May 22
Our most intimate friend is not he to whom we show the worst, but the best of our nature. – Nathaniel Hawthorne
Leroy Jethro Gibbs observed the autopsy in silence. He didn't really need to be here, but Ducky had been his own assistant for a long and grueling day, and his friend needed the company.
He had always thought that an autopsy destroyed the last shreds of secrecy a murder victim had. After all, he and his team were prying into every aspect of the victim's life, while Ducky pried into the death. Everything was laid bare, both to the investigators and later the jury.
Yet Ducky was the one person he would feel comfortable performing his own autopsy. His old friend clearly cared for his guests; talking to them, telling them detailed exploits of his youth, and generally acting as though they were still alive. It made him smile to watch.
"Could you pass me that evidence jar?" Ducky requested, his eyes never leaving PFC Amos in front of him. "I appear to have something that would interest Abigail in here."
Gibbs obediently collected a jar and brought it to his friend's side.
"Many thanks," Ducky smiled as he deposited the metal shred. "Would you mind –"
"Not at all, Duck," he answered, heading towards the elevator. Just like Ducky, Abby would appreciate his visit.