The end of this work day came like any other, quietly and without fanfare as Gibbs looked up from his work and removed his reading glasses. He sighed with exhaustion and rubbed at the soreness the nose pads always caused when wearing the frames for a long time. He made a decision there and then knowing that they had been at it for far too long as it was and damn, if he was bone weary then his team sure as hell had to be. "Go home!"

Watching as his agents closed down their work stations and hitched their gear bags up on their shoulders almost in complete synchronization with each other, Gibbs wondered if they all didn't need to catch up on some sleep. Now that he was taking a minute to look them over, he could see the signs he hadn't noticed before. The beginnings of circles under their eyes and their slightly drooping shoulders along with their lackluster goodbye' and slow pace all seemed to add up to that problem.

Not wanting them to squander this chance to get some of that much needed sleep, the boss stood up and garnered his team's attention in his trademark way. "DiNozzo!"

As Gibbs' holler reached the trio from across the first floor, they all stopped and turned back to look at the man who'd issued the directive.

"Boss?" Tony asked in slight confusion.

"Don't even think of doin' anything but goin' home to get some sleep! Any of ya's!"

The trio of 'yes, Boss's that assaulted his ears gave him comfort since he knew none of them would disobey the order. Without a backwards glance at his once again retreating team, Gibbs picked up his coffee cup and headed out of the squad room in search of a fresh cup of coffee and the voice of reason he long ago learned to pay heed to.

"Ah, Jethro, what brings you to these depths, my friend? Your team has no active case at the moment, I believe."

"Nope. Just sent 'em home."

Ducky looked at the clock on his wall in amazement. "I believe that must be a first for you. I don't think you have ever sent your team home so early before."

"They needed the down time. Gave 'em orders to go home and sleep."

"Ah, I see. A strategic plan in the works after all. Very Team Leader of you." Ducky smiled as Gibbs flashed a genuine smile in return.

"Take that as a compliment." Gibbs allowed.

"As well you should. Now then, if your visit is not case related, then perhaps it is the conversation we touched on earlier between our troubled young agent and our Forensic Scientist that brings you to me for some sort of explanation?"

"Uh-uh. Just wanna know if we should be forcing McGee to take a day off."

"Jethro, if I believed that it was necessary, I would have already alerted you to as much. Timothy simply needs a good hot meal or two and a decent night's sleep. Which reminds me, he promised to think about coming to dinner at my house this evening. I do wonder if he's forgotten."

"Not likely, Duck. He'll probably be sittin' in your driveway when you get home." Gibbs joked with a smirk.

"Hmm. Equally not as likely, because our young man knows my address as well as he does yours and I am pained to say, that information is sketchy at best."

"He's been to my house."

"How many times?" Ducky asked with a knowing smirk.

"He's been there at least twice that I can think of. Hell, Duck, he drove me back and forth to work for a week just last year!" The Team Leader reminded his friend.

"And for what reason have the occasions been that he was at your residence?" The M.E. pushed with all seriousness.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Gibbs growled.

"Trust me, Jethro, it has very much to do with the state of mind Timothy was in and whether or not he can trust his recollections from that time period enough to get him to your home if he ever needed to talk to you as you have offered him to."

"You know why he was there, Duck."

"That is exactly my point, my dear friend. Both of the times he was at your home were case related, distracting Timothy from the details of your actual address and location, especially given the fact that he did not drive himself there on either occasion. As I recall, one of those occasions was after dark, as well."

Gibbs blinked. He hadn't ever realized that. He'd always assumed Tim would have been among the first to know where he lived with his computer access abilities and all.

Ducky watched his friend process that information for a minute before he continued on: "Additionally, Jethro, that week he was privileged enough to find himself welcome to your home, it was, as you stated, to help you while injured and as we both know he was exhausted that entire week. I doubt very seriously that if asked at this time, where you reside, he would be able to recall such information."

