Dancing Around for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
becky_monster
Aug. 15th, 2007 12:31 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
periwinkle27.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ncisficathonTitle: Dancing Around
Author:periwinkle27
Written for:becky_monster
Archive: sure, just let me know
Pairings: Tony/Gibbs, Ducky/Abby
Rating: probably an R
Warnings/Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: I do not own anything and am not getting paid
Word Count: 7194
Prompt: A combination of two prompts, more or less, which I’ve summarized for space:
#1: Gibbs, Di Nozzo, friendship OR slash (first time or established)
#2: We know Ducky can dance (Heartbreak #208), so he takes Abby dancing.
Which she enjoys immensely and it becomes a regular 'thing' for them. I'll love you forever if you can work New SkoolDoctor Who references in too.
Summary: “Dancing” can mean many things.
Author’s note: Many thanks totoomuchfandom for her help. I could not have written the one scene without her. Also to ingenius_inc for her comments and rainsquall for the beta job. I did some rewriting after rainsquall’s hard work – all errors are mine.
Tony kept secrets. His fellow NCIS employees accepted the image he projected: the one of the over-confident, over-grown frat boy, slightly goofy, although they also recognized that he was a good agent. However, behind that image hid a much more complex, highly insecure soul with gradations of private yearnings and layers of buried memories and sorrows. He had found that appearing to be open and voluble made people accept him at face value, and generally they didn’t delve into what he had said long enough to realize that while he had talked a lot it had all been a smoke screen and he hadn’t really said anything of substance about himself. He used volubility to conceal, rather than inform.
So he clung to his image like a remora clings to a shark, and kept his needs and hurts concealed somewhere deep inside his psyche. He preferred it that way; in Tony’s experience, letting others know of his needs was a sure way to bring trouble and heartbreak and he had had more then enough of that in his childhood – he didn’t need it in his adult life also. So,Tony kept his secrets and he buried them far inside himself so that he didn’t have to think about them.
He had slipped up once, and let one secret out, but it was to Abby, and he knew she wouldn’t use it against him or tell Kate or Probie. God forbid if she ever did; he didn’t think he could face the teasing of the team once they found out. As secrets went, it wasn’t a big one, but still…
He had been down in Abby’s lab, just making small talk while he waited for her to finish a test that Gibbs needed the results of yesterday. It was nice sometimes to be with someone who was just a friend, and didn’t expect anything more from him. Asking what he thought would be an innocent question, he said, “Do you have any exciting plans for tonight?” not realizing that he had just reached a major turning point in his life with those simple words. Looking back later, he wished that life had road signs so that you knew when you were at a crossroads, instead of having fate come up and slap you in the face when you weren’t looking, because he certainly hadn’t seen this one coming.
“Well,” said Abby with a little less bounce than usual, “I usually go ballroom dancing on Wednesdays, but my usual partner isn’t able to come tonight, so I guess I’ll be missing it.”
Not thinking, Tony replied “I like ballroom dancing myself,” and just like that, his life turned a corner, although he didn’t notice it at the time because he was too busy recovering from 120 pounds of Goth who had thrown herself into his arms, shrieking “Oh that’s wonderful! You can come with me tonight!”
Tony tried to backtrack, but he knew it was too late as he’d already said the words, and all he could do was to minimize the damage. Sighing, and trying to detach Abby enough that he could breathe and talk without his lungs being crushed to death, he capitulated. “All right, but we have to go where no one we know will see us.”
“No problemo,” Abby said. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
And just like that, it started. They went dancing every week that they could, going to a multitude of places so that people at NCIS wouldn’t learn about it, just having fun, enjoying the break from the stresses of work. Because they moved around they ended up doing all sorts of dancing – jitterbug one week, the twist the next, ballroom another. Tony occasionally spared a thought for Abby’s former partner and wondered what had happened to him, but truthfully, he did enjoy the dancing and Abby was very good, she didn’t expect to go out somewhere and have sex afterwards, and she was comfortable. He found he could talk to her and tell her some of his deeper secrets. She never judged, only gave advice if he asked for it, and in return for that he would help her sort out her love life and the various men she was dating. They exchanged confidences, some of which surprised the other person, but they never remarked upon any shock they felt. On their ballroom dance nights, holding each other in their arms, they were in a little cocoon, separated from the world, insulated from everyone else and somehow it seemed all right to talk about things they would never have shared with any other human. He told her one night how he had a thing for Gibbs, but that Gibbs was so self-righteously a Marine that he knew nothing would come of it; she told him another night that she thought Ducky was kind of sexy and how she loved his accent. That revelation astounded Tony for a few minutes, but upon thinking about it, he could sorta understand the attraction – Ducky and Abby shared a passion for science and forensics, Ducky was in the habit of holding Abby when she needed comforting, or sharing hugs when Ducky needed them. He spent a few moments imagining Ducky’s reaction, and decided that it would tend more towards “delighted” than “doubting” and urged her to tell the ME, but she was reluctant. She had a feeling that Ducky regarded her as if he were her uncle, and even more so, she was afraid of destroying their working relationship, which Tony could certainly sympathize with, because wasn’t that one of the things that was keeping him from telling Gibbs how he felt? Along with a fear of being punched, sandpapered to death and demoted so fast that he would feel like he was on a free-falling elevator. So they clung to each other and to their fantasies and no one else was any the wiser.
-/-/-
It was one of the nights when they planned to go dancing, ballroom that week, and Tony was watching the clock -- he was eager to get out of work and grab something to eat before meeting Abby. It had been a slow week; about the most exciting thing to come his way had been an FBI request for assistance in locating a Marine named Perkins who was suspected of drug dealing and had jumped ship. Kate and Probie were out in the field following leads and Tony was kinda wishing he were out there too, enjoying how the sun shone on the leaves as they turned many colors. Suddenly Tony’s thoughts were interrupted as he realized that Gibbs had stood up, thrown his jacket on, and was barking out “DiNozzo!” Moreover, from the look on Gibbs’ face it wasn’t the first time he had said it.
Tony jumped up so quickly he nearly bumped into Gibbs’ coffee. He blanched, thinking that if he spilled the coffee he would probably never get to talk to Gibbs again as he’d probably end up some place like Alaska. “Yeah, boss?” Tony was racing across the floor, putting his jacket on as he ran, trying to keep Gibbs from getting in the elevator without him.
“Got a new body. You’re riding with me. Kate and McGee can join us there.”
“Yes, boss,” Tony said, running behind Gibbs and barely catching the elevator before the door shut.
As usual, Gibbs drove too quickly, ignoring speed limits, distracting Tony momentarily from his nervousness at sitting alone with Gibbs in such a confined space. The car windows were closed against the fall weather, but the sky was blue and the sun was shining in through the glass, making Tony feel as if he was in a little warm private bubble with Gibbs. He swallowed nervously at the thought of being that close, that warm, that alone with Gibbs. He must have made a sound, because Gibbs turned his head for a moment and looked at Tony curiously, his eyes narrowing speculatively. However, to Tony’s relief, Gibbs had to return his attention to the road almost immediately. Tony wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and prayed that Gibbs hadn’t noticed anything. He had dreamed many times of the feel of their bodies together, their lips pressing to each other’s, their hands traveling over each other’s bodies. However, his mind also just as many times had conjured up pictures of what Gibbs’ reaction would be if Tony made a pass at this hardcore Marine, three-times divorced and extremely heterosexual man. None of the scenarios were pleasant, ranging from him being told off and outed in front of his coworkers to Gibbs stapling him to the boat in his basement and sandpapering him raw, especially on Tony’s body’s private spots (although that one seemed unlikely as Gibbs would never hurt the boat.) The numerous head slaps had proved that Gibbs had no worries about hurting Tony.
Tony breathed a sigh a relief when the car turned into a grassy field and pulled to a rest next to one of several police cars with flashing lights. The field was marked by yellow police tape and contained a body lying in the grass on its back. Ducky’s van was also there and a small blue building was behind the body. A slender man was standing with the police, a light grin on his face as if he was expecting the other people to share in some joke. A small crowd of spectators was gathered around the police tape, eyeing the scene and murmuring among themselves. Tony couldn’t believe they were wasting a beautiful day that way. Obviously, he had to work, but it appeared a number of the spectators had been in the park jogging, picnicking or just soaking up the sun before their attention had been caught by the police car. If it had been him, he would have continued sitting in the sun, preferably with Gibbs, companionably soaking up the rays. Giving himself a mental head slap, he sternly told himself to get his mind off Gibbs and onto work. Yeah, right.
Exiting the car, Tony took a quick look at the man who was hemmed in by the police officers. He had a high, wide forehead, long sideburns and arched eyebrows, giving him a look of surprise. In fact, to Tony he almost looked like a very tall elf. His hair was curly in the front, and he was wearing a brown topcoat even though the weather wasn’t cool today. Tony supposed the man was attractive, but he wasn’t Gibbs. Gibbs was his standard of measurement.
Ducking under the tape and striding up to the police, Gibbs flashed his badge to introduce himself, and abruptly asked, “What happened?” The police officer looked at him, eyes squeezed to slits to look into the sun, and Tony could see him mentally determining whether to answer. Apparently, he decided it was proper to release the information.
