April 10
My joy in friends, those sacred people, is my consolation. – Ralph Waldo Emerson
The day was cold and miserable, while he was running out of elbow room after a series of deaths. His assistant was ill, leaving him to do the extra work himself.
And yet Ducky was not dismayed by this turn of events. It had something to do with the people he had run into today.
He had barely stepped off the elevator into the squad room when he had encountered McGee. The young man had smiled and politely asked him how he was. They had ended up having a delightful conversation about the weather before Tony had arrived.
Tony had cracked a few jokes, making him smile, before the ex-cop started teasing McGee. Ducky had left the two men to it and went to see Abigail.
The Goth had tugged him into a bone-crushing hug, while babbling about how happy she was to see him. Her happiness had warmed his heart. Abigail could make anything better.
Ziva had appeared shortly after, bringing a sample for the forensic scientist to analyze. The Israeli had given him a cheerful smile as she had passed.
When he finally arrived in Autopsy, he had been surprised to see the lights already on. While the tables were all full, Jennifer was busy fixing him a pot of tea. He had been touched by her gesture, and she had offered to try to find him another assistant for the day. He had declined, content to work alone for once.
He had been elbow-deep in his second body when Jethro had stuck his nose around the door to check up on him. They had discussed Tony's latest antics before the Agent had left.
Tired though he was, he knew he could continue because the love of his friends lifted him up.