The House Always Wins 11/?
May. 17th, 2005 12:58 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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vigorliAuthor: Lara
Rating: R for language
Disclaimer: Use of real people plus Duffy's characters is all without consent. I don't know any of them.
Note: Another chapter with crossover from Boondock Saints. The idea of Murphy & Elijah has driven me to insanity.
THE HOUSE ALWAYS WINS
Eleven
Viggo threw down his pencil and rubbed at his eyes. They hadn’t been working on the plan for long, yet he seemed to be hitting walls at every turn. “We’ll get the box in there somehow. Then Dave will pop out like a stripper in a birthday cake, flip the switch, and blow the door.”
Bean’s mind drifted to the idea of Dave as a stripper, then kicked into high gear. “Wait a minute. Did you just say DAVE?”
“Yeah…he’s the most flexible of us all, as I’m sure you know firsthand. He can fit into a three foot box and…”
“Fuck you.” Bean jumped up and left the table.
Dave, Sean Astin and Elijah were on the sofa watching TV. They stared at Bean as he barreled through the room and went out onto the balcony, slamming the sliding door. Dave soon followed silently opening the door and slipping through.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” Bean clenched at the railing with white knuckles. He looked out over The Strip, trying to quell the odd feeling of possession that bubbled in his heart.
“Wanna talk about it?” Dave leaned his back against the railing near Bean’s hands.
“Apparently Viggo’s planning on you being a huge part of this whole thing.”
“Oh, yeah.” Dave scuffed his foot along the ground before straightening and pushing himself onto the balls of his feet. He pressed his hands over his head and stretched. “He talked to me about that.”
Bean allowed himself a moment to run his eyes along the sleek line of Dave’s body, and then shook out of it. “You KNOW?”
“Yeah.” Dave smiled at Bean. “I’m not really dancing anymore, but I’m still in decent shape.” He lifted one leg and slowly extended it up over his head, smirking at Bean.
Bean’s mouth watered as his train of thought jumped the track and went over a cliff. “Uh…I don’t doubt your flexibility, Dave. Can you get out and push the damn button when we need you to? This really isn’t your line of work.”
Dave stared at him, smirk fading. “Are you saying I can’t do it? I’m a dancer, not an idiot, Beanie.”
“I didn’t say you were an idiot, Dave. I just…I want to make sure you don’t freeze up in there.”
“Sean, I can’t believe YOU of all people are second guessing me.” Dave angrily leaned back against the railing. His eyes studied Bean’s face, expression eventually softening. “I get it.”
“Get what?” Bean averted his gaze.
Dave turned Bean away from the railing, placing his hands on Bean’s waist. Bean shot a glance towards the hotel room. “They’re not looking, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That’s not it,” Bean said, sighing as he welcomed the familiar weight of Dave’s hands.
Those hands slid up his sides to rest at the base of his neck. “You won’t say it, but you still care. You still care and you’re worried about me.”
“I don’t have a problem telling you I care,” Bean said softly. “I thought you didn’t want to hear it.”
“I do,” Dave said. “I still care about you, too. I never stopped.”
Bean’s eyes fluttered shut at the gentle stroke of Dave’s fingers against his neck. “Good,” he whispered.
“We don’t have much time. Soon this thing will blow up and it will get crazy.” Dave moved in to hug Bean, pressing his cheek against Bean’s shoulder. “Tonight…are you busy?”
“No.” Bean ran his fingers over Dave’s back.
“The MGM Grand. Room fifteen-sixteen.”
Bean’s cell rang, making them both jump. “Sharpe.”
“This is Saint Patrick,’ the accented voice said.
“Bean speaking. Go ahead.” Bean smiled apologetically as he gently pushed Dave away and returned to the suite, sitting back down in his seat at the table.
“This is Connor MacManus. We…hold on, please.” Bean heard a scuffle and Connor’s voice saying, “Shove it…I can’t fuckin’ hear!”
“No problem.” A smile tickled Bean’s lips.
“As I was sayin’, before me jackass brother interrupted, we did yer surveillin’ an’ can tell ya some stuff.”
“What time?”
“We’re at the New York New York. Meet us at tha Statue o’ Liberty in an hour.”
Bean hung up. “That was MacManus. They’ll see us in an hour.”
“Good.” Viggo got up and poured himself more coffee. “Go without me. You don’t need me there.”
“I’m sorry I told you to fuck off.”
“Hmm? Oh…no problem.” Viggo smiled at his old friend. “If you can get a decent report from the twins, all is forgiven.”
