Ducky ended up taking Gibbs and McGee back to their boarding house. McGee was too sleepy to mind being in the back of Ducky's Morgan or to take notice of the doctor's aggressive driving skill which he had commented on before.
"Go on in, McGee," ordered Gibbs when Ducky arrived at their destination. "I'll ask Dr Mallard to take me to the Yard. I want to check if they've found Lambert."
"I can go too," said McGee dutifully.
"No, I can manage," said Gibbs and then, with a rare softness, "Go on, Tim. You did good today but you can stand down now."
"OK," said McGee realising that he was indeed beat. "I'll see you later. Thank you for the ride, Dr Mallard … I mean, Ducky … er, Dr Ducky."
"You are most welcome, Timothy," said Ducky kindly. "If I may make a suggestion, have a warm bath before you retire. You will find that will warm you up nicely."
It seemed that Tim was too weary even to answer so he barely lifted a hand in acknowledgement and lurched his way into the hotel.
"I wouldn't advise you returning to work, Gibbs," said Ducky. "You have also had a trying day."
"You British sure have a gift for understatement," said Gibbs.
"Actually, I am Scottish," said Ducky precisely.
"Then I guess the Scottish do too," said Gibbs.
"Nevertheless …" began Ducky.
"Save your breath, Doctor," said Gibbs, "If you don't give me a ride then I'll get there anyway."
"If the British, and the Scottish, have a talent for understatement then I would have to observe that the Americans have a gift for bull-headed stubbornness," said Ducky.
Gibbs shrugged, "So, you gonna drive me or not?"
"Very well," sighed Ducky, "Against my better judgement."
"Not asking for your judgement," said Gibbs, "Just your driving."
For answer, Ducky released the handbrake and drove off. A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of Scotland Yard. Gibbs made to jump out but Ducky put a hand on his arm to prevent him,
"Anthony told me about your … shellshock," he said.
"Yeah? What about it?"
"I understand your not wanting to talk about it but I think, as Anthony indicated to you, there have been medical advances and you might find it beneficial to seek advice."
"Thanks, Doc, but no thanks," said Gibbs.
Ducky retained his hold on Gibbs' arm and coughed deprecatingly, "I do understand your reticence to speak about it, Gibbs."
"You do?" asked Gibbs sceptically.
Ducky laughed, "Yes, it seems unlikely that someone like me who undoubtedly likes to hear myself speak would be able to sympathise with someone who does not share that penchant for volubility."
"Huh?"
"What I mean to say is that while I like to think out loud I do understand that sometimes people prefer not to verbalise their inner thoughts."
"Doc, I may not be falling asleep on my feet like McGee, but I am kinda tired here … which is probably why I'm not following you."
"I apologise. I know what it is to try and bury something troubling."
"You do?"
"Indeed." Ducky coughed once more and then seemed to steel himself to speak, "As you know, I was a doctor during the war. The sights I saw there … well, I had never before witnessed such suffering: I hope I never have to again. I have never felt so useless or helpless; at times there seemed to be nothing I could to alleviate the pain and distress that attended my daily work. When the war ended I considered not returning to my medical career – I felt drained of all energy and of the compassion which I always felt was an integral part of my profession."
"But you did return to it?" said Gibbs.
"Yes, I did. Not immediately, but after a few months. But I felt unable to deal with living patients and so I accepted a job as pathologist. I believed that the only way in which I could use my medical skills was by trying to establish how people had died. I felt unable to face a living patient."
"Makes sense," said Gibbs.
"It was not an easy path," said Ducky, "I had not realised how bloodily people can still die even in a country at peace. But I found that I came to enjoy the puzzle of working out how someone had met their end. Why, I even found myself talking to the corpses as if they were still alive and I think that was something of a breakthrough for me. And I also found that talking to other doctors who had served in the war was helpful …"
"Hmm," said Gibbs who was not convinced.
"I realised," continued Ducky, "That although I habitually talked a lot, I rarely spoke of anything from … within, if you will. I talked of facts, of theories, I talked to instruct and to inform but I didn't actually share anything of how I felt. It was only when I began to do so that I found that the burden of my memories became less … I still regret that I was able to do so little but I have learned to live with that knowledge. And perhaps, Gibbs …"
"My friends call me Jethro," said Gibbs a little awkwardly.
"And perhaps, Jethro, you may find the same. You do not have to be alone in your suffering. I don't have many rules but one of them has come to be don't suffer in silence."
"I'll think about it," promised Gibbs.
"That is all I ask," said Ducky, "And I could probably give you the names of physicians in America who are doing research into shellshock. They may be able to help you … and even if they are not, what they learn from you may serve to help them in their research and assist other sufferers."
"Thanks," said Gibbs. "Remember I told you about my buddy – at Belleau Wood?"
"Yes, I do."
"You saved his leg, and his life."
"I remember you telling me."
