Nine-Tenths Of The Law by Ashleigh Anpilova
TITLE: Nine-Tenths Of The Law
AUTHOR: Ashleigh Anpilova
PAIRING: Leroy Jethro Gibbs/Donald 'Ducky' Mallard
CHARACTERS: Gibbs, Ducky
GENRE: Slash
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Ducky gets possessive.
CHALLENGE Amnesty 2008 - 'Games'
WORD COUNT: 855
AUTHORS NOTE: For sorekai who likes the idea of a 'possessive Ducky'
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. I merely borrow them from time to time.
CHRISTMAS EVE: DECEMBER 2008
Having topped up his glass with red wine (Jethro was driving them home) Ducky turned and looked across the room to where he had left his lover.
For the first time in his life he saw red. And it wasn't the color of the FBI Agent's hair; it was the way she was looking at his Jethro. And more importantly, far more importantly, the way his Jethro was looking at her.
Suddenly Ducky had had enough. He'd always known it had to happen one day; even he couldn't turn a blind eye forever. He had done it for thirty-three years, throughout four marriages, Jennifer Shepard, and other affairs - but not any longer. He had put up with enough, more than enough, over the years.
Never once had he asked Jethro to choose, and it wasn't just because he had been afraid his lover might not choose him, but playing that kind of emotional blackmail game had never appealed to Ducky. And he wouldn't play the game now, but he was going to do something. He had always known, he knew that now, the day would come when he finally admitted he deserved more. It seemed that tonight was to be the night.
Tonight was to be the night. Jethro had one chance and if he failed to take it, Ducky would walk away. Walk away from Jethro; walk away from NCIS; walk away from the children; walk away the United States. Walk away from his old life and begin a new one.
Putting the glass back down on the table and ignoring the fact that some of the wine slopped over the edge, he began to make his way across the dance floor, ignoring anyone and everyone who spoke to him, to where Jethro and the woman stood.
He put his hand on Jethro's arm and closed his fingers around it, making the gesture extremely possessive. "Excuse me, Agent Gibbs," he said, his tone cool. "Your presence is required elsewhere."
Jethro glanced down at him and blinked. For a second Ducky held his breath and forced himself to meet the dark gaze. He half expected Jethro to shake him off, to look annoyed, to frown; to tell Ducky he was busy.
Instead, a look Ducky hadn't seen before, and couldn't identify, settled on the handsome face, and the dark eyes flashed with a look that was half speculation and half - again Ducky couldn't identify it. "Is it, Dr. Mallard?" he said, his full attention now firmly on Ducky.
"Oh, yes," Ducky said. Now he turned from Jethro to the woman. "And I am afraid there is little point you waiting around. Jethro will not be returning to you." He saw her eyes widen in astonishment and she glanced over his shoulder to where Jethro stood.
Ducky turned his gaze in the same direction. Again he was expecting Jethro to show some kind of annoyance; again the look was far from being irritated. Again it was speculative and . . . Pleased? Relieved? Had Jethro been waiting for Ducky to do something like this? And if so for how many years had he been waiting? Could it be . . . ?
He pushed his thoughts away and instead turned his attention back to the immediate. "Well?" he demanded, his hand still holding Jethro's arm. "Are you coming with me?"
"Oh, yeah. Sure am, Duck." And then with only the briefest of quick glances at the woman and a muttered. "Sorry, got to go," Jethro let Ducky lead him away.
Ducky led him back the way he'd gone, across the dance floor - oddly enough it was less congested than the outside of the room. Halfway across, he stopped and turned to look up at Jethro. "You are mine," he said calmly. "Mine. Do you hear me, Jethro? You. Are. Mine. And you will not ever forget that again. You are mine. And mine alone. There will be no one else for you. Not now. Not ever. No one. You are mine." He repeated the words one more time. "Well?" he demanded, when Jethro said nothing. "Aren't you going to say anything?"
Jethro licked his lips and his eyes flashed with more love than Ducky had ever seen directed at him. He almost gasped as he saw the pure devotion in the dark blue gaze. "Going to prove that, are you, Duck?" Jethro said, his tone sultry.
Just for a second Ducky hesitated. And then he decided to hell with it. Director Vance had dropped more than one hint about his age and retirement and even if he hadn't done so, Ducky no longer cared. The people who mattered to him, the five children and Tobias (who was now the 'lucky' recipient of the red haired woman who had been with Jethro) all knew about the relationship between NCIS's Senior Special Agent and their Medical Examiner.
"Yes," he said softly, letting go of Jethro's arm in order to slide his arms around Jethro's neck, pull his head down and move his mouth towards his. "Yes," he repeated, just before their lips met. "I certainly am."
