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Chapter 4. Ducky keeps his word. 

 Back at the apartment, Ducky helped Abby out of her coat before she excused herself to the bathroom.  He hung both of their coats in the closet by the main door, hanging his fedora along with them.  Locking the door, he undid his bowtie as he went to sit on the couch in the living room.  Taking the far spot, the black leather cradled him into a relaxing recline.  Removing his bowtie out from the collar of his shirt, he undid the top two buttons with his right hand and tossed the tie on the coffee table with his left.  He could hear the water run briefly in the bathroom and he leaned his head on the back of the couch and gathered his thoughts.


            The bathroom door opened and Abby’s heels clicked down the hall towards the living room.  Not lifting his head off the couch, Ducky turned to smile at her and invited her over to him with a simple hand motion.  She smiled back and slid her shoes off beside the couch.  She opted to lay on the couch and rested her head on Ducky’s lap, draping her arm over his thighs. 


            They sat like that, in comfortable silence, for some time.  Ducky had released her hair from its clips and was running his fingers through the ebony strands when she finally started talking.


            “You know what I liked best about the show, Duck-Man?” she moved her head up onto his chest and now her arm was wrapped around his waist.  His hand moved to trace patterns around her lower back, where the lower point of her cross tattoo lay under her dress.


            “Hmmm?” He inquired.


            “Even freaks found happiness.” 


            “Everyone is a freak in someone’s eyes, Abigail.” Ducky pointed out.


            Abby found herself smiling into him and sat up to be able to see his face. “You know what I mean Ducky,” she said jokingly.  “People like me…Goth, tattoos, weird…bedroom requests…”


            He cut her ramble short this time.  “You are no more a freak than anyone else in this life Abigail.  Hell, look at me!” He chuckled. “I have spent the last three decades of my life surrounded by dead bodies…and I LOVE my work!  Most people think I have fallen off my bloody rocker.”


            Even in the dim light of the room, he could see her eyes gleaming.  He wrapped his hand around her face and pulled her in for a kiss.  With their lips almost touching, he whispered…


            “I like your style of freak…”


            What had started as a passionate exchange of gentle kisses quickly escalated into need and desire.  Abby started to press Ducky back onto the couch more but he stopped her before he was fully reclined.


            “What’s wrong Donald?” she asked, nervous she had rushed.


            “I believe I promised you the coffin this time, did I not?” he chirped with a lopsided grin.


            Looping her fingers into his, Abby bounded off the couch and started back down the hall.  The only pause Ducky made was to retrieve his small luggage from the near side of the couch before they departed the living room.  Hand in hand, Abby led them to the room in the back right corner of the apartment.  The door had been left ajar, and they easily slipped in. 


            Flipping the lights on, Abby turned to watch Ducky’s reaction to her room, her most intimate physical space.  She gauged his reaction as surprised, but in a good way.  His eyes made a quick trip around the pictures adorning the walls.  She couldn’t help but become a bit giddy when she seen the smile sweep over his face.


            It was brighter than he had imagined; her room.  Ducky had often imagined that Abby’s room would be dark, candles for the main lighting bouncing off black walls.  Instead, the walls were white with red designs under the many framed photographs.  The photos were from her personal collection of specimen samples; some from under the electron microscope, others were modified CT or MRI scans.  He recognized one from her lab hanging above the bed…or, well, coffin bed.  It was ‘ice pick to the cerebellum’ if he recalled correctly.  He couldn’t help the smile from curing up on his lips…she was definitely his kind of freak. 


            His final glances were spared for the bed.  It was, in fact, made to look like a coffin.  He was pleased that it actually wasn’t a real one, but rather a large bed enclosed around the perimeter by a hard border and shaped like an oversized coffin.  It held a crimson velvet lining and the sleep surface was approximately ten inches below the top of the border wall.  Linens to match the velvet lining made it seem far more inviting than he had ever imagined it would be.


            With one hand still toting his luggage and the other woven in with his lovers, he used his head to motion towards the bed.  “Shall we?” He added. 


            Abby suddenly felt very nervous about the prospect of her fantasy coming true, but she tried her best to hide it.  Having dropped Ducky’s hand, she watched him set his luggage on the side table next to the bed.  When he turned to face her again and approached her with a hand in the air, she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. 


