Characters: Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Tim McGee, Mike Franks, Jethro the Dog
Season: at least 5 if not later
Genre: Friendship, Crack!fic, Humor
Category: Crack!fic
Warning: Established Gibbs/McGee relationship

Sarsaparilla Time

The night starts innocently enough. Mike Franks comes over to Gibbs house, and joins Gibbs and Tim for supper. The retired agent tries repeatedly to get Gibbs and Tim to join him in a drink and when they don't immediately respond, he offers some to the only other being in the room.

The sound of singing brings Tim and Gibbs out to the porch. Neither of them are prepared for the site that meets their eyes.

Home, home on the range…

Woo woof

Where the deer and the antelope play,

Rahar rahar,

Where seldom is heard...

.woooo oooh...

A discouraging word...


And the skies are not cloudy all day

...woo woof

Mike slings his hand around Jethro's back as he says, "Damn…Probie… need to get …drunk with me more often...hic…you sound better…"

Gibbs looks at Tim who looks back at him, giggling at the sight of his dog singing with Mike Franks. Soon the two drunks are sound asleep. Gibbs stares at his former mentor then at the dog, both of whom are lying on the front porch.

"Um...we can't leave them there." Tim says softly and chuckles at the sight before him. Mike has just turned over and slung his arm over Jethro.

"Why not?" Gibbs asks, making Tim laugh harder.

"Because...I dunno, we just can't." Gibbs nods and makes his way over to Mike. With a sigh, he kneels down and shakes his mentor's shoulder gently.

"Mike. Hey! Boss! Come on, wakey wakey!"

Mike stirs slightly and looks up at Gibbs. "Probie.." He slurs before trying to stand up. It takes both Tim and Gibbs' help to get him standing, but they finally do it and help him into the living room. A whine behind them lets them know that the mutt has followed and once they have Mike settled on the floor, they hear a retching sound behind them and turn just in time to see Jethro hurling beside Mike.

"Well damn." Gibbs mutters and glances up at Tim."Just what were they drinking?"

Gibbs is looking around the living room not immediately seeing any beer bottles or even his traditional bottle of bourbon. Tim reaches under the couch and comes up with a dark brown bottle. He sniffs at it, almost gagging at the smell.

"Mmm…uh oh…how long have you had this stuff in the basement Gibbs?"

"Oh my god, you're kidding me? They drank that? No wonder they're drunk." Gibbs looks at the other bottle in Mike's hand. It's a bottle from a six pack of sarsaparilla he'd brought back from his first jaunt down to Mexico, more than two years ago. The brew had obviously fermented creating a beverage that must have, to Mike's inebriated mind tasted similar to beer or maybe even weak bourbon.

Tim shakes his head in wonder, "They're gonna be so sick in the morning."

"The mutt already is." Gibbs grumbles shakes his head. "You clean that up, and I'll go get something to make'em comfortable."

Tim nods his head and walks into the kitchen to get the stuff he needs as Gibbs heads upstairs to the linen closet and pulls out a pillow and blankets. Just as he's finished cleaning up, Tim giggles again as his taciturn leader, and lover comes back in carrying a pillow and blanket for the inebriated pair before them. He can't help the large belly laugh that escapes him as Gibbs puts the pillow under his namesake's head before covering Mike with the blanket.

"Mike doesn't like pillows and McMutt does." Gibbs says defensively.

"Mmm-hmm…come to bed Jethro."

They head upstairs and Tim turns to his lover as they cuddle close, "Are you gonna tell Mike that he was singing with my dog?"

"Nahhh he'd never believe me."

Tim rolls to the side and reaching over to his jeans, pulls his phone out of his pocket. He grins wickedly and Gibbs can't help smiling when Tim says, "We can always use this as proof …or blackmail."

Home, home on the range

Woo woof...

A/N: Yeah it was supposed to stop here...but my good friend Shelbylou read it and decided that we needed to be just a wee bit

Mike wakes up slowly as the sunlight filters through the large window in the living room. His head feels as though he's got a jack hammer pounding away at his brain and it takes him a while to realize that his bed companion for the night is actually Tim's dog.

'Damn it, mutt. What're you doing there?" he mumbles before the sounds of song filter through his bleary mind.

Home, home on the range…

Woo woof

What the hell? The sound of soft sniggering is coming from somewhere behind him, but right now he's too focused on the screen of the plasma in the living room. There he was, with his arm slung around the dog, singing his heart out. Jethro is there, singing along happily as the two of them enjoy their drinks. Mike couldn't help but smile when the drunken Jethro on the screen paws at the bottle in his hand and watched as he tilted the bottle and let the dog drink the brew.

Where the deer and the antelope play,

Rahar rahar

Mike can't help but groan at the sight and knows that whatever it was that possessed him to sing with the dog would be great blackmail material for years to come. He felt his companion stirring beside him and looked down to see the soft brown eyes gazing up at him.

"Well damn, we're in trouble mutt. I think your daddies are enjoying this a bit too much." Loud laughter filters through to him and he can't help but feel slightly embarrassed as the video keeps playing.

Where seldom is heard...

.woooo oooh...

A discouraging word...


That was it. He'd heard enough and stands up to turn off the television. With a heavy sigh, he makes his way over to the kitchen and sees Tim and Gibbs sitting there with coffee as they try and hide their giggles. He moves to the table and sits down heavily, watching as the dog whines and rests his sore head on his master's knee. They sit in silence for a moment while they all sip at their coffee and for a split second, Mike thinks he's safe until...

"Home, home on the range...where the deer and the antelope play...Where seldom is heard..."

With a groan, he closes his eyes and listens as Tim and Gibbs continue to sing loudly, ignoring the whimpering coming from both of their hung-over companions.

Oh yeah, blackmail material is a wonderful thing and it was going to provide them with many years of material and laughter.

A/N: No, I don't condone getting animals drunk, but the prompt was there (Jethro the Dog/Mike Franks/Sarsaparilla) and I just couldn't resist a wee bit of fun.