A/N: Yes, yes, this chapter was longer than I said it was going to take. Sorry. RL, mostly.
A/N2: For InSilva. Partly for readthrough and constructive and suggestions. Partly just for being bloody wonderful.
Timeline:
1. 'In the beginning' Parts 1 and 2 (Chapters 13 and 14) Rusty is seven, Danny is nine.
2. 'Neverending Conversation' Parts 1 and 2 (Chapters 15 and 16) Rusty is seven, Danny is nine.
3. 'Matilda and the Werewolf' (Chapter 23) Rusty is nine, Danny is eleven.
4. 'Something more than it should be' (Chapter 10) Rusty is ten, Danny is twelve
5. 'The humiliation of Norris Carrol' (Chapter 20) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen
6. 'Four Day Interlude' (Chapter 5) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen
7. 'Remember the first time' (Chapter 4) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen
8. 'Sunshine, smiles and sweet, sweet words' (Chapter 17) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen.
9. 'Lie, Cheat, Steal, Play' (Chapter 24) Rusty is ten, Danny is thirteen
10. 'View from the outside' (Chapter 12) Rusty is eleven, Danny is fourteen
11. 'When we were young' Part 1, 2, 3 and 4 (Chapter 25-28) Rusty is eleven, Danny is fourteen
12. 'And we won't get it back when we die' (Chapter 29) Rusty is twelve, Danny is fourteen
13. 'Walk before you can crawl' (Chapter 2) Rusty is twelve, Danny is fifteen
14. 'Other Nightmares Parts 1 and 2 (Chapters 8 and 9) Rusty is twelve, Danny is fifteen
15. 'The more things change' (Chapter 1) Rusty is thirteen, Danny is fifteen
16. 'Different Roads' Part 1-3 (Chapter 31-33)
17. 'Words and Silence' (Chapter 22) Rusty is thirteen, Danny is sixteen
18. 'Six months of roses' (Chapter 18) Rusty is thirteen/fourteen, Danny is sixteen
19. 'Two stories with some understanding' (Chapter 21) Rusty is thirteen, Danny is sixteen. Falls within time of 'Six months of roses'
20. 'Life Lessons' (Chapter 7) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is sixteen - falls within time of 'Six months of roses'
21. 'The lies we live' (Chapter 3) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is sixteen
22. 'If the fates allow' (Chapter 19) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is seventeen
23. 'This is our decision (to live fast and die young)' (Chapter 6) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is seventeen
24. 'Such a perfect day' (Chapter 11) Rusty is fourteen, Danny is seventeen
And sequels after they move away!
'Adjusting' - two months after they leave town, Rusty is 15, Danny is 17
'Learning Curve' - eighteen months after they leave town, Rusty is 16, Danny is 19
'All in the family' - shortly after 'Learning Curve'
'Outward Ripples' - Rusty is 18, Danny is 20
'Eye for an Eye' - Rusty is 18, Danny is 20
'Chasing Echoes' - set after O11.
'Reconstruction' - set after movies.
They got to the diner early. Bobby had got there earlier and he was sitting in the booth in the corner, his back to the wall and an unobscured view of the front door.
Huh. They exchanged a curious glance in the doorway. That's where they'd have chosen to sit if they'd arrived first.
He tried to study Danny as surreptitiously as possible, making absolutely sure that all the emotion of last night was safely locked away. Weaknesses were there to be hidden. Danny's Mom. Sometime he thought they'd get by quite well if she decided to never speak to Danny again.
"I'm fine," Danny promised him in an undertone, rolling his eyes. "Anyone ever tell you you worry too much?"
Before he'd even thought about how to answer that – because if anyone around here had a history of worrying too much it certainly wasn't him – Danny had pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Indignation set aside in an instant, Rusty fell in step at his shoulder, and they strolled across the diner to where Bobby was sitting.
Bobby had seen them the moment they walked in and his gaze was all things sharp and appraising. There was something else there though...worry? Concern? Huh. Somehow, he doubted that was going to help them get taken seriously. They'd need to work extra hard to convince Bobby that they didn't need any more help than they were asking for. And the way Bobby was studying them...he resisted the urge to check whether the bruise on his face was still covered up. Twenty minutes he'd spent on that this morning, making sure it was perfect. There was no sense in doubting himself now.
"Hi, Bobby," Danny began easily, as they sat down. "Thanks for coming."
"We really appreciate it," Rusty added sincerely.
"Don't mention it," Bobby said, waving a hand dismissively. "I told you to call me if you ever needed help and I meant it." Rusty was watching for some sign of ulterior motives and he couldn't see anything.
"Still. Thank you," Danny said, with quiet insistence.
Bobby nodded and leaned forwards, looking at them seriously. "Now. I asked you on the phone but I'm asking you again. Are you okay? Are you safe?"
He met Bobby's eyes and did his best to project a slightly puzzled reassurance. Like he had no idea why anyone would even be asking.
"Of course, sir" he said steadily.
"Everything's fine," Danny added persuasively.
Still Bobby looked at them for a long moment before he nodded and accepted it as truth. Seemed to accept it, rather. Rusty certainly had no plans to let his guard down anytime soon. "Okay then," Bobby said. "And it's Bobby," he added, looking right at Rusty. "Not sir."
Oh. He should have thought of that. Just that, when in doubt, sounding too respectful always seemed safer. Could be the difference between a clip round the ear and a punch in the mouth. But they were supposed to be working on making Bobby think of them as equals.
Fortunately, the waitress came by at that moment, with a cup of coffee for Bobby. She looked across at him and Danny. "What can I get you boys?"
"Coffee, please," Danny said easily.
"Make that two," Rusty added, feeling just a twinge of regret. The milkshakes they sold here were really great, but he didn't want anything that made him look more like a kid than he already did. Coffee was the better choice.
"You want something to eat?" Bobby interjected. "I'm going to have something." He looked up at the waitress. "Can you bring me some scrambled eggs, please?"
There was a second of hesitation and then Danny smiled. "Same here."
"Can I get some pancakes? Thanks." Sounded good to him. He reached into his pocket for his wallet, as she walked away, ready to get the money when she came back.
"I'll get this," Bobby said quietly.
He looked up sharply. "We can pay for ourselves," he said quickly. He didn't want them to owe anymore than they had to.
Bobby nodded thoughtfully. "It's important to consider how things look," he said, apparently apropos of nothing. "If you're looking to avoid attention, you need to think about what's unusual. A man buying breakfast for two kids? There's a dozen stories that can cover that. No one's going to question it and no one's going to remember it. The kids are buying their own food? That's different. Memorable."
Huh. He hadn't thought about it that way. But Bobby had a point. He nodded reluctantly. "We can pay you back."
"It's just money," Bobby said gently. "It's not what's important."
For a second, Rusty wanted to point out that it was important when you didn't have any. But that wasn't even true, was it? Even when he was broke and starving, it wasn't the money he was after. Money might be a means to an end, but most of the time, it was about the game, about having fun and doing the right thing, about surviving. And now he was wondering. Because if Bobby didn't think that money was important, then it seemed likely that wasn't what he wanted from them.
"So you want to crack a safe?" Bobby began abruptly, when their food had arrived. "Mind if I ask what you're stealing?"
"Nothing," Danny said levelly. "There's something that we need to put in a safe, that's all."
"Uh huh." Bobby regarded them sternly. "If I'm going to help you, I need to know exactly what you're doing."
They looked at each other for a long moment. It sounded reasonable enough – unfortunate, but reasonable. It was Danny's call, though, and he saw the reluctance in Danny's eyes give way to resignation.
"Okay," Danny agreed, turning back to face Bobby. "My Uncle is currently involved in making a business deal with – "
" – Christopher Swift," Rusty took over smoothly. "He's trying to get as many perks and bonuses out of it as possible, including a scholarship for Danny to some private school in Pennsylvania."
"And I don't want to go," Danny added firmly.
"And he doesn't want to go," Rusty agreed. "So we figured the easiest way would be – "
" – stop Uncle Harold from actually wanting to waste time haggling for the perfect deal – "
" – make him think – "
" – a rival – "
" – Lorimer Wick – "
" – going to – "
" – snap the deal up first."
They'd been talking faster, Rusty realised, falling over themselves in their haste to explain their plan. They weren't used to explaining their thinking. The kids in school who asked them to do things, they rarely wanted to know how it was done and even more rarely did they understand. But Bobby was looking at them and nodding understandingly, a glimmer of amusement barely visible.
"So we figured that if Uncle Harold found a note that had apparently got caught up with his papers accidentally, then he would panic and take the first offer on the table," Danny explained. "And obviously I'm not going to be his first priority."