“We got a call about some shots in the park. The squad car came to check it out, found this body and this man right by it.”
”I was merely trying to get back to my TARDIS,” said the man in the pinstripe suit.
“TARDIS?” said Gibbs.
Tony figured he had to be dealing with a nut, but thankfully, Gibbs was handling it and not him. He was conscious of a huge sense of relief that it was Gibbs’ problem.
Gibbs sent a warning glare at the stranger, then said over his shoulder, “Duck, time and cause of death?”
“Well,” Ducky said, glaring right back at Gibbs (Tony knew that Gibbs half-asked these questions just to get Ducky’s goat; it was a long-standing routine between them) “from the exit wounds in his back, a preliminary guess would be he was shot. However, I will need to make a closer examination in Autopsy. Mr. Palmer, will you help me turn him over so we can get a liver temperature?”
The two men turned the victim so that he was lying on his back. Gibbs had wandered back over to the man in the brown coat, but Tony was still looking down at the body. “Hey, boss!” he yelled.
Gibbs turned with an exasperated look on his face. “What?”
“It’s Perkins.”
“Better call Fornell, then,” Gibbs said, and he went back to the man. “Your name?”
“I’m the Doctor.”
Gibbs rolled his eyes. “Okay, ‘Doctor’,” he said in a slightly sarcastic tone, “What’s your last name?”
“Just call me ‘The Doctor.” The other man said, smiling at Gibbs.
“Right. You found the body?”
“Actually,” said the Doctor, “he sort of found me. I was traveling to the Inter-Galactic Music Festival, suddenly I was here, and there was a body next to me. I don’t know if I can explain it so you will understand. And by the way, what year is this?”
”2007. Try me with the explanation,” said Gibbs, his eyes focusing like lasers on the other man.
“Whoops,” said the Doctor and his face broke out in a smile. “Missed it by 100 years.” Gibbs’ eyes got even harder. The man sighed and continued. “I’m a traveler.”
Ducky came up behind them. “You know, I met someone when I was younger who also said he was ‘The Doctor’. He didn’t look anything like you; he had this really long striped scarf that I remember…”
“That was me, half a dozen regenerations ago,” the Doctor said, looking at Ducky.
Gibbs was barely controlling his temper, and Tony could tell that Gibbs had had enough. “Duck!”
“Oh. Sorry, Jethro,” and Ducky went back to Jimmy and the corpse.
Gibbs stared at the stranger who was beginning to look a little irked by everything. “There seems to be some confusion as to who you really are,” spoken with a note in his voice that implied he wasn’t buying whatever this man was selling. The stranger just waited it out, until Gibbs gave in and said, “Do you have any identification?”
The man smiled. “It’s inside the TARDIS... May I get it?” Gibbs gave a very brief nod and the Doctor opened the TARDIS’ door and stepped inside. A minute later, the blue police box shimmered and disappeared, leaving the men staring at it.
“You know,” said Ducky, “this reminds me of the stories…”
“Not now, Duck,” said Gibbs.
-/-/-
“Jethro,” Ducky spoke up after a few moments in which all the men stared at the spot where the TARDIS had been, “who is taking custody of the case? The FBI or us? More importantly, am I doing the autopsy?”
“You know,” said Tony slowly, “after that last thing that happened, whatever the hell it was, I’d just as soon hand it over to Fornell. I don’t want to have to explain a witness disappearing like that.”
Gibbs nodded. Flipping open his phone, he called Kate and told her that she and McGee could return to the office. Then the three older men settled down on a fallen tree to wait for the FBI to arrive, while Jimmy paced around, too timid to sit on the log with the others. Eventually, he went and sat in the Autopsy truck. Well, thought Tony, I’m sitting in the park with Gibbs, but this isn’t quite what I pictured in my dreams. For one thing, I didn’t have Ducky in them....
Gibbs was sitting between Tony and Ducky and Tony found himself sneaking glances at the two other men. They looked so comfortable together, sitting so close, invading each other’s personal space, sitting companionably and quietly, with Ducky not feeling a need to talk for once. Tony could see that their posture spoke of years together, deep friendship and possibly something more, causing his heart to catch in his throat as he realized he had no chance of ever sitting with Gibbs that way. Sunk in gloom, he didn’t notice that Gibbs had turned and was looking directly at him, a slight frown on his face. Tony only pulled himself back to the present when his thoughts were interrupted because Fornell had arrived and Gibbs was busy turning the case over to the FBI. Unfortunately, Agent Sacks had also come with the FBI. “Hey, DiNozzo!” he called. “Who'd you kill this time?” Tony decided to wait by Gibbs’ car and walked away, his mind thinking of several pungent, pithy comebacks, most of which also involved the use of one finger.
After Fornell assumed control, the three NCIS men walked over to Ducky’s van. Ducky shot Gibbs a brief look, to which Gibbs responded with a slight glare, causing Ducky to quietly chuckle. Tony knew that the two men had just had some sort of silent conversation but for the life of him, he had no idea what it had been about. Ducky was still giving Gibbs looks, until finally Gibbs sighed almost imperceptibly, turned to Tony and said, “This was a hell of a case. Wanna stop for a drink?”
Me? Thought Tony. He can’t be asking me, he must be talking to Ducky. However, Gibbs was staring directly at him, although his confident look seemed to be slipping a little when Tony didn’t immediately reply. Gibbs gave a little nod and started to turn around. Answer him, you idiot! Tony’s brain was screaming. He thinks you’re saying no! Nevertheless, his mouth just did not seem to want to work. Just as Gibbs was about one-quarter turned away, Tony blurted out, “Normally I’d say ‘yes’ but Abby and have I a standing arrangement to go out dancing one night a week and she’s expecting me.” Shit, did he just say that? Why didn’t he just say “yes,” then call Abby and apologize to her for breaking their 'date'? Not to mention that she was probably going to put some sort of odorless poison in his coffee when she found out he had blurted out the secret he had made such a big deal out of her keeping absolutely to herself. Gibbs turned back around and was looking at him.
“Dancing?” said Jimmy, expressing what all the other men were obviously thinking. Of all of them, only Jimmy would be foolish enough to say it aloud.
“You never heard that,” said Tony, “and if you mention it to Abby I’ll tell her you sleep with a blankie.”
“I don’t sleep with a blankie!” Jimmy said indignantly.
“And you think that’ll stop me from telling her that anyway?”
Tony noticed that Ducky and Gibbs were both fighting grins. Ducky… hmm.
Tony turned to Ducky. Maybe he could do Abby a favor here. “Um, Ducky, you can ballroom dance, can’t you?”
“I was fairly good at tripping the light fantastic in my youth.”
“Well then, Ducky, maybe you could take Abby in my place?”
Ducky looked at him. “Now, Anthony, you know I don’t know any of the dances you young people do.”
“Yeah, but Ducky, this is standard ballroom dancing. I doubt it has changed in the last thirt…um, few years. And I know that Abby would enjoy dancing with you.” For good measure, he threw in one of his winsome grins trying to project earnestness and sincerity. Unfortunately, the old acting line came to his mind: “The most important thing is sincerity. If you can fake that you can do all the rest.”
Something must have worked, as Ducky stood a little straighter. “Really? I suppose I could do it for one evening.”
Thank God. “I’ll let Abby know. She was going to pick me up at 7:00.”
“I would tell her to meet me at NCIS after Mr. Palmer and I return the truck, but I have to go home and get my dancing shoes. Should I meet her somewhere?”
Dancing shoes? He must dance more than he’s letting on. “I’m sure," boy am I sure, he added mentally, "that she wouldn’t mind coming to your place to get you,” Tony replied, and he got out his cell phone and dialed Abby. “Hey, Abs, listen - something came up so I can’t go dancing… wait, let me finish… Ducky can go instead.” His phone shrieked at him. “Ducky!!! Ducky’s going with me? I love you Tony!” Ducky’s eyebrows rose, and Gibbs gave Tony a funny look. Obviously, they had all heard the shriek. Tony just hoped Ducky was flattered. Although come to think of it, much as he loved Abby, for the moment he was not that concerned about her and Ducky. He was going with Gibbs. For a drink. With Gibbs. Holy shit. He was going for a drink with Gibbs. He tried to turn the refrain off in his mind but it just kept going. Gibbs…drink… Gibbs…drink … Gibbs…drink. And Gibbs was already halfway to his car. Once again, Tony found himself running to catch up.
-/-/-
Tony practically threw himself into the passenger seat, slammed the door shut and buckled his seatbelt. Gibbs had started driving the moment Tony had got in the car and now he was staring ahead with a look of fixed determination on his face. In fact, he looked downright fierce, but that was nothing new for Gibbs. Tony couldn’t decide whether to be scared of the look, or ecstatic that he was riding with Gibbs to some place unknown, just the two of them, the closest he had ever gotten to a date with Gibbs. He didn’t care where they ended up; it was just him and Gibbs. He laid his head back on the seat’s headrest and daydreamed for a moment about sitting in a booth in a dark corner somewhere with Gibbs, shoulder-to-shoulder, feeling each other’s body warmth.
