Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly2022-08-08 09:05 am
iluvroadrunner6) wrote in fandomweekly2022-08-08 09:05 am
Entry tags:
[#146] Your Faith Was Strong But You Needed Proof (White Collar/Leverage)
Theme Prompt: #146 - Creation
Title: Your Faith was Strong but You Needed Proof
Fandom: White Collar/Leverage
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 984
Summary: The Leverage team comes up against a hiccup in their latest job.
“It’s a fake.”
“What do you mean it’s a fake?” Parker stops short just outside the coffee shop she was leaving as Hardison’s voice comes over the comms. “We took it right from his gallery. There’s no way that’s a fake.”
“And yet here we are.”
“You gotta be kidding me.” Eliot chimes in, sounding rightfully angry. As he should. Their mark, Daniel Clayton, had more or less stolen the original painting from a less than fortunate family, and the goal was to take it and give it back to them. But if the painting is a fake…
“Do you think it was a fake all along?” Parker asks.
“I don’t know. The mark seemed pretty convinced it was real, and I don’t think that the Millers would have gone through all this trouble over a fake painting.”
“How do you know it’s fake?” Eliot growls.
“Because Maggie said so.” They see little of Maggie these days, given that it’s Nate’s ex-wife and Nate and Sophie have slipped off into retirement together, but they had needed an art expert for this job, and she’s always happy to lend a hand. “She said it’s a very good fake, but a fake all the same.”
Parker huffs. If it were any other expert, she’d say that they were trying to screw them. But given that it’s Maggie — “What were the signs?”
“She said the forger signed it.”
“Send me a picture.” A few seconds later, her phone dings and she’s looking at a blown up section of the painting. Her eyes trace over the familiar signature and she shakes her head. “I know where the original is.”
“You do?”
“How do you know that, Parker?”
“Because I know who forged it.” She takes a deep breath before tossing her coffee into the trash and heading for her car. “C’mon. We need to get to New York. We need to talk to James Bonds.”
“Who the hell is James Bonds?”
* * * * *
The door to the loft opens and standing on the other side of it is Neal Caffrey. At first, he blinks in surprise, then his smile widens at the sight of the woman in front of him. “Parker.”
“Neal.” She smiles. It’s always good to see old friends. “It’s been a while.”
“Yes it is,” he nods, before stepping to the side. “Come on in.” He waits until she passes into the loft before closing the door. “How’d you find me?”
“You aren’t the only one with friends in the FBI. Though ours are actually friends and not just handling us while we help them bust people.”
“I only help them bust the right people.” Neal smirks as he takes a seat at the table. “Not all that different from what you guys were doing, last I heard.”
“Not wrong.” Parker sighs, before sitting up on the table next to him. “But we have a problem, and we think you might have the solution.”
Neal’s eyebrows go up curiously, before he nods. “I’m all ears.”
“Ever heard of a guy named Daniel Clayton?”
Neal’s got a pretty good poker face when he’s out in the world, but among like-minded people, it’s harder to hide. Maybe because he doesn’t feel he has to. All Parker knows is that she can catch the slight quirk of his lips, and how his posture changes, that he’s all but sitting on something more smug.
“I may have relieved him of certain pieces of his art collection.”
“And created fakes to take their place,” she points out, and Neal shrugs.
“I must obey the inscrutable exhortations of my soul.” Curiosity overrules the smugness. “Why?”
“Do you still have the originals?”
“Do you need one of them?”
Parker huffs, knowing she will not get more out of him until she provides an answer. “Clayton all but stole it from this family. They had passed it down for generations, but they were going to lose their house, and Clayton promised them the financing in exchange.”
“Let me guess. It was a handshake deal, nothing on paper.”
“He didn’t give them near enough and they lost their house anyway.” Parker looks up at him. “The last job we were on was trying to steal it and some other pieces back for the people he took them from, and our art expert flagged this one as one of your fakes.” She flips open the screen to show him the piece that they needed.
Neal looks at Parker, then looks at the phone with a frown. “If I still have it—that job was right before I got arrested so hard to say what they fenced for my defense and what wasn’t—it’s probably in a storage facility Mozzie was managing for me.” He grabs a nearby notepad and scribbles down the number. “He might have moved it, so you’ll have to ask him. But I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”
“I’ll go check in. You got the guy that shot him, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She offers him a smile in return. They go to walk to the door. “Hey, how much time do you have left on the ankle monitor?”
“About two years, give or take. Why?”
She shrugs. “If you ever decide you want to be one of the good guys for a change, I think it would look good on you. And we could always use another face.”
He seems intrigued. “I thought you had Sophie Devereaux for that.”
“Sophie is retired. For good this time.” She shrugs. “And I’m running the show now. I never say no to people I can trust.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He walks her to the door with a nod. “And tell that family you’re helping. I’m sorry for the delay in getting their painting back.”
