Fitz rubbed at his ear in annoyance, removed his earbud, and tossed it onto the table in front of him. "Tha's the third time we've gone after the necklace. I think we need a new plan." And new comms, he added to himself, but he didn't want to insult Skye's design. He resolved to make his own as soon as he had time.
"Yeah, well, now they've seen all our faces," Skye said as she spun around in the chair at the head of the table.
"And whose fault was tha'?"
"Not mine. You were on lookout duty this time," she pointed out to him with a tilt of her head before she spun again. "We're lucky you're still not burned."
"Girl, you're making me dizzy," Trip joked, trying to diffuse the tension as he reached out and grabbed one of the armrests to get her to stop, sinking into the lawn chair next to her.
Fitz didn't say anything, just ran a hand over his face and sat on the milk crate on the floor before covering his face completely with both hands.
He had the fleeting thought that he should invest in real furniture for this apartment, but then again, they weren't even supposed to have been in this city for this long. He hated this place. San Francisco with its old fashioned trolleys and its hills and its historical buildings. It would have been a great place to take a vacation instead of trying to repeatedly steal a necklace from a millionaire who kept moving it around for cleanings and appraisals and seemingly every other reason under the sun.
"Maybe we're goin' at this all wrong," the fourth member of their crew said. Lance was sitting in the folding chair on the other side of the card table, his feet propped up.
"Says the inside man who was I. as a thief," Skye sing-songed.
Fitz peeked over the tips of his fingers to see Lance roll his eyes and Trip place his hand warningly on Skye's forearm.
"Lance's right," Trip said softly. "If we're going to finish the job, we need a new player, someone they don't know."
"I might know someone," Skye remarked casually running her hand over Trip's. "But you're not gonna like her." She addressed the final statement to Lance. "She was trained by the Mockingbird."
There was a pause where Fitz and Trip both leaned back, their eyes darting back and forth between their teammates. Fitz chewed on his lip, unsure how Lance would react to that bit of news.
"Absolutely not." He slammed his boots onto the floor. "You know how I feel about that hellbeast! She turned on us during the job in Rio and it took me three days to get enough cash to find a boat back to the States!"
"You know anyone else who's actually in town that we haven't pissed off?" Skye challenged.
The groan that Lance let out while dropping his head to the surface of the table was all the answer they needed.
-o-
Skye was giggling from the next room, full on giggling. Fitz would have thought she was talking to a mark if she wasn't on her real phone instead of one of the dozen burners they kept stashed in the kitchen.
"Thanks, babe. I owe you one."
Fitz and Trip both raised an eyebrow at one another from their respective places on the living room floor, if it could even be called a living room since all it had in it was a futon that had seen better days. Trip shrugged, so Fitz went back to following the water line on the map in front of him with his finger. He'd bit the bullet and requested building permit plans from the city office instead of relying on the maps and blueprints Skye had hacked into. He didn't tell anyone his water main knowledge came from a random woman in a McDonald's loo. He wouldn't live it down.
Skye plopped down onto the futon, kicking her legs up just over Fitz's head as she stretched out along the cushion.
"Watch it," he cautioned.
"She's in."
"Who?" Fitz asked just as Trip said, "that's my girl."
"She has a condition though," Skye continued, ignoring both of them as Lance came in with a six pack of beer and a box of pizza.
"Of course she has a bloody condition," he muttered, dropping the containers unceremoniously onto the floor as he sat.
"She doesn't believe you're all as good as I say."
Fitz sat up and crossed his arms, somewhat offended. "Did you tell her abou' the Boston job? Or the one at the vacation home?"
"Yes. And I told her I'd never sign up with a crew unless I knew what they could do." Skye heaved a dramatic sigh. "She said the same thing. She wants proof."
"She wants us to pull a job for her?" Trip asked, crossing his own arms, his expression skeptical.
"Not exactly." Skye grinned. "It's more of a test. She's going to this party tonight. Some charity is hosting it." She waved her hand, indicating that wasn't the important part. "She'll be there working the room. She said if you guys can steal more than she can tonight, and she can't I.D. you before we meet up, then she's in. Obviously, I'm on comms so I don't give her away since I'm the only one who actually knows her."
