"Webhead."

"Ricky B." Danny paused, thoughtful. "Ruben recommended him, which made me think for a second before getting in touch with him, let me tell you." Danny's voice was playful even as he was all business. "But he's good. He'll do it."

Rusty's finger moved down the piece of paper in his hand and raised his eyebrows. "Puller. Why's Puller on the list?" He took a swig of his beer. "I thought Linus-"

"Will not be joining us this time. I heard from him yesterday; he sends his regrets." Danny lowered his head a little and studied the tablecloth. "Something about his job and having to, you know, spend some time with family."

"I see." Rusty was skeptical. "And he didn't tell me because…? Nevermind, don't answer that." He paused, then said brightly, "Well, then, who'd you have in mind?"

"I don't. We'll just have to see what, ah, develops." He finished his beer and set down the glass, subconsciously looking toward the bar as if to say "Can I have another?"

Danny Ocean had a new not-so-secret admirer. The leggy brunette had been sending drinks and making eyes in their direction for the past hour, and it didn't take a genius to figure out which of them she'd been flirting with.

"You gonna do anything about her?" Rusty tried to sound interested. He was really about seven seconds away from rolling his eyes and leaving the bar.

"You kidding? Russ, we have thirty-six hours to fill more than half of our needs for Thursday. When the job goes off, then I'll think about subtly flashing my wedding ring."

"Which you happen not to be wearing," Rusty pointed out. He popped a couple of peanuts into his mouth and tried not to sound relieved.

Danny grinned just a little at the corner of his mouth. "At least one item on the list requires 'Roger Zuckerman' to be unmarried. I think I can handle a couple days without my ring on."

"In the meantime you're going to be beating them off with a stick!" Rusty said it as a throwaway as he got up to hit the men's room, but to get there he had to pass by the brunette, who was already up off her stool and striding in the direction from which he'd just come. Rusty's ever-present grin dimmed as she walked past. Her single-mindedness was a little overwhelming at close range, and Rusty couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something off about that woman.

* * *

"No."

"It's not negotiable; she's a specialist and we need her." Danny crossed his arms and looked at Rusty in a way that clearly meant I dare you to defy me, but in a casual way.

"So some girl flirts with you in a bar and she just happens to be a world-class explosives expert? If you ask me, you need your head examined." Rusty took another bite from his plate of steak fries. "It didn't occur to you that she might be fed? Or hell, even state or local? Your name and photo are in police stations across a half dozen states in the Southwest." He paused to wipe ketchup from the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

"We have less than four hours until we have to start making detailed assignments, and we were still short a Basher." He was infuriatingly calm, Rusty decided. It was easy to get mad at him when he was like this, even though he made a hell of a lot of sense. "You want to tell me where we're going to find another boom-boom in the next three hours, or do you want to let Talia in on the job? You can't nix her without a replacement. And I'm not turning this job down."

Rusty chewed. When he swallowed, he looked hard at Danny and said, "Why is that, Danny? Why can't you dump this job? It's not that big, and I'm with you on it because it's a job and working is better than just sitting around and, I don't know, running a hotel. But we could drop this. If there's another prize for you out here..." He paused. "There is, isn't there?" Danny didn't respond, but his shoulders tensed and released, as though he were willing himself to remain calm. "You couldn't be satisfied with Tess and screwing over Benedict? Christ!" he pulled the napkin from his shirt and threw it to the tabletop as he stood and walked over to where Danny leaned against the wall. "You know what, Danny? The best kind of jobs are the ones you have no attachment to, because if you've got something there, something more than the money, it makes you sloppy, but more than that, it gives them something to connect to."

"Rusty, I don't..."

"No, I'm not done yet. You know all that -- everything I just said. There's no reason for us to be here if you've got something personal going on, and if I'm going to stick around, I want, no, I get to know what. End of story, or I walk." Rusty was about a foot from Danny now, and as he got closer he could smell Danny's cologne as he looked him in the face. Danny returned the stare, not saying a word.

After a minute or so, Danny said, "Look, Russ, I know you're mad about Tess. I. Well, I should have told you last time. But you have to believe me that you don't want to know the other reason I'm... we're here." He reached out his hand and clasped Rusty on the shoulder, then walked out of his room.

* * *

Ricky Black, the technical liaison, doled out the audio equipment at the pre-job meeting. When he made it to the end of the line, to Rusty, he was empty-handed. "Where's my mic, Ricky? Where's the goddamn transmitter?"

"Look, Russ, you're gonna have to take it up with Roger; as far as I know, he's the boss here, and you're not on the boss's list for wires." He turned back to his cartload of computers, transmitters, receivers, and tech-geek toys, and Rusty fumed.

