Yuletide Gift Exchange for periwinkle
Title: Faded Memories
Author: strainconductor
Recipient's name: periwinkle27
Pairing: Gibbs/Ducky
Genre: Slash ooo My first ('cept fer the drabble Nikki yush)...hopefully it came out okis
Subgenre: Established Relationship, Relationship not known by others, Ducky using Irony
Words: 1633
Summary: What is it, What do you have...when you remember? Or what of when you forget
Happy Holidays Mon Amie, may you have the sweetest of days, sweetest of lovings, as such a person as thee, deserves it
“The best memory is that which forgets nothing but injuries. Write kindness in marble and write injuries in the dust.”
~Persian Proverb
There was a brief sigh of content, followed by a gentle shifting of pillows and blankets. There were no words, only a thoughtful silence between the two men. Outside the storm clouds were gathering, casting a greenish-grey hue across the sky. The leafless tree branches lightly scraped against the windows, causing a consistent beat. Calm and alluring, a beckoning, and one of the men abided and made his way to the window.
He stood, placing the back of his hand against the glass, and he gave a tiny smile at the cool feeling and gently took his hand away as he sensed his lover’s presence behind him. There was a small intake of breath, followed by a faint blow of air that tickled the man’s ear, and he shivered with delight. However, the air was not aiming for such a target, no matter how convenient it was, but rather the window.
The window was blurred with the new moisture, and the older man watched with delight as his friend slowly traced the letters JG followed by the shape of a heart…and then finally the initials DM.
The man gave a sly smile, and leaned in towards the other’s hair. There was another sigh, the same one as earlier, as he once again took the scent of Ducky’s shampoo.
“Duck, just what exactly do you use...to make you smell…so damn good.” The older man gave the familiar smile, secretive and pleased as his eyes sparkled with the childlike mischievous gleam in his eyes.
“It’s a family recipe, Mother used it on me since I was a babe, and ever since she moved back in with me, she insists on me using it. I believe that perhaps it is so she shall never forget me. She is so afraid Jethro, that one day she’ll wake up, and forget that I am her son…” The special agent said nothing, his eyes closed, and finally after a pause he mumbled into his hair.
“How can anyone forget you, when you smell so good…”
“Well, may I remind you my dear Jethro…” Ducky began in a teasing tone, when he paused, unsure if his lover would take his joking in the wrong way. He quickly changed the point he was trying to make with a lame “…that you don’t smell so bad yourself.” Ducky sniffed with a dramatic air, and grinned.
“Ah yes, the Marine who smells of…” a couple more theatric sniffs “Sawdust and coffee.”
Gibbs chuckled, and continued resting his head upon Ducky’s. His eyes were watching the tree branch bend, as well as the fluttering birds scampering to escape the sudden onslaught of cold.
“Should we be worried Duck?”
“Why Jethro, do you not believe we can handle a little storm?”
There was a tight smile on the agent’s face, and he began leaning into Ducky once more, but faltered when the older man pulled away, his hand trailing against the wall as he made his way to the other window.
“Isn’t it funny…” Ducky began, chuckling without humor “how our memories seem to define us? How who we are begins with what we remember?”
“I don’t think that’s true Duck.” Gibbs began, unsure where Ducky was heading with this new topic, there was a sadness in his lover’s eyes, his friend’s eyes. It was all that Gibbs could do to stop himself from just conquering him with a kiss and leading him back to bed, and to make such despair disappear. But this was a sadness, that if not talked about, would not disappear, merely fade and rear its dull tones again.
“I have become my father.” Now a small amused smile curved upon the medical examiner’s face. “When I was just a lad…now this was a long time ago, my dear…”
“Not that long.” Gibbs reassured, still attempting to gain Ducky’s warmth, but Ducky kept shifting, and moving around, oblivious to Gibbs attempts. Just as well, Gibbs wondered if he would actually listen to what Ducky had to say once he was wrapped up in his scent. The rich velvet tones of his voice soothed him like no one else could.
“My father would tell the same stories over and over again. When I first heard them, they were brilliant, amazing, and unbelievable. However, when they began to repeat, I grew tired of them. I thought to myself ‘I hope that doesn’t happen to me when I get older, no I won’t let it’. I will only tell exciting stories, and I won’t bore people to death.”
“You’ve never been boring Ducky.”
