AN: Hey, I'm kinda new to Ocean's Eleven fiction. (takes a look around)

Disclaimer: I do not own Ocean's Eleven, Twelve, or Thirteen. But a girl can have dreams!

Summary: Classic how Danny met Rusty story. Seventeen-year-old Rusty hates being tossed around in the foster system… Until he lands with the Oceans. They're nice enough people (if a bit strict) and their wayward son occasionally stops by for a visit. But when Mr. and Mrs. Ocean start to express an interest in his future, how can he tell them that he wants to be a thief? Eventual Danny/Rusty.

So, yeah, that's the story pitch. I'm gonna be honest - the chapters will be short. But they will also be in abundance. This is a looong story, spanning from their teenage years to some years after the events of Ocean's Thirteen. I hope you hang on till then.

Enjoy the story!

Rusty Ryan did not like pity. He'd never let any of his foster parents spoil him - except with food, but that was only because his real parents hadn't fed him enough. Strict rules were always laid down as soon as he met his new caretakers: no touching, no coddling, and no getting into his business. In other words, leave him the hell alone. Most foster parents respected these rules. They seemed to understand that no matter what they did, he wasn't going to change. But not the Oceans. They were a different story entirely.

Michael and Brenda Ocean signed on as fosters after their son left for - whatever the hell he did. They were newbies to the program, which meant they weren't familiar with the rules. Brenda hugged him the first day and Michael offered to buy anything he wanted for his new room. Which he locked himself in the remainder of the night. Don't get him wrong, they were nice people. He was sure they'd make some other child very happy. But a family was a foreign concept to him. He just wanted to be on his own and enjoy the freedom of stealing anything he could get his hands on. Why couldn't they understand…?

"Rusty!" Brenda's sweet voice floated through the door, tinged with sadness. "I'm sorry if we overwhelmed you. Please, come out."

He ignored her, doodling on the edge of his new desk. Or their son's old desk. Hey, was that the schematics to the local high school?

"I made dinner, if you want any."

Oh, the woman was good. But Rusty still played deaf, scanning the drawing etched into the side of the desk. He could use it for messing with his new classmates and teachers.

"…All right, then. The food will be in the refrigerator, if you want any later."

Rusty didn't like to talk about his mother and father - something his social workers had picked up on very quickly. If they tried to ask, he'd twist the conversation around to their problems. It was a defensive tactic that he was certain would carry into his adult life, but it was useful. It kept him safe. Safety and awareness; he'd survived on them after his parents had gone to jail. Safety, as in guarding his heart, and awareness, as in having to know everything that was going on.

Details were important to him. He could already tell that the Oceans would throw him out if they discovered his stealing habit, because that was why their son had left (the engravings, the subtle hiding places, and discarded wallets in the closet were big clues). And the wild look in Michael's eyes? Rusty had noticed the moment he'd walked in the door. He was aggressive when things didn't go his way. If Rusty ever did meet the man's son, he'd have to check for scars. This was why he hated the system. They always stuck him with wack-jobs.

"You're her new project?"

Rusty didn't even need to look at the man in the window to know he was cultured and handsome. His voice said it all. It was deep, but soft, like his mother's expensive velvet shawls that he'd loved the feel of when she gave him her rare hugs. Daniel Ocean - that had been the name they'd mentioned? - had a relaxed demeanor, from his loose broad shoulders, to his expressive hands, to his trusting smile. But Rusty wasn't a trusting person. At least, he hadn't been, until tonight. Wait, what had been the question?

"I have that effect on people," Danny said without a hint of arrogance. Rusty was almost impressed. "If you don't mind my asking, what happened to put you in the system?"

What happened… He'd been asked that same question so many times. And some suave stranger wasn't going to get it out of him so easily.

"Parents were jerks," Rusty answered without addendum, finishing his sketch of a Doberman eating his social worker.

"And you have trust issues. Nobody's perfect."

Rusty resisted the urge to throw his pencil at Danny's smirking face, because that was just childish. There were better ways to express displeasure. For example:

"Fuck off, this isn't your room anymore," he snapped simultaneously with the pencil lead, glaring at his un-shaded picture. "I don't need advice from criminals."

"I prefer gentleman thief," Danny chuckled softly, slipping into the room and closing the window in one fluid movement. "Criminal just seems so harsh. And what about you?"

Rusty rubbed at the corner of his mouth like he was thinking, but it was really a sign that he was nervous. He hadn't been expecting someone like Danny to pop up in his window. It was obvious that Danny was a thief, but could he be trusted? Could this be a way out for Rusty, an escape from the system? And who did Danny think he was, barging in here and making him hope? Rusty had never considered taking help before. He had never wanted to consider it. But now…

"I don't do anything major," Rusty finally replied, turning to find Danny sitting cross-legged on the bed. "Just pick pockets and wire cars."

"It's a start," Danny said approvingly, and since when did Rusty need his approval? "Try for something bigger next time. Like an antique's store or small jewelry store. Even better, steal from your teachers. They have some nice stuff lying around."

"But I-" Rusty stifled the thought, swiveling his chair back to the desk. "Good ideas."

"What?"

The question sounded a lot closer and Rusty could feel Danny's presence behind him. He snatched up the nearest pen and scrap of paper to keep his hands occupied and started another drawing, a woman in a velvet shawl. God, he really needed to get his head together. And Danny wasn't helping matters.

"You thought I was offering an out?" Danny guessed and knew he was right when Rusty's shoulders tensed. "Sorry, but I don't work with kids."

The woman in the velvet shawl grew fangs.

"That doesn't mean I won't be checking in on your progress. Look… My dad isn't going to hurt you. He may threaten, but my mom made him go to anger management classes after he threw a liquor bottle at me-" Danny laughed, though Rusty didn't understand why he would. That was awful. "-He had horrible aim. Anyway, they're good people. They'll take care of you. I know high school doesn't seem all that important, but you need to graduate. In fact, you should go to college, but that's your decision. In the long run, you'll find that having an education will make the job easier."

Rusty thought about that for a moment. Then snorted.

"How many strays have you given that speech to?"

"Just you," Danny admitted with the first hint of embarrassment he'd shown since he arrived. "Was it too much?"

"No," Rusty sighed, erasing his mother's fangs and giving her a brilliant smile instead. "You're right. But after graduation maybe?"

"I thought you had trust issues?"

Danny sounded smug, but Rusty didn't care by this point. If Danny could teach him how to be a big-time con, then the least he could do was trust him. Rusty added the finishing touches to his mother's figure, and wrote his name at the bottom. He had a million other like it, but this one was different. It seemed more real. Danny glanced over his shoulder.

"That's pretty good," he complimented, entirely candid, with a smile that made Rusty itch to draw it. "Think I could have it?"

Rusty was surprised. No one had ever taken an interest in his little hobby before.

"Why would you want it?" he asked curiously, already folding it up to give to Danny.

Danny just flashed that smile again, the one Rusty was sure wasn't appropriate to be using on someone you had known for barely ten minutes.

"To remember you by."

Rusty had a feeling that he would never need anything from Daniel Ocean to remember him. And, honestly? Danny hadn't needed anything either. But Rusty wouldn't figure that out until much, much later.

AN: Um… Yeah, I don't know if I really got their voices. I mean, they aren't supposed to be exactly like they are in the movies, because they're younger, but- Well, tell me what you think. If I get positive reviews, I'll continue. If not… I'll delete it and try again. Ciao!