"But when Danny tried to plant it in his briefcase, it turned out the only time he lets it out of his sight is when it's in the safe in his study," Rusty finished expectantly, and that seemed everything covered.
"Right," Bobby nodded, and there was still a hint of amusement in his eyes but his expression was serious. "You got the memo?"
He had. He pulled it out of his pocket and passed it across the table.
"You should really think about fingerprints," Bobby said absently, turning the memo to face him with the corner of a napkin. "Probably doesn't matter in this case, but if you're planting things last thing you want is your fingerprints on it."
Huh. He'd never even thought of that. And okay, Danny's Uncle Harold wasn't going to be checking for fingerprints, but still. "I'll do it again."
Bobby smiled at him. "Bit of practice and you can do just about everything wearing gloves."
"Everything?" he asked involuntarily and in his head he indulged in a brief second of juvenile amusement and he even though nothing was showing in his face, he knew that Danny was sorely tempted to kick him under the table.
Fortunately Bobby didn't seem to have noticed anything. "This is headed notepaper," Bobby commented, frowning.
"Yeah," he agreed.
"We picked it up while we were getting the handwriting sample," Danny explained.
Bobby was shaking his head, his smile wondering. "You really did think of everything, didn't you?"
"Tried to," he said tightly. They hadn't thought of the fingerprints. And they hadn't figured out a way of getting into the safe by themselves. That was them two down.
"You got the handwriting sample on you?" Bobby asked.
He did. For exactly this situation. "Here," he said, passing it over. "Got it out the trash so it won't be missed."
For a long moment Bobby compared the writing on the pieces of paper.
"He uses initials to refer to everyone so I kept that the same," Rusty pointed out, feeling the need to defend his work. This was almost like passing homework in to be graded, only worse. This mattered. And all too easily he could imagine Bobby turning round and laughing at them, telling them they were just stupid kids playing pretend. He leaned forwards anxiously. "And he seems to always misspell – "
Danny's shoulder brushed against his, not so casually. Right. Right. Time to be quiet.
"You did this?" Bobby asked, looking at him. "You do good work."
Rusty felt himself smile unexpectedly. "Uh, thanks," he said.
"Did anyone teach you?" Bobby went on.
"No, we just figured it out." It was just a question of copying each letter exactly. Took a long time, but it wasn't that hard. Danny mostly left it to him. Said he didn't have the patience.
"Very impressive," Bobby commented, and Rusty looked at him sharply, searching for some sign that they were being mocked. Huh. He couldn't be one hundred percent certain, but it seemed like Bobby meant it. He really didn't know what to say.
"I can teach you how to open safes," Bobby told them seriously. "But I imagine you're going to want to move on this as soon as possible."
"We were thinking tomorrow night," Danny agreed.
Bobby nodded. "You're not going to be experts by that time. I was thinking, if you don't mind the company, that I could go along with you. Make sure everything runs smooth."
They turned and looked at each other for a long moment of unspoken conversation. Danny wasn't anymore sure than he was about this. They hadn't wanted to be any more reliant on Bobby than they had to be. Hadn't wanted to let Bobby get too close in case he saw something that made him change his mind. On the other hand, Rusty pointed out, Bobby was right about them not becoming expert safe-crackers over night. They'd have more chance of success this way. For a moment he could see Danny wavering but in the end they were decided.
"Okay – "
" – thank you."
Bobby had sat and waited politely for them to finish. "Good," he said with a smile. "Now it's not exactly my area, but I know people who dabble in the stock market. I can make a few phone calls and I should be able to find out exactly what stage this deal is at."
Oh, that sounded good. Rusty couldn't help but wonder how you went about getting a network of contacts like that.
"Thanks," Danny said and Rusty smiled and Bobby stood up and left the table, heading for the phone at the back of the diner.
"What do you think?" Danny asked him in a low voice.
"I like him," Rusty answered honestly.
"Me too," Danny agreed. "And I think he's on the level." He shot an enquiring glace at Rusty.
Rusty shrugged noncommittally. He hadn't seen any hint of ulterior motives from Bobby. That didn't meant they weren't there. Certainly it didn't mean that Bobby could be trusted. And Bobby was a lot bigger than them and a lot stronger and he looked like he could more than handle himself. If it came to trouble, Bobby could hurt them really badly.
"Right," Danny said, his gaze troubled. "Guess we stay alert."
Bobby finished his last phone call and looked back to the table where the boys were sitting. Their heads were bowed close together, talking softly. Or maybe not talking. It seemed like they didn't exactly need to, judging by that little display earlier. He'd tried not to smile, watching that. Didn't think it would exactly be appreciated. But it was so strange and impressive. It was like they were living on some other level. And he'd seen similar – hell, Molly knew what he was thinking more often than not – but nothing so deep and nothing so unselfconscious.
It was amazing. They were amazing. And he'd been promising to help them before he even knew what he was doing.
The good news was, he hadn't seen any signs that they were being hurt. No obvious physical injuries, and he'd watched them walk across the diner and neither of them seemed to be hiding any pain.
That was something. A lot better than his worst imaginings had suggested. Still, he wanted more than just his impressions to be certain. He'd have to come up with something clever. Some way to get the answers without asking the questions.
There was still little hints that got him worried. He hadn't liked the matter-of-fact acceptance in Danny's voice when he'd said he obviously wouldn't be his uncle's priority. And he hadn't liked Rusty's sharp insistence that they pay for their own food. The same drive for self-sufficiency that had them stealing money for essentials. It bothered him. Even their obvious reluctance to trust him – oh, he knew they didn't, knew that they were talking about him even now – somehow he doubted that they had many positive experiences of relying on other people.
He wasn't going to let them down.
He headed back to the table, being sure to let them see him coming, and by the time he was sat down they were discussing the plot of some TV show like that was what they'd been talking about all along.
"Did you find anything?" Rusty asked, his head cocked to one side.
"Yes," he nodded. He'd called Reuben, who'd given him Larry Smith's number, who hadn't known but had passed him on to Victor Meyer who had been very helpful. "This deal your uncle is involved in is top secret but my contact – Victor – is sure it's still in the early stages. He doesn't know for definite, but he thinks it's likely that no sweeteners are on the table at the moment. Won't be until the bidding reaches two million."
"Two million dollars?" Rusty said, apparently involuntarily, and Bobby nodded, resisting the urge to smile at the wide-eyed astonishment.
"So Uncle Harold hasn't been offered the scholarship yet," Danny said softly, and Rusty shot him a smile.
"It doesn't look like it, no," Bobby agreed, and he hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Victor says that when this deal goes through, Barrow Greener stock is going to go through the roof. That's why it's being kept a secret. I was thinking I'd buy some shares myself. If you want – if you've got a little extra money – I could buy some for you. That way, if everything goes according to plan, you make some money."
And if everything didn't go according to plan, if the shares didn't profit for whatever reason, then Bobby would give them the money anyway and they'd never have to know. Anything that could help them, and sometimes a little extra money could make a difference.
There was a moment of uncertain hesitation and then they exchanged a long look and Bobby waited patiently. He had no idea what they were thinking, no idea what thoughts were being exchanged, he just knew there was something.
"Okay," Danny agreed, turning back to face him with a dazzling smile. "We can give you about two hundred and fifty dollars."
His eyebrows shot up. Huh. That was decidedly more than he'd been expecting. All to the good though. Insider trading wasn't his thing, but he'd make sure they made a profit. "Alright then," he said aloud. "Let's go and learn about safes."
From the outside, the bar was about as unnoticeable as it was possible to imagine. Danny figured they'd probably walked past it a hundred times and never looked twice at it.
But this, apparently, was where Bobby's contact could be found and this was where Bobby had led them to.
"You're really too young to be in here," Bobby commented quietly as they followed him inside.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. Not like either of them really drank. The last time Danny had drank had been last December and what he remembered was waking up to watch Rusty flinch away from him. And Rusty...Danny didn't think that Rusty had ever drank alcohol because he wanted to. And if there was some other reason, some things that Bobby didn't think they were old enough to see, well. They'd both lived worse.
And Bobby was supposed to be seeing them as adults, anyway.
"I'm sure we'll cope," he said dryly.
"There are worse places," Rusty agreed.
Bobby shot them both an indecipherable look and walked up to a man sitting at the side of the bar. "Leo?" he asked with confidence.
The man looked round with a wary smile. "Yeah?"
"I'm Bobby Caldwell. I believe you were expecting me."