“To you, maybe…” here Ducky raised his eyebrow in doubt, and he continued the somber expression covering his face once more. “I understand my father now.”
“You do? I never thought it was possible to understand fathers.” A slight exchange of chuckles, the deepness of Ducky’s statement forgotten for a brief moment as once more the situation became that of two old friends sharing a laugh.
“It seems as if only in his death could I fully understand him…only in death can I understand so many…”
“Ducky…?” Gibbs whispered, a slight lace of concern sewn in his voice. “You all right?”
“Of course my dear. There’s no need to worry about me.” Ducky responded, dismissing his friend’s concern.
“No need? Duck…I’ll always worry about you.” A tiny smile, and a murmured thanks was the doctor’s reply, and he continued on, not allowing such an epiphany escape him.
“My father, it seems, told the stories for his benefit. I always thought he was trying to impress me, but now I see…” Ducky trailed off, his gaze focused upon a crow that had just landed upon the windowsill. “Now I see, that he needed his stories. He needed to remember what he accomplished, that he had some purpose, that life was not meaningless…and that he had something to share to the rest of the world.”
“Ah, Ducky…”
“It’s a silly thought, but it makes sense. Even though he had my mother and, well of course he had me…it wasn’t enough you see…because we were his future…his past could not be forgotten…”
“Ducky…” Now Gibbs was getting slightly worried, Duck seemed to have left this present time. His voice was detached, as if he were channeling across the decades.
“I forgot Jethro.” Came the whisper, and Dr. Donald Mallard was no longer. The whisper was that of a frightened child, scared of the monsters lurking under his bed. Or in this case, his head.
“Duck?”
“I forgot where I was for a moment. I forgot…”
“That’s nothing to worry about Duck, it always takes me a while to remember where I am when I wake up…it isn’t until I see….”
“…you. I forgot who you were Jethro.”
A silence. A deafening silence, a silence in which so much was heard, so much was said, and yet, still it was silent. The tree branches continued to dance, the birds continued to caw and scream, and the crow ruffled his feathers and puffed up, his beak open, and yet only silence came forth.
Finally. A voice.
“But you know now, right?”
“Jethro!”
“I guess that answer my question,” a teasing smile playing across the agent’s lips. “Ducky, so you forgot for a little bit who I was, if I may remind you, I bet I forgot who you were longer than you forgot me…”
“But Jethro…” Ducky’s eyes held panic and worry, and a look that Gibbs hated seeing upon his lover’s face, fear.
“But nothing Ducky, you think I’ll give you a chance to forget me?”
“I-”
“Ducky, how can you forget me, when you’ll always have me?”
“Jethro, I ju-”
“Look, Duck…I’ll be by your side, forever and always…I’ll remind you each morning and each night of who I am.”
“Oh, Jethro…” Ducky sighed with affection, and he finally allowed his lover to lean into him, which Gibbs quickly took advantage of. He began kissing the doctor’s neck, and continued talking between each one.
“You said- that telling stories- helped you remember?” Ducky gave a quick happy smile, and nodded, causing Gibbs to shift slightly in his attack.
“Well how about you-tell stories-of me?”
“Mmmhmm? Of you my dear?”
“Sure-scare the kids with - tales of the young - brash Navy officer-”
“But that’s not what I want to remember.” Ducky smiled, matching the gifted kisses with some of his own.
“Perhaps I’ll tell them-of this…” A slight shiver and a kiss “and this” another kiss “and perhaps just one more tale of this” a final kiss as Ducky found his target, his lover’s, his partner’s, his friend’s lips.
They parted after a while, each one receiving the same pleasure from the action, and they both turned to the window once again. Listening to the music of the outside world, the leaves scraping along, the tree branches still scraping, and the wind howled a beautiful tone of peace.
“You could tell them…” Gibbs finally spoke up with a whisper, and Ducky’s eyes twinkled.
“Oh?”
“So long as I get to tell the time we were…” and Gibbs seductively whispered into Ducky’s ear, reminding him of the time, and Ducky blushed and gave a short chuckle.
“Now that I do remember, no need to tell them that.” Gibbs leaned down and pecked Ducky on the forehead, and then began the dance. Each of them was too busy to notice that the crow had finally leaped from his edge.
The bird flew straight and true, gliding through the air, braving the harsh winds, and not letting anything get in its path.
Nothing would stop it.
