Viva Las Vegas (1/?)
By Carol M.
Summary: An assignment takes an undercover Darien and Claire to Las Vegas with Bobby along for the ride. Will the dynamic trio be able to survive the case and each other?
Spoilers: Nothing so far
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: UPN where are u?
Note: This one is a little lighter then the fics I've been writing lately. Lot's of banter, shippiness of the B/C and D/C kind and of course a little good ole fashioned Darien torture (this is me we're talking about after all). So sit back, relax and enjoy the story. And as always, bring a few ropes!
"I-man to Hobbesy, I-man to Hobbesy, come in, over," whispered Darien into the mike of his headset. He was staring at a Mercedes parked in the middle of a downtown alley from his position behind a large dumpster.
"What's your twenty Fawkes?" came the staticky sound of Bobby's voice over the headset.
"Umm, Hobbes, you sure your snitch got this meet right?" asked Darien.
Darien could hear an irritated sigh come through his earpiece. "I'm insulted Fawkes. Hobbesnet doesn't consist of your run of the mill informant, okay," said Bobby. "Each member must pass through a rigorous screening of intelligence and…"
"Okay, okay, I gotcha," interrupted Darien, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "I'm just saying our boy is a little late here."
"Give him time, Fawkes, he'll be there. Trust me," said a confident sounding Bobby through the receiver.
Darien eyed a Cadillac slowly making its way down the alley. "Whoa, whoa, Hobbes, I got someone," he said as he stepped to the edge of the dumpster to get a better look.
"Is it him? Is it him?" Darien heard Bobby anxiously ask.
"I can't tell, I have to get closer," said Darien as he let the cool quicksilver trickle over his skin. He let the disappearing juice completely cover his tall frame and then emerged from behind the dumpster. He walked about ten feet before he excitedly put a hand up to his microphone. "I-man to Hobbesy, we got a ten four on some drug smugglers."
"Easy, just hang back. Don't blow the deal before it goes down," said Bobby.
"Hey, give me some credit here, okay. I know what I'm doing, my friend," whispered Darien as he stepped up to the two cars.
The Mercedes and the Cadillac each had a single driver. From what Darien could tell, both of the drivers were men in their early thirties. The man in the Cadillac casually got out of his car and the Mercedes driver followed suit, nervously hopping out of his own car.
The blonde, heavyset Caddy driver reached into his backseat and pulled out a silver briefcase. He opened it slowly, revealing bags filled with white powder.
"You got the money?" asked the man.
The tall, thin Mercedes driver nodded nervously and reached into his car, pulling out another briefcase. He opened the briefcase and Darien had to fight the urge to whistle in appreciation at the stacks of hundreds lining the metal case. The men each handed their respective briefcases to the other, and each stared in awe at the contents.
"Why do I feel like I'm in the middle of an episode of Miami Vice?" whispered Darien as he reached for the briefcase containing the drugs and quicksilvered it.
Both of the men looked dumbfounded. "What the hell?" said the heavyset man.
"BWM, you're under arrest," said Darien as he reappeared with the briefcase in his hand.
The taller man gave him a startled look and then tore off running to his car. Darien was after him in a flash and tackled the man to the ground. "Hobbes, back up would be nice!" he shouted into his mike as he started to tussle with the perp.
"Way ahead of you Fawkes," came Bobby's voice over the microphone. It was then that Golda appeared at the end of the alleyway, blocking any means of escape.
The other man, who was still staring in shock at the space Darien had appeared from, finally found his feet when he saw the van screeching down the alleyway. He took off in the opposite direction towards a chain link fence.
Bobby was out of Golda in an instant, running after him with his gun drawn. He ran past Darien, who was having a little trouble with the taller man. "Need help there, buddy?" asked Bobby as he ran by.
A punch landed on the side of Darien's face and he was forced against the Mercedes. "No, I got it covered man," said Darien as he dived into the mid-section of the perp and took him to the ground. He punched him in the face and was about to deliver the deathblow to knock him out when the man unexpectedly kicked out at him. The kick caught Darien in the ribs and sent him back into one of the cars. Darien saw stars as his head impacted hard with the side of Mercedes. He came to rest on the ground in a daze, his ears ringing and his head pounding.
The man took his opening and got up, hauling ass towards Golda. Darien shook his head to clear the cobwebs and then picked up the briefcase, which the man had left laying on the ground. Darien threw the briefcase at the perp, catching the man at his feet. The man tripped and fell heavily on the ground. His head impacted hard with the concrete and he was instantly unconscious.
Meanwhile, Bobby was walking back with his own suspect who had been much easier to contain. He led the man to his Cadillac and restrained him with a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket.
"You okay, partner?" asked Bobby with concern as he eyed Darien kneeling on the ground, holding his head.
Darien gave Bobby a blurry-eyed glance and then proceeded to throw up all over the front tire of the Mercedes. "Just peachy," he said when he was finished vomiting. He wiped his mouth and then exhaled in pain as he leaned back against the car and closed his eyes
**
"That briefcase move was beautiful, Fawkesy. I couldn't have done it better myself," said Bobby from his position next to Darien's chair in the Official's office.
