Natural Born Hustler

A/N: I've mentioned it in the author's notes of a few of my other chapters/stories, and I didn't think I should start writing it because of my limited time, but I seriously could not let this idea go. Also, 0ldLace was kind enough to encourage me to do so (shout out ^^). Anyway, a bit about the story: it was originally titled Chinatown because oh, Lord… reasons. Briefly, it's an AU in which Veronica is a professional thief and con artist but some residents of Neptune have more experience getting their hands dirty.

Chapter 1

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Veronica picked herself up off the quickly heating floor with a pained groan. She pushed her hair out of her face and felt the stickiness matting it. She hoped it was just sweat.

Suddenly, she realized he hadn't said anything yet, hadn't told her what to do. She got out from under him and shook him. He wasn't moving, barely breathing, and that was bad.

Bad, bad, bad. This was so very bad.

She had checked, double checked, and triple checked her calculations just like he taught her. But, she still fucked up.

She crawled alongside the wall slowly with the weight of him, inching towards their getaway point. The clarion call of the fire alarm as well as sirens filled her head while the smoky air filled her lungs with poison.

Finally finding the right door, she fell to her knees when it opened, dropping him as she went.

"Sorry, Dad. We're almost there," she whispered more for herself than her unconscious father.

The air was markedly cleaner but not unaffected. She crossed the room quickly, throwing the window open. She was three floors up, but she was confident in her training. Though, with a passed out passenger as dead weight, she was less confident.

Stumbling back to him, she put his arms over her and grabbed his middle, pulling him towards their exit.

Fluidly, she slipped out the window and tried to scale her way down the wall, but she lost her balance almost immediately. Their size disparity was too much for her, and she was too tired. They fell down the remaining twenty or so feet with a wet squelch onto the dewy grass.

There was new pain blooming from her right side, and she felt along her ribs, trying to stop her dry heaving. They were almost there. She could see their hidden car in the distance and ran for it.

She sprinted as fast as she could, thinking back to the days when she sprinted for the thrill of scoring goals and not for their lives.

She slammed on the gas pedal as soon as it started, swerving to avoid one too many decorative trees on a no longer immaculate landscape. She didn't wait for the car to stop and threw herself out, gathering her father in her arms and carrying him as gently and as hastily as she could into the back seat.

Everything burned, but she felt nothing because everything she was supposed to feel or think had fallen in the face of the one thing she now had to do.

Save her father.

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She called Cliff, not knowing who else to go to.

When she was a child, she'd known Cliff to be a lawyer with questionable views but loved him almost as much as she did her father. Her birth giver left them when she was young, and Cliff stepped in to help her clueless father raise her.

At thirteen, she got caught shoplifting, not by the cops, but by her father. She impishly told him she had done it just to see if she could—she explained to him that she often did because she was restless—, and he decided that it was finally time to introduce her to what was apparently the family trade.

Most importantly, he sat her down with Cliff and explained what they used to do. Who they used to be.

From there, she learned that Cliff was not her father's secret lover, much to Cliff's intense amusement, but he was his former partner in the sense that they used to hustle together. But, they had both decided to give it up soon after her birth giver found herself pregnant, figuring the risk was much too high at that point. Cliff eventually became a lawyer, and her father became a home security consultant.

Hearing the click that signified he had picked up the phone, she couldn't keep the tremble out of her voice. Quietly, she asked, "Cliff?"

"Something's happened."

"It's Dad," she said, breaking down. "He won't wake up. I don't know what to do."

She heard Cliff swear loudly and clenched the steering wheel until her fingers turned white.

"Are you driving?"

"Yeah," she whispered hoarsely, willing herself not to cry. She needed to keep calm if she wanted to help her father.

"Pull over when it's safe."

"Okay." The car screeched to a halt, and her muscles tensed. "Now what?"

"Where are you?"

"Neptune. It's close to San Diego. I'm on the PCH past Twin Dolphin Road."

"Of course you are." He swore again under his breath.

"What?"

"Is he bleeding?"

She climbed into the back, running her hand over him carefully and quickly while still clutching her phone like a lifeline in her other. "The back of his head," she reported, biting her lip.