The younger man's blank look was almost comical, causing Ducky to let loose a small smile. "Yes, I wondered if you thought it through when you advised him the other day that your open door policy included him." The M.E. remarked offhandedly.

Gibbs voiced his irritation at this conversational track. "There a point in there somewhere, Dr. Mallard?"

"Of course. I simply wondered if you when you expressed that offer to him," the M.E. remarked offhandedly. "You made sure to give him your address?"

"McGee's running to you now?" Gibbs asked incredulously.

"Absolutely not, Jethro! I'm appalled that you would even entertain such a notion even for a moment! I happened to be passing through from the back elevator to the front and overheard your conversation. Nothing more."

Gibbs blinked as he pulled his thoughts back together. He had gone out on a limb just then, actually thinking Tim would do something like that. He knew and trusted Tim better than that. Finally, he recalled something that would put this conversation to rest in a way that made sense.

"Duck, it's McGee. You know as well as I do he'll GPS your damn address and find a way to get there. He'd find his way to my place if he wanted to bad enough." Gibbs' tone was the epitome of impatience

"Oh, Jethro." Ducky gently admonished.

"Ducky, I did not come down here for a lecture! Do we need to make him take a day off or not?"

"As I stated earlier, my friend, that will not be necessary, provided Timothy is able to eat adequately to serve his body's nutritional needs and get the sleep he needs. Speaking of which, I really must call him and remind him of our earlier conversation." Ducky stated as he dug out his cell phone and dialed the speed dial number for the agent in question.

As the phone began to ring, the M.E. put his end of the conversation on speakerphone while he put his hands to work straightening up his desk and signing paperwork so he could close up and head home.

"Hey, Ducky. I haven't forgotten." Tim's quiet voice rang out through the quiet autopsy suite.

"Wonderful. How does dinner at 7 sound?"

"Like you weren't planning on giving me a choice?" Tim asked dryly.

"Timothy, be a good lad and do not fight me on this, alright? You have already agreed with me that you need at least one full night of rest and I intend to see that you get it. It is, after all, only Wednesday and there are still two workdays left for you to get through before you have the weekend off to rest more fully." The M.E. gently admonished as he fought not to laugh at Tim's attempt at humor within the stressful situation.

"I know, Ducky and I appreciate it. Really. I'll be there." Their renowned gentleman was back in good form with the genuine manners the response was full of.

"Timothy, are you alright to drive?"

"I'm on the bus. I didn't drive in today."

"Very good, lad. Do remember to think about letting me in on whatever's bothering you so you might find some peace about it."

"I'm still thinking that over." Tim honestly answered him a tad bit defensively.

"All right, my friend. I won't push. I'll expect you at 7."

"Thanks again, Ducky."

"You are quite welcome dear boy. I shall see you shortly."

"Okay. Do you want me to bring anything?" Tim asked softly. He already knew the answer but didn't want to turn up empty handed.

"Not a thing, Timothy. Just bring yourself."

Tim chuckled lightly. "Alright. Thanks Ducky. Bye."

As the call was disconnected, the silence seemed to taunt Gibbs with its' emptiness as if to allow the haunting words of the conversation just ended to reverberate through Gibbs' head. Unable to shrug the bad feeling he had developed in the pit of his stomach about whatever was going on with his youngest agent, he did the only thing he could do; made for the exit, leaving the expert to handle the situation.. "Lemme know how it goes, will ya, Duck?

"Certainly, Jethro. You would do well to remember what I told you earlier in the day, my friend. Our young man needs our help not our censure. It matters not that he is unwilling to let you in at the moment. It only matters that you continue to allow him to see that you will not give up on making yourself available to him; so that when such time comes that he does allow himself to confide in you; he will know without a doubt that he still has that option!"

Gibbs had stopped moving toward the door as soon as Ducky had started speaking again and now stood contemplating his friend from across the room. Although the older man usually took the long way around a short conversation, the point had still been received and understood. "I hear ya, Duck. All I can do is try."

"Yes, my friend, I agree. I can only hope you continue to do so."

