In the beginning it had been easy to convince himself it was just about sex with a viral man who knew exactly how to touch him.

It didn't matter to him it was another man giving him the best sex ever because, after all, bodies are just bodies and sex is just sex.

And that's how it had begun: him having sex with Ducky.

Simple; easy; no strings; no 'do you love me'; no angst; no worries about unwanted pregnancies; no 'you didn't call me'; just intense, powerful sex.

In the beginning it had been easy to tell himself he didn't see what he saw in Ducky's eyes which, no matter how hard Ducky tried, couldn't quite hide the truth.

It wasn't just sex for Ducky; his wasn't just a body to Ducky.

In the beginning it had been easy to call Ducky and break their arrangement. All it took was a winning smile, a short skirt and thoughts of sex with Ducky fled.

In the beginning it had been easy.

Easy to go off on deployment, waving a casual goodbye to Ducky.

Easy not to think about Ducky while on board.

Easy to tell himself when he got back he'd tell Ducky he couldn't see him again.

And now, as he sits by the bedside of his dearest, closest, oldest friend and most cherished lover, waiting to see if the blue eyes will ever speak to him again he almost, just for a fraction of a second, wishes it had never got beyond 'in the beginning'.

But it had; way, way, way, way, way beyond.

'Easy' became 'difficult' which in turn became 'impossible' until . . .

Until his life became so entwined with Ducky's that -

"Don't you dare die on me, Doctor," he says, bending forward to lightly kiss Ducky's forehead.