Prompt: You're hiring me


There were times when a man has had enough Quinn decided. He paced the conference room holding paper towels to his nose while letting his temper wind down as he did so. It was the third time he'd gotten a Spencer Special in the face since moving to Boston.

His nose couldn't take it anymore.

Neither could he.

A lesser man would cut his losses, break up with his girlfriend, and move.

Quinn was not that and intended on getting his way come hell or high water.

He heard them coming, aware that Eliot probably knew he was there, and rolled a chair in front of the screen banks before sitting down in it. Were he in a better mood, he would've turned to face away from them then spun around for dramatic effect. Quinn wiped off his face as best he could. No need to look like a horror show in front of the girls and make them worry more than they were already going to be.

"Quinn."

"Eliot Spencer."

To spite the other hitter, Quinn put his feet up on the table. Sure, it was uncalled for, but it was also uncalled for when Eliot punched him in the face first then asked questions later. He ignored the glare before waving at the rest of the group. Parker stayed behind Eliot, unsure if Quinn was there on business or not. He didn't blame her for the caution, it was how people in their world survived.

"What can we do for you, Mr. Quinn?" Nate asked. He took a seat across from the other man.

Quinn took a folded piece of paper and slid it across the coffee table.

"You're hiring me," Quinn said. He waited for Nate to unfold the paper before continuing on, "I didn't get paid. It's the third time this has happened. Now I could keep picking up jobs then hope y'all don't show up and ruin my day-"

"Or you could work for us on a more permanent basis," Nate finished. He passed the paper back to Hardison. "Your terms are more than fair."

Quinn recognized that negotiations had begun.

"Wait, you want a salary, hazard pay, dry cleaning stipend, a 401k, travel expenses, overtime...stock options," Hardison read over the list Quinn penned when he'd first gotten to McRory's. "And health benefits."

"And dental," Quinn added. He wanted whatever plan Eliot had. Men like them took great care of their bodies and contrary to popular belief, actually listened to doctors. It was when hospitals were added into the equation things got sticky. Always asking questions they didn't need to about where gunshot wounds came from or why he needed sutures for the fourth time that month. "My sign on bonus is less than current industry price, I'm only asking for what I lost on this job."

"It's six figures, how is that fair?" Hardison asked.

"I could've asked for seven," he said. He glanced over at Sophie, smirking at the breakfast bar next to Parker. She was a good ally to have in negotiations as long as she was on your side. "What do you think, Miss Deveraux?"

"I think you'd make a fine addition to the team," she replied. "It would open us up to more complex cons. Mr. Quinn has quite the hand with engines and some degrees in it if I remember correctly."

"I know my way around a wrench," Quinn said. Several of his aliases had degrees in areas ranging from mechanical engineering to international law. He earned every single one over the years. "Enough to be dangerous."

"Told you we do more than hit things," Eliot said. He looked over at Hardison. "I'm good with Quinn joining the team, it'll keep me from kicking his ass every other week."

"Me three!" Parker shouted. She waved her hand in the air. "That means the majority wants Quinn on the team."

"Can't argue with the majority rule. I've seen you throw down, it's cool with me if you join the team," there was something in Hardison's tone which made Quinn realize he'd been had.

"You planned this," he stated to Nate.

"Ever since you walked into McRory's," the mastermind said. He was smug, had every right to be since he saw the moves which brought Quinn to this very place at the right time months ago. Quinn respected the man, only slightly, and like Eliot, he thought the amount of alcohol Nate consumed could be a dangerous outlier. For now, he'd let it slide. "You'll also be paid retroactively from the first job we messed up for you. As a gesture of goodwill."

"Sounds fine, Mr. Ford. Do I get a company car too?" He couldn't help but needle just a little to save some face.

"Boston has excellent public transportation."