undercover-undiscovered-underutilised-underwear (_unhurt_) wrote,

fic: hustle

760 words of Hustle fic(let), vaguely season 3, no warnings applicable. for belmanoir, who is in great part responsible for my sudden tumble for this show and fandom. thanks to mrs_laugh_track for taking a shuftie at it first.

“Since when does Ash get it on with an actual woman?” Danny asked, gesturing behind him with his thumb and making for the coffee machine.

“What are you talking about?” Stacie said, lifting her favourite mug out of Danny’s hand and replacing it with a chipped one.

“What I said,” Danny said, filling the mug to the brim and making a grab for the plate of chocolate biscuits just as Stacie whipped them away. “Aw, Stace! I just want the one!”

“These are for Albert, for being a darling, so keep your sticky fingers to yourself. There’s some Rich Teas in the cupboard.”

Danny pulled a face. “You spoil him. I’m a darling too. You just don’t appreciate me properly.” He clapped an open hand to his chest in emphasis.

Stacie just shook her head. “Oh Danny, you know they never appreciate a genius in his own lifetime.”

He looked slightly mollified. “Yeah, well. There is that. I still want a choccie biscuit though.” He made another attempt on the plate and Stacie danced back a step.

“What were you saying about Ash a minute ago?”

“Oh, right!” Danny stopped, distracted. “Ash! He’s got some bird on the sofa with him. Is that even allowed?”

Stacie gave him a look. “Just because you can’t seem to persuade any of your hundreds of dates to accompany you home, Danny…”

“Yeah, no, I mean – hoi! I just like to keep the ladies comfortable, let them set the pace, you know. Do things on their territory. Anyway, we aren’t talking about me, we’re talking about how – well, it’s Ash. He doesn’t even talk about birds!”

“Some women might actually like that,” Stacie pointed out helpfully.

Danny huffed. “Nah, but really – what’s he got that gets a young thing like that interested?”

“They might just be friends, Danny.”

“He’s got his arm along the back of the sofa behind her.”

Stacie raised her eyebrows and gestured for him to continue.

“And he’s got his shirt-sleeves rolled up. You know. All, ‘look at my manly and capable forearms’ and crap.”

“Well,” said Stacie, “he is very capable. And he does have nice forearms.”

“Oh, what? Not you as well.”

Stacie’s face was perfectly composed except for a slight twitch of her mouth as she went on. “Reliable, too. And smart. Adaptable. Thoughtful. Supportive. You might even say multi-talented. And in his own way, I think he’s really quite se-”

“Okay, stop right there. There’s some things a bloke does not need to hear!”

“Sorry, Danny, but you did ask.”

“Yeah, well, TMI, you know. Next you’ll be giving me an illustrated lecture on what women see in Mickey.”

Stacie grinned. “Oh, I think you already know what women like about Mickey,” she said, and patted him on the cheek.

Danny inhaled the coffee he was about to swallow. He spluttered as Stacie slapped him on the back, and had to sit down on a stool while he caught his breath. Stacie handed the disconsolate Danny a tea towel to clean up.

He frowned as he mopped, then his head came up. “Right. Okay. Stacie?”

“Yes, Danny?” Stacie was still managing not to smirk.

“D’you think Ash would teach me how to do that stuff with CCTV? And, uh, whatever it is he does with computers and that? Maybe how to tell the real ice from the glass?”

“If you ask him nicely, I’m sure he’d be happy to. But Danny, aren’t you missing something?”

Danny looked blank.

“Janitorial undercover skills. I’m sure we can find some overalls that fit you. In fact, I think Ash is planning to play the toilet attendant in the gent’s at Kings Cross on Tuesday. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to learn some of his skills. Danny? Where are you going?”

Danny was already backing towards the door. “Yeah, uh, sorry Stace, just remembered I’ve got to go and – go visit me mum. Must dash, bye for now!”

In the sitting room Ash sighed and turned off the baby monitor. “So close and yet so far. I swear, I am not going to be the only one of this gang mopping floors for the rest of my grifting career.” He ran a hand through his hair and turned to the girl next to him. “Sorry love, not your fault. What did we agree? You want me to crack your neighbour’s wireless for you?”

She looked up at him consideringly, then let her eyes drop to his forearms. “Actually,” she said, “I think maybe there’s something else you could do for me.”

Tags: fic, hustle
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.