A/N: Because five year olds are awesome. And before anyone asks, they're eating the frozen stuff :)

Enjoy.

Tim: Age 5

Tony: Age 8

Rebel

"You're mean!" He sobbed at his father as he was turned to face the wall. "An'-an' I'm not your friend no more!"

The older man sighed, his patience thin. "I'll be back when you're ready to cooperate."

" S-still not your friend!" Tim shouted after him as he was left alone to sulk.

It wasn't fair! He'd been minding his own business, having a good dinner and then Daddy and Tony started bein' mean to him. And now he was getting punished, and it wasn't even his fault!

Stupid Tony. Stupid table. Stupid Squash!

*Flashback*

"Timothy, I'm waiting."

Tim swirled the orange mush around with his fork. There was no way that... stuff was going into his mouth.

"I don' wannit," He tried again, glaring up at the older man.

"No veggies, no dessert," Dad replied firmly. "And your time's running out."

Tim looked over his dad's shoulder to kitchen counter and his bowl of chocolate pudding sitting carefully on top.

His older brother watched the exchange with reluctant admiration, his bowl of dessert half-finished.

"Tim." His dad pointed to the plate.

He whined and slumped into his seat, scooping up a forkful of the orange sludge and letting it fall back onto his plate with a soft splat.

Why did Daddy have to make stupid squash on pudding night?

"Looks like throw up," he commented.

"Doncha wan' some d'ssrt, Timmy?" Tony asked around a full mouth, waving his bowl around.

Of course he wanted some, it was chocolate, but…

"I hate squash," he complained again, louder.

"I didn't ask if you liked it, I told you to eat it." Daddy said sternly. "Now."

" But 'm not hungry," Tim pouted, eyeing the remains of his plate with disgust.

"Then you don't want dessert," Boss decided.

"I'm only hungry for dessert." Tim whined.

" Mmmm," Tony took this moment to hum as he lapped up another spoonful. "It's so chocolately and delicious. You're missin' out."

Tim scowled.

"It's no fair!" He threw himself back in his chair and pointed at his older sibling. "How come Tony gets ta have some?"

"Cause I'm the good one," his brother replied sweetly.

"Tony, finish your dessert and leave your brother alone," Dad said as he cleared plates off the table. Everyone's except his.

"Tim, you have one minute to clear your plate or you can forget about that pudding. I'm counting."

Tim kicked his nearest table leg when his dad wasn't looking. Turnips, carrots, peas he could all deal with. But this stuff? He leaned his face towards the plate and gave the orange lump a sniff. He couldn't. He just couldn't.

"Mmm mmm hmm, it's like the best dessert ever," Tony started up again. "Scrumdiddlyumptious."

"Stoppit, Tony!" Tim growled, his face getting hot.

His brother looked over at the bowl on the kitchen counter and gave him a sly grin. "And I'm gonna have it all to myself."

"NO!" Tim cried in outrage. "That's my pudding!"

"Not if I eat it first," Tony taunted.

"Daddy, make 'im Stop!" Tim yelled, standing up on his chair. "He's gonna eat my d'ssert!"

"Timmy Tattletale!"

"Hey," Boss barked over the noise. "What did I just say about teasing each other?"

Tony shrugged, and scrapped the bottom of his bowl.

"Not my fault, he's bein' a big baby about vegetables…"

" 'M NOT a BABY." Tim howled, face contorted in indignant rage. "An' I'm not eatin' stupid squash!"

"Alright, that's it," Gibbs decided. "Dinner's over. The two of you go upstairs, brush your teeth and get into your pajamas. It'll be bedtime soon."

Tim froze.

That wasn't a whole minute. That was NOT a whole minute.

Tony reluctantly placed his bowl in the sink but Timothy dropped onto his seat, mouth hung open in disbelief.

Dad spotted him still sitting at the table. "Tim, I said get ready for bed."

" But- But- 'm not done eatin' my squash," Tim whined, pointing at his plate.

"You had your chance and you know the rules." Tim watched in horror as his precious dessert was scraped into a tupper wear container. "Kitchen's closed."

Something in him snapped at the sound of the refrigerator door closing.

"That's not fair!" He stamped his foot. "I want my pudding!"

"You're going to bed," Dad held firm.

"No, I'm not!" Tim shrieked, tears stinging the corners of his eyes.

Daddy crossed his arms and gave him a look that almost had Tim running for his pajamas.

"You have 'til the count of three to get your butt up those steps or you're going to the corner instead."

Tim glared at his father defiantly. His father stared back at him.

"1…"

It wasn't fair.

"2…"'

It WASN'T FAIR

Tim kicked the table leg as hard as could, making the plate and the squash on top rattle. "I want pudding!"

He was still protesting and crying and shouting as he was led from the kitchen to his least favorite spot in the living room.

*End Flashback*

Tim sniffled. All he wanted was dessert!

After a few shaky breaths he realized was all alone on the first floor. Dad was upstairs with Tony.

Tim gave the wall a good kick. Dad could stay up there for a whole hundred years. He didn't care. Tony too!

Tim wiped his eyes and turned around slowly into the open living room.

When no alarms, whistles or angry parents popped out at him, he took a hesitant step out of the corner. And then a less hesitant one.

He didn't care what Daddy said. He was getting his chocolate pudding.

With that in mind he stomped out the room, sticking his tongue out at the stairs as passed. Walking over to the kitchen table, he snatched up plate that caused all the trouble, dumping the whole thing in the garbage can.

Take that, squash!

Easing the refrigerator door open, his eyes locked immediately on his prize. He grabbed it quickly and kicked the door closed. Stupid fridge!

With no hesitation he peeled the lid off the tupper wear container and dug his hand in.

He didn't need a spoon it was his pudding!

And it tasted so much better using his hands.

Tim danced as he ate his fourth of fifth fistful, lost in sweet victory, when a voice called from the last step.

"Tim?"

Uh oh.

His heart thudded wildly in his chest as he tried to think of to do next. He yanked on the refrigerator door but his chocolate- coated fingers couldn't get a firm enough grip on the handle. In his struggle, the tupper wear container tumbled out of his arms and landed with a splat face down. Tim tried to dive for the safety of the cabinets but lost traction on the slippery floor and fell onto his bottom.

He looked up to see his father in the doorway, looking ten times angrier than Tim had ever seen him.

Swallowing hard, Tim picked up the up-ended container, holding out what was left of the mess.

" 'M ready to co'perate now, Dad."

This was inspired by memories of my younger brothers and jello.

This chapter's question is: What prank did McGee and his Navy Brat buddies pull on the commanding officer when he was a kid?