A/N: In my other story "Hawkeye Needs Leverage" Nate Ford calls Agent Coulson to bail out Hawkeye and the crew, but have you ever wondered how the mastermind got the personal number of a high ranking SHIELD agent? Well, here's the story. hope you like it.
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"Nate, you said I could pick the next client," Parker whined, her hands on her hips.
Nathan Ford groaned and resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. He looked up at the thrift from his seat on the couch. "I did, Parker, but she isn't really our usual type of client. How did you find her anyway?"
Parker just stared at the older man until he threw up his arms in defeat. "Hardison, I need you to find out everything you can about a Miss Darcy Lewis and her missing music thing," he called out to the hacker who had been watching the whole thing with a huge grin. Nate suspected the young man had already known about Parker's plan, and there was no way he'd disagree with the thief. And Sophie would point out how important a request like this was for Parker's development. Nate felt a little outnumbered and yet, no one had said a thing.
"iPod," Parker corrected.
"Whatever," Nate sighed and went looking for a stiff drink.
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"Damnit, Hardison," Elliott swore as he ducked into an empty supply room in what was supposed to be a lightly secured Federal storage facility. "You didn't tell me this was SHIELD." He listened, holding his breath until he heard the pair of guards walk past. He let out the breath in a huff when the men didn't sound an alarm.
"Shit, you sure? I thought it was FBI, all the chatter says FBI," Hardison answered distractedly. Elliot could hear him frantically typing.
"It's the suits. They're very distinctive suits." And the eagle symbols, but that was too obvious and the hitter had a reputation to maintain.
"What's SHIELD?" Parker asked.
"Not now, Parker," Elliot growled. "Nate, we're going to have to change plans. A fire alarm distraction is not going to work for a SHIELD base, and I can't pretend to be a ranking agent from another agency."
Nate hummed thoughtfully. "Alright, come back in. I think I have another idea."
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SHIELD Agent Skyler Fitzgerald felt pretty satisfied with himself. His first solo job, a simple recon on a domestic paramilitary camp that was rumored to have "supernatural help", went off without a hitch and he would be able to report that the target was much less of a threat than their online reputation portrayed them. Agent Sitwell would be pleased.
So he was not expecting anyone inside the little cabin they were using as a safehouse, let alone two people. One was a very intimidating man with long hair and a scowl that rivaled Agent Barton's resting bitch face. The other was a wirey looking blond woman who was playing with the communication equipment that he was sure he had left locked up in the floor safe.
"Um, can I help you?" Agent Fitzgerald asked hesitantly. Neither intruder had attacked him yet, so he was hoping to keep this peaceful.
"We wanted to talk to you about SHIELD," the woman said.
The rookie agent tried to casually reach for his weapon, but he knew the man saw the move based on how his eyes narrowed. "I'm not telling you anything."
The man rolled his eyes. "We're not looking for secrets. We're interested in joining." He glanced at his partner. She nodded slightly. "We're thieves, but things have gotten a little hot lately. We thought SHIELD could use our talents."
Fitzgerald relaxed. "SHIELD does have some flexible hiring practices. But I'm way too far down the totem pole to even give you an offer." He thought about some of the stories he'd heard during training. Yes, most of the agents were recruited from the military or other alphabet agencies, but there were exceptions. The most famous were Agents Barton and Romanoff, and something about these two made him think of those famous names. "I shouldn't do this, but if you are serious about joining, call this number. Agent Coulson recruited me and he has a reputation of bringing in people with unique backgrounds."
The man took the scrap of paper with the hastily scribbled phone number. He nodded and jerked his head at his partner who hopped off the table she had been sitting on through the whole exchange. They left without a word.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Fitzgerald let out the breath he was holding. Damned if he knew how he was going to explain this in his report. At least none of his equipment looked broken or compromised.
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"That was too close," Elliot complained as he tossed the number the rookie had given him at Nate's head. "Recruitment? That was the best you could come up with?"
"It worked didn't it? You got out of there without raising suspicion or fighting," Nate argued, a little too smug about the whole thing.
"Anyone going to say anything about all the work I put in? It's not easy to make a hunting club look like a threat big enough for SHIELD to investigate without going so far they come in guns blazing. It's a fine line, people, and I think I performed admirably," Hardison rambled from behind his computers.
"Did it work?" Parker asked.
The young hacker grinned. "Of course it worked. I inserted a trojan into their system from the comms at the safehouse and created a dummy account so Elliot can walk right in, check out our girl's iPod and walk out without anyone being the wiser. And to be through because, you know that's what I do, I even put in a self-destruct code in there so after we're done, they won't even know they've been hacked," Hardison crowed. "Man, I am good at my job. If this wasn't top secret, I'd be famous for this right here."
Elliot just growled and went to change into the SHIELD uniform they stole.
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Elliot and Hardison sat on the couch, watching the security feed of the bar downstairs where Parker was giving Darcy Lewis back her iPod. Sophie and Nate were sharing a drink behind them, which really meant that Sophie was lecturing and Nate was pretending to listen.
On the screen the girl in a beanie leaped to her feet to give Parker a hug that the thief was obviously uncomfortable with, but she was rolling with it. A pair of ear buds appeared and the two young women leaned in to listen together.
Hardison smiled fondly and held out a fist to the hitter. "We do good work," he said softly.
Elliot rolled his eyes, but his expression was fond when he returned the fist bump. "Yeah, we do."
