AND THEN THEY WERE SIX
The team mourns the loss of one of their number.
A team gen story.
Warning: Major character death mentioned.
Written: September 2009. Word count: 300.
The news came when Gibbs was down in Autopsy. Jimmy, for once not banished upon the arrival of Gibbs, took the call.
When he replaced the receiver, he noticed his hand was shaking. "Dr. Mallard. Special Agent Gibbs," he called, his voice was so low he doubted anyone would hear.
However, as one Gibbs and Dr. Mallard stopped talking and turned to him. Something on his face must have betrayed him, as seconds later the two men who meant more to him than any other were either side of him.
It was Gibbs he turned to. It was only right it be Gibbs. He opened his mouth. "It's Ziva," he started to say, but then he found he couldn't continue. He bowed his head, aware that now it wasn't just his hand that shook. He felt a hand on each shoulder and lifted his head; as he'd seen them do so often he watched the two older men communicate by looks alone.
Then Dr. Mallard squeezed his shoulder and said softly, "Call the others, Jimmy. Ask them to come down." Still his gaze was on Gibbs.
For a second or two longer, Jimmy took comfort from the hands still on his shoulders, then turned and dialed two numbers.
"Shouldn't have left her, Duck. It's -"
"Hush, Jethro." Whatever else the doctor said was lost to Jimmy.
Ducky poured scotch into six glasses and handed them around. Abigail and Timothy were standing together. Jimmy, he noticed, had moved to stand next to Anthony. Ducky himself returned to Jethro's side.
"Ziva," he said, raising his glass. "May she rest in peace."
As one the other five members of the team raised their glasses. "Ziva."
Ducky drained his glass and sighed softly. Only a month ago they had been seven. Now they were six.
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