"Three against one?" Lance twisted open a beer with a smug grin. "She's cocky. I like it." He took a swig from the bottle. "Obviously, three against one is no challenge for us. Sounds good." He took another swig. "Wait staff or guest?" He asked Trip, pointing his bottle at him, then at Fitz.
"Do they have valet parking?" Trip asked with a grin. "People leave all kinds of stuff in their cars."
"Guest," Fitz answered.
An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Fitz's stomach. This whole thing seemed too good. Who willingly went up against three thieves for competition? Granted, Fitz was the only one of them besides Skye who was an accomplished pickpocket. Lance was better at getting women to give him things. Trip tended to go for safes and artwork. But still… how could one woman expect to take on a whole team and come out on top?
-o-
Fitz pretended to sip from the glass of champagne in his hand while he maneuvered by a group of ladies. He feigned a trip, apologizing as he bumped into them, dropping a diamond tennis bracelet and a mother of pearl broach into his pocket as he kept going. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lance flirting with a woman as he served her shrimp puffs. The woman glanced over her shoulder at what Fitz assumed was her husband, then discreetly tucked a room key into Lance's pocket.
Fitz huffed in frustration and took an actual drink of his champagne. An occupied hotel suite wasn't going to earn them any pull with their mystery thief. A woman passed by him with clips in her hair that had real sapphires on them though, and he smiled into his glass. Now, that would be an impressive lift.
He managed to get three of the five. He didn't want to risk the other two and have someone notice they were missing.
After two hours at the event, he piled into the back of the van with Trip as Lance crawled into the front seat, complaining about having to wear a tie.
"Man, it's a clip-on. It's not hurting you," Trip reminded him as he reached forward and yanked the accessory from Lance's collar.
Fitz laughed at the expression of outrage on Lance's face.
"I'll have you know, my pain was very real." He reached into the breast pocket of the white blazer he was wearing, but Skye shook her head.
"Keep all your stuff in your pockets. We'll pool it all when we get there."
"Where are we going?" Fitz asked her, his fingers flipping the pendant that had been dangling from one of the pieces of jewelry he'd lifted over and over. It was carved to look like an ancient gold coin, a fancy letter J inscribed in the middle of the circle. He kind of liked it.
"There's a pink house, just outside of the city. Mansion land. She's staying there." Skye gave the vaguest of responses while she gunned the engine. "Bad news is she made two of you though."
Lance turned around and pointed at Trip and Fitz accusingly just as Trip did the same to he and Fitz.
Fitz threw his hands up in the air, only just remembering to slide the bracelet back in his pocket. "I blended." He shook his head and slouched down in the seat. "I miss the days when it was all disarmin' security systems an' forgin' art."
"You're not even that old, mate. When was that all you did? When you were five?" Lance chuckled at his own idea of a joke and the rest of the ride went by in silence.
-o-
It wasn't until Skye was hacking her way into the keypad at the community gate that Trip let out a low whistle. The community only had a handful of houses in it, spread far apart with pools, marble statues, and gravel drives.
"Next job, we should definitely look into staying in a neighborhood like this," Skye remarked as the gate opened and she eased the van down the road, all the way to the end of the neighborhood, where a pink house stood like a beacon.
"You weren't kidding about the pink," Lance remarked as the van came to a stop. "It's the color of pepto bismol."
"I kind of dig it," Trip told them. "A house that color, everyone knows it's yours. No one ever gets lost. And no one's gonna drop in by accident."
"It's conspicuous," Fitz muttered. "Conspicuous is dangerous in our line of work."
"Unless you're conning a guy by pretending to be royalty or something. Which she's done. Twice." Skye cut the engine and opened her door.
"No way. Royalty is the hardest con to pull these days," Fitz argued as the rest of them got out of the van. "Everyone pays attention to the royal family. You can't do it."