Parker smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ll let them know it was in good hands.”
Title: Your Faith was Strong but You Needed Proof
Fandom: White Collar/Leverage
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 984
Summary: The Leverage team comes up against a hiccup in their latest job.
“It’s a fake.”
“What do you mean it’s a fake?” Parker stops short just outside the coffee shop she was leaving as Hardison’s voice comes over the comms. “We took it right from his gallery. There’s no way that’s a fake.”
“And yet here we are.”
“You gotta be kidding me.” Eliot chimes in, sounding rightfully angry. As he should. Their mark, Daniel Clayton, had more or less stolen the original painting from a less than fortunate family, and the goal was to take it and give it back to them. But if the painting is a fake…
“Do you think it was a fake all along?” Parker asks.
“I don’t know. The mark seemed pretty convinced it was real, and I don’t think that the Millers would have gone through all this trouble over a fake painting.”
“How do you know it’s fake?” Eliot growls.
“Because Maggie said so.” They see little of Maggie these days, given that it’s Nate’s ex-wife and Nate and Sophie have slipped off into retirement together, but they had needed an art expert for this job, and she’s always happy to lend a hand. “She said it’s a very good fake, but a fake all the same.”
Parker huffs. If it were any other expert, she’d say that they were trying to screw them. But given that it’s Maggie — “What were the signs?”
“She said the forger signed it.”
“Send me a picture.” A few seconds later, her phone dings and she’s looking at a blown up section of the painting. Her eyes trace over the familiar signature and she shakes her head. “I know where the original is.”
“You do?”
“How do you know that, Parker?”
“Because I know who forged it.” She takes a deep breath before tossing her coffee into the trash and heading for her car. “C’mon. We need to get to New York. We need to talk to James Bonds.”
“Who the hell is James Bonds?”
The door to the loft opens and standing on the other side of it is Neal Caffrey. At first, he blinks in surprise, then his smile widens at the sight of the woman in front of him. “Parker.”
“Neal.” She smiles. It’s always good to see old friends. “It’s been a while.”
“Yes it is,” he nods, before stepping to the side. “Come on in.” He waits until she passes into the loft before closing the door. “How’d you find me?”
“You aren’t the only one with friends in the FBI. Though ours are actually friends and not just handling us while we help them bust people.”
“I only help them bust the right people.” Neal smirks as he takes a seat at the table. “Not all that different from what you guys were doing, last I heard.”
“Not wrong.” Parker sighs, before sitting up on the table next to him. “But we have a problem, and we think you might have the solution.”
Neal’s eyebrows go up curiously, before he nods. “I’m all ears.”
“Ever heard of a guy named Daniel Clayton?”
Neal’s got a pretty good poker face when he’s out in the world, but among like-minded people, it’s harder to hide. Maybe because he doesn’t feel he has to. All Parker knows is that she can catch the slight quirk of his lips, and how his posture changes, that he’s all but sitting on something more smug.
“I may have relieved him of certain pieces of his art collection.”
“And created fakes to take their place,” she points out, and Neal shrugs.
“I must obey the inscrutable exhortations of my soul.” Curiosity overrules the smugness. “Why?”
“Do you still have the originals?”
“Do you need one of them?”
Parker huffs, knowing she will not get more out of him until she provides an answer. “Clayton all but stole it from this family. They had passed it down for generations, but they were going to lose their house, and Clayton promised them the financing in exchange.”
“Let me guess. It was a handshake deal, nothing on paper.”
“He didn’t give them near enough and they lost their house anyway.” Parker looks up at him. “The last job we were on was trying to steal it and some other pieces back for the people he took them from, and our art expert flagged this one as one of your fakes.” She flips open the screen to show him the piece that they needed.
Neal looks at Parker, then looks at the phone with a frown. “If I still have it—that job was right before I got arrested so hard to say what they fenced for my defense and what wasn’t—it’s probably in a storage facility Mozzie was managing for me.” He grabs a nearby notepad and scribbles down the number. “He might have moved it, so you’ll have to ask him. But I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”
“I’ll go check in. You got the guy that shot him, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She offers him a smile in return. They go to walk to the door. “Hey, how much time do you have left on the ankle monitor?”
“About two years, give or take. Why?”
She shrugs. “If you ever decide you want to be one of the good guys for a change, I think it would look good on you. And we could always use another face.”
He seems intrigued. “I thought you had Sophie Devereaux for that.”
“Sophie is retired. For good this time.” She shrugs. “And I’m running the show now. I never say no to people I can trust.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He walks her to the door with a nod. “And tell that family you’re helping. I’m sorry for the delay in getting their painting back.”
Parker smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ll let them know it was in good hands.”
no subject
no subject