Keeping a Straight Face by InSilva

Summary: There's always a time and a place. And this really isn't either. Danny/Rusty. Rated for profanity and…inexplicit stuff. One-shot.

Disclaimer: the boys aren't mine.


It was Denny Shields's fault. Again.

The pair of them sat in splendid isolation in the best seats in the house: a huge semi-circle booth with no one behind them and a round table in front of them generously covered in white linen. They had an excellent view of the stage show. Moreover, they had an excellent view of the other tables and the room in general. And anyone approaching their table had a little blind spot to dip into either side before they actually made it to them which gave them the chance to escape anyone they really didn't want to see.

Not that there was anyone they really didn't want to see. There were lots of old faces in tonight who nodded to them and waved a hand and they acknowledged everyone. After the Bank job, they were kings.

Denny waved and beamed at them and made his way over, clutching his drink.

"Danny! Rusty!" he sat down with a grin and they tipped their own malts in his direction.

"What a blast, guys!" Denny said contentedly. "What a blast!"

Rusty and Danny exchanged glances.

You think he feels part of the crew?

I think he does.

"Couldn't have done it without you, Denny," Danny assured him. "You were key to it all."

"Aw! You guys! You'd have managed." Denny looked pleased anyway. "Besides it's the least I could do after what I did. If I hadn't opened my mouth…"

Rusty smiled. "That didn't work out too badly, Denny."

"Thank God." Denny shook his head. "Still…" he looked over at Danny. "You were so cool, Danny. I couldn't believe it."

He looked over at Rusty.

"This man," he pointed at Danny and said with emphasis, "has the best poker face ever. You want to know about control? You look at this man."

"Denny…"

"No, Danny, I mean it. People should take lessons from you. You are the best." He checked his watch. "I gotta go, guys. But it's been great."

He reached over and shook first Rusty's and then Danny's hand.

"You got it, Danny," he said with sincere respect. "Others should pray to be as good."

Danny watched him go then looked down at his drink and smiled. Then he looked over at Rusty and the smile slipped away.

"What?"

Rusty's eyes were lit with amused memory.

"You. You and control."

"What?" Danny asked. "I do control."

Rusty shook his head. "I'm saying nothing."

Danny frowned. "Are you…you are!"

"I'm what?"

Jealous.

Like hell!

"Because Denny said I had the best poker face." Teasing.

"I'm not doing this."

"You're sulking," Danny accused with a grin.

"I'm so not."

"Your bottom lip says otherwise."

Rusty sighed. "Two words."

"Which are?"

"Martha's Vineyard."

"Oh, that doesn't count!" Danny rolled his eyes.

"If you had the control-"

"That spider was enormous!"

"-and the best poker face-"

"Easily the size of my hand!"

"-you wouldn't have dropped the ball. Not to mention the vase."

They stared at each other, one amused and the other indignant.

"I can do control. My poker face is exemplary."

"Really?" Rusty dipped his finger in his whisky and pushed it over his bottom lip thoughtfully.

"Damn right!" Danny was insistent.

"As long as there aren't any spiders?"

"You mocking me now?"

"Little bit," Rusty grinned.

Then Danny said it.

"I can do control better than you."

Rusty's eyes acquired a hard sparkle. "Oh, now that's become a challenge."

"Danny! Rusty!"

Danny swivelled round in his seat.

"Max Turner," he said looking over his shoulder and waving. "Haven't seen him since forever. He's coming over…"

He turned back and found Rusty missing.

"Rusty…?"

He felt the hands under the table, under his thighs, tipping his hips forward.

What the…?

"Rusty…?" He could not avoid the rising note of alarm in his voice.

He only just had the presence of mind to make sure the tablecloth was spread discreetly over his lap before Max Turner plumped himself down for a chat.


"Danny. It's been too long. So good to see you."

Max reached over and was surprised to feel the tension in Danny's handshake.

"Max, Max…"

"No Rusty?"

"Oh, he's…he's around…"

"Putting that silver tongue of his to good use somewhere, eh?"

Danny made a small inarticulate noise that Max frowned at but ignored.

"Well, I just wanted to say well done. Willy Bank had it coming."

"Mmm."

"Always looking to mouth off at someone and screw them over."

"Mmm."

"Thinks he's hard. He's not hard."

"No."

"He doesn't know what hard is."

"- -"

"Exactly," Max nodded. "Rubs people up the wrong way and look at the result."

"Yeah…"

"And that woman…Abigail Sponder, is it?"

"Yeah…"

"Abigail Sponder…" Max shook his head. "What a mouthful."

Danny made the noise again.

This time, Max looked concerned.

"Danny…? Are you…?"

"I'm OK…"

Max had never heard so many syllables in two letters.

"It's just-" Danny swallowed. Hard. "Have you seen this stage show?"

There was more than a hint of desperation that Max registered but ignored. This was Danny Ocean. You didn't ask too many questions. Max turned his head. The magician was in the process of disappearing his assistant. Max watched as she reappeared from inside a locked chest and applauded with the rest of the audience. Impressive.