"Right, right." Leo nodded, understanding clearly dawning. "And these must be the brats, huh?"
Danny kept his smile wide. "Danny Ocean," he introduced himself, holding his hand out. "And this is my partner, Rusty Ryan."
"Leo Ruger," Leo said, shaking first Danny's hand, then Rusty's and looking slightly incredulous. "And, uh, no offence meant, right?"
"None taken," Rusty said, smiling charmingly, and they'd both been called worse after all. But Bobby was glaring at Leo like he wasn't at all happy.
"So, you've got a safe in the back room, right?" Bobby asked brusquely.
"Yeah, well, it's just downstairs. This is Monty's place, but there's nothing in the safe and he said it would be alright," Leo explained with a shrug, passing the key over to Bobby, and jerking a thumb at the door over his shoulder. "Help yourself."
The door led to a set of stairs which led to a back room with a desk, a sofa and a solid-looking wall safe. Danny looked at it thoughtfully and he honestly couldn't imagine how they were going to open it.
"Now," Bobby began, and he gestured for them to sit themselves down on the sofa while he stood in front of the safe. "There are several different ways of getting a safe open. The easiest way by far is to know the combination."
"There's no way of finding that out," Danny said immediately.
Bobby nodded, not looking surprised. "You'd be amazed at the number of people who write combinations down though. Or tell their loose-lipped friends."
"Not Uncle Harold," Danny said. He was far too careful.
"Okay then," Bobby went on. "Now, some people use explosives. I prefer not to myself. It's loud and it's messy but it is effective. It's also something often best left to the experts."
"We don't want him to know that the safe has been opened," Rusty pointed out quietly.
"Which would also be the problem with drilling the lock," Bobby agreed. "I'll show you how to do that, if we've got the time, but that leaves us with cracking the combination." He pulled out a stethoscope and a sheath of graph paper. "And that's what I'm going to show you now."
Bobby ran through the demonstration four or five times. It all seemed...insanely complicated, actually. The number of wheels and locks and tumblers, listening for the right click, plotting it against the right number – Danny wasn't certain that they'd ever get the hang of it. Certainly, he had to figure that Bobby had been right about them not getting it in time for tomorrow.
Yet another reason why they owed Bobby.
And that was what made the money okay.
Bobby had suggested that they give him money to invest in shares to get a profit out of this thing, and Danny had seen the possibility at once. A reason for them to give Bobby their money, and then if the shares failed to make a profit, they'd have no cause to be mad at Bobby. Much more elegant than charging them for lessons. Much less chance of them refusing.
It made sense, and Rusty had agreed, and they'd decided to go along with it anyway. They needed Bobby. And paying him back by allowing themselves to be conned...might not be dignified, but it still made them even.
He watched as Bobby ran through the demonstration again.
"Different safes have different numbers of locks and tumblers," Bobby said quietly. "Until I can see what type of safe this Harold has – "
"Protex T-1000," Rusty said promptly.
"We checked," Danny added.
Bobby was smiling at them again and Danny couldn't think what that smile reminded him of. He didn't know that anyone had actually smiled at him like that before. "I should have known," Bobby murmured, shaking his head. "Okay. That safe will actually be easier than this one. It's got one less tumbler to worry about." The smile broadened and he held the stethoscope out towards them. "You want to give it a try?"
Bobby watched the two boys bending over the safe, passing the stethoscope between them, bright eyed and eager and determined.
They'd been at it about two hours now. And they were learning fast, making progress, and he'd given them every piece of advice they asked for, every hint and tip he could think of, and he'd watched them fumble and correct each other, soft voices discussing every move they made, brilliant smiles heralding each small success the other one had.
It had taken him a while to figure out what was so strange.
He remembered back when he'd been a kid, learning new things had meant competition. New sports, new games, new lessons in school – he and his friends had always kept score. Comparing themselves. Oh, it had all been friendly enough, but there had been pride and boasting and rivalries.
It mattered who was the fastest. Who was the cleverest. Who was the best. Who picked things up quickest. It had mattered.
Even when he'd been much older, learning to crack safes himself, with Dougie Tarrant and Chris Smith, they'd been in competition. Stephen Grant had been teaching the three of them, and they'd played off each other, each determined to get the hang of it first. Friendly rivalry. It had inspired them to learn.
It was normal. And certainly, between teenage boys, it was what he was expecting.
And yet there was no sign of it here.
As Danny was the first to get the point on the first tumbler, Rusty had smiled at him like he couldn't be happier, couldn't be prouder, and Danny had grinned in sheer delight and had immediately relinquished his spot and started telling Rusty exactly what he was listening for.
He'd known they were close. But there was no competitiveness and no jealousy, and he had to admit it was strange.
Yet more evidence that they really were exceptional.
Six hours and they hadn't got the hang of it. Rusty had to admit that this was a whole lot more challenging than he'd ever have expected. And it was fun.
Fun in the way that education so often wasn't. New and exciting, and he'd be absolutely content to carry on working all night.
Danny had gone upstairs to get some drinks. Soft drinks, Bobby had specified sternly and Danny had smiled in a way that they were almost certain had hidden the momentary unease from Bobby. Danny wasn't so sure about leaving Rusty alone with Bobby. Just in case. But he'd smiled mockingly at Danny; what, after all, was going to happen? Danny had nodded in reluctant acknowledgement and headed upstairs.
He stared at the safe in absolute concentration, turning the dial fractionally and listening. There. That was one. Thirty-nine or fifteen. He smiled and moved on to the next one.
"You need to plot it on the paper, Rusty," Bobby chided him gently. "You won't be able to keep the numbers straight in your head unless you write them down."
Actually, he could. He knew he could. He froze and he didn't know quite what to say. They'd long ago figured out that the way his mind worked wasn't exactly normal. "Sorry, Bobby," he said at last, pulling the paper towards him. "Guess I forgot." He made a couple of meticulous notes on the graph. Wasn't like it would hurt any, and he was conscious that Bobby was giving him a long and considering look.
He reached back up to the safe and Bobby was standing at his elbow and he was suddenly conscious that Bobby's eyes were fixed on his arm. He glanced down at it himself and instinctively, futilely, he tried to pull down the sleeve of his t-shirt to cover the scars. The movement seemed to alert Bobby and he smiled reassuringly at Rusty and walked quickly over to the other side of the room, staring down at the papers on the desk.
Rusty turned his attention back to the safe. Bobby hadn't seen anything, he told himself comfortingly. The scars were faint; you really had to look for them to be sure they were there. Danny saw them sometimes, but no one else ever did.
Or maybe, maybe Bobby had seen them and just hadn't cared. Like he'd said to Danny, maybe it just wasn't such a big deal. His fingers traced unconsciously over the marks on his arm. Not to anyone else, anyway.
"The bar's getting crowded," Danny remarked cheerfully, walking down the stairs with three cokes, and looking Rusty up and down quickly, searching for the slightest hint of ruffledness.
He shot Danny a quick and reassuring smile and took the coke, laying it to one side and concentrating on the safe again and he was barely aware of time passing.
"Think we should call a halt," Bobby said eventually, clearing his throat, and Rusty was still crouched in front of the safe, the stethoscope pressed to the lock.
He wanted to protest, for a moment, that they still had time, that he wanted to keep going. But they were here on Bobby's sufferance, and it wasn't his place to insist. "Of course," he agreed, standing up smoothly.
"I thought we'd go get some dinner," Bobby went on. "My treat."
Rusty frowned. "Bobby – " he protested.
" – you've done well today," Bobby interrupted, nodding at the safe. "You're doing better than I ever expected. Don't you think that's worth dinner at least?"
Huh. That was pretty much exactly the reasoning that Bobby had used last time, in Chicago, once they'd got through with their pick pocket lessons. Same tone too. Gruff and off-handed, but Bobby meant it, and it made it so difficult to stay detached, so difficult to keep his guard up, to not believe.
Praise and pride, and Danny was staring at Bobby, and Rusty could see the words slipping through his defences.
Better to be grateful than to take that away from Danny. (From both of them.)
"Sure – "
" – thanks, Bobby."
Over dinner, Bobby told them stories. Started out as simple advice about different safes they might come across, different safes that Bobby had encountered, but somehow, soon enough, Bobby was telling them about cons he'd pulled, jobs he'd been involved in, things that had been fantastic and things that had gone spectacularly wrong.
They were entranced.
This was a whole world they'd barely been aware of, and for every story that Danny listened to, wondering what he would have done differently, wondering if he would have thought of anything as good, he knew that Rusty was sitting there, absorbing techniques and technicalities, and planning how to put them into action.
