A/N: Okay, so I know I'm two weeks overdue, and I'm terribly sorry for that.

Actually, I had the next chap ready before I left for my holiday… but when I came back, it suddenly crossed my mind that I had to insert this one first. The problem being that it wasn't written yet and I sort of had a minor writer's block. Must have been all the Florida and Bahamian sun and all the palm trees and Margaritas.

It's finished now, however, as you can see, and I thank you guys for you patience! I hope you enjoy!!

Promises

"You know", Ducky says as he walks into Gibbs' living room three weeks later, "I think I may truthfully say that this is the first time that I am not finding you in your basement, working on your boat, Jethro."

"Oh please, Ducky, don't encourage him. We've already been through that discussion twice tonight, and I'm running out of threats."

Ducky stops halfway between the door and the couch, his brow in fine creases. "Threats?" he repeats. "Well, did you try reasoning?"

At this, Jenny just laughs and turns her attention back to her coffee cup. Somehow, Ducky can imagine just why she doesn't seem to consider his suggestion worthy of a reply. There simply are a few things where reason is wasted with Gibbs.

The ME smiles and looks over to where his friend is half sitting, half lying on the couch. He still looks a little pale and very tired, and if Ducky had had his way, he wouldn't be out of Bethesda already. But naturally, that was another of those things where reasoning had gotten him nowhere, and maybe it is just as well.

The traces – the bandages, the tiredness and the pallor – will go away in time, along with the invisible traces the whole experience has left on the rest of the team.

Another few weeks, and everything will be back to normal.

Another few weeks, Ducky thinks with a quiet chuckle, and this peaceable behaviour will be gone again, too. For he suspects strongly that it rather were said tiredness, and probably pain killers, that account for most of Jenny's success with her threats, much more than her persuasiveness.

"It wasn't meant as an encouragement at all, by the way", Ducky says after a moment, addressing Gibbs, "I do hope you realize that."

"Sure."

Jenny drains the last bit of her coffee and gets to her feet. "I'll fetch you a cup, Ducky, and then I'm off. I've got a long and boring meeting coming up tomorrow morning."

There's a hint of annoyance in her voice, and Gibbs says: "I warned you about that job of yours, you know", and after a moment he adds, quite unrelated: "Get Ducky Bourbon. I don't think he's as fond of coffee at ten at night."

"Very true", the doctor confirms, giving Jenny a playful wink as he takes a seat opposite of Gibbs. "Especially since that one time when I was forced to drink cup after cup with a Armenian pathologist in Istanbul in my last year at the Medical School of Edinburgh."

Gibbs smiles and rests his chin in one hand.

"I'd gone there to do some research for my dissertation, you see, and spent hours on end in the library of the University of Istanbul. It was close to unbearably hot in Turkey at that time, and I kept falling asleep over my books in that stifling climate. That isn't to say I did not love the library, however. The whole university is a wonderful building, in a wonderful city, really. It wasn't a long way from the university to the Hagia Sofia, you see, and –"

Ducky's flow of narration is disturbed by Jenny reappearing with his glass of Bourbon and the bottle that she deposits on the table.

She caught mere bits and pieces of the story while she was in the kitchen, and now, handing the ME his drink, she throws Gibbs a half questioning, half amused look, obviously wondering how the conversation turned from the boat in the basement to the Hagia Sofia in such a short interval of time.

All Gibbs could say to that, however, is that it's just Ducky's endless web of associations that could most likely take him three times around the world in the span of an hour, so the agent just shrugs and goes on drinking his coffee.

"Thank you, Jennifer", Ducky says upon accepting his drink from her, and in his best Shakespearean British accent: "Much obliged."

Jenny smiles and picks up her bag from a chair. "Good night, boys", she says, already on her way towards the door. "I see you tomorrow, Dr. Mallard. And you keep away from that boat, Jethro."

"Good night, Jen", Gibbs just replies, watching her vanish through the door. There's a faint rustle as she takes her coat from the rack and puts it on, then the sound of the front door closing.

"How's the team?" Gibbs asks after a brief silence, a silence short enough to not give Ducky time to launch back into his recounting of his student days in Istanbul.

The doctor smiles and takes a sip of his Bourbon. "They're doing fine. Young Anthony has gotten himself into a bit of a frenzy to get everything sorted before you come back to work, but aside from that they do their job as fine as ever and are generally in good humour." Another sip. "I daresay the Director told you all of that already, though."

Gibbs just gives a confirmative mhm and replies: "Always double check."

Ducky chuckles. "Of course." He pauses, a faint frown of mild confusion spreading over his face. "We weren't speaking of that before Jennifer left, though, were we?"

Gibbs sighs inwardly and shakes his head. "No, I think you were intending to say something about Turkish coffee, Duck. Initially. But I'm sure that's not why you came by."