Suddenly Tony realized that Gibbs had stopped the car. He could sense Gibbs waiting expectantly, almost fearfully. That was a new concept. He had never pictured Gibbs as ever been afraid of anything. Tony opened his eyes cautiously and looked out the window. Holy shit, they were at Gibbs’ house! This was better then anything he had ever dared dream. Tony turned to look at Gibbs, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. Gibbs swallowed. Tony watched Gibbs’ Adam’s apple move, fascinated, and then Gibbs finally spoke. “I thought maybe it would be easier to come here, if you didn’t mind. I’m not really into sitting in a noisy bar somewhere.” Gibbs still looked uncomfortable. Meanwhile, Tony was sitting there stunned, his mind racing through images of the two of them sitting on the couch, lying on the floor, climbing up the stairs to the bedroom… He gave himself a mental headslap and turned to Gibbs, a brilliant smile on his face. “Good thinking, Boss. I’m too tired to sit in a bar anyway.” Gibbs let out a small puff of air. Tony hadn’t even realized the older man had been holding his breath waiting for Tony’s response, and then the two of them got out of the car and headed towards the house, Tony’s mind now showing him pictures in widescreen Technicolor. He just hoped he could make it to the couch without embarrassing himself.
-/-/-
Ducky was hovering by the front door, waiting for Abby to appear. He had settled his mother in front of the telly with her sitter and a large Gin and Tonic, so he nearly jumped out of his shoes (the regular ones, not the fancy dancing ones) when his mother’s voice came from directly behind his shoulder.
“What in Heaven’s name is wrong with you, Donald? You’re acting like you used to when you were a teenager going on your first date.”
Closing his eyes, Ducky wondered for the hundredth time why his mother always became lucid at the most inopportune moments. Maybe he would get lucky and she would forget about her question before he came home. “Mother, I’m just waiting for a coworker. I have to go somewhere tonight. Aren’t you missing your wrestling show?” and he gently gave her a little shove in the direction of the sitting room, then returned to the front door, hanging around it once more. When the doorbell rang, Ducky once again nearly jumped out of his skin, having forgotten that he was standing directly under the chime box. Not wanting to look too eager, he counted to ten before opening the door, revealing a grinning Abby standing on the porch, bouncing on her heels. He was surprised to notice that she had toned down her makeup for the evening, shedding some of the Goth look, plus she was wearing her hair so that the front was pulled away from her face but the back hung down so it would swing as she danced. Ducky thought she looked lovely.
In addition, Abby had on an elegant long black coat which Ducky had never seen before and which totally covered her outfit, but the effect was spoiled slightly by the fact that she was still wearing her boots, causing her to be taller than him by a few inches. He looked at her and grinning slightly said, “I trust you’re not planning to dance in those shoes, Abigail? If you step on my foot even once our evening will be over early.”
Abby was still grinning. “No, Duckman, I have proper dance shoes. It would be a shame if our evening ended prematurely,” and she opened her eyes wide at him. “Are you ready to go dancing?”
“Certainly, Abigail. On the way over could you give me some more details about the dancing we will be doing? Ballroom dancing is something of a wide term. It could mean foxtrot, tango, waltz, swing, or salsa.”
“Tony and I usually do all of them. Are there any you don’t know?” Abby replied.
“I think, my dear, that it’s less that I don’t know them and more whether my old bones and bad leg can manage them.”
“Duckman!! You are not old! You may be getting older, but you are not old. I like to think of you more as ‘distinguished.’”
Ducky felt a moment of pleasure. It had been a long time since a young female had said something like that to him. “Thank you, Abigail, my dear, but let’s see how tonight goes before you pass judgment on that.” He made a silent promise to Abby that he would try to do his best and hope she had a good time, as he had always been fond of the forensic scientist. After Gibbs, she might be his closest friend at NCIS.
As they had been having this conversation they had been walking to Abby’s car. Now Ducky suddenly realized that his etiquette lessons in his youth had never covered this situation. He had reached out automatically to open the car door for Abby, only to realize that she was the driver and how was he to handle that? Oh well, he thought, I’ll give it a try anyway and hope she doesn’t yell at me for being old-fashioned.
However, as it turned out, Abby beamed at him from the driver’s seat after he got in his, saying, “Such a gentlemen! None of the younger men I know are so well-mannered.” Ducky’s former moment of pleasure grew larger as Abby started the car and they drove off to the ballroom.
-/-/-
Gibbs opened his front door and with a curt gesture invited Tony in, then, once inside, he took Tony’s jacket and draped it over the stair railing, not bothering to hang it up. The silence was beginning to get to Tony, and so he said, “I see you’re still not locking the front door.”
“No one interested in getting in here,” Gibbs said, and waved Tony towards the living room.
Wanna bet? Tony thought as he looked at the living room, trying to decide the best place to sit. As he gazed around, he got a feeling of disuse and emptiness from the room. It would not have surprised Tony to find out that Gibbs only lived in the basement and his bedroom. Tony had seen the basement in the past; he wondered if he would ever see the bedroom, beginning to dream of being in Gibbs’ arms, in his bed, protected and warm, snuggling comfortably…
“Were you planning on sitting down?” Tony came back to himself with a start and discovered Gibbs looking at him with one eyebrow quirked up.
”Getting right to it, boss,” Tony said hurriedly. He quickly decided to sit on one end of the couch. His brain was telling him that if he took a chair then he’d never get close to Gibbs. His heart started to pound when he realized that Gibbs was actually going to sit next to him on the couch, sharing the space, within about a foot of him. To his ears, his heart’s pounding was so loud that he couldn’t believe that Gibbs hadn’t heard it. Gibbs leaned his head back against the top of the couch, kicking off his shoes and putting his feet on the coffee table. That seemed like a very good idea and Tony immediately moved to copy Gibbs. He couldn’t relax as he was not sure what to do around Gibbs, but at least he could try to look comfortable. Unfortunately, his body had tensed up at the thought of Gibbs being next to him and Tony couldn’t have been calm at that moment if he’d been shot with an elephant tranquilizer dart. All of his muscles were taut, poised to flee if he did something wrong in the next few minutes.
“Tony,” came a voice from the other end of the couch.
“Yeah, boss?” Tony said, noticing a note of weariness in Gibbs’ voice and wondering what the other man was going to say. He could think of a lot of statements that Gibbs could make - most of them not good for Tony.
“I invited you over to decompress and escape the effects of work. Call me ‘boss’ again tonight and you will be investigating the insides of trash cans for the rest of the week.”
Tony swallowed hard. “Yes, b... Um, what should I call you then?” He had never called Gibbs anything but ‘boss’ to his face.
Gibbs looked at him for a moment. Tony recognized the look; it was the one that said, “How did this moron ever graduate from kindergarten?” Sighing, Gibbs said, “Why not just call me Gibbs or is that too much of a stretch of the imagination?”
Great, thought Tony, worrying, I’ve pissed him off already and I haven’t even had a sip of my drink. Needing some quick courage, Tony took a large swallow of his own drink and nearly choked. “Gods, Bo…um Gibbs, what the hell is this?”
”Bourbon.”
“Are you sure it’s drinkable?”
Gibbs looked at him again, the glare back in his eyes, although this at least was the familiar one that translated as “Tony, don’t push me too far.” Right, thought Tony, why don’t I just keep my mouth shut? He took another mouthful and this time managed not to gasp. Either he was getting used to the drink, or his taste buds had all collapsed after the first sip. He was betting on the latter.
Gibbs stood up abruptly and left the room, causing Tony to worry about what was happening now. Had he insulted Gibbs? Was Gibbs upset with him? All of his insecurities were about to start spewing out when Tony realized with relief that Gibbs was returning. In addition, he had two six-packs of beer in his hands. Gibbs slammed the cans down on the coffee table, took two, gave one to Tony and popped open the other one for himself. With his head back on the couch, Gibbs, speaking to the ceiling, said “One last order for the night. No more talking until we finish the first six-pack.”
“Sounds good to me,” Tony replied and the two men started systematically trying to wash away the stress of the day.
-/-/-
Arriving at the ballroom, Ducky played the role of the gentleman to the hilt. He paid for the tickets over Abby’s strenuous objections, took her coat to the hatcheck, got the receipts, and then turned to put an arm around Abby and escort her in…and stopped dead as her dress, what little there was of it, caught his eye. For a second he thought he would actually have a heart attack. The dress, if it could be called that, was showing more skin than fabric. The whole outfit screamed “sex!” to the male in him. He had to dance with this? For a moment, he wondered if she wore the dress because she thought he was old and wouldn’t give her any problems. How depressing. However, upon looking around the dance floor he realized that most of the females were in dresses that were just as skimpy. Whatever happened to Ginger Roger’s style of gowns? Returning to the immediate problem, he wondered where the heck was he supposed to put his hands? He surreptitiously peered at her, working out logistics. No matter how he sliced it, he was going to end up having to put his hand on her bare back that evening. He gritted his teeth as various images flitted through his mind, and reminded himself that this was Abby, not just “some” woman. This was his coworker and he didn’t want to do anything to upset the relationship. Sure. Maybe if he kept telling himself that his body would believe it, if his body would ever bother to listen to his brain because some parts of his cerebral cortex were still checking out Abby’s dress. He just prayed he wasn’t blushing.
