Chapter Text
Peter Lukas wanted his hat back. It had been stolen from him, unfairly, by a certain avatar of the Beholding who had promptly sold it on the E-Bay. Peter didn’t know what that was but he knew what it meant. It meant his hat had been bought by someone on the line as the kids say and taken away.
After a conversation with certain Stranger affiliated deliverymen he discovered that his hat was still in the UK and had been taken to the house of one Oliver Banks.
Breaking into his house had been surprisingly easy, a simple visit to the Lonely and a look around. However, the hat was nowhere to be seen.
Damn Elias. Damn him and his petty post divorce shenanigans. Peter needed that hat, it was his, and how dare he take it from him. They had signed a pren-up and nowhere in that document was there anything about Elias getting custody of his hat.
Peter decided to wait at the house for a while, stewing in his displeasure. Maybe he should marry him again for the sole purpose of doing the same thing to him after their next divorce.
It was at that moment that Oliver burst in the door, completely oblivious to his presence. He was dressed in a mesh shirt and jeans and on top of his head was the hat. He was also speaking on the phone with someone, a horrible decision really.
Just as soon as he arrived he was gone, before Peter had been able to will himself to appear and talk to him. Ugh, talking.
But he was able to follow him to what appeared to be a club. He shuddered and nearly gagged at the idea of entering a building, filled with people, who wanted to… enjoy each other’s company? What was the purpose of a club really?
Elias had said something about them once but it had become exceedingly pornographic and Peter stopped listening.
He walked into the club, eyes on the prize. He wanted his hat back, dammit!
Oliver was standing against the wall, holding a large and fruity drink when Peter decided to make himself known.
“You have my hat,” he said.
Oliver arched his eyebrows but that was the extent his surprise was shown. “I bought this?”
“It was stolen from me. And therefore it’s mine.”
Oliver edged away. “You’re… Peter Lukas, right?”
Peter flinched at the idea that a stranger would know his name, “I am.”
“I’m very sorry for the tragic and early loss of your hat but I am afraid I’m not going to just give you something I paid for.” Oliver took a sip of his drink
Peter scowled and faded into the Lonely. If Oliver wasn’t going to give him his hat back, he was going to take it.
Oliver shrugged at the empty space where Peter was standing, finished his drink, and began to mingle on the dance floor. Peter noticed that he kept eying the equipment on the stage, as if determining something.
The schemes of Oliver Banks were not his problem, he decided. He dealt with enough scheming at home, thank you very much. What was his problem was that he had his hat.
He slipped into the crowd after Oliver and knew what he had to do. He appeared for a moment, startling a nearby drunk man, and grabbed his hat off Oliver’s head. He was good at this, Peter decided, he could absolutely do an Ocean’s eleven.
He vaguely remembered that movie. They… There were some thieves who were trying to steal the ocean, that was it.
Oliver turned around the moment he took hold of the hat, irritation in his face, “Peter, what-”
Peter returned to the Lonely victorious.
The hat was once again his!
Take that Elias!
He returned to the Tundra, grinning with the thrill of victory. He knew that those ocean thieves had nothing on him.
Two days later he received a delivered newspaper that said there was a fire in that club. Apparently some of the electrical equipment had been tampered with, killing everyone inside.