"Workin' on it, Duck." Gibbs conceded as he left out. "Nite!"

"Good night, Jethro." The M.E. spoke into the now empty air, a deep sigh leaving out of his lungs on the tail end of his words. With a frown, he realized he hadn't even remembered to inquire as to how his friend's wrist was doing; whether or not it was still hurting him since he'd hurt it just the day before. Vowing to do so after he'd gotten home and gotten dinner started, Ducky felt a little better about the unintended slight he'd committed.

Looking around him, he saw that everything had been tidied to his satisfaction and he could now head home and prepare dinner for himself and his expected guest. He found himself hoping that tonight would prevail itself to much more conversation than what was usually provided for the young man at the heart of his concern. All Ducky could do was try. It was a good thing that one thing the M.E. had plenty of; was patience. Something told him he would need every ounce of that commodity before this situation was resolved.

****NCIS****

Thursday morning dawned bright and cheerfully full of singing birds, even at the impolite hour of five in the morning. Getting ready for work as usual, Ducky had to smile as he recalled the way dinner turned out the previous evening.

There had been a moment or two throughout the evening when the M.E. had found himself rather put out with his own errors in judgment; such as when Tim had admitted the only way he'd found Ducky's house had been because he'd asked Jimmy for the address and directions. Getting Tim to agree to spend the night in his guest bedroom had taken a little doing; but with a promise of a ride back to his apartment in the morning, the young man had given in and even offered a smile when Ducky had placed a before dinner drink in his hand.

Tim had smirked. "You're a doctor and you're offering your patient alcohol?"

The older man had smiled in return. "Yes, well, in this case, I believe the patient has earned the privilege."

Tim had returned the smile genuinely; the brightness of it lighting up the room enough that it had lightened Ducky's heart about getting to the bottom of the young man's difficulties.

After dishing up the beef stew that Ducky had left cooking in the slow cooker all day, the M.E. had encouraged Tim to get comfortable at the kitchen table and they'd shared a quiet dinner without any talk of problems or even work. With joint effort, the cleanup from dinner had taken mere minutes and they had retired to the study to sit in comfortable easy back chairs, the time for conversation that had been expected, finally at hand.

Ducky had still been bothered by the young man's words from earlier in the day, as they'd come back to him in that after dinner silence

"...even if you didn't make fun of me for it, it would put you in an awkward position and I don't want to do that to you."

He had felt the need to get the young man to explain at least that much even if he wouldn't talk about anything else that was bothering him. Somehow, the M.E. had known that the answer to why he had said that was the answer to what was bothering him. Ducky had taken a deep breath and opened up the conversation.

"Timothy, would you mind telling me why you would believe for a moment that I would, as you stated, make fun of you for whatever it is that's been bothering you?"

Tim had taken a deep breath of his own, glanced at the M.E. and then sent his eyes back down to the floor at his feet before answering quietly in the form of a question.

"You remember that case with the gang members and the marine who were all killed by that double crossing gang member and then found frozen in the pond?"

"Yes, I believe I remember it quite well. As I recall, it was one of our joint cases with our esteemed FBI Agent, Fornell. Our lady agents were quite lucky that dreadful evening when that slime ball was unable to take them out; though it certainly wasn't for lack of trying."

"Yeah. I know. But, I'm talking about the stuff flyin' through the rumor mill earlier the day we landed that case: when Tony went snooping through my desk and found the lotion?" Tim clarified as he recalled, nearly word for word, the memory that had remained a part of him and had brought him to the decision to hold everything about this inside.

***FLASHBACK***

"Apricot oil, aloe Vera... Shea butter?" Tony hollered out in mockery.

"I didn't know you were so interested in skin care." Ziva remarked in her effort to make fun of him in return.

"Yeah, it's not mine. It's McGee's. Maybe the Probie is gay" Tony replied derisively enough there was no doubt he was seriously not claiming any kinship to his supposition..

