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fic: crossover, Burn Notice/NCIS, The Wonders of Technology
disclaimer: not mine
rating: PG, language, a little violence.
fandoms: Burn Notice, NCIS
length: 1000?
genre: fluff, action
set: er... To be honest, I suppose it's mid-season two Burn Notice and post-season six of NCIS?
characters: Fiona and Ziva, and then Michael and Sam since they shouldered their way in.
notes: I really think Fi and Ziva should be on my screen together, but since that will never happen, I have fic. This one isn't femslashy. Not even if you squint. I suspect this was![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
waterdaughter's fault.
The Wonders of Technology
by ALC Punk!
It wasn't Fiona's fault they'd gotten locked in a cell, which was why she was doing the fun part of their escape and Ziva was playing ladder.
Fiona Glenanne was standing a bit precariously on Ziva David's shoulders, stretching up to reach the surveillance camera and its electrical feed. She had a pair of nail clippers to aid her in her task as Ziva tried not to move below her (Ziva made a decent ladder, at least), and she was nearly finished with the delicate work when her phone rang.
Their captors hadn't searched them all that thoroughly, but then again, she hadn't gotten a signal ten minutes before when she'd checked.
"Shit." Carefully controlling the wire in one hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled the phone out, flipping it open. "Glenanne. This better be good."
"Fi." Michael was drawling the syllable, making it sound long and soft. It was his wheedling voice, the one that he used when trying to get her to do things for him without anything in return. "I need you to do something for me."
Bingo. "You always do," she replied dryly. Below her, Ziva made an impatient sound. Tucking the phone under her chin and against her shoulder, Fiona returned to her task. "What is it, not that I'll do it." It was awkward, working this way, but she wasn't about to cut the conversation short for convenience.
"C'mon, Fi, this will be easy."
"That's nice, but I'm a little busy right now." Their guards were going to come any moment, as soon as one of them paid attention to what she was doing in the camera. And she didn't have time to flash it for the distraction.
"Your tan can wait." As though that were the only thing she could possibly be doing. Not, say, be running a job on the other side of the planet from him with a Mossad officer and dodgy intell. Really, Michael sometimes over-estimated her ability to like him and come running like a small dog.
Fiona shifted and the phone broke when it bounced against the floor below. "Oops." She hadn't much liked that phone anyway.
"You done?" Ziva sounded impatient, not that Fi blamed her.
Twitching the wire in place, Fi paused for a moment before doing the difficult bit and immediately jumping down. She grabbed Ziva's arm, pulling her over and behind the turned-on-its-side-cot as the electrical current was diverted into the blasting cap, sparking an explosion that ripped down the wall as perfectly as she'd planned for it to.
It was a satisfyingly large explosion, given the amount of C4 she'd had on her person. Their captors really hadn't searched them well.
"Men," said Ziva, pushing her up and waving a hand in the cloud of gathering dust.
Fiona slid through the hole and punched the guard on the other side before he could recover. She pulled his pistol and the extra ammo and pocketed the latter. "They're so useless, sometimes."
A snort from Ziva echoed the sentiment before she bent and stripped the knives from their erstwhile captor.
Sounds of approaching backup made Fi grin, "Looks like the party's not over yet."
-=-
On the other side of the planet, Michael Westen didn't give any indication that Fiona had hung up on him. Showing that sort of strain with his captors watching him would be a bad idea. "Oh, c'mon, Fi, it'll be easy." He paused, then continued and gave the dial tone the information she would need to complete her task.
"She will comply?" One of the gun-toting men demanded.
"Yeah, yeah, she will." Michael hung up on the dial tone and gave his captors a reassuring smile, "I just need to make one more phone call, guys. Fi can't be trusted to do this on her own."
It took four rings before Sam picked up. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"As it happens, yes. Now, Sam, I've given Fi a job, but I think you need to supervise her. You know how she can get."
"Do you even believe in eight hours of sleep, Mike?" There was a rustling sound, a sure sign that Sam was getting out of bed. His voice got a little louder and echoey, "Look, I appreciate you calling me, y'know, best of buds and all that, but can't she do this on her own?"
A gun nudged Michael's ribs and he held up his hand, giving the man a dirty look, "No, Sam. I definitely need you to watch her work."
-=-
The problem with working together and being sleep-deprived was that, sometimes, it took a lot longer for a key phrase to register. Sam paused in reaching for the can of beer in his fridge and shifted his stance a little, "You need me to watch Fiona, huh? Do what?"
"She didn't listen long enough, so here are the details." Michael rattled off some pretty standard B&E, then added, "Just make sure she doesn't leave her prints behind."
