AN: Lord help us all, I cannot believe I'm writing this. Okay people, keep in mind, my one true love among the fandoms is Psych. I remained loyal for years, before the spark left our relationship. Out of desperation, I had an affair with Numb3rs (the Eppes brothers have yet to call me back), and I thought once I got it out of my system, that would be that. With the start of a new season, I had believed I could go back to my beloved. But every 'experience', shall we say, leaves me wanting for more. And you know what they say, once you start... So, now I've come to this. An affair with two fandoms at once. I'm ashamed.
Seriously though, I've never written for either NCIS or Harry Potter (though I do read in them often), nor have I ever written a WIP story. So, any and all help would be greatly welcomed. Perhaps someone would like to offer services as a BETA for this fic?
SPOILERS: Takes place mid-season 4 of NCIS, but Tony is not undercover. Also, goes AU circa mid-book 6 of the HP 'verse.
WARNING: This is a WIP, so the warnings will change from chapter to chapter. Please make sure to look for the warnings at the beginning of each chapter. Also, a general warning for language and rating appropriate content. The rating may also change as the story continues.
Was it callous of him to wish that people would keep their homicidal urges to themselves after five o'clock?
Really, a guy would be just as dead in the morning as he would be in the evening. But no, the night life always brought out the crazy in people. So, of course, just as Tony had been settling down for a Bogart marathon, dispatch just had to call about a dead marine at a nightclub. And to top it off, Gibbs must have broken his phone again, because no one had been able to get a hold of him.
"Yeah, this is turning out to be a great night," he mumbled as he walked up the steps to his boss's house. Tony gave a single customary knock before walking in. "Boss! We've got a—" He stopped short and stood in the entry way, staring at the unknown person in front of him.
The young man certainly didn't seem like an assailant, given he was carrying two plates of hot food and was staring back at him with a nonplussed expression. His dark, reddish brown hair was in a messy disarray and his exotic green eyes blinked up at Tony in confusion.
"Uh, hi. I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo." The stranger gave him a nod. "I'm looking for Gibbs," he continued in an uncertain tone. He felt like he was missing something and the other man still hadn't said a word. Instead, Tony received a head jerk in a 'follow me' expression, before the stranger continued down the hallway and to the basement.
Gibbs was right where Tony had expected, working under the latest version of his boat. The stranger walked down the stairs, placed the plates on a bench, and then rapped his knuckles against one of the boat's ribs. Gibbs looked up with a curious expression, before he spotted Tony.
"Hey Boss, the Navy yard called us up for a case." For all his trouble, Tony got a grunt in response. He watched as Gibbs put his tools down and clipped on his gear, all the while keeping an eye on the stranger who had yet to be introduced and was calmly eating his food. "So, what did your cell do to piss you off this time?"
Gibbs sent the unknown young man a look and received a sheepish grin in return. "Tell McGee I'm going to need a new one."
Tony looked between the two and, yeah, he was definitely missing something here. Gibbs was way too comfortable with this kid, but Tony's first suspicion was immediately dismissed. The stranger was pretty hot, even with the weird black band around his neck. But, not only was the old Marine as straight as a sniper rifle, Tony really couldn't see his boss as a cradle robber. Which left...well, he had no idea what was left, but it was sure to be something good.
"Put the tools away for me, would ya?" Tony was shocked to hear Gibbs ask the stranger.
The young man pointed to the untouched plate of food with a questioning look.
"Just wrap it up and stick it in the fridge. I'll eat it later."
The stranger made a grabbing motion, then pinched his fingers together and pressed them to his mouth a few times, all with a stern expression.
Tony felt like he was in the Twilight Zone, as he watched his boss give the kid a small smile. "Yeah, I'll pick up something to eat later," Gibbs responded with the fondly exasperated tone that Tony had only ever heard used on Abby.
He was pretty sure his feet were rooted to the spot as he stared at the stranger, even as Gibbs walked up the stairs past him. All he got in return for his leering was a raised eyebrow and a confused little wave. Tony smiled and waved back like an idiot.
