“That’s the last time I ever
saw him,” Ducky said sadly, looking into his glass of Scotch. “I heard later
that he’d been cut by some flying glass on the way to get to myself and Captain
Gibson. He almost lost too much blood to make it, but he did. At least until he
died in a dogfight somewhere over
“Oh my God, Ducky, that is the saddest story I have ever heard!” Abby wailed, wiping at her eyes with the cocktail napkin that Kate handed over.
He gave her a fond smile and said, “Not really, but it does seem appropriate, given the day.”
Jethro held up a glass. “Happy D-Day, Ducky.”
Ducky smiled briefly at him looking as tired as Jethro had seen him in a long time. The older man raised his own glass and replied, “God bless the ones who don’t make it back.”
“Amen,” Tony agreed quietly, raising his own glass.
The others joined in with their glasses and there was a sober clinking of glasses all around. Everyone took a sip or healthy gulp of their drink, depending, and Ducky sighed as he said, “It’s well passed my bedtime, I’m afraid. Time for me to be heading out.”
“C’mon, Ducky, we’ll drive you home,” Kate offered.
Ducky grinned and winked. “With an offer such as that from such a beautiful lady, how could I refuse? Don’t stay out too late, gentlemen.”
McGee stood as he offered, “I’ll walk out with you. Tony, you coming?”
Tony held up his half-finished drink and said, “Eventually.”
Shaking his head in mild disapproval, McGee walked out with Ducky and the women, leaving them alone at the table.
Tony snorted all of a sudden. “You do know they stuck us with the check, right?”
A grin briefly twitched over Jethro’s lips and he said, “Don’t worry, DiNozzo, I’ll take care of it.”
The bar had mostly emptied out by then, with only a couple of regulars still sitting at the bar across the room.
Feeling strangely restless as he watched Tony take a drink from his vodka, Jethro observed, “There’s no way that’s a true story.”
“Nope,” Tony agreed complacently. “A ten-year-old Ducky, I sort of believe, but he wouldn’t have known all those details.”
“Still. Nice story,” Jethro commented.
Tony nodded and took another drink from his glass, not quite finishing it. “Almost ready to go, Boss?”
Jethro was about to nod when ‘I’ll Be Seeing You,’ came over some invisible speaker. It was Bing Crosby, who’d always been one of his favorite singers. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone. Shaking off the urge to ask Tony to dance, he just nodded and said, “Ready when you are.”
Downing the rest of his drink, Tony got to his feet and swayed, grabbing hold of the table.
Jethro snorted and got to his feet, putting his arm under Tony’s elbow as he said, “Better let me drive, DiNozzo.”
“Didn’t think I’d had that much,” Tony said, frowning at his glass as though it had betrayed him. “I know I didn’t.”
Pulling out his wallet, Jethro grinned faintly and took out the hundred that he’d withdrawn, suspecting that he’d be picking up the tab at the end of the night. He flagged down their waitress and handed over the bill with, “Don’t worry about the change.”
“I love you old Navy guys,” she answered, grinning.
Tempted to take the money back for the ‘old’ part of the reply, Jethro mentally smacked her in the back of the head and guided Tony to the front door. “We’ll swing by in the morning and get your car.”
“Can’t we swing by and get your car in the morning?” Tony complained.
Jethro snorted. “Not a chance. You think I’m going to leave my car here?”
Tony groaned as if in pain at that, and Jethro just barely restrained a chuckle. He got Tony settled in the passenger’s seat and walked around to the driver’s side. It was a relatively short ride to the house, but an unusually complicated and drawn out affair to get Tony inside. By the time they’d reached the spare bedroom, Tony wouldn’t let go and yanked Jethro down on top of him.
Shaking his head, Jethro asked, “What is wrong with you tonight? You never drink this much.”
Tony held tight around his neck, not letting go as he answered, muffled, “Won’t lose you again, Jethro, can’t go through that again.”
More than a little baffled, Jethro managed to get loose just enough to shift to the side and said, “You haven’t lost me yet, DiNozzo, now let go.”
But then Tony’s mouth plastered to his and he hooked a leg over Jethro’s hip, pinning him in place with a desperate kiss. Jethro resisted for all of five seconds before giving in with a groan. He gentled it, though, and drew it out, knowing that the other man would be passing out shortly. His knowledge of Tony proved true when the kiss slacked off altogether and Tony relaxed against the bed with a slow sigh, vodka kissed release of air.
Pushing up onto his side, Jethro smiled fondly at the other man and whispered, “You’re going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning, Tony. Good thing the boss is in love with you and will cut you some slack, even if you don’t believe that’s true yet.”
Jethro brushed his fingers through the short, soft hair and stole another kiss before climbing off the bed. He straightened the other man out so he wouldn’t wake up in a strange position and sore, on top of hung-over. Tucking the covers around Tony, he took a few seconds to just look at him, then left the room whistling God Bless the Child.