An Unhappy Coincidence by InSilva

Summary: Set about ten years before O11, a surprise of Rusty's backfires. Badly. Warnings for violence.

Disclaimer: Danny and Rusty aren't mine. Just in case you wondered.

Chapter One: Surprise

"It was the shirt that did it," Danny says, not unreasonably.

"It's a very nice shirt," Rusty protests.

"Not if you're a small town judge."


The day had started out reasonably enough; an ordinary day driving through middle America except that it happened to be Danny's birthday and Rusty hadn't mentioned it.

It rankled with Danny more than he cared to admit. He couldn't believe that Rusty didn't know what day it was and he couldn't believe that Rusty was being deliberately obtuse. Which meant Rusty had something up his sleeve and Danny hated not knowing.


"He was just in a bad mood."

"That shirt's enough to put anyone in a bad mood."


They pulled in to a sleepy town for lunch. The diner had a few locals who looked up when they walked in and then turned their attention back to their plates. They sat at one of the tables in the window and waited for the waitress to take their order.

She paused as she reached the table, taking in the fact that Danny was in black tie. Minus the tie.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he assured her.

She made a noise in response that sounded as if there was nothing much left to surprise her in this world, then asked, "What'll it be, gents?" with her pencil poised over her notepad.

Danny looked at Rusty who was studying the chalkboard with interest.

"Steak 'n' fries, hold the egg, extra mushrooms, extra onion rings and gravy, please," he rattled off.

"Times two," Danny added. "And two coffees, thank you."

She sloped away and Danny stared across the table at his partner, his best friend – his very best friend: the man who still wasn't mentioning his birthday.


"He probably just got out of bed the wrong side."

"Rusty, trust me. It was the damn shirt."


The meal over, Rusty left Danny to pay. Danny counted out dollar bills and thought black thoughts about how they were going to spend Rusty's birthday.

Somewhere on the way back to the car, Danny later worked out, Rusty managed to lift his wallet and replace it with another. It was expertly done, naturally.


"I would have noticed the lift if I wasn't so damn preoccupied with why you hadn't remembered."

"That's what you want to think. Sure, blame it on that."

"Thank you, I will."


"Won't be a minute," Rusty said, disappearing into the local store and post office which was sandwiched between the bank and the police station like the main street you'd find in Toytown.

Danny leaned against the car and sighed. They'd only just eaten and already Rusty was stocking up on candy. Rusty re-emerged, wearing a self-satisfied smile, which again Danny later worked out was because he'd posted their wallets some place safe.

"Can we go now?" Danny asked, partly wondering where the inevitable M & Ms were hidden.

"In a moment," Rusty said, bending down and selecting a hefty sized rock.

Completely mystified, Danny watched as Rusty weighed the rock in his hand.

"What-" Danny began and then stared in horror as Rusty pulled his arm back and launched the stone through the store window.

"Have you gone insane?" Danny hissed.

Rusty picked up another rock and Danny moved. He grabbed Rusty's arm and pulled the rock from it. Just in time for the store owner to come out on to the street. Just in time for the local police officer to walk out through the station door.

"Oh…" Danny groaned.


"That was a mean thing to do. I didn't have you down as a mean person."

"It was necessary. I can be mean if it's necessary."


Their car impounded, Danny stood fuming as his prints were taken. Rusty was busy wiping the ink from his fingers.

"Now you're gonna wait in the cell till we check your prints," Officer Marley said. "Mr…" He checked the paperwork for the names Rusty had provided, the names their identification backed up, "Mr Smith and Mr Bailey."


"Jimmy Stewart fan."

"You like him too."

"More of a Cary Grant man myself."


"Now I know you know that I have a previous for six weeks from way back when."

"That's true," Rusty nodded.

"So," Danny gave a quick grimace at Rusty's unusual stupidity, "my prints are going to come back as belonging to Daniel Ocean, not to George Bailey."

"Mmm. Guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."


"I should have guessed then."

"You should have," Rusty agrees. "You were on poor form."

"Still wondering why I'd been blessed with the company of such a prize idiot."


"Prints came back," Marley was saying down the phone. "No prior convictions."

Danny looked at Rusty who grinned.

"Happy birthday."

They sat side by side in the cell.

"How?"

"That guy we worked with eight months ago. Twitchy guy. Tech genius."

"Livingston Dell?"

"Yeah. Don't ask me the ins and outs because he lost me after the first three words but the prints on file for Danny Ocean now belong to a 70-year-old Baptist minister in Iowa. Unless he takes to grand larceny, I think it will hold up for a while."

"Couldn't you just have told me? Did we really need to go through this?"

Rusty shrugged. "Wanted to check it out. No good thinking it will work, is it? And it's not like you can wander in and ask."

Danny sighed.

"Look, what are we going to get?" Rusty said. "Slap on the wrist and a fine? We're going to be very, very sorry, aren't we?"


"Obviously not sorry enough."

"Obviously."


"City types." Judge Mathias Harris IV looked them over, taking in Danny's evening dress and lingering on Rusty's green shirt. It seemed to offend him. "Loose-living, fancy-dressing city types. Coming to our town and indulging in disorderly conduct."

"Oh, come on." The words were formed in Rusty's throat. He didn't even move his lips.

The judge sucked his teeth and looked at Danny who was stood in the dock by Rusty's side.

"Guess you think I'm going to give you a fine and let you off."

Well, yeah.

"No, sir," Danny said, wondering if it was a trick question.

"Good. I can't do much to teach you respect for our town, but I can do this. Two days each in our county jail. Case dismissed."

Oh, crap.