"I'm not gay, Tony." Tim argued as he returned to the squad room and yanked his lotion out of Tony's hand, shoving it back into his desk drawer.

"Are you saying there's something wrong with being gay, Timothy?" Ziva asked in genuine interest.

"No, that is not what I am saying." Tim defended himself,

"Bi-curious. I suppose now you're gonna tell us that a lot of your friends are of the homosexual persuasion and that I should be more sensitive." Tony mocked with all seriousness.

"No, actually, I was going to tell you to stay out of my desk. " Tim replied angrily.

"Right, because you wouldn't want word spreading that you're (READING) "Deep moisturizing to bring out your feminine glow." Tony laughed.

"I have dry skin, okay? My doctor recommended it" Tim attempted to explain himself.

"Ha! Well, you're walking a slippery slope there, Probilitious. Before you know it you're going to be taking bubble baths with your clogs on." Tony replied in complete seriousness.

"What is wrong with bubble baths? Tim asked in genuine confusion.

"I'm just saying, Probie, the whole metrosexual thing isn't working for you."

"I got it, Tony. Joke's over " Tim stated seriously, now fed up with the whole conversation.

"I'm not joking, man. We all know that the ladies love a macho man who is in touch with his feminine side. But I've got to tell you, I think you're coming off... a little gay."

"Because he uses body lotion and likes to take bubble baths? I.." Ziva tried to defend Tim's silence.

"Did you forget the manicure?" Tony snidely threw in.

"The manicure was only once and it was because I tore a cuticle" Tim was getting snappy now, his anger rising quickly..

"You just set off gay-dar across the entire Atlantic seaboard." The Senior Field Agent instructed him with all sincerity.

"Tony, I am not gay!" Tim was nearing the end of his allotment of patience..

"This isn't about orientation. This is about image." Tony reminded the clueless probie.

"So, now your image is homo-pubic?" Ziva asked with all due seriousness.

Tony was quick to correct the point made in error. "The term is 'homophobic'' And no. Prejudice of any kind is an ugly thing. Listen, girls like guys who like guys but they like guys who like guys who like-"

***END FLASHBACK***

Oh, dear, Timothy! You actually recall that entire conversation? The M.E. had exclaimed in surprise.

"Yeah," Tim had answered as if it were no big deal to remember a conversation from several years back, in that much detail. "Kinda left an imprint on me about what they thought of the whole 'being okay with gay' attitude was concerned."

"Oh, dear. What I recall is hearing from Jethro how he was quite amused at overhearing that particular conversation. He could hardly keep a straight face as he relayed it to me later in the day." Ducky had informed the younger man at that point.

"I figured that was how you heard about it. No wonder he was making fun of me right alongside Tony." Tim griped as he shared that memory, as well.

"Is something wrong, Boss?" Tim asked nervously as the boss stood staring at him while they rode the elevator down to the front entrance.

"Just admiring your feminine glow" Gibbs answered back almost offhandedly, leaving no room for doubt that he'd heard the conversation between Tim and Tony and was making fun of Tim for it..

"Timothy, do not for a moment believe Jethro is even on the same level of poking fun at people as Anthony." Ducky had been quick to gently admonish the young man.

"I know, Ducky. But, it snowballed from there and before it was over, every one of you except for Abby and Jimmy were making fun of me for it in one way or another." Tim's answer had been quiet yet defensive.

"I was unaware you had counted myself among that crew of those who were doing so." Ducky had surmised sadly,

"I guess, it just really hit like a punch to the gut to hear you join in on it, too." Had been the younger man's answer as he recounted what he remembered of that rather short conversation

" ... Is that aftershave I smell?" The M.E. inquired
.
"Old Spice. I had to shave mid-day" Tim replied casually.

"Yes, I've heard about your infatuation with ... lotions." Ducky smirked as he watched the young agent blush furiously.