"Yeah, last time she gave me the gloves, Mike." There was something seriously up with this. "Hey, Mike, there any problems with this job?"
"Might be a few. My associates are getting antsy, so I'm going to have to go."
Sam stared at his phone for a moment, then dialed Fiona, figuring she had to know more about this than he did. There was no answer. "Guess I'm on my own for this one."
-=-
Two days later Fi was back in Miami, a baggy shirt covering most of her bruises. She was careful to walk so that the cracked rib wasn't making her wince every few steps. Meeting Michael and Sam for lunch hadn't been in her original plan for the day, but Madeline had called and said Michael wouldn't see her and could Fiona make sure he was all right. Mrs. Westen trusted Fiona to worm whatever stupid thing her son had done out of him and pass on the information. Besides, Fi sort of owed her for the last time an op went sour and she needed a place to hole up while her bruises faded.
Peering at the two men over her sunglasses, Fi was hard-pressed not to laugh. They looked as though they'd escaped the nearby E.R., Sam's nose covered, Michael's cheek scraped and his arm in a sling.
"Wow. You two fall of a bridge?"
"Something like that," Sam said, sounding a little stuffed-up.
Fiona dropped into her chair and waved at the waitress for a water. "You look like you lost a fight, boys. Care to dish?"
"You weren't there for the fun, you don't get to know," replied Sam, sounding very superior now.
Giving him a sweet smile, Fi took her water and then settled back in her seat, eyes on Michael. He'd crack. He always did.
-f-
rating: PG, language, a little violence.
fandoms: Burn Notice, NCIS
length: 1000?
genre: fluff, action
set: er... To be honest, I suppose it's mid-season two Burn Notice and post-season six of NCIS?
characters: Fiona and Ziva, and then Michael and Sam since they shouldered their way in.
notes: I really think Fi and Ziva should be on my screen together, but since that will never happen, I have fic. This one isn't femslashy. Not even if you squint. I suspect this was
waterdaughter's fault.The Wonders of Technology
by ALC Punk!
It wasn't Fiona's fault they'd gotten locked in a cell, which was why she was doing the fun part of their escape and Ziva was playing ladder.
Fiona Glenanne was standing a bit precariously on Ziva David's shoulders, stretching up to reach the surveillance camera and its electrical feed. She had a pair of nail clippers to aid her in her task as Ziva tried not to move below her (Ziva made a decent ladder, at least), and she was nearly finished with the delicate work when her phone rang.
Their captors hadn't searched them all that thoroughly, but then again, she hadn't gotten a signal ten minutes before when she'd checked.
"Shit." Carefully controlling the wire in one hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled the phone out, flipping it open. "Glenanne. This better be good."
"Fi." Michael was drawling the syllable, making it sound long and soft. It was his wheedling voice, the one that he used when trying to get her to do things for him without anything in return. "I need you to do something for me."
Bingo. "You always do," she replied dryly. Below her, Ziva made an impatient sound. Tucking the phone under her chin and against her shoulder, Fiona returned to her task. "What is it, not that I'll do it." It was awkward, working this way, but she wasn't about to cut the conversation short for convenience.
"C'mon, Fi, this will be easy."
"That's nice, but I'm a little busy right now." Their guards were going to come any moment, as soon as one of them paid attention to what she was doing in the camera. And she didn't have time to flash it for the distraction.
"Your tan can wait." As though that were the only thing she could possibly be doing. Not, say, be running a job on the other side of the planet from him with a Mossad officer and dodgy intell. Really, Michael sometimes over-estimated her ability to like him and come running like a small dog.
Fiona shifted and the phone broke when it bounced against the floor below. "Oops." She hadn't much liked that phone anyway.
"You done?" Ziva sounded impatient, not that Fi blamed her.
Twitching the wire in place, Fi paused for a moment before doing the difficult bit and immediately jumping down. She grabbed Ziva's arm, pulling her over and behind the turned-on-its-side-cot as the electrical current was diverted into the blasting cap, sparking an explosion that ripped down the wall as perfectly as she'd planned for it to.
It was a satisfyingly large explosion, given the amount of C4 she'd had on her person. Their captors really hadn't searched them well.
"Men," said Ziva, pushing her up and waving a hand in the cloud of gathering dust.
Fiona slid through the hole and punched the guard on the other side before he could recover. She pulled his pistol and the extra ammo and pocketed the latter. "They're so useless, sometimes."
A snort from Ziva echoed the sentiment before she bent and stripped the knives from their erstwhile captor.
Sounds of approaching backup made Fi grin, "Looks like the party's not over yet."
