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ncisficathonTitle: Fraternity
Author: lukecanwaltz88
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: None
Characters: Ziva, Ducky
Warnings: none
Spoilers: none
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship, light hurt/comfort.
Author's Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rebecca_in_blue to fill a prompt of "Ziva and Ducky friendship" :) This takes place sometime in early season 7. No specific timeframe, just sometime in that early season.
Beta by: My beta does not have an LJ but he is very much appreciated and loved. His brainstorming and his idea-bouncing sessions were so helpful. :)
Word Count: 1112
Disclaimer: Not mine. Have never been. Won't ever be.
Summary: Ducky is the only one who knows Ziva is just fine.
There was something about watching Ducky work that Ziva always loved. She was surely not the first one to note the care and compassion he showed every single day, even though the people with whom he worked were mostly deceased. She often escaped to autopsy to take a moment away, standing quietly in the corner while he listened to the stories the bodies told.
Ducky inspected the fingernails of the victim, taking samples as he went. “Ah, yes, Corporal Michaels, you certainly did put up quite a fight, didn’t you? I would expect nothing less of a United States Marine. You’re a rare breed; the perfect mix between determination, strength...”
“And black coffee.” Ziva smiled, approaching Ducky and his victim.
“Ah, Ziva, I should know by now that you are quite stealthy. And yet, you startled me. I didn’t even see you there.”
There was a delayed crash sound from the other corner of the room as the two spoke. As Ducky paid no attention, Ziva followed suit. She pressed her palms against the cool metal of the autopsy table, shifting her weight to lean slightly against it. “You were very deep in concentration. I did not want to interrupt. Sorry to startle you.”
“You are always welcome down here, as deep in concentration as I may be. Have you found any more information about the whereabouts of our friend Corporal Michaels’ wife?”
“We have not found anything yet. We are still looking.”
Ducky put down his scalpel and motioned for Ziva to follow him. They walked across the room, and Ducky took a seat while Ziva stood nearby, hugging her arms to her chest as though she were standing beneath a vent blasting cool air. She noted the look of concern on his face and turned her gaze to her shoes.
Certainly she had been through a lot these past few months, but she was still expected to do a job. Everyone asking her how she was doing was simply distracting from that job. She knew that in order to continue working at NCIS, she must be a functioning member of the team. Not a distraction, not a sideshow, not… not anything but professional.
“Ziva—”
“Ducky, I am fine.” Ziva did not look up, tracing the patterns of the tile with her eyes.
Ducky shook his head, letting out a stifled chuckle. “I would never doubt that, Agent David. You are one of the most resilient people I have ever met.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I assure you—” Ziva stopped for a moment, looking up to make eye contact with Ducky. That was not the response she was expecting. It caught her off guard a little, hearing something other than you really should talk to someone or If you need anything, I’ll be here.
“You see, Ziva, you and Corporal Michaels here are quite similar. You are both soldiers.” Ducky clenched his fists as he spoke, gesticulating with enthusiasm. “While you and he were brought up in two different families, two different countries, and two different situations, you were taught similar values. Duty, honor, respect, perseverance.”
She was unsure where he was going with this. “Yes, I suppose we were.”
Ducky paced as he continued, eventually making his way to the autopsy table once again. “You two were also born with the same fortitude and strength. Your willingness to do what you do, despite the fact that it may land you here…” He motioned to the table and trailed off. “I realize that you have had some difficulties of late. But I also know that you, not unlike our Corporal, here, or perhaps even Agent Gibbs, do not need someone to dote upon you.”
“Why does no one understand that? Why does everyone keep asking me if I am okay?” Ziva let her frustration show as her tone became more frustrated, but then caught herself, quieting as she let the sentence hang.
“Because even though they are agents, they are not soldiers. They’re looking from the outside in, not knowing how to help or if they can.”
“They have made the same commitment to this country and to this organization, have they not?”
“It’s quite similar, yes.”