            Having sat his luggage within reaching distance of the bed, Ducky turned to face Abby, to start the intricacies of their evening.  He drew his right hand up to the level of her throat as he narrowed the gap between them. When he slid his hand to the back of her neck to release her choker, he could feel her pulse pounding back at him.  Once he had the choker free of her neck, he placed it atop a dresser that was behind them.  Taking her hand once more, he led her to the bed and let her slide into the far side.  Needing to have full control over both his mind and his body for the next tasks, he removed his suspenders, and unbuttoned his outer shirt, noting how she was watching him carefully.  Draping the shirt and suspenders on the floor beside the dresser, he slipped off each of his shoes before taking his place in the bed next to her. 


            As they lay in bed together, Ducky pulled Abby into a gentle, loving kiss before resting their foreheads together for a moment.  Keeping his right hand cradling her face, he began to speak.


            “Are you ready for a trial run love?” Watching her closely.


            Abby swallowed hard but nodded in agreement. “I am,” she added.


            “Okay,” was all Ducky added, brushing their lips together briefly before kneeling up on the bed and digging into his luggage.  He found his stethoscope easily and returned to a prone position next to Abby on the bed, propping himself up on his left side with his elbow.  He wore a smile that was honest, genuine, and kind.  Slipping the stethoscopes earpieces into place, he slid the diaphragm onto her chest and listened.


            Abby knew her nerves were running wild but she hoped that it wouldn’t hinder the plans for the evening.  When Ducky donned his stethoscope and smiled, she couldn’t help but smile back, and she felt herself relax back onto her pillows a bit.  She closed her eyes and let Ducky do whatever he felt necessary for safety and easement of thought.  She could feel the diaphragm moving around her chest and sides before hearing him slip it around his neck to hold it.  Smiling again, she imagined that was a habit left over from medical school that all doctors found nearly impossible to break.  Opening her eyes to observe, she watched Ducky time her pulse from her left radial artery and his watch.  Finally, his hand went to her throat in search of the exact points he would soon need.  Looking down at the bed, he found the points of her carotid arteries on each side of her neck; one with his thumb and one with his middle finger. 


            Having completed his medical checks, Ducky felt slightly more confident about what he was intending to do to Abby.  He removed his hands from her, still leaning up on his elbow as he spoke.


            “I feel I should warn you, Abigail, that there is a fair likelihood, that even with the best possible outcome tonight, you will have a decent headache in the morning.  Loss of oxygen to the brain…” He found himself cut off.


            “Causes a buildup of toxins in the blood…I know.” She added sheepishly, realizing she probably shouldn’t have cut him off.


            “I just want you fully informed,” he added, tone subdued.  “Are you absolutely sure you want to continue with the trial run?” He made sure to watch her closely for non-verbal signs of hesitation, finding none. -


            “I am ready Donald.  I trust you, and I love you.” Nothing more needed to be said.


            “Okay,” he spoke directly to her, making sure he had her full attentions.  “It should only take about five or six seconds of moderate pressure for you to feel light headed and likely develop tunnel vision.  At the VERY FIRST sign of those, I want you to blink twice, rapidly, is that clear?”


            Abby nodded in agreeance.  “Clear.”


            “If you wait even a few seconds to long to signal me to release my grip, you could very easily end up unconscious, and we would be done.  Don’t try to talk when I release you because I will need to immediately start checking your vitals…only speak if something is very wrong, clear?”


            Nodding again, she answered “Clear.”


            Ducky leaned over and kissed her once more.  Letting his lips linger over hers, he lets her know how much he loves her as well.  “I would never intentionally hurt you Abigail.  Please believe that.” He ends one final kiss and pulls himself into a semi-seated position, half next to her, half over her.


            Abby stilled on the bed and told him that she did believe him.  Taking a deep breath to calm his own nerves and steady his hand, Ducky moved his right hand over her throat, keeping his left firmly on his stethoscope. 


            “Are you ready?” he asked, locking eyes with her.  He would not pull his gaze away for anything. His thumb and finger found the arteries again but put no pressure yet.


            “Yes,” was Abbys answer. 


