Ducky Mallard, you are one tough bastard to write. But this is dedicated to you - you shined in tonight's episode.
This was going to be immediate team only, but what would you think about one from Fornell's perspective?
Leave your thoughts, I appreciate hearing what you are all thinking!
jae
Though he's well known for not allowing silence to settle, or to be one to let a conversation lag, Doctor Donald Mallard is quite able and willing to revel in the comfortable quiet of an empty Autopsy Lab. He was still working on their previous cases' final autopsy report when the MCRT had been called out earlier in the afternoon. Electing to stay back and finish his report, he had sent Jimmy Palmer solo, much to the surprise of the young man, but Ducky was confident that the he was more than able to examine the body of the naval officer on his own. Jimmy had come a long way in the past several years - more so during his absence while he was on sabbatical, recovering from his heart attack. And so Dr. Mallard had sent him off with a smile and wave of his hand, assuring him he was well equipped to handle the job on his own. He looked forward to a quiet afternoon to read over his work carefully, and additionally , it would allow him to finish his report just early enough to enjoy his weekly luncheon with Ziva. She herself had come to collect Jimmy, reassuring the older Doctor that they didn't anticipate being out in the field long, and promising with a smile that she would be back in time for tea and to share their lunch hour.
Their tea time had began and evolved with their relationship. The year Ziva David had sauntered into NCIS, and in effect, their lives indefinitely, the young Officer and older Doctor had taken to one another quite effortlessly. Bonding over their shared circumstances of knowing more than one home apart from America, they came together to swap stories and experiences, and to find comfort in their home away from home. Tea had been what brought them together that first afternoon, and so it became an integral part of their time together. They spent these afternoons conversing about anything and everything, though there were several topics Ziva would never broach; The circumstances that lead to her liaison with NCIS, the origin of her mother, and anything regarding her relationship with her partner that wasn't strictly work related. Though these tea times had occurred considerably more regularly than irregularly in the years they had known one another, they had increased in frequency; Until finally evolving into a weekly routine upon Ziva's return from Somalia, those three summers ago. While the team had embraced her with open arms and hearts, Ziva had been damaged far beyond what their compassion alone could mend. Ducky, who'd been the one trusted with Ziva's medical records and tasked to evaluate her, understood all too well the demons she'd be battling on her road to recovery. He knew not just the physical ramifications of that summer in Somalia, but the emotional and mental scarring she would suffer. Ducky had feared that first week that someone such as Ziva, as tough and defensive as she could be, but equally was just as much sensitive, would completely shut down upon being so completely vulnerable. But much to his relief, Ziva had seemed to have accepted the responsibility that he'd been given, and her trust in the Doctor had only strengthened, rather than crumble and weaken.
Shaking out the cramp that was beginning to form after nearly two hours of writing and finalizing his notes, Ducky sat back with a content sigh and glanced up at the clock above his desk. He was just wondering when to anticipate Ziva's arrival when the Israeli herself appeared. Ducky looked over as the familiar sound of the door alert and the woosh of the automatic doors echoed through the lab, and Ziva hobbled in, still donned in her field windbreaker. Clutching herself around her torso, she greets him with a weak smile while Ducky, oblivious, gets up and begins shuffling his papers into organized piles on his desk.
"Ziva, my dear," he greets her, his voice surprised. "I was just beginning to wonder when to expect you back. I'll need only a couple minutes to put away my work." With his back turned, she continues to hobble into the lab as he talks, focus still on the stacks of paper on his desk. She stops at the nearest autopsy table, grimacing as she leans her weight against the cool, metal slab.
"Actually Ducky, I think I may need to take a rain-check," Ziva replies, before hissing in pain as she tries to shrug off her windbreaker, but unsuccessfully. Ducky finally turns to face her formally, and his eyes widen in concern.
"My dear, what happened?" He paces over, and she drops her arm, hoping to quell the concern radiating from him. But the sharp pain that's been persisting for the better half of the last hour doubles without the applied pressure, and her face pinches in pain before she can cover it. Ziva opens her mouth to explain, but is interrupted by the arrival of her partner; Careening into the lab without grace, almost before the door slide away to allow him entrance.
"There you are!" The irritation in his tone compliments the exasperation on Tony DiNozzo's face, and he brings the phone dangling in his hands up to his ear as he strides toward them. Ducky looks between them, perplexed as Ziva's eyes roll heavenwards.
