Chapter Text
There were moments in the Men of Letters bunker which were peaceful and the troubles of the world melted away.
“Son of a bitch!”
This was not one of them.
In fact, Dean was just about punch a hole through a wall (or at least attempt to), “I thought we were done with bitches like this after Bela got herself dragged to hell!”
Sam sighed, rubbing his temples. It was rather annoying. In the midst of them having to deal with Abaddon, it had recently come to their attention that someone had begun collecting all the artifacts of heaven that Balthazaar had stolen all those years ago. And by a supernatural profiteer, no less.
Just brilliant.
“We’ll just have to steal them back.” Cas nodded, “Those artifacts should not be in human hands.”
“Well, any human hands but ours, considering we are smart enough not to try and use the damn things.” Dean growled.
“Most of the time.”
Sam stood, “We need a plan, and fast, before this guy finds a buyer for these artifacts.”
“And trust me, you do not want Jael’s Spike in the hands of anyone.” Cas insisted. At the looks Dean and Sam gave him, he continued, “The results were…messy the first time around.”
Dean shook his head, “I’m gunna take your word for it. But what’s our plan? I mean, if this guy is anything like Bela was…and damnit if he is, then he’s going to expect us to steal his collection back.”
“Perhaps I could be of assistance?”
The trio turned to look at Crowley, calmly walking towards them.
“How the hell did you get in here?” Dean frowned.
Crowley rolled his eyes, “You held me prisoner here for a bit, you think I wouldn’t remember how to get in?” He shook his head, “Anyway, I have a friend who specializes in…operations such as the one you’re thinking of orchestrating. And I must say he has a much better success rate than you lot when it comes to ideas.”
“So does someone want to tell me why we’re doing a job that Sterling gave us?” Hardison raised an eyebrow, working at his computer to research on their newest job. “I mean, we do still hate him, right?”
“Last I checked.” Elliot shook his head, taking a long drink of coffee.
Parker had a pout etched on her face, “I don’t like this…”
At the front of the room, Nate sighed, “Alright, how about we just forget that it was Sterling who gave us our newest clients. Let’s just focus on the clients and our newest mark. Now, there’s a collection that this guy stole from a museum, and our clients want us to steal them back.”
On the large screen in the room, pictures of the various artifacts began to show up.
“They look a bit…ordinary, don’t you think?” Sophie asked, curious.
“Yeah,” Park shook her head, “I mean, none of that looks like it’s worth much.”
Nate raised an eyebrow, “Just because something isn’t made of gold doesn’t mean it isn’t worth much. According to our clients, these artifacts are thousands of years old.”
“And they want us to handle them?” Elliot chuckled, “This is going to be fun.”
Before Nate could continue, Hardison raised his hand, “Yes, Hardison? You know you’ve never needed to raise your hand to speak before, and even if you did, it wouldn’t have stopped you.”
Hardison rolled his eyes, “Uh, yeah, I’d like to make a point that I think we should start doing background checks on our clients.”
There was a moment when no one at the table said anything, simply watching Hardison.
“…And?” Nate asked, “Was there a point you were trying to make, Hardison?”
“Yes, there was a point I was trying to make.” Hardison rolled his eyes, bringing up two pictures, “How about the point that your buddy Sterling gave us two clients who, according to the FBI, are dead. And before that, they were wanted serial killers and occultists.”
The team turned to look at Nate, “You want to explain that little hiccup?” Sophie asked.