            Ducky waited for her to take another deep breath.  When she had just started to exhale, he clamped his thumb and middle finger down on her arteries, feeling the pulse slowly trail off under them.  He was glad that her face didn’t show any pain, which very well could have derailed him.  He kept count in his head, taking care not to blink, for fear of missing her signal.  1….2….3….4…5… Just before he hit six Abby blinked twice. 


            In a fraction of a second, his hand released from her throat and darted to his stethoscope.  He practically threw the earpieces into place while he moved the diaphragm to the point his thumb had just assaulted.  With his right hand, he found her radial pulse again and began to count.


            Abby did as she had promised and kept quiet.  She tried to keep her breathing even but the rush of blood back through a now narrowed artery made her heart pound hard and her cheeks flush.  After he checked the artery in the right side of her neck, the diaphragm moved to the left side and he listened again.  When he was finished, he sat back next to her on the bed and hung the stethoscope back around his neck.


            “How do you feel?” he inquired, blue eyes filled with concern.


            Abby took a deep breath before she spoke.  “Wow,” was all she could come up with at first.  “You were right…the tunnel vision comes up fast…but…I feel…good.”  She allowed herself to meet his gaze, the concern in his eyes painfully obvious.  “How are you?”


            Ducky hadn’t expected the question and didn’t have an answer right away.  “Uhh…I’m okay.  I’m delighted beyond words that you’re okay.  Wondering if the pressure I used will leave you bruised,” concern washing from his eyes to his voice.


            Abby motioned him down to her on the bed and he obliged.  She wrapped him in a hug and kissed his temple.  She kept him wrapped up until she felt some of the tension melt away from him.  After a few minutes of silent reassurance, she started to kiss her way from his temple to the corner of his mouth.  Once at his lips, she forced her way into his mouth and she could almost taste the tension melt away from him.  Sliding her hands down to the waist of his pants she next pulled his undershirt free.  Sliding it up his chest, she traced her fingertips over his stomach and chest making him moan into her mouth. 


            Finally breaking the kiss, she helps Ducky take his undershirt off before he plunges his tongue back in her mouth, picking up where they had left off.  He found the zipper to her dress and was able to slide it one handed, opening the dress down to her naval.  Releasing the zipper from his grasp, he traced his fingers up the opening, over her sternum, and up to her shoulders.  With no more than a flick of the wrist, each strap fell freely off of her shoulders and left the dress to pile around Abby’s hips.  Without breaking the embrace, he rolls her onto her back once more, this time lowering himself on top of her, his hands roaming from her hips to her knees and back. 


            Even with him laying on top of her, Abby manages to snake her hands between them and undo Ducky’s belt, taking most of the composure she had not to rip it free from his pants.  Having slid it free finally, her fingers scramble to release the fly and shimmy the pants down over his hips, all the more she can reach.  Without needing to verbalize between them, they both end the kiss to remove the remainder of clothes they have on.  Abby, having less to remove, having already removed her panties in the bathroom earlier, adjusts the bedding so that Ducky can join her under it as soon as he is naked. 


            Tossing a pile of pants, socks, boxers, and suspenders to the floor with a thud, he pulled the sheet and comforter over both of them, placing himself over her again.  His mouth finds her nipple, rigid under his tongue.  Rolling his teeth over it, he is rewarded with a moan and her hands winding into his hair.  Keeping his mouth busy between both tits, his hand gives her ass a playful squeeze before sliding up to her clit, already poking out from her excitement.  Taking a nipple between his teeth and flicking his tongue over it, his thumb presses on her clit in tiny circles, two fingers gliding in below them.  He manages to coordinate his finger thrusts, thumb circles, and tongue flicks in time with each other.  The multiple erotic attacks cause Abby to writhe beneath him, noises all that she can manage to roll off her lips.  With his free hand, he finds his stiff dick in his fist and rolls the pre-cum from the tip down the shaft and back up.  


            “Please, Donald!  Need you...Gaaawwwdd…need you!” Abby gasps, pulling his head up for another oral invasion.  Pulling his lips away, Abby leaving a trailing bite to his lower, he sits back on his haunches.  Lifting her with both arms, Ducky positions Abby over his cock before wrapping her legs around himself.  Locking his left arm around and behind Abby, he slides her down on top of him, skewering her with one swift motion.  Abby throws her head back and lets out a shriek, but there is no doubt to him it is completely pleasure based.


