Author's Note: In collaboration with Psycho Maddy (who posted the first oneshot two days ago) and MatteaAM (who will post the third oneshot on Saturday), I present to you the second oneshot in a series that will be entirely based on variations of Murphy's Laws. The first collaboration between Psycho Maddy, MatteaAM and myself, some of the stories may come off as crack!fic, but it's all done in good fun. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
As usual, English isn't my first language and this wasn't beta'd, therefore you can blame me and Microsoft Words for all mistakes and imperfections.


If anything simply cannot go wrong, it will anyway.

"I don't think it's a good idea, Jen."

"Why not? I'm sure it's perfectly stable."

The it in question was a wooden rocking chair, currently sitting in a corner of the basement.

The dark, polished wood seemed to glow in the yellow light radiating from the single lamp hanging from the ceiling, and Jenny admired the chair with the proud look of a mother watching her child.

Gibbs sent a quasi-patronising smile in her direction, taking in her ecstatic smile and the way her green eyes sparkled with excitement. The chair had been their - her - project for the past few months, and Gibbs had to smile fondly at the memory of all the nights he had spent teaching Jenny how to use the tools, how to work the wood, drawing sketches of what the finished product would look like.

And to be fair, with her good work and his help, Jenny's rocking chair did look exactly like they had imagined it would be. Yet, Gibbs had never thought she would actually want to sit on her first attempt at a functioning rocking chair. In his mind, that had always only been a way for Jenny to try her hand at it before they would set out to build the real thing.

"Jen, I really don't think you should sit on it." He tried again, observing the chair with a critical eye. He could see all the weak points in its structure, could think of ways to fix it and make it work, if only she were willing to wait a few days longer.

But as it was, Jenny Shepard wasn't famous for her patience, and she had already exercised a remarkable amount of it as they built the chair.

"Jethro, come on…you build boats! Boats that can sail! And you helped me building this chair… what could possibly go wrong?"

'Too many things,' Gibbs thought, but he refrained from voicing his doubts again: chances were Jenny would file his concerns away in her mind under a label that simply read chauvinism. And deep down he knew that she might as well be right, but he wasn't ready to walk down that path quite yet.

"It's gonna be fine, Jethro," Jenny said, starting to sit down slowly. As the chair creaked but didn't give way, Gibbs thought that perhaps she was light enough for the chair to sustain her weight. She sat and grinned at him, "See? Nothing can go wrong."

She moved back, her upper body resting against the back of the chair, which made a series of feeble noises but still held.

Gibbs' eyes followed Jenny's every movement, his ears catching every sound, body tense and muscles ready to jump into action.

Jenny pushed gently with her feet and rocked once…twice… The chair squeaked on the concrete floor and she relaxed against its high back. So did Gibbs, his rigid stance softening as he started to think that maybe - just maybe - Jenny had been right.

She rocked again. And again, her face splitting into an even bigger grin, one hand sliding affectionately along the curved arm of her chair.

Then it collapsed.

Jenny's shriek of surprise was muffled by the loud crash as the chair came undone, and soon enough she was sitting on the floor, surrounded by the pieces of wood that had been her short-lived, yet well-loved rocking chair.

"You okay, Jen?" Gibbs stepped over to her quickly, a hand held out to help her up and a hint of a smile on his lips as she glared up at him.

"Are you laughing at me, Jethro?" She asked in a threatening tone, accepting his help to get off the dusty floor.

"Nope," Gibbs flashed a smirk and tugged her into his side as she half-heartedly punched his arm and looked longingly at the remains of her woodwork.

A moment passed as they observed the destroyed rocking chair in respectful silence, then Jenny sighed loudly, "I really liked that chair."

THE END