"Grab something to stop it. I'm over three hours away, so I'm going to have someone meet you there. He goes by Vinnie and knows who you are, so if anyone has to ask for your name, leave your father and run away immediately—"

"I can't do that!" She said reflexively She was shocked he even suggested it.

"Veronica, you need to understand you're not safe where you are. That town... It's just not safe."

Hysterically, she asked, "Why? What's going on?"

"Keith told me that if something like this happened," he continued, ignoring her questions. "I'm supposed to make sure that you are safe. No matter what. And, I know it goes against our family motto, but you can trust Vinnie. He used to be one of our men from back in the day. He'll take care of Keith and then take both of you to a private hospital. I'll meet you there. Do not leave his sight."

"Fine," she said frantically, blindly obeying. She pulled off her shirt and lifted him up to rest against her. She pressed her shirt against his head, kissing his cheek and praying that things would be okay again.

"You need to lose that car, so just switch to his. I'll have someone else take care of the car later."

"Okay. Thanks, Cliff," she sobbed.

"Okay. He'll be there in ten. Are you going to be okay, sweetie?"

"Mhmm," she hummed. "Can you stay on the phone?"

"Never considered anything else, V."

Through wet tears, she prayed. As promised, Cliff never hung up on her, and she had the rare opportunity of hearing Cliff in serious mode. He was commanding and took charge, and Veronica remembered that he and her father only acted goofily for her benefit. This was a man who was in control and had power, and everyone knew it.

She gasped when the door opened, and someone leaned in.

"Baby V," the figure said. "Haven't seen you since you were a peanut. Sorry it had to be like this. Can you bring your dad to my car? You both can stay in the backseat, and I'll take us to the hospital. Where are your keys? Leave them in the car."

With clammy hands, she tossed them into the backseat as clambered out, not letting go of her father. Vinnie tried to help her, but she pulled them both away. Cliff told her to trust him, and she would, but only so much as she needed to.

As Vinnie drove, she manically hummed the lullaby songs of her childhood—the ones her father sang to her—through tight lips and throaty whines, rocking him in her arms.

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Despite being in a private room, they spoke in hushed whispers by his side.

Veronica tightly gripped her father's hand as he lay motionless on the hospital bed. She was wearing Vinnie's too large shirt, who had also taken the liberty of concocting a cover story for the both of them. She was to tell everyone that they had flipped their car off the side of the road and that she remembered nothing more.

In their line of profession, it was better not to have too many people ask questions they shouldn't know the answers to, which is why Vinnie told her to keep their real names to themselves as well, telling her to cry whenever someone asked a question until Cliff could come with fake identification and insurance papers.

When Cliff did come to find her already standing in a vigil by Keith's bed, he immediately demanded she get herself checked out, knowing she was too stubborn to take care of herself otherwise. She came back almost immediately with bandages wrapped around her torso, injuries cleaned and bandaged, and with the resolve to make that the only time she left her father alone.

They said there was trauma to the back of her head, as if she didn't already know. There were second degree burns across his shoulders. A broken rib to match her bruised one. Shrapnel was found embedded into his back and limbs as well. He'd be in a coma until further notice. They asked her again how she and her father had gotten themselves into that condition, but she volunteered no truths.

Two weeks later, when Veronica tried to use Keith's account to pay off some of the immediate hospital bills, she found that his savings had been completely drained. And, her private account barely had enough in it to pay for his first physical evaluation. There was no way she could afford everything else he needed, especially not the private room.

She heard Cliff enter, knowing that it was his way of being polite. Though he hadn't reentered the profession like Keith did after finding his calling as a legal charlatan, Cliff was still skilled and could have entered undetected should he choose to do so. Veronica knew it was for her benefit and wiped her tears.

Finding her voice, she asked, "Did you find out where the money went?"

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Cliff barely concealed his anger.

"No," he lied, coming to her side and bringing her into a hug before checking on Keith, who was still unconscious. "I'm sorry, V. It's gone, but I'll take care of the everything. And until your father gets better, you can come live with me. You won't have to worry about a thing."

"No, Cliff. I can't," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"You have to."