"I'm telling you, she did. She pretended to be a Duchess. Got into a film festival for free and got out with more than 500k in jewelry and clothes. She was the Lady of some place in North England for an entire summer. Dude bought her a winery as a birthday present. She cleaned up."
"She pretended to have Shakespeare's lost manuscript, didn't she? Forged a Monet too?" Lance asked.
"How did you know?" Skye whirled on him.
"No." Lance stopped short in the middle of the gravel drive shaking his head. "No, no, no. Absolutely not."
"Oh, God. You didn't sleep with her, did you?" Skye smacked him on the shoulder. "You have to stop sleeping with all the best grifters!"
"Ow!" Lance shoved Skye's arm away from him. "And no! That's…" He shuddered and began muttering to himself as he marched ahead of them to the front door, not bothering to knock, just turning the knob and barreling right on through.
"What the hell is his problem?" Trip wondered aloud.
Skye didn't answer, too busy running to catch up. "Don't be an ass, Lance!" She yelled after him.
Fitz and Trip hurried after them, entering into the house, whose real owners were clearly on some sort of extended vacation judging by how well things were covered up by plastic sheeting as they played a strange game of follow-the-leader while Lance led them down the main hall, sticking his head in each doorway he passed.
"Where the bloody hell are you?" He finally yelled with something of a growl, hands on his hips.
"Kitchen," an altogether too calm and posh voice responded. "You're almost there."
Fitz's mouth went dry.
He was pretty sure he'd heard that voice before. He almost didn't want to follow the others just around the corner ahead and into the kitchen, hanging back and chewing on his lip until they were all in the room without him. He sucked in a breath and took the final steps to round the corner to see the very same woman from the McDonald's toilet perched on the counter in a very appealing blue dress, a glass of red wine in her hand.
"What took you so long?" She asked, setting the wine glass down on the counter. "I've been waiting for nearly an hour."
"I wanted to give the boys enough time to get a good haul," Skye told her with a grin.
"Skye, honestly. You know at events like that you should be in and out in less than 60 minutes so no one notices the missing pieces."
"Hey, I was just the driver." She shrugged, grin still in place.
"All right then. Let's see what you've brought me." The woman flipped her curls over one shoulder and daintily dropped down to the floor, revealing a modest pile of jewelry and credit cards she'd lifted behind her. She was barefoot and her toes were painted a deep plum. Fitz tried not to stare, but his eyes kept working up and down her body. It was a good look. He had thought she was pretty before, but now? His fingertips drummed on his thighs for something to do, working out his nervous energy without drawing attention to himself.
"Oh, no. We are not working with you." Lance pointed one finger at her accusingly, pulling himself up to his full height.
Fitz thought it would have been more intimidating if he wasn't the same height as the woman.
"Are you still upset because you got caught with that counterfeit money and I got away?" She asked him incredulously. "That was ages ago!"
"You cost me a yacht."
"I was sixteen!" She rolled her eyes.
"And a private plane."
"Oh, please. You never would have got the plane. Victoria was on to you by that point."
"Because of you!"
"No, because you wouldn't listen to me."
"You were a baby. You had no business doing the drop. I had to."
"Yes, and that worked out so well for you, didn't it?"
"It's like bloody Christmas dinners all over again."
There was a pause.
"I feel like we're missing something here," Trip joked. "Just a hunch."
"Yeah… care to fill us in?" Skye glanced back and forth between the two annoyed Brits.
"You mean to tell me you didn't know she's my sister?" Lance shot back.
Skye gave him a look that clearly said would I have accused you of sleeping with her if I did?
"Step sister. Jemma," Jemma said to them with a smile. "Well, at least, it's Jemma for you. Two weeks ago it was Simone. I liked that one. At work this week, it's Jennifer." She caught Fitz's eye and her smile widened. "Hello. You clean up very nicely, by the way."
-o-
Jemma watched as Fitz swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. She realized a second too late that maybe she shouldn't have let on that they'd met before. He was probably a little embarrassed about the ceiling mishap.
