Disclaimer: I don't own the challenge; that belongs to Lee. Buffy and Angel and respective characters belong to Joss Whedon, and Ocean's Eleven belongs to Warner Bros.
Feedback: Please do.
Challenge: Basically, redo the basic plot of Ocean's Eleven with Buffy and Angel characters. Angel should take the place of Danny Ocean, and Connor as Linus Caldwell. The other characters are up to you.
Other Requirements:
Keep the running gag of the Rusty character always eating/drinking something.
All characters should be at the jobs they were in the movie (Frank a dealer in a casino, Basher in the middle of another heist, Rusty teaching movie stars how to play poker, Danny/Angel in jail, Livingston working freelance for the FBI, etc.)
Angel's Eleven
Back in the hotel, things weren't going as well for the team as they would have liked. Since Angel's team had left to acquire the pinch, none of the others had much to do to occupy their time; Wesley couldn't go out much for fear of blowing his cover when the time came for him to play his part in the heist, Nabbit was trying to avoid attracting attention by hanging around the casino and so remained in his penthouse most of the time, only sneaking into their hotel rooms to discuss the plan when in some kind of 'disguise', and Willow was constantly making sure that the information she'd acquired from the computers didn't change or reconfigure itself in a manner that would prevent her using the link later.
Only Gunn and Giles had spent a significant amount of time in the casino over the last couple of days, and even then they had avoided contact with each other unless it was unavoidable; Giles wasn't even playing blackjack at the table Gunn was dealing at, in case they let something slip. As it was, the group hadn't even spoken to Gunn since arriving in the hotel; they had to create the impression that he had no friends in this part of the world.
Right now, however, Willow had bigger problems than bemoaning the fact that she was losing touch with her new friends when she was having a hard enough time keeping up-to-date with her old ones.
Specifically, the little detail she'd just found on the casino's private web site…
"Oh boy…" she muttered, as she constantly tapped the keys, wishing she could just clear this out of the computers without arousing suspicion even though it was too late for anything like that.
"Problem?" Wesley asked, looking over inquiringly at her; he'd dropped into her room in order to make sure that she was maintaining her programming link into the system.
"You could say that…" Willow muttered, glancing over at the computer screen displaying the hotel entrance just as the rest of the team walked through revolving doors, all in dark sunglasses and all wearing some kind of hat (Angel had decided it was the best way to avoid people noticing their faces without taking stupidly elaborate precautions such as facial make-up).
At least she wouldn't have to wait long to tell the rest of the team the bad news.
Honestly, they only had a few hours to go until everything kicked off- just enough time to get things ready as it was, without any kind of last-minute changes to the fine details about who did what- and now something like this had to happen to them…
As soon as he stepped into the room and saw Willow standing there, her hands on her hips as the computer monitor behind her displayed what looked eerily like his face, Angel knew that something potentially problematic had taken place.
"We have a problem," Willow said simply.
"What; Peaches suddenly became famous for his appearance in hair gel ads?" Spike asked, looking briefly at the picture on the monitor before turning to look at Angel, a joking smile on his face. "What brand do you use, by the way?"
"Spike…" Angel said, glaring threateningly at his former protégé before turning back to look at Willow. "What happened?" he asked, as though nothing more serious had happened then him missing a few minutes of a movie he was watching.
"You've been red-flagged," Willow said, indicating the screen behind her. Looking at it more closely, Angel noticed that it seemed to be his old prison file; it had his weight, his height, distinguishing features, and the crime he'd been imprisoned for (Although Angel noted, with some disgust at the authorities, that the file was using the exaggerated Wolfram & Hart information about his crimes; he definitely had not committed 'Multiple Homicide' when he'd blown up an empty office, and he'd only ever killed any of his opponents in a fight when it was either him or them).
"The second you step onto the floor of that casino, you'll have all eyes on you," Willow explained, as the rest of the team sat down in various chairs around the room while Angel and Willow continued to talk. "You won't be able to so much as point at Abrams without having security coming down on you like someone just demolished the Great Wall of China; the chances of him actually believing that you are who you'll be claiming to be, even with a disguise, are slim to none."