"But—"

"I hate to break it to you, kid, but there's really no other way," he said admonishingly.

She bit her lip and replied, "I can do the rest of the jobs we had lined up."

"No. You're not old enough."

"You two started when you were fifteen!"

"Because we had to! We were desperate and didn't have anyone to help us. You have me. Just let me help."

"I can't," she repeated.

"Well, I can't either."

"You can't stop me."

"I can and will. You're vastly underestimating the amount of time I am willing to devote to keeping you safe, Veronica."

"Then you can pick the job! Just let me do this myself."

"Any job that's fit for a normal seventeen year old won't be enough. Veronica—"

Adamantly, she refused, "No, Cliff. He's my father… I've relied on you too much. You said you never wanted to get involved in the business again, and I've made you do that so many times already. If you get investigated, if they find out what we were up to, what we've been up to, and find out you've helped us, you'd get in trouble, too. You'd lose your license, go to jail, I don't even know what else."

"If they get me, then they get me. I deserve it, but I'm going to do what I can until then."

"… Or, I have this idea, Cliff. Just hear me out," she begged, getting finally from the chair that had been her bed and everything else since Keith was admitted. Facing him, she admitted, "I found Lianne's old diaries a few years ago. I was in the attic and found a bunch of her stuff. I was going to burn everything, but I wanted to know more about the woman who left Dad."

Cliff's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he might have expected it from Keith. He was cunning and intelligent in so many ways, but he was a fool as well when it came to that woman.

Not wanting to give anything away, Cliff asked, "What did you find?"

He watched as she swallowed thickly, as if she were going to deliver bad news. It was bad news, to be sure, but Cliff heard it years ago.

"Around the time Lianne was pregnant with me, she was having an affair with a man named Jake Kane. I looked him up, Cliff. If it's the Jake Kane I think he is, then he's rich. Filthy rich. We can extort money from him, and I won't even be in any danger!"

"You think someone as rich as you say he is won't want to keep his skeletons deep in the back of the closet? That he won't do whatever it takes to keep them there?"

She faltered at his questions.

"No," he said firmly.

Her jaw dropped. "You don't know he'd do it. There's a huge payout, Cliff. He's like a billionaire!"

With his hand over his mouth, Cliff warned her, "He'd ask for a blood test to prove it."

"You got me and my dad fake IDs in less than the time it takes to make a sandwich. Can't you just forge the results, too? I've seen Dad do it, once, to stop them from hitting their kids. I can do this, Cliff."

"Veronica, think about what you're asking me to do. Your father wanted me to keep you out of trouble."

"You said you'd help me."

"It'd be easier to just give you my money!"

"But, this is like free money. It'll be cake. Easier than cake. Cupcake," she insisted.

"It's going to be messy."

"I'll be careful. It'll take two seconds, right? I send him a letter, maybe talk to him once or twice. We do a blood test, you fix it, and I can pay for Dad's bills."

He wanted Veronica to stay away from Jake Kane as much as possible, but he had to admit that he didn't know how long Keith was going to stay in a coma. He had saved up a fairly sizable sum, but there was a reason he was still working, and it wasn't just because he loved it. It sounded simple enough. He knew that Jake knew.

It would be simple, he thought, wishing he'd believe it more.

He ignored the gnawing sense of dread in his stomach. Keith would kill him, but not before he killed Keith first. He didn't know what he was thinking going back to Neptune. And, look where they were now. That town was trouble, and they were lucky to escape it. He had no idea why Keith would want to go back. He had little reason to be there. He should've had no reason to be there.

Not only that, he had brought Veronica along, too.

"Two seconds, Veronica."

"Yes!" She cheered, reaching over to hug him again.

He'd regret this immediately, he knew.

Things were never simple in Neptune.

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When visiting hours were over and he made sure she ate dinner, Cliff made his way to his car quickly. Slamming the door shut, Cliff dialed Vinnie.

Without preamble, he asked, "Did you find her?"

"Hello to you, too, Mr. Grouchy pants."

"Grow up, Vinnie."

"I will when you admit you miss the hustle."

"I do a different kind of hustling now."