"Thank you?' His voice came out somewhat sarcastic. She couldn't tell if he was angry with her for the comment, or pouring out the sarcasm for her brother's benefit, or if it was something else entirely.
"I saw you, you know," she told him, taking a step closer and covering up her blunder. "The way you got those hair clips? That was impressive. I've never seen someone pull off a lift like that." She shook her head, trying not to look like an overeager school girl. "Could you teach me?"
Skye tried to cover up a laugh and it came out like something of a snort, making Fitz look away from Jemma to the rest of the team. Jemma's smile faltered, but only for a moment.
"Nobody's teaching you anything. My team isn't working with you," Lance snapped.
"Your team?" Skye echoed. "Pretty sure I didn't put you in charge. Trip?"
"Nope. He's definitely not in charge." Trip put his hands in his pockets and began pulling out the items he'd plucked from the cars he'd parked, his way of getting the meeting back on track, Jemma assumed. There were several rolls of bills, cash pulled from emergency funds in glove compartments and center consoles, a few pairs of earrings that appeared to be real pearls, and a small bottle of a rare whisky. Skye had mentioned that he was very quick at searching for hidden compartments. He had apparently been trained by one of the greats, a man she only knew as The Director, and said man had a thing for secret doors.
Jemma nodded her head. "Not bad. For just going through cars." She raised her eyebrows at her brother in a challenge, and he emptied his pockets onto the kitchen counter. Half a dozen room keys and phone numbers hastily scrawled on cocktail napkins emerged first and Jemma rolled her eyes.
"What?" Lance grumbled defensively, "I'm more of a long con kind of guy." He added watches and necklaces and diamond rings to the counter, but his haul was still a relatively small one. Even combined, it was clear the two of them hadn't surpassed hers.
She gestured for Fitz to walk forward, and when he brushed against her side to get closer to the counter, she gripped the edge with one hand and smiled encouragingly at him. She didn't need to see the things he pulled from his pockets to know that he was far ahead of the others. She'd seen him back at the event first. In fact, she hadn't been able to take her eyes off him most of the time that she was there. She had been increasingly impressed with his skills throughout the night, blending into the background and effortlessly unclasping bracelets and watches with one hand, his fingers skimming cufflinks and into pockets to retrieve wallets. He was quick, thorough, unassuming, and far too attractive for his own good. She had thought his awkward hanging from the ceiling was adorable, but his pickpocketing was another matter entirely.
"Holy shit, Fitzy," Skye exclaimed, moving forward as he emptied the contents of his jacket and trouser pockets onto the marble, the pile growing by the second. "Where the hell did you hide all this?"
Fitz shrugged as if it was no big deal. Maybe to him it wasn't. He had a gift.
Jemma smiled down at the swirling black and grey color of the counter now covered in bits and bobs of gold and silver. She picked up one of the hairclips with the sapphires encrusted over it and ran her finger along the edge. It had been a truly impressive act to watch him reach up and pluck the clips on a few passes by the older woman, slipping them in his pocket while he sipped champagne. How he managed to do it without disturbing her hair, without a single pull, was a mystery to her. He must have had the lightest touch of any pickpocket she'd ever seen. It made her head spin. She wondered why he had been the one sent into air ducts if he was that good.
"Well," Jemma told them. "I think this will do nicely." She nodded her head. Lance was still scowling and Trip was curiously picking his way through the wallets that Fitz had grabbed, but Skye was watching her with raised eyebrows.
"So, you're in?"
"You're in charge?" Jemma asked her before glancing in Lance's direction.
"I can kick your brother off the team if you need me to. We only need him as a honey trap usually, and he's no good to me this time."
"Hey!"
"Okay, yes," Skye amended, "sometimes he's the muscle too. But I've got Trip for that."
Lance crossed his arms over his chest, looking like a child about to be placed in timeout.
"No, I don't have a problem working with him. It's been ten years since we pulled a job together. I'll be fine." Jemma winced as he strode angrily from the room.