Darien, who was leaned back in his chair with an icepack at the back of his head, smiled weakly. "What can I say? I had a good teacher," he responded.
The Official organized a stack of folders on his desk and then looked at Darien and Bobby with a proud gleam in his eye. "Good work, boys. Our drug dealing friends Michaels and McAdams are rolling over on anything that has two legs."
"Nice," said Darien as he took the icepack off his head and set it in his lap. "So what do you say? A little vacation time to reward us for a job well done," said Darien as he shared an encouraging glance with Bobby and then looked at the Official hopefully.
The Official erupted into laughter. "Vacation? Vacation?" he said incredulously. "That's funny, Fawkes. Actually, the reason I called you in here does involve a little road trip."
Bobby cleared his throat and looked at the Official expectantly. "New case, chief?"
"Why yes, it is a new case. Michaels has alerted us to a little event that will be taking place over the next couple of days. A little event in Las Vegas," said the Official.
Darien's head perked up. "We get to go to Las Vegas?" he asked with excitement.
The Official nodded. "It seems that once a year the members of a very elite group of criminals meet at the Star Inn in Vegas to catch up and plan their criminal antics for the new year. And it just so happens that Mr. Michaels was invited for the first time this year due to his impressive showings in the drug dealing industry," said the Official.
"So we're sending in Michaels to lead us to the bigger fish?" asked Bobby.
"Not exactly. The members of this little organization don't know one another. It is an extremely private process and no one knows who is invited. Mr. Michaels has never actually met anyone in the organization," said the Official as he gave Darien a hearty grin. "So, that leaves Fawkes to take his place."
"You're sending me in undercover?" asked Darien.
"Yes. I need you to infiltrate the organization and find out all you can on what kinds of crimes they are planning. If we get enough evidence, we might be able to take down this organization before it goes on another crime spree," said the Official.
"What part am I playing, sir? Back up?" asked Bobby.
"You will be in charge of security for Mr. Michaels and his wife," said the Official.
"Wife?" said Darien with confusion.
At that moment, there was a soft knock on the door.
"Come in," said the Official.
Claire emerged through the door, giving Darien and Bobby a smiling nod. "You wanted to see me, sir?" she asked as she looked at the Official curiously.
"Yes, Ms. Keeply, have a seat," said the Official.
Claire sat down in a chair next to Darien and eyed him with concern. "How's your head?" she asked.
"It's okay," he said absently as he looked from Claire to the Official. A look of realization spread across his face. "Oh no," he said suddenly.
The Official smiled widely. "Oh yes," he said with amusement.
"Oh no," said Bobby from his chair. "Chief, this isn't right. I think if anyone is going to be married to Claire, it should be me," he said in an angry tone.
"Married?" said Claire. "What are you talking about?"
"Your country needs you, Keep," said Darien as he gave her a large grin. "Your country needs us to be married. In Las Vegas."
"I don't think so," said Claire in irritation.
"It's an undercover assignment, doctor. I need you to pose as Darien's moll wife. Strictly window dressing," said the Official.
Bobby cleared his throat. "I ask again, why aren't I the one posing undercover?" asked Bobby.
"Because Fawkes is the one with the gland in his head, not you," said the Official.
"Sir, I don't think that Claire belongs in the field. I mean she could get hurt or something. Why not have Monroe do it?" asked Darien.
"Monroe is on special assignment in Paris and won't be back for another week. We need to move now," said the Official firmly as he pounded his fist against the top of his desk.
"Great," said Darien as he slumped into his chair.
Claire gave Darien a sharp look. "What are you saying, Darien? Are you saying that I can't hold my own in the field?"
"No, that's not what I'm saying, I'm just saying that…"
"He's saying that it could be dangerous," finished Bobby.
Claire puffed out her chest. "Well, danger is my middle name."
"Hmm, funny, I always thought it was Marie," responded Darien.
The Official cleared his throat. "All right, enough. Fawkes, Claire, I need you two to meet with Michaels to get some background information. Hobbes, I need you to pack up the van and get it ready to go," said the Official.
"We're leaving today?" asked Darien.
"Does that not give you enough time to pack your hair products, pal?" said Bobby sarcastically.
"You're just jealous, my friend," said Darien smugly. He stood up and threw the icepack he had been holding onto the Official's desk. He stuck out his hand and looked at Claire expectantly. "Shall we, Mrs. Fawkes?"
"Michaels," corrected the Official.
"Oh right, Michaels," said Darien.
Claire rolled her eyes and stood up, ignoring Darien's hand. "Fine," she said curtly. She walked out the door, with Darien following closely behind.
Bobby gave the Official an annoyed stare before he too stood up from his chair. "This is a big mistake chief. She could be in real danger."
"She'll be fine, Bobby. Now go and bust some bad guys," said the Official.
Bobby gave the Official one last stare and then strutted out of the office, slamming the door angrily behind him.
TBC by Wed.