“What’s going on?” Elijah came to lean on the back of Bean’s chair.
“I’m going to meet the twins in an hour.” Bean tipped his head back to look at Elijah upside down.
“Can I come? I need out of here.”
“Uh, sure,” Bean said, hiding a smile as he remembered the way Murphy MacManus had eyed Elijah up at their last meeting.
Bean watched Elijah as they headed down the street. The young man wore jeans, sandals and a worn blue t-shirt that matched his eyes. He looked like a high school student. “How’d you get into all this, Elijah?” Bean broke one of his private rules: never ask personal questions.
“Gordo Wood…he’s my dad.” Elijah stopped and pushed the button to get the ‘walk’ signal.
“Holy fuck.” Bean stopped walking, even though it meant he missed the walk signal and had to wait for the busy traffic to stop so he could catch up with Elijah. “Gordo Wood’s your dad?”
“Yeah.” Elijah stopped at a vendor’s cart. “Want some ice cream? I’m buying.”
“No, thank you.” Sean couldn’t focus on something like ice cream while trying to wrap his brain around the new information. “Gordo Wood’s the best in the fucking business. Best EVER. I never made the fucking easy connection between you!”
“Most people don’t.” Elijah smiled sadly. “Gordo’s son shouldn’t be your average pickpocket.”
“I’m sorry, lad. I didn’t mean…”
“I know,” Elijah interrupted, giving his strawberry ice cream a few good swipes with his tongue. Bean stared as Elijah’s face turned bright red, tongue frozen mid-lick. He followed Elijah’s gaze.
Connor MacManus knelt nearby tying his sneaker. Murphy stood behind him, his eyes following every slurp of Elijah’s tongue. The twins wore identical jeans and sneakers. Connor’s shirt was grey. Murphy wore a similar black tee about two sizes too small, which defined his chest, abs and biceps. Elijah was soon staring back just as intensely.
“Connor.” Bean quietly addressed the man.
Connor stood and smiled. “Bean. Ya got quite tha job cut out fer ya. Place is a madhouse, even on a slow day.” He began to give Bean a quick overview of what they had seen.
Murphy finally held out a hand to Elijah. “M’Murphy, Connor’s brother.”
“Uh, I know.” Elijah nervously shook the offered hand. “I’m Elijah.”
“I heard tha Viggo bloke say that.” Murphy nodded. “Ya are possibly tha prettiest thing I ever laid eyes on,” Murphy added in awe. Elijah blushed as red as his ice cream.
“Uh, um, thank you.” His wide eyes darted over Murphy’s body in a quick swoop. “You aren’t so bad yourself.”
Murphy’s grin was sly, more a smirk than anything pure and friendly. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good.” Elijah’s reply was a deep swipe of his red tongue across the melting ice cream in his hand. Murphy swallowed deeply, his eyes unable to stray from Elijah’s mouth. “Hungry?”
Elijah tossed the rest of his ice cream in a nearby trashcan. “Starving.”
“Lunch?” Murphy bounced slightly.
“Love to.” Elijah tugged at Bean’s sleeve. “Don’t wait up. I’ll talk to Viggo tomorrow.”
“What? Elijah!” Bean yelled. Elijah ignored him, allowing Murphy to slide one of his hands into his back pocket. Murphy dragged him down the sidewalk, Elijah throwing a smile over his shoulder as they left.
“Fuckin’ whore,” Connor growled.
“Hey,” Bean said.
“Me brother, not tha boy.” Connor shook his head. “I’ll kick his Irish ass later.”
Viggo’s eyebrows raised when Bean returned without Elijah. “Do I want to know?”
“He went for lunch with Murphy MacManus.” Bean flopped onto the sofa.
Viggo snorted. “Is that what they’re calling it these days? I hope he’s careful…that Irishman looked dangerous, if you know what I mean.”
“If you’d have seen the way Elijah was working his tongue around an ice cream cone, you’d agree with me when I say Murphy might be the one who has to worry,” Bean said, laughing at the thought. “Connor says they’ll go back again any time we like, but let me tell you what he said.”
Three hours later, Bean and Viggo were still knee-deep in maps, diagrams and notes. Bean rubbed at his chin. “It could work, if our planets are all aligned and such.”
“Yeah.” Viggo stretched and went to look out the window. He let his eyes wander over the city, but he did not see one neon sign, one casino, one hotel. All he could see in his mind’s eye were brown curls and an infectious smile.
