[SG1/Leverage] Thieves Among Us
Jun. 25th, 2013 05:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dontwantmebackTitle: Thieves Among Us
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1/Leverage
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Length: 2001 words
Sitting in the briefing room, the picture of some minor Goa'uld vying for some sort of power projected on the wall and a file in front of him detailing the guy's activities on Earth, Cameron sighed. This sort of thing was happening a little too often since they'd dealt with they'd defeated the Ori. Sam was always quick to point out that these Goa'uld were up to this sort of thing before they'd even fought the Ori, but Cameron was equally quick to argue that it didn't count if they didn't know about it. Which even he knew was ridiculous, but it at least made him feel better about no one noticing what was going on for so long. They were supposed to defend people from things like this, not let the evil alien parasites take over the planet.
"So we're going to Portland to handle this?" Cameron asked, pushing his file away and leaning back in his chair.
"Yes. It won't be easy, though," Sam noted. "We can't just walk in there and kill her."
"I know that. But I think I know someone."
***
"I got us a job."
Nate looked up at him, all confusion and curiosity, and in that annoyingly flat tone he sometimes took echoed: "You got us a job?"
"That's what I said. An old Air Force buddy needs some help and I owe him a favour."
Eliot had actually only known Cameron Mitchell for a few months. They'd been stationed at the same post, even arrived within days of each other, and they probably never would have met at all if not for the fact that one week after arriving in the desert, Eliot and his team were simultaneously nearly killed and completely saved by a round of fire from an F-16 passing overhead. He'd tracked down the pilot later and, after punching the guy in the face -- a stupendously bad move, it turned out; Mitchell was an officer and Eliot only wore stripes -- he bought a round as thanks for saving his guys.
They hadn't spoken in years. Not more than a general delivery post card or the like since Mitchell had pieced together Eliot's career change. But when Mitchell had called him out of the blue and asked for help, Eliot knew it had to be important.
"What's the job?" Nate always wanted details.
"It's classified."
***
"Why the hell are we doing a job for the military? Don't they have people for this sort of thing? And are you somehow not aware that these people could arrest us?"
Cameron could hear the shouting even as his team approached the bar he'd been told to meet his old friend at, and he couldn't help but chuckle. He wasn't completely clueless as to what Spencer had been up to -- the SGC had impressive access to things that had nothing to do with planetary defence -- he just chose to pretend he was and this once, that was coming in handy.
It was a familiar voice, but one he had not heard in years, that answered the shouting as Cameron opened the door to the building.
"They're the Air Force, Hardison, not the police. No one's going to arrest you so just shut up already."
"No! You know what? I'm not going to shut up! Because for another thing? How the hell are we supposed to do a job when it's classified."
So that guy reminded Cameron of McKay, and he exchanged a look with Sam that said exactly that before speaking up. "Actually, only the reason why we need this done is classified."
Everyone looked up, and all but Spencer looked surprised, apparently not noticing they'd come in. Cameron chose to ignore them for a moment, most of them looked pretty grumpy about them anyway and he figured another moment wasn't going to make them any less happy, instead smiling broadly and going to grab his friend's hand and pull the man into a half hug. The kind that was entirely manly and acceptable because it had been a long time.
"Mitchell."
"Spencer. How've you been?"
"Can't complain. Looks like you've gotten pretty important if they're sending you for this sort of thing." And by that, Spencer clearly meant 'doing something not entirely legal with the blessing of the government.'
"I'm regular CIA now," Cameron laughed, and gestured over his shoulder to the rest of his team. "My team. Colonel Samantha Carter, Doctor Daniel Jackson, Vala MalDoran and Teal'c. Guys, this is Eliot Spencer; he thinks he saved my life once or twice."
"I know I saved your life more than once or twice."
"Saved yours more," Cameron pointed out, and laughed again.
***
Mitchell had barely changed in the many years since they'd last seen each other. Not as much as Eliot had, anyway, that was for sure. He still had that bright-eyed eager thing about him, the kind every guy had at the start but no one ever kept, and it made Eliot wonder what kind of job Mitchell had started at recently enough to have that again. He nodded a greeting to Mitchell's team, though, as they were introduced, and gestured to the four gathered by the bar and looking more put out than ever by the job.
"My crew. Parker, Hardison, Sophie, Nate."
Sophie and Nate, at least, were socially adept enough to be polite and say hello, sit everyone down so they could talk about the job. Mitchell and his team would stay out of it, everyone agreed, as much as possible; this wasn't their sort of work and they'd just get in the way. But they'd be there if an extra face was needed. All Eliot and the others had to do was get some woman, head of some company that Eliot knew the military couldn't ever really be interested in, to leave her position and get her alone to a warehouse where Mitchell's people would be waiting. Easy enough.