Entering the ballroom, Ducky was relieved to see the couples on the floor were doing a foxtrot. He was sure he could manage to get through that without embarrassment. Then he realized he hadn’t changed his shoes. So much for not embarrassing himself. He managed a weak grin. “I’m sorry, Abigail, but I forgot to leave my shoes in the cloakroom. Would you excuse me for a moment, my dear?”
“Of course, Duckman. I’ll go grab that empty table over there while you do that.”
Ducky raced to change his shoes and rejoin Abby. In his absence, the dance music had changed to a cha-cha. “So, Abigail, what sort of dances do you and Anthony do?”
“We vary by week, Ducky. This happened to be a ballroom week, so it will mainly be Waltzes, Quick Steps and Tangos. Some weeks we go swing dancing and other weeks we line dance.”
”I’m fortunate it was a ballroom night then,” Ducky replied.
”So am I,” Abby said, glowing at him. At that moment, the music changed to a two-step.
”Shall we?” said Ducky, offering his arm and the two of them went out on the dance floor.
After a while, they returned to the table a little thirsty and breathless. Ducky looked at Abby, noticed that she was panting, slightly flushed and looking a little warm, and asked, “Would you like me to get you some sort of beverage?”
“That would be so sweet,” Abby replied. “But they don’t have Caf-Pow. How about just water?”
Nodding, Ducky went towards the bar to get beverages… and hopefully to forget the image of Abby flushed and panting.
-/-/-
Gibbs had made a sizeable dent in the beer inventory. As far as Tony could tell, Gibbs had had four or five beers now. Tony wasn’t sure because he was discovering that he couldn’t drink them as quickly as Gibbs did. Wait, scratch that. He could drink them that quickly, but he didn’t hold his liquor nearly as well as Gibbs appeared to be doing. If he wanted to be able to do anything of interest later that evening, he had better slow down his intake. In addition, Tony was pretty damn sure that every time Gibbs had reached for a beer he had moved a little closer to Tony, which Tony took to be a good thing. A very good thing. Of course, Tony had also been inching marginally closer to Gibbs with each drink so now only a few inches separated them. A few inches of air, and miles of worry. Tony couldn’t decide if Gibbs was truly moving towards him or if it was just wishful thinking.
Feeling the need to walk away for a moment, Tony stood up to go to the bathroom. Unfortunately, the floor and walls did not move along properly with him and he found himself swaying on his feet. Immediately, Gibbs was right there beside him, putting an arm around him, concern in his voice as he said, “You all right there?”
“Guess I stood up too fast. I was going to take a leak.”
“I’d better help you,” said Gibbs, and he moved Tony towards the bathroom, piloting him by the arm that was still around Tony. “You need any help?”
“Not unless you want to hold my penis for me,” Tony said, and then gasped. Had he really said that? Christ, how drunk was he?
“How drunk are you?” Were the voices repeating in his head? No, it was just Gibbs saying what Tony had been thinking. He hated it when Gibbs read minds.
“Um, I, um…” Tony turned red. He felt like his tongue had grown huge and rooted to the top of his mouth. It definitely wouldn’t move now so that Tony could speak. Which, come to think of it, might not be a bad thing, given the last ghastly remark he had made.
Gibbs was looking at him, the corner of his mouth slightly quirked up. “Is that your usual pick-up line? I thought from what you claimed at work you were smoother than that.”
Tony’s voice came out in a squeak. “Um, that just kind of slipped out. It was unintentional, boss - um, Gibbs.” To gain some distance, and put an end to the conversation, Tony turned his back to Gibbs and started using the toilet. He was so deeply involved in concentrating on not thinking about Gibbs that he didn’t notice when Gibbs moved up behind him, until suddenly a hand reached around Tony and took hold of his dick. “Is this what you wanted?” Gibbs said in his ear. Thank God, Tony was about done, or he would have sprayed the bathroom with urine when he jumped.
“Christ, Gibbs, warn me before you do that next time!”
“Next time?” an amused voice said in his ear. “Shall I do it again?”
Tony lost all power of speech. This was weirder than anything he had ever thought of in his dreams – standing over a toilet with Gibbs’ hand on him. It was, literally, a sobering experience. Just to make sure he knew what was going on he moved back slightly until his ass was touching Gibbs. Oh yesss… Gibbs was interested, based on the hard cock digging into Tony’s rear. Then Gibbs took his hands, put them on Tony’s hips and pressed his dick into Tony’s ass with a gasp. Tony wished fervently that the two of them hadn’t been dressed, then realized that could be taken care of shortly.
Tony turned so that he was facing Gibbs, lifted his hands and placed them on Gibbs’ cheeks. “Was there something you had in mind besides drinking?”
Gibbs’ eyes caught Tony’s and Tony noticed the other man’s eyes had become dark and glittering with just a rim of blue showing. That was enough for Tony and he leaned in and gently kissed Gibbs on the mouth. In response, Gibbs turned his head slightly so their lips made better contact and then deepened the kiss. After a few minutes, Tony realized he was becoming dizzy again and grabbed Gibbs’ shoulders. However, it wasn’t the booze affecting him this time, it was lack of air. He’d gotten so involved in the kiss he’d forgotten to breathe.
A gentle laugh, a type he’d never heard Gibbs make before, sounded in his ear. “Well, now that you’ve seen the living room and bathroom, would you like a tour of the bedroom?”
“Right behind you, boss.”
-/-/-
While Tony was indulging his baser side, Ducky, who was waltzing with Abby, was trying to convince himself that he didn’t have one. It was hard, so to speak, because Abby seemed to do a lot of touching when she danced. He didn’t remember the waltz being quite so physical in his day. For that matter, he distinctly remembered his teachers insisting on two inches of air between the male and female. He would have been hard-pressed to fit a sheet of litmus paper between him and Abby. Goodness gracious, there was that word again, “hard.” Think of cricket, he told himself sternly. He tried to put a little distance between them so that he wouldn’t embarrass himself or Abby, but she followed right along. Good Lord, where those her breasts pressing into his arm?
The music changed and Abby bounced, which did all sorts of things to Ducky’s arm as her body moved up and down, then she turned to him excitedly. “A tango! You know what they call the tango don’t you?”
Hell yes, he did, but did she? Apparently so, because she continued, “Making love vertically!” and gave him a look that sparked a response in every male part of his body. In days to come if someone had offered him a million dollars to tell them how the rest of the night went, he couldn’t have done it. From the time of the tango on, the night was a blur of dancing, holding Abby close, enjoying the feel of her moving against him. He had no idea later how he had managed to dance, as his brain stopped concentrating on the steps but instead kept thinking of other interesting things to do with Abby.
Eventually, of course, the dancing ended for the night, Ducky retrieved their coats and Abby drove him home. When they got to his house, he discovered that once again he was at a total loss as to how to handle things. Well, Abby had been managing everything quite well (very well, his mind supplied) up until now, he probably could just follow her lead. And lead she did, walking him from the car to his front door. Leaning in close to him with her mouth by his cheek, and speaking in a sultrier voice than he normally associated with her, she said, “We’ll have to do this again next week.”
He was just considering whether it would proper to kiss her when the porch light snapped on, the front door was yanked open and a voice said, “Just what are you up to Donald?” He closed his eyes briefly. His mother had a disconcerting habit of showing up at just the wrong moment. “Just saying goodbye to Abigail, Mother. You remember her from the office.” His mother leaned sideways to peer around Ducky and stare at Abby. In response, Abby put her lips against Ducky’s ear and whispered, “Maybe next time you should drive,” then waved somewhat cheekily at Mrs. Mallard and headed down the steps to her car.
It took Ducky a full minute to wipe the grin off his face before he turned to answer his mother.
Author:
periwinkle27 Written for:
becky_monsterArchive: sure, just let me know
Pairings: Tony/Gibbs, Ducky/Abby
Rating: probably an R
Warnings/Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: I do not own anything and am not getting paid
Word Count: 7194
Prompt: A combination of two prompts, more or less, which I’ve summarized for space:
#1: Gibbs, Di Nozzo, friendship OR slash (first time or established)
#2: We know Ducky can dance (Heartbreak #208), so he takes Abby dancing.
Which she enjoys immensely and it becomes a regular 'thing' for them. I'll love you forever if you can work New SkoolDoctor Who references in too.
Summary: “Dancing” can mean many things.
Author’s note: Many thanks to
toomuchfandom for her help. I could not have written the one scene without her. Also to ingenius_inc for her comments and rainsquall for the beta job. I did some rewriting after rainsquall’s hard work – all errors are mine.Tony kept secrets. His fellow NCIS employees accepted the image he projected: the one of the over-confident, over-grown frat boy, slightly goofy, although they also recognized that he was a good agent. However, behind that image hid a much more complex, highly insecure soul with gradations of private yearnings and layers of buried memories and sorrows. He had found that appearing to be open and voluble made people accept him at face value, and generally they didn’t delve into what he had said long enough to realize that while he had talked a lot it had all been a smoke screen and he hadn’t really said anything of substance about himself. He used volubility to conceal, rather than inform.
