I Have Quite a Bit of This... So... Maybe... Maybe That's Okay...
Never a Small Favor
Word Count: 2,511
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nico/Dani (eventually); Dani/Matt (doesn't last); Mike/Fi
Spoilers: up to 1x12 of Necessary Roughness and up to... uh, 4x01 of Burn Notice, I think.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I just break things.
Summary: Even with old friends, favors are never small and always have a price.
Author's Note: I wasn't the first one to come up with the idea of crossing over Burn Notice and Necessary Roughness. That was the evil twin. Hers was intriguing. I was jealous because I wanted to do a crossover. I don't like to repeat what's already been done, so I wasn't going to do one. Then the finale happened. I had this thought that basically became the first scene. And it went from there.
Old Friends
"I'm telling you, we need another man on this," Sam insisted, and Micheal looked at him. He'd already heard this argument, and he wasn't looking forward to going over it again. It was old, and he didn't really disagree. The problem was finding the right person to trust, someone who would do what they were told and not improvise. Someone who could get to their target and get what they wanted without compromising the whole operation. The only other person Micheal knew-the only one that would work with him while he was burned-was his brother. Nate was completely wrong for this. He also didn't feel like getting his brother killed. "You know it. I know it. Fiona knows it. Look, this guy knows all our faces. We gotta bring someone in."
"I know, Sam. Just tell me who you want to bring in."
Sam grinned. That was usually not a good sign. "Trust me, Mike, this is a great guy. You're gonna love him. I mean, the guy is-well, he's one of the best I've ever worked with, and that says a lot. He's a SEAL, like me-"
"Sam-"
"I already called him, and he's on his way," Sam said, and Micheal gave him a look. They were not done discussing this. He didn't like not knowing who was on his team, and Sam's friends had a way of creating problems. Like repossessing a drug boat full of money, for example. Needing help recovering stolen drugs. Putting Micheal's mother in danger. Repeatedly. "This guy is not like Virgil. He's not going to hit on your mom. Last I knew he was hung up on this woman-kind of a prize bitch, in my opinion, but-"
"Sam," Micheal interrupted quickly, trying to get the other man to the point already. He didn't have time for this. They needed to set something in motion. Now. Yesterday would have been better. Hayes was going to slip through their fingers, and even if Micheal didn't trust Sam's guy, he was already on the way, wasn't he? They didn't need any extra hassles. "Is the woman going to be a problem?"
"Shouldn't be."
Good, Micheal thought. The last thing they needed was some woman complicating this. A woman other than Fiona, that was. She was complication enough for any job. "Then I don't need to know about her. Just tell me where and when you expect to meet this guy."
"Right now, I assume."
Micheal looked over at the newcomer. It wasn't often that anyone could sneak up on him, though he did remember a stronger than usual discomfort in being out in the open. He had felt the need to rush Sam through this conversation, to leave the area. That hadn't just been his usual frustration or paranoia. Someone had been there. Dark hair, dark coat despite the weather-this guy projected an image, and it was not subtle. The whole thing screamed back off. "You're Sam's friend?"
The man's eyes flicked toward Micheal for a moment and then focused on Sam, taking in the bright Hawaiian shirt and white pants. His lips curved into a slight smile. "I don't have friends."
"Oh, come on-" Sam began, and Micheal was tempted to smile. It was the outfit the other man seemed to object to, and most of the time, Micheal felt the same way. Sam liked his clothes loud, and only in Miami could he get away with that.
The newcomer folded his arms over his chest. "You said you had something for me. This had better be good. I did not get on a plane and come all the way down to Miami for you to waste my time."
"Geez, you seen Gabby lately?" Sam asked, pointing a finger at his friend. This was why spies didn't have friends. The new guy had an edge to him. He was not just an ex-SEAL, was he? "Because you're acting like you saw Gabby recently. Like, so recently that it still smarts."
"Information, Sam."
Micheal knew that tone. He could hear himself saying those words, just like that, a lot, especially when it came to Sam. He was starting to think that working with this man would not only be useful; it would be entertaining as well.
Sam nodded. "I still got a few connections, and there are a few rumors going around. Well, I took some rumors, got some facts, and I can prove that your boy's shooting was no random fan in a bar. That guy doesn't even like Chicago."