Hardison gave the presentation, from a laptop rather than on the wall, and it was pretty much exactly the same as usual, but when it was finished Hardison shrugged. "Aside from apparently not existing before five years ago, she looks like just your average CEO right down to the usual dirty laundry."
Mitchell made an impressed noise and turned to Carter.
"Why doesn't this guy work for us?"
"This pays better," Hardison quipped before the woman could answer.
***
Cameron and the rest of his team spent the next week just sitting back and waiting. They got daily progress reports from their not so law-abiding associates, and it seemed like things were going well. With some well-placed intel from Jackson, it looked like they'd finish the job sooner rather than later. And attesting to the skills of the team they'd hired, before the week was out the call came. The one announcing the Goa'uld Pakhet was on her way and they should be ready for her.
Sophie, hair covered with a pale scarf and speaking with an accent Jackson assured was regionally appropriate to Egypt, walked her in; the host a tall, dark woman in a power suit that was probably already sorely missed by any family she had. They took her out with zats and restrained her, Cameron cleared their helpers from the building so she could be beamed to the Odyssey and later taken to the Tok'ra for extraction.
He never really understood exactly what it was these people had done, or how they had done it, just that it involved a lot of smooth talking, some clever breaking and entering, and more than a little computer hacking, but standing there leaning against the warehouse beside Spencer felt like old times and Cameron didn't much care what they'd done.
***
"They have transporters!" Hardison's voice rang in Eliot's ear. "How the hell does the Air Force have transporters?"
They'd wired the warehouse, video and sound, before they'd even started the job, everyone dying to know exactly what was going on with the Air Force wanting some businesswoman. Eliot didn't even bother protesting, wanting to know what exactly Mitchell was up to and knowing that asking straight out would get him no answers. Not Mitchell's fault or anything, that was just how military guys were -- and he knew that from experience -- and Eliot wanted to know more than he wanted to care about things like 'classified'.
Mitchell didn't seem to notice when Eliot's eyebrows raised in surprise and he took out his earpiece to cut off Hardison's ranting about transporters and how impossible it was that anyone had transporters without him knowing about it. Not to mention energy weapons and whatever else.
Eliot could not have cared less about what the Air Force had or didn't have. Though the idea of transporters did sound pretty cool.
Instead of listening to the rants, Eliot looked over to Mitchell, leaning against the warehouse beside him and chattering inanely about something or other. Talking without actually saying anything, like he always had.
"Buy you a drink?" Eliot interrupted, and Mitchell laughed.
"Am I boring you, Spencer?"
"Yes."
***
The ten of them were the only people in the bar, sequestered off into small groups around the room. Teal'c and Jackson filled a table with Nate and Sophie, probably making small talk and the like or discussing world events if Cameron knew Jackson at all. Carter and Hardison sat by the window, bickering about something or other and pointing at a computer screen and at one end of the bar Vala and Parker looked entirely too lively. Opposite them and with Spencer sitting quietly, Cameron watched over the pair.
"...Parker's a thief, you said?"
"Aside from completely insane, yeah. Why?"
"Oh, I just see that over there being a bad combination." Vala wasn't exactly the most law-abiding citizen either, it was why they didn't often let her off base without supervision. Her penchant for 'souvenirs' made it a bad idea and Cameron was concerned about the kind of influence someone who made her living stealing things would have on their efforts to steer Vala away from that. "Never mind. You sure I can't convince you to take a more...legally appropriate job?"
"I've been out of that game a little too long," Spencer answered with a shake of his head and something in his voice that Cameron took to mean he would if he thought he could.
"Thought you'd say that. Well. If you, any of you, change your mind on that front, let me know. Obviously there's a lot more going on than I can tell you but I can say that we're always in need of good people and you guys have a pretty good skill set as far as I can tell."
"You really think someone like Parker could work for the government?"
"Why not? Vala does."
That actually got Cameron a laugh, though a quiet one, and it was the first real bit of the Spencer he'd known that he'd seen since arriving in Portland. He knew what the man had been doing wasn't easy, but it was nice to see his friend was still in there somewhere.
"Yeah. I guess she does."
"Speaking of." Cameron paused to finish the last of his beer before standing up. "We should get her out of here before she tries to rob you all blind." Not that he actually thought she would. He cast a glance around to his team. "Come on boys and girls. We've got a plane to catch."
They didn't. The Odyssey was waiting in orbit to beam them up the second they gave the signal, but it was as good a reason as any to get back to saving the galaxy. He paused only to shake Spencer's hand and add one last time: "Make sure you let me know if you change your mind."