"He teaches grade school now. He's making a difference to the lives of the young people he teaches. He wouldn't be doing that if it wasn't for you. I reckon you need to remember the people you helped; don't just focus on the men you couldn't save. You were there for hundreds of men … I saw you with my friend, how you were with the others too. I think I'd have been glad to have you as my doctor even if you couldn't save me, Ducky."
Ducky smiled a watery smile, "Thank you, Jethro, that means a lot. And I can tell you from personal experience that there is a way through bad memories and trauma. Unlikely as it seems, being a pathologist has, I believe, assisted my own recovery although it was some time before I acknowledged that I was in need of recovery. And now I feel ready to move on."
"Move on?"
"Yes, and I think I have Anthony … and Jimmy to thank for some of that."
"Jimmy? Palmer?"
"Certainly. Jimmy was always very interested in my medical findings and I finally discovered that, at one point, he had wanted to be a doctor but the cost of studying was beyond his means. I found his questions and enthusiasm somehow re-ignited my interest in medicine and I became more interested in new advances. As a result, I decided it was time to use my expertise in another way."
"Yes?"
"Yes. I am joining the teaching staff at St Thomas's Hospital at the beginning of the next academic year. I am looking forward to the new challenge."
"Jimmy'll miss you," said Gibbs.
"Well, no," said Ducky, "He is going to start his medical training at the same time. I have … er … managed to make some financial arrangements to enable him to achieve his ambition."
Gibbs nodded, pretty sure that the financial arrangements were that Ducky would pay for Jimmy's studies. "Scotland Yard is going to be missing a few people," he observed.
"Yes," sighed Ducky, "The old order is changing. Not, of course, that I regard myself as old and Jimmy certainly is not."
"And how did Anthony help with your revelation?" asked Gibbs.
"Ah," said Ducky thoughtfully, "Simply by being himself, I suppose. But I mustn't keep you from your labours … be sure to get medical advice should you feel any untoward symptoms from your alarums and excursions."
"My what and what?"
"Alarums and excursions … Richard lll Act 5 scene 4. Shakespeare," replied Ducky. "Cheerio!"
XXXXXX
"Thanks for doing this," said Tony a few days later as he sat in the passenger seat of his Austin 7 next to Gibbs. "Although you do remember that we drive on the left in this country?"
Gibbs shrugged, "Your roads are so narrow it doesn't really make a difference."
Tony shuddered, "Jane won't understand that."
"Jane?"
"Jane, the car. You know, Jane Austen … the English novelist. And I know, she was Austen with an E and the car is Austin with an I … but who cares?"
"Not me," said Gibbs firmly. "You named your car?"
Tony resolved not to be embarrassed. "Cars have character, they need names. And this beauty is a real lady."
"I'll bear it in mind," said Gibbs solemnly as he took Jane around a sharp bend.
Tony winced, "Just as well we don't have to have someone walking in front with a flag," he commented.
"What?"
"Used to be a law. Self-propelled vehicles had to be preceded by someone walking waving a red flag to warn people they were on their way. If we still had it in force, you'd kill your flag bearer every time."
"How fast did these vehicles go?" asked Gibbs. "Can't have been very fast or the guy would have to run rather than walk."
"Don't know," said Tony. "My grandfather can remember it happening and people used to stand at the side of the road and stare. Don't worry, the law was repealed years ago."
"Glad to hear it," said Gibbs as he pressed on the accelerator again.
Tony decided to divert his mind from the traumas of Gibbs' driving. "I saw Deputy Commissioner James on Friday," he said.
"Thought you were meant to be out sick," said Gibbs.
"I was, I am. I just went in to catch up with some stuff."
"And?"
"And PC Jenks is way too observant. He informed on me … and that's why I saw the Deputy Commissioner and why he told me to leave again," said Tony sadly.
"But?"
"What makes you think there's a but?"
"Haven't known you long, DiNozzo but somehow I think, with you, there's always a but," said Gibbs drily.
"But," said Tony, "He did tell me that Winston and his crew had caught Lambert and his cronies as they got close to Canary Wharf. Their boat was full of bottles of Scotch whisky and French wines – it was worth a fortune even here … I'm guessing it would be even more valuable in the States. You don't look pleased, Gibbs?"
"It was good work," allowed Gibbs, "But now there's all this arguing about where he gets tried."
"He killed Bernard Sewell here," Tony pointed out. "And kidnapped two other people."
"Two US citizens," said Gibbs, "And he killed someone in America."
"He was smuggling out of this country," countered Tony.
"And suspected of spying in America," said Gibbs.
"That turned out not to be true," said Tony.
"But he was smuggling into the US. Smuggling alcohol … that's against the American Constitution."
Tony seemed less than impressed by this argument. "We'll just have to leave it to the higher ups to sort out," he said philosophically.
"We can't go home until it's sorted out," said Gibbs.
"You're welcome any time," said Tony hospitably. "And look on the bright side, it gives you a chance to see more of the country." He stole a look at Gibbs' face and decided this wasn't a big incentive for Gibbs. "Tim is delighted," continued Tony, "Especially since I got him that new guide book."