            He begins stroking into her and she grinds their hips together to meet his thrusts.  From this angle he continues nipping and pulling on her nipples, licking up her breastbone. The air is a mix of low moans and gasps as she continues to ride him.  Finding her throat with his right hand again, Ducky pants out “Just…say…when.”


            Feeling her orgasm rising and her stomach tightening, Abby takes three more thrusts from him before belting out, “Now!”  Never breaking their connection, Ducky lays her on the bed as his hand finds its proper location yet again.  Grabbing ahold of her throat once more, he matches his thrusts to his five count.  Pulling back after the fifth thrust, he moves his hand from her neck to her clit and rubs furiously, lost in his own lust now. 


            Beneath him, Abby contorts and spews strings of incoherent words, her eyes fluttering.  As soon as he feels her tighten around his dick and watches her back arch up off the bed, he jams into her and empties himself within her for the second time that day.  His orgasm is so intense he actually cries out...”Aaaahhhhhhhhh!” the only sound he can make before he falls to the bed next to her. 


            Still struggling to get his breathing under control, Ducky regains some of his senses and rolls over to check Abby.  He is eternally relieved to see her smiling, eyes narrowed but open, working to slow her own breathing. 


            “Well…” he pants…”how was it?”


            “It…was…earth shattering…” she pants back at him, starting to giggle. “I feel…so high!”


            “That…is…the point…my dear.” He counters.


            Laying on his back, Ducky pulls Abby onto his chest as they both start to come back down from the sex rush.  A couple of minutes later, when they have both steadied their pulse and breathing, Abby attempts to climb over Ducky and out of the bed.  Ducky held onto her arm as she stood next to the bed.


            As soon as she was upright, Abby suddenly felt like ‘ice pick to the cerebellum’.  Grabbing her temples she doubled over and winced. 




            Ducky sat up in bed and grabbed his luggage, pulling out a bottle within seconds.


            “Here,” he hands her two pills and a small bottle of water.  “Take these and chug the water.  Tylenol 3s will help hopefully beat the headache before it settles in.”


            Abby does as instructed and leans over the bed for a few minutes until she can move again.  When she stands up without the weight of the world on her head, she heads to the bathroom to clean herself.  In her absence, Ducky pulls a new undershirt and set of boxers on, straightens his clothes, and straightens the bedding.  As he was going to go check on her, he hears the door open and she walks over to the dresser.  Having retrieved a pair of sleep shorts from the drawer, Abby slides into them and grabs Ducky’s discarded undershirt from his clothing pile. 


            “Mine,” she claims as she pulls it on and climbs into bed.  Ducky follows her into bed, pulling the covers over both of them before pulling her back onto his chest.  


            “Anything you want, love…all yours.”  He kisses her head before they both drift off to sleep. 




            A shrill sound shattered their sleep sometime in the seven o’clock hour.  Abby sat up in bed, her head immediately protesting, as she searched for the source of the sound.  Recognizing the harsh beat to be her ringtone, she scrambled over the half-awake doctor to get her phone from atop the dresser.  Without even looking at the number, she swiped it to answer.


            “Hello?” she rubbed her temples as she listened.  Ducky was now sitting up in the bed, putting his glasses on, waiting to hear about the call.


            “Gibbs, do you have any idea what time it is!?” she scolded him.  “Really…yeah, no, I believe you.  I can be in the lab in an hour.  K…bye.”  Abby put the phone back on the dresser and looked pouty towards Ducky.  He knew as soon as she identified the caller what it meant.


            “Got a body, don’t we?” He asked.  She nodded her head. 


            Another sound broke out in the room. 


            “My phone,” Ducky said.  “It’s in my pants pocket,” he pointed at his pile of clothes.  Abby retrieved it for him and handed it over, both knowing who was calling.


            “Jethro,” Ducky answered.  “Calling on a Saturday morning must mean one thing…uh huh….oh…okay, well have Mr. Palmer meet me at the garage in an hour.  Okay, Bye Jethro.”


            Ducky snapped his flip phone shut, running his fingers through his hair.  “We will have to pick back up after this case, my love.”


