This chapter is dedicated to InSilva and Carl Reiner. Rest in peace.

I own nothing to do with Ocean's 11.

TW: Character death. Sad chapter today. Why do I continue to kill off characters? Guess I just like torturing you guys. If anyone's reading. Which reminds me, I would really appreciate reviews or PM's! The quality of these ficlets aren't great and I'd be really grateful for some helpful criticism.

Everyone had known Saul was going to hit the bucket sooner or later. Frank had already gone, and Saul was 97, it was inevitable. Didn't make it any easier when it happened.

Rusty had gotten the call at 8:00 A.M. that morning. He and Danny had been getting started on jam factory heist plans when his mobile started ringing. Danny was just finishing copying down the blueprints of the bottling sector when he saw Rusty's face turn white. He knew it was something serious, because there was hardly a moment when Rusty didn't keep a straight face. Then, his mouth was a thin line, his eyebrows knitting themselves together.

"What?" Danny had asked, worriedly.

" Saul ." Rusty mouthed, a single tear glistening in the corner of his eye. Rusty never cried.

Danny had hid his head in his hands, before embracing Rusty, listening in to the rest of Rusty's conversation on the phone. Saul's girlfriend, Marcy, was tearfully explaining what had happened.

She had gone up to check on Saul, as he was late to come down to breakfast (Danny was surprised they weren't sleeping together, but then, they had just moved in together, and apparently Marcy wasn't ready to take the next step, so he kept his thoughts to himself (and Rusty (but does that even count?))) and almost never slept in. She had walked in to find him still and cold in his bed, lifeless. Old age. He had died peacefully, in his sleep. Danny wasn't sure if that was a relief or not. One the one hand, Saul should have a memorable death, he was a con man, after all. On the other hand, Danny was glad it had been painless. Saul deserved a painless death. After all the pain they had caused him. Danny lowered his head.

Rusty was still talking to Marcy on the phone, mostly listening to her sobbing and babbling about how amazing Saul was and how much she was going to miss him. Danny was tempted to tell her to save it for the funeral, but stopped himself. She probably loved him too. For some reason that made him angrier.

When Marcy finally hung up, thanking Rusty for the conversation (even though Rusty had hardly said a word), Rusty steadily got up, face blank, and started walking towards his bedroom door.

"Rusty?" Danny asked. No answer. "Rusty?" He tried again. No answer. "Hey." He jumped to his feet and started towards Rusty. The other man quickened his pace, practically jogging through the doorway and shutting the door behind him. Danny slid down the door and hugged his knees. A surge of anger rose inside of him. Danny loved Saul, too. It wasn't just Rusty. How could Rusty shut him out like that? Danny was grieving, too. He let his tears fall, and he buried his head in his knees. They quickly got wet. Danny hardly noticed, in his whirlwind of pain, sadness and fury. He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

Rusty was sitting with his back to the door, knees pulled close to his chest. He knew shutting Danny out like that wasn't fair, but he needed to be alone. Fucking Marcy. She didn't know him like they did.

He buried his head in his knees, letting the tears fall. He didn't know, but he was almost symmetrical to Danny on the other side of the door. He distantly wondered if the rest of the Benedict crew knew yet. Basher had gotten closer to Saul in the last few years, Rusty wouldn't have been surprised if he was the next person Marcy had called. He knew he should probably spread the word. They would want to know. He just couldn't bring himself to do anything but sit. Saul was dead. Saul was dead and Rusty hadn't apologized. He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. And now Saul was dead and Rusty thought of all the things he could have done to show Saul how much he meant to him. He thought of all the things he had done that hurt Saul. Saul was dead, and Rusty felt as if it was somehow all his fault.

Basher was a bloody mess. Anyone could've told you that. Tears everywhere, undignified noises emitting him every so often, pressing himself into the wall in his closet, he was fucking messiness embodied.

It was just so hard for him to believe that Saul was gone. Saul had always seemed invincible. Not as much as Danny or Rusty, no, but still, Basher had always thought of him rather like a statue. Stoic, strong and impossible to move.

Except Saul was dead. He had been moved. Basher was, frankly, stunned. Sure, Saul had been old, but Basher hadn't really thought much about Saul's mortality. He had never really thought much about Saul going. And now it was too late, and he hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

He thought back to the last time he'd seen Saul. It was at Yen's birthday party. Yes, Yen was the age where it was a little weird to be having full-blown birthday parties, but really, Yen was a little kid at heart, and the clearing had been full of balloons, cake, presents, a trampoline and an actual fucking elephant. Basher was just glad Yen or the Malloy's hadn't thought to put the elephant on the trampoline.

