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Entry tags:
crossover fic: Pull the Pin, Burn Notice/Stargate: Atlantis, PG
Disclaimer: not mine
Fandoms: Burn Notice, Stargate: Atlantis
Characters: Fiona Glenanne, Laura Cadman (not really femslashy, though it can be inferred)
Rating: PG
Length: 2300+
Genre: gen, action, Superiors Made Them Vacation
Notes: I don't remember when I started this anymore, but I liked the concept, even if I'm not sure it ended up where I'd originally intended.
Summary: Fiona knows a guy who knows a guy, and Laura's just on an enforced vacation. Two explosives afficianados, one bar. What could go wrong?
Pull the Pin
by ALC Punk!
Fiona Glenanne knew a guy who knew a guy. If asked, Fi would say she always knew a guy who knew a guy (or a guy who knew a girl, or a girl who knew a--the point was, Fi knew people who knew people), it was just part of the cover, part of the business. Even if the guy wasn't a guy, and was instead her very professional hacking job, he was still a guy.
Safer that way.
So, Fi knew a guy who knew a guy. And another guy had hired her to find the first guy. And maybe there was money involved, and maybe there was the suggestion of explosives.
Not a hit, of course. Fi wasn't exactly that kind of woman, despite her distrust of everyone and everything (the price wasn't high enough, for one thing, and the incentive? Overrated). So it wasn't a hit.
Scare tactic, they called it, down in Rio where the heat was so bad your skin was slick five seconds after you stepped off a plane and your eyeballs acquired a taste for the smoke of tiny little hole in the wall bars.
Colorado wasn't hot like that; Fi missed the heat, though the humidity was almost as bad as she cleared another curve on the motorcycle she'd borrowed. In leathers and a helmet that was more safety-conscious than fashion-savvy, Fi was feeling pretty inconspicuous. She sort of disliked that, so kicked the pace up a notch, edging towards 100.
Which was probably why the cop pulled her over for speeding. He didn't write her a ticket, though.
After all, Fi knew a guy who knew a guy. And cops were just as easy to bribe in tiny mid-American towns as they were down in Miami.
-*-
Laura Cadman had a thing for crappy bars. Tiny holes in the wall with leather-clad bikers, or old men playing poker in the corners were her sort of thing. Neighborhood bars, where everyone knew everyone were interesting, but not the same. The more she wondered how much water went in the beer, the better she liked it. Maybe it was a masochistic thing. Maybe it was the possibility of the violence that could erupt. Or maybe it was the pool tables and the money she usually won. When in the Pegasus galaxy, she'd been reduced to slumming it with the botanists when they went off-world. Occasional pool tournaments against new recruits didn't cut it, especially when Major Lorne banned her from betting on herself after the first one.
Franco's was no exception, though it tried to pretend it was more up-market than the interior claimed. Cadman bellied up to the bar for her first beer of the night, and wondered how much she'd make off the current clientele.
There was a woman down the bar from her, lounging in a pair of worn leathers and an insouciant look of superiority. Laura considered hating her on sight, then changed her mind when she got her first taste of the beer. Watered-down and undrinkable. She'd had better beer in the Pegasus galaxy, where the natives didn't even know what beer was.
Of course, beggars couldn't be choosers when they were taking a trip around Colorado on a motorcycle in an effort to burn off some vacation time. Colonel Sheppard had told her she wouldn't be allowed back unless she could prove she hadn't spent the entire time lurking in the bowels of StarGate Command, waiting for her time to be up. It wasn't that Laura was a workaholic, she just liked her job. Blowing things up, exploring strange new worlds? It was all a piece of cake and exactly what she'd been trained to do.
Spending time in bars, getting drunk, wasn't what she'd trained for, but she was pretty good at picking up skills and slumming when she needed them.
Besides, no self-respecting graduate of the SGC school of "what alien parasite is it this week?" would be caught dead admitting they didn't like to party now and again. Except maybe Colonel Carter, but everyone knew she was a geek underneath it all, anyway.
Which didn't have a damned thing to do with the woman down the bar from her, other than that she had a certain look that told Laura this evening could change from boring to interesting. It just depended on how the cards fell for her. She snagged her beer and moved towards the two pool tables on the other side of the woman, careful to ignore her accidentally-on-purpose.
If the woman was interested and paying attention, she might get up and follow. If not, no loss. Besides, Cadman could see four likely patsies for the night and she had a twenty just burning a hole in her pocket, asking for companions.
-*-
Fi didn't notice people. Fi ignored people. Still, the woman who'd studiously made certain Fi would take notice, wasn't the normal sort of clientele a place like Franco's commanded. So Fi couldn't keep herself entirely uninterested. For one thing, the bar was dead. Sure, she'd dodged half a dozen rude offers, one polite one, and three curious looks. But they were normal.
The woman now casually leaning over one of the pool tables, an innocence in her stance belied by the way she was smirking just a little, she was not normal.
So Fi watched with something like vague approval as Rude Offer #4 got his pants figuratively ripped off, and his companions (Rude Offer #6 and Curious Look #2) bet against the blonde until it was too late to go back on their loss.
The blonde pocketed all of the stakes easily, then flashed them a sweet little smile and seemed to be considering offering them a chance to make it back.
"Not bad," Fi couldn't help herself. She'd always liked pool, especially against someone who might actually be able to play, "How about you try it against a real opponent?"
"Think you can take me?" One eyebrow raised, the blonde looked triumphant for an instant before she rubbed her thumb over the end of her cue.
Nervous habit. Maybe not. "Fiona Glenanne."
"Laura Cadman." The nervous tic was gone, but Cadman's eyes were wary as she watched Fi rack the balls neatly after choosing a cue of her own. "You break."
"One hundred I knock three balls in," Fi predicted, bending and aiming. She'd released before Cadman could make a suggestion or object.
-*-
Three balls dropped, and Laura blew out a slight whistle, almost admiring. "Not bad. Do I get to bet your hundred that I knock three stripes in once you've scratched?"
Glenanne tossed her a look that appeared to be amusement and annoyance together, then lined up two more shots before she bounced one off the pocket rather than in. As the cue ball disappeared, she made a face. "You can try winning it back."
"I don't try," Laura replied cheerfully, setting the white ball down and lining up her shot, her brain already planning for the next two.
She sank two balls and was lining up for the third when Fiona leaned in against her side and murmured, "If you miss this, I'll take double."
Turning her head, Laura smiled, "I've got too much riding to miss--but if you'd like to double, either way..."
"Better make it fast," advised Fiona. "I've got things to blow up."
Laura almost missed her shot. Almost. The ball sank, the cue almost following it before steadying itself on the lip of the pocket. "Things to blow up?" She raised an eyebrow, amused, "C4? TNT?"
"More along the lines of homemade," was Fiona's reply. As though it were a perfectly normal thing to have a conversation about.
"Homemade, huh?" It was easy, then, trading recipes and taunting remarks. Laura had always liked trash-talking her pool opponents, but most of them gave up before now. She didn't know how Fiona knew the chemistry she did, but figured her for military.
The round finished with neither winning, and Fiona suddenly straightened, "It occurs to me that I set a timer."
"A timer." Cadman's eyebrows went up, "On what?"
"The bomb I placed behind the bar earlier," waving her cue, Fiona set it down with a regretful look.
"You set a bomb?"
The look Fiona gave her was half-condescending.
Laura considered, then glanced around, "Should we shout 'fire' or something?"
"What for?" Fiona looked vaguely confused that they were even still standing around, discussing things.
"To clear the bar."
"Oh. Oh, right. I guess?" One of her shoulders came up in a shrug and she scooped up the cue ball and tossed it in the air, "I hadn't really thought about it."
"You hadn't..." Something about her nonchalance made Laura straighten, "You're not making a joke, are you."
"I don't joke about explosives. Usually."
"Well. Shit. How long?" There were nearly twenty people in the bar. Laura didn't really think much of them, but she balked at letting them die in an explosion. If there really was going to be one. The night had suddenly gotten interesting.
"About two minutes." Fiona paused, looking at the ancient clock over the bar, "Or less."