AUTHOR: Ashleigh Anpilova
PAIRING: Leroy Jethro Gibbs/Donald 'Ducky' Mallard
CHARACTERS: Gibbs, Ducky
GENRE: Slash
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Ducky gets possessive.
CHALLENGE Amnesty 2008 - 'Games'
WORD COUNT: 855
AUTHORS NOTE: For sorekai who likes the idea of a 'possessive Ducky'
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. I merely borrow them from time to time.
CHRISTMAS EVE: DECEMBER 2008
Having topped up his glass with red wine (Jethro was driving them home) Ducky turned and looked across the room to where he had left his lover.
For the first time in his life he saw red. And it wasn't the color of the FBI Agent's hair; it was the way she was looking at his Jethro. And more importantly, far more importantly, the way his Jethro was looking at her.
Suddenly Ducky had had enough. He'd always known it had to happen one day; even he couldn't turn a blind eye forever. He had done it for thirty-three years, throughout four marriages, Jennifer Shepard, and other affairs - but not any longer. He had put up with enough, more than enough, over the years.
Never once had he asked Jethro to choose, and it wasn't just because he had been afraid his lover might not choose him, but playing that kind of emotional blackmail game had never appealed to Ducky. And he wouldn't play the game now, but he was going to do something. He had always known, he knew that now, the day would come when he finally admitted he deserved more. It seemed that tonight was to be the night.
Tonight was to be the night. Jethro had one chance and if he failed to take it, Ducky would walk away. Walk away from Jethro; walk away from NCIS; walk away from the children; walk away the United States. Walk away from his old life and begin a new one.
Putting the glass back down on the table and ignoring the fact that some of the wine slopped over the edge, he began to make his way across the dance floor, ignoring anyone and everyone who spoke to him, to where Jethro and the woman stood.
He put his hand on Jethro's arm and closed his fingers around it, making the gesture extremely possessive. "Excuse me, Agent Gibbs," he said, his tone cool. "Your presence is required elsewhere."
Jethro glanced down at him and blinked. For a second Ducky held his breath and forced himself to meet the dark gaze. He half expected Jethro to shake him off, to look annoyed, to frown; to tell Ducky he was busy.
Instead, a look Ducky hadn't seen before, and couldn't identify, settled on the handsome face, and the dark eyes flashed with a look that was half speculation and half - again Ducky couldn't identify it. "Is it, Dr. Mallard?" he said, his full attention now firmly on Ducky.
"Oh, yes," Ducky said. Now he turned from Jethro to the woman. "And I am afraid there is little point you waiting around. Jethro will not be returning to you." He saw her eyes widen in astonishment and she glanced over his shoulder to where Jethro stood.
Ducky turned his gaze in the same direction. Again he was expecting Jethro to show some kind of annoyance; again the look was far from being irritated. Again it was speculative and . . . Pleased? Relieved? Had Jethro been waiting for Ducky to do something like this? And if so for how many years had he been waiting? Could it be . . . ?
He pushed his thoughts away and instead turned his attention back to the immediate. "Well?" he demanded, his hand still holding Jethro's arm. "Are you coming with me?"
"Oh, yeah. Sure am, Duck." And then with only the briefest of quick glances at the woman and a muttered. "Sorry, got to go," Jethro let Ducky lead him away.
Ducky led him back the way he'd gone, across the dance floor - oddly enough it was less congested than the outside of the room. Halfway across, he stopped and turned to look up at Jethro. "You are mine," he said calmly. "Mine. Do you hear me, Jethro? You. Are. Mine. And you will not ever forget that again. You are mine. And mine alone. There will be no one else for you. Not now. Not ever. No one. You are mine." He repeated the words one more time. "Well?" he demanded, when Jethro said nothing. "Aren't you going to say anything?"
Jethro licked his lips and his eyes flashed with more love than Ducky had ever seen directed at him. He almost gasped as he saw the pure devotion in the dark blue gaze. "Going to prove that, are you, Duck?" Jethro said, his tone sultry.
Just for a second Ducky hesitated. And then he decided to hell with it. Director Vance had dropped more than one hint about his age and retirement and even if he hadn't done so, Ducky no longer cared. The people who mattered to him, the five children and Tobias (who was now the 'lucky' recipient of the red haired woman who had been with Jethro) all knew about the relationship between NCIS's Senior Special Agent and their Medical Examiner.
"Yes," he said softly, letting go of Jethro's arm in order to slide his arms around Jethro's neck, pull his head down and move his mouth towards his. "Yes," he repeated, just before their lips met. "I certainly am."