Chapter 12: Jimmy Palmer
When I pulled into the NCIS headquarters, I was relatively calmer then I was when I was being accused of breaking Kyle Boone out of jail. It wasn't all that much to be proud of, but I hadn't destroyed anything in my angry rampage… yet, at least. Upon entering the building, I flashed my identification card to the officer at the front desk and stepped into the elevator that lead to autopsy.
"I would love to know what on Earth is so wrong with this country's legal system to where an officer of the law can be unjustly accused for crime in which she did not commit!" I ranted as I entered Autopsy. "Well, it looks like you just met the FBI," a voice came from the far corner of the room. I took up a fighting stance in the direction the voice came from, only to come face to face with a man dressed in light blue scrubs, cleaning medical equipment.
"Who are you and what have you done with my Uncle?" I barked. His head tilted slightly to the side in confusion, before a look of recognition swept over his facial features. "Oh my gosh, you must be Madison," he sputtered as her set down the scalpel he had been polishing and discarded his medical gloves. "I'm Dr Mallard's assistant I'm actually surprised that this is the first that I'm seeing of you, cause you've been here for what? The past five days?" I nodded my head, backed out of my defensive stance, and shook his extended hand. "I'm Jimmy, by the way," he said as he looked into my eyes.
As I stared back into his deep, pale green eyes, my previous anger towards the FBI faded into a distant memory, and I forgot, for a moment, what I was doing in Autopsy in the first place. In the recesses of my numbing mind, I noticed his head slowly leaning downs towards mine, as my chin tilted up to allow my lips to brush against his in a gentle embrace. Then, just as my lids were about to close and our lips were about to touch, the unmistakable drone of my Uncle's voice awoke, me from my haze and sent me and Jimmy jumping apart like oppositely charged magnets put head to head.
"Oh, Madison, looks like you've met Mr Palmer," Uncle Ducky said casually as he took off his hat and coat. "So, Dr Mallard, how was your dinner?" Jimmy asked from back across the room where he was now, once again, sterilizing the medical equipment, just like he was when I had first entered Autopsy. I stood there, mouth agape, as the two conversed about Uncle Ducky's dinner with his lady friend, Dr Katrina Martin of the Bethesda neural surgeon's division of DC. I started to wonder if I had just imagined the entire event between Jimmy and I, I mean, I wouldn't put it past myself, I had been know to hallucinate on occasions where I hadn't had enough sleep, or when I had too much caffeine, but those circumstance didn't have anything to do with my current situation. I continued my contemplations until Uncle Ducky took notice to my spacing and said something. "Um, I'm sorry Uncle Ducky, but I didn't catch that," I rubbed at the back of my neck – a nervous tick of mine. He shook his head in his typical disapproving manor before repeating what he had said. "I asked why you were so flustered, you don't have a fever or something, do you?" "No, Uncle Ducky, I don't have a fever, I was just worked up over the complete idiocy that is the FBI," I replied, finally remembering my reason for descending upon Autopsy in the first place.
I was just about done cooling off from my rant when Gibbs and Fornell entered the room. "Madison, a word please," Agent Fornell requested. I looked between Fornell's 'I-really-don't-want-to-be-here' expression and Gibbs' mischievous twinkling eyes, before deeming it safe to approach the FBI agent. I walked over to him and stood in a passive aggressive stance with my arms folded loosely under my chest, "you wanted something, Agent Fornell?" "On behalf of the FBI… I would like to apologize for our previous… aggressions… towards you. And now that we know who you are… we look forward to working with you in the future." I don't think that a single word that came out of his mouth wasn't forced. I nodded my head and watched as Gibbs escorted him out. By the time the doors shut behind them, I was clutching my sides, unable to hold in my laughter anymore. When Uncle Ducky and Jimmy started shooting me worried glances, however, I composed myself and gave them, what I deemed to be, an appropriate explanation. "I'm sorry," I said, "but watching a fully grown man apologize so unwillingly is simply hilarious in my opinion."
"Oh, well, carry on then," said Uncle Ducky, "oh, darn it all, I forgot my notes in the van again. Madison, would you be a dear and go get them for me, please?" "Of course, Uncle Ducky," I said as I walked out to the elevator. The doors were almost shut when I heard someone call to hold the elevator. I caught the door just before it closed to reveal none other than Jimmy Palmer. " Thanks," he breathed out as he stepped in next to me. I decided it was now-or-never if I ever wanted to find out what had happened when I first entered Autopsy. I flipped the switch to stop the elevator and turned to face him. "Listen, Jimmy," I said, avoiding eye contact as much as possible, "when I first came into Autopsy, earlier this evening, did you try to –" I was cut off as he captured my lips with his own in a gentle embrace.
When we pulled away, I was left breathless. Jimmy, then, leaned over me and flipped the elevator switch back on. I starred at my reflection in the mirrored door until the elevator opened and Jimmy walked out and across the hall to Abby's lab. My fingers found their way up to my lips, where the soft tissue still held the electric current that was given to them moments ago. I then shook my head clear of its previous romanticisms and pushed the button for the parking garage, to do the job that Uncle Ducky had sent me down to do in the first place.
Once I found the autopsy van, I unlocked it with the key Uncle Ducky had given me, grabbed his notes from the front seat, relocked the van, and proceeded back to Autopsy, where I found a certain ME's assistant and no sign of said ME. "Where'd Uncle Ducky run off to now?" Jimmy jumped slightly at the sound of my voice, and turned to see who had spooked him. "Oh, it's only you," he said with a sigh, "Dr Mallard's up with Abby, discussing some links from the Jacob Boone case to some other serial murders around the DC area." I nodded and set Uncle Ducky's notes down on his desk, before sitting down on the unused autopsy table closest to where Jimmy was cleaning the medical supplies. "So, Jimmy," I started, trying a last attempt to find out why he had kissed me. "Before you ask," he interrupted, as he looked at me over his shoulder, "I don't know why I kissed you." He was now facing me, clean medical supplies discarded on the towel next to the sink. My eyes widened slightly at his bold statement. "B-b-but—" I spluttered. "Let me finish," Jimmy said as he took two long strides towards me, quickly closed the gap between us. "I said I don't know why I kissed you," he cupped my face in his hand, "but when I did, I felt an unparalleled electricity between us and I would like to feel it again if you'd let me." That wasn't necessarily the answer I had been looking for, but at least I knew that he had felt the electricity too. In response to his request, I slowly lifted up my chin and brushed our lips together. The electricity was back and spread like wild fire to where his other hand now rested on my waist, just above my hip. I felt my hands developing minds of their own as they wound their way up and around to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.
Moments after we broke apart, breathing hard, I had only one thought in my mind as I starred back into his sea green eyes: I had just met Jimmy Palmer, and I was already falling fast.