"I heard."

"The info, Vinnie," he prompted.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. You want me to fax it over to the usual place?"

"No. No trail. Just tell me here."

"Alright. It was pretty hard to find her, you know. New name. Almost new face. But, I got her. Same greedy bitch and general bitch attitude," he said. "Normally, I'd charge you extra because of all the heavy lifting I had to do, but let's say it's for old time's sake."

"The address?"

"Sheesh. I guess you're only a cuddly teddy bear with the kid. It's 310 Gelsen Drive, Manhattan. Can't miss it. It's the tall building next to the other tall buildings. She lives on the seventh floor, apartment 201."

"Thank you."

"No problem. Just one question."

Impatiently, he asked, "What?"

"She's already got shit tons of money from her last divorce. Why would she bother with Keith's money now?"

"I don't know, Vinnie. She's a bitch? Right now, it doesn't matter to me. Does it matter to you?"

"No, guess not," he said, shrugging even though Cliff couldn't see him. "But, everyone's got a reason for doing things, and I Just can't resist the sordid details, you know?"

"No, and that's why I left."

Vinnie chucked into his phone. "Cliffie, you don't ever really leave. Not this place. It's inside you. It's inside the kid, too. Now there's a girl who's got the right nature and nurture all wrapped up in a cute bow. It's perfect."

"I highly doubt it, but we'll have to see," he sighed.

"What? Wait—"

"Talk later, Vinnie. Thanks again."

"Hey, wait, no—"

Cliff hung up, heading back to his office, but he couldn't focus on any of his cases, so he spent the rest of the night drinking and reminiscing about their time in Neptune, needing more and more liquor to systematically forget each one.

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Despite Cliff's protests, Veronica personally delivered the blackmail letter to Jake Kane's desk. It was easy to not listen to Cliff when he was slurring his words.

That same day, she received a call to her disposable cell phone from the man himself.

Sweetly, she answered with a sniff, "Hello?"

"Veronica!" He had exclaimed.

The tender emotion in his voice surprised her; she had been expecting anger and threats. Composing herself again, she asked, "Mr. Kane?"

"Yes, Veronica, honey," he said. "Where are you? Who are you staying with? Are you safe?"

His concern kept flooring her, and she had a hard time sticking to her resolve. He seemed like he'd be a genuinely nice father, but she had her real father to think of who was laying in a hospital room that she had to find a way to pay for.

"I'm fine. I'm staying by myself… until they kick me out," she replied, giving another exaggerated sniff.

In her letter, she had written that the man she had known to be her father had recently died, and in his will, he had revealed that she wasn't his biological daughter. He also told her how to find a man named Jake Kane, who was supposed to be her real father, and to ask him for help if anything happened to him, and she couldn't take care of herself.

"No! No, you tell them that it'll be handled. I'll pay for everything, Veronica… darling. Just, tell me where you are."

"Thank you, Mr. Kane!" He was throwing her off with his agreeable attitude. But, that could've been his plan, and she kept her guard up. Feigning innocence, she told him, "My dad's lawyer said you might want a blood test as proof? We can do that if you don't believe me. I have my mother's—" She closed her eyes in pain and breathed deeply. "—diary, too. Dad left it for me in case you didn't believe me. I don't want you to think I'm lying to you, Mr. Kane."

"Please, Veronica… Can you call me Dad?" He almost sounded as pained as she was. "We can sort everything out later. I need to make sure you're safe first."

Veronica's throat burned from the bile that threatened to come up. "I don't think—I'm not sure I can do that…," she eventually stammered.

"Will you try, though?"

"I… I can't."

She was ready to hang up and just forget that she had even attempted to con someone without her father's help. She apparently didn't have it in her to completely separate her emotions from the job. He was asking for something she couldn't give. She only had one father, one wonderful father… who never asked for anything from her. And yet, she couldn't do this for him. She clenched her teeth, tasting salt.

Jake sighed through the phone, and her finger hovered over the end call button.

"I'm sorry. Was it too soon?"

She dropped her phone, not quite believing that she heard him correctly. "Yes," she breathed out in relief, reaching for her phone and trying not to sound so eager. "Too soon… But, maybe…," she offered, knowing it wasn't really possible.

