Following the death of Mrs. Mallard, Gibbs takes Ducky away for a short holiday.
An established relationship story.
Written: March 2008. Word count: 300.
"Duck, will you sit down!" Jethro tugged Ducky down and put his arm around him.
"I just thought I'd –"
"Nothing needs doing, Duck. Sit. Or do I have to handcuff you to the chair?"
Ducky cocked an eyebrow.
Jethro rolled his eyes. "I brought you here to relax and rest. You know what those words mean?"
"Yes, Jethro," Ducky said placidly.
"Then do it. Come on, Duck, the last few months have been tough for you."
And they had.
The last stages of Mrs. Mallard's illness had run Ducky ragged, and Jethro had become deeply concerned. Thus he'd taken Ducky away, making it clear before leaving that nothing less than an assassination attempt on the Secretary of the Navy's life would warrant contacting him.
Ducky sighed and snuggled into the embrace. "I know. That is the reason I'm finding it somewhat difficult to relax. I don't remember the last time I had nothing to do. I am sorry, my dearest. I –"
Swiftly Jethro moved, pulling Ducky into a two-armed embrace and simultaneously claiming Ducky's mouth with his own.
Ducky wanted something to do; he'd give him something to do. The couch was large and comfortable enough for them to make love without Ducky's leg suffering; it had been too long since they'd managed to snatch more than the odd fleeting kiss and touch or two.
Fleeting was not what he had in mind as he continued to kiss Ducky; nor as he caressed him; nor as he began the extremely pleasurable task of undressing him.
He laid Ducky back on the couch and leaned over him, gently restraining him with his extra height and strength. Not that restraint was needed; not now Ducky had something to do.
Several hours later he guided a sleepy, relaxed and sated Ducky to bed.
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