Rating: R for language
Disclaimer: Use of real people plus Duffy's characters is all without consent. I don't know any of them.
Note: Another chapter with crossover from Boondock Saints. The idea of Murphy & Elijah has driven me to insanity.
THE HOUSE ALWAYS WINS
Eleven
Viggo threw down his pencil and rubbed at his eyes. They hadn’t been working on the plan for long, yet he seemed to be hitting walls at every turn. “We’ll get the box in there somehow. Then Dave will pop out like a stripper in a birthday cake, flip the switch, and blow the door.”
Bean’s mind drifted to the idea of Dave as a stripper, then kicked into high gear. “Wait a minute. Did you just say DAVE?”
“Yeah…he’s the most flexible of us all, as I’m sure you know firsthand. He can fit into a three foot box and…”
“Fuck you.” Bean jumped up and left the table.
Dave, Sean Astin and Elijah were on the sofa watching TV. They stared at Bean as he barreled through the room and went out onto the balcony, slamming the sliding door. Dave soon followed silently opening the door and slipping through.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” Bean clenched at the railing with white knuckles. He looked out over The Strip, trying to quell the odd feeling of possession that bubbled in his heart.
“Wanna talk about it?” Dave leaned his back against the railing near Bean’s hands.
“Apparently Viggo’s planning on you being a huge part of this whole thing.”
“Oh, yeah.” Dave scuffed his foot along the ground before straightening and pushing himself onto the balls of his feet. He pressed his hands over his head and stretched. “He talked to me about that.”
Bean allowed himself a moment to run his eyes along the sleek line of Dave’s body, and then shook out of it. “You KNOW?”
“Yeah.” Dave smiled at Bean. “I’m not really dancing anymore, but I’m still in decent shape.” He lifted one leg and slowly extended it up over his head, smirking at Bean.
Bean’s mouth watered as his train of thought jumped the track and went over a cliff. “Uh…I don’t doubt your flexibility, Dave. Can you get out and push the damn button when we need you to? This really isn’t your line of work.”
Dave stared at him, smirk fading. “Are you saying I can’t do it? I’m a dancer, not an idiot, Beanie.”
“I didn’t say you were an idiot, Dave. I just…I want to make sure you don’t freeze up in there.”
“Sean, I can’t believe YOU of all people are second guessing me.” Dave angrily leaned back against the railing. His eyes studied Bean’s face, expression eventually softening. “I get it.”
“Get what?” Bean averted his gaze.
Dave turned Bean away from the railing, placing his hands on Bean’s waist. Bean shot a glance towards the hotel room. “They’re not looking, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That’s not it,” Bean said, sighing as he welcomed the familiar weight of Dave’s hands.
Those hands slid up his sides to rest at the base of his neck. “You won’t say it, but you still care. You still care and you’re worried about me.”
“I don’t have a problem telling you I care,” Bean said softly. “I thought you didn’t want to hear it.”
“I do,” Dave said. “I still care about you, too. I never stopped.”
Bean’s eyes fluttered shut at the gentle stroke of Dave’s fingers against his neck. “Good,” he whispered.
“We don’t have much time. Soon this thing will blow up and it will get crazy.” Dave moved in to hug Bean, pressing his cheek against Bean’s shoulder. “Tonight…are you busy?”
“No.” Bean ran his fingers over Dave’s back.
“The MGM Grand. Room fifteen-sixteen.”
Bean’s cell rang, making them both jump. “Sharpe.”
“This is Saint Patrick,’ the accented voice said.
“Bean speaking. Go ahead.” Bean smiled apologetically as he gently pushed Dave away and returned to the suite, sitting back down in his seat at the table.
“This is Connor MacManus. We…hold on, please.” Bean heard a scuffle and Connor’s voice saying, “Shove it…I can’t fuckin’ hear!”
“No problem.” A smile tickled Bean’s lips.
“As I was sayin’, before me jackass brother interrupted, we did yer surveillin’ an’ can tell ya some stuff.”
“What time?”
“We’re at the New York New York. Meet us at tha Statue o’ Liberty in an hour.”
Bean hung up. “That was MacManus. They’ll see us in an hour.”
“Good.” Viggo got up and poured himself more coffee. “Go without me. You don’t need me there.”
“I’m sorry I told you to fuck off.”
“Hmm? Oh…no problem.” Viggo smiled at his old friend. “If you can get a decent report from the twins, all is forgiven.”
“What’s going on?” Elijah came to lean on the back of Bean’s chair.
“I’m going to meet the twins in an hour.” Bean tipped his head back to look at Elijah upside down.