“Then why do they treat me like I am a child?”
Ducky shook his head. “They do not treat you like a child, but rather, as one of their own. As soldiers, you and Corporal Michaels value a particular trait very highly. And that is loyalty. You protect those around you, and you most certainly do not wish them ill. With that loyalty comes fraternity. As the Marine Corps are a fraternity, one without the keg parties, mind you, NCIS is also a fraternity.”
Ducky was always able to frame things in a way that made sense to Ziva. The analogies he used, the carefully chosen vocabulary words, and the genuine care with which he expressed his thoughts was a comfort. It was not an attempt to placate her, or to force her into some sort of catharsis. It was simply a conversation. A conversation with someone wiser than she, who was able to communicate the sentiments of the team perfectly.
There was a silence, followed by yet another crash from the other end of the room. “Uh, guys? I know you’re having a psychological breakthrough, or some sort of bonding session, or a pep talk or whatever, but… a little help, here?”
Palmer’s voice was at least an octave above normal, distressed and anxious-sounding. He was standing by an half-opened cabinet and holding boxes of various medical supplies as he attempted to gather some loose supplies with his foot, dragging it and guiding the supplies to a central location on the floor.
Ducky and Ziva started toward the struggling Palmer. Ducky gave Ziva’s arm a gentle pat as they walked. “Some members of our fraternity can challenge us at times, but as they are there for us, we must be there for them. And we must understand where they are coming from, especially when it is most difficult. It sounds as though just as you wish for them to attempt to understand your need for privacy and space, they wish for you to let them know how you’re doing.”
Ziva opened the cabinet and took some of the supplies off the tower Palmer was holding. Ducky bent down and attempted to collect the supplies that had fallen on the floor. “Mr. Palmer, what on earth happened here?”
“Well, Dr. Mallard, Ziva startled me, too, and I… you two were having a moment, and…”
Ducky smiled. “Let’s get this cleaned up so we can attend to Corporal Matthews, shall we?”
Author: lukecanwaltz88
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: None
Characters: Ziva, Ducky
Warnings: none
Spoilers: none
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship, light hurt/comfort.
Author's Notes: Written for
rebecca_in_blue to fill a prompt of "Ziva and Ducky friendship" :) This takes place sometime in early season 7. No specific timeframe, just sometime in that early season.Beta by: My beta does not have an LJ but he is very much appreciated and loved. His brainstorming and his idea-bouncing sessions were so helpful. :)
Word Count: 1112
Disclaimer: Not mine. Have never been. Won't ever be.
Summary: Ducky is the only one who knows Ziva is just fine.
There was something about watching Ducky work that Ziva always loved. She was surely not the first one to note the care and compassion he showed every single day, even though the people with whom he worked were mostly deceased. She often escaped to autopsy to take a moment away, standing quietly in the corner while he listened to the stories the bodies told.
Ducky inspected the fingernails of the victim, taking samples as he went. “Ah, yes, Corporal Michaels, you certainly did put up quite a fight, didn’t you? I would expect nothing less of a United States Marine. You’re a rare breed; the perfect mix between determination, strength...”
“And black coffee.” Ziva smiled, approaching Ducky and his victim.
“Ah, Ziva, I should know by now that you are quite stealthy. And yet, you startled me. I didn’t even see you there.”
There was a delayed crash sound from the other corner of the room as the two spoke. As Ducky paid no attention, Ziva followed suit. She pressed her palms against the cool metal of the autopsy table, shifting her weight to lean slightly against it. “You were very deep in concentration. I did not want to interrupt. Sorry to startle you.”
“You are always welcome down here, as deep in concentration as I may be. Have you found any more information about the whereabouts of our friend Corporal Michaels’ wife?”
“We have not found anything yet. We are still looking.”
Ducky put down his scalpel and motioned for Ziva to follow him. They walked across the room, and Ducky took a seat while Ziva stood nearby, hugging her arms to her chest as though she were standing beneath a vent blasting cool air. She noted the look of concern on his face and turned her gaze to her shoes.