Stories that made them smile, stories that made them laugh, and in all of them there was a common theme. At each new beginning, Bobby explained why the mark. No innocent victims. It seemed important.
Danny thought here was a rule he could follow. They would follow.
Over coffee for him and Bobby, and hot chocolate for Rusty, Bobby grew more serious. "We're going to break in to your Uncle's place tomorrow, I'm going to need an address," he said in a low voice, checking that no one was near. "I'm going to need to go and check it out. Find a way in."
Danny looked at him evenly. "We already have a way in," he said simply. Did Bobby really think they'd be talking about breaking in somewhere without having a plan?
Bobby nodded, frowning. "Have you ever broken in anywhere before?"
He exchanged a quick look with Rusty wondering, worrying. It wasn't the biggest secret they had, but it was still something between the two of them. Something outsiders didn't know. Something that could be used against them.
They were asking Bobby to trust them...
"Yes – " he said at last.
" – a few times," Rusty finished. "The school, a couple of shops, someone's house once or twice."
"Just when we have to," Danny said, and he wasn't sure whether or not Bobby would disapprove and he wasn't sure whether or not he cared.
Another nod. "You steal things?"
"Sometimes," Danny agreed carefully. "When we have to."
"Money, mostly," Rusty clarified and Danny nodded his agreement. Mostly, money was what they needed.
"Hmmm." Bobby smiled at them warmly. "Okay. Listen. Leo in the bar, he's a fence. You know what that means?"
Not really.
"Someone who buys stolen goods," Rusty said, not looking at him.
Oh. Oh, that sounded intriguing.
"Exactly," Bobby agreed, with a further smile. "He's already been introduced to you. And because he trusts the guy that sent me to him, he'll trust you. You ever get something that isn't money that you want to sell, go to him. He'll give you a fair price."
Possibilities were already dancing through Danny's head. Whole new options that they'd never even had a chance to consider. It was going to be amazing. "Thank you," he said, and he saw Bobby blink at the smile.
"It's nothing," Bobby said, sounding a little uncomfortable. "Now, how were you planning on breaking into your uncle's house?"
"Conservatory door," he said immediately. "He's got a burglar alarm, but the conservatory was built after it was installed, and that door isn't wired up." He'd realised that at the time and he'd never really considered that it might be useful. Hell, he'd tried to point it out to Uncle Harold and he'd been told to stay quiet and mind his own business before he'd been able to get the words out.
Bobby was nodding approvingly. "And where's the study?"
"On the ground floor," Rusty said. "I could draw some floor plans tomorrow, so you could memorise the layout before we go in, if that would help?" His hand crept up towards his mouth, and Danny froze at the familiar contemplative gesture.
The bruise. The make-up. All about to be wiped away.
He reached out without even thinking about it, grabbing Rusty's hand and Rusty's eyes met his in a moment of pure astonishment.
"Do you think that Uncle Harold locks the study door?" he asked, urgency forced into his voice, a sudden moment of panicky revelation, and his eyes were telling Rusty something completely different.
He watched the realisation of what he'd been about to do dawn in Rusty's eyes. "There's no lock on the door," Rusty told him, for Bobby's benefit.
"Oh." He let go of Rusty's hand, a little shakily. Physical contact, and that was strange for two teenage boys. They'd learned that lesson already. And he thought he'd covered the moment, but still he looked down at his coffee, not wanting to look at Bobby, just in case he hadn't, just in case he looked up to see the same disgust that Richard had displayed.
"The floor plans would be helpful, Rusty, thank you," Bobby said, like nothing had happened.
"No problem," Rusty agreed amicably.
"How many people are in the house?" Bobby asked.
"Just Uncle Harold," Danny answered promptly. "He lives alone and Rosamund, his housekeeper, just comes in days. And he takes a sleeping pill every night at ten and is dead to the world till seven the next morning."
He knew that beyond all doubt. Last year, in the months after Dad, when he'd been having so much trouble sleeping, Uncle Harold had told Mom that she should get the same thing for Danny. Sleeping pills and valium. He'd even given Mom the name of a doctor, and Danny knew Mom had been considering it. And he knew that they were just trying to help him, but still, the very thought had made him shiver.
"Good," Bobby said, sounding satisfied. "That should make things easier." He smiled at them again, and the look in his eyes... "You really have done a good job."
He felt strangely warm inside.
First thing he did, when he got settled into his hotel room, was call home.
"Hi, Molly," he said as soon as she answered the phone. "Everything okay?"
"Yes, everything's fine," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "I just got Linus off to sleep. And I only had to play peekaboo twenty times tonight."
"Good, good. How is he?" he asked anxiously.
She laughed. "No different from how he was this morning," she said teasingly. "Perfect in every detail."
"Can't blame a man for worrying," he said gruffly. "And how are you?"
"Also perfect in every detail," she answered immediately.
"No arguments here," he told her lovingly.
Her voice grew serious. "How are the boys?"
He sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. "Physically they seemed fine." He heard her breathe a sigh of relief and he wasn't so sure that he wanted to say the rest. "But I saw some scars on Rusty's arm. They were old...a few years at least. I don't know – "
" – but you think someone hurt him," Molly whispered.
"Yes." He closed his eyes. He'd known, looking at Rusty's arm, that there could be a thousand perfectly innocent explanations and somehow his mind had only shown him the wrong and the violent. And he'd seen the way Rusty had tried to cover it up, self-conscious and ashamed, and he'd had to walk away, too afraid of letting his anger show. Same outrage he was feeling now. Rusty was thirteen. A child. Anyone who would hurt him was a monster. The sort of unfeeling animal that Bobby had joined the FBI to put away.
A second's pause and his voice was steady as he continued. "But the rest...I just don't know. They don't trust me." He paused. "They want to break into Danny's uncle's safe, in order to plant a memo that will shorten a business deal so that his uncle won't get Danny a scholarship to a school out of state."
"That sounds complicated," she said, after a second. "They really thought of all that themselves?"
"Yeah." He let a hint of the pride that he had absolutely no right to suffuse his voice. "I told you they were exceptional."
"Danny doesn't want to go to this school?" she asked uneasily.
"No," he said, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that either. He was helping a teenager go against his family's wishes, after all. He could imagine how he'd feel if someone did the same with Linus. On the other hand – "I don't think it's just teenage pique, Molly. The way they were talking...it sounded like there was something else at the back of it. I want to help them. I don't want to just dismiss them out of hand." He had a feeling that too many people had done that already.
"And you think they're exceptional," Molly put in knowingly.
He smiled. "You should have seen them with the safe this afternoon, Molly! They're amazing. Naturals, both of them. And the way they work together..." He shook his head blindly. "I don't know the last time I saw a partnership so close."
"Really?" Molly said, and there was a hint of surprise in her voice and a hint of consideration.
"They know the differences don't matter," Bobby went on, almost talking to himself. "I told you that Danny's three years older. And he seems to come from more money. Their clothes, the way they talk..." The differences weren't obvious, but they were there. "And none of it matters."
"I think I'd like to meet them some day," Molly said thoughtfully.
"If they decide to stay in our world, they're going to be the best," he told her. He was absolutely sure of it. But they were kids and that was a big if and they had years until they were finished with school. Then, they'd see.
Molly's voice brought him back to the present. "So what now?"
The smile faded. "I need to win their trust. And I need to be sure that they're really alright."
"How are you going to do that?" she asked practically.
"Thought I'd try asking," he said lightly.
It was dark in Danny's bedroom and neither of them were sleeping.
"What do you think?" Rusty asked at last, and Danny turned to face him.
"What do you think?" he countered at once.
Rusty sighed and even though he couldn't see, Danny knew that his fingers were rubbing round the outside of his mouth. Didn't matter now; the make-up was already removed. Tiffany had been very specific about that. Apparently if Rusty left it on overnight, he'd get spots. Somehow, the bruise had looked so much worse when it had reappeared.
"I...I think he's on the level, Danny," Rusty said at last. "I don't know what he's getting out of this, but I don't think he wants our money and I don't think he wants to hurt us."
Danny frowned. "That investment – " he started to object.
" – I think he meant it," Rusty cut in. "And so do you."
He closed his eyes. Yeah. Yeah, he did. If Bobby really wanted their money, why did he look so surprised when they told him how much they had. It had sounded like an elegant con, and it had made so much more sense than the alternative – Danny had been sure. Truth of the matter, though, was that two teenage boys made for lousy marks. Bobby had no way of knowing that they had more than pocket change. And Bobby had told Rusty that money wasn't important, and he'd insisted on paying for everything, and it felt like he'd meant it. And all those stories...Bobby's marks had it coming. And they might lie, cheat and steal on a regular basis, but Danny still didn't think they were the bad guys. Not enough to justify it to Bobby, anyway.
