Disclaimer: Own nothing to do with O11

A/N: For InSilva. Because she DIDN'T ask for it. But I thought she had.

A week. They'd been shut up in the hotel for a week. And Livingston was working on something mysterious, and Basher was blowing up laundry chutes and Saul was wandering around saying "Good evening, I am Gulliver Mason" in thirty different accents, none of which were apparently right, and Reuben was spending enough hours on the phone that Linus was imagining that they were going to need Stephen Hawking to figure out the bill, and Rusty was trying to construct a believable set of plans for Florentine's place from fifteen sets of blue prints, (at least one of which Linus was sure were of Disneyland,) and a handful of old photographs, and Danny, well, Danny was allegedly supervising.

Linus, Turk, Virgil and Yen were doing nothing. They'd been doing nothing for a week. While everyone else worked.

That went some way towards explaining the simple fact that when Turk had suggested the water balloon fight, Linus had thought it was an excellent idea.

And, three hours later, out of breath, damp, and somewhat more giggly than he felt a man of his age and professionalism should admit to, chasing Yen down the corridor with one water balloon in his hand and a further three strapped to a bandoleer that Virgil had, rather worryingly, managed to rustle up at a moments notice; Linus had to admit he was having a great time.

That was, until he turned the corner and saw Rusty standing at the head of the stairs, yawning and holding a huge bundle of paper. That was, until he realised that he wasn't going to be able to stop in time. That was, until he crashed full force into Rusty and, in trying desperately to keep both of them on their feet, somehow managed to knock both of them down the stairs.

Turned out there's a surprising amount of time to think when falling through the air. Not that it was easy to think coherently. But certainly time seemed to slow down quite impressively. He found himself vaguely reflecting on the fact that he'd finally seen a look of complete surprise on Rusty's face and what a pity it was that they were both going to die before he really got a chance to enjoy it. He found himself vaguely thinking that Yen's yell was probably going to be enough to bring everyone in the hotel running. And he found himself thinking that if - by some miracle – the fall didn't kill him, he was really, really not going to survive the lecture he'd get when Dad got to hear about this.

There was a sickening crack as they landed in a knot of limbs, and Linus felt something give way beneath his hand.

He was lying on top of Rusty, their faces inches apart, and he didn't quite dare move.

Eventually Rusty spoke, and Linus breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn't dead. "Would you mind getting off me, kid?"

"Oh! Yes!" Linus scrambled to his feet. "Oh, Rusty, I'm sorry," he began, as Rusty got to his feet carefully, and he noticed how pale Rusty was and he noticed the way he was cradling his arm against his chest and he winced. "I'm really, really sorry."

"It's okay," Rusty told him evenly. "Nothing to worry about. You seen the plans I was holding?"

"It's not okay," Linus insisted wildly, "I was being stupid, and your arm - "

" - wrist, actually." Rusty sighed. "Linus, it's okay. Honestly, it is. It was an accident. The plans?"

"Um," Linus looked round and finally he spotted them, just a few steps down, just a little way behind Rusty. His eyes widened.

Slowly Rusty turned round and stilled. Linus stared at him as he stared at the pile of plans – the plans he'd spent the past week on. The plans that were lying in a ruined heap of soggy paper and water balloon. The plans that were clearly beyond all hope of rescue.

He took a discreet step further back up the stairs. And another. And another.

Rusty turned back round and smiled and the air was alive with anger and Linus felt a little like he was standing in the middle of an oil refinery holding a candle, and he froze like soon-to-be-roadkill caught in headlights. "I'm sorry!" he squeaked, and Rusty nodded and the smile widened and he said nothing.

"Oh, bloody hell." Basher's voice came from behind him, and he risked a quick glance up the stairs to see that in addition to Yen, the twins, Basher and Livingston had gathered on the landing. He tried to decide if pride would allow him to scream for help. Probably not. He took another step back, up the stairs, and Rusty stepped towards him, and he was going to die. He was going to die in this stupid hotel, never having done anything with his life. He was going to die at the hands of one of his closest friends.

Probably no one had ever been quite so glad to see Danny Ocean as Linus was at the moment that Danny materialised just behind him and glided past without sparing him a glance.

"Rus'," Danny said quietly.

Rusty didn't look at him. Rusty was still watching Linus. "All the plans, Danny. The originals and the copies."

Danny nodded slowly. "We can - "

Turning away from Linus, Rusty held his arm out for Danny to inspect, and Linus winced at the sight of the unnatural angle his wrist was at, and the guilt was painful " - oh, a little difficult," Rusty said with a lightness that was far from light.

There was a long pause. And Danny didn't turn back to look at him, and Rusty was still watching Danny, and Linus still felt like he was standing in the path of unimaginable fury.

"Danny. Florentine," Rusty said quietly after a moment.

Danny nodded again. "Think we could - "

" - without the tigers? - " Rusty asked sceptically.

" - yes," Danny agreed and sighed. "No, you're right. So it'll need to be - "

" - in the time we've got?" Rusty shook his head.

"What, like you were planning on eating or sleeping anyway." Danny taunted and Linus cringed, knowing that he was to blame and feeling himself fall for the guilt trip far too easily.

Rusty sighed. "Danny. It can't be done."

"You said that about Texas." And Linus could hear the grin.

There was a wry smile. "Do you remember Texas?"

"Okay, bad example," Danny conceded. "But you said that about Denver."

"Uh huh." Rusty agreed patiently.

"Right," Danny nodded. "No. Uh . . ."

"I said it about St Louis," Rusty offered. "Four times."

"Four times?" and Danny sounded surprised.

Rusty smiled. "Third time I said it twice. Do you begin to see a pattern here, Danny?"

There was a sigh. "You're a negative person. Have I ever told you that?"

"Sometimes I feel like you just don't listen to me," Rusty said wistfully, and the mockery was obvious.

"Okay. Okay. So it can't be done." Danny paused. "How are we going to do it?"

"Flash bulbs and index cards," Rusty said with a grin.

"Fla . . .oh. Oh, that works." And it was nice that Danny thought so. It was. Linus could only hope that at some point he'd be made aware of the plan. Of course, right now, he was concentrating on staying very still and hoping that they forgot that he existed.

"Thank you," Rusty smiled.

"Now we're going to the hospital." The banter had vanished out of Danny's voice, and Linus was staring at Rusty's wrist again and feeling sympathy pains.

Rusty paused. "We could - "

"Shut. Up," Danny told him levelly and if Danny spoke to Linus in that tone of voice, Linus was pretty sure he'd do anything that Danny wanted.

Rusty was watching Danny's face, as though whatever he could see there was far more important than Danny's tone of voice. He sighed. "Yeah. Okay. Hospital then - "

" - Benny's," Danny agreed. "That'll take two days, job'll take another three - "

Rusty was starting to smile. " - so that gives us - "

" - oh, plenty of time - "

" - to think up something - "

" - deeply - "

" - incredibly - "

" - monumentally - "

" - unpleasant to do to Linus," Rusty finished. Not that it mattered. They were both looking at him now. And he couldn't help but whimper.

They smiled at him. "See you later, kid," Danny said pleasantly, and then they ghosted down the stairs and vanished.

"Dude." Turk's voice was full of sympathy and wonder. "Oh, you are so dead right now."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed wholeheartedly. "Man, you are toast."

Linus nodded and wondered if his parents would help him flee the country.

He sighed. Probably it wouldn't make a difference.

Dead man walking.

Thanks for reading, hope you liked.