NCIS- Gibbs/DiNozzo one shot, "Not Tony's Fault"
Below the cut is a silly one shot fic for my wonderful beta, who's had a crappy week and deserves fic. She asked for Gibbs/DiNozzo with kids. I hope this is sufficient, darling, though it's just kid, rather than kids plural. This is NOT related in anyway to Double Bluff. Unbeta'd for obvious reasons. :-D Do feel free to tell me if you all see any grammatical errors.
Standard disclaimer: Fanfiction, written for fun, not profit, no known characters belong to me, I own only the words in the particular order I put them.
Not Tony's Fault
“DiNozzo!” Leroy Jethro Gibbs bellowed for all he was worth, his voice easily carrying out into the yard behind his suburban house. A faint crash, followed by the sound of scrambling feet and the opening and shutting of the back door rewarded his noisy beckoning. Moments later, the tall, lanky, messy-haired figure of Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo slide his way into the the kitchen, bare feet scooting a significant distance on the tile floor before he came to a halt a short span away from Gibbs.
“Where’s the fire, boss?” Tony asked, breathlessly, eyes alert.
“What in the hell is this?” Gibbs demanded, holding up one hand, covered from fingertip to base of palm in electric green goo.
Tony turned his head to one side, as if innocently trying to recall something he’d forgotten, and lifted a hand, index finger extended, pointing at the thin air next to him. There was a pause as Tony appeared to be concentraiting.
“Ahh... I believe it’s called ‘Gak’,” Tony finally supplied. “You know, originally made by Nickelodeon, they had it on this game show...” Tony’s voice trailed off as he stared at the distinctly unamused man across from him.
Gibbs rolled his eyes heavenward and let out an exasperated sigh. “I know that, Tony.” He took a determined step closer to the other man. “What’s it doing in our house?” He inquired, laser-focused gaze aimed directly at a now squirming Tony.
“Ah... not my fault, boss. Abby said every kid had to have--” Tony’s self-excusing litany abruptly halted as Gibbs stepped another step closer, goo covered hand held out in front of him.
Tony’s eyes fluttered from the green hand and back to Gibbs’ face. “Umm... boss?”
“How many times do I have to tell you, Tony?”
“Tell me what, boss?” Tony quirked an eyebrow knowingly.
“Tony!” Jethro’s tone was chiding, but fond.
“Yeah... boss?” Tony repeated, tone sly.
How he ever put up with this man was beyond him to comprehend some days. Jethro sighed, stepped forward purposefully and thrust his goo-covered palm against Tony’s chest, making sure to be vengeful enough to grind the green slime as deliberately as he could into the weave of Tony’s t-shirt.
Closing the last bit of distance between them, Jethro lifted his other hand and placed it on the back of Tony’s neck, pulling the other man’s body in toward him. Resting their foreheads together, he whispered, “The name’s Jethro.”
“Sure, boss. Whatever you say, boss.” Tony returned, his voice husky and mocking all at once. Gibbs growled and leaned in to kiss the taunting, frustrating mouth in front of him quiet.
Their embrace was rapidly escalating beyond kitchen-appropriate behavior when a voice cut through the room.
“Daddy? Where’d you go?”
Tony pulled his mouth away from the kiss and belted out a quick, “In the kitchen!” before slamming his lips back down on Jethro’s. Small footsteps could be heard padding their way from the back door, through the dining room, and homing in on the kitchen. Reluctantly, they started the process of releasing the embrace just as the owner of the footsteps entered the room and killed their ardor with a definitive and annoyed sounding,
“Eeew, gross! Kissing. Blech”
After a final smooch, Jethro spun Tony lightly away from him and towards the door, then turned back to the counter where he’d been starting to prepare dinner before he’d accidentally found the unauthorized slime half under the cutting board.
Moving towards the sink to rinse his hand, he stated matter-of-factly,“Nothing wrong with kissing.” He spun the faucet and looked over his shoulder at their aggravated 5 year old and at his partner.
Tony’s knowing smirk in reply clearly showed his own opinion of kissing.
“Kissing,” Amy paused to come up with words adequate to her thoughts, “is gross,” she finished looking frustrated that she lacked more emphatic vocabulary suited to the task of defining something so disgusting as kissing. “It’s like licking somebody,” she proclaimed triumphantly. “Dad, you told me not to lick anything ‘cept food.”
