What Mrs. Mallard Said -- 9
Author: GataChica
Rating: M/FR18
Warnings: sexual situations
Spoilers: Untouchable
Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.
Abby awakened the following morning with a smile on her lips and a sigh of contentment. Memories of the night before flooded her thoughts. After they made love for the first time and both enjoyed a short nap, Ducky had cooked dinner for them. The rest of the evening was spent watching old black and white movies on the couch with Abby lying in Ducky's arms. When the last movie was over, they went to bed and fell asleep with Abby's head pillowed on Ducky's shoulder and his arms wrapped protectively around her.
The feeling was so wonderful, she didn't want to move out of Ducky's embrace, but unfortunately her bladder was rather insistent. Gently moving his arm, she inched her way off the bed and went quietly into the master bathroom.
When she returned, he appeared to be asleep, but his eyes opened when she had almost reached the bed. "My dear Abby," he murmured, holding his arms out for her. "You can't know how happy you have made this old man."
She lay beside him, something about his old-fashioned but sincere expressions of love – so different from what she had heard in past relationships – bringing tears to her eyes, and for several minutes she said nothing, merely held him close.
Presently he could hear her sniffing. "Abby?" he asked, concerned. "Are you all right? You're not crying are you?"
She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "Not really crying," she answered, "just a few tears. No one has ever treated me the way you do before."
"Well then, my love, you have been shortchanged. I have noticed that young men today do not know how to behave properly towards the women they love."
She smiled. "Probably true, Ducky. Not that they aren't sincere, but they just haven't the knowledge or the skills, apparently. Or maybe it is just you, Duckman."
He felt a bit flustered and tried to hide it with a kiss to her forehead. "Do you still want to see your surprise?" he asked, changing the subject as he held her just a bit closer.
"Oh, yes, of course! I had completely forgotten. I hope you don't take that the wrong way."
"Au contraire, my dear. I consider it the highest compliment." He brushed an errant lock of hair from her face and smoothed it down with the rest of the hair at her temple. "I'm actually surprised you didn't notice it yesterday."
"Yesterday?" she asked, puzzled. "But why would I – you mean –" She broke into a grin. "You didn't! You did? Where?"
His charmingly lopsided smile made her want to promise herself to him forever. But that fugitive thought was interrupted when he admitted, "On my ass, of course."
"Oooh, let me see!" she squealed. He turned away from her and pointed to his left cheek; she pulled aside his boxers to find the small heart that said "Abby" in the middle, printed permanently in indelible ink. Suddenly the tears were back – she knew what this meant to him. "Oh, Ducky –" He turned back towards her and the rest of her remark was smothered as he kissed her passionately, suddenly feeling much younger than his years.
"My God, Abby," he murmured when they paused to take a breath.
"Yes," she whispered, her cheeks flushed.
"Yes what, my dear?"
"Just yes," she sighed, hugging him tightly. "Just yes."
They held each other for a long time, occasionally kissing, then Ducky remembered the package from Ziva. "Abby, what do you think is in Ziva's package?" he asked curiously.
She giggled a little. "I'm not exactly sure, but I think I know its purpose. You want me to open it?"
"Certainly!" He almost wished he was not curious when she climbed out of bed, however, because he instantly missed her warmth.
She sat on the edge of the bed, ripping away the wrapping paper and taking the lid off the box. Inside, surrounded by tissue paper, was a silky black corset decorated with red skulls and the word "Abby" embroidered on the left side of the bra.
"Oh, my," Ducky breathed. "How lovely! It will be even lovelier with you in it, though. Will you model it for me?"
She laughed with delight. "Of course, Ducky. I may need your help, though – it's a lace up."
He raised one eyebrow. "Indeed. But how can you be sure I won't be tempted to un-lace it instead?"
"I'm not sure, but either way it doesn't matter," she grinned. "Let's try it and see!"
A/N: This is a short chapter – next we'll get back to Gibbs' feelings of jealousy.