So he clung to his image like a remora clings to a shark, and kept his needs and hurts concealed somewhere deep inside his psyche. He preferred it that way; in Tony’s experience, letting others know of his needs was a sure way to bring trouble and heartbreak and he had had more then enough of that in his childhood – he didn’t need it in his adult life also. So,Tony kept his secrets and he buried them far inside himself so that he didn’t have to think about them.
He had slipped up once, and let one secret out, but it was to Abby, and he knew she wouldn’t use it against him or tell Kate or Probie. God forbid if she ever did; he didn’t think he could face the teasing of the team once they found out. As secrets went, it wasn’t a big one, but still…
He had been down in Abby’s lab, just making small talk while he waited for her to finish a test that Gibbs needed the results of yesterday. It was nice sometimes to be with someone who was just a friend, and didn’t expect anything more from him. Asking what he thought would be an innocent question, he said, “Do you have any exciting plans for tonight?” not realizing that he had just reached a major turning point in his life with those simple words. Looking back later, he wished that life had road signs so that you knew when you were at a crossroads, instead of having fate come up and slap you in the face when you weren’t looking, because he certainly hadn’t seen this one coming.
“Well,” said Abby with a little less bounce than usual, “I usually go ballroom dancing on Wednesdays, but my usual partner isn’t able to come tonight, so I guess I’ll be missing it.”
Not thinking, Tony replied “I like ballroom dancing myself,” and just like that, his life turned a corner, although he didn’t notice it at the time because he was too busy recovering from 120 pounds of Goth who had thrown herself into his arms, shrieking “Oh that’s wonderful! You can come with me tonight!”
Tony tried to backtrack, but he knew it was too late as he’d already said the words, and all he could do was to minimize the damage. Sighing, and trying to detach Abby enough that he could breathe and talk without his lungs being crushed to death, he capitulated. “All right, but we have to go where no one we know will see us.”
“No problemo,” Abby said. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
And just like that, it started. They went dancing every week that they could, going to a multitude of places so that people at NCIS wouldn’t learn about it, just having fun, enjoying the break from the stresses of work. Because they moved around they ended up doing all sorts of dancing – jitterbug one week, the twist the next, ballroom another. Tony occasionally spared a thought for Abby’s former partner and wondered what had happened to him, but truthfully, he did enjoy the dancing and Abby was very good, she didn’t expect to go out somewhere and have sex afterwards, and she was comfortable. He found he could talk to her and tell her some of his deeper secrets. She never judged, only gave advice if he asked for it, and in return for that he would help her sort out her love life and the various men she was dating. They exchanged confidences, some of which surprised the other person, but they never remarked upon any shock they felt. On their ballroom dance nights, holding each other in their arms, they were in a little cocoon, separated from the world, insulated from everyone else and somehow it seemed all right to talk about things they would never have shared with any other human. He told her one night how he had a thing for Gibbs, but that Gibbs was so self-righteously a Marine that he knew nothing would come of it; she told him another night that she thought Ducky was kind of sexy and how she loved his accent. That revelation astounded Tony for a few minutes, but upon thinking about it, he could sorta understand the attraction – Ducky and Abby shared a passion for science and forensics, Ducky was in the habit of holding Abby when she needed comforting, or sharing hugs when Ducky needed them. He spent a few moments imagining Ducky’s reaction, and decided that it would tend more towards “delighted” than “doubting” and urged her to tell the ME, but she was reluctant. She had a feeling that Ducky regarded her as if he were her uncle, and even more so, she was afraid of destroying their working relationship, which Tony could certainly sympathize with, because wasn’t that one of the things that was keeping him from telling Gibbs how he felt? Along with a fear of being punched, sandpapered to death and demoted so fast that he would feel like he was on a free-falling elevator. So they clung to each other and to their fantasies and no one else was any the wiser.
-/-/-
It was one of the nights when they planned to go dancing, ballroom that week, and Tony was watching the clock -- he was eager to get out of work and grab something to eat before meeting Abby. It had been a slow week; about the most exciting thing to come his way had been an FBI request for assistance in locating a Marine named Perkins who was suspected of drug dealing and had jumped ship. Kate and Probie were out in the field following leads and Tony was kinda wishing he were out there too, enjoying how the sun shone on the leaves as they turned many colors. Suddenly Tony’s thoughts were interrupted as he realized that Gibbs had stood up, thrown his jacket on, and was barking out “DiNozzo!” Moreover, from the look on Gibbs’ face it wasn’t the first time he had said it.
Tony jumped up so quickly he nearly bumped into Gibbs’ coffee. He blanched, thinking that if he spilled the coffee he would probably never get to talk to Gibbs again as he’d probably end up some place like Alaska. “Yeah, boss?” Tony was racing across the floor, putting his jacket on as he ran, trying to keep Gibbs from getting in the elevator without him.
“Got a new body. You’re riding with me. Kate and McGee can join us there.”
“Yes, boss,” Tony said, running behind Gibbs and barely catching the elevator before the door shut.
As usual, Gibbs drove too quickly, ignoring speed limits, distracting Tony momentarily from his nervousness at sitting alone with Gibbs in such a confined space. The car windows were closed against the fall weather, but the sky was blue and the sun was shining in through the glass, making Tony feel as if he was in a little warm private bubble with Gibbs. He swallowed nervously at the thought of being that close, that warm, that alone with Gibbs. He must have made a sound, because Gibbs turned his head for a moment and looked at Tony curiously, his eyes narrowing speculatively. However, to Tony’s relief, Gibbs had to return his attention to the road almost immediately. Tony wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and prayed that Gibbs hadn’t noticed anything. He had dreamed many times of the feel of their bodies together, their lips pressing to each other’s, their hands traveling over each other’s bodies. However, his mind also just as many times had conjured up pictures of what Gibbs’ reaction would be if Tony made a pass at this hardcore Marine, three-times divorced and extremely heterosexual man. None of the scenarios were pleasant, ranging from him being told off and outed in front of his coworkers to Gibbs stapling him to the boat in his basement and sandpapering him raw, especially on Tony’s body’s private spots (although that one seemed unlikely as Gibbs would never hurt the boat.) The numerous head slaps had proved that Gibbs had no worries about hurting Tony.
Tony breathed a sigh a relief when the car turned into a grassy field and pulled to a rest next to one of several police cars with flashing lights. The field was marked by yellow police tape and contained a body lying in the grass on its back. Ducky’s van was also there and a small blue building was behind the body. A slender man was standing with the police, a light grin on his face as if he was expecting the other people to share in some joke. A small crowd of spectators was gathered around the police tape, eyeing the scene and murmuring among themselves. Tony couldn’t believe they were wasting a beautiful day that way. Obviously, he had to work, but it appeared a number of the spectators had been in the park jogging, picnicking or just soaking up the sun before their attention had been caught by the police car. If it had been him, he would have continued sitting in the sun, preferably with Gibbs, companionably soaking up the rays. Giving himself a mental head slap, he sternly told himself to get his mind off Gibbs and onto work. Yeah, right.
Exiting the car, Tony took a quick look at the man who was hemmed in by the police officers. He had a high, wide forehead, long sideburns and arched eyebrows, giving him a look of surprise. In fact, to Tony he almost looked like a very tall elf. His hair was curly in the front, and he was wearing a brown topcoat even though the weather wasn’t cool today. Tony supposed the man was attractive, but he wasn’t Gibbs. Gibbs was his standard of measurement.
Ducking under the tape and striding up to the police, Gibbs flashed his badge to introduce himself, and abruptly asked, “What happened?” The police officer looked at him, eyes squeezed to slits to look into the sun, and Tony could see him mentally determining whether to answer. Apparently, he decided it was proper to release the information.
“We got a call about some shots in the park. The squad car came to check it out, found this body and this man right by it.”
”I was merely trying to get back to my TARDIS,” said the man in the pinstripe suit.
“TARDIS?” said Gibbs.
Tony figured he had to be dealing with a nut, but thankfully, Gibbs was handling it and not him. He was conscious of a huge sense of relief that it was Gibbs’ problem.
Gibbs sent a warning glare at the stranger, then said over his shoulder, “Duck, time and cause of death?”
“Well,” Ducky said, glaring right back at Gibbs (Tony knew that Gibbs half-asked these questions just to get Ducky’s goat; it was a long-standing routine between them) “from the exit wounds in his back, a preliminary guess would be he was shot. However, I will need to make a closer examination in Autopsy. Mr. Palmer, will you help me turn him over so we can get a liver temperature?”
The two men turned the victim so that he was lying on his back. Gibbs had wandered back over to the man in the brown coat, but Tony was still looking down at the body. “Hey, boss!” he yelled.
Gibbs turned with an exasperated look on his face. “What?”
“It’s Perkins.”
“Better call Fornell, then,” Gibbs said, and he went back to the man. “Your name?”
“I’m the Doctor.”
Gibbs rolled his eyes. “Okay, ‘Doctor’,” he said in a slightly sarcastic tone, “What’s your last name?”