For he…
For they…
Could brave any storm.
The End
Author: strainconductor
Recipient's name: periwinkle27
Pairing: Gibbs/Ducky
Genre: Slash ooo My first ('cept fer the drabble Nikki yush)...hopefully it came out okis
Subgenre: Established Relationship, Relationship not known by others, Ducky using Irony
Words: 1633
Summary: What is it, What do you have...when you remember? Or what of when you forget
Happy Holidays Mon Amie, may you have the sweetest of days, sweetest of lovings, as such a person as thee, deserves it
“The best memory is that which forgets nothing but injuries. Write kindness in marble and write injuries in the dust.”
~Persian Proverb
There was a brief sigh of content, followed by a gentle shifting of pillows and blankets. There were no words, only a thoughtful silence between the two men. Outside the storm clouds were gathering, casting a greenish-grey hue across the sky. The leafless tree branches lightly scraped against the windows, causing a consistent beat. Calm and alluring, a beckoning, and one of the men abided and made his way to the window.
He stood, placing the back of his hand against the glass, and he gave a tiny smile at the cool feeling and gently took his hand away as he sensed his lover’s presence behind him. There was a small intake of breath, followed by a faint blow of air that tickled the man’s ear, and he shivered with delight. However, the air was not aiming for such a target, no matter how convenient it was, but rather the window.
The window was blurred with the new moisture, and the older man watched with delight as his friend slowly traced the letters JG followed by the shape of a heart…and then finally the initials DM.
The man gave a sly smile, and leaned in towards the other’s hair. There was another sigh, the same one as earlier, as he once again took the scent of Ducky’s shampoo.
“Duck, just what exactly do you use...to make you smell…so damn good.” The older man gave the familiar smile, secretive and pleased as his eyes sparkled with the childlike mischievous gleam in his eyes.
“It’s a family recipe, Mother used it on me since I was a babe, and ever since she moved back in with me, she insists on me using it. I believe that perhaps it is so she shall never forget me. She is so afraid Jethro, that one day she’ll wake up, and forget that I am her son…” The special agent said nothing, his eyes closed, and finally after a pause he mumbled into his hair.
“How can anyone forget you, when you smell so good…”
“Well, may I remind you my dear Jethro…” Ducky began in a teasing tone, when he paused, unsure if his lover would take his joking in the wrong way. He quickly changed the point he was trying to make with a lame “…that you don’t smell so bad yourself.” Ducky sniffed with a dramatic air, and grinned.
“Ah yes, the Marine who smells of…” a couple more theatric sniffs “Sawdust and coffee.”
Gibbs chuckled, and continued resting his head upon Ducky’s. His eyes were watching the tree branch bend, as well as the fluttering birds scampering to escape the sudden onslaught of cold.
“Should we be worried Duck?”
“Why Jethro, do you not believe we can handle a little storm?”
There was a tight smile on the agent’s face, and he began leaning into Ducky once more, but faltered when the older man pulled away, his hand trailing against the wall as he made his way to the other window.
“Isn’t it funny…” Ducky began, chuckling without humor “how our memories seem to define us? How who we are begins with what we remember?”
“I don’t think that’s true Duck.” Gibbs began, unsure where Ducky was heading with this new topic, there was a sadness in his lover’s eyes, his friend’s eyes. It was all that Gibbs could do to stop himself from just conquering him with a kiss and leading him back to bed, and to make such despair disappear. But this was a sadness, that if not talked about, would not disappear, merely fade and rear its dull tones again.
“I have become my father.” Now a small amused smile curved upon the medical examiner’s face. “When I was just a lad…now this was a long time ago, my dear…”
“Not that long.” Gibbs reassured, still attempting to gain Ducky’s warmth, but Ducky kept shifting, and moving around, oblivious to Gibbs attempts. Just as well, Gibbs wondered if he would actually listen to what Ducky had to say once he was wrapped up in his scent. The rich velvet tones of his voice soothed him like no one else could.
“My father would tell the same stories over and over again. When I first heard them, they were brilliant, amazing, and unbelievable. However, when they began to repeat, I grew tired of them. I thought to myself ‘I hope that doesn’t happen to me when I get older, no I won’t let it’. I will only tell exciting stories, and I won’t bore people to death.”
“You’ve never been boring Ducky.”