Talia approached him from where she'd just had her headset attuned to the group's broadcast frequency. "You look happy."

"Don't even start with me."

"Hey, just trying to be... what's the word Roger uses? Collegial? I had to ask him what it meant." She grinned and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, the one without the receiver inside. "It means friendly in the sense of coworkers -- colleagues," she said, mimicking Danny's voice poorly. Rusty could do Danny's voice well enough, when he tried.

Danny chose that moment to appear, stepping into the room and hastily closing the door behind him. "Looks like you'll get the chance to find out what's going on," Talia whispered, and Rusty's jaw tightened.

"Roger," Rusty said, giving just enough weight to it to both remind Danny who he was supposed to be and let him know that he, Rusty, was not happy.

"Russ," Danny called back good-naturedly.

"Can I have a minute?" Rusty jerked his head toward the door.

"Yeah, okay, but only one!" he grinned, which earned some chuckles from the rest of the crew. "Roger" was brash and a bit of a joker, but the others knew he meant business.

As soon as they left the room and Danny closed the door behind himself, Rusty frowned. "What exactly are you trying to pull here?" he hissed.

Danny looked around, then reached into his blazer pocket and removed a small manila envelope. He passed it to Rusty and put his finger to his lips.

Rusty, baffled, took the envelope and put it quietly into his own pocket.

"I'm benching you, Russ. I know you're mad at me, and that's not going to help us," Danny spoke just slightly louder than two guys arguing in the hallway would. He grinned. "I can't trust you to hold up in this situation if you're..."

"Let me get this straight," Rusty cut in, matching Danny for volume. "You're benching me because...," he paused, looking to Danny for motivation. This was clearly a ruse for the benefit of the other team members, but he wasn't sure exactly how to play it.

Danny jerked his thumb at the closed door and mimed a skirt. Rusty continued,"Because you're afraid I might get too close to your new girl? You saw us talking and now I'm out? That's real mature, Roger. Really mature."

"You don't get it; you're done. Sit this one out. End of story." Danny reached over to the doorknob and mimed stomping. As he opened the door, Rusty stormed off in a huff, headed back to the elevator. Instead of riding it down, as the rest of the team would expect him to do, he rode it up to his hotel room.

Once inside, he opened the envelope.

* * *

Rusty fingered the paper in his pocket. He was pissed at Danny for handling it this way, but glad to finally have some clue what was going on. The apartment door was, surprisingly, not hooked up to a security system. The lock had been easy to pick, too, which put him a little on edge. He turned left down the hallway and looked for-- there. Third door on the right, just like the paper said. He looked at it again:

You were right - T's fed. Not very careful, though. She works from home, keeps all her files in a locked desk drawer and on her computer. I need them to get a friend off the hook, so I need you to get them for me. The password is what we were eating when you came back from the men's room, but muddled. Copy the files, wipe the machine, take the papers, and you were never there. SAF 8p. D.

The desk drawer was also ridiculously easy to pick, and for a second Rusty hesitated, unsure of whether to open it or not. He grabbed the files from the drawer and turned on the computer. "Maria Castalenetti" was the only login option, so he clicked it and it asked for a password.

"Muddled," he muttered to himself. "What did... oh." He typed "n@cho$" and watched as it logged him in. "Talia" was remarkably organized -- and clearly didn't know how to hide files. A quick system search pulled up the relevant folders, which he burned to a CD and slipped into his bag with the paper files. A couple clicks and a drag and the entire contents of her My Documents folder was in the Recycle Bin. "Are you sure you want to delete all of the items in the Recycle Bin?" Rusty read to himself. "That would be 'yes,'" and he hit "Enter." While the computer made the little emptying-trash dialog, Rusty pulled out a gadget he'd picked up in a Radio Shack on the way over from the hotel. Clamping the portable electromagnet to the front of the computer, he plugged it in to the power strip containing the rest of the computer cords.

The computer finished deleting the files and Rusty flipped the switch on the magnet. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he paused. This had been way too easy. Why would a federal agent be so careless about security, and why would she work from home? He looked around the room until he saw the telltale black hemisphere of a hidden camera mounted on the ceiling in the corner. He grabbed the desk chair and, standing on it, pried the cover off, revealing the camera within, including its small digital tape. Pulling it out of its mount, Rusty ejected the tape and laid it on the desk next to the computer, where the electromagnetic field he'd generated would wipe it clean.

He replaced the camera and its cover, returned the desk chair to its previous position, and locked the door behind himself as he left.

* * *

"Freeze!" Rusty stopped where he was, facing a bank of elevators. He heard the telltale click of a gun being cocked. Around him the other patrons of the hotel were stumbling backward, away from the gun pointed at Rusty's back.