Or less. Laura tossed her pool cue down and headed for the bright red blob of the fire alarm. It took a harder yank than she wanted to get it down, and another ten seconds before the bells started ringing.
Most of those in the bar just continued talking.
So Laura straightened and bellowed in her best parade-ground voice, "There's a police bust heading this way!"
That got them moving, most of them heading for the back, a few others heading out the front to act as decoys. Laura stayed where she was, counting down the seconds.
"Not bad," Fiona said, glancing around the empty bar. She hopped up and reached over the bar for the near-full bottle of whiskey. "We should go."
"Home-made?" asked Laura as she stood there, gaze flicking between the bar and the exit.
"Less easy to trace."
"Are you using a fifty-fifty mix?" Ok, so it was a cheap shot, and snide, but Laura couldn't resist.
Giving her a scathing look, Fiona shot back, "Do I look seventy?"
Laura swore, "Why are we still standing here?"
"Living dangerously." Fiona suggested before she broke into a sprint for the front door, Cadman half a second behind her.
They slammed out through it and pelted down the steps, barely clearing the curb before the world gave a cough behind them and the blast-wave knocked them flat into the street.
Both of them rolled over and slowly got to their feet, coughing. Laura felt as though she'd been punched, but it was a good feeling, with the spark of adrenaline flooding her system. Still holding her precious bottle, Fiona leaned against the truck parked in the handicap space.
"I can't be caught here," Laura informed her before turning and heading for her bike.
"What, and I can?"
"You set it off," pointed out Laura, certain that she should really be staying there to keep Fiona as a suspect for the police. But being involved in an explosion wouldn't look so great on her record. Especially not with her past history. And Sheppard was certain to believe the bomb had been her fault.
"Shit--I hope you've got a second helmet--" Fiona shoved Laura onto her bike, knocking her off-balance.
Sirens began shrilling nearby, and Cadman swore, grabbing for her helmet, "I don't. Steal one."
There was nothing to say she had to let Fiona escape with her, but as Fiona settled at her back, hands grabbing at the belt-loops of her jeans, she decided it wasn't worth the argument.
"Go, go!" Fiona snapped.
Revving the motorcycle, Laura knocked the kick-stand up and swung them towards a gap between two of the buildings across the street. It was their only chance to escape, since she could see lights in one direction, and the other was a dead-end, "Great plan!" she shouted, before the roar of the engine and the rush of the air drowned out everything.
-=-
After a hair-raising chase through backyards, alleys, and streets that seemed suddenly filled with cop cars, Laura finally felt as though they were safe and slowed to a halt. Letting the engine idle, she braced the cycle between her legs and glanced over her shoulder at Fiona.
"Nice work," she said, patting Laura's shoulder and shaking her hair back and out of her face. "Have you thought about giving up the military for a more lucrative line of work?"
"I'm not even going to ask."
A smile flashed over Fiona's face, and then she grimaced, "I need to find a phone and go to ground. You should probably ditch the bike."
"Like hell." Impulsively, since she'd already committed half a dozen felonies (at worst), Laura reached out and snagged Fiona's wrist. "I'm heading up into the Rockies. Camping. There's room for two, and I'm told the views are wonderful."
"Are you asking me to go with you?" Fiona's eyebrows were up again.
"Let's just say I'd like to hear more C4 recipes--where we can't be overheard."
Fiona snorted, "I still need a pay phone."
It wasn't a yes. But Laura was suddenly feeling a lot less bored with her enforced vacation. It was possible she'd actually have stories to tell of her wild exploits that weren't made-up when she got back to Atlantis.
-=-
Fiona knew a girl who knew a guy with a cabin deep in the middle of nowhere. Along the way there, Cadman got her a helmet at another biker bar. The air of the deep mountains was refreshing, cold, and tasted of something Fiona couldn't name. Soon, it smelled like cordite and flash powder. And steak. Laura proved to be a good cook, and Fiona managed not to burn down the cabin.
Most people attributed the occasional explosions to aliens, military testing, or teenagers. All of them were wrong.
-f-
Fandoms: Burn Notice, Stargate: Atlantis
Characters: Fiona Glenanne, Laura Cadman (not really femslashy, though it can be inferred)
Rating: PG
Length: 2300+
Genre: gen, action, Superiors Made Them Vacation
Notes: I don't remember when I started this anymore, but I liked the concept, even if I'm not sure it ended up where I'd originally intended.
Summary: Fiona knows a guy who knows a guy, and Laura's just on an enforced vacation. Two explosives afficianados, one bar. What could go wrong?
Pull the Pin
by ALC Punk!
Fiona Glenanne knew a guy who knew a guy. If asked, Fi would say she always knew a guy who knew a guy (or a guy who knew a girl, or a girl who knew a--the point was, Fi knew people who knew people), it was just part of the cover, part of the business. Even if the guy wasn't a guy, and was instead her very professional hacking job, he was still a guy.
Safer that way.
So, Fi knew a guy who knew a guy. And another guy had hired her to find the first guy. And maybe there was money involved, and maybe there was the suggestion of explosives.
Not a hit, of course. Fi wasn't exactly that kind of woman, despite her distrust of everyone and everything (the price wasn't high enough, for one thing, and the incentive? Overrated). So it wasn't a hit.
Scare tactic, they called it, down in Rio where the heat was so bad your skin was slick five seconds after you stepped off a plane and your eyeballs acquired a taste for the smoke of tiny little hole in the wall bars.
Colorado wasn't hot like that; Fi missed the heat, though the humidity was almost as bad as she cleared another curve on the motorcycle she'd borrowed. In leathers and a helmet that was more safety-conscious than fashion-savvy, Fi was feeling pretty inconspicuous. She sort of disliked that, so kicked the pace up a notch, edging towards 100.
Which was probably why the cop pulled her over for speeding. He didn't write her a ticket, though.
After all, Fi knew a guy who knew a guy. And cops were just as easy to bribe in tiny mid-American towns as they were down in Miami.
-*-
Laura Cadman had a thing for crappy bars. Tiny holes in the wall with leather-clad bikers, or old men playing poker in the corners were her sort of thing. Neighborhood bars, where everyone knew everyone were interesting, but not the same. The more she wondered how much water went in the beer, the better she liked it. Maybe it was a masochistic thing. Maybe it was the possibility of the violence that could erupt. Or maybe it was the pool tables and the money she usually won. When in the Pegasus galaxy, she'd been reduced to slumming it with the botanists when they went off-world. Occasional pool tournaments against new recruits didn't cut it, especially when Major Lorne banned her from betting on herself after the first one.
Franco's was no exception, though it tried to pretend it was more up-market than the interior claimed. Cadman bellied up to the bar for her first beer of the night, and wondered how much she'd make off the current clientele.
There was a woman down the bar from her, lounging in a pair of worn leathers and an insouciant look of superiority. Laura considered hating her on sight, then changed her mind when she got her first taste of the beer. Watered-down and undrinkable. She'd had better beer in the Pegasus galaxy, where the natives didn't even know what beer was.
Of course, beggars couldn't be choosers when they were taking a trip around Colorado on a motorcycle in an effort to burn off some vacation time. Colonel Sheppard had told her she wouldn't be allowed back unless she could prove she hadn't spent the entire time lurking in the bowels of StarGate Command, waiting for her time to be up. It wasn't that Laura was a workaholic, she just liked her job. Blowing things up, exploring strange new worlds? It was all a piece of cake and exactly what she'd been trained to do.
Spending time in bars, getting drunk, wasn't what she'd trained for, but she was pretty good at picking up skills and slumming when she needed them.
Besides, no self-respecting graduate of the SGC school of "what alien parasite is it this week?" would be caught dead admitting they didn't like to party now and again. Except maybe Colonel Carter, but everyone knew she was a geek underneath it all, anyway.
Which didn't have a damned thing to do with the woman down the bar from her, other than that she had a certain look that told Laura this evening could change from boring to interesting. It just depended on how the cards fell for her. She snagged her beer and moved towards the two pool tables on the other side of the woman, careful to ignore her accidentally-on-purpose.