"Maybe," he agreed hopefully. "Now, can you tell me where you are? I'd like to meet you immediately."

That wasn't part of her plan. Not really. She wasn't fully sure the plan would even work. Panicking, Veronica told him haltingly, "I appreciate the help, Mr. Kane. But, I think it's better if we never meet, don't you? I'm sure you have a family. They'd hate me if they found out. And, I won't ask for your help after this, either. I promise."

"I can give you more money," he stated without hesitation. "I can set up a trust fund for you. You won't have to worry about paying for college or supporting yourself if you don't want to."

Veronica breathed in sharply. She wanted to just ask exactly how much he was offering her, but there was always the possibility it was a trap. "I don't want any more than I need, Mr. Kane. Enough to pay for my father's hospital bills, his funeral, and enough to last me until I turn eighteen. That's it."

"Eighteen," he repeated, and it made her pause.

"Yes," she rifled through the papers in front of her. According to the identity Cliff made up, her birthday was sometime at the beginning of December. "It's next December. I'll be fine until then if you helped me just this once."

"I can't let you live alone, Veronica."

"I won't be. My father's friends are helping as much as they can. I just couldn't ask them to help with everything else. They'd try to afford it if I asked even if they couldn't, you see."

Suddenly, his tone changed, and he said, "You know who I am, Veronica."

She felt chills. "Yes," she answered warily.

"You know I'm a powerful man, then?"

"Yes," she agreed, not liking what he might lead to.

"You know you're my daughter."

Again, she said, "Yes."

"And I know you're my daughter."

"Yes? I don't—"

"But, if I have to, I will contest my paternity and drag this out in the courts. You won't see any money for a very long time."

Shocked, Veronica exclaimed, "But your family! The scandal. You—"

"I don't care about a lot of things, Veronica."

She chewed on her bottom lip. Cliff wouldn't like this. She didn't like this. But, without his cooperation, the bills wouldn't be paid, and she didn't even want to consider what would happen after Cliff's money ran out. Resigned, she asked, "What do you want then?"

"Live with me until you graduate high school. That's it. You'll be taken care of, and I'll set up a trust fund for you, too."

"Why?" She whispered hoarsely.

"You're my daughter. Why else?"

His words did little to comfort her, and she couldn't shake off the feeling that she should be very careful with his man.

"Just until I graduate?"

Just until she graduated, and she and her father could be set.

"Until you graduate," he agreed. "Now, where are you? I can have someone pick you up. Or I can get you myself."

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Cliff's phone rang in front of him. He was at his office but little work had been done.

"Cliff, change of plans," Veronica said.

"Of course!" He answered raising his glass as if in celebration. He tipped his head back and emptied the contents into his mouth. "Of course."

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Standing up from desk, Jake walked over to his book case. There, he stood, selecting a hard copy of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" from it. Tucked into the cover sleeve was a photo, which he carefully pulled out. Looking at it, he was confronted with all of his regrets.

He traced the face of the woman in the picture once before replacing everything.

He had let her go. He had been foolish at the time to think she would only be his. And, despite his best efforts to find her again, she was lost to him completely.

But, as if by fate, a piece of her had found him. And, he was sure it was a piece of her. They had the same sweet voice and inflection. Sweet handwriting.

He wondered if that saying about letting something you loved go applied to his situation.

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A/N: Thoughts? Have I completely lost it? The answer's yes, but can you tell? If so, then please tell me. I envision a lot of plot holes in this, so if you spot one, please report it. Please be patient with me on this one, I'm working on another story as well (not part of this fandom).

If things are confusing to you now, then just wait til later. Or, you know, ask, and I'll try to clear it up if I can… assuming it's not part of the intentional mystery and suspense haha. I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I hope to.

Fun fact: I now have a tumblr. From there, I have links to my other accounts, and I sometimes use it to post sneak peeks and updates and such. But, there's a general randomness since I'm using it as my personal blog, but yeah. It's where you can kind of keep up to date on my progress… if I remember.

The URL is fromyouraveragegirl. tumblr. com.