"Found her, boss. You were right." Tony halts when he's less than an arm's breath from Ziva, ending his call, then struggling to pocket it inside his own windbreaker's pocket. Finally shoving it in successfully, he rounds on his partner.
"Ziva, you need to go to the emergency room, not Ducky's lab." He groans, irritated, while Ducky moves between the two, ignoring them and pushing Ziva into a sitting position on top of the cool table, and he begins prodding gently where Ziva still clutches her ribs. In between winces, she shoots Tony a look that promises a snark response. Tony is saved from the impending verbal smack-down, however, when Ducky has the sense to interrupt them there.
"Would either of you care to tell me what transpired?"
Ziva shoots the Doctor an apologetic look.
"I had a bit of a run-down at the crime scene earlier, Ducky -"
"Run-in, Ziva." Tony interrupts, correcting her absently, "Turns out our now prime suspect stuck around the crime scene - decided to pick out Ziva to take down while our backs were turned." Tony shakes his head at their suspects' misjudgment. "Didn't realize he picked out the only ex-assassin in the group. Luckily, he only got as far as tackling her down the hill." Ducky imitates Tony, shaking his head solemnly.
"Poor fellow," Though his tone is devoid of any sympathy. Keeping a hand pressed into her rib, he looks up at Ziva. "Please tell me you did a number on him?"
Tony's face lights up.
"Yeah she did," his voice animated, "several numbers in fact, you should go see what's left of him in interrogation - " Ziva isn't prepared for Ducky's sharp prod into what she now assumes is definitely a fractured rib, and can't stop the mangled cry that comes out of her mouth. Tony cuts off, looking at her with renewed concerned, and her hand unconsciously grasps and tightens around the hand half extended toward her.
Ducky winces in apology.
"Sorry, my dear." He says, dropping his hand and stepping back. She shakes her head at him, dismissing his remorse, though her grasp remains tight on Tony's hand, knuckles white. Her partner doesn't seem concerned for his circulation, though, for his attention is rapt on Ziva's pained expression.
The doctor regards her regretfully.
"It appears you may have fractured a rib, Ziva." He tells her, tone business-like, "The best I can do for you is wrap them and send you away with a few strong painkillers, if that's what you'd prefer to do." She nods quickly.
"I would rather you take care of it," her voice remains even, but he hears the real double meaning in her tone. Ziva's entire medical history had been exposed to him, and while she had reached the point where she was comfortable with her body and the past scars that lingered, she still remained unwilling to be exposed to others that were unfamiliar with her history. He gives her a knowing look over his glasses as his suspicions for why she came here first are confirmed.
"That is fine, I have the material to wrap them here." She nods, biting her lip, before her fingers unclench from around her partner's and begin moving toward her jacket's zipper. Ducky turns around, in search of the medical wrap he will need, and Tony steps in front of Ziva, shooing her hands away at her feeble efforts of shrugging out of her jacket.
She makes an affronted noise, glaring at him reproachfully, and battles with his hands. Tony grabs her hands before she can do much damage, and returns her glare.
"Hey," his tone sharp, but he quickly drops his voice lower as Ducky glances around at the outburst. He smooths his thumbs over her palm to calm her, and her face softens. "Let me help?" he murmurs, looking down at her, eyes searching her face for permission this time.
Surrendering, Ziva nods, and he goes back to peeling off her jacket with careful hands. Ducky pauses, and it doesn't escape his notice that Tony's hands run down her arms a little too slowly, linger a little too long. He turns back to the drawer he's searching through when Ziva looks up, flushing red at Tony's smile.
Tony's grin lingers as the Doctor's back is turned. Her blush deepens as the fingers ghosting down her arm leave a trail of goosebumps, and she swats his hand away playfully when she hears Ducky shuffling back over to them.
Looking between them, he tries to think of the most delicate way to avoid any discomfort on Ziva's part. Ducky looks at her, holding up the bandaging, motioning that he's going to need her to...
