Ducky followed Abby into the lab, continuing the argument that had begun in Autopsy.

"My dear girl, there were many emotions running rampant during their brief time together," Ducky said firmly.

"Sorry, Ducky, I just don't see it. I mean, they were dancers, not spies or soldiers in arms. All they did was spin around a few times to music. What in the world could be so important about dancing?"

"If you feel that way, Abigail, you obviously don't know what real dancing is."

"I dance all the time, Ducky."

Ducky waved his hand in dismissal of her assertion. "I've seen those spastic gyrations you younger people call dancing. Those are nothing. Real dances are done with two people, not a chaotic horde."

"Are you talking about ballroom dancing?" Abby asked, looking skeptical. "The whole waltz thing?"

"You needn't sound so derisive. A well-executed dance is a work of art, a..."

"Ducky, those people wear big feathers on their heads and sequins all over their bodies," Abby said and peered into her microscope.

Again, Ducky dismissed her protest. "I am not speaking of competitions. Those displays hardly qualify." He cleared his throat."I am speaking of two people, moving as one." When Abby turned around, he held out his hand. "May I have this dance, Ms. Sciuto?"

"Ducky..." Abby said, grinning.

"May I have this dance?" Ducky repeated.

Abby smiled more widely and took his hand. Immediately, he spun her into his arms. "A dance, is more than fancy footwork." Spin out. "It is, as the saying goes, a vertical expression..." Spin in. "...of a horizontal desire."

"That's funny. I always thought of it as a guy showing off the girl he was lucky enough to snag for the evening," Abby said, still grinning.

"Perhaps for some, but for those who know what dancing is, it is an expression of all the emotions one does not express aloud. It is a way to explain oneself without the cumbersome use of language. Yes, the man leads, but when a couple is truly dancing, he only leads them where they both wish to go." Ducky put a firm hand around Abby's waist, pulling her close to him. Then, he began to move her around the lab. A few times, she stepped on his toes, not knowing where to go.

"Oops. Sorry, Ducky. I don't know how to do this."

"No, no, Abigail. You must trust me to lead you correctly." When another step again led to her crashing into him, he sighed. "Close you eyes, Abigail."

"What?"

"Close you eyes."

"How will that help? I can't do this with my eyes open."

"Precisely, my dear. If your eyes are closed, you have no choice but to trust me to lead you. You are too used to doing things your own way. If you wish to dance, you must allow the man to take charge, at least on the dance floor. Now, close you eyes."

Obediently, Abby closed her eyes, her body stiff, trying to guess where he would lead her next.

"No, no. Relax. I know what I am doing. If you trust me, you'll know what to do as well. Remember, we move as one." Again, Ducky led Abby on a slow circuit of the lab. This time, she stopped trying to out-think him and let him do the leading. She began to relax into his sure arms as they began to move in sync with each other. Occasionally, he would lead her out into a slow turn. She executed the revolution without hesitation, following the direction in his fingers, the rhythm she could feel from each step.

When Ducky stopped the dance, Abby stood still with her eyes closed.

"Do you understand now, Abigail?" he asked.

Keeping her eyes closed, completely relaxed in Ducky's arms, Abby answered, "Yes, Ducky. Now, I understand."