a/n: idk i've been meaning to write a fluffy cute family beach fic for a while. so here.
September, 2005
She was trying to figure out the best way to keep zinc oxide on the baby's nose without said baby immediately wiping it off, because despite the cute floppy hat she'd placed on Whitney's head, she was still paranoid of sunburn. She had been sitting reclusively in the sand with the baby for fifteen minutes, frowning, biting her lip, and succeeding more in getting sunscreen and zinc on her own hands and face than her daughter's.
"Jen," called Gibbs, standing at the edge of the ocean. "Jen, leave 'er alone, she'll be okay."
She ignored him.
"Jen!" he coaxed insistently.
"Mommy!"
Now he had Ben at it, too.
She looked up shielding her eyes. Whitney looked up, blinking in the sun, peering up at her mother.
"I'm not taking any chances, Jethro," she said shortly. "It's her skin."
"Told you I put some one her right before we came out, you trust me or not?"
She paused.
"I trust you," she retorted.
He snorted loudly; she must not have been convincing. In her defense – she'd once, in a fit of inexperience, let Ben get horribly sunburned on his nose and shoulders, and she'd felt guilty about it for the next year.
"Mommy, you can't get burned in the ocean!" Ben piped up, splashing in some water. "Witty can come play!"
Jenny glared at her husband.
"Did you tell him that?" she shouted. "Ben, you can get sunburned if there's sun and you're not wearing sunscreen – "
But Ben wasn't listening; the five year old was busy splashing loudly and aggressively in the water. He smacked it with his hands and kicked it at his father and laughed manically. He'd never been to the beach before, and his first experience was clearly invigorating for him.
Jenny looked back down at the baby worriedly. She was starting to think it would have been less stress for her if they'd either waited until Whitney was older to take a vacation, or found someone to keep her for a few days while they went with Ben. She tilted the baby's face up and touched her nose gently, and Whitney immediately wrinkled her tiny nose and made a face, reaching up to scratch with her hands. Jenny frowned at her, and when a shadow fell over her, she looked up sharply.
Gibbs crouched down and tugged on Whitney's floppy straw hat, tightening the strings a little – with one finger between her neck and the ribbon to make sure it was comfortable – and smirked at the little girl, adjusting her hat pointedly.
"Jenny," he said under his breath, giving her a look. "She isn't at as much risk as Ben," he pointed out. "The zinc's uncomfortable. She doesn't like it."
"It's for her own good," groused Jenny.
"Yeah, well, she doesn't get that yet," he retorted, arching a brow. "She gets a little red, take 'er in for a nap," he suggested.
Jenny frowned at him. Then she glared at him. Then she looked up sharply, and realized that if she and Gibbs were both up here, there was no one down at the water's edge.
"Jethro!" she snapped, thrusting her hand out. "Go get him – Jesus, don't turn you back, he's wading out – " she reprimanded harshly, pushing herself to her feet immediately
Gibbs stood, turned to look, and started off at a clearly unworried pace towards Ben. Jenny sighed, adjusted Whitney comfortably on her hip, and followed him, digging her bare feet into the sand aggressively to ensure she had enough traction.
"No deeper than your waist, bud," Gibbs called.
"Knees!" Jenny shouted. "Knees, knees, Jethro!""
He turned and rolled is eyes at her, strolling up to where the small, lazy waves lapped at his ankles and standing there, watching Ben play. He shrugged, and glanced at Jenny as she came to stand beside him.
"He can swim," he remarked coolly.
"This is an ocean! He had lessons in a community pool!"
Gibbs laughed at her – and she grit her teeth, experience a moment of annoyance at how vastly difference his parenting style was when it came to Ben versus how he treated Whitney. Yes, the two were four years apart – but she'd known Gibbs around Ben when he was a year old, and two, and three – and when Ben was a year old, if he hit his head, Gibbs laughed and told him to shake it off – when Whitney hit her head, Jethro was there immediately, holding her hand and soothing her.
It drove Jenny crazy. She didn't know if it had something to do with Whitney reminding him more of Kelly, or if it was just sexism, plain and simple.
"Ben," she said warily. "Be careful."
"Mommy, look," he said wickedly, dashing over – splashing them. Whitney lunged towards him, reaching out her hands. "Seaweed, isn't it gross? Witty, you want some?"
Ben shoved a handful of green plant into his sister's hands, and she shrieked, giggled, and chucked it right back at him. He swatted it away, giving her a look, and rolled his eyes.
