I'm a horrible person!

I can't believe I made you wait this long for the next chapter! I'm just really trying to do this story (con) justice so I'm taking my time. On top of that I've just started university/college/whatever you want to call it so my time has been spread thin.

Unfortunately, the next update is a while away =(

I promise you it's coming! And to anyone reading my Psych/Leverage fic, same deal.

Abby sat down awkwardly in the back of the classroom, staring nervously at the people around her. It wasn't the fact that she was on a job that was making her nervous; it was the fact that she was at a new school. She had always hated the first day of school; as a kid, she had moved around a lot as Eliot was moved from base to base and, after his army days, it was safer for them not to stay in one place. Not to mention the fact that Moreau liked to move them from city to city; show that he was still in control.

"Hey," a voice came from next to her.

"Hey," she replied as their home room teacher walked in.

"Morning class," she greeted happily. Abby didn't know it, but she was the client. "We have a new student with us today Miss," she paused to read the name off a slip of paper. "Emily Briggs."

Abby nodded her head as a brief hello before the class began.

"You're new here?" the boy next to her whispered as the teacher was talking.

"That's what the teacher just said," Abby whispered back, strengthening the American part of her accent as she pretended to take notes; she had already taken this class at her own school.

"Where you from?" he persisted.

"New Orleans," she said, sticking to her back story.

"I'm Alan," he said grinning. "Listen, we're having a party tonight. You interested?"

"No," she replied bluntly.

"Why not?" he said with puppy dog eyes.

"Because," she said, turning to face him for the first time, sizing him up; he clearly came from money and he clearly didn't care about anyone or anything but himself. "I'm not interested in helping you steal your dad's Merlot and 100 year old whiskey."

Alan chuckled.

"Actually, my father prefers Shiraz. But suit yourself."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxx

"Two new teachers in one day? How about that," one of the school's History teachers began.

"There's another new teacher?" Hardison enquired, staying fully in character.

"Yeah, Jack Harrison the English teacher," the man said, gesturing over to Eliot, pouring himself a cup of coffee on the other side of the room.

"Perhaps I'll go introduce myself," Hardison said and walked over to Eliot.

"Everything good guys?" Nate asked over the comms.

"Yeah," Eliot replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "This Mouser guy's pretty boring."

"Keeps to himself mostly," Hardison added as he looked over to their mark; a larger, balding man wearing thick glasses which looked like they'd stepped directly out of the eighties, and a cumbersome, unsightly yellow tinged suit; it was no wonder why he kept to himself.

Several Days Earlier

"This is our mark?" Sophie asked in the apartment as they planned the job. She was staring at the image of Kirk Mouser up on the screen. "Because it doesn't look like it."

"Looks can be deceiving," Abby stated, sitting on the couch next to her uncle.

"Sometimes yes," the grifter agreed. "But look; coffee stain on his tie, ill-fitting suit, old, scratched glasses. The man looks like he has the self-esteem of an anorexic teenager."

"The money was transferred to his account," Hardison stated, defending his research.

"I'm not saying you're wrong. I'm just wondering what makes him tick," Sophie explained as she leaned forward on the bench, eyeing down the mark even more carefully. "I bet he stole that money so he can prove to himself that he's got balls."

"Can we move on with the briefing please?" Nate pushed; Sophie had been doing this a lot lately, taking her directors'/actress' lenses to their marks an increasing amount the past few weeks. She hadn't been in a play for the same amount of time and, apparently, she was suffering withdrawals and a minor (and irritating) case of transference.

Sophie shrugged. "Go on," she gestured, though her mind was still churning through all of the possibilities of what made their mark tick.

"So Mouser, this guy is clean," the hacker continued. "He's got no criminal record; the only thing the cops have on him is an old parking ticket from 'ninety- two."

"Doesn't seem like much of a criminal." Abby stated.

"People like this, they're opportunistic criminals," Sophie began as she stood up straight. "They're stealing the money because the opportunity to do so was presented to them. So, to play him, we give them an even better opportunity, high yield, low risk sort of thing and…"

"Get him to slip." Abby concluded.

"Stop teaching her how to be a criminal Sophie," Eliot scalded from the other side of the room.

"It's character building," Sophie yelled before she turned back to the teenager.

"You gonna go talk to him?" Hardison asked, lightly nudging Eliot with his elbow.

"Ain't my job to," he replied, smugly taking another sip of his drink. The hacker gave Eliot an unappreciative stare before mumbling something and walking over to the mark.

"David Connell," Hardison introduced, his hands folded comfortably behind his back.

"Uh, Kirk Mouser," the mark replied, somewhat surprised. "I'm in charge of the money here."

You're sure that it's him?" Sophie asked once more.

"Yes, Sophie, yes I'm sure," Hardison replied, crossing his arms defiantly.

"But…."

"Look, the money went through his account not to mention he's the only one who has access to all of the accounts where the money was taken," the hacker explained.

"The backstory just doesn't fit," Sophie complained.

"'Ts not a play Sophie," Eliot growled in frustration.

"Can we just get back to the briefing," Nate complained once more and all heads turned to Hardison to finish his presentation.

"Very cool, very cool," Hardison replied.

"And what do you do?" the mark asked the hacker as he reached for a doughnut.

"I'm the new chemistry teacher," Hardison informed proudly.

"What happened to the old one?" Mouser enquired and Hardison considered for a moment telling the man how they possibly pulled a Breaking Bad and planted a small amount of drugs in his car and how they possibly called the police and informed them of such. Then he remembered that this guy was their mark and shook the thought from his mind.

"Isn't that a bit, uh, immoral?" Abby questioned. "I mean, the guy hasn't done anything wrong?" she continued, referring to the Chem teacher.

"You'd think that wouldn't you?" Hardison asked sarcastically. "I went through his computer files, browser history, spending habits…."

"Cut the geek Hardison," Eliot threatened.

"Anyway, guy should not be working in a school," Hardison continued, ignoring the hitter's veil (he hoped) threats. "He's a grade A perv. I found photos of young…"

"Yeah, okay, I'm totally okay with the planting of drugs on this guy," Abby agreed

"Anyway," Hardison said, shaking the man's hand once more. Only, this time, with his other hand holding his phone, he placed it next to the man's pocket, allowing the high tech device to clone the man's phone. "I should be getting to class."

"Of course, doesn't pay to be late on your first day," Mouser replied, a forced chuckle protruding from his lips. Hardison nodded, flipping his phone in his hand as he walked away while the man buried his face into a donut.

Once he was out of sight, and standing back next Eliot, he looked through the phone.

"Nothin' outta the ordinary Nate," Eliot informed.

"Yeah," Hardison confirmed. "Looks like he's working alone. The only contacts he got is his mamma, brother and his hairdresser."

"Good," Nate replied as he adjusted his hat rear-view mirror. "Makes my job a lot easier."

Again, thank you for your patience and wonderful awesome reviews and such!

For anyone who doesn't know, I'm a sucker for a good review *hint hint*

Ta