A month of awkward silences and awkward glances and avoided eye contact passed slowly. Jethro walked slowly to his desk. He gazed down onto it and the room fell even quieter. Jethro's eyes were drawn to a picture, an ultrasound. A son. His son. All of his colleagues knew the picture had been put on his desk. Abby had showed them the picture and Ducky had laid it on his desk.
"Who put this here?" He choked.
"Ducky did," Tony said, the heat from Jethro's gaze burning him.
Jethro flipped out his phone and dialed Ducky, "Doctor Mallard, would you please join me upstairs at my desk?" He clicked his phone shut.
About a minute later the elevator bell rang and Ducky stepped bravely off the elevator. Jethro rose to meet him. He stopped him in them middle of the aisle.
"Who the hell do you think you are exactly?"
"What do you mean?"
"Who do you think you are putting an ultrasound picture on my desk?!" Jethro was livid.
"I thought you would want to see your son."
"I thought you had a life of your own to worry about,"
"You have hurt a person very near and dear to my heart, Jethro, this is my business."
"This is none of your business," He spat.
"LEROY JETHRO GIBBS DON'T YOU DARE SNAP AT ME! You're being irresponsible, unreasonable, and immature. You haven't talked to the mother of your child in a month. You need to get over yourself and start working on moving on. No, you'll never, ever stop loving who you've lost and no, you'll never stop missing them. But you can still live your life. You're an idiot if you think for a second this is the right thing to do…"
"I know what I'm doing, Doctor, thank you."
"It doesn't appear to be that way…" Ducky shouted to a fleeing Jethro.