“Just call me ‘The Doctor.” The other man said, smiling at Gibbs.
“Right. You found the body?”
“Actually,” said the Doctor, “he sort of found me. I was traveling to the Inter-Galactic Music Festival, suddenly I was here, and there was a body next to me. I don’t know if I can explain it so you will understand. And by the way, what year is this?”
”2007. Try me with the explanation,” said Gibbs, his eyes focusing like lasers on the other man.
“Whoops,” said the Doctor and his face broke out in a smile. “Missed it by 100 years.” Gibbs’ eyes got even harder. The man sighed and continued. “I’m a traveler.”
Ducky came up behind them. “You know, I met someone when I was younger who also said he was ‘The Doctor’. He didn’t look anything like you; he had this really long striped scarf that I remember…”
“That was me, half a dozen regenerations ago,” the Doctor said, looking at Ducky.
Gibbs was barely controlling his temper, and Tony could tell that Gibbs had had enough. “Duck!”
“Oh. Sorry, Jethro,” and Ducky went back to Jimmy and the corpse.
Gibbs stared at the stranger who was beginning to look a little irked by everything. “There seems to be some confusion as to who you really are,” spoken with a note in his voice that implied he wasn’t buying whatever this man was selling. The stranger just waited it out, until Gibbs gave in and said, “Do you have any identification?”
The man smiled. “It’s inside the TARDIS... May I get it?” Gibbs gave a very brief nod and the Doctor opened the TARDIS’ door and stepped inside. A minute later, the blue police box shimmered and disappeared, leaving the men staring at it.
“You know,” said Ducky, “this reminds me of the stories…”
“Not now, Duck,” said Gibbs.
-/-/-
“Jethro,” Ducky spoke up after a few moments in which all the men stared at the spot where the TARDIS had been, “who is taking custody of the case? The FBI or us? More importantly, am I doing the autopsy?”
“You know,” said Tony slowly, “after that last thing that happened, whatever the hell it was, I’d just as soon hand it over to Fornell. I don’t want to have to explain a witness disappearing like that.”
Gibbs nodded. Flipping open his phone, he called Kate and told her that she and McGee could return to the office. Then the three older men settled down on a fallen tree to wait for the FBI to arrive, while Jimmy paced around, too timid to sit on the log with the others. Eventually, he went and sat in the Autopsy truck. Well, thought Tony, I’m sitting in the park with Gibbs, but this isn’t quite what I pictured in my dreams. For one thing, I didn’t have Ducky in them....
Gibbs was sitting between Tony and Ducky and Tony found himself sneaking glances at the two other men. They looked so comfortable together, sitting so close, invading each other’s personal space, sitting companionably and quietly, with Ducky not feeling a need to talk for once. Tony could see that their posture spoke of years together, deep friendship and possibly something more, causing his heart to catch in his throat as he realized he had no chance of ever sitting with Gibbs that way. Sunk in gloom, he didn’t notice that Gibbs had turned and was looking directly at him, a slight frown on his face. Tony only pulled himself back to the present when his thoughts were interrupted because Fornell had arrived and Gibbs was busy turning the case over to the FBI. Unfortunately, Agent Sacks had also come with the FBI. “Hey, DiNozzo!” he called. “Who'd you kill this time?” Tony decided to wait by Gibbs’ car and walked away, his mind thinking of several pungent, pithy comebacks, most of which also involved the use of one finger.
After Fornell assumed control, the three NCIS men walked over to Ducky’s van. Ducky shot Gibbs a brief look, to which Gibbs responded with a slight glare, causing Ducky to quietly chuckle. Tony knew that the two men had just had some sort of silent conversation but for the life of him, he had no idea what it had been about. Ducky was still giving Gibbs looks, until finally Gibbs sighed almost imperceptibly, turned to Tony and said, “This was a hell of a case. Wanna stop for a drink?”
Me? Thought Tony. He can’t be asking me, he must be talking to Ducky. However, Gibbs was staring directly at him, although his confident look seemed to be slipping a little when Tony didn’t immediately reply. Gibbs gave a little nod and started to turn around. Answer him, you idiot! Tony’s brain was screaming. He thinks you’re saying no! Nevertheless, his mouth just did not seem to want to work. Just as Gibbs was about one-quarter turned away, Tony blurted out, “Normally I’d say ‘yes’ but Abby and have I a standing arrangement to go out dancing one night a week and she’s expecting me.” Shit, did he just say that? Why didn’t he just say “yes,” then call Abby and apologize to her for breaking their 'date'? Not to mention that she was probably going to put some sort of odorless poison in his coffee when she found out he had blurted out the secret he had made such a big deal out of her keeping absolutely to herself. Gibbs turned back around and was looking at him.
“Dancing?” said Jimmy, expressing what all the other men were obviously thinking. Of all of them, only Jimmy would be foolish enough to say it aloud.
“You never heard that,” said Tony, “and if you mention it to Abby I’ll tell her you sleep with a blankie.”
“I don’t sleep with a blankie!” Jimmy said indignantly.
“And you think that’ll stop me from telling her that anyway?”
Tony noticed that Ducky and Gibbs were both fighting grins. Ducky… hmm.
Tony turned to Ducky. Maybe he could do Abby a favor here. “Um, Ducky, you can ballroom dance, can’t you?”
“I was fairly good at tripping the light fantastic in my youth.”
“Well then, Ducky, maybe you could take Abby in my place?”
Ducky looked at him. “Now, Anthony, you know I don’t know any of the dances you young people do.”
“Yeah, but Ducky, this is standard ballroom dancing. I doubt it has changed in the last thirt…um, few years. And I know that Abby would enjoy dancing with you.” For good measure, he threw in one of his winsome grins trying to project earnestness and sincerity. Unfortunately, the old acting line came to his mind: “The most important thing is sincerity. If you can fake that you can do all the rest.”
Something must have worked, as Ducky stood a little straighter. “Really? I suppose I could do it for one evening.”
Thank God. “I’ll let Abby know. She was going to pick me up at 7:00.”
“I would tell her to meet me at NCIS after Mr. Palmer and I return the truck, but I have to go home and get my dancing shoes. Should I meet her somewhere?”
Dancing shoes? He must dance more than he’s letting on. “I’m sure," boy am I sure, he added mentally, "that she wouldn’t mind coming to your place to get you,” Tony replied, and he got out his cell phone and dialed Abby. “Hey, Abs, listen - something came up so I can’t go dancing… wait, let me finish… Ducky can go instead.” His phone shrieked at him. “Ducky!!! Ducky’s going with me? I love you Tony!” Ducky’s eyebrows rose, and Gibbs gave Tony a funny look. Obviously, they had all heard the shriek. Tony just hoped Ducky was flattered. Although come to think of it, much as he loved Abby, for the moment he was not that concerned about her and Ducky. He was going with Gibbs. For a drink. With Gibbs. Holy shit. He was going for a drink with Gibbs. He tried to turn the refrain off in his mind but it just kept going. Gibbs…drink… Gibbs…drink … Gibbs…drink. And Gibbs was already halfway to his car. Once again, Tony found himself running to catch up.
-/-/-
Tony practically threw himself into the passenger seat, slammed the door shut and buckled his seatbelt. Gibbs had started driving the moment Tony had got in the car and now he was staring ahead with a look of fixed determination on his face. In fact, he looked downright fierce, but that was nothing new for Gibbs. Tony couldn’t decide whether to be scared of the look, or ecstatic that he was riding with Gibbs to some place unknown, just the two of them, the closest he had ever gotten to a date with Gibbs. He didn’t care where they ended up; it was just him and Gibbs. He laid his head back on the seat’s headrest and daydreamed for a moment about sitting in a booth in a dark corner somewhere with Gibbs, shoulder-to-shoulder, feeling each other’s body warmth.
Suddenly Tony realized that Gibbs had stopped the car. He could sense Gibbs waiting expectantly, almost fearfully. That was a new concept. He had never pictured Gibbs as ever been afraid of anything. Tony opened his eyes cautiously and looked out the window. Holy shit, they were at Gibbs’ house! This was better then anything he had ever dared dream. Tony turned to look at Gibbs, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. Gibbs swallowed. Tony watched Gibbs’ Adam’s apple move, fascinated, and then Gibbs finally spoke. “I thought maybe it would be easier to come here, if you didn’t mind. I’m not really into sitting in a noisy bar somewhere.” Gibbs still looked uncomfortable. Meanwhile, Tony was sitting there stunned, his mind racing through images of the two of them sitting on the couch, lying on the floor, climbing up the stairs to the bedroom… He gave himself a mental headslap and turned to Gibbs, a brilliant smile on his face. “Good thinking, Boss. I’m too tired to sit in a bar anyway.” Gibbs let out a small puff of air. Tony hadn’t even realized the older man had been holding his breath waiting for Tony’s response, and then the two of them got out of the car and headed towards the house, Tony’s mind now showing him pictures in widescreen Technicolor. He just hoped he could make it to the couch without embarrassing himself.
-/-/-
Ducky was hovering by the front door, waiting for Abby to appear. He had settled his mother in front of the telly with her sitter and a large Gin and Tonic, so he nearly jumped out of his shoes (the regular ones, not the fancy dancing ones) when his mother’s voice came from directly behind his shoulder.