"Did you have to get him one for the whole of England?" groused Gibbs. "I'll never get him on board the ship home."
"To be fair, I think you'll struggle with that anyway," said Tony practically. "And it could have been worse."
"How?"
"I could have got him one that had Wales, Northern Ireland and Scotland in as well."
"Well …" said Gibbs.
"And the Channel Islands," added Tony.
"OK, I surrender!" conceded Gibbs.
"Gibbs!" yelled Tony, "Keep your hands on the steering wheel for goodness sake!"
Gibbs grinned evilly as he returned the hands he had lifted in a gesture of surrender to the steering wheel.
"And," said Tony a little more calmly as his heart rate returned to normal, "It means I can show you some of Oxfordshire. Bradyn and Ducky wouldn't let me drive down here on my own."
Gibbs nodded. Tony had been kept in hospital for two days before being released under strict instructions to rest at home. Gibbs wasn't sure how much resting had been done …
FLASHBACK
"Afternoon, Gibbs … Tim," said Tony when he opened the door of his flat to the Americans. "Come in, I was about to make some tea."
Gibbs and McGee had decided to visit Tony to see how he was doing after being sent home. Truth to tell, there wasn't much for them to be doing now that Lambert had been captured. It turned out that Lambert had a network of informants in London, mostly young lads who were able to hang around and listen out for gossip in places Lambert thought might be useful. Scotland Yard suspected that he was involved in more than just the smuggling and they were trying to discover the extent of his operations. Gibbs didn't know at the time but this made it even more likely that the Metropolitan Police would fight to keep Lambert in the country.
Tony had produced tea and scones for his guests and then, with a sigh, went to get Gibbs some coffee.
"This jelly is delicious," said Tim as he smothered another scone with butter and jam.
"Jam," said Tony, "Here we call it jam. Jelly is something different. And it's blackberry and apple. My aunt's housekeeper makes it. In fact, I may even have picked these blackberries."
Gibbs took a sip of his coffee and looked around Tony's apartment. "Thought you were meant to be taking it easy," he commented.
"Pardon?" said Tony.
"Place looks even more packed up than when I was here before," said Gibbs.
"You were here before?" asked Tim.
"Yes," said Tony, "You know, that night that Gibbs and I got called in to follow up on a lead."
Gibbs nodded, grateful that Tony didn't refer to allowing him to get drunk to avoid being disturbed by the fireworks on Guy Fawkes Day.
"Oh yes," said McGee. "What are those?" He pointed to small square cakes on the table.
"Chelsea Buns," said Tony, "Try one. I think you'll like it."
Tim needed no further invitation and dived in.
"You're sure getting a taste for British food," commented Gibbs.
Tim was learning from his Boss and simply shrugged.
"I got you something, Tim," said Tony and handed him a parcel.
Tim hastily swallowed the last mouthful of fruity bun and took the package. He opened it to reveal the Definitive Guide for Visitors to England. "That's great," said Tim as he leafed through the pages. "And it's got railway timetables as well. Thank you!"
"You're welcome," said Tony. "If it wasn't for your London book, you and Gibbs might have been found by some mud lark washed up along the Thames."
"Mud lark?" asked Tim.
"So," said Gibbs deciding he didn't want yet another explanation of what he suspected was an historic term, "You've been busy since you got out of the hospital?"
"I've taken it easy … some of the time," said Tony. "I get bored."
"I can believe that," said Gibbs.
"And I need to take a trip at the weekend," said Tony. "I needed to rest up for that. In fact, I wondered if you'd both like to come."
"Where?" asked McGee.
"Netley Green, Oxfordshire," said Tony.
"Well," said McGee hesitantly, "I've made arrangements to meet up with Henry … you know, my friend at Imperial. We were going to visit Cambridge … the Fitzwilliam Museum. But …"
"Don't worry, Tim," said Tony. "You go with Dr Wagstaff. Gibbs, you want to come?"
"Well …" began Gibbs.
"I wouldn't ask, but I need someone to drive me."
Gibbs brightened at the thought of a drive and remembered that perhaps he and McGee both owed Tony something for saving their lives. "Sure," he said, "You'll let me drive your car?"
McGee tried to signal his alarm about this suggestion but Tony seemed to miss the cue. "Yes," he said.
"What are we going to do there?" asked Gibbs.
"Well, you'll meet my aunt … and there's something I have to do …" said Tony.
END FLASHBACK
And so it had happened that Gibbs had collected Tony from his flat (which was even barer) on the Saturday afternoon to drive him down to Netley Green. It wasn't long before, despite his worries about which side of the road Gibbs would drive on, that Tony fell asleep.
Gibbs followed Tony's earlier directions and enjoyed the drive through the countryside until he pulled the car up in front of an old house built of honey coloured Cotswold stone. Gibbs nodded approval and nudged Tony awake,
"Hey," he said, "We're here!"
AN: didn't manage to finish it in one chapter after all!
