Chapter Text
Sam and Sully were sitting at the table in Italy in their elegant dark-wood hotel room, having successfully stolen the St. Dismas cross and still wearing their formal-wear sans the jackets. Nathan was at the little side-bar, pouring himself a celebratory drink, and Sully lifted the hand that wasn't holding his cigar. "Hey kid, bring the whole bottle over. Don't hold out on us," he laughed, in good spirits from their heist, and Nathan laughed back, turning around with the bottle and a full glass and two more empty ones. "Wouldn't dream of it, Sully," he said as he sat down with a little groan. He and Sam were a little banged up, and had basically had nothing but ibuprofen for dinner. Sully, however, was fresh as a daisy, having done nothing but outbid Rafe and get the car--a fact that had not been lost on Sam.
"You're not too sore, are you, Victor? Oh wait--" he snapped his fingers "you didn't really do anything."
"Hey now," Sully said, leaning forward, "you wouldn't get away without me--"
"I" he dragged out the 'I' tauntingly "think we could've--"
"Hey guys, knock it off," Nate said, finding himself in the strange position of being the strict one. Sam and Victor were...weird about him. It was like they both wanted to be his father, and got jealous whenever the other one even remotely was. He didn't mind the attention--he actually sort of liked it--but he did know that they needed to get along if this was going to go off well. "So what's our next move? If I remember correctly, Rafe had installed security gates and checkpoints all over the Scottish landscape--so we're gonna need a keycard or something that he's probably got."
"Shit, you're right," Sully grumbled, successfully distracted. "He's probably got it with him here, though. He should still be in Italy for a couple days; there's another auction happening in two nights' time, a huge one, and he won't want to miss it. It's got some of Avery's stuff. Don't worry--" he raised a hand to cut off Sam's concern "I've got a contact on the inside who's confirmed it's a sham. The Avery connection was just a rumor, and Rafe won't find out THAT little gem until he's AT the auction. So for now-" he leaned back smugly "he's still here."
"Great! So, we break into his room and steal the keycard!" Nate said cheerily, straightening a little and taking a sip of his drink. Sam was still leaning over the table and over his own whiskey, but did look more relaxed.
Sully nodded. "Shouldn't be too hard to figure out which fancy-ass hotel he's stayin' at, and with these duds we'll be able to get in." he gestured at his tuxedo suit. Nate made a pleased little sound and eased back in his chair. Sam's eyes flicked up to Sully, and he reached for his drink, holding it up lazily to watch the liquid. "Something on your mind, dear?" he asked caustically, his low Boston accent coming out as deep and smooth as the drink he held.
Sully squinted a little and smoked his cigar. "I'd feel better if we had some backup. A guaranteed distraction." He leaned forward over the table, hunching like Sam was, and let out a sad groaning sigh. Nate looked at him, a little concerned. Sully looked upset.
"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked the old man, touching his arm for a second worriedly.
Sully's cigar hesitated near his lips, then went down to the table. He shook his head slowly. "I know exactly who to get for it--but this is gonna make me feel like a real asshole."
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You stepped off the plane one day later, having gotten Sully's text around midnight and taken a red-eye. Luckily, you'd been in Sweden, so it wasn't too much of a journey. All you had with you was your normal travel backpack, since Sully had said it was a very short consultation job; you mainly worked in support, getting treasure hunters guns, food, medicine, transport, et cetera even when they were in the middle of nowhere. You had a knack for negotiations, and so you were good at it, particularly when the jobs were on the fly like this one. You DID think it was a little odd that Sully requested you bring a mix of nice clothes and exercise clothes, though. If it was a consultation job, then it should be your expertise regarding LINGUISTICS that he wanted. But, Sully was one of your favorite people, and so no matter how strange the request, you did it. Besides, he wasn't great at texting, anyway; he probably had just said something incorrectly. He'd probably just meant that Italy was nice, and you should try to mix it up and do a few different activities while you were here. He was always telling you to relax, to have some fun...
It didn't take long to find their understated, but nice hotel, and the beautiful weather (combined with the prospect of seeing Sully again, since it had been a little while and you really did love the old man) meant that you were feeling particularly chipper. Your high ponytail bounced happily, your sports bra, leggings, and light sweatshirt being all the coverage you needed for a late-night flight and a sunny day.
You made your way up to their upper-level balcony room, making a mental note to remember this hotel if you were ever back in Italy, and knocked politely.
The door opened quickly, to reveal a very, very ruggedly handsome man in a formal white shirt and black slacks with a cigarette in his mouth. He saw you, and the cigarette dropped. You caught it quickly--you didn't fight all that often for work, but you were excellent when it was required--just down near his hips, then bent back up to hand it to him.
"S-sorry," he said, his voice throaty.
You smiled at him, your good mood and his handsomeness making it large and bright, and for a second you thought he was going to drop the cigarette again.
Then you heard Sully approaching, already greeting you, and the first man stepped back, running his free hand through his hair in an adorably nervous kind of gesture.
"Y/N!" Sully gave you a big hug, and you returned it with a contented grin "Thanks for coming, I really appreciate it. You know Nathan--" Nate stepped out from further in the room and gave you a hug, too, with a smile and a chipper "Heyy!" Sully continued "--and this is his older brother, Sam."
"You don't have to mention the 'older'," Sam muttered balefully, but Sully ignored him. You looked between the three men, smiling, and put your hands on your waist. "You know I always help my friends, Sully," you said brightly, your ponytail swishing as you turned to him. "So what do you need?"