"Okay, ninja," Tony says, and then grasps the hem of her blouse, freeing the shirt from pants, and begins to undo the buttons slowly. Ducky's eyebrows raise in surprise, but he says nothing. He looks to Ziva to see if she's okay with the invasion of space, but her face looks as calm as he's seen it. Tony frees the last button, pushing the shirt off her shoulders carefully, and helps her to rise and stand before him. Ducky observes the two, and is further surprised when she allows Tony to twirl her, having her back to both of the men, and notes the monumental amount of trust it must take her to do so.
And as Tony's gaze falls on the expanse of his partner's exposed back, Ducky waits anxiously, ready to cover whatever reaction Tony may have. But without batting an eye, DiNozzo reaches for the bandage wrap with a quick, "Thanks, Duck," and unravels it to wind around Ziva's abdomen, taking charge of bandaging his partner. Ziva remains still, her face betraying nothing except slight discomfort from the pain in her ribs. The older Doctor wonders how calm she is under the surface, for she must be aware of the way Tony's free hand, which grasps her so sure and steady, ghosts over the faded, yet notable jagged scars that mar the olive, golden surface of her skin. Tony pays no mind as his hand travels higher, over a particularly nasty one that Ducky himself picked the embedded glass from, except to trace it lightly before moving his hand to her shoulder. Finishing, he clips the bandage and straightens, hand still resting lightly on her shoulder.
"Easy, lion." He grins at her when she turns quickly to face him.
Her hand comes to rest against her rib cage to prod gently at the bandage around her abdomen.
"I think you mean tiger," Ziva smirks, raising her eyes to meet his, satisfied as the pain in her ribs dull.
Not knowing what to make of the exchange, but knowing a migraine would be likely to occur if he gave it much thought, Ducky wandered over to a cabinet to retrieve the pain killers he had promised her. It takes him only a second to find the pill bottle, before turning back around to the pair. He's shaking several pills free into the palm of his hand as Tony helps a now shivering Ziva redress, and thinks to himself how he's impressed that Tony has refrained from uttering a single remark about her being exposed and shirtless.
"I am sorry for the chill," Ducky chuckles, coming to stand beside the duo once more. Tony laughs, straightening her blouse as he zips her windbreaker over it and all the way up to her chin.
"Seven years, and she's still not used to a little cool climate," he teases. Ignoring him, Ziva takes the medication Ducky proffers to her.
"Here you are, Ziva." Ducky tells her and reaches out to grasp her hand, dropping the pills into her palm and closing her fingers around them with a gentle pat. She smiles in gratitude, and he looks between both of them, assuring their attention.
"You know the drill, do not take them if you are about to drive. Or in Anthony's case, if you are near any phone or have any access to communication with other persons." He looks knowingly at Tony, and the agent in question's face is laden with exasperation. Ducky continues, "And have somebody around or checking in on you if you take more than one for the pain. I am afraid that's all I will be able to do for you."
Ziva smiles and gently pats Ducky's cheek.
"This was more than enough. Thank you, Ducky. And I promise we will reschedule our lunch." Tony's face snaps up from where he was checking his phone, looking at his partner with interest.
Before he can question her, Ziva grabs his phone out of his grasp and begins swiping across the screen.
"Hey!" Tony exclaims indignant.
"I am ordering you a pizza since you will be driving me home. I am hungry and I cannot wait to drive home to also take this medication," she explains calmly without looking up, and Ducky smiles in amusement. "Shall I order our usual pizza?"
Her use of pronouns do not escape the Doctor's notice. A soft smile sneaks across Tony's face as he looks at his partner, and Ducky wonders if either of the two realizes how much affection is in that simple reaction of his she instils.
He doesn't wonder long as they turn to leave in sync; Tony's arm wrapped casually around her side, helping her walk toward the elevator.
He knows the both of them have figured it out.
It wouldn't have taken a doctor of his expertise to see it either, as he turns out the lights and grabs his coat. He thinks about what he just witnessed, and how the two behaved so casually it was so blatantly not casual.
Because those scars that cover , cross, and blend together all over Ziva's back would have shocked even a man with a poker face akin to Gibbs. And the way Tony DiNozzo handled himself was not in the way of a man who had never been exposed to them.
He handled it with familiarity.
He had seen them before, and often.
The gazes, the touches, and banter; All the heaviness lingered in a haze throughout the autopsy lab.
With one last look around the room, Doctor Mallard reached the door, waiting for it to slide open.
About time, is his last thought before he puts on his hat, and tightening his coat around his body as he heads toward the exit.