Harry lugged the oversized picnic basket up onto his shoulder with a grunt, shifting it from where it had been cutting a deep bruise into his arm. Mentally he kicked himself for not casting a feather-weight charm before he left the house. Normally he chastised wizards like Draco who took advantage of their magic, and stubbornly avoided using household charms, but even he should have realized that a charm in this instance would have solved more than an inconvenience. Glancing surreptitiously around at the room of highly trained officers, he resigned himself to carrying the basket, full weight and all, the rest of the way.
Taking two steps until he stood at the welcoming counter, he greeted the secretary posted there, "Hello. I'm looking to visit Agent Leroy Gibbs up on the fourth floor I believe. He's the head of the Major Case Response Team," he couldn't help slipping in, blushing a bit as he caught himself boasting.
The young man working the desk glanced up, eyeing him warily, but it was with a polite smile he asked, "Reason for visiting?"
"It's a personal matter," Harry returned affably.
Moments later a guest pass was printed and clipped to the collar of his shirt. With a grin he shuffled into the elevator accompanied by a guest escort to ensure any suspicious visitors didn't get "lost" looking for their floor.
"So how did you get into this job," Harry questioned the large man that stared sullenly at the closed doors of the lift. The man didn't bother sparing Harry a glance, and he couldn't help but quip, "I would have thought being deaf and dumb would prevent one from being a security guard, but good on you for fooling them into thinking you were just cranky and daft."
The guard turned to the twenty-two year old with a grimace but before he could respond the lift dinged to a halt and the doors slid open.
"Cheers!" Harry called even as his fingers mashed the 'close door' button on his way out of lift. The guard let out a startled grunt as the doors slid closed before he had a chance to react.
Harry chortled as he readjusted the heavy basket, taking the moment of relative isolation to cast the feather-weight charm and then sauntering down the short hall to the entrance of the bull-pen.
He paused at the sight of whom he guessed was Tony DiNozzo, the young man that was dubbed the most laid back of Gibbs' team. He was lounging at his desk, and currently aiming to flick a paper triangle at the equally recognizable Tim McGee's head, earning a disgruntled "Tony!" from the computer genius.
The young raven-headed man slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the laughter bubbling from his lips as Ziva David, the only female of the group glanced up from her desk just in time to catch Tony launching his projectile to where it landed squarely in McGee's hair.
"Tony," she snarked, "do not pretend you've finished your paperwork."
"Ah my dear probie, no pretending is necessary. Unlike you and McGeek over there, I'm a master of handling matters efficiently," the Italian boasted. "I suppose I'm not bad at paper work either," he added slyly.
At that, Harry could help the snicker that burst from his lips, drawing the attention from all three of the agents in the room. He firmed himself against their wandering eyes, as they sized him up, effectively stopping himself from squirming as they took in everything from his unruly hair, ghastly glasses, and the unexpected picnic basket slung over his shoulder.
"Erm, hello," he said awkwardly.
"Well hello, I'm very special agent Tony Dinozzo," Tony practically purred. "What can I do you for?"
"Tony!" Ziva snarled.
"I meant," Tony correct himself, sitting up from where he'd practically spilled onto the floor, "What can I do for you, though I wouldn't mind the alternative either. I'm sure any interaction with you would be my pleasure."
When, judging by the grimace on her face and her clenched hands, Ziva was about ready to tear Tony a new one, Harry jumped in to save him.
"It's fine," he assured the group. "I was actually looking for Leroy. I don't suppose any of you could tell me where I could find him," he asked, shooting a forlorn glance at the only empty desk in the area. He tactfully ignored the choking noise Tony made while mouthing "Leroy," and pretended to study the NCIS Most Wanted wall while the agent collected himself.
"Agent Gibbs," he stressed, "is in a meeting. Maybe you could leave him a message."
Smiling graciously at the snub, he replied, "If it's all the same to you I think I'll wait," already striding over to Leroy's desk and settling himself into the cushioned chair.