Certainly she had been through a lot these past few months, but she was still expected to do a job. Everyone asking her how she was doing was simply distracting from that job. She knew that in order to continue working at NCIS, she must be a functioning member of the team. Not a distraction, not a sideshow, not… not anything but professional.
“Ziva—”
“Ducky, I am fine.” Ziva did not look up, tracing the patterns of the tile with her eyes.
Ducky shook his head, letting out a stifled chuckle. “I would never doubt that, Agent David. You are one of the most resilient people I have ever met.”
“Thank you for your concern, but I assure you—” Ziva stopped for a moment, looking up to make eye contact with Ducky. That was not the response she was expecting. It caught her off guard a little, hearing something other than you really should talk to someone or If you need anything, I’ll be here.
“You see, Ziva, you and Corporal Michaels here are quite similar. You are both soldiers.” Ducky clenched his fists as he spoke, gesticulating with enthusiasm. “While you and he were brought up in two different families, two different countries, and two different situations, you were taught similar values. Duty, honor, respect, perseverance.”
She was unsure where he was going with this. “Yes, I suppose we were.”
Ducky paced as he continued, eventually making his way to the autopsy table once again. “You two were also born with the same fortitude and strength. Your willingness to do what you do, despite the fact that it may land you here…” He motioned to the table and trailed off. “I realize that you have had some difficulties of late. But I also know that you, not unlike our Corporal, here, or perhaps even Agent Gibbs, do not need someone to dote upon you.”
“Why does no one understand that? Why does everyone keep asking me if I am okay?” Ziva let her frustration show as her tone became more frustrated, but then caught herself, quieting as she let the sentence hang.
“Because even though they are agents, they are not soldiers. They’re looking from the outside in, not knowing how to help or if they can.”
“They have made the same commitment to this country and to this organization, have they not?”
“It’s quite similar, yes.”
“Then why do they treat me like I am a child?”
Ducky shook his head. “They do not treat you like a child, but rather, as one of their own. As soldiers, you and Corporal Michaels value a particular trait very highly. And that is loyalty. You protect those around you, and you most certainly do not wish them ill. With that loyalty comes fraternity. As the Marine Corps are a fraternity, one without the keg parties, mind you, NCIS is also a fraternity.”
Ducky was always able to frame things in a way that made sense to Ziva. The analogies he used, the carefully chosen vocabulary words, and the genuine care with which he expressed his thoughts was a comfort. It was not an attempt to placate her, or to force her into some sort of catharsis. It was simply a conversation. A conversation with someone wiser than she, who was able to communicate the sentiments of the team perfectly.
There was a silence, followed by yet another crash from the other end of the room. “Uh, guys? I know you’re having a psychological breakthrough, or some sort of bonding session, or a pep talk or whatever, but… a little help, here?”
Palmer’s voice was at least an octave above normal, distressed and anxious-sounding. He was standing by an half-opened cabinet and holding boxes of various medical supplies as he attempted to gather some loose supplies with his foot, dragging it and guiding the supplies to a central location on the floor.
Ducky and Ziva started toward the struggling Palmer. Ducky gave Ziva’s arm a gentle pat as they walked. “Some members of our fraternity can challenge us at times, but as they are there for us, we must be there for them. And we must understand where they are coming from, especially when it is most difficult. It sounds as though just as you wish for them to attempt to understand your need for privacy and space, they wish for you to let them know how you’re doing.”
Ziva opened the cabinet and took some of the supplies off the tower Palmer was holding. Ducky bent down and attempted to collect the supplies that had fallen on the floor. “Mr. Palmer, what on earth happened here?”
“Well, Dr. Mallard, Ziva startled me, too, and I… you two were having a moment, and…”
Ducky smiled. “Let’s get this cleaned up so we can attend to Corporal Matthews, shall we?”
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