"Yeah, good to see you, too, Talia," Rusty said over his shoulder. "You think all the people in this lobby are happy that you just pulled a gun on a patron?" As his eyes swept left and right across the few people between him and the elevators, he answered his own question.: "I don't think so." He tried to think of his options, but stress was getting the best of him.

"You suck at nonchalant, Rusty," Maria sneered, walking around to his front, gun still at the ready. People skittered out of her way, staying as far from her gun as possible. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't march you out of here in handcuffs."

"You know, silver is so out this year. And really? Handcuffs chafe something awful." His pulse was racing; even so, he grinned. "Or," he asked smoothly, "are you trying to tell me something?" I'm sure I don't know why you just threatened me, and that's a violation of the law."

"So is breaking and entering, like you did at my apartment this morning. Care to explain your way out of that? Or maybe you give me my files back and I don't haul your ass in."

Rusty looked at her skeptically. "You know what? I have no idea what you're talking about, I have never seen your apartment, and honestly I have no desire to." He was talking fast now, words coming to him easier. Adrenaline, he thought, was a wonderful thing. "Given how you dress, it's probably a lovely place, but you're not my type. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to make..." He motioned to the elevators and inched forward, pressing the up arrow.

"I don't think so. I'm going with you, and I have a little something to say to your boss, Mr. Ocean."

Rusty managed to turn his face into a mask of confusion. "Are you sure you've got the right guy? My boss's name is Zuckerman," Rusty said, just a bit louder than he might've normally. By this time the hotel security officers had started advancing on the pair, cautiously. The rest of the hotel staff waited behind the counter in the main lobby, and most patrons had exited the front doors, loudly proclaiming to the nearby street that they'd almost been shot. A crowd had started to gather outside the hotel, watching the scene through the broad windows of the lobby.

"Ma'am?" one of the guards said, "We're going to need you to step away from this gentleman and put your gun down."

Maria reached into her jacket and whipped out a badge. "I'm FBI and this is a wanted man, so back off, boys," she said in their direction, never taking her eyes off of Rusty.

The elevator to Rusty's left dinged and opened, spilling a half dozen people out into the lobby, all of whom freaked when they saw Maria's gun. "Oh, my God! There's a gun there!" "Why does she have a gun?!" "Tell her to put that gun away!" As Maria turned her head toward the security guards to have them deal with the patrons, Rusty slipped into the elevator and hit "Door Close."

Quickly punching the buttons for the sixth, seventh, and eighth floors, Rusty stood back as the elevator took off. His room was on the fourth floor, but he needed as much time as he could buy himself. When the doors opened on six, he dashed to the stairwell and down, exiting on five and walking quickly to another stairwell. Down on four, he made his way to his room, grabbed the bag of files. He jogged down the hall to Danny's room, pulling out the spare key card Danny had given him as he went. Jamming the card in the door, he threw it open, and tossed the bag and key card on Danny's bed, closing and locking the door behind himself. He then returned to his room and called the front desk, pulling his cell from his pocket as he did.

* * *

"There you are, Mr. Ryan. Thank you for flying the friendly skies." The United Airlines agent handed him his tickets and Rusty slid them in his jacket pocket. His watch said 7:38 and his cell phone said 7:35; he had twenty-five minutes to find Danny and hop a plane to O'Hare. Security was easy enough; they didn't even catch the lockpick in his belt. He settled down into a chair in the waiting area at gate A6 and opened the newspaper he saw on the chair next to him.

Moments later that chair was filled and he felt a kiss on his cheek. "Hi, honey. Sorry I'm late -- the cab from downtown took forever." Rusty slowly turned to see Danny sitting next to him, bag slung over his shoulder, wedding ring prominent on his left hand, and a twinkle in his eye.

Well if he was going to play that game, Rusty could, too. He slid his hand into his own pocket and pulled a gold band off his key ring, slipping it on his left ring finger. "I'm just glad you're here. Work was busy, then?" He kept his tone light, just a bit sibilant on the esses. He and Danny had done this before, though it was a little more painful for him now that Tess was around.

"Oh yes. That new girl, she's just not going to work out."

Danny grinned, and suddenly it didn't matter that Rusty had nearly been shot this afternoon. He resisted the urge to burst out laughing.

Rusty lowered his voice. "You get what you needed? You never did tell me what it was for, not really."

"Yeah." Danny's voice dropped, too. "Bobby Caldwell got in a fix; somebody ID'd one of his subcontractors. He asked me to do what I could to ditch the evidence -- and Maria was right at the center of it. Somebody had to put out info to her that I'd be in the area, so 'