Prompt: "Monkey Around" – Seussical the Musical Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable belongs to me or brings me any profit. This includes the show "NCIS" and its characters. Author's Notes: Comments are always welcome/ appreciated/ loved/ like chocolate. Jen is in sort of a silly mood in this one… but we all have to act like kindergarteners sometime, right? Can you guess what I was eating when I wrote this?

RE: Advice: I never said I couldn't write a good one line summary, only that I hated them. I stated in the first chapter that they were ficlets. If I wanted to write a Memorial Epic on the lives of Jenny and Tony, I would. I'm writing the way I want, and I don't like meaningless conversation and description where none is needed. By the way, you never actually said what you thought of the ficlets... isn't that what a discerning reader does? Thank you for taking the time.

Gah! I'm loosing my mind! I've done about twenty million stupid things today, and I hope this ficlet isn't one of them.

Supreme

"Ah… Jen?"

"Mmphft?" Flick. Chew.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Mmphft." Chew. Flick. He grabbed her wrist mid-flick, and pointed to the green pepper balanced on the back of her left index fingernail. She followed his gaze from her finger to the pizza box laying open on the floor, a small mound of flicked items in one corner.

"We got a medium supreme pizza."

"You must have excellent short term memory, Tony."

"Dir…" He cut off when she jabbed him in the stomach. "Jenny, I don't appreciate sarcasm."

"Commenting on your memory isn't sarcasm?"

The light-hearted insult flew straight over his head and he started talking again. "We got a medium supreme pizza. Because you said it was your favorite kind."

"It is." She nibbled on the edge of a piece and smirked at the annoyed expression on his face.

"You look like the cat that ate the mouse. You laughing at me, J?" She answered in the form of a grin and a huge bite of pizza. "You are laughing at me." Nod. "Why did you order a supreme pizza, and pick off all the toppings?"

"'Cause that's the way I like it."

"You're confusing me."

"When I was little, my mom would order me and my…" she took a few seconds to shift around on the couch so that her feet were warm underneath a pillow. "…little brother a supreme pizza every other Thursday when she had to work late. And we hated everything but the black olives." Tony glanced down at the last piece of pizza in her hands. Dough, tomato sauce, cheese, black olives. He turned his head sideways to look at the pile of now cold vegetables on the greasy pizza box. Mushrooms, pepperoni, green peppers.

"That makes sense."

"Of course it does."

"You're so sure about yourself, Director?" Speaking before thinking is never a good idea. Expecting a jab, and getting nothing but silence is never a comforting thing. Tony peeked over the refuge that was his pillow and swallowed.

"New rule?"

What is this, elementary school? "Sure." It came out as a croak. This wasn't elementary school, this was high school all over again.

"Don't mix work and pleasure?" He gave a nod, and got a piece of pizza (smothered with sauce, cheese, and black olives) splat in the face. "Supreme."