"Yes, I can see where my words could have been taken as such. I was afraid then that my comments would indeed be misconstrued. I do so apologise, Timothy. The subject never arose again, otherwise I would have clarified what I meant on the matter. I promise you, my friend that my intention was never to poke fun in such a way that it would lead you to mistrust me as someone you could confide in." Ducky had been quick to earnestly offer on the heels of that reminder of that specific conversation.

"Thanks for that, Ducky. Believe it or not, it does help, even now." Tim's acceptance of the M.E.'s apology had been expected but welcomed just the same.

"Then I am glad we had this talk. I presume that this is also the topic of the dreams that have been keeping you awake at night?" Ducky had pushed things along in hopes of getting Tim to continue opening up and stop holding it all inside where it was costing him much more than lost sleep.

"In a roundabout way." Tim had attempted to dodge the question.

"Timothy, why don't you just tell me what the trouble is? Perhaps I can help. I certainly will not make fun, no matter what the situation might be." Ducky had earnestly vowed.

Tim had taken a deep breath and slowly let it out. Finally, for the first time in that entire conversation, he'd allowed himself to look over at the M.E. as he quietly spoke from the depths of his problem-ridden heart. "I think I'm gay, after all."

***NCIS***

Ducky smiled wistfully as he heard his guest rustling around getting ready to face the day. Hearing the young man's confession of what his dreams had been leading him to believe had shaken the M.E. but had also given him an insight as to why Tim's trust in him had been on shaky ground without him ever having known it. It had done the older man's heart good when Tim once again allowed Ducky to be the keeper of that trust. He would not let the young man down this time.

After hearing what Tim wanted him to know of the situation, which, admittedly had been lacking in the intimate details of his dreams, Ducky had been quick to reassure the young man that there was nothing wrong with him, and that he was not going crazy. While it was troubling when one's mind did lead them on a new path of thought and learning, it did not necessarily mean the world, as they knew it was coming to an end. It simply meant, it was time to expand their horizons.

Hearing Tim admit he'd already given plenty of thought to doing just that and was actually looking forward to it; Ducky had been hard pressed to ask the question of what was the real problem if he'd already worked that much out for himself.

The wistful smile on the M.E.'s face was there now because of the answer Tim had given to that question last night. An answer that had blown the older man's socks off; but was now, after some time to think on it, actually beginning to make sense and even bring a spirit of hope to the situation. Even now, he could still hear the final words that had been spoken in that conversation.

"Timothy, if you have worked all of this out for yourself, dear boy, what seems to be the trouble? Why is it you are losing sleep over this repetitive dream of yours?"

"Because, Ducky. The person in the dream with me... The person making love to me in my dreams -." Tim stopped, shaking his head. "I can't. Can we just let it go please?"

As Timothy enters the kitchen now, the question foremost on the M.E.'s mind slips out unfettered. "Are you afraid to tell me who it is?" The older man's sympathetic glance was trained on the young man looking back at him with complete seriousness.

"More like afraid of jinxing things the minute I say it." Tim admitted quietly. . "It's not like I've seen their face, anyway; only their eyes. So I really shouldn't be guessing like this anyway. Still... I can't help but feel like I know who it is and..." Again, Tim stopped, this time breathing a sigh of frustration into the silence.

"Ah, I see. You'd rather have the dream to look forward to than nothing to look forward to at all."

"Something like that." Tim's face grew red as he walked past the M.E. to the front door. "Thanks for listening, Ducky. For the sedative that got me through the night too." Having said that, Tim took himself on out to the car, obviously at the end of his willingness to let the M.E. in.

Ducky shook his head at the younger man's embarrassment. It didn't matter who Timothy was dreaming about, not to the M.E. But, he had to respect Tim's privacy and he refused to push him for more than he was willing to share. All he could do was breathe a sigh of relief that Tim had opened up to him as much as he had; especially with something that was indeed, a very private situation. Maybe now that the young man had gotten it off his chest and gotten an educated opinion that he wasn't going crazy as well as having gotten a good night's sleep and some decent food in him, things would begin to turn around for the young agent.

Ducky could only hope so.