Tony jumped, feet now completely uprooted. "On your six, Boss!" Halfway up the stairs, he turned to get one last look. "See ya later," he said with his best Italian drawl, which unfortunately came out a little higher pitched than he would have liked. The stranger tilted his head to one side, with a bemused little smile.
When he reached the car, Gibbs was already settled in the driver's seat. Tony buckled himself into the passenger side and prepared his stomach for the coming roller-coaster ride. In a very unsubtle approach, he began his questioning with, "So, uh, that guy was...?"
"My nephew," Gibbs answered with a familiar growl that told Tony he'd reached his conversation quota for the car ride.
"So, show of hands — who knew Gibbs had a nephew?"
The staccato clacking of McGee's typing stopped and Ziva looked up from the folder she was reading with raised eyebrows.
The case, thankfully, had been a quick solve. It was also a reminder for Tony to avoid pissing off any ex-lovers. No case, however, meant he was free to pursue another matter.
"He has a what?" The poor little probie looked as if he'd just been told the Computer Pixie didn't exist. Ziva leaned forward with a look of interest, her eyes flicking back and forth between them.
Tony stood and ran an expert eye through the bullpen. Once he was sure Gibbs wasn't about to materialize from the shadows, he sat back down and spoke in a stage whisper. "A nephew. As in an actual blood relative or something."
"I swear on my SIG, McDoubtful. I met him when I had to pick up Gibbs the night before last."
He and Probie shared a look, before obviously coming to the same conclusion, while Ziva continued to watch them in confusion. McGee turned back to his computer and began typing at a furious pace. As McGee worked, Tony leaned back in his chair and picked up a folder, looking for all the world like he was simply reading a report, all the while inconspicuously keeping an eye out for their boss.
When she realized what they were doing, Ziva sent them both a reproachful look. "I do not believe this is a proper allocation of NCIS resources." She was quickly shushed by both men, before they went back to their current tasks.
After a tense minute, McGee's 'Ah ha!' of success had Tony rolling his chair eagerly to the younger agent's desk. He sent Ziva a smirk, which she pointedly ignored, when she quickly and not-so-casually made her way over as well. "Special Agent Gibbs' file," McGee stated with a satisfied voice. "Ducky is listed as his medical proxy, but he has another name on his emergency contact list—Evan Jameson. There's a notation here to contact him by text, voicemail, or email only." Ziva and McGee sent Tony a questioning look.
"Yeah, the kid didn't say a word when I was there. And he spoke to Gibbs in Sign. I couldn't tell if he was deaf or mute, though."
McGee turned back to his computer, brought up another program, and typed a bit more. "Evan Jameson, age twenty-six. Records say he showed up in the U.S. a few months shy of eighteen, where he was emancipated and given dual-citizenship for here and Britain. It'll take some more time and effort to look for anything on him in Britain's records."
"Why not simply ask?" Tony stared at Ziva as if she'd grown another head. "What?"
"Are you insane, woman? You can't just ask Gibbs questions like that!"
"Questions like what, DiNozzo?" Gibbs appeared from around the corner in a fairly ghost-like fashion.
They all backed away from the computer, like teenagers caught smoking cigarettes. "Ah, nothing Boss. Ziva was just wondering if you ever thought about settling down again?" Tony sent a smirk her way, grateful that she was the fall guy for once.
"I do not believe it to be healthy, remaining a bachelor for so long," Ziva said, playing along, and glaring at him out of the corner of her eye.
Gibbs settled himself behind his desk and sent her a look. "Been divorced three times, David, and I got a concussion out of one of them. I'm healthier as a bachelor."
While McGee looked to be doing his best to calm a racing heart, Tony and Ziva made their way back to their desks. Before going back to her own, Ziva leaned over to hiss into his ear. "I do not enjoy being made a scape-sheep. And it is not Gibbs that I meant for you to ask. After all, who do we know that has been his friend the longest?"