FIC: House Call - Willow/NCIS - tth100
Jun. 24th, 2007 12:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lyl_devilTitle: House Call (Willow/NCIS)
Author: Lyl (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lyl_devil)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to either show. I just like to play in their sandboxes occasionally.
Prompt table -> HERE
Prompt – 041: Doctor
Words: 1180
Summary: Ducky makes an unexpected house call.
Thanks to my lovely betas – steph0202 and idontlikegravy.
~!~
Ducky shifted uncomfortably in front of the door, wondering if he should knock harder. It was times like these that he wished Gibbs would invest in an actual doorbell, which could be heard all through the house, even that dark basement he spent too much time in.
He raised his fist again, already assembling the rather irate lecture he would deliver to the other man, when the door opened and all his thoughts fled him.
Instead of the familiar face of his old friend, Donald Mallard was presented with a rather young – and rather pretty – red head. She looked vaguely familiar though he couldn't place her, but she apparently knew him. She froze for an instant, eyes going wide, mouth opening as if to say something, before slamming her mouth shut with a distinct clack.
“Dr..Dr Mallard,” she greeted, seeming to pull herself together quickly. “What are you doing here?”
She blushed as she suddenly realized how that sounded, and Ducky let out a delighted chuckle.
“I came by to see Agent Gibbs. This is the right house?” he said, making it sound like a statement.
“Oh, yes – he's just upstairs,” she said, blinking up at him as he stood on the front porch.
Silence stretched between them for several long seconds.
“May I come in?” he asked gently, trying desperately to keep the smile off his face. Something told him it wouldn't be appreciated.
Her face flooded with red once again as she hastily stepped aside and motioned him in.
“I'll just....get him,” she said, moving around him to practically run up the stairs.
Ducky took the time to try and figure out where he knew her from – and what her relation to Jethro was. He knew the man enough to know that she wouldn't be in his house, answering his door, unless she lived here. And Jethro didn't invite just anyone to stay with him.
He took a look around the house, noticing the differences since he was here last. There were more jackets in the closet, more shoes – female shoes – next to the door, and extra sets of keys on the key rack. Moving further from the entryway, Ducky took a look into the living room, and was surprised to see a laptop and several files scattered across the coffee table and couch. The blue flowered mug next to the laptop had traces of a dark liquid he was fairly certain wasn't coffee.
The scene was most definitely not Gibbs, especially the laptop. The man only used computers at work because he had to, he wouldn't willingly bring one home if he could avoid it. Ducky's intuition was telling him that this was all the work of the young woman who was obviously living with Gibbs, but for the life of him, Ducky couldn't figure out who she was.
The sound of bodies moving down the stairs pulled his attention away from the odd scene of working-at-home. Turning to greet his friend, Ducky noticed that Gibbs had recently gotten out of the shower, his hair still damp from the water. He didn't blame him – after spending that many hours inside a Hazmat suit, he always needed to feel clean again. It was an interesting psychosomatic reaction, he's always thought – how the mind still felt 'contaminated' or 'dirty' after spending time in a sealed environment. The conscious, logical mind knew that the contamination or infectious agent was on the outside, but that didn't stop the unconscious mind from demanding a cleansing.
“Ducky, what brings you by?” asked Gibbs.
“I thought you could use some company,” he told him, holding up the bottle of eleven year old scotch he'd brought with him. “Though perhaps I was mistaken?”
It had become an unspoken tradition over the years, that Ducky would show up with an excellent bottle of alcohol after a difficult case that hit closer to home for Gibbs, and the two of them would proceed to plough through the bottle. They would both regret it the next day, but that didn't stop them the next time.
Gibbs just looked at him closely, and Ducky was sure the other man saw that this wasn't simply a tradition for him today. Ducky sometimes needed the companionship as much as Gibbs did, and this was one of those times.
“Nah. Come on in,” he said, motioning towards the kitchen with his head.
Ducky hesitated, looking pointedly at the red head behind Gibbs who was looking slightly nervous.
“Oh, Ducky, this is Willow, my niece,” he introduced, moving out of the way was Ducky offered his hand, trying to hide his surprise. “This is Dr Mallard.”