(And then there was the look in Bobby's eyes when he'd smiled at them and the understanding and appreciation that he'd grown to only expect from Rusty, but that was something to be locked away and never thought of again.)
"Yeah," he admitted at last, heavily. "Yeah, I think he meant it." Inexplicable but true.
"It doesn't change anything," Rusty said firmly. "Maybe he's expecting us to pay him back later. Long term favour, or something. We can't trust him."
"It doesn't change anything," Danny agreed. "People can be like – that – and turn round and change a moment later. We can't trust him."
(He wasn't thinking of his Dad, he wasn't, he wasn't, he wasn't.)
Rusty's hand crept into his. "'s the right call," Rusty whispered. "Right?"
"Right," Danny said, after a moment.
They couldn't trust Bobby. But that didn't mean they couldn't like him.
They'd agreed to meet in the bar first thing in the morning.
Bobby had lain awake for a long time, figuring out his next moves. He thought he had a plan for the day.
To start with, he got to the bar early, knowing that Leo would be there. He'd agreed to come by to open the place up. And it gave him the opportunity to have a quiet word.
"I'm leaving town tomorrow," he said, leaning on the bar and looking Leo in the eyes. "Danny and Rusty might be coming by sometimes to practice with the safe."
Leo pursed his lips doubtfully. "You'd need to check with Monty. He might not like having a couple of kids running around the place. It's a good way for him to lose his license you know."
"Way Jacques tells it, Monty listens to you," Bobby said, not taking his eyes off Leo's. Jacques had promised him that Leo could be trusted, more or less, but that he didn't like to make any sort of commitment. And Bobby needed a commitment.
"Well, yes," Leo admitted. "Okay. You can tell the brats that they can come play with that old safe to their heart's content. Long as they come in during the day, anyway."
"I will. Thank you." He nodded and he couldn't quite let it go unremarked. "And their names are Danny and Rusty."
"Yeah, sure. Sorry." Leo looked at him curiously. "They mean a lot to you, huh."
He started to grin. "You sure you've never been in town before? Say, sixteen years ago?"
"No!" Bobby said glaring coldly, as the implication hit him. "Certainly not."
Leo actually took a couple of steps back. "Sorry," he muttered. "Didn't mean anything. They seem like good kids, anyway."
They were. "I told them that you're a fence," he said after a moment. "I said you'd buy anything they were looking to sell." He lowered his voice. "If they do, make sure you give them a fair price. I would be very upset if I heard that you'd taken advantage of them."
"I wouldn't do that," Leo insisted, sounding genuinely outraged. "Cheating kids isn't my style."
Bobby looked at him carefully and honestly, he believed him. He nodded, satisfied. "That's alright then." He hesitated. "Like you said, they're good kids. But they are just kids. You see anything that worries you...you ever think they're in trouble, you let me know, okay?"
Leo looked unhappy. "Look, I don't go around carrying tales – "
He spoke quickly and sincerely. " – I don't want to know if they're misbehaving, I don't want to know if they're smoking or drinking or whatever. I don't want to know if they're plotting to steal a new corvette or the crown jewels. I want to know if they're hurt. I want to know if they're in over their heads. You can do that."
A slow nod. "I can do that." Leo looked at him curiously. "They're that good?"
"They're that good," Bobby confirmed.
"Huh." Leo grinned. "Now I'm kinda looking forward to seeing what they grow into."
Yeah. Him and Bobby both. "And I don't want them drinking in here," he offered as a parting shot.
At Rusty's insistence they'd stopped by MacDonald's on the way to the bar. Got enough for three. Actually, by anyone else's standards, they'd probably got enough for five, and Danny had struggled not to laugh at the bemused expression on Bobby's face watching Rusty eat. He was almost certain that Bobby was wondering where Rusty put it all. Like a very strange conjuring trick.
Still, they'd bought Bobby breakfast, and Bobby hadn't made a big deal of it, and everything seemed a little easier than yesterday. More relaxed. After all, they'd got through yesterday without anything bad happening, and breakfast this morning was accompanied by good humour and easy laughter.
Afterwards, and Rusty settled down at the desk with a ream of paper, ready to draw out the floor plans.
Danny headed back to the safe, ready for some more practice.
Bobby joined him. "Would have thought you'd be drawing the plans," he commented. "It is your uncle's place – I'd have thought you would have been there more often."
It was a good point. "We were both there just the other day," he offered evasively. "And Rusty's better at drawing."
Nodding, Bobby didn't comment further, and Danny concentrated on trying to get the safe open. It was difficult. Didn't feel like he'd lost any ground since yesterday, but didn't feel like he'd gained any either.
"Take your time," Bobby told him gently. "Don't force the dial round."
He nodded and tried again. He couldn't help but hope that Rusty got finished soon and came over. It was always easier to learn things together.
Time passed, and he couldn't get the second tumbler, no matter how hard he tried, and his tongue was between his teeth, and he suddenly realised that Bobby was looking at him. Had been for some time.
He risked a glance up. Bobby was looking thoughtful. And uncomfortable. Like something was on his mind.
Naturally, Bobby caught him looking. "Danny – " he began, sounding troubled, and Danny knew what was coming.
"This the part where you ask me why we're doing this?" he asked in a low voice. He'd been expecting this, and really, it was a good question. Bobby was putting himself through a lot to get Danny out of a full scholarship to a prestigious high school. He'd want a reason why.
"Something like that," Bobby agreed.
The only problem was, the only reason that Danny could give was the truth.
He glanced over to where Rusty was sitting at the desk, concentration and focus brought to life, and even though Rusty was facing the other way, he had to keep this conversation low key, had to keep Rusty from picking up on even the smallest hint of disquiet. Tall order.
"I can't lose him," he said simply.
He heard Bobby sigh and he wasn't going to wait for Bobby to tell him he was being overdramatic. Swallowing hard, he looked across at Rusty again. "My Dad died last year," he said quietly. "Just a few weeks after we'd met you, actually."
A sharp intake of breath. "Oh, Danny, I'm sorry," Bobby said, his voice low and sympathetic, understanding and absolute sincerity.
He waved the concern away. Not the point. "I'm over it now," he said. "But at the time I pretty much fell apart. Don't know what I'd have done without Rusty. I mean, I really don't know what I'd have done. They told me and all I could think about was getting to Rusty. I needed..." He shook his head. "I don't know how I'd have coped without him. I don't think I would have. I don't know how other people manage." How could anyone go through life on their own?
He turned and faced Bobby, looking at him levelly. "If I go away to this school it'll mean being away from Rusty for most of the year."
Bobby nodded slowly and Danny was trying so hard to read the expression on his face. Not disapproval. Least he didn't think so. And he was feeling a little uncomfortable with what he'd revealed, but he'd felt like he had to make Bobby understand how real this was, how important.
"I don't think I can live with that," he added softly, turning back to face the safe.
There was silence.
He didn't look round at Bobby. He'd heard that kind of silence before.
"This the part where you tell me that I'm too young to feel that strongly?" he hissed, the old anger running through him. "That this is just a childish phase, and I'll forget all about him in time? That I shouldn't throw away an opportunity because of some stupid idea about friendship? That if I go away to this school I'll make new friends my own age and background?"
He was almost shaking with fury now. And if Bobby so much as suggested, if Bobby even implied that he could do better than Rusty, Danny was going to hit him. He didn't care about the age difference, or the height difference, or the fact that Bobby could probably take him on with one hand tied behind his back. He wasn't going to listen to that again.
A soft choked sound and Bobby was staring at him, but it was concern and horror, and Danny felt the anger melt away into confusion. "No!" Bobby managed to say at last, in a harsh whisper. "God, no. Who told you that?"
He shrugged uneasily. Mom. Dad. The bastard Attwood. A few other people.
Rusty was looking round at them now, too far away to hear, but the concern and anxiety were written all over his face. With a look, Danny told him to stay back, that everything was just fine. And Rusty didn't look happy, and Danny knew they'd be talking about this later, but right now he had to focus on Bobby.
Bobby's hand was on his shoulder. "Listen, Danny," he said, his voice soft and intent. "There's nothing more important than the people you care about. Don't ever let anyone tell you different. Rusty matters to you, and you matter to him. You have something special. And that's worth more than some people will ever understand."
Danny couldn't keep the wonder from his eyes.
"You couldn't talk to your Mom about the high school?" Bobby added and the casual tone was hiding something.