The man in the dark coat nodded. "And what exactly is this going to cost?"
Sam started to hedge. "Well, as much as I'd like to ask for money-"
"-Money I have access to-"
"-I still can't get over the fact that you're working for an ass like Pittman," Sam shook his head, disgusted. "I know he saved your life once, Nico, but come on..."
"You are in no place to judge. You associate with burned spies and former terrorists," the other man said, looking over at Micheal before looking back at Sam. Interesting. This guy knew his stuff-or Sam had been talking too much.
"Geez, point taken. You have seen Gabby lately. You're not usually in this bad of a mood."
"Sam," Nico was reaching the end of his patience. It wasn't hard to do with Sam, but Micheal was starting to think there was something else going on with this guy. Maybe they should cut their losses now. No sense in getting anyone killed if the guy couldn't focus. "The information. What will it cost?"
"Oh, right," Sam grinned as he got back on topic. He had been looking forward to making this pitch. "Like I was saying, I'd like to ask for money, and I know you got it. Well, not you necessarily, but hell, I'd enjoy taking it from Pittman because I can't stand that man, but what I-we-really need is... you."
"Me?"
"You. Exactly as is. Have I told you how much that look works for you? No? It does," Sam began, nodding appreciatively despite the glare he was getting. "See, Mike and me-and Fiona, I guess-we got this job. It's a delicate thing, and the guy's really cagey. We gotta nail this guy, Nico. He's bad news. Drugs. Prostitution. Pornography. Not the good kind, but the really sick stuff. Problem is, he knows everyone we got in play. We just need someone to be... well, you, and we're set. The great thing-and I think that this is pretty damn cool-is that you don't have to be anyone other than yourself. Your reputation will do half the talking, and Pittman's money will do the rest."
Nico shook his head. "I am not prepared to mortgage my reputation on one of your schemes. You haven't told me anything I didn't already know, and while I am not... unsympathetic to your cause, I have a situation to handle at home."
He turned to leave, and Micheal looked over at Sam. "I like him."
Sam made a face. "You would."
Nico stopped as his phone rang. He took it out, frowned at it, and answered it. "Dr. Santino? No, I had not heard. Thank you for keeping me informed. I am sure that part will handle itself. No, I think I'd better continue the angle I have been looking into, thank you."
He hung up and looked back at Sam coldly. Suspiciously. "I suppose you knew about that, too?"
"Uh... not sure what you mean, Nico, but I swear, you help us, and we'll help you," Sam promised. Mike gave him a look. Sam, as usual, ignored it. "Someone is gunning for your team, and I think I can tell you who it is, but... I need this small favor first."
"With you, Sam, it is never a small favor."
Micheal grinned. Oh, yeah, he liked this guy.
"Okay, so here's the plan-"
"Can I ask one of your associates to explain it? I would like to expedite this process as much as possible," Nico interrupted before Sam could get started. The man loved to talk. He loved the sound of his own voice. If Nico hadn't already been convinced that the attack on Terrence King was no random shooting over a playoff game, he never would have taken Sam's call. Santino's news had pushed him over the edge, and he did not want to see anyone else being injured in what might very well be a twisted acceleration of the Pittman divorce war. This needed to end sooner rather than later. He needed this over with so he could get the information and resolve the situation in New York. If it hadn't been Sam, the deal would have been completely different. Nico didn't jump through hoops for anyone, and he didn't appreciate the delay. He had other ways of getting the information, of finding Sam's source if this fell through, and he would use it if necessary.
"Sam's idea was to have you meet with the guy that we need to bait," Westen began. He seemed to be the leader and the planner of the group, so he should have been the one to explain in the first place. "Do you think you can make him believe your employer is interested in... expansion, as it were?"
"People believe Marshall Pittman capable of anything," Nico answered, looking toward Sam. The other man didn't comment, which was unusual. He had an opinion about everything, especially about the Pittmans. "Which industry are you suggesting he expand into? Perhaps the drugs since he has access to transportation companies? Or would you think that with his media empire he'd want the pornography? You know... It's been rumored that Pittman has his hand in those things anyway."
