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Soo...I saw this on

sinfulslasher sugested I give it a try so...

Tell me a story I haven’t written, and I will give you 1-3 sentences from or about it. Or, knowing me, a few paragraphs, a page, or a promise of a much longer fic Lol!

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Date: 2011-12-28 01:02 am (UTC)

From:

tejas.livejournal.com

no subject

Future fic.

Gibbs/Tony, they've left NCIS and are in alternate careers (not high risk). Abby and her family (not anyone we know) stop by. She's either dropping her kids off to stay with Uncle Jethro and Uncle Tony or she's picking them up after a visit. Jackson and/or Senior optional, but a huge plus. LOL

Date: 2012-01-01 03:52 am (UTC)

From:

taylorgibbs.livejournal.com

Soccer Mom

“How ya doing there, Abby?” Jackson said, wiping his hands on a towel. He looked at the woman, giving her a fond smile. Though his boys didn’t see Abby as much these days as they had when they were at NCIS, Jack knew they all cherished their time together.

“Hi, Jack,” she said, giving him a gentle squeeze. She squealed when another older man hugged her tight around the waist, and Jack chuckled.

“Senior! I didn’t know you were visiting!” She looked at his apron and frowned, finger rubbing over a dark streak. “You two didn’t feed the twins chocolate, did you?”

Jack had to laugh as Senior tried his damndest to look innocent—and failed.

“Where are the guys?” she asked, looking around. Jack figured she was listening for the sound of stamping feet too.

“Back yard. The boys took the day off, closed the shop. Leroy’s got a lot of furniture orders in and Tony figured he needed a break. They’ve been playing football.”

“Football?” Jack watched Abby’s face turn even more exuberant. “Grace wants to join the intramural team next year. And Colin is goalie on the soccer team. This will be great for her.”

“You’re one hell of a soccer mom,” Senior said approvingly, and Jack watched as his eyes tracked over the tattoos, the shiny black hair. Abby was over forty now, and a mom to two kids as smart, witty, and individual as she was, but she hadn’t changed her looks a bit.

Senior threw an arm around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head, and Jack couldn’t resist dipping in and giving her a squeeze as well.

“And you’re a charmer, both of you,” she said, shaking a finger playfully. “Now how many brownies did you feed my kids?” she asked, tapping her high-heeled boot against the floor.

“Got ya there, Senior,” Jack chortled.