see, is that something that's broken can be fixed. Boats can. People can, mostly. Trust can too. All it takes is willingness to give a little bit. In Callum's case, it was his boots. In yours …", he locked eyes with Gibbs, "well, only you can decide".

In the kitchen, the refrigerator motor kicked in, its quiet hum accentuating the silence. Then Ducky stood up.

"And now, be off with you, Jethro. I'll stay with Anthony tonight, Mother's away. If not, I'd have asked young McGee to stay with her". He winked at Gibbs. "I don't really think one could classify that as child abuse, could one?"

Gibbs stood too. He went to the door of Tony's bedroom and looked in. In the dim light from the living room lamps, he could just make out the dark head on the pillows.

Ducky came up beside him. "Think about what I've said", he said quietly. "Maybe you should trust him, it wouldn't be a bad move". He placed a gentle hand on Gibbs' arm. "Don't worry about him, he'll be fine in the morning. Physically, anyway. And remember - boats sail, Jethro, but not if they're full of holes".

"I'll leave him in your capable hands, then, Duck", Gibbs said, ignoring Ducky's last comment. He picked up his drink and tossed off what remained, then shrugged into his jacket. Ducky walked to the door with him. With a word of farewell to his friend, Gibbs headed out of the apartment and down to his waiting car.