Danny was about to protest, to argue that it wasn't his fault, that he'd tried and she wouldn't listen, but he stopped himself in time. Right. Bobby wasn't asking because he thought that Danny could do better. Bobby was looking for an answer to a completely different question.
Oh, he had to nip this in the bud right away. He wasn't mistreated and he didn't want Bobby looked at him like he was a kid.
"She wants what's best for me," he said carefully, fixing Bobby with a knowing look. "It's just that we disagree on what is best for me." That sounded reasonable to him.
Bobby wasn't looking quite convinced.
Danny shrugged. "I could throw some tantrum. Insist that I don't want to move schools." He grinned. "It's not exactly my style though. I'd rather avoid upsetting her and just arrange things the way I want."
"I see," Bobby said slowly.
"She's busy," he added persuasively. "She's got a lot on at work, and she's got a new boyfriend and they're spending a lot of time together – she's away a lot. I prefer to keep the arguments to a minimum. Just do what I need to."
"I see," Bobby said again, frowning.
He smiled some more and tried again. "Sometimes she thinks I'm still a kid, that's all," he said easily. "Think it's fairly typical for parents, really." There was nothing for Bobby to worry about and he concentrated on broadcasting that.
For a moment he thought that Bobby was going to tell him that he was still a kid. Thankfully, Bobby just shook his head and sighed. "I'm going to help you with the safe, Danny. I said I would and I don't go back on my word." He looked Danny right in the eyes. "Anything you need, anything at all, you tell me and I'll do my best to help you."
Bobby's words were burning with truth, and Danny looked back to the safe quickly, fighting to keep the secrets inside. When Bobby looked at him like that, just for a moment, Danny wanted to tell him everything. To say what his Mom was really like, to share every detail of Rusty's life, to ask Bobby to make it all stop.
"I'll remember that," he said quickly, and astoundingly, his voice was steady and when his hands gripped the lock, they weren't trembling. "Let's see if I can get this."
Rusty was almost certain that he was on the brink of a breakthrough and had been for the last two hours. He was going to get the trick to this any moment now and he knelt in front of the safe with single-minded determination while Bobby perused the plans he'd drawn at the desk behind him.
Danny had gone out to find them some food. And that was the best evidence Rusty had that whatever had gone on between Danny and Bobby earlier it wasn't anything too bad. Even though he'd got nothing other than a quick reassuring glance and a mouthed promise of 'later' he knew that Danny wouldn't have left him alone with Bobby if he had any doubts. But Danny had been upset and Rusty didn't know why. He'd wanted to get closer, to get involved but Danny had warned him away and they'd been deliberately talking too soft for him to hear, and he hadn't been able to get closer without them noticing.
He'd seen Bobby put his hand on Danny's shoulder though. He'd read the expression on Danny's face.
Moments when Danny looked like that were rare. To be treasured.
Made it very difficult to remember that they weren't supposed to trust Bobby.
He sighed. He needed to focus. He almost had it.
Eyes closed, he listened and visualised each turn of the wheel, each movement of the tumblers each number falling into place. He could do this.
A moment later and he was staring into the inside of the safe for the first time.
Fantastic.
The grin spread and automatically he was standing up, checking to see if Danny was back because he wanted to share in the moment and triumph was never so sweet alone.
He stood and half turned.
All he was aware of was someone standing close behind him, towering over him.
Instinct took over, memories of a hundred similar moments telling him that there was danger, insisting there'd be pain, reminding him he couldn't hope to fight back.
He flinched backwards violently, and his leg caught against the open safe door and he fell to the ground awkwardly.
He stayed down for a second, despite the instincts screaming at him to get up and run while he could, or to curl up and hide from steel-toed boots and harsh kicks.
Deep breaths.
When he looked up, Bobby was standing well back, his hands spread wide and unthreatening, deliberately keeping them where Rusty could see. "Are you alright? Rusty, did you hurt yourself?"
"I'm fine," he said calmly, getting to his feet and dusting himself off with a nonchalant effort. "I got the safe open!"
"Well done," Bobby said, but he didn't sound like he meant it and he didn't sound like he cared. "Are you sure you're not hurt?" he added anxiously.
"Nah, I'm good," Rusty said with an easy, embarrassed smile, and he absolutely wasn't thinking about how familiar the look in Bobby's eyes was. (A pale echo of the one that Danny wore far too often.) Fuck, this was no good. He didn't want Bobby looking at him like that. He didn't want Bobby thinking of him like that. "Just lost my balance, that's all."
Bobby didn't look like he believed that was 'all' for a moment. Wasn't like Rusty blamed him for that, he had a clear idea of exactly how he'd just looked. All that effort they'd put in to convincing Bobby that they were independent adults, and he'd gone and ruined it in one stupid, cowardly moment.
Hell, it wasn't even like Bobby had any reason to be mad at him – he hadn't done anything wrong and he really didn't think that Bobby was the sort of man who'd hit him for no reason.
Maybe he could still salvage this.
God, he hoped Danny wasn't coming back any time soon.
He sighed heavily and leaned back against the safe, meeting Bobby's eyes evenly. "Okay, Bobby. Just ask the question. I know you want to."
"I have to," Bobby answered heavily.
Rusty kept the spark of anger and disappointment hidden. He didn't want Bobby thinking that he couldn't look after himself. He should be stronger than this.
"Is...is someone hurting you?" Bobby asked hesitantly. "Your parents?"
"No," Rusty answered immediately, and he wished Bobby would just take his word for it.
Bobby nodded and he was standing on the other side of the room, giving Rusty all the room he could want, and Rusty might be annoyed at being treated like glass, but it was making this a lot easier. "I saw the scars on your arm. And you panicked when I grabbed you in Chicago. And you flinched away when I stood too close."
Damn. He wished Bobby hadn't brought up the scars. He wished Bobby hadn't brought up any of this. Fuck, none of it mattered to Bobby. Why couldn't he just leave him alone?
For a moment he considered lying. The scars, well, could be a hundred explanations. And anyone might panic when they were caught pickpocketing. And maybe Bobby had just startled him. All of that had worked before. Often before. People didn't want to know the truth, he knew that. They just felt they had to ask the question. Prurient interest or some sense of obligation, and Rusty got along just fine, thank you.
But so far Bobby had proved to be observant and Rusty wasn't prepared to bet that he wouldn't see through the lies. And being caught lying was worse than telling the truth.
A certain amount of truth. He could do this.
"No one's hurting me," he said again. "Now." And that was a truth for a start. Right now, right in this moment, he was just fine.
"Now?" Bobby repeated sharply.
He glanced down. Took a moment to brush an invisible piece of dirt from his shirt. He had to make Bobby think he was unwilling to share this. A reluctant revelation, and Bobby wouldn't think there was anything else.
Of course, he didn't want to share this.
"My Mom doesn't live with us anymore," he said, and he told himself that the tremor in his voice was entirely deliberate and under his control. "But when I was a kid she was...difficult to live with."
"I'm sorry, Rusty," Bobby said gently. "She hurt you, didn't she."
Oh, this was...he didn't talk about this. He didn't. This was hell.
A little bit of truth. Just enough to hide the ugliness.
"She had...issues," he said carefully. "She didn't know what she was doing. And when she got upset or frustrated, she'd lash out and sometimes I was in the way."
There. That should be alright. Didn't sound like it was Mom's fault, didn't sound like it was Rusty's fault, and that was important. Bad enough that he had to let Bobby think of him as a helpless child without having Bobby wonder if he'd deserved it.
"She shouldn't have done that," Bobby told him, his eyes intent. "It doesn't matter what the excuse was, she was wrong to hurt you."
Fuck. He really didn't want Bobby thinking like that.
He shrugged and grinned lightly. "It was a long time ago," he said lightly. "She left when I was nine. I got these scars the night she left. Dad promised that she'll never come back." And that was true. Not for his sake, of course, never for his sake, but he'd let Bobby think that Dad was protecting him.
Just for a second, there was a look in Bobby's eyes that made Rusty glad that there was no chance that Bobby would ever meet Mom. "And your Dad – " Bobby began after a second.
" – he has to work hard to make ends meet," Rusty said, looking Bobby straight in the eye. "He's away a lot. I help out where I can. Try not to take care of myself as much as I can." He tried to concentrate on showing Bobby that he wasn't a child, that he knew what he was doing. "I get along just fine."
Bobby looked at him for a long moment, and Rusty couldn't quite figure out the expression on his face. "You know you deserve more than this."
He couldn't keep the wonder from his eyes. He tried his best though. "Now you sound like Danny," he said lightly.