Sully stepped further into the room, and you gracefully took your bag off to place it on the floor--only to hear Sam suddenly behind you, taking it, and putting it down for you. "Oh-thank you," you said, throwing him another smile, before turning back to face Sully and the table. There was an old paper on it, and you assumed it was why you were here--
Sully stepped in front of it, sighing. "Y/N, I've...called you here under false pretenses. I'm really sorry, sweetheart," he said genuinely. You looked at him, your face still friendly but questioning--which only made him feel worse. "We need to break into a competitor's hotel room and steal a keycard--and while normally that might be simple, this is an important job and we'd like to have a distraction."
"You can't afford to take chances," you said softly, your face a little more thoughtful now, but still cheerful. He nodded. "Exactly. We--" he gestured to the other two men, who had moved to be standing close to your right "will do the robbery, but we need you to distract the resident."
"Okay," you said easily, looking between the three of them. They looked...guilty, or sheepish, or something. Embarrassed, maybe? Why?
You didn't have to wonder long. "Y/N, the guy...he's gonna be outside sitting on a bench soon. I've gotten someone at the hotel to tell me he always eats lunch there when he's in town. And it needs to be...or we need you to be..." Sully looked so uncomfortable that you worried there might actually be something wrong with him.
You looked visibly worried now, and Nate stepped in. Sam was hanging back in the corner in some kind of lean against the wall, looking distinctly uncomfortable and like he was trying to make himself small and unobtrusive--which, considering his height and well-muscled build, was impossible.
"He's gotta be distracted for, like, twenty minutes. Maybe more," Nate said in a rush, and you could see the other two men's shoulders lower as they relaxed. Clearly they hadn't wanted to be the ones to say that for some reason...
You glanced between the three of them, the smile small but still on your face, not understanding the somber atmosphere. Why did they all look like they'd sold you out?
Then it hit you; Sully's requests about clothing, his obvious discomfort, the length of time--
Your head shifted back a little, just for a second, but it was enough to signify your discomfort. "You guys don't need me for any help with linguistics, do you," you said quietly. You quickly recovered with a small smile--so what if you were supposed to be the honeypot, you'd had to do that before--and stepped closer with a little laugh. "Oh, Sully, is that what you're worried about? Come on, that's not that big a deal," you said it entreatingly, looking at him pityingly while the other two looked on. "Goddamnit, Y/N, I knew you were gonna be a good sport about this. Makes me feel way worse," he grumbled, shoving his cigar in his mouth--but you could tell he was also relieved that you were okay with it. You looked at him sweetly. "I'm always a good sport, Sully. And I always help my friends, no matter what." You said it kindly, but matter-of-factly--and Sully knew from past experience that it was true. You patted him on the arm, then turned to Nate, seeing as he was the second to take point, and nodded your head once toward their balcony. "So is the bench visible from out there?"
"Yes," Nate said, obviously relieved too. He walked over with you, and you felt Sam slide in behind you quietly. He almost moved like a panther, he was so lithe and quiet--and he carried tension in his body all the time, the POTENTIAL for action always there. It was interesting, you thought to yourself as you went out to the balcony to look down with them. A hand appeared to give you binoculars, and you turned to see it was Sam's. He was giving you a small smile, and you gave him a bigger one as you took it. "Ah-thank you!"
"Over there," Nate pointed off to the left, a good distance away. There was a small fountain-focused courtyard. "Rafe'll have goons guarding his room, and himself probably, so that's why we're aiming high with the time--"
You froze. "Rafe?"
They looked at you, concerned. "Rafe Adler?" You said, your voice still soft but your face more serious.
"What, you know him?" Nate asked, and you saw the boys glance at each other. You moved your eyes back slowly to the front, clearly doing some quick thinking. Rafe was a rich boy, sadistic, suspicious. Dangerous. It wouldn't do you any good to be on his radar--and you'd REALLY rather not be. But your friends needed you to. You could handle it. You WOULD handle it. You'd probably take a couple hits, but--
Your resolve showed on your face, and you lifted the binoculars again with a little laugh. "Only by reputation. But it's okay." You looked at the benches with your binoculars for a minute, and along the route to the hotel via the cobblestoned streets, then put them down. "All right, how long do I have?" you asked. Nate looked at his watch before looking into the binoculars himself. "Forty minutes. Unless he gets there early, which he might--shit!" He suddenly pointed to the courtyard. Sam took a turn with the binoculars, and spit out the same curse in a husky murmur.
"Okay," you said, looking down at the area and planning. You already knew perfectly well what Rafe looked like, and could faintly see him as a speck. Flanked by two bigger specks. "No time." You reached down and started unzipping your sweatshirt, promptly spinning around and heading back into the room. "Sully," you said calmly, but firmly, "comms?"
Sully was already pulling them out of his pocket. Nate and Sam were right on your heels- "I heard," he said, cutting off their news. You were already putting the earpiece in your ear and putting the sweatshirt on a nearby chair. "Looks like it's showtime, kids."
"Are you guys good?" You asked, shifting the earpiece and nearing the door. "Anything else I should know?"
"We're good," Sam said. "But Y/N, what are you gonna do?"
You glanced in the mirror, shifting your sports bra and thanking your lucky stars that you were already wearing sneakers and leggings, before looking back at them. You shrugged blithely. "I guess I'm going for a run," you said brightly before spinning towards the door, your ponytail flying, and heading out with a chipper little "Good luck boys!"