I apologize profusely for the extreme amount of time with which it has taken me to get this chapter up. I literally just arrived back in the states from two weeks in German and am jet-legged and getting sick. Also before that, I was at my favorite place in the world, the sleep away camp I have been going to since I was seven. I now go for a four week session. At camp there is minimally to no contact with world outside of the "camp bubble" other than letters from people.

diavoloduchessa: i prefer the chapter I have up currently as well, the other one, well it kinda sorta, maybe just a little sucked. I tried to make the guys reaction funny and its good to know you think I succeed. Love the story behind the name, I'm part Italian as well, not that you could tell if you met me...oh well...

Disclaimer: I still don't own Ocean's 11 nor the Bourne series nor the book to which I allude to (if you can guess which line is the allusion and to which book you get a virtual cookie). I do however now own two braces for one's left wrist, both of which have been obtained in the last two months...

Okay, so in this chapter I tried to get into Linus/Jason's head a little and I don't know how that turned out. I also have mixed feelings about the ending so please tell me what you think of both. Again, I apologize for the lateness of this chapter and any rambling that happens in this note or the one at the bottom (thankfully I wrote this chapter and part of the next two earlier so rambling was avoided). The rambling is due to my jetleg...damn bulkhead seats, I hate them...okay, sorry rambling, here's the friggin chapter, enjoy...

Previously…

Their rescuer, aka, the youngest team member aka friend aka Linus freakin' Caldwell looked over at them, then at the blood stain on his shoulder. Then in a perfectly calm, relaxed voice, as if taking down evil Russians was a daily occurrence, said,

"Well," he nonchalantly pulled back the shoulder of his shirt and revealed the white bandaged wrapped around his shoulder with a growing red stain in the middle, "I guess I tore my stitches

Similarities, tourniquets and hissy fits

Linus Caldwell had never done well being the center of attention. He was a pickpocket; if the attention was on him then he was doing something wrong. Since he started with working with Danny and Rusty and the other guys, he had gotten better about it but still, loads of attention on him made him nervous.

Jason Bourne did not like being the center of attention either. As an assassin, attention meant witnesses, which meant officials would show up, which meant he could potentially get caught, which meant he'd end up in the system, which meant… a lot of annoying, inconvenient, stuff. Also, attention was just something he didn't like, probably because Linus didn't.

These facts made it rather uncomfortable for the pickpocket/assassin as he stood in the hotel room, blood oozing from his shoulder (only the front thankfully, the back stitches were still intact) his friends (he hoped they still considered him their friend despite the rather large bit of information he had kept from them) staring at him.

He opened his mouth to say something, only to make the mistake of raising his arm; pain shot through his arm, and instead of any words, a pained cry escaped his lips. White spots danced in front of his eyes and in his mind he scolded himself, with all the time he had spent living a normal(er) life had lowered his pain threshold.

It used to be, to quote Nicky, "Less of a threshold and more of a large and tastefully decorated foyer". Now it was a threshold, just a very, very large one.

A series of shouts, some his name, some simply kid, reached his ears just as he felt eight people crowd around him, a couple of hands settled on his back, but he didn't flinch away, he trusted these guys with his life.

"Linus, are you okay?" He didn't know who said it but the concern was evident and relief sparked in him as he realized they weren't mad at him.

"Do you think I'm okay?" he pressed his right hand against his shoulder, ignoring the increase in pain and the blood leaking between his fingers.

Turk (apparently he was the one who had spoken) looked annoyed but shrugged it off. Livingstone spoke next, "Y-yo-you really sh-should sit d-down."

Linus gave a one-shouldered shrug, "I'm fine," and then tried to walk forward. Almost immediately the vertigo that came from blood loss hit and he would have dropped to the ground had it not been for all eight men to reach out a steady him, unfortunately both Basher and Virgil jarred his shoulder so, of course the pain flared out and the white spots made a reappearance and Linus stumbled again, "Shit!"

Both Basher and Virgil jerked their hands back, "Sorry!"

The eight men lead/pushed Linus to a chair and Livingstone piped up again, "Sh-shouldn't we to-tourniquet your arm or so-something?"

"Ah no." Linus seemed to flinch at the very idea, "That would most likely resolve in the loss of my arm."

Livingstone looked horrified at the idea.

"Then what should we do?"

Linus looked up trying to keep the incredulity he was feeling off his face, "Stopping the bleeding would probably be a good place to start."

The eight men looked embarrassed at not thinking of that.

"Well, how are we supposed to do that?"

"You guys aren't going to do anything to stop the bleeding," a famine voice came from the door and the guys turned around to see a petite, pretty brunette standing in the doorway.

"And who are you?" Saul spoke up for the group.

"Linus's girlfriend." Danny and Rusty came up behind the girl, "Jeez, Linus you really know who to make a mess of a place."

Linus glared, "shut up."

The two exchanged glances, "I'd say make me but…"

The girl laughed and finished for them, "He could."

"And will." Linus glared at them again.

"Will someone please explain what the bloody hell is going on?" Basher blurted out, "A bunch of Commies just tried to kill us, Linus turned into a sodding ninja and," he gestured to the girl, "I don't know who the sodding hell you are!"

The girl smiled sweetly, "Calling them Commies is politically incorrect and insulting," Basher opened his mouth to say another highly politically incorrect and insulting comment but the girl cut him off, "My name's Nicky, and well, I'll let Jason, whoops I mean Linus, explain what just happened."

"Nicky!" Linus snapped at her "accidentally" slip of the tongue but Nicky ignored it.

"Wait, Jason?"

Nicky smiled sweetly again but the mischievous glint in her eye sparkled, "Well, when I first meet him he went but the name Jason B-"

"Nicky!" Linus cut her off sharply, "let me explain." Nicky opened her mouth to say something, "After I get my shoulder re-stitched." Seeing the protests starting to form on her lips Linus added, "Please?"

Nicky sighed but came over any way, the medical kit in her hands, "Fine."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Turk blocked Nicky's path, which caused the women to raise an eyebrow, "Why don't you explain now?" Despite his blocking of Nicky's path, the question was directed towards Linus.

"I'd prefer to not have to get a blood transfer." Linus responded, seemingly calm but Nicky noticed the tense line of his shoulders, as much as Linus trusted these guys, Jason's training was popping up telling him to not let anyone get between him and Nicky.

Turk opened his mouth again but Nicky cut him off exasperatedly, "Okay buddy, two things. First, I'm trained to fight, beat and subdue men up to three times bigger than me; I'm not as good of a fighter as say Linus, but taking you down, that I could do without breaking a sweat. Secondly, Linus is your friend right?" she didn't wait for an answer, instead kept plowing ahead, irritation making her voice gain volume, "Well, he got shot, then had to have the bullet removed, not by a doctor but by me in a friggin bar. Next he hops on a bike, leaving me and the rest of your friends behind of course, and saves you\ asses from Russian assassins, now he's bleeding and already has lost a substantial amount of blood, if he loses much more, he's likely to go into shock. The amount of blood he has lost would have already made most people go into shock ergo, he's close to toeing the line of massive blood loss, which is fatal by the way, so I suggest you MOVE YOUR ASS OUT OF MY WAY!"

Turk moved.

So? what do ya think? Good? Bad? Ugly? Do I need to hit myself with the frying pan of creativity a few time? Or should I pat myself on the back? ... Or should I just shut up and work on the next chapter ...yeah I was thinking the latter was the best choice as well...please review, it helps me from needing the frying pan of creativity (aka- fpoc) thanks guys!

As always,
Until next time

Kebakira
QK (sideways ninja!)