“What in Heaven’s name is wrong with you, Donald? You’re acting like you used to when you were a teenager going on your first date.”
Closing his eyes, Ducky wondered for the hundredth time why his mother always became lucid at the most inopportune moments. Maybe he would get lucky and she would forget about her question before he came home. “Mother, I’m just waiting for a coworker. I have to go somewhere tonight. Aren’t you missing your wrestling show?” and he gently gave her a little shove in the direction of the sitting room, then returned to the front door, hanging around it once more. When the doorbell rang, Ducky once again nearly jumped out of his skin, having forgotten that he was standing directly under the chime box. Not wanting to look too eager, he counted to ten before opening the door, revealing a grinning Abby standing on the porch, bouncing on her heels. He was surprised to notice that she had toned down her makeup for the evening, shedding some of the Goth look, plus she was wearing her hair so that the front was pulled away from her face but the back hung down so it would swing as she danced. Ducky thought she looked lovely.
In addition, Abby had on an elegant long black coat which Ducky had never seen before and which totally covered her outfit, but the effect was spoiled slightly by the fact that she was still wearing her boots, causing her to be taller than him by a few inches. He looked at her and grinning slightly said, “I trust you’re not planning to dance in those shoes, Abigail? If you step on my foot even once our evening will be over early.”
Abby was still grinning. “No, Duckman, I have proper dance shoes. It would be a shame if our evening ended prematurely,” and she opened her eyes wide at him. “Are you ready to go dancing?”
“Certainly, Abigail. On the way over could you give me some more details about the dancing we will be doing? Ballroom dancing is something of a wide term. It could mean foxtrot, tango, waltz, swing, or salsa.”
“Tony and I usually do all of them. Are there any you don’t know?” Abby replied.
“I think, my dear, that it’s less that I don’t know them and more whether my old bones and bad leg can manage them.”
“Duckman!! You are not old! You may be getting older, but you are not old. I like to think of you more as ‘distinguished.’”
Ducky felt a moment of pleasure. It had been a long time since a young female had said something like that to him. “Thank you, Abigail, my dear, but let’s see how tonight goes before you pass judgment on that.” He made a silent promise to Abby that he would try to do his best and hope she had a good time, as he had always been fond of the forensic scientist. After Gibbs, she might be his closest friend at NCIS.
As they had been having this conversation they had been walking to Abby’s car. Now Ducky suddenly realized that his etiquette lessons in his youth had never covered this situation. He had reached out automatically to open the car door for Abby, only to realize that she was the driver and how was he to handle that? Oh well, he thought, I’ll give it a try anyway and hope she doesn’t yell at me for being old-fashioned.
However, as it turned out, Abby beamed at him from the driver’s seat after he got in his, saying, “Such a gentlemen! None of the younger men I know are so well-mannered.” Ducky’s former moment of pleasure grew larger as Abby started the car and they drove off to the ballroom.
-/-/-
Gibbs opened his front door and with a curt gesture invited Tony in, then, once inside, he took Tony’s jacket and draped it over the stair railing, not bothering to hang it up. The silence was beginning to get to Tony, and so he said, “I see you’re still not locking the front door.”
“No one interested in getting in here,” Gibbs said, and waved Tony towards the living room.
Wanna bet? Tony thought as he looked at the living room, trying to decide the best place to sit. As he gazed around, he got a feeling of disuse and emptiness from the room. It would not have surprised Tony to find out that Gibbs only lived in the basement and his bedroom. Tony had seen the basement in the past; he wondered if he would ever see the bedroom, beginning to dream of being in Gibbs’ arms, in his bed, protected and warm, snuggling comfortably…
“Were you planning on sitting down?” Tony came back to himself with a start and discovered Gibbs looking at him with one eyebrow quirked up.
”Getting right to it, boss,” Tony said hurriedly. He quickly decided to sit on one end of the couch. His brain was telling him that if he took a chair then he’d never get close to Gibbs. His heart started to pound when he realized that Gibbs was actually going to sit next to him on the couch, sharing the space, within about a foot of him. To his ears, his heart’s pounding was so loud that he couldn’t believe that Gibbs hadn’t heard it. Gibbs leaned his head back against the top of the couch, kicking off his shoes and putting his feet on the coffee table. That seemed like a very good idea and Tony immediately moved to copy Gibbs. He couldn’t relax as he was not sure what to do around Gibbs, but at least he could try to look comfortable. Unfortunately, his body had tensed up at the thought of Gibbs being next to him and Tony couldn’t have been calm at that moment if he’d been shot with an elephant tranquilizer dart. All of his muscles were taut, poised to flee if he did something wrong in the next few minutes.
“Tony,” came a voice from the other end of the couch.
“Yeah, boss?” Tony said, noticing a note of weariness in Gibbs’ voice and wondering what the other man was going to say. He could think of a lot of statements that Gibbs could make - most of them not good for Tony.
“I invited you over to decompress and escape the effects of work. Call me ‘boss’ again tonight and you will be investigating the insides of trash cans for the rest of the week.”
Tony swallowed hard. “Yes, b... Um, what should I call you then?” He had never called Gibbs anything but ‘boss’ to his face.
Gibbs looked at him for a moment. Tony recognized the look; it was the one that said, “How did this moron ever graduate from kindergarten?” Sighing, Gibbs said, “Why not just call me Gibbs or is that too much of a stretch of the imagination?”
Great, thought Tony, worrying, I’ve pissed him off already and I haven’t even had a sip of my drink. Needing some quick courage, Tony took a large swallow of his own drink and nearly choked. “Gods, Bo…um Gibbs, what the hell is this?”
”Bourbon.”
“Are you sure it’s drinkable?”
Gibbs looked at him again, the glare back in his eyes, although this at least was the familiar one that translated as “Tony, don’t push me too far.” Right, thought Tony, why don’t I just keep my mouth shut? He took another mouthful and this time managed not to gasp. Either he was getting used to the drink, or his taste buds had all collapsed after the first sip. He was betting on the latter.
Gibbs stood up abruptly and left the room, causing Tony to worry about what was happening now. Had he insulted Gibbs? Was Gibbs upset with him? All of his insecurities were about to start spewing out when Tony realized with relief that Gibbs was returning. In addition, he had two six-packs of beer in his hands. Gibbs slammed the cans down on the coffee table, took two, gave one to Tony and popped open the other one for himself. With his head back on the couch, Gibbs, speaking to the ceiling, said “One last order for the night. No more talking until we finish the first six-pack.”
“Sounds good to me,” Tony replied and the two men started systematically trying to wash away the stress of the day.
-/-/-
Arriving at the ballroom, Ducky played the role of the gentleman to the hilt. He paid for the tickets over Abby’s strenuous objections, took her coat to the hatcheck, got the receipts, and then turned to put an arm around Abby and escort her in…and stopped dead as her dress, what little there was of it, caught his eye. For a second he thought he would actually have a heart attack. The dress, if it could be called that, was showing more skin than fabric. The whole outfit screamed “sex!” to the male in him. He had to dance with this? For a moment, he wondered if she wore the dress because she thought he was old and wouldn’t give her any problems. How depressing. However, upon looking around the dance floor he realized that most of the females were in dresses that were just as skimpy. Whatever happened to Ginger Roger’s style of gowns? Returning to the immediate problem, he wondered where the heck was he supposed to put his hands? He surreptitiously peered at her, working out logistics. No matter how he sliced it, he was going to end up having to put his hand on her bare back that evening. He gritted his teeth as various images flitted through his mind, and reminded himself that this was Abby, not just “some” woman. This was his coworker and he didn’t want to do anything to upset the relationship. Sure. Maybe if he kept telling himself that his body would believe it, if his body would ever bother to listen to his brain because some parts of his cerebral cortex were still checking out Abby’s dress. He just prayed he wasn’t blushing.
Entering the ballroom, Ducky was relieved to see the couples on the floor were doing a foxtrot. He was sure he could manage to get through that without embarrassment. Then he realized he hadn’t changed his shoes. So much for not embarrassing himself. He managed a weak grin. “I’m sorry, Abigail, but I forgot to leave my shoes in the cloakroom. Would you excuse me for a moment, my dear?”
“Of course, Duckman. I’ll go grab that empty table over there while you do that.”
Ducky raced to change his shoes and rejoin Abby. In his absence, the dance music had changed to a cha-cha. “So, Abigail, what sort of dances do you and Anthony do?”
“We vary by week, Ducky. This happened to be a ballroom week, so it will mainly be Waltzes, Quick Steps and Tangos. Some weeks we go swing dancing and other weeks we line dance.”
”I’m fortunate it was a ballroom night then,” Ducky replied.
”So am I,” Abby said, glowing at him. At that moment, the music changed to a two-step.
”Shall we?” said Ducky, offering his arm and the two of them went out on the dance floor.
After a while, they returned to the table a little thirsty and breathless. Ducky looked at Abby, noticed that she was panting, slightly flushed and looking a little warm, and asked, “Would you like me to get you some sort of beverage?”