“Can I come? I need out of here.”
“Uh, sure,” Bean said, hiding a smile as he remembered the way Murphy MacManus had eyed Elijah up at their last meeting.
Bean watched Elijah as they headed down the street. The young man wore jeans, sandals and a worn blue t-shirt that matched his eyes. He looked like a high school student. “How’d you get into all this, Elijah?” Bean broke one of his private rules: never ask personal questions.
“Gordo Wood…he’s my dad.” Elijah stopped and pushed the button to get the ‘walk’ signal.
“Holy fuck.” Bean stopped walking, even though it meant he missed the walk signal and had to wait for the busy traffic to stop so he could catch up with Elijah. “Gordo Wood’s your dad?”
“Yeah.” Elijah stopped at a vendor’s cart. “Want some ice cream? I’m buying.”
“No, thank you.” Sean couldn’t focus on something like ice cream while trying to wrap his brain around the new information. “Gordo Wood’s the best in the fucking business. Best EVER. I never made the fucking easy connection between you!”
“Most people don’t.” Elijah smiled sadly. “Gordo’s son shouldn’t be your average pickpocket.”
“I’m sorry, lad. I didn’t mean…”
“I know,” Elijah interrupted, giving his strawberry ice cream a few good swipes with his tongue. Bean stared as Elijah’s face turned bright red, tongue frozen mid-lick. He followed Elijah’s gaze.
Connor MacManus knelt nearby tying his sneaker. Murphy stood behind him, his eyes following every slurp of Elijah’s tongue. The twins wore identical jeans and sneakers. Connor’s shirt was grey. Murphy wore a similar black tee about two sizes too small, which defined his chest, abs and biceps. Elijah was soon staring back just as intensely.
“Connor.” Bean quietly addressed the man.
Connor stood and smiled. “Bean. Ya got quite tha job cut out fer ya. Place is a madhouse, even on a slow day.” He began to give Bean a quick overview of what they had seen.
Murphy finally held out a hand to Elijah. “M’Murphy, Connor’s brother.”
“Uh, I know.” Elijah nervously shook the offered hand. “I’m Elijah.”
“I heard tha Viggo bloke say that.” Murphy nodded. “Ya are possibly tha prettiest thing I ever laid eyes on,” Murphy added in awe. Elijah blushed as red as his ice cream.
“Uh, um, thank you.” His wide eyes darted over Murphy’s body in a quick swoop. “You aren’t so bad yourself.”
Murphy’s grin was sly, more a smirk than anything pure and friendly. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good.” Elijah’s reply was a deep swipe of his red tongue across the melting ice cream in his hand. Murphy swallowed deeply, his eyes unable to stray from Elijah’s mouth. “Hungry?”
Elijah tossed the rest of his ice cream in a nearby trashcan. “Starving.”
“Lunch?” Murphy bounced slightly.
“Love to.” Elijah tugged at Bean’s sleeve. “Don’t wait up. I’ll talk to Viggo tomorrow.”
“What? Elijah!” Bean yelled. Elijah ignored him, allowing Murphy to slide one of his hands into his back pocket. Murphy dragged him down the sidewalk, Elijah throwing a smile over his shoulder as they left.
“Fuckin’ whore,” Connor growled.
“Hey,” Bean said.
“Me brother, not tha boy.” Connor shook his head. “I’ll kick his Irish ass later.”
Viggo’s eyebrows raised when Bean returned without Elijah. “Do I want to know?”
“He went for lunch with Murphy MacManus.” Bean flopped onto the sofa.
Viggo snorted. “Is that what they’re calling it these days? I hope he’s careful…that Irishman looked dangerous, if you know what I mean.”
“If you’d have seen the way Elijah was working his tongue around an ice cream cone, you’d agree with me when I say Murphy might be the one who has to worry,” Bean said, laughing at the thought. “Connor says they’ll go back again any time we like, but let me tell you what he said.”
Three hours later, Bean and Viggo were still knee-deep in maps, diagrams and notes. Bean rubbed at his chin. “It could work, if our planets are all aligned and such.”
“Yeah.” Viggo stretched and went to look out the window. He let his eyes wander over the city, but he did not see one neon sign, one casino, one hotel. All he could see in his mind’s eye were brown curls and an infectious smile.
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Date: 2005-05-18 11:43 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2005-05-19 01:33 am (UTC)I have no idea whether to press for more of this or the MacManus-fic. Damn.
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Date: 2005-05-19 01:38 am (UTC)