"That, um, I don't think…" the technical expert
"It would be unwise to sit there," Ziva hissed, "to say the least."
"I don't think Leroy would mind. I don't suppose this thing can be used to check emails?" Harry queried, still a bit behind on the technology.
"No!" McGee practically shouted.
"Really? I thought so long as you had the internet you could check the email thing. Or does this building not have the internet?"
Harry shifted a bit subconsciously as McGee's eyes nearly bugged out in shock. Suppressing a scowl, he reminded himself it wasn't his fault if he wasn't adept at using technology. There wasn't any reason to in the wizarding world, and his few connections in the muggle world certainly never encouraged him.
"What McGee was saying…" Tony commented hesitantly, as it appeared McGee wouldn't recover the power of speech anytime soon, "was that these computers are all password protected and accessible only by government employees."
"Oh! I would just need Leroy's password then? That should be easy enough to guess."
He blinked as the team continued to gape at him.
"There won't be any need for that Harry," a voice interrupted.
Three heads shot up as they heard their bosses voice. Gibbs had somehow made into the bullpen without anyone's noticing, as usually happened.
"Just like there wouldn't be any need for me to take the day off, because you promised to be on time?" Harry scowled.
Gibbs stopped in his tracks before letting out a heavy sigh. "I got pulled into a meeting. I would have called but I smashed the damn phone again." It was the closest he ever got to an apology. Harry glared for a moment more before sighing.
"It's fine, I figured it would be something like that. If you didn't get a chance to come to the lunch date we've been waiting months for, I figured you probably didn't eat at all. When I realized you weren't going to show I popped back home and fixed a meal for you and your team."
"What's this about free food I hear?" Tony jumped in eagerly.
"Take a look." Harry pulled the picnic basket to the center of bullpen before prying open the lid and fishing out the contents, spreading them about the floor, complete with a checkered blanket. "Have a seat and eat."
"Is that potato salad?" Tony asked, practically drooling.
When none of the team moved, Gibbs raised an eyebrow at them. "Well, what are you waiting for? The man said to eat!"
What followed was nothing less than a food orgy as each member of the team piled plastic plates with homemade picnic foods, potato salad, gyros, pita bread with hummus, yard-long sandwiches, crisp vegetables with ranch, and so on. The only sound was obnoxious chewing that no one could quite pinpoint, and the occasional unwitting moan. Harry watched serenely from a distance as the team feasted. Eventually when he began wondering if they were going to eat until their stomachs exploded, they began to slow down and friendly conversation eased in.
"Not that I would ever complain, but why on the world-" "-on earth-" "in the world" "-would you bring all of this to us?" Ziva asked the raven-haired man in their midst with a half-smile that just might be classified as flirtatious.
With a coy glance at the silver-haired fox next to him, he began, "Well, when somebody didn't show for the lunch date I had planned with him, I figured he was probably too busy for lunch, and knowing him, if he skipped lunch, he probably guilted you lot into skimping too. You can imagine my surprise when I arrived and you lot were shooting spit balls at each other," he chuckled.
Gibbs quirked a threatening eyebrow at the team, dryly stating, "That better mean that every single report that was left to file is done."
"Of course boss!" Tony exclaimed a bit too slickly, and then, in the most indiscreet subject change ever, asked, "So how exactly do you know our boss again Harry?"
Harry shot a startled glance to Jethro and shifted a tad uncomfortably, not sure how he was meant to respond. He'd always supported the older man in his decisions with work, and he didn't want to undermine that authority now. When his glance at Leroy failed to give him any inspiration he returned his eyes drifted back to Tony.
"Leroy and I met-"
"Harry!"
"Vance!" The raven haired man grumbled in return with narrowed eyes. "I suppose I'm supposed to be overwhelmed with joy at the sight of you despite the fact that you're the very man responsible for the loss of a perfectly good lunch reservation."
"Oh Harry, I doubt you could stay mad for very long," the director coaxed with a gentle lilt to his mouth.
"Try me," Harry responded testily.
