To be honest, I'm a little nervous about this fic, guys. It's my first multichapter without Smart Angel *cries and reaches out toward her*

You guys, I'm very sorry, but this fic is a modern day AU and Gilbert and Oz have no past together. ): They have to meet for the first time in order for me to do what I want with this story.
Oh and the numbers inside parentheses: (#) are footnotes ;)
The rating will go up on this! But not just yet...

Thanks to MirrorDede for working her magic on this fic! :D

If I owned Pandora Hearts, people probably wouldn't read it. And then MochiJun-sensei would buy the rights off me. Hopefully.

-Chapter 1: Raising Gold Eyebrows-

-9 April, 2010-Friday-

Gilbert Nightray scooted backward in his rolling chair, just enough to peek his head out from his cubicle on the second floor of the southern office of the P.I.A. (Pandora Intelligence Agency). He looked left, and then he looked right. No one was coming. No supervisor, anyway. Good. Gripping the wall of his cubicle, he pulled himself back in to his desk and computer screen. He was only a few more draws away from winning this game, he could feel it.

It turned out that Gilbert was only two draws away from winning the game. It's about time, he thought. He rarely ever won at Solitaire. Perhaps that was why he played so much.

But as he was giving himself a figurative pat on the back he heard the sound of footsteps coming toward him. Footsteps. Someone was coming. How did they manage to get so close without him noticing?

He minimized the page just as Oscar Vessalius appeared behind him. He saw the man's reflection through the monitor and let out a sigh of relief. "Oscar, I thought you were Barma."

"Is that why you're so jumpy?" Oscar reached over a pulled the page back up.

He nodded upon seeing the multi-colored fireworks that adorned the screen. "Congratulations on your win... But I don't see why you're nervous about getting caught. It's almost lunch anyway."

"But I'm still supposed to be working." Not to be misunderstood, Gilbert was an extremely hard-worker. He was also organized and focused. Which meant that he got things done quicker. Since he had already met his quota of paperwork for the week a few minutes previous (it was Friday, after all), he treated himself to a little game. He would get back to work after lunch. Just because he had met the minimum didn't mean that there wasn't more to do.

"And besides, he's right there." He pointed across the way to Barma's office, which was quite close. Oscar just shrugged.

"So I heard you're going to Headquarters," Gilbert said, pulling a turkey sandwich out of the brown paper bag on his desk as he did almost every day at this time. He made a mental note to add more variety to his lunches.

Oscar, having left his lunch atop his own desk, leaned against the wall of Gilbert's cubicle with a sigh. "Yep, a two week training at Headquarters (1). Well, almost two weeks: I leave on Monday and return on Friday of the following week."

"You don't seem too happy about it," Gilbert noted before biting into his sandwich, careful to hold it over a napkin so as not to spill any of the mustard. He did not want to spend the rest of the day with a big yellow stain on the front of his white business shirt, or worse, his black pants... Not that he cared all that much, or anything like that.

Refocusing on the conversation, he didn't see where the problem was with Oscar's leaving. Trainings weren't the best things in the world, but having to attend one was a far cry from torturous or even bothersome. In fact, he kind of liked the change of pace that it brought.

"I don't really care about the training," Oscar clarified, "but I feel bad about leaving Oz all alone."

Oz. Gilbert had heard that name before. "Oh, your nephew. Isn't he a teenager?"

Oscar rubbed a hand over his eyes. "He is, but I don't think he's ever had to take care of himself before. There was always at least a housekeeper around while Zai was busy ignoring him. Besides, I just wouldn't feel right leaving him here alone after all that's happened."

"You just got custody and everything." (2)

"Mhm. He doesn't really talk about it, but it's got to affect him in some way... I just don't know."

Gilbert nodded. He didn't know much about Oscar's nephew, but this wasn't the first time he had heard of the boy's tendency to mask his emotions.

Oscar bit into the apple he'd brought with him. "Anyhow, Oz is a smart kid so I guess he'll be fine... But, Gilbert, would you do something for me?"

"Sure," Gilbert answered, finishing his sandwich, "What is it?"

"I'd really owe you if you'd check up on Oz while I'm gone. Just every so often, to make sure he's doing okay."

The kid was fifteen years old. He probably wouldn't need or want much from Gilbert at all. But if it would put Oscar at ease then okay. "No problem. I already owe you anyway."

"Thanks a lot, Gilbert." He stood to return to his workstation.

"Don't worry about it... Oh, but... this makes us even now, right?"

Oscar laughed and shook his head. "Of course not!"

... ... ...

Floor 2 Supervisor, Rufus Barma, leaned back in a comfy chair in his office. He had been hard at work looking over a report when suddenly he heard a rather loud, "Well maybe I won't help you then!"

He didn't even need to poke his head out of his office to know which nearby cubicle the noise had come from. He sighed and went back to work.