“That would be so sweet,” Abby replied. “But they don’t have Caf-Pow. How about just water?”
Nodding, Ducky went towards the bar to get beverages… and hopefully to forget the image of Abby flushed and panting.
-/-/-
Gibbs had made a sizeable dent in the beer inventory. As far as Tony could tell, Gibbs had had four or five beers now. Tony wasn’t sure because he was discovering that he couldn’t drink them as quickly as Gibbs did. Wait, scratch that. He could drink them that quickly, but he didn’t hold his liquor nearly as well as Gibbs appeared to be doing. If he wanted to be able to do anything of interest later that evening, he had better slow down his intake. In addition, Tony was pretty damn sure that every time Gibbs had reached for a beer he had moved a little closer to Tony, which Tony took to be a good thing. A very good thing. Of course, Tony had also been inching marginally closer to Gibbs with each drink so now only a few inches separated them. A few inches of air, and miles of worry. Tony couldn’t decide if Gibbs was truly moving towards him or if it was just wishful thinking.
Feeling the need to walk away for a moment, Tony stood up to go to the bathroom. Unfortunately, the floor and walls did not move along properly with him and he found himself swaying on his feet. Immediately, Gibbs was right there beside him, putting an arm around him, concern in his voice as he said, “You all right there?”
“Guess I stood up too fast. I was going to take a leak.”
“I’d better help you,” said Gibbs, and he moved Tony towards the bathroom, piloting him by the arm that was still around Tony. “You need any help?”
“Not unless you want to hold my penis for me,” Tony said, and then gasped. Had he really said that? Christ, how drunk was he?
“How drunk are you?” Were the voices repeating in his head? No, it was just Gibbs saying what Tony had been thinking. He hated it when Gibbs read minds.
“Um, I, um…” Tony turned red. He felt like his tongue had grown huge and rooted to the top of his mouth. It definitely wouldn’t move now so that Tony could speak. Which, come to think of it, might not be a bad thing, given the last ghastly remark he had made.
Gibbs was looking at him, the corner of his mouth slightly quirked up. “Is that your usual pick-up line? I thought from what you claimed at work you were smoother than that.”
Tony’s voice came out in a squeak. “Um, that just kind of slipped out. It was unintentional, boss - um, Gibbs.” To gain some distance, and put an end to the conversation, Tony turned his back to Gibbs and started using the toilet. He was so deeply involved in concentrating on not thinking about Gibbs that he didn’t notice when Gibbs moved up behind him, until suddenly a hand reached around Tony and took hold of his dick. “Is this what you wanted?” Gibbs said in his ear. Thank God, Tony was about done, or he would have sprayed the bathroom with urine when he jumped.
“Christ, Gibbs, warn me before you do that next time!”
“Next time?” an amused voice said in his ear. “Shall I do it again?”
Tony lost all power of speech. This was weirder than anything he had ever thought of in his dreams – standing over a toilet with Gibbs’ hand on him. It was, literally, a sobering experience. Just to make sure he knew what was going on he moved back slightly until his ass was touching Gibbs. Oh yesss… Gibbs was interested, based on the hard cock digging into Tony’s rear. Then Gibbs took his hands, put them on Tony’s hips and pressed his dick into Tony’s ass with a gasp. Tony wished fervently that the two of them hadn’t been dressed, then realized that could be taken care of shortly.
Tony turned so that he was facing Gibbs, lifted his hands and placed them on Gibbs’ cheeks. “Was there something you had in mind besides drinking?”
Gibbs’ eyes caught Tony’s and Tony noticed the other man’s eyes had become dark and glittering with just a rim of blue showing. That was enough for Tony and he leaned in and gently kissed Gibbs on the mouth. In response, Gibbs turned his head slightly so their lips made better contact and then deepened the kiss. After a few minutes, Tony realized he was becoming dizzy again and grabbed Gibbs’ shoulders. However, it wasn’t the booze affecting him this time, it was lack of air. He’d gotten so involved in the kiss he’d forgotten to breathe.
A gentle laugh, a type he’d never heard Gibbs make before, sounded in his ear. “Well, now that you’ve seen the living room and bathroom, would you like a tour of the bedroom?”
“Right behind you, boss.”
-/-/-
While Tony was indulging his baser side, Ducky, who was waltzing with Abby, was trying to convince himself that he didn’t have one. It was hard, so to speak, because Abby seemed to do a lot of touching when she danced. He didn’t remember the waltz being quite so physical in his day. For that matter, he distinctly remembered his teachers insisting on two inches of air between the male and female. He would have been hard-pressed to fit a sheet of litmus paper between him and Abby. Goodness gracious, there was that word again, “hard.” Think of cricket, he told himself sternly. He tried to put a little distance between them so that he wouldn’t embarrass himself or Abby, but she followed right along. Good Lord, where those her breasts pressing into his arm?
The music changed and Abby bounced, which did all sorts of things to Ducky’s arm as her body moved up and down, then she turned to him excitedly. “A tango! You know what they call the tango don’t you?”
Hell yes, he did, but did she? Apparently so, because she continued, “Making love vertically!” and gave him a look that sparked a response in every male part of his body. In days to come if someone had offered him a million dollars to tell them how the rest of the night went, he couldn’t have done it. From the time of the tango on, the night was a blur of dancing, holding Abby close, enjoying the feel of her moving against him. He had no idea later how he had managed to dance, as his brain stopped concentrating on the steps but instead kept thinking of other interesting things to do with Abby.
Eventually, of course, the dancing ended for the night, Ducky retrieved their coats and Abby drove him home. When they got to his house, he discovered that once again he was at a total loss as to how to handle things. Well, Abby had been managing everything quite well (very well, his mind supplied) up until now, he probably could just follow her lead. And lead she did, walking him from the car to his front door. Leaning in close to him with her mouth by his cheek, and speaking in a sultrier voice than he normally associated with her, she said, “We’ll have to do this again next week.”
He was just considering whether it would proper to kiss her when the porch light snapped on, the front door was yanked open and a voice said, “Just what are you up to Donald?” He closed his eyes briefly. His mother had a disconcerting habit of showing up at just the wrong moment. “Just saying goodbye to Abigail, Mother. You remember her from the office.” His mother leaned sideways to peer around Ducky and stare at Abby. In response, Abby put her lips against Ducky’s ear and whispered, “Maybe next time you should drive,” then waved somewhat cheekily at Mrs. Mallard and headed down the steps to her car.
It took Ducky a full minute to wipe the grin off his face before he turned to answer his mother.
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Date: 2007-08-15 01:24 pm (UTC)to Gibbs stapling him to the boat in his basement and sandpapering him raw, especially on Tony’s body’s private spots (although that one seemed unlikely as Gibbs would never hurt the boat.) The numerous head slaps had proved that Gibbs had no worries about hurting Tony.
*snort*
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Date: 2007-08-15 02:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 03:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 05:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 07:24 pm (UTC)As for the rest of it - *flails* just utterly, utterly wonderful. I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful or appropriate story. It is just perfect and wonderful and... simply awesome.
I do hope that you come back to this amazing 'verse that you've created and write more for it. Don't know about anyone else but I would love to read it!
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
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Date: 2007-08-15 07:42 pm (UTC)It does feel unfinished doesn't it? Poor Ducky hasn't had any sex and he really could use it.
Unfortunately, Gibbs and Tony were resisting getting together and I burned out on the story trying to convince them to go for it. I need a few weeks away from it. I do think it calls for a sequel - with Ducky driving
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Date: 2007-08-15 07:45 pm (UTC)“The most important thing is sincerity. If you can fake that you can do all the rest.”
Nice icon, snicker
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Date: 2007-08-15 08:19 pm (UTC)Oh and
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Date: 2007-08-15 10:58 pm (UTC)If I pulled out my favorite lines this comment would contain half your story. I do have to pick out a few:
A few inches of air, and miles of worry.
Ducky, who was waltzing with Abby, was trying to convince himself that he didn’t have one. It was hard, so to speak, because Abby seemed to do a lot of touching when she danced. He didn’t remember the waltz being quite so physical in his day.
Ducky came up behind them. “You know, I met someone when I was younger who also said he was ‘The Doctor’. He didn’t look anything like you; he had this really long striped scarf that I remember…”
“That was me, half a dozen regenerations ago,” the Doctor said, looking at Ducky.
My fav, though, was the long paragraph at the begining, about Abby working that Ducky thought himself as her "uncle (giggle!) and Tony thinking Gibbs might sandpaper him to death. And this line : So they clung to each other and to their fantasies and no one else was any the wiser.
Brava, my dear!
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Date: 2007-08-16 01:57 am (UTC)The opening, by the way, is a homage to
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Date: 2007-08-16 05:41 am (UTC)I like the simpler "Uncle" in this case, because I crack up when ever DmC or RV and the word Uncle are paired together outside of MFU
Does she write NCIS?
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Date: 2007-08-16 07:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-16 01:55 pm (UTC)http://community.livejournal.com/ncis_ficathon/4171.html
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Date: 2007-08-16 02:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-16 02:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-16 11:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-17 04:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-06 05:23 pm (UTC)This is great! The world needs more Ducky/Abby! :D