"As it is I need to borrow Gibbs from you for a moment. I hope you won't mind."
With an eye roll Harry drawled, "How did I know you couldn't have just come over to say hi? It's always take, take, take with you. Well fine! Have him if you must." Turning to Jethro he added, "I'm going to head home. I'll see you later alright?"
"Alright," Gibbs responded. He gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze as he walked past, and shot a threatening glare at his team over his shoulder.
"I better get going," he told the team as the two men disappeared from sight. He turned to toss the remaining dishes and platters, devoid of food, back into the basket from whence they came. As he worked, his back turned to the team, he failed to notice the argument consisting of mouthed words, furious expressions, and vicious head nods conducted between Tony and Ziva.
A glance and a head jerk that essentially prompted Ziva to ask Harry out from Tony was met with a vicious glare from Ziva, and followed up by an eye roll and a determined step, as if Tony himself was going to ask Harry out. A couple of exchanges later, a flustered Ziva approached Harry just as he was standing to leave.
Trying to ignore the fact that both Tony and McGee were standing within the perfect eavesdropping range Ziva asked politely, if a bit bluntly, if Harry would like to join her with coffee.
Harry, ever oblivious to the advances of the opposite gender, gleefully agreed. "Of course I would! I want to get to know all of Leroy's co-workers better. We should really invite Tony and Tim to join us. I know this great little cafe just off of Grand," Harry stated a bit ironically, considering he owned the "little cafe."
Ziva flushed and with a cough, elaborated, "I was suggesting something of a more… intimate nature."
"Oh!" Harry couldn't prevent the color from rising and invading his cheeks. "I, I didn't realize… I thought you meant…" Cursing his own ineloquent blunders, he finally ground out, "I don't think that would be a good idea."
With the anger of embarrassment slowly creeping up on her, Ziva sharply asked, "And why not."
Her narrowed eyes slowly driving points through him, Harry floundered for an excuse, any excuse. He couldn't tell her the truth, but he didn't want to lie either. Sensing by the burning intensity of her gaze that his time was running short, he blurted without thought.
"You're taller than me!"
"Excuse me?"
Determined to dig himself even deeper, he continued, "You're way taller than me, and you're really tough, and, er, good at fighting, so you could probably kick my butt. I, er, like feeling pretty macho so I can't date someone who could kick my butt."
Mentally kicking himself, and sensing impending doom, he attempted to retract his idiotic rambles. "Actually no, that's not really true. Erm, gender roles hardly matter, I mean I cook and stuff, but I still… can't date you… because…" Here he lost his courage.
"Because what?"
Fear for his life prompted him to continue talking. "Because you don't actually want to date me! You hardly know me! I, er, I have a son. His name's Teddy, and he's just turned five. I'm sure you're not looking for a premade family. Er, not that I would presume to speak for what you're looking for, it's just, I can't okay!"
"What exactly can't you do?" Gibbs appeared just in time to prevent Harry's imminent death. Both Tony and Tim breathed sighs of relief in compassion for their new friend.
"I can't have coffee with Miss David!" Harry practically wailed.
Gibbs smiled in amusement at Harry's distress, but couldn't help teasing. "Why not?"
"Don't be obtuse Leroy! Coffee coffee! Obviously not just coffee! Or would you prefer I said yes and went out and had, quote, coffee, with her?" Harry hissed.
With a chuckle Leroy Jethro Gibbs wrapped his arms around a fuming Harry's waist, lifted him on top of his own feet, and proceeded to snog the breath out of Harry. In a display of intimate and fierce kissing that none of the team felt quite comfortable witnessing, Leroy Jethro Gibbs demonstrated exactly why Harry could not go with Ziva for coffee.
Pulling away breathlessly Harry wheezed triumphantly, "That's why! I can't have coffee because I'm gay! I'm gayer than gay. There are few things I love more than a cock lodged deliciously up my bum and a tongue down my throat, and there's no cock or tongue better than those attached to your boss, and… I really need to learn when to shut up."
"Happy Anniversary Harry."