AN: Sorry, sorry. I really did think I was going to be able to get this up by Tuesday, but then I remembered that I had to turn in a draft for my French project and then I had to deal with some issues with my college scholarships...and etcetera. So, quick Q&A here.
1) A couple of people have asked why this fic is listed as Romance/Drama instead of Romance/Humor. Well, I really don't know why, actually. That was the original intention. I really hadn't meant for this to end up being as funny and cute as it apparently is. But as I was writing, I thought about it and...well, really, I think we've already got a good number of war torn Harry's out there in the world. I dunno. I might change the genre to Romance/Humor. I think it will gradually get a little more dramatic though (*glances at end of chapter inconspicuously*), but I promise to do my best not to lose the humor.
2) Yes, Evan/Harry does speak ASL instead of BSL for a reason. But that's a part of my fragile plot, so you'll just have to wait for the reason. Also, because he has to travel so much, I've imagined Evan/Harry being a bit of a polyglot (i.e., language buff), even though he can't...you know...speak.
3) I should probably mention, I'm not the most PC of people. So, if you see something that you think is a bit offensive...do your best to ignore it, yeah? It's not intended to be offensive.
And since so many requested it, there's a bit more Uncle/Nephew dynamic here and to come.
Chapter 9
Fav food? Tony typed the question on his phone and sent it to Evan.
He leaned back in his chair, cell phone in hand, and waited. His co-workers have been complaining that his good mood has turned pathological, but he really couldn't help it. Honestly, he's surprised he hasn't strained something, he's been grinning so hard for so long. But there were no dead bodies that required justice, most of his paper work was finished, and what wasn't could damn well wait, and he hadn't received a call from Andromeda, the princess/constellation/stalker, for almost three whole days.
The best part of the day, of course, was that he'd just had a spectacular lunch with Evan in a nice little Spanish restaurant. There was still too much he didn't know about the silent young man, however, and he'd convinced Evan to dust off his cell phone so they could continue the Q&A they'd started at the diner.
Toss up between blueberries & chocolate. You? Evan's message read.
"Tony?"
He grunted in a vaguely questioning fashion, but refused to take his eyes off his phone as he typed. I like oysters, he replied and made a mental note to special order some chocolate covered blueberries. It wasn't too early in their relationship for gourmet chocolates, was it?
"Okay, what's wrong with him?" He heard McGee ask.
"He has been texting Evan since he came back. Apparently, his lunch date was 'spectacular.'" Ziva huffed and he could practically hear the air quotes she used, but refused to comment as his phone buzzed once more.
Ha. You like oysters or the effect they have?
"Spectacular? He used the word spectacular?" McGee sounded disturbed.
Ziva hummed. "Yes, and then went on to do nothing but sit there and stare at his phone. I believe he is apples."
Lol. Chocolates are aphrodisiacs too. Tony continued to pointedly ignore his partners.
"Bananas, Ziva."
"No thank you, McGee."
Probie sighed. "No, Ziva. You mean he's bananas."
Lol? Evan's avoidance of most things electrically inclined, Tony had learned during their text sessions, also seemed to include an ignorance of text and computer lingo. Sometimes Tony was half convinced he and Gibbs actually were biologically related.
Means 'laughing out loud.' Try using shorthand, it's easier.
"I was under the impression Americans were quite fond of apples. Apple pies and such, yes?" Ziva questioned in a confused tone.
"We are. That's why bananas mean crazy, not apples," McGee explained.
His phone buzzed again. Lol? I'm mute Tony. None of my laughing is out loud.
Don't be a smart ass. Fav song? Tony sent his reply and finally looked up from the screen to see McGee standing next to Ziva's desk, downing his coffee like it would help stave off the headache that often came with having to explain cultural differences to Ziva. "What the hell are you two talking about?"
Ziva shrugged. "Apparently you are a fruit."
McGee snorted and choked on the coffee, his body convulsing as he tried to quickly cough up the acrid liquid. Tony stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm not opening that can of worms."
"What worms? I am confused," Ziva said, glancing between them.
"So am I," Gibbs said, rounding the corner from behind the stairs. "I don't see any reports on my desk."
His phone buzzed while McGee quickly made his way to his desk, still coughing, and Ziva turned her attention to her computer. Behind the cover of his desk and computer, he inconspicuously opened his message. Je veux te voir. Heard and loved it during my last assignment. Feel kind of bad for Cuizinier though.