“To you, maybe…” here Ducky raised his eyebrow in doubt, and he continued the somber expression covering his face once more. “I understand my father now.”
“You do? I never thought it was possible to understand fathers.” A slight exchange of chuckles, the deepness of Ducky’s statement forgotten for a brief moment as once more the situation became that of two old friends sharing a laugh.
“It seems as if only in his death could I fully understand him…only in death can I understand so many…”
“Ducky…?” Gibbs whispered, a slight lace of concern sewn in his voice. “You all right?”
“Of course my dear. There’s no need to worry about me.” Ducky responded, dismissing his friend’s concern.
“No need? Duck…I’ll always worry about you.” A tiny smile, and a murmured thanks was the doctor’s reply, and he continued on, not allowing such an epiphany escape him.
“My father, it seems, told the stories for his benefit. I always thought he was trying to impress me, but now I see…” Ducky trailed off, his gaze focused upon a crow that had just landed upon the windowsill. “Now I see, that he needed his stories. He needed to remember what he accomplished, that he had some purpose, that life was not meaningless…and that he had something to share to the rest of the world.”
“Ah, Ducky…”
“It’s a silly thought, but it makes sense. Even though he had my mother and, well of course he had me…it wasn’t enough you see…because we were his future…his past could not be forgotten…”
“Ducky…” Now Gibbs was getting slightly worried, Duck seemed to have left this present time. His voice was detached, as if he were channeling across the decades.
“I forgot Jethro.” Came the whisper, and Dr. Donald Mallard was no longer. The whisper was that of a frightened child, scared of the monsters lurking under his bed. Or in this case, his head.
“Duck?”
“I forgot where I was for a moment. I forgot…”
“That’s nothing to worry about Duck, it always takes me a while to remember where I am when I wake up…it isn’t until I see….”
“…you. I forgot who you were Jethro.”
A silence. A deafening silence, a silence in which so much was heard, so much was said, and yet, still it was silent. The tree branches continued to dance, the birds continued to caw and scream, and the crow ruffled his feathers and puffed up, his beak open, and yet only silence came forth.
Finally. A voice.
“But you know now, right?”
“Jethro!”
“I guess that answer my question,” a teasing smile playing across the agent’s lips. “Ducky, so you forgot for a little bit who I was, if I may remind you, I bet I forgot who you were longer than you forgot me…”
“But Jethro…” Ducky’s eyes held panic and worry, and a look that Gibbs hated seeing upon his lover’s face, fear.
“But nothing Ducky, you think I’ll give you a chance to forget me?”
“I-”
“Ducky, how can you forget me, when you’ll always have me?”
“Jethro, I ju-”
“Look, Duck…I’ll be by your side, forever and always…I’ll remind you each morning and each night of who I am.”
“Oh, Jethro…” Ducky sighed with affection, and he finally allowed his lover to lean into him, which Gibbs quickly took advantage of. He began kissing the doctor’s neck, and continued talking between each one.
“You said- that telling stories- helped you remember?” Ducky gave a quick happy smile, and nodded, causing Gibbs to shift slightly in his attack.
“Well how about you-tell stories-of me?”
“Mmmhmm? Of you my dear?”
“Sure-scare the kids with - tales of the young - brash Navy officer-”
“But that’s not what I want to remember.” Ducky smiled, matching the gifted kisses with some of his own.
“Perhaps I’ll tell them-of this…” A slight shiver and a kiss “and this” another kiss “and perhaps just one more tale of this” a final kiss as Ducky found his target, his lover’s, his partner’s, his friend’s lips.
They parted after a while, each one receiving the same pleasure from the action, and they both turned to the window once again. Listening to the music of the outside world, the leaves scraping along, the tree branches still scraping, and the wind howled a beautiful tone of peace.
“You could tell them…” Gibbs finally spoke up with a whisper, and Ducky’s eyes twinkled.
“Oh?”
“So long as I get to tell the time we were…” and Gibbs seductively whispered into Ducky’s ear, reminding him of the time, and Ducky blushed and gave a short chuckle.
“Now that I do remember, no need to tell them that.” Gibbs leaned down and pecked Ducky on the forehead, and then began the dance. Each of them was too busy to notice that the crow had finally leaped from his edge.
The bird flew straight and true, gliding through the air, braving the harsh winds, and not letting anything get in its path.
Nothing would stop it.
For he…
For they…
Could brave any storm.
The End