“I know, Uncle Jethro,” she replied with an eye roll that made Ducky smile.
“Have we met before?” he asked, that niggling sense that he knew her was growing.
“Willow's the summer IT intern at NCIS,” Gibbs said. Anyone who didn't know Gibbs-speak, wouldn't detect the note of smug pride in his voice, but Ducky was well versed in the language. So was his niece, apparently, as she blushed slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“So that would be your equipment in the other room,” Ducky said, handing Gibbs the bottle so he could remove his coat.
“I can work somewhere else...” she offered, blushing slightly in embarrassment.
“I don't see why you're working right now, anyway. You're off until Monday,” Gibbs said, the mild annoyance coming through loud and clear.
“I'm on call this weekend,” she said, sounding resigned to the argument. Ducky didn't doubt for a minute that they'd had this conversation several times today, though from the looks of it, Willow had been the victor each time. “Michael's sick, and all the others are too freaked out to volunteer, right now.”
Ducky raised a brow at Gibbs, wondering for the first time how the others at NCIS had dealt with the recent biological attack in their workplace. By the look on Gibbs' face, not well. If the IT department was that nervous, then other departments were the same.
Willow must have seen the frown on Gibbs' face, because she added, “Don't worry. If I'm called in, you're driving me anyway, so you can glare them all into submission for me while I fix their problems. Ok?”
The smile on her face said she knew she'd won, and Ducky barely held back a chuckle. It was rare to see Gibbs interacting in this way, and it was refreshing.
“Willow – you wouldn't happen to be the same one that Abigail's been talking about?” Ducky asked suddenly, as several pieces slotted in to place.
“Uh-huh,” she smiled, nodding in acknowledgement.
“Go back to work,” said Gibbs, “We'll be in the kitchen.”
Willow just gave him a look, before heading back into the living room, leaving the two men alone.
Gibbs motioned to the kitchen with the bottle, and Ducky took the invitation, following behind him.
He stopped at the doorway to the kitchen, as something occurred to him.
“Jethro, you never mentioned you had any family!”
END
Author: Lyl (
lyl_devil)Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to either show. I just like to play in their sandboxes occasionally.
Prompt table -> HERE
Prompt – 041: Doctor
Words: 1180
Summary: Ducky makes an unexpected house call.
Thanks to my lovely betas – steph0202 and idontlikegravy.
~!~
Ducky shifted uncomfortably in front of the door, wondering if he should knock harder. It was times like these that he wished Gibbs would invest in an actual doorbell, which could be heard all through the house, even that dark basement he spent too much time in.
He raised his fist again, already assembling the rather irate lecture he would deliver to the other man, when the door opened and all his thoughts fled him.
Instead of the familiar face of his old friend, Donald Mallard was presented with a rather young – and rather pretty – red head. She looked vaguely familiar though he couldn't place her, but she apparently knew him. She froze for an instant, eyes going wide, mouth opening as if to say something, before slamming her mouth shut with a distinct clack.
“Dr..Dr Mallard,” she greeted, seeming to pull herself together quickly. “What are you doing here?”
She blushed as she suddenly realized how that sounded, and Ducky let out a delighted chuckle.
“I came by to see Agent Gibbs. This is the right house?” he said, making it sound like a statement.
“Oh, yes – he's just upstairs,” she said, blinking up at him as he stood on the front porch.
Silence stretched between them for several long seconds.
“May I come in?” he asked gently, trying desperately to keep the smile off his face. Something told him it wouldn't be appreciated.
Her face flooded with red once again as she hastily stepped aside and motioned him in.
“I'll just....get him,” she said, moving around him to practically run up the stairs.
Ducky took the time to try and figure out where he knew her from – and what her relation to Jethro was. He knew the man enough to know that she wouldn't be in his house, answering his door, unless she lived here. And Jethro didn't invite just anyone to stay with him.