"I'll handle him," Skye promised her. "Trip, call your guy to see if he's interested in any of this so we can split up the cash. We might need some of this for new equipment too." She gestured to the counter. "Fitz, since Jemma seems to like you so much, you fill her in." She hurried after Lance, her face set in hard lines.
Jemma waited expectantly, watching Fitz while Trip pretended he wasn't paying any attention to them and began organizing their spoils on the kitchen counter. Fitz had one hand in his pocket and he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, seemingly nervous. She cleared her throat, and he seemed to remember that he was supposed to be talking to her.
"Right - erm - A client hired Skye to retrieve a family heirloom," Fitz started and Jemma nodded, hands clasped in front of her as she listened attentively, watching his mouth form the words and his eyes dart around the room, not looking at her. "'s a diamond necklace tha' this woman's grandmother got as a gift." He shrugged. "Story's no' important, I guess. But it was stolen years ago, and she found it. Custom made, so she's sure." He pulled his phone from his pocket, fingers dancing across the screen until he brought up an image of one of the ugliest pieces of jewelry Jemma had ever seen, but she nodded again. "The man who has it, he's an antiquities dealer."
"Ah, a legitimate thief. So many dealers get their wares on the black market. If only people knew." Jemma nodded again as Fitz swiped to the next picture. "Sunil Bakshi? He's your target?"
"You know him?"
Jemma's smile widened and she linked her arm through Fitz's without thinking about it. "Oh, Fitz. I think this could be a mutually beneficial relationship." Trip coughed from the counter. "Working relationship, of course," Jemma added with a roll of her eyes, pulling Fitz along with her. "Let me show you something."
He stumbled along with her into the dining room where she had a file full of photographs spread out across the surface of the table. She pointed to one photo in particular that contained a small statue of a cat carved out of jade.
"What's this, then?" Fitz asked.
"That is what I was hired to… retrieve from him. Also a family heirloom. Also stolen."
"Bakshi certainly gets around."
"Yes. He does that." Jemma pulled her arm from his to cross hers over her chest. "I was just going to swipe it. I've been working in his office as a one of their phone operators. Disguised, of course, so he won't know me if I run into him. But he's got it under heavy lock and key. It's at least a two person job. He has too many vaults, and the statue isn't on any of his official acquisitions lists. I imagine you've run into the same difficulties with the necklace."
"Yeah. He's been movin' it around for appraisals. We think he's gettin' ready to sell it. Trip an' Skye got made by his security team on surveillance. Lance tried to get intel from one o' his exes, so he's burned too. I was lucky no one caught me in the vents."
"So… it's just you and me then? On the front end?"
"Looks like."
Jemma cleared her throat and tried to tamp down on her nerves. They had to get not one, but two items, from the same man who already knew that the majority of the team was shady. And they didn't even know where the things were right now. "Do you have a plan?"
"We're workin' on it."
"I suppose I should just keep working and keep my head down then?"
"Yep."
Fitz put his hands back in his pockets and Jemma heard the jangling of what sounded like keys. She cocked her head to the side with a smile. "Did you hold something back?" She took a step closer to him. "Keeping something for yourself?"
Wordlessly he pulled his left hand from his pocket and opened his fist, palm up. Sitting in it was the delicate chain with the antique coin charm in the middle, a J carved into it. Jemma sucked in a breath and looked down at her ankle. She was so used to the weight of it, she hadn't even noticed it was missing, even when she kicked off her heels.
"When did you-"
"You were at the bar, watchin' Lance, and I had just bumped a guy for his watch. I bent down to 'pick up my keys' when you were lookin' the other way so you wouldn't see me. I jus'..." He trailed off. "I wasn't sure i' was goin' to be you, but I thought -"
"You were going to try and track me down after all? If I wasn't Skye's contact?" She watched him chew on his lip and added, "You must not run into too many women while you're upside down."
"No." Fitz let out an awkward chuckle. "Not one who tries to give me another way to break into a buildin'."
"Right." Jemma laughed as well. She reached forward and took the anklet from his outstretched hand, allowing her fingertips to linger over his palm. "Well, I'm looking forward to working with you."
-o-