Ashleigh Anpilova


A sequel to My Hero.

 Ducky invites Gibbs to dinner.

An established relationship story.

Written: January 2012. Word count: 500.



"Gibbs, yeah?"


"Jethro. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"


"Is there some special reason?"


"Do I need a special reason to ask my closest friend to dinner?" Ducky was beginning to regret agreeing to assist Tony.


"Course not, Duck. Dinner'd be great. Eight o'clock?"


"That would be ideal." Ducky quickly hung up the phone. "Oh, dear," he said to the empty room. "What have I let myself in for?"


He bumped into Jethro a few times that day greeting him in what he knew was an over-hearty way, which caused Jethro to look completely baffled.


On the third occasion, Jethro gripped his arms and stared down at him. "Is anything wrong, Duck? You ill or something?"


"Oh, no, Jethro, I am perfectly fine, thank you. Just a little busy that is all." He beamed up at Jethro who shook his head and let Ducky go as his cell phone rang.


"Later," he growled, flipping open the phone and striding off. "Gibbs, yeah?"


"Saved by the bell," Ducky murmured, vowing not to leave Autopsy again that day.




"Hey, Duck," Jethro called, striding into the kitchen.


Ducky looked up from the chopping board. "Hello, Jethro," he smiled.


"Smells good. Anything I can do?"


"You could pour me a sherry and whatever you would like, if you don't mind," Ducky added. "Jethro!" he exclaimed as the knife was taken from his hand and forcefully put down on the table.


Jethro put a hand on each of Ducky's shoulders and moved extremely close. "What," Jethro said slowly, "the f- hell is going on, Ducky?"


Ducky sighed and looked away. "Oh, Jethro," he said. "Do forgive me; I am behaving like a fool." He looked up at Jethro whose gaze contained a mixture of the bafflement Ducky had seen earlier, the fond exasperation he always showed when Ducky rambled, as well as concern. "It is just that I have something to ask you, well tell you, no, ask you."




"I am sorry, my dear. You see Anthony came to see me earlier today and asked me to do him a favor."


"This is about DiNozzo?" Jethro sounded flummoxed.


"Yes, it is. Or rather it's about Anthony and Ziva."


"I need a drink." Jethro strode out of the kitchen, returning with a glass of sherry and a large whiskey. "Well?"


"Anthony wishes to ask Ziva to marry him and he asked me to," Ducky paused, "raise the matter with you, shall we say."




"Rule Twelve, I imagine."


Jethro was silent for a moment before he swallowed half his drink and said quietly, "Rule Fifty-One."


"I'm sorry?"


"Rule Fifty-One: 'Sometimes you are wrong'."


"Ah," Ducky said quietly. "Do I take it you have no objections, then?"


Jethro shrugged. "Guess not. Just tell DiNozzo, I don't want to be involved, okay?"


"Other than attending or giving dear Ziva away." Ducky fell silent as Jethro stared at him.


Finally Jethro sighed. "Guess so. Well," he added, "thought you'd asked me to dinner."


Ducky smiled.





My Hero

Sometimes You Are Wrong

An Acceptable Cliché

Under Control


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