Done for the comment_fic livejournal community. Prompt:

Leverage/Burn Notice, Eliot/Michael, "We need an unknown to meet the mark"

The Miami Job

"He's flying to Miami," Hardison said without looking up from the laptop. It was a Tuesday afternoon and the team had grown just a little too comfortable with their job. Mistakes were happening more and more frequently and there seemed to be nothing Nate could do to stop it.

"Then we're going to have to steal ourselves an airplane." It should have bothered them all how normal this seemed not only to Nate but to the rest of them as well. Eliot figured, what the hell, it practically was normal now. The man raised a glass of something to his lips as he spoke. The only thing that seemed less and less normal was the frequency of Nate's drinking.

But as soon as Nate had said it, Hardison was talking again, "No, naw, that's not going to work."

Nate frowned and looked more carefully at the rosters of information Hardison was throwing up onto the six-screen display. "We've done it before, what do you mean..." and then, "Oh."

"I hate it when you guys say that." Parker pouted in her seat and swiveled back and forth on the office chair.

"Yeah, 'oh' is right. The flight is already in the air."

The screens flickered back again with more information and Sophie found herself blinking at it all. There was no way the list of on-flight movies could possibly be relevant to their case. "Hardison…" she began, "Can you turn it around?"

Hardison raised one eyebrow at her. "Woman, you're insane. I can't even get access to their radio frequency. After what happened last time they totally changed their systems."

Eliot snorted. "Figures, you can't figure it out."

"Say what? Oh, now that's just not fair! I could easily, mark my words, easily send that plane anywhere I wanted it to go. I just don't have the time."

"Hardison…"

"It's landing in twenty minutes, guys. Give me a break!"

Nate found himself resting his hands over his face and wishing the situation would magically improve. When he realized, a second later, that it wasn't going to he took a long drag of the whiskey resting under his hands. They had been hired two days ago, if one could call it being hired, by an elderly woman who had been swindled out of her retirement fund by a couple of drifting scam artists. Their MO was easy and predictable, but even so, they had managed to miss some key bits and pieces and suddenly their very easy case had turned into a logistical nightmare. "We're going to lose them unless we can get someone to snag 'em there. We need an unknown to meet the mark."

There was silence around the table. Even Hardison, who five seconds ago couldn't keep his mouth shut, was looking at him strangely.

"Nate, man," the hacker said slowly, "we've lost it. They're in Miami in twenty minutes. Miami is a long way away."

Eliot cleared his throat. "Actually, I have someone for that job…"

Four pairs of eyes swiveled to look at their usually reserved hitter.

Sophie was the first to speak. "You… do? Is this person ex-mob?"

Foggy blue eyes narrowed incredulously. "No."

Sophie tilted her head, "An ex-girlfriend then!"

"No!"

"Come on, man, you got to give us something…" Hardison grinned at him and Eliot quietly restrained the urge to break his nose.

"His name is Michael Westen and he's good for the job is all."

Nate frowned. "Michael Westen… where have I heard that name before…?" But whatever fleeting thought had popped up with the semi-familiar name disappeared before he could catch it and the leader of the most honest team of thieves nodded at Eliot and said, "fine, call him."

Sophie leaned over and stage whispered to Parker, "I'll bet they were after the same girl."

Parker leaned back and said, "I bet they weren't," with a wink and a look on her face that Sophie could not quite decipher.

But Eliot had flipped open his cell phone and shoved his chair back from the table, excusing himself but not straying quite far enough to hid his half of the conversation from the other four thieves.

"Michael. Been awhile. Can you get to the airport in twenty minutes?"

So far so good, Nate thought to himself. There was a chance they could still pull this thing off.

"No, I'm not coming. Listen, can you do it or not?"

A pause, and there wasn't a single thief that didn't wish they could hear the other side of the conversation. Eliot was incredibly quiet about his life, his friends outside of jobs, or about previous jobs he had pulled. There was a good chance this was a friend or someone who had tried to kill him. Maybe both.

"Good. Thanks. I owe you one."

And this was his cue, Nate thought. "Tell him to bring a sign saying 'Mr. Smith and Friends' and a briefcase, and wear something tacky, maybe a neon tie."

Eliot relayed the message and then looked imploringly at Nate and raised his eyebrows. "And…"

Ah. That 'and.' He'd only had one glass of the whisky. Or had it been two? "And do what ever is necessary to get them on another plane back to us." Then, realizing this was one of Eliot's acquaintances, he added, "in one piece"

After Eliot said that last bit the conversation consisted of frequent pauses followed by Eliot's intermittent speech. "No, definitely don't do that," and, "Sam's still alive? Are you and him…" and, "alright, fine, shut up already," and, "say hello to Fiona for me."

"I told you," Sophie said triumphantly to Parker. "Fiona," she tested the name on her lips. She liked it, it was strong and delicate all at once… definitely something she could use herself.

Hardison rolled his eyes and put his feet up on the table. Women were strange creatures, no question about it.

And then, right before Eliot hung up and grinned at the team, he said, "love you too, babe." The phone snapped shut and it rung through the silence in the room.

Parker beamed at Sophie, who was wide eyed and slack jawed. "I win."