            “So Duck-Man…who tells Jethro about us?”  Abby asked as she leaned on the bed. 


            Ducky laughed.  “Easy!  You!  He isn’t likely to half-kill you if you tell him.  Me, well…I would rather not find out!  I think I shall inform Mr. Palmer instead.”


            “Oh sure, leave me the hard ones!” Abby lightly punched his arm.  “I will tell Gibbs and McGee…everyone else will find out either from big mouth Jimmy or big mouth Timmy.”




            Jimmy lost the phalange flip this morning and had to drive back to NCIS from Alexandria.  Normally the drive would only take about thirty minutes, but with the state of the ME van it would likely be closer to 45.  It had been Jimmy’s day to pick the radio station is well, not that it mattered because the radio wouldn’t turn on today.


            “Sorry your weekend got cut short Dr. Mallard.  Almost seems like a waste for that personal day yesterday, huh?” With no radio, he had no problems filling the air with small talk or large talk.


            “No, I wouldn’t say it was a waste at all, Mr. Palmer.” Ducky replied with a grin.  “In fact, I rather enjoyed the time off.”


            “That’s good!  What did you do…if, you don’t mind me asking.”


            “Would you believe me if I told you I acquired a…fairly permanent female companion?”


            Jimmy was torn between glancing at Dr. Mallard and watching the road.  “Really!?” His voice getting higher.  It always did that when he was excited or nervous.  “You got a girlfriend!?”


            “Oh, the term girlfriend is so…underwhelming, for what we have Mr. Palmer…but for lack of a better word, I suppose you are correct.”


            “Do I know her?  Have I met her before, I mean.” Jimmy stammered.


            Ducky chuckled and tried to prepare for the reaction to come.  “I believe you have met her, Mr. Palmer.  Her name is Abigail Sciuto.”


            Suddenly, the ME van lurched to the shoulder of the road, dropping its front passenger wheel to the gravel, and jerked back onto the roadway with an audible squawk.


            “MR. PALMER!” Ducky yelled, “Please!  I just started this relationship, I would like to live it longer than one day!”


            “S-sorry Doctor…I…I…uh…I was caught of guard when you said, Abby…you said Abby, right?” he stammered.


            “I noticed, Mr. Palmer.  Please try and not kill us before we reach our destination.” Ducky took a moment to straighten his hat, then added with a grin…”and yes, I did say, Abby.”




            Abby had been at the lab for almost two hours before McGee had brought her the evidence from the crime scene.  She had already worked her way through her first caf-pow and was not happy to see him empty handed…in that sense. 


            “Really McGee, no peace offering?” 


            “Don’t really have any free hands here, Abby.” Tim chided as he unloaded two armfuls of evidence containers onto her table.  Abby didn’t respond, but started looking through the bags…bloody paper, unknown goo, cigarette butt…lovely lab day, she thought to herself.


            “So…uh…do you, feel better, today?” Tim asked sheepishly.


            “Oh yeah, Tim!  Totally better, the day off REALLY helped!” she smiled back at him.  She knew she should tell him, but if he found out before Gibbs then she would be in for it.


            “Oh, okay.  Well, I’m glad!” Tim added.


            With a familiar hiss, the lab doors opened and Gibbs walked in, caf-pow in hand.


            “McGee!  Don’t you have plates to run!?” He barked.


            “Yeah Boss, on it!” He scurried past Gibbs and out to the elevator. 


            Abby held out her hands for the fresh caf-pow but Gibbs held it out of reach.


            “Gibbs!” she protested.


            “How did things go yesterday, Abs?” He asked, remarkably calmer than he had addressed McGee.


            “Oh, right…that.”  Abby bit her lip and looked away.  Gibbs’ silent stare never faltering.


            “I got all day, Abs.  Might as well tell me.”


            Looking back sheepishly at him, she finally made eye contact. “It went great Gibbs, really, really great!”


            Sensing the hesitation in her voice, he prompted…”But?”


            “But,” she started pacing back and forth, hands moving as she tried to piece her thoughts together. Finally, she decided it would be easier to sign than to say. 


            Holding her hands, palms out towards Gibbs, he knew she was choosing to sign.  She nervously signed “It's'D'...we decided to date. I don't want you to get mad at him.


