Actions

Work Header

Two Lawyers Walked into an Italian Restaurant

Work Text:

“When you said you’d found an authentic Italian restaurant, this is not what I expected,” Harvey commented.

“What were you expecting?” Mike asked as he held open the door and waited for Harvey to saunter through first. He’d learned early on in their working relationship that Harvey might bitch and moan, but he enjoyed being pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t until they’d started a more personal relationship that Mike had learned to plan his surprises.

“Spam,” Harvey deadpanned as he looked around for a host or hostess. “Lots of Spam.”

Mike shuddered, he’d had enough experience with Spam to never want to see it again and the Hawaiians seemed to put it on everything. He took a deep breath and was pleased to smell nothing but fresh bread and Italian spices. “I didn’t see anything about Spam on the menu,” he offered.

“That’s because Spam is an abomination,” a blond said as he came out of the kitchen. “Sit…”

“Because Danno doesn’t know what’s good.” A second man, this one tall and brunette, also exited the kitchen.

The blond, apparently Danno, turned to face the other man. “I? I don’t know what’s good?” he demanded. “I happen to love masalas and I’m even willing to eat that atrocity you call loco moco, but I draw the line at Spam.” When the other man opened his mouth, the first held up a finger. “No. Not in my restaurant.”

“Ours,” the darker haired man was quick to point out. He held a hand out to Harvey. “I’m Steve. And this is Danno.”

“Danny,” the blond corrected.

Steve indicated the partially empty room. “Sit wherever you’d like. Someone will come take your order in a moment.”

“The menus are on the table,” Danny added.

Harvey and Mike settled at one of the tables in the back. Reaching for the menus, they fell to discussing the different dishes. Maybe it wasn’t L’Artusi, but it felt like they were back home in New York. And Mike was already dreaming of the pasta they would share. It would probably be their best date in Hawaii.

A few minutes after they sat down, a pretty teenage girl came up to their table. Setting down a glass of water for each of them, she rattled off the specials while she set up bread and a small plate of oil and herbs.

Mike quickly ordered spaghetti and meatballs while Harvey questioned her about the different specials before settling on carbonara with shrimp.

“Grace, finish up and go take Duke’s order,” Danny called from the kitchen doorway.

Grace rolled her eyes. “He wants a meatball sub, Danno. He always gets the sub.” She double checked the orders of the two men before heading over to the counter.

Mike watched as she interacted familiarly with the man Danny had called Duke before disappearing back into the kitchen. As they waited for their food, they discussed the tourist sites they had already visited and what they wanted to do next.

Grace was just coming out of the kitchen, a plate in either hand when the front door to the restaurant burst open. She froze, already too far into the restaurant proper to retreat back into the kitchen, as two men in ski masks stalked into the building.

“Where’s Kamekona?” one of them demanded as the other gestured with a pistol for people to get up and group together. As Harvey and Mike stood, Harvey stepped slightly in front of the younger man, partially blocking him from view.

Danny and Steve had slipped from the kitchen, Danny moving to Grace and easing the plates from her hands. He stepped in front of her as Steve glared at the two men. “He’s not here,” Danny answered.

“Get him here,” the man demanded. Drawing his own gun, he pointed it at Danny. “Now!”

“I can’t just…” Danny started, but Steve interrupted whatever he was about to say, “He doesn’t work for us.”

Harvey held his hands up, taking a step forward. The man’s pistol swung towards him and Harvey drew up short. Behind him, Mike wound his fingers into the back of Harvey’s shirt. “I’m a lawyer,” Harvey started, ignoring the mumble of, “In New York” from behind him. “Perhaps I can mediate…”

The man took a step forward. “I don’t need a fancy-pants lawyer telling me what to do.”

“I’m not attempting to tell you what to do, simply offering to negotiate a meeting,” Harvey answered, still calm in the face of the gun.

“We’ve got this,” Steve insisted. His words drew the man’s attention back from Harvey.

The man that hadn’t spoken, simply brandishing his pistol, slided up to the first man. He said something too low for anyone to catch. The speaker nodded, then slowly back towards the door. “We’re going. We’ll be back. Make Kamekona is here.”

Steve started after the men as soon as they exited through the door, but Grace grabbed his arm. “No!” she cried. “No, Steve.”

The man immediately halted, even as Danny came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, Gracie,” Steve told her as he turned back to her. He looked over her head at the other waitress, “Call 5-0. And Kamekona.” He turned again to address Harvey. “Thank you. For trying to help. We have it from here.”

Harvey nodded, but as they returned to their seat, Mike wondered if that really was the end of it.