Fiction: Sail Away
TITLE: Sail Away
AUTHOR: ashley_pitt
FANDOM: NCIS
PAIRINGS: Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Donald “Ducky” Mallard
GENRE: Slash
PROMPT: Gibbs/Ducky Sailing
WORD COUNT: 990
WARNINGS: nah
SUMMARY: Gibbs and Ducky experience Lake Huron in a Thirty-foot sailboat.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. I borrow them once in awhile, but put them away tidily.
“Hey Duck, we are going on a cruise.” Gibbs said one day in mid-May.
“A cruise ? You know I am not fond of those large cruise ships…too much like a floating city.”
“Well I was thinking of a little smaller boat…say about thirty feet.”
“I am puzzled, Jethro.”
“A friend of mine does the Port Huron to Mackinac race every year. Once they get up to the island, most of the crew heads home and he needs someone to bring the boat back.”
“Hmmm, I shall think about it ..”
“Too late, I already put in for our vacations ” Gibbs said with a grin.
July 2007
They took a small plane up to the Island.
“Explain where it is we are going again, Jethro.”
“Okay, Ducky, look at the back of your left hand. That is the state of Michigan. Mackinac Island is just off the tip of your middle finger. We are going to sail the boat around your thumb to just about your wrist.”
The plane touched down at the airport about thirty minutes later.
“Grab your gear and head for that wagon, Ducky”
“A horse drawn wagon? Oh yes, I recall reading that no automobiles are allowed on the Island.”
The Marina was still crowded with sailboats. Captain Art met them at the end of the dock.
“Hey Gibbs, how’re you doing?” he said.
“Good, Art. How was the Race?”
“Well, this year we had no wind and it took seventy-four hours. Let’s just say…we finished. Come on, I will take you to Kismet.”
The mocha hulled sailboat was tied off in slip twenty-four. Art showed Gibbs around below deck.
Ducky stood in the cockpit and marveled at the sight of so many sailboats. It looked like a forest of masts. Many still displayed numerous multi-colored flags in their rigging…the only prize a Captain earns for placing in the Mac Race.
The two men came back on deck.
“I got to go” Captain Art said, “I have to catch the ten o’clock
ferry. Just have her back to Port Huron by August 8th. We have a
Sunday race and my crew gets cranky if we don’t go. Have fun and stay on the boat.”
With a wave, the man headed down the dock.
“Stay on the boat, Jethro?” Ducky asked curiously.
“Yeah, don’t worry, just sailor talk. I’ll warm up the engine. You finish stowing our gear below.”
A short time later, Kismet was making her way south.
“See that bridge, Duck?”
“It is somewhat hard to miss, Jethro.”
"That is the mighty Mackinac Bridge. It is the only connection between the two peninsulas of Michigan. You know what people in the Upper Peninsula call the people in the Lower?”
“I could not hazard a guess, my dear.”
“Trolls….because they live beneath the bridge…” Gibbs said with a grin.
“I sincerely hope I will not have to listen to bad jokes for the next five days, Jethro.”
“Nope, cause if we are really lucky, it will take us seven days to get there.”
After about an hour of motoring, Jethro said to the ME,
“Take the wheel and keep her into the wind. I’ll get the sails up.”
The gray-haired agent spent several minutes hoisting the jib and main.
”Okay, Duck, I’ll take over. You get ready on the starboard winch.”
Gibbs brought the boat up into the wind and Ducky tightened in the sail. The boat heeled over dramatically and gathered speed.
Reaching down, Gibbs turned off the motor, “Now we are sailing. Come and sit on the high side Duck, the view is better.”
The ME scramble up-hill to sit on the port gunwale. Indeed the view was quite wonderful. The sun was glinting off the water which was an exquisite shade of blue. The shore line was mostly tall fir trees. The only sign of any civilization was an occasional tower. But to Ducky’s eyes, the very best view was of Jethro. His lover stood at the wheel, his hair blowing in the wind, a look of sublime happiness on his face.
“You really love sailing, do you not, my dear?”
“Yeah Duck, I kinda do.”
A few hours later, Duck brought some sandwiches on deck and Jethro reluctantly gave the wheel to the ME as he ate.
“Do you feel that, Jethro? It feels like the boat is humming.”
“Yep, she is in the groove. She is a happy boat.”
They put in at the marina at Presque Isle. It took nearly an hour to secure the boat for the night. Jethro went ashore to stretch his legs and get ice for the cooler.
A little later as Ducky was making dinner, he felt Jethro step onto the boat.
“Hey Duck. Come up on deck.”
The ME made his way out into the cockpit and up to where the gray-haired agent was standing near the mast.
“Look up, Ducky”
Night had fallen, but as the ME looked up he saw that the sky was filled with thousands of stars. More than he could ever remember seeing. And they reached right down to the horizon.
“Oh, Jethro. It is magnificent.”
“It gets better. Look”
As the two men watched, a full moon began to rise in the east spilling its milky white moon-shadow over the lake to them.
Later that night, Ducky laid in the vee-berth nestled in his lover’s arms. Kismet tugged gently at her moorings, and the waves slapped gently and rhythmically against her hull. Ducky realized that he was the happiest and most content he had been in a long time.
