Nate's suit looked expensive, classy; the open collar and hat, however, gave him a casual, relaxed look. Exactly the type of look a questionable businessman would have.

He walked up to Mouser's office and rapped on the door.

"Come in," the mark's voice replied, raspy and overworked. Nate did as the man instructed and went in.

Mouser was sitting at his desk, flicking through papers and crunching numbers. He paused when he saw Nate; the smart suit and sly grin of an eager businessman an unseen sight in Mouser's damp and dusty office.

"Can I help you?" Mouser asked with a hint of confusion in his voice.

"Probably, yes," Nate stated as he shut the door behind him and began meandering about the office; trying hard not to touch anything. "My name is Josh Lawson and I'm here to present to you an exciting opportunity."

"Really?" the mark asked, still confused.

"Yes. Really," Nate replied. "I work for a group who help, uh, with alternate funding."

"Alternate funding?" he asked, baffled.

"Yes, like your scholarship program," Nate prompted.

"Oh," he said, his voice still bewildered. "Oh," he repeated, this time with realisation in his tone. "Well, I'm very interested. Our funds for that program have been," he paused and let out an unsanitary cough. "limited. What did you have in mind?"

"It's called table turning," Nate began pulling out a chair to sit down on and then, seeing its state, decided against it and shook his head at himself; he honestly couldn't fathom how, in such a prestigious school, someone could have such a sordid office.

He also couldn't understand how such a disgusting person could work in such a prominent place. But then again, Nate thought, it's not as though he spent a lot of his time with people. The majority of his hours were spent crunching numbers in his office.

"Table turning?" Mouser queried.

"It's a simple play really," Nate smiled.. "The basic premise is that you charge a little bit extra here, a little bit extra there, not so much that the people you're charging will notice," he added as a side note.

"Like?"

"Like, for example," Nate continued as he paced about the room. "Bring up the cost of parking, uniforms, charge them for locker use or up the fee on late library books."

"But that would only bring in, what, maybe, a hundred dollars?" Mouser asked.

"Per kid," Nate clarified. "And you got, what 800 students minimum? That's 800 grand."

"So you're saying that, being in charge of the money and the cash flow, I up the price of the little things, don't tell the board and then pocket the money myself?"

Nate nodded, a sly grin growing upon his face. "Thought you'd catch on quick," he praised.

"What's in it for you then?" he questioned.

"Well, it may be easy enough for you to hide your money from the school but from the government, and the IRS, that's a different story. Now, I don't know what you did with the other funds you've acquired but my profession is cleaning funds, but I needed fresh dough," Nate explained.

The man was still for a moment, staring at the papers on his desk; his eyes echoed uncertainty. "I, um, well, don't know."

"You don't have to decide right now," Nate replied, holding his hands up. "Just think about it; here's my card." He tossed a card onto the man's desk. "Call me when you decide to make some money."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Can I leave this stupid school yet?" Abby asked, stuffing her books into her locker.

"I kinda like it here," Hardison replied.

"That's because you get to blow things up," she replied. Hardison grinned at this; he couldn't deny that he enjoyed the perks of being a chemistry teacher. Particularly one that didn't care if he got fired, seeing as it wasn't a real job. "I'm stuck here talking to stuck up teenagers who have waaay too much money."

"Yeah well, we all have way too much money," Hardison grinned.

"How can you have too much money?" Parker queried.

"Yeah but we don't shove it in people's faces like some o' these kids do," Eliot chimed in. "I got told three times today by students that their daddy owns the newspaper or oil or whatever so I need to do what they say."

"I feel sorry for all of the other scholarship students who went here," Abby continued as she walked to her next class. "Half of the students treat you like sh… dirt."

"At least the other half are nice to you?" Parker said, trying to be sympathetic.

"You'd think so," the teenager replied sarcastically. "A quarter of them don't say a word, one eight of them are cordial and the rest are nice. But still, that's ridiculous. You guys stole a country right?"

"Yeah?" Hardison grinned.

"You reckon you can con the kids at the school into being nice?"

"Might just be easier to finish the job and get outta here," Nate suggested alternatively

"Fair enough," Abby shrugged. "So how do you get this guy on the hook?"

"We get Sophie to spook him into needing money, which will make him make a transaction…"

"So you can catch him in the act," she concluded. "Cool."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mouser returned home that evening to find Sophie measuring out the perimeter of his perfectly manicured lot. Perfectly kept rose bushes, azaleas, violets and petunias framed the small, simple yet modern house; clearly he cared more about his personal life than he did his professional one.

"Excuse me?" Mouser queried, placing his brief case down next to his letterbox. "Can I help you?"

"No," Sophie replied in an American accent, looking up only for a moment before she returned to her task. She was dressed in a mediocre suit, and her hair tied into a tight ponytail she screamed banker.

"This is my land," Mouser pointed out.

"Not for long," she sing-songed.

"What do you mean?" he asked in an uncomfortable laugh.

"Mortage payments, tut, tut; you really should get behind on those," Sophie explained as she let the measuring tape snap back before standing up and straightening her jacket.

"Mortgage payments? But I'm up to date…."

"Not according to the bank you're not," Sophie interrupted as she pulled out a folded out piece of paper from her purse and handed it to Mouser.

"I'm ahead on my payments," he said angrily, his hands gripping the letter. "This says I'll lose my house by Friday?"

"That's correct," Sophie smiled.

"But I'm ahead on my payments," he stated again with a clenched jaw.

"Well, that there," Sophie stated, pointing at the letter. "Says that you have to come up with the money."

"By Friday?" he confirmed and Sophie smiled again and nodded.

"Otherwise you're beautifully kept patch of land is going to find itself being turned into a…. I'm thinking parking lot."

Mouser gawked and shoved the letter back into Sophie's arms.

"That won't happen," he exclaimed as he picked up his suitcase and stormed into his house.

"Expect a call Nate," Sophie said proudly as she walked back to her car.

So I'm back, mostly! Thanks for your patience and BIG HUMONGOUS shout out to SweetyKinz, you're Betaing/re sparking my muse and getting me out of my writers block is very much appreciated.

Review if you will, otherwise, have an excellent day =)