Nikki (nakeisha) wrote in ncis_gibbsducky,
Nikki
nakeisha
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Fiction. Impossible

TITLE: Impossible
AUTHOR: Ashleigh Anpilova
PAIRING: Leroy Jethro Gibbs/Donald 'Ducky' Mallard*
GENRE: Slash*
SUB-GENRE: Established relationship*
SUMMARY: Yet another companion piece to: It Was In His Voice, Discovery, and Oh, Dear. This is DiNozzo's story. DiNozzo is not happy about the head slap he endured in Autopsy and tries to reason why it was so hard.
NOTE: *Although I have labelled this slash, strictly speaking this part of the story isn't as such. The reader is merely able to read it that way, based on the companion pieces.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, nor am I making any money from them. I merely borrow them from time to time.



I couldn’t believe it when Gibbs hit me as hard as he did. I really couldn’t. I still can’t. What did I do to deserve it? Nothing. Nothing at all.

He slaps me round the head a lot, and yeah, most of the time I know I deserve it. Hey, sometimes I even deliberately even goad him, to get him to whack me. Probably sounds crazy, but I do. Hell, it gets me his attention, and that’s got to be good, right?

I wouldn’t admit it under torture, but McGee’s a far better agent than I’ll ever be. That’s why I ride him so hard and make fun of him. I’m afraid; afraid that one day Gibbs’ll stop noticing me, and that’ll be the time he’ll get rid of me. But if I’m pissing him off, he’s noticing me, right? And that has to be good.

And yeah, his slaps sting a bit sometimes, but usually it’s more the shock of them than anything else. Even the ones I get when I’m winding him up can come as a shock, mainly because he doesn’t always hit me then. He’s crafty is the boss.

But this was nothing like that. This was . . . Well, he meant it. It made my ears ring and my head spin. And I bit my mouth; I was tasting blood for the rest of the day.

And I still don’t know why he did it.

All I did was to tell Ducky to hurry up, tell him that we didn’t have time for stories this time, and wham, Gibbs hit me. I mean, why? What did I do? Nothing more than he does himself. Ducky rambles on pointlessly a lot of the time. Don’t get me wrong, I like Ducky, it’d be impossible not to like him, he’s a nice elderly man. But God, he irritates the hell out of me at times - the boss too.

Gibbs is always telling me to show some initiative and think for myself. So what’s my reward when I do? Pain. It shocked me, it really did. Left me with a bad taste in my mouth all day, and not just from the blood.

The Autopsy Gremlin was stunned by it as well; at least I think he was. You can’t always tell with Palmer. He stood there with his gormless look on his face, staring at Gibbs, but he often has that kind of look on his face. Reckon he’s more scared of the boss than McGee is.

It surprised Ducky too, actually. He even rebuked Gibbs, well as much as Ducky ever does. All he said was ‘Jethro’, in that tone of his, the one he uses when he’s not totally happy about something. But did he get a head slap? Or even the famous Gibbs stare? No, he didn’t. Yet he’d done a lot worse than I had, he’d dared to reproach Gibbs, and no one does that. Not and gets away with it. But Ducky did.

You know, thinking about it, it’s not the first time Ducky’s stood up to Gibbs and got away with it. He doesn’t do it often, but when he does . . . And Gibbs says nothing. Does nothing.

Come to think of it, it’s not the first time Gibbs has gotten annoyed by one of us crossing Ducky. Sometimes I wonder if . . . But no, that’s daft. It’s also impossible! I’d have noticed. I am a trained investigator. Also it’s . . . Well, it is.

Gibbs and Ducky?

No way. No way.

Gibbs is into women, in a big way. Put a redhead in front of him and he’s hooked. He’s been married and divorced three times, then there’s the mystery redhead we see from time to time, plus I’m sure that him and Madam Director were more than just partners. He’d never . . . He just wouldn’t.

Not so sure about Ducky. He’s never been married; still lives with his mother; has various eccentricities. He could be, maybe. Not that I have a problem with that, no matter what Kate tried to make out. I don’t. Really, I don’t. I don’t. It’s just not my thing, never could be. And I’m sure it’s not the boss’s either. Taste in everything is a personal thing, and my tastes don’t run that way.

Gibbs and Ducky involved, like that? Nah. No way. Not in a million years. A zillion. It’s impossible.

Tags: !creator: nakeisha, fiction, fiction: round robin
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