He took a look around the house, noticing the differences since he was here last. There were more jackets in the closet, more shoes – female shoes – next to the door, and extra sets of keys on the key rack. Moving further from the entryway, Ducky took a look into the living room, and was surprised to see a laptop and several files scattered across the coffee table and couch. The blue flowered mug next to the laptop had traces of a dark liquid he was fairly certain wasn't coffee.
The scene was most definitely not Gibbs, especially the laptop. The man only used computers at work because he had to, he wouldn't willingly bring one home if he could avoid it. Ducky's intuition was telling him that this was all the work of the young woman who was obviously living with Gibbs, but for the life of him, Ducky couldn't figure out who she was.
The sound of bodies moving down the stairs pulled his attention away from the odd scene of working-at-home. Turning to greet his friend, Ducky noticed that Gibbs had recently gotten out of the shower, his hair still damp from the water. He didn't blame him – after spending that many hours inside a Hazmat suit, he always needed to feel clean again. It was an interesting psychosomatic reaction, he's always thought – how the mind still felt 'contaminated' or 'dirty' after spending time in a sealed environment. The conscious, logical mind knew that the contamination or infectious agent was on the outside, but that didn't stop the unconscious mind from demanding a cleansing.
“Ducky, what brings you by?” asked Gibbs.
“I thought you could use some company,” he told him, holding up the bottle of eleven year old scotch he'd brought with him. “Though perhaps I was mistaken?”
It had become an unspoken tradition over the years, that Ducky would show up with an excellent bottle of alcohol after a difficult case that hit closer to home for Gibbs, and the two of them would proceed to plough through the bottle. They would both regret it the next day, but that didn't stop them the next time.
Gibbs just looked at him closely, and Ducky was sure the other man saw that this wasn't simply a tradition for him today. Ducky sometimes needed the companionship as much as Gibbs did, and this was one of those times.
“Nah. Come on in,” he said, motioning towards the kitchen with his head.
Ducky hesitated, looking pointedly at the red head behind Gibbs who was looking slightly nervous.
“Oh, Ducky, this is Willow, my niece,” he introduced, moving out of the way was Ducky offered his hand, trying to hide his surprise. “This is Dr Mallard.”
“I know, Uncle Jethro,” she replied with an eye roll that made Ducky smile.
“Have we met before?” he asked, that niggling sense that he knew her was growing.
“Willow's the summer IT intern at NCIS,” Gibbs said. Anyone who didn't know Gibbs-speak, wouldn't detect the note of smug pride in his voice, but Ducky was well versed in the language. So was his niece, apparently, as she blushed slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“So that would be your equipment in the other room,” Ducky said, handing Gibbs the bottle so he could remove his coat.
“I can work somewhere else...” she offered, blushing slightly in embarrassment.
“I don't see why you're working right now, anyway. You're off until Monday,” Gibbs said, the mild annoyance coming through loud and clear.
“I'm on call this weekend,” she said, sounding resigned to the argument. Ducky didn't doubt for a minute that they'd had this conversation several times today, though from the looks of it, Willow had been the victor each time. “Michael's sick, and all the others are too freaked out to volunteer, right now.”
Ducky raised a brow at Gibbs, wondering for the first time how the others at NCIS had dealt with the recent biological attack in their workplace. By the look on Gibbs' face, not well. If the IT department was that nervous, then other departments were the same.
Willow must have seen the frown on Gibbs' face, because she added, “Don't worry. If I'm called in, you're driving me anyway, so you can glare them all into submission for me while I fix their problems. Ok?”
The smile on her face said she knew she'd won, and Ducky barely held back a chuckle. It was rare to see Gibbs interacting in this way, and it was refreshing.
“Willow – you wouldn't happen to be the same one that Abigail's been talking about?” Ducky asked suddenly, as several pieces slotted in to place.
“Uh-huh,” she smiled, nodding in acknowledgement.
“Go back to work,” said Gibbs, “We'll be in the kitchen.”
Willow just gave him a look, before heading back into the living room, leaving the two men alone.
Gibbs motioned to the kitchen with the bottle, and Ducky took the invitation, following behind him.
He stopped at the doorway to the kitchen, as something occurred to him.
“Jethro, you never mentioned you had any family!”
END