Obviously, this strikes some chord. If he didn't know better, Gibbs would almost have said something in his friend tensed at that remark, and he doesn't know why.

Ducky puts his glass away and slowly shakes his head. "No", he replies, "no, that isn't why." He is silent for a while, as if that already was all that could be said about the matter.

"For one", he goes on eventually, "I just wanted to check on you. I also promised Abby I would, that was the only way she would let herself be talked into not keeping you up all night herself with God knows what she said she wanted to tell you."

Gibbs has to smile, thinking of Abby. It's probably some band she listens to at the moment or a new tattoo or some event she went to. He's got no idea why she keeps telling him those things, after all it's just as if he would keep telling her all the details of building a boat. She doesn't really have a mind for it and he doesn't really have one for her things.

But it's not as if he minds. Not at all.

"And then", Ducky continues, bringing Gibbs back from his train of thought, "I also was hoping we could talk."

Those few words sound every bit as tense as Ducky himself appeared just moments ago. He almost seems to be a bit uneasy, something that Gibbs hasn't experienced in him for years. Or maybe never before.

Sure, Ducky gets angry sometimes, he is occasionally uncertain and there are situations he doesn't like or things he isn't too keen on saying.

But he never had any reason to be uneasy with Gibbs. So what made him now, all of a sudden?

"Okay", the agent says quietly, "go ahead."

From the turn the conversation has taken, Gibbs would have expected at least a little talking around whatever was the issue, phrases like Well, it's like this or Look, I've been thinking…

But he doesn't get any of that. Instead, Ducky peers down into his drink for a split second, as though he had crib floating there on the surface of the amber liquid, and then he just says: "I told the doctors in Bethesda to switch off the machines."

The fact behind the words takes a moment to register with Gibbs.

Well, whatever he was expecting this to be about, it certainly wasn't that.

He sets down his coffee mug, as if that might help to get the thoughts Ducky's statement set off into some kind of order.

It doesn't, of course.

As for Ducky, he has no idea whatsoever how Gibbs will react to this.

The initial silence doesn't surprise him, though. His confession came pretty much out of the blue, maybe not the best way to go about a subject as this, but then he just could for nothing come up with an introduction that wouldn't have sounded dramatic or just plain silly.

And to be honest, he rather had it like this. All that beating around the bush usually results in nothing but confusion, misunderstandings and having to voice the problem thrice in the end, so that it's finally clear.

He rather had it plain and unmistakable. He only wishes the words wouldn't hang in the air like this, resounding somehow, although in reality, of course, they don't.

To Ducky, Gibbs' face it as unreadable as ever.

Ducky knows him well, probably as well as anyone can know a person like Gibbs. Most of the time, he can gauge, even predict his reactions. Sometimes he can't, but he mainly dismisses those cases as exceptions to the rule, and it would be quite scary, actually, if they weren't there.

He sees when Gibbs is about to get too deeply involved in a case, so he never gets angry when, next time he comes into autopsy, his friend is too impatient and unreasonable.

When one of the team tell Ducky they screwed something up, aren't sure about something or think they've done well, he can almost always tell them if, in Gibbs' eyes, they're right.

He knew it was over each time before Gibbs even mentioned the word divorce.

He can read the invisible sings.

But this is not some horrible case or a suspect the team lost track of, and it's not another marriage. And there is no way whatsoever for Ducky to guess what Gibbs is thinking about what he just said.

It's a novelty, thank God it is. Ducky wouldn't care for experience in that field, and he certainly won't stow this one away for future reference. Once it's all talked over, he will try and forget about it because there will be nothing to do about it anymore.

What he won't be able to just brush away, however, is the change all of this will cause.

A friendship certainly has to change through an episode as this one, doesn't it? He remembers rows, with Gibbs and other friends, really severe arguments that seemed fundamental at the time, and still did not leave a trace in the end.

But this, a decision over life and death, a matter of unconditional trust and of loyalty too, must certainly change something.

The question is what that change will be, and that is what Ducky can for nothing guess and never had a clue about, and it's what made him so uneasy about the whole thing.

Eleven years of friendship are worth something, after all.

Gibbs' reply takes him as much by surprise as his confession did with his friend before.

"Why didn't they do it?"

The answer comes pretty much of its own accord, Ducky just cannot think of anything but plain facts right now.

"It was pure luck. Timing, you might say. Your test results improved just after I had made the decision."

Gibbs nods slowly.

Okay. Well. He closes his eyes for a short moment and takes a deep breath.

"So, Doctor?" he asks again, his voice quiet and very calm. Irrationally calm, considering that he's just been told it's due to nearly impossible luck, perfect coincidence, a one-in-a-million chance that he's still alive.

And again, Ducky finds it more than hard to guess in the slightest how his friend is feeling about it.