There had been chairs set up in the shade, overlooking the chaos Yen, Turk, Virgil, Linus and Rusty were making. Linus had started out sitting with the mature people, but eventually was too tempted by the parrots to stay and pretend to be an adult. Which he technically was now, Basher had realised with a jolt. Blimey, this kid was growing up fast.

Saul had been laughing, eyes twinkling at some joke Danny had told, and it had seemed like the world would last forever. Like Saul would last forever. He didn't.

Basher hadn't been too fond of Saul when they first met, and after. He had seemed kind of standoff-ish, and privileged. White and conservative. And when he walked away after the Benedict job, that had really given Basher a disliking for the man. But he came back, and after Basher had gotten to know him more, he had become more friendly and funny. Caring.

Someone was going to have to spread the word. Basher knew it should be him, as Danny and Rusty had been closer to Saul and were the only others Marcy had called, but Basher wasn't up for it at the moment, and Danny and Rusty were so untouchable and effortless that they were probably doing better than he was. Yeah, he'd at least wait a bit, and then see if they'd taken care of it. They usually took care of everything anyway, and did a bloody good job. He'd leave it to them.

30 minutes later, and Basher had more or less gotten himself under control. He dialed Danny's number, it ringing a few times before Danny picked up.

"Hey, Bash." He sounded tired, but that was expected.

"Hey, Danny. Um, I was wondering if you've told the others? Or if you'd like me to do that instead." He offered. When Danny responded, Basher could hear his voice slightly wobble.

"Uh, y-yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

"Okay, well, I'd better be on that, but I'm always here if you need to t-" He was cut off by Danny.

"Thanks for the offer. See you." The phone beeped, signaling that Danny had hung up, and Basher sighed. Well, he had tried.

Reuben had been finishing up his breakfast when his phone started ringing. He glanced at it, curiously. Basher Tarr. Huh. Reuben hadn't heard from Basher in a while, not since Yen's party, three months ago. He picked up.

"Um, hey Reuben." Basher's voice sounded wrong.

"Hey Basher, haven't heard from you in a while." He swallowed the feeling, until Basher spoke again and Reuben knew something was seriously off.

"Yeah, I- I wish it was on better terms. Reuben, S-" Reuben listened to the sound of sobs on the other end of the phone. "Saul's dead." Basher choked out. Reuben thought Basher was saying something else, but he couldn't really understand it. No...

Unfortunately, it was true.

Saul was dead. Reuben blew his nose. He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

Livingston was working on hacking into the computer system at a factory when his phone started ringing. It was Basher. Maybe there was a change of plans for the job.

"What's up, Bash?"

"Saul's dead." Livingston's eyes widened.

"No shit. On a job?"

"No, i- in his sleep." Well, that was good. Livingston quickly wiped his eyes.

"I know you were very close to him. If- if you want me to finish telling people, I can."

"That'd be great, Livingston, thank you." Livingston heard Basher sniffle over the line, before he hung up. Livingston sighed and rubbed his face. He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

Linus was shocked when Livingston had told him. It wasn't that he thought Saul would never die, but he just hadn't really thought about it at all.

They should do something for him. A funeral, except more exciting. A con man's funeral. Yeah, that sounded about right. Like what they had done for Frank, except Saul-ier. Less nail polish, more quiet. Linus picked his phone back up and dialed.

Turk and Virgil hadn't said a word since Livingston had hung up. They should have timed it. It was probably a new record.

It had been about an hour or so later when Basher had called.

"Basher?"

"Hey, guys, um, well, Linus was thinking that maybe we should do a thing for Saul, and, uh, it would be great if you two could help us out?"

"Sure."

"Absolutely."

"Great, okay, um, we'll be needing a campfire pit, in a field, if you can, colored paper, blue fizzing fire starters and uh... a turtle. Thanks a lot, fellows, and uh, it's next Tuesday so if you could get them to me by Monday that would be best. Thanks!" Basher hung up. Turk looked at Virgil and Virgil looked at Turk. Okay...

Those weren't the weirdest things they had ever been asked to get.

"There was that time in Belize, where we had to get the casket, five barrels of Neosporin, a whiteboard and Julia Child's apron."

"And that time in Dar Es Salaam, when we had to get 51 mattresses."

"And in Moscow, where we had to get 30 scones and then found out Rusty just asked for them so he could eat them."

"Wait, which time in Moscow with the 30 scones for Rusty?"