Tony blinked. He hadn't been expecting that. You know French? He sent it and then turned to his computer when Gibbs sent him a look.
When his phone alerted him to another text, he really hoped Gibbs' hearing wasn't good enough to pick up the vibrating. Know enough. Have to know languages with how much I travel.
Your uncle is glaring at me, I think I need to work. Text later. He flipped his phone closed and tried to look like he was focused on his computer in an attempt to appease his boss. It probably wouldn't make things better if he said he was slacking off to chat up the man's nephew.
"Ziva." They all looked up at Gibbs expectantly. "Fruit is one of the less offensive derogatory terms for a homosexual."
Tony ducked behind his screen to try and smother his laughter at her scandalized look.
The last restaurant had been Evan's choice, which meant dinner that night was Tony's. It was one of the more upscale places and Evan had no idea where it was. Of course the guy didn't exactly get out much when he was in D.C. and had no idea how to navigate the streets, which left one option for Tony.
The prospect had left him a bit twitchy, but in the end Tony figured the pros out weighed the cons and agreed to pick Evan up at Gibbs' house.
"Come in, DiNozzo," was the response he got when he arrived at the door of the old colonial home.
Tony lowered his fist from where it was poised to knock and looked around, wondering if Gibbs had maybe installed some sort of security system or cameras. It was either that, or Gibbs' hearing had reached omnipotent levels. There was, of course, no security.
He took a deep breath, straightened his spine, pulled his shoulders back, and pushed open the door. He could hear music coming from somewhere in the house and his boss was sitting on the couch in the living room, calmly reading a book that looked to be about war tactics, judging by the cover illustrations, and Tony resolutely ignored the shiver that ran down his spine. Gibbs may have claimed that he was fine with his and Evan's burgeoning relationship, but that didn't keep Tony from feeling like he was seventeen again and meeting Sandra Lee's father before taking her to prom.
"Uh, hey Boss."
Gibbs didn't look up from his book, instead simply raised a hand and pointed over Tony's shoulder at the entry way to the kitchen. Tony turned and made his way to where the music was coming from, before stopping at the doorway to take in the rather bizarre sight. The image of Gibbs and domesticity had never quite meshed in his mind, even with Evan added to the mix. So the sight of the young man at work in the kitchen, mouthing along to an old rock song, head bobbing and hips swaying as he cooked, and knowing that Gibbs was in the next room, lounging with a book, at complete ease... Well, half his mind was entirely too interested in Evan's hips, but the other half was thinking something more along the lines of '...what?'
For one terrifying moment, Tony was sure that Evan had tricked him into coming to dinner here at Gibbs' house. Then he noticed, with no small amount of relief because he was just not ready for that scenario, that the portions Evan was making were too small to feed three.
When Evan dipped his hips once more, the wolf whistle was passing through his lips before he could even think to stop it. Evan started in surprise, almost turning over the pot of vegetables he was stirring, and Tony winced, chancing a look over his shoulder at Gibbs. His boss stared at him with hard, blue eyes, a warning clear and well received by Tony. He gave a nervous smile and hurried into the kitchen and the relative safety that Evan offered. Gibbs wouldn't maim him in front of his nephew, right?
Evan turned down the radio and raised an eyebrow at him. "It was practically instinct, I couldn't help it." Tony offered a sheepish shrug before waving at the food. "What's all this?"
Evan rolled his eyes. If I do not, uncle will only order out.
"Gibbs can cook, you know."
Red meat, the silent man scoffed.
Tony mentally reviewed all the meals he's shared with his boss and, well, yeah steaks did seem to be about the only thing Gibbs served. "So, did I come too early?"
Evan shook his head. Just finished. Five minutes.
He was out of the kitchen and walking up the stairs before Tony could get out a half strangled, "Don't leave me alone."
Tony lingered in the kitchen, noting that Evan's food looked about as good as what they were going to find at 'Passerotto Mio' later, before steeling himself and walking back into the living room. The man was still in the exact same position and Tony suspected Gibbs was enjoying all the squirming he was doing. Tony rocked back and forth on his feet and Gibbs continued to read without so much as twitch.
"Good book, Boss?"
