Day 3: I Love It When A Wedding (and a plan) Comes Together

[notjustaface]

There was no doubt about it, Mel/Mia was definitely in on the gig, between the gun and fake documents stored in her cabin and a key to what could only be a storage locker they had more than enough evidence to take her down hard.

Problem was, she didn't strike either of them as the leader of the operation - she was sweet, pretty, just the sort of con Face was the master of. Which usually meant there was a boss pulling the strings. With less than twenty-four hours before dock, it was hard to focus on getting ready for the wedding when he was going over every face on the boat they'd met in the last two days. Between the two of them, they'd practically been social butterflies - making best friends of most of the boat.

They're taking in some last minute time by the pool pretending to go over their vows only a couple hours before the altar, going over the plan if they can only nab half the pair.

"We'll flush her out," Face shakes his head, pushing up off his towel and stretching enough to make his small speedo even more scandalous. "Have Hannibal and BA grab Mia and then make a run for the hold - assuming the guns are in the hold."

Which is a big assumption.

Comments

[notthatcrazy]

His smile fades as he watches Face move through the crowd. He checks his watch before remembering he's not wearing one, humming "Chapel of Love" quietly under his breath.

[notjustaface]

Finding Hannibal and separating him from the barrage of chefs working on the reception buffet and finishing the lavish cakes was easy enough.

"How're the lovebirds doing?" He asks, stepping out in the hall to light a cigar.

"Catching some sun, can't complain." Face smirks with a cheeky shrug, speedo well hidden under his towel.

"Yeah, well next time a job involves the hard labor of lounging pool side..."

"Your plan, boss. Not mine."

"Mmmm." He shakes his head, "So you've got both smugglers?"

"We've got the looker," he replies defensively; "We're gonna have to flush out the boss."

"No... no... Face..."

"We tried, we did everything we could without breaking cover..."

"Yes, because I'm sure you absolutely couldn't help but stay in character while you were eating brunch with the Missouri Men's Club..."

"That was an official... casing." He sets his jaw, firm in his resolve. "We'll flush her out, boss. At the reception we're gonna grab the one we've got and head for the guns..."

"And I assume you know where they are?"

"More or less..."

"Fix it, Face. make this happen." Hannibal stubs out his cigar against his shoe. "I've got twenty quiche that won't finish themselves."

"Sure thing, boss. On it. See you at the, uh... wedding."

Hannibal frowns. "Keep your head on, kid." He cautions; "You're not the one with his head in the clouds."

He can't help it, it's written on his face just how much he's buying into the charade. "I'm good, boss. Everything's under control."

"Keep it that way." He pushes away and back into the kitchen, leaving Face to head back toward the pool.

[notthatcrazy]

He can't help but be a little relieved when he sees him heading back. Though he's still a little... what? Jealous? Angry? All of the above?

"Get everything straightened out?"

[notjustaface]

Frowning slightly, Face adjusts his tucked towel and runs a hand through his hair - pushing back the growing out curl.

"Something like that."

[notthatcrazy]

"What?"

He takes his hand, tugging him back down to sit beside him.

"No looking sad, it's our wedding day."

[notjustaface]

"Fake wedding day." He corrects, managing his way onto the folding chair without tipping it.

He licks his lips, pushing back the frustration and shakes his head; "Told the boss what was up, he'll drop it to BA. It all goes down in the morning when we hit port."

[notthatcrazy]

"Yeah. Good."

And all that frowning must be contagious.

"What's goin' on with you? You can't be gettin' cold feet about a fake wedding."

[notjustaface]

"No... no." He shakes his head, offering a mostly real smile. "Not that at all. Just, you know. The job. I'm not on my game. I should have put this together by now."

He leans in close, forcing himself to relax. "We should go get cleaned up."

[notthatcrazy]

Hannibal must have said something to him. It's understandable, they do have a serious job to do, but it's not like they've been slacking off this whole time.

Come on, boss, just let us have this...

"Yeah, it's about that time."

He stands, offering Face a hand up.

[notjustaface]

He doesn't need it, but Face takes the hand anyway - clasping it tightly between them as they cut across the deck and head for their cabin.

It's time to think, time to go over various snips of thoughts as he lays out Murdock's tuxedo on the bed as he listens to the running shower.