"Good," Bobby said simply.
"When Mom was around, I always had to be on my toes," Rusty told him seriously. "Old habits die hard, is all. I'm getting over it. Danny's helping."
"Good," Bobby said again. "You think a lot of Danny, don't you?"
"Danny's amazing," he said simply and then his head was on one side and his eyes were bright. "What were you two talking about earlier?"
Bobby blinked. "What?"
"I don't want Danny hurt. Ever." He was standing up straight now, and he might not look intimidating in any of the traditional ways, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.
"I don't have any intention of hurting either of you," Bobby said after a second, his voice rough and sincere.
Rusty nodded and a second later the door opened and Danny reappeared carrying coffee and sandwiches, and Rusty gestured to the open safe door with a grin and Danny's face lit up with pride and delight.
Everything Rusty wanted.
Bobby was smiling now too, and as Danny started asking questions – the hows and whens – all the admiration and congratulations that had been missing before were very much in evidence, and all the tension of a few moments ago had been wiped away.
Good. He was pretty sure he'd got away with that.
Waiting was dull but necessary and at least Bobby was used to it.
There had been part of him – foolishly, after everything he'd seen – that had been dreading waiting in a car with two teenagers. He was almost certain that kids were supposed to have short attention spans.
Not these kids apparently.
They were talking in low voices when they talked at all, just as content as Bobby to give it another hour from the moment the last light had gone out.
He was impressed all over again. Felt like it was for the hundredth time that weekend.
Both Danny and Rusty had managed to get the safe open that afternoon. And by the time Bobby had reset the combination that last time they were able, by a joint effort, to get it open in just over ninety minutes. Oh, that was still too long for him to want them trying it for real, but still. He hadn't truly been expecting them to get it this weekend. They really were remarkable.
The raw natural talent, that was one thing. That was something to be wondered at. Marvelled over. Celebrated. Their maturity and self-control – oh, that was something else altogether. He was concerned – frightened – that came from somewhere darker in life.
Bobby was good at reading between the lines, and even though he was feeling much happier than he might have been, there was still plenty to trouble him. Both boys had been at pains to emphasise how independent they were. Not just in the headstrong way of teenagers. Danny had spoken of his Mom like she was a distant acquaintance that took no responsibility for him whatsoever. And it hadn't escaped Bobby's notice that when Danny had been telling him about the time after his father died he'd made it sound like without Rusty he'd have had nothing. And when Rusty had been talking about his father...there'd been respect in his voice, but no warmth.
He had top think that the boys didn't get a while lot of attention and even less love.
He could only be glad that they had each other.
As for Rusty's mom...God, he wished he could get his hands on the woman. He didn't know exactly what she'd done and he guessed he never would, but whatever it was, to leave such a lasting mark, to have Rusty still jumping at shadows four years later...it must have been bad. It must have been very bad indeed.
He'd seen children flinch away from him before. During the cases that gave him nightmares for weeks afterwards, he'd seen kids who'd long passed the point of believing that adults could do anything but hit and hurt. And yeah, those times he would step back and let someone more qualified take over, but he still should have known better. God, he'd never meant to scare Rusty like that. He'd just assumed that Rusty had known he was there. He'd made enough noise, he just hadn't accounted for the sheer level of concentration Rusty was displaying.
Next time he'd be more careful.
And there was going to be a next time. He was going to make it clear to the boys that "Call me if you need anything" meant just that. They could trust him.
"That's an hour," Danny said softly as the clock on the dashboard ticked over the last second.
"So it is," Bobby agreed. "Let's go."
He was breaking into his uncle's house. Honestly, this ranked fairly high on the list of things he'd never thought he'd do. Might be his plan and they might not be stealing anything but there was still something distasteful about it all. And somehow, if they were caught, he didn't think that Uncle Harold would give credit to the argument that they weren't stealing anything so that made it okay. Actually, if they got caught, Bobby being here could only make it worse. Just them and maybe, maybe they could have claimed they were just pulling some prank. And there would have been anger and disappointment and he had no doubt that Mom would have done her best to make sure he never saw Rusty again, but there was no way the police would have got involved. If Bobby was caught alongside them, all bets were off.
He just had to make sure they weren't caught. Bobby had listened to their plans and he seemed confident. And they might never have needed any kind of outside validation before, but he had to admit it was kinda nice.
He hung back as Rusty crouched to pick the lock of the conservatory door, automatically taking his usual position, keeping look-out and watching Rusty's back, as it should be.
With a sudden realisation he glanced at Bobby. Bobby had just assumed that they could get the door open. Oh, they were trusted. He smiled.
A second later and Rusty straightened up and tried the handle and the door opened silently.
Good.
Once inside they walked in silent single file through to the study and, without a word being exchanged, Danny was wedging the door shut and Rusty was checking the window. If it was opened it'd set off the alarm, but they'd figured it was still their best alternative exit. If someone was trying to get through the door, the alarm wasn't going to make a whole lot of difference.
Once they'd exchanged a glance, reassuring each other that they were secure for the moment, they turned their attention to Bobby, crouched in front of the safe, the stethoscope already pressed against the door.
"Like I said," Bobby told them in a low voice. "This safe actually has one less tumbler than the one we practiced on. So it's easier. But the locking mechanism is actually in a different place. It's a little higher. Just keep listening till you find it."
Danny nodded, making a mental note, and carried on watching as Bobby dealt with the safe. This time, when it wasn't for a demonstration, when Bobby wasn't taking the time to go over each step for their benefit, the process seemed even more fantastic and impossible than before.
He wondered if they'd ever find it that easy, that instinctive.
"Practice," Rusty murmured in his ear and Danny nodded vehemently at the suggestion.
Oh, they would.
Fifteen minutes. That was all the time it took, and the briefcase was sitting right in the middle of the safe and Danny lifted it out carefully. He laid it down on the corner of the desk and carefully flipped it open, and Rusty stepped forwards holding the rewritten memo between two gloved fingers, and he gingerly pushed it up against the corner of the briefcase where Uncle Harold couldn't help but see it, but where it looked like it had just got shoved accidently. He had absolute confidence that Uncle Harold would find it far easier to believe that he'd overlooked the memo than believing that his nephew had broken into his house in the middle of the night, cracked his safe and planted a forged document. On the whole, Danny was pretty satisfied that this sort of thing just didn't happen in the world Uncle Harold thought he lived in.
Smiling, he replaced the briefcase in the safe.
"Little to the left," Rusty told him softly.
Danny nodded and shifted it slightly and shot Rusty an enquiring glance. Apparently confident, Rusty nodded. Good. Unless Uncle Harold had a mind that worked like Rusty's - unlikely – he'd probably have never noticed the difference, but as long as perfection was possible why in the world would he settle for anything less?
They stood back and Bobby carefully closed and reset the safe.
"Combination is 4012," he told them in a low voice. "Just in case you ever need it again."
Impossible to imagine why they would. But then last week they'd never have imagined they'd need it in the first place.
They made their way out of Uncle Harold's house and Danny was confident that they hadn't left a single trace that they'd been there and the pride and exhilaration was burning deep inside him, and when he met Rusty's eyes he could see the same fierce joy.
They had done as much as they could and they had done as well as he could imagine.
Now they could only wait and hope and pray that the plan worked.
Bobby had insisted on driving them back to Danny's place despite all their protests to the contrary, that it wasn't necessary and they didn't want to put Bobby out, that they were perfectly fine getting the bus or even walking.
Somehow Bobby hadn't looked at all impressed with either of those ideas and Rusty bit back on telling him that he'd done it plenty of times before.
All their arguments were a little hard to win when they'd already told Bobby that he would be staying at Danny's and that Danny's Mom was off at Richard's again.
"You want to come in?" Danny asked as Bobby pulled up into the driveway and Rusty could hear the hopeful smile in his voice.
Yeah. The last couple of days had been something special. Even with everything they were hiding, even with all the fear and doubt and uncertainty, just being taken seriously, just the suggestion that they had impressed, that they were liked and respected...oh, it was flattering, no doubt about it. Flattering to him. Sunlight to Danny. And Rusty could smile because Danny stood tall.
Bobby hesitated. "Sure. Why not?" he said at last.
"'s got to be a habit," Danny said as they headed to the front door. "After we've done anything – interesting – we always seem to stay up half the night."
"I think most people do," Bobby suggested, a small smile gracing his face. "The night after a really major job can go for days, drinking, smoking, playing cards."
"Well. Two out of three," Rusty mused.
"You're really too young to smoke," Bobby commented half-heartedly.