-=-
On the other side of the planet, Michael Westen didn't give any indication that Fiona had hung up on him. Showing that sort of strain with his captors watching him would be a bad idea. "Oh, c'mon, Fi, it'll be easy." He paused, then continued and gave the dial tone the information she would need to complete her task.
"She will comply?" One of the gun-toting men demanded.
"Yeah, yeah, she will." Michael hung up on the dial tone and gave his captors a reassuring smile, "I just need to make one more phone call, guys. Fi can't be trusted to do this on her own."
It took four rings before Sam picked up. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"As it happens, yes. Now, Sam, I've given Fi a job, but I think you need to supervise her. You know how she can get."
"Do you even believe in eight hours of sleep, Mike?" There was a rustling sound, a sure sign that Sam was getting out of bed. His voice got a little louder and echoey, "Look, I appreciate you calling me, y'know, best of buds and all that, but can't she do this on her own?"
A gun nudged Michael's ribs and he held up his hand, giving the man a dirty look, "No, Sam. I definitely need you to watch her work."
-=-
The problem with working together and being sleep-deprived was that, sometimes, it took a lot longer for a key phrase to register. Sam paused in reaching for the can of beer in his fridge and shifted his stance a little, "You need me to watch Fiona, huh? Do what?"
"She didn't listen long enough, so here are the details." Michael rattled off some pretty standard B&E, then added, "Just make sure she doesn't leave her prints behind."
"Yeah, last time she gave me the gloves, Mike." There was something seriously up with this. "Hey, Mike, there any problems with this job?"
"Might be a few. My associates are getting antsy, so I'm going to have to go."
Sam stared at his phone for a moment, then dialed Fiona, figuring she had to know more about this than he did. There was no answer. "Guess I'm on my own for this one."
-=-
Two days later Fi was back in Miami, a baggy shirt covering most of her bruises. She was careful to walk so that the cracked rib wasn't making her wince every few steps. Meeting Michael and Sam for lunch hadn't been in her original plan for the day, but Madeline had called and said Michael wouldn't see her and could Fiona make sure he was all right. Mrs. Westen trusted Fiona to worm whatever stupid thing her son had done out of him and pass on the information. Besides, Fi sort of owed her for the last time an op went sour and she needed a place to hole up while her bruises faded.
Peering at the two men over her sunglasses, Fi was hard-pressed not to laugh. They looked as though they'd escaped the nearby E.R., Sam's nose covered, Michael's cheek scraped and his arm in a sling.
"Wow. You two fall of a bridge?"
"Something like that," Sam said, sounding a little stuffed-up.
Fiona dropped into her chair and waved at the waitress for a water. "You look like you lost a fight, boys. Care to dish?"
"You weren't there for the fun, you don't get to know," replied Sam, sounding very superior now.
Giving him a sweet smile, Fi took her water and then settled back in her seat, eyes on Michael. He'd crack. He always did.
-f-
no subject
now who's over-estimating, Fi? ;)
I enjoyed this very much. (sequel?)
>running a job one the other side of the planet
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Maybe! I've finally figured out a plotline to hang a Burn Notice/Leverage crossover off of, so, we'll see.
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plotlines are good; I'd read it with or without one.
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"Your tan can wait."
Aha, Michael can be such a jerkass sometimes. I loved him just keepin' on selling it when she dropped the phone, though. And Fi's essential nonchalance that he'd be fine, and that she didn't rush to check on him once she got home.
The mental image of Fiona on Ziva's shoulders, fiddling with a security camera, is golden too. I freaking love these two together. Fi causes more collateral damage than Ziva would like, but she can't deny that she's a good operative. As long as she's on your side.
He'd crack. He always did.
YES. So very Fi.
I love this like pie. <3
no subject
Michael CAN be. I think part of it is that he's very... Nate in his whole "I don't care about your life, mine is more important" schtick. He also... tends to bounce back, even if he's in trouble. and I think Fi trusts him to do that.
Fi causes more collateral damage than Ziva would like
Yes. That's why Ziva always make sure Fi is hired on HER side of things. Even if she's expensive. ;)
I have this firm conviction that Fiona is always running things, even when Michael needs her help, she just sort of slots his stuff into hers, so both work together. And Ziva is a perk. =D
Thank you!
no subject
She does. She doesn't fawn, and she's very confident. (And confidence is hot.) It's a different kind of relationship, but then they are different kinds of people.
I have this firm conviction that Fiona is always running things, even when Michael needs her help, she just sort of slots his stuff into hers, so both work together. And Ziva is a perk. =D
I find your ideas intriguing and wish to subscribe to your newsletter. :D In other words, yes.
no subject