"Ah," Angel said, nodding slightly as he took in what Willow was saying.
"Any ideas about how this happened?" Nabbit asked, looking inquiringly at Angel from where he was sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room.
"I do," Connor stated. As everyone turned to stare at Angel's estranged son, the young pickpocket gave a half-smile in his father's direction before turning to address the entire room. "He's been after Abrams' woman; ended up in a rather… public meeting with her in the casino restaurant a couple of days ago."
"Wait a minute; you were watching that?" Angel said, sitting up to stare incredulously at Connor, apparently unconcerned about this proof of his acting outside the plan. "I thought I told you to focus on Abrams!"
"I told him to do that," Wesley said, staring harshly at his former employer from the door where he'd been standing since the others arrived.
As soon as Wesley spoke, Angel was up and on his feet, walking over to glare directly into Wesley's face.
"What!" he yelled, causing Wesley to flinch back slightly from the sheer volume of the team leader's voice. "Why did you do that?"
"I had to make sure you could leave Buffy alone," Wesley replied, staring back at Angel. "Trust me, I take no pleasure in the fact that I was correct in my guess."
"Wait a minute; Buffy's here?" Willow said, staring incredulously at Angel and Wesley, wishing that Giles was here to back her up; out of the rest of the group, after Angel, Wesley, and herself, Giles had known Buffy the best.
After all, back when Buffy had arrived in Sunnydale, Giles had been one of the few people at school who'd actually known about her secondary 'career' of dealing with criminals, providing them with all kinds of helpful pieces of information when dealing with some of their more eccentric opponents. For a time, he'd even dated Buffy's mother Joyce- as the two oldest unofficial members of their group, they had found a great deal to bring them together- but after Joyce's death of a brain tumour, Giles and Buffy had drifted apart, uncomfortable about the reminder of what they'd lost that was represented by the other.
However, at the moment, Wesley didn't seem too concerned about the volume; he was more concerned with the immediate topic of discussion.
"I'm sorry," he said, staring at Angel with a pained expression on his face. "I didn't know if it would sting you, but it did."
He paused for a moment, and then, having gathered himself sufficiently, said the most difficult sentence he'd ever had to say.
"You're out, Angel."
"He's out!" Gwen said, staring incredulously at Wesley. The rest of the team were looking at the former librarian with similar expressions, but everyone else was too shaken to actually voice their shock at the statement.
"It's that, or we shut down right now," Wesley said, as he glanced around briefly at the rest of the team. "His involvement puts us all at risk; if Abrams realizes that we know Angel, we could all end up in prison."
"This isn't your call!" Angel said, standing up and walking over to glare at Wesley.
Staring back at Angel, Wesley shook his head.
"You made it my call," he said, a regretful tone in his voice as he looked at Angel. "When you put her ahead of us… you made it mine."
"This is my job!" Angel said, glaring at Wesleyt. "I went to all this effort to come up with a means of stopping the last remnants of Wolfram & Hart; you can't just take it away from me!"
Wesley could only shake his head at that.
"I can… and I will," he said, his arms folded as he looked at Angel. "You made a choice, Angel; you have to learn to live with the consequences of your actions."
For a moment, as the two men stared at each other, the rest of the people in the room thought that they were about to come to blows…
But then Angel seemed to give up; he just sighed, gave everyone else in the room an apologetic glance, and then walked out to the balcony. He only paused to stare briefly at Connor, a harsh glare of the kind that Connor normally directed at Angel rather than the other way around, and then he was out of the room.
"But… but... he can't just be out!" Willow said, staring in shock at Wesley. "W-who's going to take his place?"
Wesley just smiled slightly and glanced over at Connor.
"Do you think you're up for it?" he asked, the right corner of his mouth turning totally upwards in a half-smile as Connor's eyes widened in surprise.
