Retrouvailles françaises

Disclaimer: Neither Ocean's 11, 12 nor 13 belong to me.

Rating: PG-13 / T

Warning: slash

Pairing: Rusty/Terry

Summary: Rusty Ryan is lying low in France when he encounters Terry Benedict and this time their encounter may just turn hotter than the last ones.

Author's notes: Retrouvailles françaises: French reunion.

I'd like to thank my beta Megan (webbswoman) for her corrections, suggestions and encouragement. She was a great help to me and without her this story would only be half as good.

Part 1

Rusty loved the Côte d'Azur. The Southern French region was blessed with sun, warmth and beautiful beaches, all things that Rusty appreciated whenever it was too hot for him in the States and he thought it better to go away for a little while. He also appreciated the sheer amount of money which went through there, carried by movie stars as well as successful business men who kept either houses or yachts (or even both) there. There they spent their money not only on clothing and jewelry, but also in the Casinos between Saint-Tropez, where some of the villas and yachts were, and Monaco, where the most famous casino was situated and everybody came for shopping and to show off their car.

Even though Rusty had made so much money, especially on the last heist, that he would probably never have to pull another one again in his whole life and he himself could show off his clothes and car, his fingers still itched whenever he saw all of the cash being thrown around.

Four weeks after his arrival, Rusty was sitting on the patio of a café in Monte Carlo, enjoying a large cup of hot chocolate and a croissant. Rusty's table was in a corner created by the wall of the restaurant and the hedge; he had a great view of the back door of the café towards the patio without being seen immediately and this suited him.

Everyone who passed the door was assessed by him for style and actual wealth by the way they walked, talked and ate. A blonde woman had come in just a few minutes before who, at first glance anyway, wore fashionable clothes and sunglasses. But someone who looked a little closer, and Rusty was used to taking a very close look, noticed immediately that the dress she was wearing was actually a copy of what the current starlets were wearing, produced by a large off-the-rack company. The sunglasses were also far from being designer label. Rusty dismissed her. Obviously she was in desperate need of attention.

Bored, he continued eating his croissant and observing the clientele. The next customer stepped onto the patio. The man faced away from him, so Rusty could only see the black suit that covered the form, an unfortunate color in Rusty's opinion as the black heated up much more easily than light colors did. The man's jet black hair was cut off just about an inch above his white shirt collar which showed over the suit. A waitress was trying to follow the man as he quickly made his way to a table in the corner almost diagonally across from Rusty's.

The man turned and Rusty promptly pulled the sunglasses over his eyes as he recognized Terry Benedict.

He was surprised to see the casino tycoon in France. Usually Benedict didn't trust anyone else to lead his businesses and so rarely left the country.

He hunched down in his seat and lowered his head to avoid Benedict's gaze, which he knew would be sweeping the patio, but at the same time he tried to keep an eye on him. If he attempted to change his seat now and turn his back to the room it would catch the other man's attention most certainly. So he tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, something that any thief and pickpocket had to excel at, and finished his chocolate and the croissant as quickly as possible without rushing them. Then he called the waiter and asked for the check. The waiter had just turned around and taken a step when he was intercepted by Terry Benedict.

"Oh no, please, that is not necessary. I think he is going to stay for a while," he said in flawless French.

The waiter turned back to Rusty.

"Bring it anyway," the blonde instructed, also in French.

"Rusty Ryan. What a surprise," Benedict smiled pleasantly and took a seat across from Rusty. "Where's Ocean?" His gaze was trained intensely on the other man.

Rusty chuckled and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"My guess is in the States."

"So, no genius plans to try and ruin me financially?"

"Nope." he shook his head. "Actually I'm here to relax."

"Right. What is it? A gallery? A bank? Another casino? Humor me."

"Still no. Like I said, I'm here on vacation. The States got a little hot, if you know what I mean."

Benedict's eyebrow twitched, his lips pursed a tiny bit and finally he nodded.

"Your presence here surprised me quite a lot as well. I thought you didn't leave your casinos in foreign hands." Rusty stated.

"My managers are capable men."

"Yeah, I'm sure they are. But you're a control freak."

Benedict didn't answer right away but finally he said: "I've heard that some of the casinos and hotels here are quite lucrative."

"Ah. You're thinking of buying yourself into Europe."

"Maybe." Benedict shrugged.

Rusty stuck his tongue out between his teeth and gave first his bottom and then his upper lip a small lick. He had learned that gestures like this one were distracting to people and he used them occasionally to unsettle his counterpart. A time or two he had even seen Danny look. But Benedict didn't even blink an eye. Rusty was almost disappointed at his lack of reaction. Maybe he should try something different?

But just then the waiter arrived at the table and handed the check to Rusty who paid. Benedict observed but didn't interrupt again.

"Is there anything else?" Rusty asked.

Slowly Benedict shook his head. "No."

"Well then: have a nice day." He stood up.

"Perhaps we will see each other again."

"Perhaps." Rusty responded and left, feeling the other man following him with his eyes.

Continued in Part 2