a/n: by anonymous request, this scenario with Gibbs, Fornell, and the kiddos.
October, 2001
Gibbs squinted and peered critically into the cereal box and did a quick, silent cost-benefit analysis: choose the healthy option, or pansy out and feed Benjamin his favorite cereal because it meant less annoying yelling.
"Lucky," he heard his son demand loudly from the living room.
He made up his mind and slid the box of Cheerios to the back of the cabinet, snatching the almost empty box of Lucky Charms out and grabbing a bowl off the counter. He marched into the living room and tossed the bowl in front of the baby. He raised his eyebrows.
"Here, buddy," he said, tipping the box and pouring a stupid amount of colourful little sugary marshmallows into the Batman bowl. Gibbs tossed the now empty box onto the floor by Ben's high chair. "Go to town."
He sat down in the chair next to his son and shot a glare at the man sitting across the table from him.
"What?" he growled.
"Why's there only marshmallows left in the box?" Fornell asked, pointing a fork at the bowl.
Gibbs shrugged.
"Jen pours 'im a bowl, picks out most of the sugar, throws 'em back in the box," he explained gruffly, picking up a fork and going for his eggs.
"What's she do with 'em if she doesn't let him eat 'em?"
"She eats 'em," Gibbs retorted.
Tobias snorted and shook his head, eyeing Benjamin for a minute while he shoved his little hand into the bowl gleefully and began popping the pure sugar into his mouth happily.
"You're gonna get it," Fornell warned, whistling.
Gibbs looked around pointedly, gesturing with his fork.
"You see my wife here?" he demanded, shrugging.
Fornell laughed and reached to his left swiftly, without turning his head.
"Leave his food alone," he ordered to the little girl in the booster seat next to him, effectively preventing her from stealing some of Benjamin's marshmallows.
"Want candy for breakfast," Emily told him loudly.
"It's not candy," Fornell retorted. He looked down at her fondly and pointed to the waffle he'd made her. "Eat that, it's got liquid candy on it," he said seriously, glancing back at Gibbs. "Yours kept tryin' to steal mine's bacon," he accused narrowly.
Gibbs reached out and nudged Benjamin in the shoulder proudly.
"Boy knows good food," he said gruffly, shrugging.
Emily turned her head and stuck her tongue out at Benjamin. He threw a marshmallow at her, shrieked, and scrunched his face up. Both kids' fathers ignored them blithely, absorbed in their own manly breakfasts.
Fornell snorted.
"What're the chances both our wives take off on us, the same week?" he mused.
Gibbs shrugged, stabbing powdered-sugar covered pancakes with his fork.
"Better question," he growled. "What're the chances they go to the same conference?"
Fornell laughed, shaking his head—Diane and Jenny were both at a government mandated intelligence software training; the whole of the IRS was required to go, and Gibbs had forced Jenny and McGee to take that bullet for NCIS.
If either woman knew her husband was using the time to hang out, goof off, and generally ignore the established rules of parenting, she would throw a fit; but neither wife was due back until tomorrow, so Gibbs figured he and Fornell still had a day of half-assed attempts not to spoil the kids.
"Kind of miss' er, though," Fornell said abruptly.
Gibbs scoffed.
"Diane?" he asked skeptically, making a face into his breakfast. He smirked in disbelief, and Fornell shot him a look.
"Emily kinda likes 'er," Fornell pointed out. "Emily seems a bit more of a pain in the ass when Diane's gone."
"Yeah," agreed Gibbs, pointing at Benjamin with a fork. "Tell me about it," he drawled. "Why'd you think I'm just lettin' 'im eat the marshmallows?"
He was sick of the battle that came with half of the rules that Jenny enforced—she was a virtual pro at ignoring Benjamin's screaming and stubborn protesting, but Gibbs just liked to shut him up and make him happy so he could play with him and teach him about the boat.
"Ha," Fornell snorted. "I had to take Em to work with me yesterday. Know what she did?"
Gibbs shook his head.
"Picked up my phone, called the CIA hotline, and said pizza."
Gibbs laughed, scooping eggs up with his fork. Benjamin tipped his marshmallow bowl over, sending them flying, and laughed hysterically. He picked up the bowl and placed it on his head, and then offered marshmallows to Emily.
Instead of remedying the situation, Gibbs smirked, amused. Emily broke a piece of her bacon in half and thrust it out to Benjamin, gnashing her teeth. He leaned forward to take it, but Fornell stopped him.
"Hey!" Gibbs barked, annoyed.
"Kid's barely got teeth, Gibbs!" groused Fornell.
"Let 'im gum it!" Gibbs retorted, lunging forward and punching Fornell's hand away from the kids. He gave Emily a nod, indicating she could give it to Benjamin, and she did.
Benjamin began to suck on it happily, mashing his mouth on the bacon, and Gibbs sat back, almost knocking over his beer in the process—beer with breakfast, another thing Jen would go ballistic about.
Good thing she wasn't home.
Benjamin reached over and yanked on Emily's pigtail.
"OW!" she shrieked, and pinched his arm.
"Son," Gibbs growled warningly. "Girls don't like their hair pulled."
Fornell dutifully pulled Emily back from Benjamin and into his lap.
"Some do," he said wryly, shooting Gibbs a look.
Gibbs smirked.
"Diane," he snorted.
Fornell started to smirk, and then he sat bolt upright and his smile faded. Confused, Gibbs glared at him, picking up his beer—
"What the hell is going on?"
-only to drop it in shock, and spill the half-empty bottle all over his pancake, egg, and bacon breakfast.
He winced and turned around in his chair, suddenly face to face with Jenny—she stood there in full professional regalia, her arms crossed, her hand on her hip, glaring violently at the scene—beer, unhealthy breakfast, the bowl on Benjamin's head—and she looked absolutely livid.
"Hey, Jen," Gibbs said smoothly, shooting her a charming grin. "How long you been standin' there?"
She just arched an eyebrow—which told him, probably long enough to hear them joke about Diane in bed. Gibbs winced again and then tried to muster an indignant look and glared at her.
"You're supposed to be home tomorrow!" he accused gruffly.
"I was released early for good performance," she said icily, stepping forward. "Jethro, what—this house is a mess," she growled, crouching to pick up the empty cereal box. "Is there seriously a bowl of marshmallows sitting in front of my child for breakfast—Jethro, when was the last time you shaved?" she demanded, launching into a tirade.
Fornell blinked, his eyes wide.
"If she's home, mine's home," he muttered. "I got to go," he said, a pained expression on his face.
"You sit, Agent Fornell," Jenny ordered sharply. She turned tersely to Benjamin and picked him up, sweeping the bowl off his head and cuddling him close to her chest. She gave him a soft look and kissed his forehead, then glared between the two men. "I'll call your wife," she informed him.
Fornell stared at her. Gibbs looked stricken. If Jenny was pissed enough to voluntarily communicate with Diane—what had they brought upon themselves?
Jenny turned, Benjamin in her arms.
"Mama," he said pleasantly.
She kissed his head again, and smacked Gibbs firmly in the back of the head as she walked into the kitchen, navigating the laundry basket and toys on the floor. She shot Benjamin a protective, stern look.
"Don't you dare think this is acceptable male behavior, champ."
October, 2001
can you imagine Jenny and Diane: "I can't believe those two..."
-alexandra