Jethro turned to look at the source of what sounded like a muffled chuckle.
Tony was now standing behind their daughter, clearly trying not to bust a gut in laughter at this pronouncement, his eyes merry. He stooped to scoop Amy into his arms and lift her high. Jethro’s lips quirked into a half smile of their own accord at the sight.
“Yeah, dad, she’s just telling it like it is.” Tony teased, hugging Amy to his chest, his smile tucked right beside hers, the both of them smirking at Jethro full force.
“What am I gonna do with you two?” Jethro asked, shaking his head, amusement and love warring to peek out of his deadpan tone. They both just smiled at him. Amy leaned her head back against Tony’s shoulder and for a moment all was quiet in the house.
“Eeeew! Daddy, you’re covered in goop!” She shrieked. Squirming forward, she pulled one of her pigtails in front of her face and tried to inspect the end for contamination by green goo. “Let me go! Get it off me!” She wiggled and Tony bent forward with little grace, but great care, and gently dropped her onto her feet on the floor. She immediately turned and ran towards the hallway mirror, turning to try and see if there was any damage to the back of her shirt.
It was Jethro’s turn to look smugly at Tony and hold back laughter by sheer willpower. He raised an eyebrow at his co-parent and asked wryly,
“So... didn’t buy the gak for the kid, huh?” Tony looked sheepishly back at him.
“Umm... it’s possible that when Abby told me there were certain things every kid should have at some point in their childhood... our conversation wasn’t 100% about Amy...,” he shuffled in place, vulnerable eyes lifting to fix on his partner’s face.
Jethro stepped towards him, put his hands on Tony’s hips, and quickly lifted his shirt over his head before Tony could protest. Stepping back, he balled the inside-out material in one hand and lobbed it at Tony. Tony caught it one-handed against his chest reflexively. Jethro lifted his still slightly green hand and wiped it off on the crumpled shirt. Sliding his hand up to cup Tony’s cheek, he patted it once and said,
“Go convince the kid she hasn’t been permanently gooped. Dinner in 20.” Tony smiled a wide, happy smile and turned to go after Amy.
Jethro couldn’t help smiling as the soft, “On it, boss,” reached his ears.
_____________________________________________________ This entry was originally posted at http://riazendira.dreamwidth.org/58749.html, where there are
comments. Please comment on either journal as you please.
Standard disclaimer: Fanfiction, written for fun, not profit, no known characters belong to me, I own only the words in the particular order I put them.
Not Tony's Fault
“DiNozzo!” Leroy Jethro Gibbs bellowed for all he was worth, his voice easily carrying out into the yard behind his suburban house. A faint crash, followed by the sound of scrambling feet and the opening and shutting of the back door rewarded his noisy beckoning. Moments later, the tall, lanky, messy-haired figure of Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo slide his way into the the kitchen, bare feet scooting a significant distance on the tile floor before he came to a halt a short span away from Gibbs.
“Where’s the fire, boss?” Tony asked, breathlessly, eyes alert.
“What in the hell is this?” Gibbs demanded, holding up one hand, covered from fingertip to base of palm in electric green goo.
Tony turned his head to one side, as if innocently trying to recall something he’d forgotten, and lifted a hand, index finger extended, pointing at the thin air next to him. There was a pause as Tony appeared to be concentraiting.
“Ahh... I believe it’s called ‘Gak’,” Tony finally supplied. “You know, originally made by Nickelodeon, they had it on this game show...” Tony’s voice trailed off as he stared at the distinctly unamused man across from him.
Gibbs rolled his eyes heavenward and let out an exasperated sigh. “I know that, Tony.” He took a determined step closer to the other man. “What’s it doing in our house?” He inquired, laser-focused gaze aimed directly at a now squirming Tony.
“Ah... not my fault, boss. Abby said every kid had to have--” Tony’s self-excusing litany abruptly halted as Gibbs stepped another step closer, goo covered hand held out in front of him.
Tony’s eyes fluttered from the green hand and back to Gibbs’ face. “Umm... boss?”
“How many times do I have to tell you, Tony?”
“Tell me what, boss?” Tony quirked an eyebrow knowingly.
“Tony!” Jethro’s tone was chiding, but fond.
“Yeah... boss?” Tony repeated, tone sly.
