Title: More Than Ten Things I Hate About You
Author: Billy
Summary: Face's assets are removed.
Ratings: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own the A Team and I've not made a penny from this; I just do it for the jazz!
"Okay, hands up real slow, wise guy."
Face slowly held up his hands and turned around to be greeted by Benson and two of his goons. All three of the men held their guns on him.
He gave a nervous smile. "Sorry, maybe I've got the wrong office. Is this-."
"Search him," Benson ordered, interrupting Face. "Find out who the hell this bozo is."
His two goons approached, still keeping their guns trained on him. Face gave Benson a smile. Damn lucky I didn't find that safe, Face thought, then I would in trouble.
"Try anything stupid and my friend here, Tex, will shoot you," one of the goons said as he started to search Face's pockets, nodding to his friend. Face smiled at the man, keeping his hands held up.
"I got his wallet." (1) The man waved Face's black leather wallet in his hand.
"Lenny." Benson clicked his fingers and was thrown the wallet. He flicked through the wallet and the various identifications it held. He shook his head. "You some kind of conman, or something?"
"Me? No." Face shook his head.
"So what's with all the ID's?"
Benson grimaced and kept his gun aimed at Face.
"Er," Face started to respond. "Those, don't know how they got there. You sure you got the right wallet?"
Face frowned as he watched Benson pocket his cash from the wallet, three hundred dollars in fifties. Benson looked at him, sure he wanted a reaction, he wasn't going to get it though.
"Boss, he's got some sort of badge with this one," Lenny said as he threw over another black wallet. (2) "It says something about a federal agency."
"Shit! FBI?"
Benson flicked it open to see a badge and some identification that went with it behind the plastic window.
"Relax, Tex. It's a fake."
Face nervously smiled at Benson, shrugging his shoulders, even with his hands held up in the air. Benson just glared at him, then nodded to his two men to continue.
"Hey, nice piece." Lenny now pulled out Face's revolver, turned the chambers, curling his lips and nodding, and then tucked it in the back of his pants. (3)
"Er," Face moaned, moving forward trying to complain, dropping his arms.
"Hey, don't move!" Tex threatened, reminding Face he had the gun. "Hands up!"
Lenny was now flicking through the pages of a little black book. (4) Face's eyes widened.
"No, no, not my book," he groaned.
"He's got a real collection here." Lenny looked at his boss.
"Goes with the ID," Benson added sarcastically.
The book got thrown over his shoulder. Face watched where the book landed as Lenny continued his search.
"Car keys," Lenny said, throwing them to Benson, who caught them with his free hand. (5)
Face rolled his eyes, glad he'd parked the Vette up a couple of blocks now.
"What's these?"
"These?" Face pointed to his lock picks that were now in the grubby paws of his searcher, knowing full well they wouldn't get the respect they deserved. "They're my tools of my trade." (6)
"Hey!" Tex shouted, obviously not happy with Face's movement.
Face quickly put his hands back up. "I'm a locksmith," he said, putting on his most convincing smile.
"You look like a crook from where I'm standing!" Benson bellowed, thumping his hand down on a desk. "What do you want? Who sent you?"
"Boss, this guys got all sorts of stuff on him." Lenny turned to Benson, he now had a handful of stuff which he placed on a table near him. "Notebook, with all sorts of numbers in it, looks like sums. And a nice pen. " (7 & 8) Lenny studied the gold pen, taking the top off, then placing it back on.
"They're fees, or debts owed. I'll be adding yours to it next," Face interrupted. "Hey, and that's my best pen!"
"Lenny, shut him up!" Benson ordered and Lenny put down the item and punched Face in the gut.
Face groaned, leaning over.
"Hands up, where I can see them!" Tex ordered, gun still pointing at him.
Face stood up, wincing at the pain. His breath heavy, but he tried to regain his composure and smile at them again.
"And these." Lenny scratched his head as he held up some bone shaped biscuits.
"Dog biscuits?" Benson raised an eyebrow at Face. (9)
Face shrugged. "So, I've got a friend who likes dog biscuits." Tex punched him this time.
"Funny!"
"Boss, what's this? Some sort of listening device, looks like one of those things doctors carry." Benson sure hadn't hired Lenny for his brains.
"It's a stethoscope, Lenny." (10)
"Yeah, Lenny, it's a stethoscope," Face answered sarcastically, and got a smack from Tex.
"You trying to get into my safe?" Benson edged forward.
"No, no, of course not." Face shook his head. "I got a buddy who needs letting out of the VA once in a while." And I was going to use it to get in your safe, fat chance of that now.
"Strip this guy down!" Benson held his gun on Face and nodded to his two men.
"What? Wait guys-."
"-Nice watch," (11) Lenny pocketed Face's Rolex.
"Sure it's not a fake, like the ID's?" Benson sneered.
"Hey! It's not a fake!"
"Are those Gucci?" Tex pointed to Face's shoes (12). "What size are they?"
"Oh boy. Not my shoes."
With a gun aimed at him, Face daren't fight them off, but he tried to plead for his clothes. "Guys, guys, this is my best suit."
"I could do with a new shoulder holster." (13)
In between blows, the two men striped Face of his tailored beige three piece suit (14), silk shirt (15) and his favourite tie (16), down to his shorts.
He stood there groaning, hands once again raised, thankful that they'd at least let him keep his shorts. Wait till I see Hannibal, I'll give him 'a piece a cake.'
end