If the woman was interested and paying attention, she might get up and follow. If not, no loss. Besides, Cadman could see four likely patsies for the night and she had a twenty just burning a hole in her pocket, asking for companions.
-*-
Fi didn't notice people. Fi ignored people. Still, the woman who'd studiously made certain Fi would take notice, wasn't the normal sort of clientele a place like Franco's commanded. So Fi couldn't keep herself entirely uninterested. For one thing, the bar was dead. Sure, she'd dodged half a dozen rude offers, one polite one, and three curious looks. But they were normal.
The woman now casually leaning over one of the pool tables, an innocence in her stance belied by the way she was smirking just a little, she was not normal.
So Fi watched with something like vague approval as Rude Offer #4 got his pants figuratively ripped off, and his companions (Rude Offer #6 and Curious Look #2) bet against the blonde until it was too late to go back on their loss.
The blonde pocketed all of the stakes easily, then flashed them a sweet little smile and seemed to be considering offering them a chance to make it back.
"Not bad," Fi couldn't help herself. She'd always liked pool, especially against someone who might actually be able to play, "How about you try it against a real opponent?"
"Think you can take me?" One eyebrow raised, the blonde looked triumphant for an instant before she rubbed her thumb over the end of her cue.
Nervous habit. Maybe not. "Fiona Glenanne."
"Laura Cadman." The nervous tic was gone, but Cadman's eyes were wary as she watched Fi rack the balls neatly after choosing a cue of her own. "You break."
"One hundred I knock three balls in," Fi predicted, bending and aiming. She'd released before Cadman could make a suggestion or object.
-*-
Three balls dropped, and Laura blew out a slight whistle, almost admiring. "Not bad. Do I get to bet your hundred that I knock three stripes in once you've scratched?"
Glenanne tossed her a look that appeared to be amusement and annoyance together, then lined up two more shots before she bounced one off the pocket rather than in. As the cue ball disappeared, she made a face. "You can try winning it back."
"I don't try," Laura replied cheerfully, setting the white ball down and lining up her shot, her brain already planning for the next two.
She sank two balls and was lining up for the third when Fiona leaned in against her side and murmured, "If you miss this, I'll take double."
Turning her head, Laura smiled, "I've got too much riding to miss--but if you'd like to double, either way..."
"Better make it fast," advised Fiona. "I've got things to blow up."
Laura almost missed her shot. Almost. The ball sank, the cue almost following it before steadying itself on the lip of the pocket. "Things to blow up?" She raised an eyebrow, amused, "C4? TNT?"
"More along the lines of homemade," was Fiona's reply. As though it were a perfectly normal thing to have a conversation about.
"Homemade, huh?" It was easy, then, trading recipes and taunting remarks. Laura had always liked trash-talking her pool opponents, but most of them gave up before now. She didn't know how Fiona knew the chemistry she did, but figured her for military.
The round finished with neither winning, and Fiona suddenly straightened, "It occurs to me that I set a timer."
"A timer." Cadman's eyebrows went up, "On what?"
"The bomb I placed behind the bar earlier," waving her cue, Fiona set it down with a regretful look.
"You set a bomb?"
The look Fiona gave her was half-condescending.
Laura considered, then glanced around, "Should we shout 'fire' or something?"
"What for?" Fiona looked vaguely confused that they were even still standing around, discussing things.
"To clear the bar."
"Oh. Oh, right. I guess?" One of her shoulders came up in a shrug and she scooped up the cue ball and tossed it in the air, "I hadn't really thought about it."
"You hadn't..." Something about her nonchalance made Laura straighten, "You're not making a joke, are you."
"I don't joke about explosives. Usually."
"Well. Shit. How long?" There were nearly twenty people in the bar. Laura didn't really think much of them, but she balked at letting them die in an explosion. If there really was going to be one. The night had suddenly gotten interesting.
"About two minutes." Fiona paused, looking at the ancient clock over the bar, "Or less."
Or less. Laura tossed her pool cue down and headed for the bright red blob of the fire alarm. It took a harder yank than she wanted to get it down, and another ten seconds before the bells started ringing.