How he ever put up with this man was beyond him to comprehend some days. Jethro sighed, stepped forward purposefully and thrust his goo-covered palm against Tony’s chest, making sure to be vengeful enough to grind the green slime as deliberately as he could into the weave of Tony’s t-shirt.
Closing the last bit of distance between them, Jethro lifted his other hand and placed it on the back of Tony’s neck, pulling the other man’s body in toward him. Resting their foreheads together, he whispered, “The name’s Jethro.”
“Sure, boss. Whatever you say, boss.” Tony returned, his voice husky and mocking all at once. Gibbs growled and leaned in to kiss the taunting, frustrating mouth in front of him quiet.
Their embrace was rapidly escalating beyond kitchen-appropriate behavior when a voice cut through the room.
“Daddy? Where’d you go?”
Tony pulled his mouth away from the kiss and belted out a quick, “In the kitchen!” before slamming his lips back down on Jethro’s. Small footsteps could be heard padding their way from the back door, through the dining room, and homing in on the kitchen. Reluctantly, they started the process of releasing the embrace just as the owner of the footsteps entered the room and killed their ardor with a definitive and annoyed sounding,
“Eeew, gross! Kissing. Blech”
After a final smooch, Jethro spun Tony lightly away from him and towards the door, then turned back to the counter where he’d been starting to prepare dinner before he’d accidentally found the unauthorized slime half under the cutting board.
Moving towards the sink to rinse his hand, he stated matter-of-factly,“Nothing wrong with kissing.” He spun the faucet and looked over his shoulder at their aggravated 5 year old and at his partner.
Tony’s knowing smirk in reply clearly showed his own opinion of kissing.
“Kissing,” Amy paused to come up with words adequate to her thoughts, “is gross,” she finished looking frustrated that she lacked more emphatic vocabulary suited to the task of defining something so disgusting as kissing. “It’s like licking somebody,” she proclaimed triumphantly. “Dad, you told me not to lick anything ‘cept food.”
Jethro turned to look at the source of what sounded like a muffled chuckle.
Tony was now standing behind their daughter, clearly trying not to bust a gut in laughter at this pronouncement, his eyes merry. He stooped to scoop Amy into his arms and lift her high. Jethro’s lips quirked into a half smile of their own accord at the sight.
“Yeah, dad, she’s just telling it like it is.” Tony teased, hugging Amy to his chest, his smile tucked right beside hers, the both of them smirking at Jethro full force.
“What am I gonna do with you two?” Jethro asked, shaking his head, amusement and love warring to peek out of his deadpan tone. They both just smiled at him. Amy leaned her head back against Tony’s shoulder and for a moment all was quiet in the house.
“Eeeew! Daddy, you’re covered in goop!” She shrieked. Squirming forward, she pulled one of her pigtails in front of her face and tried to inspect the end for contamination by green goo. “Let me go! Get it off me!” She wiggled and Tony bent forward with little grace, but great care, and gently dropped her onto her feet on the floor. She immediately turned and ran towards the hallway mirror, turning to try and see if there was any damage to the back of her shirt.
It was Jethro’s turn to look smugly at Tony and hold back laughter by sheer willpower. He raised an eyebrow at his co-parent and asked wryly,
“So... didn’t buy the gak for the kid, huh?” Tony looked sheepishly back at him.
“Umm... it’s possible that when Abby told me there were certain things every kid should have at some point in their childhood... our conversation wasn’t 100% about Amy...,” he shuffled in place, vulnerable eyes lifting to fix on his partner’s face.
Jethro stepped towards him, put his hands on Tony’s hips, and quickly lifted his shirt over his head before Tony could protest. Stepping back, he balled the inside-out material in one hand and lobbed it at Tony. Tony caught it one-handed against his chest reflexively. Jethro lifted his still slightly green hand and wiped it off on the crumpled shirt. Sliding his hand up to cup Tony’s cheek, he patted it once and said,
“Go convince the kid she hasn’t been permanently gooped. Dinner in 20.” Tony smiled a wide, happy smile and turned to go after Amy.
Jethro couldn’t help smiling as the soft, “On it, boss,” reached his ears.
_____________________________________________________ This entry was originally posted at http://riazendira.dreamwidth.org/58749.html, where there are
comments. Please comment on either journal as you please.