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The autopsy room was bathed in the sterile glow of fluorescent lights, along with a nervous energy as Jimmy Palmer, the assistant medical examiner for Doctor Donald Mallard, prepared himself both mentally and physically to administer his fresh testosterone shot, the needle reflecting the overhead lighting. The quiet hum of the autopsy freezers provided background noise so James could take his mind off of the incoming pain he was about to experience. As Jimmy carefully prepped the large, yet thin syringe, Donald Mallard entered the room through the large, transparent double doors. Seeing Jimmy with the needle clutched in his hand, Ducky's eyes widened, before his expression shifted from curiosity to concern.
"Mister Palmer, what do you think you're doing?" Doctor Mallard exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and disapproval. Startled, Jimmy looked up at the older man standing before him, syringe in hand.
"Doctor Mallard, it's just my te—" Ducky, cut him off with his stern and demanding voice.
"This could jeopardize your medical career! I-I never, not in my years of working with you, expected this. Did you know, Mister Palmer, that drug abuse goes all the way back to Mesopotamia— ancient times!"
Jimmy, beginning to become fearful of his mentor, began, "Doctor Mallard, it's really not—"
Ducky, interrupting once more, despite his throat beginning to become sore, raised his voice. "I wasn't finished. Substance abuse in my autopsy room is unacceptable!"
"Doctor Mallard." Ducky continued his stern lecture, "Do you understand the implications of such behavior? Did you forget about the random drug tests? We are federal agents, James! This is one of the most bizarre things I have ever seen, and I have seen some things. This reminds me of a time when I— no. You don't get a story today, Palmer." Jimmy actually became a bit saddened by the lack of a story. He decided that if he was legitimately doing illegal substances, that would have made him quit immediately.
"Doctor Mallard!" Doctor Mallard maintained his upset, yet genuinely surprised and concerned tone. "I won't tolerate this kind of misconduct, Mister Palmer! Thankfully, if you are fast enough about it, you may be able to quit this habit."
"DOCTOR MALLARD!" The doctor quickly turned towards the slightly taller man, his chocolate-brown dress shoes softly squeaking against the cracking tile floor. In the silence, Jimmy was struggling to catch his breath before turning towards the professional behind him. He cracked his neck by using his head to look around the tidy room, before looking Mallard directly in his muted blue eyes.
"Just-Just let me explain. I-It’s not drugs; it’s testosterone. I'm trans, as in transgender. Don't report me. I can literally show you the label," Jimmy clarified in between breaths as he began to unzip his medium-to-large sized black, faux leather bag. The bag had a few scratches embedded in the material, and the golden zipper on the top did not fully close. Ducky, watching his assistant frantically attempting to find the small bottle which the testosterone originally came in, paused and sighed.
"Well, it seems I've made quite the assumption. My apologies, Mister Palmer." Jimmy nodded passively-aggressively with a small smirk creeping onto his now-slightly-reddened face and took one more deep breath before replying with, "It's okay, Doctor Mallard." The senior medical examiner stared at the younger man for a moment. James didn’t want to break the newfound silence in the room, but at the same time, it felt deafening.
"Would you like to tell me more about it?" James looked up at his mentor, both confused and startled by the sudden question.
"More about w-what?"
"Being transgender, or ‘trans’, as you called it, Mister Palmer," Ducky replied, small hints of joy and curiosity creeping into his response. The young man pondered for a moment, staring at a foggy freezer door handle before he shrugged and glanced back.
"Not really." Jimmy felt a bit guilty about giving such an unsatisfactory answer, but he was extremely exhausted from the event that just finished transpiring. He could feel the dryness and redness in his eyes from widening them in fear and horror before. Ducky nodded in understanding and smiled at his assistant before he adjusted his glasses and his eyes lit up.
"Ah, so back to that story. I was young, maybe even younger than you—" Jimmy closed his eyes as his mentor told another tale from his youth.