"Exactly!" Sam finally snapped. He'd lasted longer than Nico expected. Maybe Westen was a good influence on him. A restraining one. "Which is why I don't know how you can work for that bastard, even if he did save your life. This isn't about Gabby, is it?"
Nico was starting to think it was time to go to his alternative source. It had to be easier than dealing with Axe. That was the trouble with old associates. They had a habit of knowing too much. "I swear, Sam, if you mention that name again-"
"Easy, easy," Westen broke in. Nico had a feeling he ended up playing peacemaker a lot. "We just need someone who can make it seem like a legitimate business is willing to front this guy's not-so-legitimate ones. You say Pittman has enough moral flexibility-"
"More like mental instability," Sam muttered, and Westen shot him a look. The man must spend a good portion of his time trying to keep Sam under control.
"Either one you choose, it's not unbelievable that he would be available, and his current circumstances would make the idea all the more appealing-and all the more dangerous," Nico began, thinking that the divorce could go either way for helping push the issue and making it convincing-or less believable. He'd have to play that card carefully, hold it in reserve if possible. "His wife has hired one of the top divorce lawyers in the country, and he will be looking into all of Pittman's assets and indiscretions."
"How's that working out for you, Nico?"
That was it. Nico reached for Sam's wrist and pulled it tight, twisting it around his back as he pulled the gun from the man's waistband with his other hand. "You've gotten sloppy in addition to fat, Axe. Do you really think you want to push my buttons right now?"
"Guys," Westen began, and Nico tossed the gun to him as he let Sam go. Sam started to straighten himself up, glaring at him across the table.
"This is so much fun," the woman commented, taking a sip of her drink. She really enjoyed the show. "Watching you boys... bond. Such a special moment. Thank you for including me."
Westen looked at her. She smiled back at him. Nico shook his head. He should never have taken the phone call in the first place. He knew better. Even when they'd worked together, Axe was nothing but trouble. Sam looked at him. "I never knew you were so touchy, Careles."
"I warned you not to go there," Nico reminded him coldly. He knew it was far too easy to provoke him these days. Sam had been aware of Nico's feelings for Gabriella for years, and he'd warned Nico to stay away from her, told him everything that he knew now. As much as she thought she loved him, she never had. Her manipulation-using Juliette's paternity as way to hold on to him all this time-he could never forgive her for that.
And it did hurt.
Nico was fairly close to punching Axe in the face just for being right. Perhaps later.
Sam reached for his beer, trying to salvage some of his dignity. "At least we know you haven't lost any of your skills."
Nico gave Axe a slight smile, and Westen shook his head. Glenanne laughed, almost spilling her drink as she did. "Oh, this is just not fair. I should call Maddie. I need another woman to talk to about this boys' club you've got going on."
"Fi, leave my mother out of this," Westen began. Nico knew a losing battle when he saw it, and he shook his head as he moved away, checking the messages on his phone. Sam went for another beer bottle and emptied it quickly. Though Nico knew from experience that Axe could handle almost anything when he'd been drinking, this was not a position that he wanted to be in. Sam was a liability. This was a mistake. Walking away now was the best option, and he knew it. He should leave.
Nico's phone rang, and he frowned as he reluctantly answered it. He was going to have to stop taking calls once this really got going, but for now he needed the connection back to New York, needed to stay informed. "What?"
"Nico, where are you?"
"Is that Pittman? I want to give him a piece of my mind," Sam said, jumping up and trying to take the phone from Nico. "Listen to me, you rotten, no good, selfish, arrogant rich bastard, you can go to hell. You twist around a man's life and loyalty, and you let your wife-"
Nico elbowed him, hard, in the stomach and pried the phone away from him, twisting his arm again until Westen and Glenanne pulled Sam off and forced him back across the room. Nico returned the phone to his ear. "You have my apologies, Dr. Santino. That man was under the impression I was talking to someone else."
"Marshall Pittman, maybe?"
He ignored her question. "Is there something you need?"
"Where are you? That sounds like... a beach," she began. He could almost hear her shaking her head on the other end of the line. "Never mind. That's not-oh, hell, Nico, did Pittman really fire you?"
Chapter Two