Gibbs tilted the book so that Tony could read the title — Dark Justice: The History of Punishment and Torture.
Tony gulped. "Oh."
After another few tense moments of silence, the man finally seemed to take pity on him. "You expecting me to give you a curfew or something, DiNozzo?"
Yes. "No. No, of course not, Gibbs."
Evan, thankfully, chose that moment to descend the stairs and thoroughly distract Tony with his green button down and very...very slim black slacks. Tony forced his eyes not to stray too far down. There'd be time for that kind of looking when Gibbs wasn't in the same room.
Ready, Evan signed and Tony nodded in relief. Evan turned to Gibbs and motioned towards the kitchen before pointedly signing, Eat.
"Mother hen," Gibbs muttered, but nodded and waved them off.
Mother bear, Evan signed back with a scowl.
Tony choked back a laugh at Gibbs' offended look and made a hasty exit out the front door.
You did not, Evan attempted to sign while clutching his stomach, shaking with laughter.
"I swear, I had no idea she was a he," Tony chuckled and held open the restaurant's door as they made their way outside and began walking to the parking garage.
You dog, Evan smirked.
"Hey," Tony playfully glared at Evan. "I may be bisexual, but I am not into transvestites. No offense meant, but I like to know what kind of sex I'm getting."
The young man tilted his head back in what would have been a full out belly laugh and Tony ignored the twinge in his chest at the silence. Evan had calmed down by the time they reached the floor the car was on and looked like he had more to say on the matter. Instead, however, he stopped short, head tilted a bit to the side and staring off to their right.
Just as Tony was about to ask what was wrong, Evan's eyes widened and he grabbed Tony's coat, dragging him behind the classic chevy they'd been standing next to. Before they were fully behind the cover the car offered, a loud, achingly familiar pop sounded and a bullet hit the pavement where they had been standing.
"Shit!" Tony crouched down low behind the car and reached out to Evan with his left hand, pressing him firmly against the metal, while his right grabbed the gun in his ankle holster. He chanced a glance through the car's window, trying to get a fix on the shooter's location. When he felt Evan tapping at his arm, he crouched back down and looked at him questioningly.
Car, Evan signed and held out his hand in a 'give me' motion.
Tony nodded and reached into his pocket for the car keys, before passing them over. Wait for my go, he signed haphazardly with his gun still in hand.
Evan nodded in understanding, still maintaining a strangely cool and collected demeanor. They were going to have a talk about that later, because so far as Tony knew, Evan shouldn't know how to stay calm while being shot at.
When the next shot took out the car's passenger window, Tony positioned himself over the hood and returned fire. "Go!"
Evan, apparently, had failed to mention how much speed he had packed away in his unassuming figure. Another shot went off the moment Evan leapt from behind the car, but it missed by a good foot, and Tony continued to fire into the shadows were the bullets were coming from. Tony glanced over to see Evan weaving through the maze of cars and was surprised to notice that the young man had already put enough distance between them that Tony could also move. There would be enough time for Evan to have the car going already, by the time Tony made it there.
Firing once more, Tony stood and ran, following Evan's path. Sure enough, once he yanked his car door open, the other man was already pulling out of the parking spot at a dangerous speed. Tony grunted as his body was forced against the passenger side door, when Evan hugged the corner he was taking so tightly, Tony was surprised he didn't hear metal scraping against concrete.
"Where the hell did you learn to drive?" Tony screeched at Evan when he literally smelled burnt rubber.
Uncle, Evan signed calmly.
"Both hands on the wheel!" Tony breathed a sigh of relief when they made it out of the parking garage intact, turning on to the main street, where Evan promptly maneuvered the car to the left side of the road. "Son of bitch! Right side, Evan, right!"
Evan sent him a quick apologetic smile, before quickly turning back to the road and the symphony of car horns and squealing tires.
Once they made it to the interstate, and Tony really wasn't sure how much more his heart could handle, he loosened his grip on on the passenger's handle bar and turned to look out the rear window. "I really don't think there's anyone following us, Evan. You can start obeying traffic laws now."
Evan rolled his eyes. Phone uncle.
"Yeah, yeah I am." Tony sighed and dug out his cell phone, wondering how the hell he was going to explain this to Gibbs. "So, who do you think they were shooting at, federal agent or foreign diplomat?"