            Gibbs sat her caf-pow on her desk to free up his own hands.  “Why would I get mad?” he signed.


            Abby signed back, “Because, we sort of...work together...

            Gibbs looking more and more confused signed a simple question…”Who?”  When he didn’t get a response, he signed it again…”Who!?


            Abby drew her hand to her mouth and made a sign they both new right away.  Her fingers and thumb made into a beak that quacked up and down...and she added the sign for “y” at the end.


            Gibbs verified the name by signing out the letters “D-U-C-K-Y?


            When Abby signed “yes”, Gibbs turned to head for Autopsy.


            “Don’t kill him Gibbs, be nice!” she pleaded as he walked toward the doors to the lab. 


            Gibbs called out behind him, “Not gonna kill him, Abs.  Just gonna talk.”





            Ducky had just changed into his scrubs when the doors to Autopsy hissed open. 


            “Ah, Jethro, I’m afraid you are too early, even for my most faint of conjectures about the late Petty Officer…I haven’t even begun the external Autopsy yet.”


            “Palmer,” Gibbs half-barked, “Get me a cup of coffee.”


            Jimmy, noticeably nervous still around Gibbs, asked “sorry, agent Gibbs?”


            Gibbs kept his eyes on Ducky…”Get me a cup of coffee.  And not that crap from the cafeteria…from the shop on the corner.”


            Jimmy looked at Dr. Mallard for approval before he left.  He got the head nod he needed, and rushed out the doors toward the elevator.


            Gibbs closed the distance between them in his silent, brooding way. Ducky did not retreat, but was glad when Jethro stopped on the opposite side of the table from him.


            “Ah…I can probably hazard a guess at why you’re really here.” Ducky swallowed.  “Abigail informed you about our…situation?”


            “Mmm hmmmm” was all Gibbs added.


            “Well, I don’t know what else I could possibly add the news at this point Jethro, so if you have something to add, please do so.  The Petty Office requires my attention.”


            Gibbs tried to keep his stone façade steady, but it proved too difficult under the scrutinizing glare of his longtime friend.  A smile cracked through, followed by mutual laughs.  As Gibbs took his leave, he turned to let Ducky know…


            “Hey Duck…you hurt her, you’re gonna have me to answer to.”


            Gibbs took his leave and Ducky took a moment to laugh at the way his life was playing out currently. Leaning down towards the dead Petty Officer, he whispered, “And don’t think he doesn’t mean that, young lad.”




            Gibbs walked out of the elevator and headed straight for his desk.  Once there, he demanded an update on all information related to the dead Petty Office.


            “Dinozzo!” He barked.


            “No hits on the BOLO for the car that fled the scene, Boss,” Tony replied obediently.


            “Ziva!” Gibbs fired for the next one in line.


            “The Petty Officers C.O. and parents are both on their way here, neither of them knows if he had a girlfriend.” She answered, less obediently than Tony, but still strong.


            “McGee!” He turned to look at the agent across the walk from him.


            “Got his home address from running the plates, was waiting to see who you wanted to go search it.  Also, looked into his social media and phone records, no link to a girlfriend that I can find either…Boss.” Tim swallowed hard, always a bit nervous to be on the receiving end of Gibbs’ stare. 


            “DiNozzo, Ziva, take the Petty Officers house…now!” He added, causing both of them to grab their gear bags and run for the elevator.”  Looking back to his computer, he could feel the stare McGee was giving and spoke without looking up from his work.


            “You got something you wanna say, McGee, say it.”

            Caught off guard, McGee stammered through his current thought process.  “Uh, I was...just…uh…have you talked to Abby today, Boss?”


            “Yeah...” Gibbs replied, still not looking up from his work.


            “Did she seem…ok?” Tim fumbled again.


            Finally looking up from his work and staring at McGee, he answered.  “She’s fine, McGee.  Seems whatever was bothering her, Ducky was able to fix it.”


           “Ducky?” he questioned?


            “Go, McGee, talk to Abby…make sure you find out something about the case while you’re at it!” He called as the young agent bounded for the elevator.  Gibbs shook his head and grinned.  He's old, McGee, not dead.

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