Most of those in the bar just continued talking.
So Laura straightened and bellowed in her best parade-ground voice, "There's a police bust heading this way!"
That got them moving, most of them heading for the back, a few others heading out the front to act as decoys. Laura stayed where she was, counting down the seconds.
"Not bad," Fiona said, glancing around the empty bar. She hopped up and reached over the bar for the near-full bottle of whiskey. "We should go."
"Home-made?" asked Laura as she stood there, gaze flicking between the bar and the exit.
"Less easy to trace."
"Are you using a fifty-fifty mix?" Ok, so it was a cheap shot, and snide, but Laura couldn't resist.
Giving her a scathing look, Fiona shot back, "Do I look seventy?"
Laura swore, "Why are we still standing here?"
"Living dangerously." Fiona suggested before she broke into a sprint for the front door, Cadman half a second behind her.
They slammed out through it and pelted down the steps, barely clearing the curb before the world gave a cough behind them and the blast-wave knocked them flat into the street.
Both of them rolled over and slowly got to their feet, coughing. Laura felt as though she'd been punched, but it was a good feeling, with the spark of adrenaline flooding her system. Still holding her precious bottle, Fiona leaned against the truck parked in the handicap space.
"I can't be caught here," Laura informed her before turning and heading for her bike.
"What, and I can?"
"You set it off," pointed out Laura, certain that she should really be staying there to keep Fiona as a suspect for the police. But being involved in an explosion wouldn't look so great on her record. Especially not with her past history. And Sheppard was certain to believe the bomb had been her fault.
"Shit--I hope you've got a second helmet--" Fiona shoved Laura onto her bike, knocking her off-balance.
Sirens began shrilling nearby, and Cadman swore, grabbing for her helmet, "I don't. Steal one."
There was nothing to say she had to let Fiona escape with her, but as Fiona settled at her back, hands grabbing at the belt-loops of her jeans, she decided it wasn't worth the argument.
"Go, go!" Fiona snapped.
Revving the motorcycle, Laura knocked the kick-stand up and swung them towards a gap between two of the buildings across the street. It was their only chance to escape, since she could see lights in one direction, and the other was a dead-end, "Great plan!" she shouted, before the roar of the engine and the rush of the air drowned out everything.
-=-
After a hair-raising chase through backyards, alleys, and streets that seemed suddenly filled with cop cars, Laura finally felt as though they were safe and slowed to a halt. Letting the engine idle, she braced the cycle between her legs and glanced over her shoulder at Fiona.
"Nice work," she said, patting Laura's shoulder and shaking her hair back and out of her face. "Have you thought about giving up the military for a more lucrative line of work?"
"I'm not even going to ask."
A smile flashed over Fiona's face, and then she grimaced, "I need to find a phone and go to ground. You should probably ditch the bike."
"Like hell." Impulsively, since she'd already committed half a dozen felonies (at worst), Laura reached out and snagged Fiona's wrist. "I'm heading up into the Rockies. Camping. There's room for two, and I'm told the views are wonderful."
"Are you asking me to go with you?" Fiona's eyebrows were up again.
"Let's just say I'd like to hear more C4 recipes--where we can't be overheard."
Fiona snorted, "I still need a pay phone."
It wasn't a yes. But Laura was suddenly feeling a lot less bored with her enforced vacation. It was possible she'd actually have stories to tell of her wild exploits that weren't made-up when she got back to Atlantis.
-=-
Fiona knew a girl who knew a guy with a cabin deep in the middle of nowhere. Along the way there, Cadman got her a helmet at another biker bar. The air of the deep mountains was refreshing, cold, and tasted of something Fiona couldn't name. Soon, it smelled like cordite and flash powder. And steak. Laura proved to be a good cook, and Fiona managed not to burn down the cabin.
Most people attributed the occasional explosions to aliens, military testing, or teenagers. All of them were wrong.
-f-
no subject
BWAHAHAHA. Yes. He would, wouldn't he?
I am so very much in love with this fic, and TERRIFED of the idea of Fiona and Laura setting up shop in the Rockies. But also amused.
(no subject)