Title: Version 2.0

Fandom: Crossover NCIS/Leverage

Rating: Completely G

Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine. Leverage is not mine.

Hardison could have picked a better time to break his arm playing a video game. Sure, he said it was skiing in Vail, but the whole team knew he'd slipped on a rug while doing the ski jump on the Wii. Even he forgot to pretend it was Vail now and then.

However it happened, though, it was a major problem. They were in the middle of a con involving on-the-fly hacking visible to the mark, and they needed Hardison to be at the top of his game. If he wasn't, they wouldn't be able to convince Mr. Aaron Miller he needed to change banks to one conveniently temporarily controlled by the crew, and then the whole con would fall apart. An argument to this effect had been ongoing for at least ten minutes.

"I need both hands to type that kinda stuff," Hardison emphasized for the third time. "I can't be doin none of your hunt n peck nonsense."

"I'll show you hunt n peck," Eliot growled, and muttered something under his breath about Hardison and one-handed typing which Hardison chose to ignore.

Nate had been relatively silent during this particular argument, which was a clear sign he was about to change the play.

"So you'll find another hacker," he suddenly pronounced, as if it were the easiest solution in the world. The rest of the team, as usual, just stared at him.

"Hold up, Nate, it ain't that easy. I can't just put an ad up on Craigslist here. Hackers do not play well with others," Hardison protested, giving Nate his nearly-patented Have you lost your ever-lovin mind? look.

"Y'got that right," Eliot tossed in, which Hardison didn't even bother to acknowledge.

"No, I mean it. We have to show Mr. Miller visible and clear signs of hacking so he'll believe that First Independent Bank isn't secure and First Consolidated Bank is, right?" Nate said. "So, Hardison, talk to your network of hackers and find someone who's good enough to work with you, someone who won't mind what we do. It shouldn't be that hard."

With that pronouncement, he walked off, leaving the team to stare after him with various expressions of dismay, amusement, and confusion.

Despite his grumbling, Hardison had actually found a hacker he thought could work with them, and she was currently sitting in the bar while the team looked her over from the apartment, and in the case of Parker, lifted anything interesting from her bag. It was a lift as smooth as they expected, and shortly after they saw it on the monitor, Parker appeared bearing a black wallet, red mobile phone, and white access badge, which she held up in consternation.

"She works for NCIS," Parker declared.

"NCIS? As in Naval Criminal Investigative Services?" Eliot expanded, glaring at Hardison. "You couldn't find someone else on the Island of Nerds? Someone who isn't a fed?"

"I have some concerns about her loyalties myself," Nate said, mastering the understatement as usual.

Hardison held up his hands in defense. "Abby's list of hacks includes pretty much every domestic agency and most of the foreign ones, plus a whole bunch of other places. And that's just the stuff I know about. You said you wanted the best. That's her."

"Better'n you?" Eliot jibed. "She's definitely hotter'n you."

"O-oh, now, I-I wouldn't say that."

"S'what I thought."

Sophie, who had so far just sat back and watched the argument with the air of someone herding small children, suddenly said, "I like her style," which brought the conversation to an abrupt halt, and Hardison took the opportunity to get back the wallet, access badge, and phone before heading downstairs.

Their potential hacker-helper greeted him with a large but solicitous hug, careful not to jar his cast, and the team gave each other interested looks. This was going to be quite a job, apparently.

Hardison had explained the situation to Abby without too many geek spirals and she'd agreed to help out. She'd said something about enjoying challenges, appreciating the Sherwood Forest thing and having something like a year of vacation time anyway. Now, she was ensconced in Hardison's usual spot in the van, guzzling as much soda as he was while they waited for the actual hacking to start. Their conversation had baffled everyone else listening on the earbuds and prompted Eliot to turn his down at least twice, but so far the con was going well. Parker the administrative assistant had greeted Mr. Miller and escorted him to the office of Nate the bank executive, where Sophie the technology consultant was waiting to technobabble about the banking security present at First Consolidated Bank, banking security that was second to none outside of Switzerland, she assured him.

He'd been nearly convinced, but the piece de resistance was yet to come, and Sophie turned the laptop to show him his account through First Independent Bank's online site, or at least what seemed to be the site. Abby had mocked it up fast enough to impress everyone, even Hardison.

"Now, Hardison," Eliot cued from his position as plant-waterer outside the glassed-in office, and the team in the van figuratively sprang into action to hack the site and show the mark how his accounts were being systematically drained, with Abby providing the keystrokes and Hardison supervising. As expected, Mr. Miller responded with spluttering and panicked calls to his bank, all of which were rerouted to Parker in her most unhelpfully helpful customer service persona.

After the third iteration of, "Now, for your security question, could you please tell me the name of your third grade teacher's best friend's dog?" he finally gave up and hung up, then looked at Nate and Sophie.

"That's it. I'm changing my accounts to your bank now. Here's the account numbers and the routing numbers. Have it done by tomorrow. I have to finish an important business transaction with Kim Jong Il, and that man does not like to be kept waiting," Miller said, writing the important details on a notepad and sliding them across the desk to Nate, who maintained his most urbane and helpful manner.

Sophie escorted Mr. Miller out of the bank and the team quickly returned it to its correct owners while Abby froze the accounts in question and alerted the FBI.

"How did you-?" Hardison asked, when they noticed the FBI careening around the corner to pick up Mr. Miller way faster than they'd expected.

"Sometimes it helps to be a fed," she pointed out, giving him a conspiratorial grin.

In the end, their client got the money Miller had bilked, Miller got a well-deserved prison sentence, and Abby refused to take payment other than hugging Hardison again.

"Oh, no way. This was fun, not work. I can't let you pay me for that. Give the money to your client," she protested, and left the bar with a flirty little wave over her shoulder that might have been to Hardison or might have been to Eliot.

Hardison glanced at the shorter man and noticed him putting a piece of paper in his pocket, then shook his head. "Aw, naw, naw, man, you cannot seriously tell me you got the phone number of my hacker contact. That is just wrong."

"She might be a hacker n'geeky as you, but she's damn hot," Eliot replied imperturbably.

The argument that might have resulted from those fighting words was forestalled by Parker.

"So is she our new Hardison?"