Still clapping, he turned back to Danny and found Rusty opposite him, sipping his whisky.

"Rusty!"

Rusty's grin was ear to ear. "Max."

"Jeez. Where did you pop up from?"

"Oh, it's in my nature to be mysterious."

"Well," Max stood up and shook both their hands. "I just wanted to stop by and say hello. You take care now?"

"Bye, Max."

Rusty watched Max go. He ran a finger round the corner of his mouth as if he'd got some food caught there and licked it off, then turned to Danny and grinned.

"Oh, yeah. You're all about the control."

Danny glared at him.

You…you…

"Yeah, me." Rusty stretched lazily. "Why, you think it was someone else?"

Danny caught a passing waiter. "Whisky on the rocks."

"And a whisky straight up," Rusty added. He frowned. "When did you start ordering on the rocks?"

"Felt the need to cool down," Danny said shortly.

Rusty grinned.

"You are radiating smugness."

"I know." Rusty's eyes were shining brightly.

"And you've seen "Police Academy" one too many times."

The grin grew impossibly wider.

The drinks arrived and they sipped them in smirking and seething silence then Rusty looked over to his left and a broad smile appeared on his face.

"It's Reuben. Hey, Reuben!" He threw a hand up and saw Reuben acknowledge him and change direction to head towards the table.

"He looks so much better, doesn't he? God, I'm glad we could-"

He turned back to find Danny gone.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Rusty's hands scrabbled under the table but came up empty.

He frowned and did another blind sweep of the area. Nothing.

"Hey, Rus." Cigar in hand, Reuben perched at the end of the table. "On your own? Can I join you?"

"Er…sure..."

Rusty leaned back against the seat. Perhaps Danny had just stepped away...then he felt the hands on his thighs and with a sinking heart, he realised Danny had only been biding his time.


"I feel so good, Rusty."

"Yeah."

"And so relaxed. You know what I mean?"

"Mmm."

"Willy Bank wandering through this town and thinking he's so hot. He's not hot. The man needed to understand this."

"Mmm."

"He does not know what hot is."

"No."

"We know what hot is, right?"

"Yeah."

"I love that, right to the end, he didn't even know what was going down."

"No."

"We know what-"

"Oh, yeah."

"Ah, you and Danny…well, I know it was everyone but…you two, Rusty…"

"- -"

"Exactly my point," Reuben looked round. "Where is Danny?"

"About."

"Uh." Reuben nodded. "Off undercover somewhere, is he?"

"Ohhhh…"

There were far too many "h"s in there for Reuben's liking.

"You alright?"

"It's just – have you seen this stage show, Reuben?" Rusty asked tightly.

Reuben gestured dismissively with his hand without even glancing towards the stage. "Seen it, don't rate it. Woman's got the voice of a lemur."

He frowned. He could have sworn he heard a chuckle. "Did you hear- hey! You OK?"

He stretched out a hand towards Rusty. Rusty waved it away.

"Just this part, Reuben." His voice was tighter than ever and his hands gripped the edge of the table and then his voice was barely above a whisper. "Gets me every time."

Wonderingly, Reuben turned his head towards the stage. The diva was hitting a series of unlikely high notes. He supposed it appealed to some. He turned back and found Danny sitting opposite, grinning, whisky glass in hand.

"Good to see you, Reuben."

"Likewise." Reuben had learned long ago just to accept, not to ask. "Just wanted to thank you both again, Danny. Really. More than I can say."

"You're very welcome."

"OK. Well, I'll see you round. And thanks again."

"Anytime, Reuben," Danny smiled. "You know that."

He waited till Reuben had left then turned to Rusty.

"How's that poker face of yours doing?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Reuben?" Rusty hissed. "Reuben and an ice-cube?"

Danny smiled serenely down into his whisky.

"You are an unmitigated bastard, you know that?" Rusty scowled.

"Face it, you just don't have the discipline."

Rusty's eyes were unnaturally bright. "I'll show you discipline."


It was later. Much later. And it was a hotel room.

They lay on the bed looking up at the ceiling.

"Well..."

"...yeah."

"Fuck."

"That about covers it."

"How'd this start again?"

"You started it-"

"I did not. You started it-"

"-you and your little "I can do control"..."

"-you and your little "that's become a challenge"..."

There was a pause.

"Denny Shields started it."

"Oh, yeah."

"Yeah."

"Have to thank him some time."

"Do something nice."

There was another pause.

"So…?"

"I take it back." Conciliatory.

"You're forgiven."

By now, I'd hope so. "Anyway. It wasn't really a fair test."

"I'll say." With feeling. "Reuben and an ice-cube."

"I mean, that's about technique as much as control."

"Yeah, and I am all over the technique."

"- -"

"What? Oh, come on…"

The discussion continued. Wordlessly.


A/N: well, I hope it made you smile.