"I will," Spencer agreed. And with that Cameron led his people outside and radioed the waiting ship.
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1/Leverage
Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Length: 2001 words
Sitting in the briefing room, the picture of some minor Goa'uld vying for some sort of power projected on the wall and a file in front of him detailing the guy's activities on Earth, Cameron sighed. This sort of thing was happening a little too often since they'd dealt with they'd defeated the Ori. Sam was always quick to point out that these Goa'uld were up to this sort of thing before they'd even fought the Ori, but Cameron was equally quick to argue that it didn't count if they didn't know about it. Which even he knew was ridiculous, but it at least made him feel better about no one noticing what was going on for so long. They were supposed to defend people from things like this, not let the evil alien parasites take over the planet.
"So we're going to Portland to handle this?" Cameron asked, pushing his file away and leaning back in his chair.
"Yes. It won't be easy, though," Sam noted. "We can't just walk in there and kill her."
"I know that. But I think I know someone."
***
"I got us a job."
Nate looked up at him, all confusion and curiosity, and in that annoyingly flat tone he sometimes took echoed: "You got us a job?"
"That's what I said. An old Air Force buddy needs some help and I owe him a favour."
Eliot had actually only known Cameron Mitchell for a few months. They'd been stationed at the same post, even arrived within days of each other, and they probably never would have met at all if not for the fact that one week after arriving in the desert, Eliot and his team were simultaneously nearly killed and completely saved by a round of fire from an F-16 passing overhead. He'd tracked down the pilot later and, after punching the guy in the face -- a stupendously bad move, it turned out; Mitchell was an officer and Eliot only wore stripes -- he bought a round as thanks for saving his guys.
They hadn't spoken in years. Not more than a general delivery post card or the like since Mitchell had pieced together Eliot's career change. But when Mitchell had called him out of the blue and asked for help, Eliot knew it had to be important.
"What's the job?" Nate always wanted details.
"It's classified."
***
"Why the hell are we doing a job for the military? Don't they have people for this sort of thing? And are you somehow not aware that these people could arrest us?"
Cameron could hear the shouting even as his team approached the bar he'd been told to meet his old friend at, and he couldn't help but chuckle. He wasn't completely clueless as to what Spencer had been up to -- the SGC had impressive access to things that had nothing to do with planetary defence -- he just chose to pretend he was and this once, that was coming in handy.
It was a familiar voice, but one he had not heard in years, that answered the shouting as Cameron opened the door to the building.
"They're the Air Force, Hardison, not the police. No one's going to arrest you so just shut up already."
"No! You know what? I'm not going to shut up! Because for another thing? How the hell are we supposed to do a job when it's classified."
So that guy reminded Cameron of McKay, and he exchanged a look with Sam that said exactly that before speaking up. "Actually, only the reason why we need this done is classified."
Everyone looked up, and all but Spencer looked surprised, apparently not noticing they'd come in. Cameron chose to ignore them for a moment, most of them looked pretty grumpy about them anyway and he figured another moment wasn't going to make them any less happy, instead smiling broadly and going to grab his friend's hand and pull the man into a half hug. The kind that was entirely manly and acceptable because it had been a long time.
"Mitchell."
"Spencer. How've you been?"
"Can't complain. Looks like you've gotten pretty important if they're sending you for this sort of thing." And by that, Spencer clearly meant 'doing something not entirely legal with the blessing of the government.'
"I'm regular CIA now," Cameron laughed, and gestured over his shoulder to the rest of his team. "My team. Colonel Samantha Carter, Doctor Daniel Jackson, Vala MalDoran and Teal'c. Guys, this is Eliot Spencer; he thinks he saved my life once or twice."
"I know I saved your life more than once or twice."
"Saved yours more," Cameron pointed out, and laughed again.
***
Mitchell had barely changed in the many years since they'd last seen each other. Not as much as Eliot had, anyway, that was for sure. He still had that bright-eyed eager thing about him, the kind every guy had at the start but no one ever kept, and it made Eliot wonder what kind of job Mitchell had started at recently enough to have that again. He nodded a greeting to Mitchell's team, though, as they were introduced, and gestured to the four gathered by the bar and looking more put out than ever by the job.
"My crew. Parker, Hardison, Sophie, Nate."
Sophie and Nate, at least, were socially adept enough to be polite and say hello, sit everyone down so they could talk about the job. Mitchell and his team would stay out of it, everyone agreed, as much as possible; this wasn't their sort of work and they'd just get in the way. But they'd be there if an extra face was needed. All Eliot and the others had to do was get some woman, head of some company that Eliot knew the military couldn't ever really be interested in, to leave her position and get her alone to a warehouse where Mitchell's people would be waiting. Easy enough.
