Title: Docked Retirement
Summary: Just some old guys fishing on the docks, Ducky tells a story and new opportunities arise.
Fandoms: Stargate SG-1, NCIS
Pairing: Leroy Jethro Gibbs/Donald Mallard
Other Characters: Jack O’Neill
Rating: PG
Word count: 1385 words
Notes: Meeko originally requested; “Gibbs, ONeill. Coffee and sniper rifles”, and maybe that will eventually come around, but I had another Friday Five prompt that I wanted to get written first. I’m not going to link to that Friday Five anymore because they’re not posting it weekly. However, the words were paper, reliance, joke, faith, improve.
It was fun to revisit a pairing where it all started!
——-
“So this is what retirement looks like. Fishing and booze.”
Gibbs grinned as he looked up with a mischievous glint in his eyes to see his old friend standing next to him on the dock. “I see you received my letter.”
“Yeah,” O’Neill said as he waved the paper around. “I got your letter, Gibbs. Honestly, it felt like a gust of nostalgia to receive an honest-to-goodness letter, written on good old-fashioned paper.”
Gibbs nodded in agreement. “Everyone buries their nose into their phones or tablets. The reliance on the internet is alien to me. Nothing beats the feel of paper and ink,” he said as he cast his line into the water, the fishing rod flexing as he reeled it in slowly. “It’s moments like these that make retirement worth it. No deadlines, no missions, just fish and a bottle of the finest bourbon.”
Jack O’Neill leaned against the wooden railing, watching his old friend for a moment before procuring another bottle out of his duffel bag. “Speaking of bottles, I brought something special from the stash,” he handed Gibbs the bottle before sitting down in the chair next to his friend and picked up the extra rod. “To celebrate your retirement, it’s been a long time coming.”
Gibbs accepted the bottle with a nod of appreciation, the label catching the sunlight. “What about your retirement? Weren’t you always the one preaching and complaining?”
O’Neill shrugged for an answer as he looked over the calm waters. “As long as they keep giving me fun jobs, I’m fine.”
“Oh, yes, the head of Homeworld Security,” Gibbs replied with a playful smile playing on his lips. “Since when did you find politics fun?”
Jack barked out a laugh, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’ve got that right! Sometimes I think they’ve put their faith in the wrong person!”
“I wouldn’t say that, Jack,” Gibbs rolled his eyes at his old friend. “You obviously have the knowledge and experience to guide those who don’t into making good decisions about keeping the planet safe.”
“Politics,” Jack added with a wry twist to his lips.
“The one reason why I never took over NCIS.”
Jack hummed in agreement and the two old friends sat in silence for a while, drinking and catching food for the night. Eventually, Jack spoke up again. “I’ve got to admit, retirement’s starting to look better by the minute,” he nodded towards the figure walking towards them. “How did you manage to convince him, Gibbs?”
A warm smile crept across Gibbs’ face as he watched the figure draw nearer. “Ah, I—”
“He didn’t have to talk me into anything, Jack dear,” Gibbs’ life partner Donald Mallard retorted with a friendly smile on his face. “The wonders of modern technology allow me to still be of use back in Washington.”
“Hey, Duck,” Gibbs gracefully offered his chair to his partner and planted a loving kiss on his cheek. “How’s Jimmy?”
“Oh, Jethro, they’ve got quite the intriguing case on their hands at the moment.”
“Do they?”
“Would you care to hear about it?”
Gibbs hesitated, glancing toward Jack. “I don’t want to bore Jack with—”
“Oh, yes, let’s hear it,” O’Neill chimed in as he skillfully reeled in a fish. “Interesting cases are the best kind of stories.”
“Very well,” Ducky smiled contently as Gibbs sat down on the dock and continued to fish, but only after taking a large swig of his bottle. Ducky was telling the story of Petty Officer Vincent Micheal who had been found in a vault where classified government documents had been kept. The Petty Officer wasn’t deceased, but he had been drugged, bound, and gagged within the vault, and the classified documents were missing.