...Someone's provoking Gilbert again...

-11 April, 2010-Sunday-

Gilbert glanced at the clock on the dashboard of his car: 6:08 PM. Perfect, he was right on time. At this rate, it would be only a few minutes before he reached Oscar's house. They were expecting him for dinner at 6:00, but he had planned his arrival to be a few minutes late in courtesy of his hosts. (3)

Turning onto the street given to him in the directions, Gilbert drove slowly down the street, scanning the address numbers of the model homes.

103... 105... 107... There it was: 109. And the time was twelve minutes after six. He parked on the side of the street, walked up to the house and rang the doorbell.

When the door opened, Gilbert's breath caught in his throat. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but this was certainly not it. Standing in the entryway was a noticeably short kid with blond hair and vivid green eyes that held a curious expression. "Are you Gilbert?" he asked.

"Umm, yes. Are you... Oz?"

The boy smiled at him, "That's me. Come on in, Uncle Oscar is still cooking." Oz led him inside and into the kitchen.

Oscar, who was previously bent over a stove, turned around to greet his guest when they entered. He was wearing a blue apron that read "Kiss the cook," in red lettering, which Gilbert wisely ignored. "Gilbert! You're right on time, I'm almost finished."

So Oz took a seat on top of the counter and Gilbert leaned against it while they waited for Oscar to finish up what smelt like spaghetti and meatballs. This was precisely the sort of awkward silence Gilbert had tried to avoid by showing up late. But it didn't last long, thanks to his expert timing. As soon as Oscar had completed the "finishing touches", they made their way to the table with the food.

As it turned out, Oscar was quite the cook: the spaghetti was delicious. But despite this, Gilbert was far too distracted to fully appreciate the food. He hadn't meant to, but he kept staring at the boy sitting across from him. How could he not, the kid was like nothing Gilbert had ever seen. Surely Oz had given the sun a run for his money. His smile made his eyes brighter, his eyes made his smile brighter, and his hair was an ethereal glow atop his illuminated head.

He was pretty, very pretty, as far as young boys go anyway. Yes, what a pretty little ray of sunshine this Oz Vessalius was.

He was so striking, in fact, that Gilbert was helpless to tear his gaze away. And it only got worse after Oz noticed what he was doing, then he was staring and blushing. Oz didn't say anything though, only raised a golden eyebrow before stuffing a meatball into his mouth.

But this was normal, wasn't it? Gilbert was only taking in the boy's appearance, nothing more. They had just met, after all, and first impressions had to be made.

And so Gilbert ate his meal in an awkward fashion, fidgeting and trying his best to make small talk, and begging his eyes to migrate over to his plate, to Oscar, to anything that wasn't Oz. The very minute everyone had finished eating Gilbert stood abruptly from his seat.

"Okay! I have to go! I-I'm really sorry!" He gathered up his dishes and hurried into the kitchen to place them in the sink.

Oscar stood as well. "You... you don't have to do that. I'll take care of the dishes."

But Gilbert's mind could barely even register the statement. (4) All he knew was that he was getting more and more flustered by the minute just by looking at that Vessalius kid, and it felt... weird. He just had to get out of there. "Oh um... okay, b-but I do have to go."

Oz watched him stumble around with mild amusement. "Gilbert, are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine! I... I-I have get some groceries."

"...Groceries...?"

"Y-yeah! You know the store by my house? The-the Walmart? I have to get there before it closes so... thanks for your hospitality, the food was great!" Gilbert gave them one last awkward smile before throwing himself out the door.

"O-Okay. Bye Gilbert.."

A rushed, "See you tomorrow!" managed to slip through the closing door, leaving the uncle and nephew wearing more than perplexed expressions.

"...Uncle Oscar, what time does the Walmart close...?"

"...I'm pretty sure it's open 24 hours..."

(1) Not a physical training. Government employees are constantly going to all kinds of trainings for various things so that they are better equipped to do their jobs
(2) Oscar has custody of Ada too. Bye bye, Zai! I mean really, wasn't he never home in canon? You think that's gonna fly in the real world?
(3) Just in case they aren't ready yet at the time he was supposed to arrive
(4) He was just going to put them in the sink and leave anyway. When a guy's got to get out of there, he's got to get out of there!

Really, I have no idea what it is with me and turkey lately. Alice had a turkey leg in the last fic and now Gil has a turkey sandwich! At least they didn't have turkey for dinner (maybe Oscar used turkey meatballs) XD ...I just realized that there will be a lot of eating in this fic...

For now, don't ask about Oz's background information too much. Oz will explain it all himself later. *hands mic* go warm up your voice, Oz!
By the way, I didn't come up with the P.I.A. on my own. I can't post links in fics but I'll link you to where I found it on my profile ;)

See you all next chapter! :D