"So", the ME continues slowly, "I have found myself thinking a lot about one thing lately, and that is that you would be dead now because of my decision, if it hadn't been for the others-"

Gibbs frowns. "The others?"

"Yes, well." He makes a vague gesture. "The team. They insisted for quite a while that I wait, and I have to admit I couldn't really bring myself to refuse them." A pause and then, smiling: "Young Abigail came up with disconcerting threats, such as not talking to me ever again if I did anything."

His chuckling fades, he's watching Gibbs closely. The agent doesn't smile, Ducky can't even be entirely sure whether he's been really heard.

He doesn't look angry, though, his eyes are fixed on something in the room, on the opposite wall presumably, something that most likely isn't there.

"The truth is, Jethro", Ducky goes on, unwilling to bear with silence now, and suddenly tired, wanting to finally get it all out and over and done with, "that if I had chosen to ignore your team because I am the medic and I'm supposed to act professionally and they were acting solely on emotions, then I would have agreed with Dr. Morris when he said he didn't think you would ever wake up again for the first time, and that was three weeks into your coma." His voice trails and he takes a sip of his bourbon, not quite sure why.

"And now", he says after a moment, voice a little lower and somehow sounding a bit spent, "I don't quite know what I am trying to apologize for: Breaking my promise, or keeping it." He shrugs, as though to emphasize his helplessness. "Doing nothing for such a long time although there was little doubt from the medical point of view, and thus acting against what we'd agreed on … what I had promised you to do. Or actually deciding to … let you go in the end. And keep the promise."

Gibbs' eyes have flicked back to his halfway through this – what was it? An apology, or not – and now he's watching his friend, perfectly surprised by the whole thing.

He never wasted too many thoughts on wondering what the rest of the team would do if anything ever happened to him.

They are all agents, professionals, and trained to do their job on their own. They know the risks and are often enough reminded that things can go wrong.

But here's Ducky telling him that it was all a big deal and that their obviously cared a lot more than he would have thought them to.

And suddenly he just thinks what the hell? Everything's alright, so what is all of this about?

"You've been wasting a lot of thoughts on ifs lately, Doctor."

Ducky has to laugh, despite himself. "If you had any idea how many sentences were begun with if around the bullpen lately, you wouldn't be surprised. A newly acquired habit, I would almost say."

Gibbs shakes his head. "If doesn't count, Ducky."

The other cannot quite suppress a sigh. He knows what Gibbs it driving at, of course, but that doesn't make it any easier.

You would think situations like this – what they had since October – shouldn't be that complicated. On the contrary – life and death are simple things, of their nature unambiguous. So are promises, so is guilt.

It was clear what had happened, it was clear why, and medical tests, repeated countless times with unchanging results, speak a clear language.

It all should have been clear.

Thinking that, you would apparently be altogether wrong. It wasn't and isn't simple and it isn't clear and certainly anything but easy.

As if he could guess what his friend was thinking, Gibbs went on: "Listen, Duck. We're friends. No one ever said the decision had to be easy, I've seen enough to know it isn't. And I know I wouldn't have wanted to let you go after three weeks." He pauses for a moment, then adds with a quiet smile: "Besides, Abby can be damn threatening if she chooses to."

Ducky can't help agreeing. The trouble with Abby is that she's so adorable that you just don't ever want to make her angry. What is more, she rarely misses a chance to mention that she was the only person who could kill you without leaving the slightest trace. That made for an argument, of course.

"Yes", Ducky finally says, "you're right, Jethro, naturally. It isn't easy and it mustn't be. I am sitting here with you so I don't regret what I did. But this isn't about now, it is about a promise."

"No", Gibbs replies slowly, "this is about you not knowing what I think because you would have kept your promise."

Ducky doesn't say anything, but Gibbs knows he's right. It's just this uncertainty that brought Ducky here, because he needs to know. He would be ready to apologize, obviously, but primarily he just doesn't know how things stand.

Gibbs leans forward a bit and says: "Okay, now listen: There's nothing to apologize for. You decided there was no sense in waiting any longer and you acted on it. That's what I was hoping you'd do. That's what I mean when I say I trust you, Ducky.

And if anything like that ever happens again, I hope you'll take that decision again if you think it's the right thing to do."

"Yes, well", Ducky replies, waving his hand as if to brush the discussion away, but looking relieved now. Obviously he finally believes Gibbs. "Can we just agree anything like that will never happen again? That would spare us the whole trouble."

Gibbs chuckles while he fills up Ducky's glass. "So – I won't accept an apology because you won't offer one, alright?" He's silent for a moment, as though considering his next words.

"There is something else, though."

"And what is that?"

Gibbs hesitates briefly, but then he smiles. "Thank you."

Ducky smiles. "I won't say anytime", he replies, "and I won't say you're welcome either. I wouldn't want to end up with you taking either literally."

Gibbs laughs and shakes his head.

"How about – the same to you."

TBC