Part of him wishes things were different, that he could have been able to keep himself focused and his mind on the job, but part of him wouldn't have had it any other way.

His fingers trace over a delicate silk bowtie - then down the collar of the crisp white shirt that almost made Murdock look like a totally different man than the one he'd known for so long. "This is happening."

[notthatcrazy]

As it stands, he's still the man who sings medleys of various classic rock songs in the shower.

"You're too quiet," he remarks after turning the water off.

[notjustaface]

There are worse things to listen to, it could be the Sinatra reserved for baths.

"No such thing." He flashes a mild turn of the lips that might be construed as a smile to someone who only knew him in passing.

Tossing his small swimsuit behind him, he makes for his turn at the shower - they're still doing well on time and it's as good of an escape as any. "You forgot to pack trouser socks - I've got an extra pair you can use."

[notthatcrazy]

When he's that quiet it means he's thinking, and that often leads to trouble of one kind or another.

"Right. Thanks, man."

If he had his way he'd live his life in t-shirts and shorts, with the occasional appearance of jeans in cold weather. They're lucky he only forgot socks.

[notjustaface]

He doesn't mind being in charge of wardrobe - and always making sure something appropriate is packed. And he really just can't bring himself to let Murdock wear flip-flops at his wedding.

The shower is a respite for him, leaning his head against the warmed wall as the low-pressure spray washes away the traces of sunblock. Unfortunately, it gives him time to think as he scrubs down.

Dragging the soap across his abs, he remembers that lingering stranger's touch. Remembers how easy it was for his brain to actually consider the offer, that for a minute it felt good to know he still had it - not that he'd ever doubted it.

And then he remembers Hannibal's warning. He's not supposed to be the one with his head in the clouds, he's the one that's supposed to keep things together.

"Damn it," he closes his eyes, scrubbing shampoo through his hair. "Don't do this to yourself, man."

[notthatcrazy]

Their room is small enough that noise travels, even with the shower running.

"You say somethin'?"

He's halfway dressed by the time Face gets done with his shower, pants on and dress shirt in the process of being buttoned.

[notjustaface]

"Hmmm?" He shakes his head, choosing instead to ignore the question before making his way out as he towels off.

"Looks good on you," he smirks, eyeing the half-open shirt and unbuttoned pants.

[notthatcrazy]

He knows when you're hiding something, Face. You've been best friends and then some for nearly a decade.

"You don't look half bad yourself," he replies with a cheeky grin as he finishes with the shirt buttons. If it weren't for the matters of time and proper pre-wedding decorum, he'd be extremely tempted to jump him.

[notjustaface]

"Well, the birthday suit has always been a personal favorite," he quips, pulling on his shorts and an undershirt.

"I mean it, though. You clean up nice."

[notthatcrazy]

"Thanks." His smile is a little sheepish, almost shy.

"Help me with the tie?"

[notjustaface]

Letting his own shirt hang open, Face plucks the bowtie of the bed and shakes his head. "One day, I will teach you how to do this."

Of course, he probably won't - there's something undeniably sensual about looping the silk under his collar and tying it for him. Being close, smelling the familiar skin and soap. And that sweet, innocent smile...

"You ready for this?"

[notthatcrazy]

He could probably figure it out himself if he put his mind to it... but this is so much nicer.

"More than ready."

It's probably best not to read too much into that.

"Are you?"

[notjustaface]

The quick response draws a mild smile across his lips, and just the slightest weight in his gut that he'll pretend he doesn't notice.

"Sure," he answers after a moment's hesitation; "should be fun."

[notthatcrazy]

Don't think he didn't notice that hesitation, mister.

"Not like it really changes much, right?"

It's only the two of them publicly declaring their love for each other.

[notjustaface]

It's a lot on his mind, not that he isn't used to juggling things but it all seems a bit deeper than normal.

"Right," he replies quietly, finishing off the bow before sliding both hands down Murdock's sides, tucking his shirt without wrinkling it but running his palms around the inside of his waistband.

"Tell me it's a bad idea to blow off the reception."

[notthatcrazy]

Maybe if they weren't doing this under their cover IDs, it would feel different.

"That would be a bad idea."

They've got to see this through.