Could Be That Boy

Author's Notes: This story was inspired by the fantastic Angel, built upon by the Getty Girls, and finally crystallized in my brain from there. I wanted to tell a story, in one whole shot, about Gio during Wicked, and just what his own family might have had to say with it. What can I say? I loved Nella.

The title is taken from Wicked's 'Not That Girl'.

Enjoy, Getties!

Could Be That Boy

There was something about coming home - Giovanni Rossi thought fondly as he pulled his van in front of his parent's house in Queens - that gave you a definite feeling of nostalgia. For example, the large tree in their tiny front yard, the one his mother Adalina refused to cut down, had a long standing tradition as being the most daring way to sneak in and out of the house when you were in your rebellious teenage years. Gio had been the first, followed a few years later by his sister Luciana. The twins were probably getting the most use out of it now, and in a few years Antonella, the baby, would be climbing down those branches for some innocent, illicit fun with her friends. Gio had a lot of good memories with that tree – climbing back up after his first concert, going down to kiss the first girl he ever loved.

He patted it fondly and familiarly as he headed up to the front door of the rambling old brown two-story, hefting a large cardboard box under his arm. The house had been in the Rossi family for three generations now – his great grandfather had bought it while working two jobs, his grandfather kept it going through the fifties and sixties, and his father had raised his family there. One day, he'd probably inherit as well – although he was fairly sure he'd have his own home. Well, hopefully. His five year plan had begun, in earnest, and now it was time to make the best of a hopefully stable situation. He'd been all over Meade Publications, spreading around his flyers. Luckily, writers were definite eaters … heh, some of them a little more than others. Or at least, tiny Hispanic girls with giant glasses, who beamed like sunshine over the thought of free coupons.

He sighed, his thoughts drawing back to that little 'scene' between him and Betty Suarez. He couldn't believe such a girl from the Neighborhood was being such an idiot, especially over an accountant. He might have understood a little more if it had been over Daniel Meade, handsome playboy, but an accountant? No way. She should be getting charged over someone who could get under her skin. A guy who would really get her engine running.

Not to mention who didn't currently have a baby coming with his ex-girlfriend.

He pushed open the front door, grunting. Women made no damned sense, sometimes. Closing the door with his foot, he called out, "Ma! Pops! Grandpa Vanni! Anyone home?"

"We're in the kitchen, Gio!" Came back his mother's reply, and Gio dropped the box on the sofa and headed towards the delicious smells emanating from the back. He poked his head through the door, noting two of the Rossi elder adults were where he usually found them. His mother was on her cellphone, still dressed in her sensible suit from work. She was the Head Librarian at the Jackson Heights Library, and some days it seemed like the building would literally burst into flames if she wasn't holding down the fort. She was where Gio had gotten his coloring and eyes, and her caustic attitude had definitely passed to all her children.

Gio sauntered over and brushed her cheek with a kiss, and she smiled warmly, talking to him and the person on the phone at the same time. "Hello sweetheart – not you, Steven, and I told you the next time that happens call the IT people. How was your day? Not your day, Steven, my son's. Their number should be in the Rolodex under the main desk."

Gio grinned, leaning against the wall. "Went well – settled up with the kiosk and got all my flyers out. Gave out some coupons, some for free, some for not. How about you?"

"Oh the usual – computers up, computers down. I need to get this settled so I can help your grandpa with dinner – and make sure your father hasn't blown himself up – not to mention make sure I get everyone to the dinner table. Oh, and I've got to sew your sister's pageant costume, or I shall be the Worst Mother Ever." She sighed, "Why I do all this, I'll never know."

"Well, because you're awesome." Gio gave her another kiss. "Tell you what – I'll help out Grandpa until you're free and check on Dad besides."

"This is why you are my favorite child." She gave him a squeeze, eyed his hair, tutting. "Getting long there, Rock Star. NO, Steven, not you…"

Gio smirked, before edging his way past the large kitchen table to the stove, where his grandfather Giovanni, Grandpa or Papa Vanni to everyone else, stood slowly stirring a garlic sauce, and steaming mussels. He was a tiny, wrinkled old man, who looked up as his grandson approached, and smiled crookedly at his namesake, "Ciao, Gio."

"Ciao, Grandpa, what's cooking?" Gio wrapped one arm around his grandfather's shoulders, dipping one finger quickly into the sauce. He got his finger into his mouth before his grandfather shouted and smacked him upside the head with a wooden spoon. Gio sniggered in response, "What? I gotta test it. Make sure you're not poisoning us."

"I have been cooking for this family for over fifty years! I have cooked for other people just as long! I never poison!" His grandfather rasped out in his thick Italian accent. He gave Gio another whack. "You just like to cause trouble, Gio." The old man paused, giving Gio a considering look. "What do you think?"

