Respectable Scoundrels: Keller Killed the Mood (and some other things)
Disclaimer: Stargate and White Collar belong to their respective owners, I'm just borrowing. No copyright infringement intended!
Author's Note: This particular fic marked a change in the tone of my writing, for a while (I don't believe I'll post them all at once though). I had wanted to introduce Keller as an antagonist, and there's a whole canon that I don't go into about Keller being incredibly abusive and using that fact + Alex as leverage to get Neal to do what he wants.
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Part One
You're playing Neal's wingman today.
You watch him join Alex down below, watch as the man they're meeting comes up and towers over them both; you adjust your aim with the gun that Neal hates and keep silent. You know that the back-slapping and the hugs are just that, but your spine tingles all the same. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end.
They talk for about ten minutes, and your body is covered in cold sweat by the time it's over. Nothing happens. The guy comes, he talks, he leaves. But things are tense. You can see that Neal is more guarded while he's there, and Alex (who you've come to respect) is wound tight as a spring, almost flinching when the man kisses her hand even though he's gentle. She and Neal talk for a minute after the guy leaves, and it ends with a soft word from Neal before Alex pushes him away and disappears into the night.
You make sure to put the gun away before Neal gets back, but he sees the bulge in the small of your back anyways. He doesn't approve, and you know it.
"I wish you wouldn't insist on bringing that thing everywhere."
"I don't like him at all, Neal. He's dangerous."
"Nobody really likes Matthew Keller; but his money is good and it's a nice gig. And I'm bored, Vala."
You want to laugh at him; you almost do. He sounds so much like you once upon a time. You don't really find it funny, though, because it's dangerous and he knows that and everyone knows you shouldn't work with anyone who might stab you in the back.
"Let's rob a bank, then," you suggest with a touch of desperation, because a bank is a challenge, a bank might tempt him. You don't want him working with that man who reminds you too much of Ba'al when you haven't even met him yet.
"Banks will always be around," he says, and he shatters your fool's hope that you can talk him out of it, "this job won't be. Besides, Alex asked for my help; begged me really, and that's enough to make it important. You know how she is."
Yes, you do. Alex is more like you than either one of you cares to admit, and you know that she doesn't beg. But you remember that she flinched away from Keller, and you think you understand her. Suddenly you know Neal wants to protect her.
Maybe, you think, he has the right idea.
"I'm coming with you, then."
Neal doesn't like it; you don't care. He bargains and bribes and reasons and cons, and he's damn good at it but you're better. You reason him out of all his arguments until he admits defeat, and you're glad when he doesn't ask you not to bring your gun. You wouldn't have listened anyways. He's your responsibility, dammit! You're the one who was reformed once, and you can't seem to shake those tendencies. Neal is your partner. And the first unspoken rule you learn about partners and teams is that you always back them up.
There is no way you are allowing him anywhere near Matthew Keller if the man isn't in your crosshairs.
Part Two
The job sounds as fishy as you thought it would. You meet Keller and he's all smiles and odd American accent and charm; but his eyes are far too attentive, his hands too confident when he shakes yours. You look at Alex and she's white as a ghost but she's still here. It makes you wonder what Keller has on her.
You wish you can get Neal alone and warn him that things are going to go very wrong.
On the surface, the plan is easy enough; slip into the museum at closing time, steal the treasure (Keller is cagey about what you're stealing, but you badger him until he admits it's a music box), and sneak out. It sounds simple, but you know from experience that nothing is ever that simple. So does Neal, and so does Alex, but they're going along with the plan anyways and you still can't get them out from under Keller's probing eyes.
Before the heist, when you've finalized the plan and Neal is busy hailing a cab, Keller turns to you. He isn't as big as you remember Teal'c being, but his presence is enormous and you're reminded again of Ba'al. You feel your mouth go dry. When he speaks, he has a slick, oily way of talking that sets your teeth on edge.
"Vala. That's a pretty name, very unique."
"It's a family name." And it might be, though you never bothered to ask.
He chuckles. "Of course it is."
"I pity the family who shares your name."
