Friends for Dinner

Summary: A McGee family barbeque. Sequel to Dead Animals. Part of the Future Perfect universe.

Disclaimer: Leigh and Katie are mine; the rest belong to other people.


A/N: This takes place in the Future Perfect universe, which features Leigh and Caitlyn, the twin daughters of Tim and Abby.


Gibbs pushed open the gate at the side of the house and followed the smoke. He found Abby poking at the barbeque coals. Calling out a greeting, he deposited the potato salad he was carrying on the picnic table. They chatted for a few minutes, then Gibbs headed inside to fetch a couple of beers from the fridge.

Stepping from the back porch into the kitchen, Gibbs said hi to Tim, who was standing at the counter threading pieces of vegetables onto skewers. The girls were still nowhere to be seen.

He pulled open the fridge door, and burst out laughing.

'I take it Katie is still a vegetarian?'

It had been a couple of weeks since the middle schooler had declared herself to be vegan. She had since decided that eggs and milk were ok, but she still refused to eat meat, insisting 'I don't eat my friends' when asked why.

A plate of freshly-made hamburgers was waiting on the bottom shelf of the fridge. An enormous mushroom cap was marinating in a bowl next to them, obviously intended as Katie's 'burger.'

On the top shelf, a plush Jersey cow with big googly eyes stared out at Gibbs. A small piece of mauve paper was stuck to its nose with poster gum. 'Please don't eat me!' the note said.

Tim looked up, a cherry tomato in one hand and a half-filled skewer in the other.

'Yeah. How'd you...'

Before he could finish the question, Gibbs held up the toy.

Tim chuckled.

'Well, she's a dairy cow, anyway, so I think she's safe.'

Just then, Leigh appeared in the doorway, holding a soccer ball and already bubbling at her Uncle Gibbs. Catching sight of the cow, she broke off mid-sentence, deposited the ball on the floor, and started rummaging in the drawer where assorted odds and ends were kept. Gibbs watched her curiously as she grinned triumphantly at finding a black felt-tipped marker.

A moment later, she was busily drawing a face on a hapless butternut squash that had been awaiting its demise on the counter next to the fridge. Satisfied with her creation, she snatched the note from the cow's nose and stuck it on the grinning squash instead.

'C'mon, Doris,' she told the cow, taking it from Gibbs and heading outside.

'She's not gonna try putting that thing on the barbeque, is she?' Gibbs asked, glancing over his shoulder out the window.

'Who knows?' Tim replied with a sigh, holding out his hand for a beer. His mind was filling with images of charred bits of stuffed toy, wedged into a bun and offered to Katie.

'Gimme one of those... I think I might need it.'