"Garlic, I'm thinking." Gio said frankly. "It's good, but a little more garlic will make it perfect."

Grandpa Vanni snorted, tasted himself, and nodded agreement. "Buono. You still have a decent tongue in your head. Go to the basement, get some." He started to stir again as Gio headed for the door that led to the basement, adding, "Make sure your father hasn't blown himself to Kingdom Come."

Gio climbed the stairs down, grinning as he could hear his father say loudly, "You know, the lack of faith in this family is just shocking." Bertrando Rossi, Bert to anyone close to him, was sitting at his work bench, his bad leg stretched out straight to the side of the table, a tangle of wires in front of him, a soldering iron in one hand and a small, black apparatus in the other. He glanced over his half-moon glasses at his oldest, his tone wry. "It's not like I'm making incendiary devices."

"Well, maybe if it didn't always smell like something was burning down here, we'd be a little less suspicious." Gio said dryly, as he headed over to the shelves that held his grandfather's spices. He found the cloves of garlic, extracted one, and headed over to his father's bench. He clapped him lightly on the shoulder, looking on with interest. "So what's all this then, Pop?"

"A device that brushes, and flosses your teeth, all at the same time!" Bert held it up for Gio's approval. "Just got to work out a few kinks, and then it's ready for the patent's office."

"And those kinks are…?" Gio asked, eying the device with a touch of wariness and pride. No matter how many times these things failed, his father never gave up on his dreams to invent something useful for mankind. He liked to think he got his drive from the tall, spare man before him, beyond the dimples in his cheeks and the line of his jaw.

"Well, I am having some problems with the switchover – it tends to get stuck in the middle and try to brush and floss at the same time." His father tilted the device back and forth, before giving his son a smile. "But I'll get it, sooner or later."

Gio smiled back, clapping his father on the shoulder. "I know you will. Looks like dinner will be ready soon, so don't get too wrapped up."

"Hm. Since I've been warned twice about 'blowing myself up', I can see where the winds are blowing." Gio's father winked. "I'll be up soon."

Gio chuckled, and climbed up the stairs, two at a time, popping into the kitchen. "He's fine, everything is in one piece … although you might want to check to make sure he has all of his teeth."

Grandpa Vanni just rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and took the garlic from Gio, muttering under his breath in Italian. Gio's mother sighed and cupped her hand over the phone. "Honestly – I do not know what to do with that man – Luce? Luce? Angel, calm down. We know Samuel doesn't eat shellfish – yes – yes – we're going to be making him a nice piece of chicken instead."

Gio dug into the pretzel jar on the counter, leaning on the counter as he tilted himself towards the phone, yelling loudly. "Stop having hives, Loser. Just get your skinny butt and fiancée over here."

Adalina gave her son a Look, before she sighed into the phone. "Luce, I am not going to tell your brother that he is a …. That word. You can tell him yourself when you and Samuel come to dinner. Nothing fancy, just food and family." Pause, and another sigh. "Darling, we will not pick on Samuel. No one picks on Samuel." She eyed Gio. "Well, mostly."

"What?" Gio asked innocently, "It's not my fault the guy can't take a joke about Italian families, and the Mob!"

His mother pointed a finger at him. "Your sister is right, you shouldn't have told him you knew where to fit him with a pair of cement shoes."

"Oh, c'mon, Ma! Who expects to take that seriously?" Gio snorted.

"Your brother will leave Samuel alone, isn't that right, Giovanni?" His mother put one hand on her hip, giving him the Look again.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes Ma. I will leave the paranoid goober alone." He popped a pretzel into his mouth, so he didn't feel tempted to add anything else. It wasn't that he had anything against Samuel, per sec. Just … how could you resist poking the guy who thought most Italian families were like The Sopranos?

"Thank you, sweetheart. All right, Luce. See you soon." His mother hung up the phone and let out a long, long sigh. "I love your sister, Gio.'

"I know you do, Ma." Gio said, sympathetically. Ever since Luce had gotten engaged to Samuel Cohen, a young lawyer who worked at the firm she did secretarial work for, she had literally been driving the family crazy with all things Samuel. Samuel couldn't eat this, because of his religion. Samuel couldn't do this, he had allergies. Samuel didn't like that movie, he thought violence in film was blah, blah, blah. Sometimes, Gio liked to think he picked on his sister's choice out of self defense.

"I just hope that boy starts relaxing around us soon, or your sister will never relax again." Ada sighed, as she took out her earrings and headed for the kitchen door, calling out behind her, "I'll be down in a second, Papa Vanni! Gio, what is this cardboard box on my sofa?"

Gio moved to the stove again, yelling back as he pulled a spoon out of the utensil drawer, "Presents for everyone!" He dipped the spoon into the pot, tasted, and nodded his head with approval, "Perfect. Brings out the flavor without overwhelming it. You're the master of sauces, Grandpa Vanni."