With every detail Ducky shared, the gravity of the situation became more apparent. The missing papers contained crucial information and the fate of national security hung in the balance. The Petty Officer had been cleared as a suspect almost immediately, seeing as he didn’t have access to the vault, and was shown on CCTV footage to have been tied up and blindfolded serving as a helpless hostage to the culprits who seemed to have the access code to the vault.
The suspect pool was small, and after the body of Petty Officer First Class Bobby Johnson was found, the investigative team had hit what appeared to be a dead end. Until today, that is. Until Jimmy Palmer, with his earnest dedication to his work, had carefully laid out the body for Ducky and shared crucial case details with him.
Jack listened intently, his curiosity piqued. “There’s no CCTV footage of them leaving the area with the papers, is there?”
“Correct, Jack,” Ducky affirmed with a knowing smile, recognizing the wheels turning in his friend’s sharp mind.
“The papers are still there, likely hidden,” Gibbs offered, having drawn a map of the crime scene in his mind. He also knew that particular vault very well. “There’s no CCTV inside the vault, only on the outside.”
Ducky nodded appreciatively. “Precisely, Jethro. It seems our culprits may have concealed the documents within the vault itself, waiting for the right opportunity to retrieve them discreetly.”
“At times like these I do miss the excitement of a good stakeout,” Gibbs mused as he took another swig of the bottle. “Any idea what killed the POFC?”
“The death of poor Officer Johnson is unfortunately not related to the case, although his body was found in Petty Officer Vincent Micheal’s office,” Ducky retorted, watching as both men reeled in their fish. “They were co-workers, but Jimmy has already proven that there was no foul play in Johnson’s death, just a long history of medical ailments. The only reason Johnson was at the office was to clear his desk.”
“Such a shame,” Jack said as he put the fish in the bucket and took a swig of his bottle, having seen the wide array of emotions flashing across Gibbs’ face during Ducky’s story. Nostalgia. Regret. He knew his friend missed the work, but he could also understand why he wanted to retire; Gibbs genuinely seemed happy here.
“In any case, what brings you to Alaska, Jack?” Ducky asked, his curiosity piqued, especially as it had been a few years since he and Jethro had seen the General.
“Oh, Gibbs wrote me a letter,” Jack retrieved the paper from his pocket with a playful grin on his face and waved it around. “I couldn’t pass that up, he’d likely come and find my ass for ignoring it anyway if I hadn’t.’
“Damn straight,” Gibbs nodded.
“But here’s a question,” O’Neill said as he put the fishing rod down and leaned forward to address himself to Gibbs who was still sitting on the dock. “We’ve recently had a shake up at our Office of Special Investigations, and I think there’s room to improve. I think with a new commander at the helm, we can make it run more efficiently.”
“Are you asking for recommendations?” Gibbs asked, taking another swig of his bottle.
O’Neill’s expression was dead serious. “No, I’m offering you a job, Gibbs. The only person you report to is me.”
“Is this a joke?”
O’Neill’s expression remained the same as he responded, “No joke, Gibbs. I know you as my friend. On top of that, I’ve been following your career, and I know what you bring to the table. We need someone like you to whip things into shape at the Office of Special Investigations.”
“I just retired,” Gibbs responded, but the wheels in his head turning with the possibilities. They had been discussing Jack’s lack of retirement earlier, and that was simply because they kept giving Jack the fun jobs. Leading OSI would be a completely new challenge.
Ducky placed a gentle hand on Gibbs’ shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Jethro, perhaps this is an opportunity worth considering.”
Gibbs looked at his two closest friends; one his lover, the other his former lover. The water around them were reflecting in the fading sunlight. Whatever the decision would be, he knew that his future would be severely impacted, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but smile. A fun job, such a fun twist. “I’ll think about it,” he said as he reached for the bucket of fish. “But first, we eat.”