Winter Solstice - Ducky

"Death is a fascinating thing," says Ducky, walking towards the corpse lying on the floor of the Rock Creek Park, with his faithful assistant, Jimmy Palmer.

"Why do you say that, Ducky?" McGee asks after taking another picture of the corpse.

"It is an equalizing factor. Old, young, brave, coward, we all die. There is always a moment set somewhere in our future that we must meet our Maker."

He kneels and points to the young petty officer whose probable cause of death was a javelin protruding from his chest.

"Look at this young man here." He studies the javelin, "I can assure you that this morning, when he woke up, he had no idea today was that day."

"Dust to dust, ashes to ashes," Buchanan quotes as she stares at the dead petty officer.

"Indeed, my dear," says Ducky as he sticks the liver probe on the corpse. "There's no truer line in the whole Bible than that."

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

After a long working day in NCIS, Ducky was sitting silently before his fireplace in his home when he hears a knock on the door. He frowns, but leaves his comfortable warm spot by the fire to check who could possibly at that time of night at his door.

He glances through the small window beside the door, and immediately recognizes the shivering figure outside his door. He opens the door immediately.

"Hello, my dear, please hurry inside, or the warm air will escape."

The female figure enters the warm house, and soon starts unpacking the several layers of clothing that cold winter night demanded one should wear. Finally a mocha colored face gazes softly at Ducky, as he puts her overcoat, coat, gloves, scarf and earmuffs on the coat rack, and turns to her, offering gallantly his arm for her.

"Would you like a cup of tea to warm up from this chill?"

"I would like it very much, Ducky," says Joy smiling as she puts her hand on the fold of his arm, and follows him into the warm living room.

He uses his late mother's china cups to serve delicious fragrant English tea, and soon both adults are silently sipping their teacups before a roaring fire.

"To what I owe the pleasure of your visit, my dear Joy?"

He glances lightly at the plastic envelop on her hand, on the standard size and color of a well known medical lab downtown.

"I would like to make a consultation," Joy says softly, gazing into the fire and sipping her tea, before glancing at Ducky, who leans forward on his love seat to pour more fragrant tea on his own teacup. He offers a refill to her, and she gladly accepts it.

"How can I help you?"

Joy turns to the roaring fire again, and takes a minute before she starts speaking again.

"As the attending doctor for the team, you are aware of my… health conditions."

Ducky nods silently, not willing to interrupt her.

"I've been doing check ups yearly to verify the current status of my endometriosis, since I underwent surgery a couple of years ago to remove a chocolate cyst that ruptured during a workday at the BAU office."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. You almost died with hemorrhagic shock, according to your medical file."

"Yes, and they also had to remove one of my ovaries, which was too damaged to be left inside of me."

"I see. What do you want me to do?"

Joy looks at Ducky, and offers the closed envelope of the laboratory to him.

"These are the results of my last yearly checkup. I would like you to take a look at them, and give me your sincere and candid opinion of my general health," she pronounces the sentences slowly; measuring each word as if they have the utmost importance to what she wants to say.

Ducky takes the envelope and lays it over his legs, which are bouncing a little in a nervous tick. He taps his fingers on top of it, considering his options.

"Why this sudden concern about your health?" he finally asks what's nagging his mind.

Joy takes another sip of her fragrant tea, and stares again at the fireplace.

"McGee and I sat down to talk … about the future. About choices." She sighs, staring into the clear water of her tea. "We both agree that we have very demanding jobs, but we're not willing to let that interfere with our … plans." She looks at Ducky, who is looking at her with kind eyes. "We both want kids one day. And we want to absolutely sure that … the natural way won't happen before we take the plunge of applying for adoption."

"It won't be easy," mutters Ducky.

"No, it won't. We both lead dangerous lives, with demanding jobs and we're totally workaholics. Not good adoptive parent material. One of us might have to abdicate their career to even be accepted into the waiting list. But we might tackle this matter differently."

"How?"

Joy smiles faintly at Ducky, who finally sees some animation on her face.

"You are aware that my family has successfully adopted older children into their folds. We… we don't need a baby. There are so many children in the foster system, just forgotten because they are too old, too this, too that. Too traumatized…" Joy stops for a moment, as her voice becomes just a whisper, "with too many scars to count… they are just there, waiting and praying for someone to choose them."

Joy runs a finger over the rim of the delicate china and whispers, "We want to create not only a home, but a shelter to these kids, so they may heal…" she looks at Ducky "the same way my parents healed me."

Ducky smiles at the young woman, "That's a very worthy cause." She chuckles, and he continues, "And I understand your yearning for a family on your own. And I admire your decision on adopting troubled children, if that's what both you and McGee agreed. However, I can't help it but feel sad about the great loss for the team and NCIS when one of you decide to forsake your career. Either one would be a terrible loss."

She nods and finishes her tea, putting the delicate china cup on the beautiful oak center table in Ducky's living room.

"It push comes to shove, I'll retire. McGee still has much to offer to the agency, and he still has a lot to learn and teach the younger generations of agents. I'm tired, Ducky, of waddling in filthy and psychotic minds. And Gideon always said that… it's time to leave the job … if you can't remember why you are doing it anymore."

Ducky leans towards her and stretches his hand, and Joy stretches her own, and smiles teary at the old Scot as he squeezes her hand gently before the roaring fire.

"I don't want to do like Gideon, who left only after everything and everyone he ever loved was butchered and destroyed by his job. And he left without saying goodbye to anyone because he couldn't face his pain mirrored in their faces. I don't want that to happen to me."

Ducky stays in silence for a moment, and Joy respects his need of introspection. Sometimes, even someone who is a master of words and witty knowledge has to stop and breathe deeply before his ideas are ready to be transformed into words. Finally Ducky nods, and looks at Buchanan.

"In the longest night of the year, in the darkest hour of the night, we are reminded that regardless of how helpless a situation might seem to be, the human soul, despite its weaknesses and apparent frailty, is a very resilient thing. It will climb the highest mountain, cross the widest seas, as long as it still has hope. Hope is a powerful stimulant, giving strength to weakened limbs, and a new breath of life to a dying soul. Don't ever give up hope, my dear Joy. Ever."

Joy stares at Ducky with tears in her eyes and nods, at the same time some escape leaving silver paths on her tanned skin, which reflect the orange light of the fire.

"I won't."

"Miracles might still happen."

"I know. It's just…"

"Just what?"

"In my line of work, you learn to believe in miracles. But you also learn not to depend on them."

a/n: Please check my next story on the Joy Buchanan series, in the crossover section with Criminal: The I in the FBI. Finally we will get a glimpse of why Joy has those scars on her back.

Reviews are always welcome.