"Why don't you find her a seashell, Ben?" Gibbs suggested.
"There's fishies touching my feet," Benjamin said solemnly, jumping up and down. "Little ones; it tickles." He tilted is head. "Fishies like the ones Tony has?"
"No, he has goldfish," Jenny corrected. "These are probably minnows or something."
"I want to see a shark!"
"You do not," Jenny said dryly.
"Dad, would it be cool to see a shark?"
"Yeah."
Jenny elbowed him.
"On T.V," he amended. "You can see one in Jaws."
"For the love of God, Leroy Jethro Gibbs – "
"What? I was just gonna show him the shark part!"
"Those are the bloody parts!" Jenny hissed, and turned to Ben. "We can watch Finding Nemo later," she promised. "It has a friendly shark!"
"Sharks aren't friendly, Mommy," Ben said, with exaggerated disgust. He gave her a 'duh' look and scampered off. "I'll get Witty a shell!" he called.
Jenny stared after him, narrowing her eyes.
"Isn't he supposed to think the world of me until he's at least twelve?" she complained under her breath.
Gibbs laughed, and reached over to take Whitney from her, making a face at the baby and tickling her under the chin. Before Jenny could stop him, he'd crouched down, and was helping Whitney stand in the water, holding her tightly at first, and then slowly letting her balance on his knees, watching her watch the water.
Jenny started to say something, but stopped. He was being safe; there wasn't anything wrong with that. She turned her attention back to Ben watchfully; he was much more likely to do something dangerous, and she could react better without the one-year-old in her arms.
She heard a splash, and looked over – Whitney had fallen on her butt, and was staring up at Gibbs in consternation.
"Cold?" he asked her, arching her brows.
He patted her hat, and Jenny wished she had a camera.
"Why won't you put a bathing suit on?" Jenny asked him, mildly amused at his cargo shorts and t-shirt – and never tiring of reminding him how much it amused her.
He glared at her.
"Why won't you?" he retorted.
She stared at him.
"What exactly do you think this is?"
She gestured to the neat, brand-new, lifeguard like green and navy bathing suit she'd bought just the week before.
"A burlap sack," he complained. "What happened to that one you wore in Positano – "
"Oh I'm sorry, the one I wore before I had two children?" she asked incredulously. "I'm a mother, Jethro, I'm not prancing around the beach with my ass hanging out."
Gibbs shrugged and ignored her, looking down at Whitney.
"Guess it's time to put you up for adoption," he muttered.
Jenny rolled her eyes, and reached down to smack him lightly in the back of the head. She opened her mouth to find a sassy retort, and then tugged on his shirt a little.
"Wave coming in," she warned.
He stood Whitney up, and then she pinched him, alerting him to it being bigger than she thought. He picked Whitney up quickly and stepped back rapidly, holding her up high. The wave crashed heavily and splashed her feet. She giggled, but Jenny let out a strangled gasp.
"Benjamin!" she shouted.
The wave had knocked him right off his kindergartener feet, and he came up a moment later, spluttering wildly and shaking his head like a dog. She put her hand to her heart and started forward, dashing through the water until she reached him and crouching down.
She tilted his head up and pushed his hair back.
"Ben?" she asked. "You okay?"
The sound of laugher caught her attention, and she glared back to find Jethro standing there laughing his ass off at his son for being pulverized by the ocean. She clenched her fist and gave him a look that could kill, and he hastily tried to disguise the laughter as a cough and trudged over, Whitney securely on his hip.
Ben kept coughing, his eyes wide.
"Whoa!" he managed, shaking off his mother's hand. He blinked up at her, opening his mouth wide.
She gave him a worried look, and a hesitant smile, and Gibbs stopped next to him and nudged him with his knee.
"Lost that fight, didn't you son?" he mocked, smirking. "You gonna let all the waves take you like that?"
Ben put his hands on his hips, glared at his father, and then stuck out his fist, opening it to reveal a shiny, shimmery purple shell, which he presented gallantly to his baby sister.
"I hadda save it from gettin' washed away!" he squawked, puffing himself up. "Me, or Witty's seashell!"
Gibbs gave Jenny a smug look, and she couldn't help but smile, reaching out to gently take the shell from Whitney, and make sure it didn't get lost in the ocean – since Ben had weathered so much to find it.
September, 2005
-Alexandra
story#218