"Um, the second, but I think they all apply, dumb ass."

"Who are you calling a dumb ass?"

"You! Because they're all the same, so does it matter?"

"I was just making sure, but since you so obviously don't care about my interests or questions, I guess I'll just go get a fire pit!"

"Okay! You do that!"

"I am! What are you, blind?"

"What are you, stupid?"

"Now you're just making no sense."

"I'm making no sense?! I'm making no sense?! Well, it takes a no-sensor to know one, buddy."

"Who're you calling buddy, pal?"

Let's just say Virgil didn't make it out to get the fire pit until two hours later.

Yen was stunned when he found out Saul was dead, but once asked he quickly agreed to help plan the "con man's funeral," as Linus had called it. Linus had called him with the news, and although Yen was pretty sure Linus had no idea what Yen was saying, he seemed to get that Yen would help.

Yen had been assigned to do invitations, which was definitely a bad choice. But he had agreed to help, so here he sat, calling the other members of the Benedict crew. He had called Reuben and Livingston, who both had thought it was a great idea, which left Danny and Rusty. Yen wasn't exactly looking forward to this.

Danny was still sitting outside Rusty's door when he heard a phone ring. At first he thought it was his, but when he checked, it was silent. Which left Rusty's.

"Hey, Yen." He heard Rusty say. "Oh, really." A pause. "Well, I'll ask him." The door opened, and Rusty looked surprised to see Danny still outside the door. "There's a thing for Saul on Tuesday."

"If you're up for it."

"Okay, then. Yen, we're in." Rusty said as he turned around to go back to his room. He left the door open behind him.

Honestly, Rusty wasn't sure about this thing for Saul. It was too soon, and the wound was too new. He might lose it in front of his friends. It was his duty to go, though, and Danny thought it could be good for them.

That was how Rusty found himself driving to the clearing that Turk had chosen, Danny in the passenger's seat. He didn't really know what to expect. He had brought juice boxes and fries, though, so at least there was that.

When they pulled into the lot, Linus tried to hug them, which they each quickly stepped back from. Well, Linus must be going mad.

It was a strange sight. There was a fire pit in the center of the meadow, and it was filled with blue powder and logs. There was a table set up a few feet away, with a stack of colored paper on it and black streamers wrapped around the table legs. Rusty set the juice boxes and fries down on the table, raising an eyebrow at Linus.

"What's with the paper?" He asked.

"Uh... tinder? Kind of? Well, um, you'll see." Linus fidgeted. Rusty opened a juice box.

Once everyone had arrived, Virgil clapped his hands.

"Alright, everyone, instead of a normal funeral for Saul, we thought we might do something a little different. Going out with a bang, as they say. So, uh, that's what we're gonna do. Basher has hooked up some explosives, and um, instead of speeches and stuff like there normally are at funerals, you're gonna write it down on a piece of paper and throw it into the blue fire. I know that sounds like a thing they'd do for kindergarteners, but, uh, yeah. So, papers are over there on the table, and Basher'll start the fire and bang-bangs. Thanks." Everyone filed over to the table, Rusty grabbing some fries on his way past. He was sure glad he brought those.

Basher lit the fire at its base, and a blue flame roared up, very quickly taller than all of their heads. There was a collective eye-widening. Then, all of a sudden, there were several loud "BANG"'s, and there was a circle of smoldering grass around the fire pit and the people around it. Everyone scribbled down their own message for Saul on their piece of paper, and by the time they looked back up again, the blue fire had reached new heights. Reuben was the first person to approach the fire, slipping his purple paper in and backing away.

"Goodbye, Saul." He whispered. Turk dropped his paper in next.

"Goodbye, Saul." He echoed.

"Goodbye, Saul." Linus carefully slid his paper in the bottom of the fire.

"Goodbye, Saul." Virgil was next, his red paper making its way into the flames.

"Zaijian, Saul." Yen's orange paper disappeared into the blue inferno.

"Goodbye, Saul." Livingston quickly slipped in his paper, hurrying back.

"Bye, Saul. We're really going to miss you." Basher wiped his face after stepping away. "Smoke got in my eyes." He muttered. Danny stepped forward, looking at the fire intently before dropping his paper in.

"Goodbye, Saul." He murmured.

Rusty stepped forward last. He hadn't realized he had started tearing up until he felt his cheeks dampen.

"Goodbye, Saul."

Yeah, yeah, I know the ending was cheesy, sue me. Sorry that this chapter's a little crappy, it was rushed.