Hardison gave the presentation, from a laptop rather than on the wall, and it was pretty much exactly the same as usual, but when it was finished Hardison shrugged. "Aside from apparently not existing before five years ago, she looks like just your average CEO right down to the usual dirty laundry."
Mitchell made an impressed noise and turned to Carter.
"Why doesn't this guy work for us?"
"This pays better," Hardison quipped before the woman could answer.
***
Cameron and the rest of his team spent the next week just sitting back and waiting. They got daily progress reports from their not so law-abiding associates, and it seemed like things were going well. With some well-placed intel from Jackson, it looked like they'd finish the job sooner rather than later. And attesting to the skills of the team they'd hired, before the week was out the call came. The one announcing the Goa'uld Pakhet was on her way and they should be ready for her.
Sophie, hair covered with a pale scarf and speaking with an accent Jackson assured was regionally appropriate to Egypt, walked her in; the host a tall, dark woman in a power suit that was probably already sorely missed by any family she had. They took her out with zats and restrained her, Cameron cleared their helpers from the building so she could be beamed to the Odyssey and later taken to the Tok'ra for extraction.
He never really understood exactly what it was these people had done, or how they had done it, just that it involved a lot of smooth talking, some clever breaking and entering, and more than a little computer hacking, but standing there leaning against the warehouse beside Spencer felt like old times and Cameron didn't much care what they'd done.
***
"They have transporters!" Hardison's voice rang in Eliot's ear. "How the hell does the Air Force have transporters?"
They'd wired the warehouse, video and sound, before they'd even started the job, everyone dying to know exactly what was going on with the Air Force wanting some businesswoman. Eliot didn't even bother protesting, wanting to know what exactly Mitchell was up to and knowing that asking straight out would get him no answers. Not Mitchell's fault or anything, that was just how military guys were -- and he knew that from experience -- and Eliot wanted to know more than he wanted to care about things like 'classified'.
Mitchell didn't seem to notice when Eliot's eyebrows raised in surprise and he took out his earpiece to cut off Hardison's ranting about transporters and how impossible it was that anyone had transporters without him knowing about it. Not to mention energy weapons and whatever else.
Eliot could not have cared less about what the Air Force had or didn't have. Though the idea of transporters did sound pretty cool.
Instead of listening to the rants, Eliot looked over to Mitchell, leaning against the warehouse beside him and chattering inanely about something or other. Talking without actually saying anything, like he always had.
"Buy you a drink?" Eliot interrupted, and Mitchell laughed.
"Am I boring you, Spencer?"
"Yes."
***
The ten of them were the only people in the bar, sequestered off into small groups around the room. Teal'c and Jackson filled a table with Nate and Sophie, probably making small talk and the like or discussing world events if Cameron knew Jackson at all. Carter and Hardison sat by the window, bickering about something or other and pointing at a computer screen and at one end of the bar Vala and Parker looked entirely too lively. Opposite them and with Spencer sitting quietly, Cameron watched over the pair.
"...Parker's a thief, you said?"
"Aside from completely insane, yeah. Why?"
"Oh, I just see that over there being a bad combination." Vala wasn't exactly the most law-abiding citizen either, it was why they didn't often let her off base without supervision. Her penchant for 'souvenirs' made it a bad idea and Cameron was concerned about the kind of influence someone who made her living stealing things would have on their efforts to steer Vala away from that. "Never mind. You sure I can't convince you to take a more...legally appropriate job?"
"I've been out of that game a little too long," Spencer answered with a shake of his head and something in his voice that Cameron took to mean he would if he thought he could.
"Thought you'd say that. Well. If you, any of you, change your mind on that front, let me know. Obviously there's a lot more going on than I can tell you but I can say that we're always in need of good people and you guys have a pretty good skill set as far as I can tell."
"You really think someone like Parker could work for the government?"
"Why not? Vala does."
That actually got Cameron a laugh, though a quiet one, and it was the first real bit of the Spencer he'd known that he'd seen since arriving in Portland. He knew what the man had been doing wasn't easy, but it was nice to see his friend was still in there somewhere.
"Yeah. I guess she does."
"Speaking of." Cameron paused to finish the last of his beer before standing up. "We should get her out of here before she tries to rob you all blind." Not that he actually thought she would. He cast a glance around to his team. "Come on boys and girls. We've got a plane to catch."
They didn't. The Odyssey was waiting in orbit to beam them up the second they gave the signal, but it was as good a reason as any to get back to saving the galaxy. He paused only to shake Spencer's hand and add one last time: "Make sure you let me know if you change your mind."
"I will," Spencer agreed. And with that Cameron led his people outside and radioed the waiting ship.