AUTHOR: ashley_pitt
FANDOM: NCIS
PAIRINGS: Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Donald “Ducky” Mallard
GENRE: Slash
PROMPT: Gibbs/Ducky Sailing
WORD COUNT: 990
WARNINGS: nah
SUMMARY: Gibbs and Ducky experience Lake Huron in a Thirty-foot sailboat.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. I borrow them once in awhile, but put them away tidily.
“Hey Duck, we are going on a cruise.” Gibbs said one day in mid-May.
“A cruise ? You know I am not fond of those large cruise ships…too much like a floating city.”
“Well I was thinking of a little smaller boat…say about thirty feet.”
“I am puzzled, Jethro.”
“A friend of mine does the Port Huron to Mackinac race every year. Once they get up to the island, most of the crew heads home and he needs someone to bring the boat back.”
“Hmmm, I shall think about it ..”
“Too late, I already put in for our vacations ” Gibbs said with a grin.
July 2007
They took a small plane up to the Island.
“Explain where it is we are going again, Jethro.”
“Okay, Ducky, look at the back of your left hand. That is the state of Michigan. Mackinac Island is just off the tip of your middle finger. We are going to sail the boat around your thumb to just about your wrist.”
The plane touched down at the airport about thirty minutes later.
“Grab your gear and head for that wagon, Ducky”
“A horse drawn wagon? Oh yes, I recall reading that no automobiles are allowed on the Island.”
The Marina was still crowded with sailboats. Captain Art met them at the end of the dock.
“Hey Gibbs, how’re you doing?” he said.
“Good, Art. How was the Race?”
“Well, this year we had no wind and it took seventy-four hours. Let’s just say…we finished. Come on, I will take you to Kismet.”
The mocha hulled sailboat was tied off in slip twenty-four. Art showed Gibbs around below deck.
Ducky stood in the cockpit and marveled at the sight of so many sailboats. It looked like a forest of masts. Many still displayed numerous multi-colored flags in their rigging…the only prize a Captain earns for placing in the Mac Race.
The two men came back on deck.
“I got to go” Captain Art said, “I have to catch the ten o’clock
ferry. Just have her back to Port Huron by August 8th. We have a
Sunday race and my crew gets cranky if we don’t go. Have fun and stay on the boat.”
With a wave, the man headed down the dock.
“Stay on the boat, Jethro?” Ducky asked curiously.
“Yeah, don’t worry, just sailor talk. I’ll warm up the engine. You finish stowing our gear below.”
A short time later, Kismet was making her way south.
“See that bridge, Duck?”
“It is somewhat hard to miss, Jethro.”
"That is the mighty Mackinac Bridge. It is the only connection between the two peninsulas of Michigan. You know what people in the Upper Peninsula call the people in the Lower?”
“I could not hazard a guess, my dear.”
“Trolls….because they live beneath the bridge…” Gibbs said with a grin.
“I sincerely hope I will not have to listen to bad jokes for the next five days, Jethro.”
“Nope, cause if we are really lucky, it will take us seven days to get there.”
After about an hour of motoring, Jethro said to the ME,
“Take the wheel and keep her into the wind. I’ll get the sails up.”
The gray-haired agent spent several minutes hoisting the jib and main.
”Okay, Duck, I’ll take over. You get ready on the starboard winch.”
Gibbs brought the boat up into the wind and Ducky tightened in the sail. The boat heeled over dramatically and gathered speed.
Reaching down, Gibbs turned off the motor, “Now we are sailing. Come and sit on the high side Duck, the view is better.”
The ME scramble up-hill to sit on the port gunwale. Indeed the view was quite wonderful. The sun was glinting off the water which was an exquisite shade of blue. The shore line was mostly tall fir trees. The only sign of any civilization was an occasional tower. But to Ducky’s eyes, the very best view was of Jethro. His lover stood at the wheel, his hair blowing in the wind, a look of sublime happiness on his face.
“You really love sailing, do you not, my dear?”
“Yeah Duck, I kinda do.”
A few hours later, Duck brought some sandwiches on deck and Jethro reluctantly gave the wheel to the ME as he ate.
“Do you feel that, Jethro? It feels like the boat is humming.”
“Yep, she is in the groove. She is a happy boat.”
They put in at the marina at Presque Isle. It took nearly an hour to secure the boat for the night. Jethro went ashore to stretch his legs and get ice for the cooler.
A little later as Ducky was making dinner, he felt Jethro step onto the boat.
“Hey Duck. Come up on deck.”
The ME made his way out into the cockpit and up to where the gray-haired agent was standing near the mast.
“Look up, Ducky”
Night had fallen, but as the ME looked up he saw that the sky was filled with thousands of stars. More than he could ever remember seeing. And they reached right down to the horizon.
“Oh, Jethro. It is magnificent.”
“It gets better. Look”
As the two men watched, a full moon began to rise in the east spilling its milky white moon-shadow over the lake to them.
Later that night, Ducky laid in the vee-berth nestled in his lover’s arms. Kismet tugged gently at her moorings, and the waves slapped gently and rhythmically against her hull. Ducky realized that he was the happiest and most content he had been in a long time.