"Now Vala, I get the feeling that you don't like me very much. Have I done something to offend you?" He touches your shoulder, and it takes all of your willpower not to pull out your gun and shoot him dead right now. You have a rush of empathy for Alex.
You settle for shaking his hand off. "Touch me again and we will have a problem," you threaten, your voice pitched low so that Neal won't hear.
Keller laughs again and sticks his hands in his pockets. "I didn't mean nothin' by it, sweetheart; just makin' conversation. Though since you seem to have an unwarranted aversion to me, I feel like I gotta ask; are you gonna be okay with this job? Because I am not about to let you or anyone else screw me over, here. I have a lot invested in this bit of history."
He makes you wish that you could botch the job, just to spite him; but it's Neal and Alex on the line, too. "Nobody gets hurt, and I won't cause any trouble." You say it with false sweetness and walk away before he can reply, because Neal has found a cab and you feel dirty even having a conversation with him.
You wait until Keller is out of view to turn to Neal. "This is a bad idea."
"Vala..."
"I don't want to talk about it, just wanted to put it on record for when things go wrong."
You ignore him for the rest of the ride back to your hotel. You head straight for the shower and don't come out for almost an hour, letting the water pound your skin and trying to scrub away the feel of his touch.
He's like leprosy, and you're scared to death to be infected.
Part Three
The job falls apart.
Getting in is easy, laughably easy if Keller wasn't breathing down your neck and the plan wasn't horrible. He and Alex lead the way, Neal circumvents the security, and you bring up the rear and keep watch while the three of them enter the exhibit to do the dirty work.
After only a minute, the staff starts to make their rounds. You see janitors and a few security guards, and you are still trying to decide how to take them down without causing them permanent damage when there are gunshots.
Keller is behind you in the doorway of the exhibit, and his eyes are dark. The gun in his hand is still spitting casings. He's not looking at you, which is good, because you take the opportunity to tackle him to the ground and knock the weapon out of his hand. But Keller is bigger than you, and (you hate to admit) stronger than you. He flips you off and pins you on your back with his knees on your chest and you think your ribcage might shatter under his weight. He's not going back for his gun only because the unfortunate guards are already dead; they won't be calling the police on him.
"Now don't take this the wrong way, sweetheart; but I seem to recall you promising me that you wouldn't cause any trouble. And I mean, it could be just me, but this certainly seems like trouble."
There's no breath left in your body and your lungs are burning, but you manage a defiant croak. "You killed them! You said no one would get hurt."
"Well, technically I never promised that."
You want to swear at him in all the languages you know, but your vision is getting fuzzy, and where the hell is Neal when you're being suffocated by the guy you told him couldn't be trusted? (Didn't he hear the shooting?) You clench your teeth and have a burst of regret for all the things you've never said and won't have a chance to, but all of a sudden the pressure is gone and you're choking because it hurts to breath and air has never tasted so good.
Then someone is grabbing your arms and pulling you to your feet, and you realize that Alex and Neal are there too. Then you're running, and nobody asks about the gunshots; but Neal's jaw is set and Alex looks scared, and you don't have the breath to tell them anyways.
You all scatter once you're free of the building, running for safety as the sound of sirens approaches. You don't see where Keller goes. You know, though, that he got the box from Alex before you split up.
You curse, and allow yourself grim satisfaction at being right.
You don't go back to the hotel; Keller probably knows you're staying there, and Neal will probably swing back for your things. If he doesn't, well, you didn't bring anything you cared about on this trip anyways. You leave a message for him and head back to London.
When Neal gets back you're in your bra and sweatpants and are winding an ace bandage around your bruised ribs (no good way to explain this one to a doctor, but maybe you can get Teal'c to smuggle you a healing device). He's quiet for a long time, and you don't meet his eyes in the mirror. It's not his fault, and you don't think you blame him, but you are mad. None of you should ever have gotten involved with Keller.
"Your gun or his?"
Neal's voice startles you so that you almost drop the roll of bandages. It hurts that he asks, but you think he already knows the answer. "His."
Neal nods, and leaves the room. You can hear him moving around the flat, the murmur of his voice as he orders takeout, and you try to hate him for being an idiot today; but you can't.
The only person you can hate is yourself, for letting it happen.
fin.