Grandpa Vanni patted Gio on the cheek fondly, "Refined palate, of a master chef. Now, help your Mama, and start setting the table."

"Yessir." Gio mock saluted, and headed out to the long dining room. He had just started searching the drawers of the china cabinet for something that resembled a tablecloth, when the front door banged open and he heard his three younger siblings enter arguing loudly.

"You. Ditched. Us." Nella said, her eleven-year voice sharp with disapproval. "Just for some stupid punk in a leather coat."

Desideria, the elder of the two sixteen year old Rossi twins, was heard to sigh throatily, "I did not ditch you. You got on the wrong train, and then you came back again."

"The wrong train in which you pushed us on, Ria!" Giacomo, the younger twin, spoke sharply as the door was shut loudly. "And for Rico Valenza? He's an ass! Ow!"

"Don't use that kind of language in front of Nella!" Ria scolded, "And yet again I say, Jack, that you got back on the right train, so what's the big deal?"

Gio rolled his eyes, and raised his voice, "Maybe because you shoved your twin brother and little sister on a train heading to anywhere to mack on a guy?"

There was a pause, and then a happy squeal of, "Gio!" from Nella, who came into the dining room and tackled him with a hug. He laughed and squeezed her back, before twirling her out in a fancy spin move and back again.

"Hey squirt – which direction did she have you going?" He asked, looking down at her. She was the baby of the family after all, and because of that he always felt more protective over her than the others.

"We were halfway to Brooklyn." Nella rolled her eyes, "And all because she thinks Rico has a sexy accent!"

"Nel-la!" Ria appeared in the doorway, her perfectly made-up lips pressed together. She tossed her long, shiny black hair, glaring at her little sister. "Shut. Up."

Jack gave her a push from behind, snorting softly as he slid past her. "Why? She's right." He grinned at his older brother, holding out his hand for a high-five that pulled into a hug. "What's up, big bro?"

"Not much, little man." Gio said with a hint of irony, because Jack and Ria were the only two of the five Rossi children who seemed to have inherited their father's height. He eyed his brother's t-shirt, a smirk appearing. "Of course, maybe Rico had a reason to be nervous. Nice logo."

Jack grinned, his black eye-lined eyes crinkling around the edges as he looked down at his t-shirt that stated boldly Don't Piss Me Off, I'm Running Out Of Places To Hide The Bodies. "Nice, huh? I like the second-what-the-Hell looks I get off of it." He turned back to his twin, his voice going sardonic again, "Yet again, it appears I have managed to humiliate my sister into denying my existence."

Ria rolled her eyes, as she headed over to the cabinet, going through the drawers herself and pulling out a long, white tablecloth. "Well maybe if you didn't look like such a Freak."

"He is not a Freak, he's got his own style." Gio said sharply, as he gave Nella a little head thump. "Go help Ria with the tablecloth."

Nella wrinkled her nose, but went off to grab the other end. She flounced a little, giving Ria a mock-sweet smile. "And what did I do, oh sweet older sister?"

"You were born, brat." Ria grumbled, earning her another look from Gio. She sighed, exasperated. "What? I'm sorry, but do you know how hard it is to flirt with a guy when your Goth twin and your annoying little sister are there, tapping their fingers against their watches?" Gio flicked her ear, as he passed to the china cabinet. "Ow! Gio, that hurt!"

"It should hurt to abandon your family in the subway." Gio shook his head, as he tossed Jack a bundle of cloth napkins, and they started setting them around the table. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood, or I'd drag you out of here and make you apologize to Jack and Nella in front of this Rico guy – who, by the way, I'm not sure if I approve my younger sister hanging around, if he makes you do things like this."

Ria pouted prettily, as she smoothed down her end of the tablecloth. "I'm sorry, okay? I just really like him – and Jack gives me nothing but grief about it because he doesn't respect Rico's political views, or something, and he always goes out of his way to make Rico look stupid."

"It's not exactly hard." Jack muttered.

Ria gave Jack another dirty look, as she grabbed some napkins from Gio and threw them at Jack. "Well maybe I don't need a guy to be a Rhodes Scholar like you do, you intellectual snob!"

Jack ducked and tossed one back, "Maybe all you need is some guy who looks good in tight jeans? And for the last time, I am not gay because I wear eye-liner!"

"Oh yeah? Then why do all your girlfriends look like little bishie-boys?" Ria smirked, and tossed another one at Jack.

Jack smirked back, returning fire, "Why do all of your boyfriends look like they've just been lobotomized? Or is that just a feature from dating you?"

There was the sound of creaking as Ada came down the stairs rapidly, calling out, "What's that ruckus in there?"

Gio and Nella called out together, as they put the other napkins at each place, avoiding the fighting twins with the ease of practice, "Napkin Fight."