Uh huh. They all knew why that made him a hypocrite.
Bobby sighed. "It's bad for you."
"We know," Rusty said levelly.
"Talking of drinks, do you want one?" Danny asked brightly, standing in the living room door and glancing over towards the drinks cabinet.
Oh, probably not a good idea. Rusty wouldn't be at all surprised if Danny's Mom had the level in every bottle memorised, just in case. And he doubted that she'd accept that Danny was just being a good host.
Thankfully, and unsurprisingly, Bobby demurred. "Nah. I'm driving and I've got to head in to work at some point tomorrow. I'll take a cup of coffee if you're offering."
Danny nodded and vanished into the kitchen.
Rusty eyed Bobby curiously. "Work?" he asked, because he'd figured that this was Bobby's job and the hours were flexible.
"I'm an FBI agent," Bobby said nonchalantly.
For a second Rusty stared hard, looking for even the slightest hint that he was being made fun of.
Nothing.
Huh.
He grinned. "Bet you love watching people's faces when you say that."
"It has its moments," Bobby agreed with a snort of laughter.
"What does?" Danny wanted to know, coming back into the room.
"Bobby's an FBI agent," Rusty explained.
"Oh," Danny blinked. "Going to bust us?"
"For anything in particular?" Bobby asked dryly.
Danny pursed his lips. "I'll get back to you."
Bobby laughed and shook his head. "So what card games do you play?"
Ten minutes later and Danny and Bobby were sitting with cups of coffee and Rusty had a mug of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and poker had been vetoed in favour of blackjack.
They'd never played before and Bobby was shuffling the deck and somehow they'd got on to telling Bobby about teaching the football team to play poker that time, and Bobby was laughing and everything was very much alright in the world.
"So they took three hours to get it?" Bobby asked.
"Longest three hours of my life," Rusty agreed with a grin, and they somehow wandered into telling Bobby all about the spinning wheel in the library, and Bobby quietly suggested that they could cut the power to the alarm, and the guitar and the moment when the roof had fallen in, and Bobby was shaking his head, choked with laughter.
A couple of hands were played and the game seemed simple enough. Bobby had explained that it was all about getting as close to 21 as possible and that all the advantages were with the house, but as Rusty watched the flow of cards, he started to realise something else.
"You don't want to do that," he murmured, leaning in as Danny was about to hit.
Danny looked at him curiously.
"We've had two aces, a jack and a ten," he explained. "And seven low cards. Most likely you're going to get more'n a ten and – "
" – I'll be bust," Danny nodded. "So we've got to keep track of what cards have been played?" He looked at Bobby reproachfully. "You didn't mention that we should be doing that."
For a moment it looked like Bobby was entirely lost for words. He took a couple of deep breaths. "That's...not actually the way you're supposed to play the game," he explained carefully. "Most places call that cheating."
Oh. Rusty looked down at the cards in front of him and wondered exactly how he was supposed to play without knowing what cards were where.
Danny frowned. "So you're saying we shouldn't – "
" – no, I'm saying that you probably don't want to talk about what you're doing out loud," Bobby explained with a small smile. "You need to learn to do it subtly if you want to count cards."
Rusty thought that maybe he wanted to count cards. He leaned forwards. "So how do we do it?"
Bobby shook his head, smiling some more. "Okay. More lessons."
It was three o'clock before the night wound down and Bobby reluctantly insisted that it was time for him to leave.
"Thank you, Bobby," Danny said with soft sincerity. "We'd have been in real trouble without you. We owe you one." More than one. He had no idea what they'd have done without Bobby, but seemed like they'd have been pretty screwed.
"You don't owe me anything," Bobby said immediately, looking at him and Rusty seriously again. "I helped you because I wanted to and that's an end to it."
"Doesn't mean we're not grateful," Rusty put in. "You've been really great to us."
Bobby nodded. "It's been a pleasure working with you boys. And I want you to call me if you need anything. Anything," he emphasised. "You understand? Not just something like this. If you need me for anything, just call."
They'd asked Bobby for help this once. Danny really didn't want to do it again, even if Bobby had turned out to be...well.
(A friend.)
"Thanks," he said again, softly.
"I'll see you at Leo's in a couple of weeks when the shares pay off."
"If the shares pay off," Rusty corrected.
"Right," Bobby agreed. "If they do, I'll see you in a few weeks. Check with Leo."
Right. Danny nodded. They'd probably be seeing Leo again. "Thanks, Bobby. See you."
"Goodbye for now," Bobby said. "Take care of yourselves."
They watched him drive off.
"Well – " Rusty said at last.
" – yeah," Danny agreed.
Strange to think this was over.
He wondered if they'd ever see Bobby again.
With a weary smile and silence, they headed upstairs to bed.
"What were you and Bobby talking about this afternoon?" Rusty asked presently, in the darkness.
Oh. He stared at the gloom, eyes burning just a little, and he thought about what he'd said to Bobby, and about what Rusty meant to him. He sighed softly. "Stuff," he said vaguely.
Rusty was waiting patiently.
He sighed again. "He wanted to know why we had to do this. I told him...I told him about Dad. I told him I want to stay here."
Rusty's hand crept into his.
I want you to stay with me. Rusty didn't say it – would maybe never say it – but Danny heard it just fine.
He smiled.
They'd slept for half the day, seemed like, and they'd spent the rest curled up on the living room sofa, staring at meaningless TV, right up until the point when they heard the front door slam shut and that was that.
They were already on their feet when his Mom swept angrily into the room, closely followed by Uncle Harold.
"Hi," Danny began cautiously, careful not to assume, not to annoy. "How was your – "
" – Robert, I think it's time for you to go home," Mom said through thin lips, glaring at Rusty like he was nothing, or less than nothing, and it took the feeling of Rusty's hand resting against his back – where no one could see or know, of course – to keep him quiet and restrained.
"I should think so too," Uncle Harold commented huffily. "Why you let that sort hang around here at all, Barbara – "
Mom glared at him and that was unusual for a start.
"Of course, ma'am," Rusty cut in respectfully, before the argument went any further. Not like they didn't already know that them arguing would do no good. "I'll see you later, Danny."
Danny nodded, not bothering to say anything, and watched him walk out.
"Your Uncle's deal has fallen through," Mom announced stiffly.
The look of shock and confusion was easy enough. "I'm sorry...?" he offered uncertainly, turning to Uncle Harold who looked faintly irritated.
"It didn't fall through, Barbara," he said exasperatedly, not even looking at Danny. "I just had to move more quickly on it than I'd imagined. I have a job to do. I have to maintain certain priorities."
Yes! They'd done it. They'd actually done it. This crazy, impossible plan had worked and he had to fight back the smile.
"And your nephew's education isn't a priority, of course," Mom said, in that cold, disappointed, vicious tone that Danny had heard so often, and instinctively he'd taken a step backwards towards the door.
He had to get a hold of himself. "I'm not going to private school?" he asked, with wide-eyed innocent hope.
The look Mom turned on him was very familiar too. "No you're not," she snapped. "You get to stay here with your reprobate friend and carry on coasting along, doing nothing worthwhile. I hope you like being a nobody, Daniel Ocean. Because that's all you'll ever be."
Bitterness and disappointment. That's all it was. She was just taking her anger out on him 'cause he was here. He could excuse that.
(He could always excuse that.)
"Honestly, Barbara, I have responsibilities," Uncle Harold said, still glaring, and Danny might as well be invisible. "I have to think of the good of the business. Work comes first and don't pretend you don't know that!"
"May I be excused," Danny said with soft haste, because he knew the way things progressed from here and the yelling was just going to go on till Uncle Harold walked out. That was the way it always worked before, and he couldn't imagine it was going to be any different.
"Go," Mom snapped, and, thankful and grateful, he turned tail and ran.
The window was open and Rusty was sitting cross-legged on Danny's bed.
"It worked," Danny told him in a whisper.
Downstairs, Mom was reaching a crescendo of disappointed vitriol.
Danny smiled at Rusty like they were going to last forever.
It was evening by the time Bobby got home. He'd had to go by the office first - the bureau liked to know what he was doing every now and then.
Molly kissed him tenderly and looked at him critically for a long moment. "I'll put some coffee on. Then you can tell me all about it."
He smiled at her wearily. "Sounds good," he agreed, and as she went into the kitchen, he headed upstairs.
Linus was sleeping and Bobby picked him up very, very carefully, and held him close for a long time.
He stared down at his son, asleep and safe in his arms. "You've got two parents who love you so very much," he whispered. "You're never going to have to fend for yourself like that. I promise."