For a moment, Connor's eyes drifted away from the rest of the team to look out at the window where Angel was currently standing, as his father leaned on the balcony, staring listlessly off into space.
In that moment, Connor regretted what he'd done more than he had ever regretted anything about his relationship with his biological father.
Just because it was the right thing to do- after all, as Willow had said, Angel couldn't even pick his nose in the casino without attracting attention any more- didn't make it any easier. He
But, right now, it was all going to be down to him. Oz, Faith, Gwen, Spike, Giles, Gunn, and Wesley all already had various parts to play for the plan to succeed, nobody could attend to the monitors and casino computer system as well as Willow could, and Nabbit was too well-known for any disguise to be successful.
It was him, or it was nobody.
He could only nod.
Glancing over at Willow, Wesley nodded. "Find Giles, Gunn and Nabbit; let them know about the change in plan."
Looking around at the others, he nodded once at them all. "The curtain goes up at seven; we have only a few hours left to prepare. Everyone get ready."
Nodding briefly- she didn't trust herself to speak right now- Willow stood up and left the room, leaving the rest of the team staring around at each other incredulously, as though they couldn't believe what they'd just seen take place in front of them. As Wesley walked out of the room to the balcony, apparently to have a brief word with Angel, Connor could only collapse onto the nearby bed as he tried to process what had just taken place.
He was now the man who would be responsible for implementing the most crucial part of the plan…
As the room suddenly fell silent once more, Oz looked around at the rest of the people in the room, a curious expression on his face.
"Buffy's with Abrams now?" he asked, tilting his head to one side in an quizzical manner.
Nobody responded; they were still all too surprised at what had just taken place.
"She's too tall for him," Oz said simply.
Then he got up, opened a nearby chest of drawers, pulled out a black long-sleeved skintight shirt and a pair of equally dark (And form-fitting) trousers, and headed off to the bathroom to change.
A couple of hours later, time rapidly running against them, Connor stood in the middle of the room, dressed in a sharp, conservative suit– a far cry from the threadbare thief that he'd been back when Angel had recruited him on the train. As the rest of the team prepared for their parts of the mission (The closest member of the group at present was Willow, and she was in the adjoining room), Wesley was the only other person in the room at present, sitting on the bed as he studied Connor's posture.
"Where are you going to put your hands?" he asked, raising a critical eyebrow at the young man.
Uncertainly, Connor moved to clasp his hands, but Wesley instantly shook his head.
"No," he said simply.
"And not the pockets either," he added, as Connor's hands moved for his pockets.
"And don't touch the tie; look at me!" he said once more, as Connor's right hand moved upwards as though to fiddle with the knot of his tie.
As Connor moved to obey, Wesley indicated his legs, which were positioned about shoulder-width apart.
"Is that how you're going to stand?" he asked, staring at Connor critically.
Connor shifted his balance slightly, moving his legs closer together, but Wesley shook his head.
"Wrong again," he said, before his expression became more fixed as he stared at Connor. "If I ask you a question, and you have to think of the answer, where are you going to look?"
Connor looked down.
"Death," Wesley said, shaking his head. "You look down, they know you're lying-"
As Connor looked up uncertainly, Wesley barely even paused for breath.
"-and up they know you don't know the truth."
Reaching over, he placed a hand on Connor's shoulder, drawing the young man's attention to him as he continued to speak.
"Don't use three words when one will do, don't shift your eyes, look always at your mark but don't stare, be specific but not memorable, funny but don't make him laugh, he's gotta like you then forget you the moment you've left his sight, and for God's sake," here Wesley raised a finger to emphasis what he was about to tell Connor, "whatever you do, don't, under any circumstances-"
"Wes, can you come here for a second?" Willow's voice called out from off in the next room, breaking Wesley off in mid-rant.
"Of course; I'll be right there," Wesley said, nodding briefly at Connor before he walked out of the room, leaving Connor standing in the middle of the room, utterly bewildered, a thousand commandments to remember and what seemed like only a few seconds to remember them all in.
It was official; this was going to be very difficult…