"Carry on, then." There was the sound of a pause, "Gio, stop them if they go for silverware?"

"Sure thing, Ma," Gio said, finishing up his side of the table, before he glanced at the watch on his own wrist. "You got ten seconds to finish this up. 10, 9, 8…"

Ria paused, napkin in hand, as did Jack, and they both looked at their older brother warily. Gio had a sneaking habit of winning these particular battles by being the master of Napkin whipping. They glanced at each other, and nodded in silent truce, folding the napkins into neat squares again.

Gio nodded his head in silent approval, before he leaned on the table and lowered his voice, looking first to Jack. "Jack, whoever this guy is, we don't have any right to get mixed into Ria's affairs – unless this guy is a douchebag, and then we have to kick his ass." He and Jack shared an understanding look, before Gio continued, "Until that point – he's off-limits. Respect Ria's wishes on this."

He turned, pointing a finger at Ria, "As for you, if this guy doesn't like your family as is? He's not the guy for you, Ria, because he is never, ever going to get where you're coming from. You deserve someone who you never have to hide from." He thought about Betty, and added wryly, "Or someone you've got to hide from us."

Ria sighed, her beautiful face smoothing out into an expression of apology. "You're right." She leaned her lithe form against the chair, looking sheepishly over to Jack and Nella. "I'm sorry, guys, for being a jerk."

Jack and Nella nodded solemnly and Nella came over to pat her sister warmly on the arm. "We're sorry you were a jerk, too."

Ria gave her little sister a dark look, before just rolling her eyes and tugging on a strand of Nella's hair. Gio covered his smile with a cough, before he said firmly, "Right – Jack, you get plates. Nella, get glasses. Ten of them, carry them out in twos and not in threes. We like our mother not to have a heart attack." He waited until they disappeared into the kitchen, before he walked around the table and gave Ria a half-hug, and a nudge of the shoulder. "Good on you, sister. And, if this guy does hurt you, I'm going to turn him into a new leather coat, just for me."

Ria gave him a half smile, hip-bumping him. "Gonna put him in a pair of cement shoes?"

Gio mock sighed, bumping her back, "It was a joke! Jesus!" Jack and Nella stomped back in, and Gio went to help Nella with the glasses. "All right – what is up with everyone – I want actual details and not just what you've been telling Mom and Dad – Nella, you're up."

Nella started talking about her day – about the school Thanksgiving pageant and that everyone had better be there because this would probably be the only time she would get a solo in the choir – and Gio smiled, helping set the table. These were some of the moments he enjoyed most about coming home. Just chilling out, spending time with his brother and sisters. He thought briefly and regretfully of Betty Suarez – the last time he talked to her he hadn't asked how her family was doing. Apparently better – she seemed happy enough and wasn't worried about her father in Mexico. He should have asked, though.

Much to his chagrin, Betty Suarez remained in his thoughts for the rest of the afternoon. In fact, he was again brooding over how angry she was at him before they left things – even though she should be mad at herself! – and wondering why he felt vaguely guilty over it. He was staring off into space, and had to feel Nella's fist pounding into his shoulder to shake himself out of it, "Wait, what?"

Nella rolled her eyes, the twins grinned at one another, and Ada put one hand on her hip, giving her son a wry look, speaking slowly, "I said, would you get the door, Gio? That must be your sister and she must have her hands full." She came over to him, stroking back his hair. "You okay, sweetheart? You were a million miles away."

"Yeah, I'm fine, Ma." He smiled, patting her shoulder gently. "Just got a lot on my mind – is all. I'll go get the door for Luce."

Out of the kitchen, he berated himself silently. He shouldn't be getting so lost in the problems of some girl … no, not some girl. Betty. Betty was definitely different. Still, he was with his family. Shouldn't be letting himself get all … distracted. He opened the door and then smirked at the sight of his sister Luce, standing there with her arms filled with bottles of wine. "Ooo, nice Loser. Are we going on a bender before the wedding?"

Luce rolled her eyes, and shoved two bottles into his hands. "Please, Gruesome. Get drunk on your own time." She manhandled her way through the door, giving his cheek a quick kiss. "Samuel is parking the car – You will be nice to him, Giovanni!"

"You can't deny it, now. You're giving me booze to ensure my good behavior." Gio looked more closely at the label, closing the door behind her.

Luce gave him a sharp elbow, as she moved past him, her heels clicking on the hardwood floors. "No, these are from the Cohens. They wanted the family to taste-test these wines for the engagement fete."

"Fete … who uses a word like that?" Gio muttered under his breath as he followed her into the kitchen, reading the small print. "Besides, the only people in this family with any kind of palate are Grandpa Vanni and me – you couldn't tell a good wine from bad grape juice – woah!"

Luce bumped open the kitchen door with her butt - arching an eyebrow in his direction. "Woah – what? Hi everybody!"

(Cut here for length!)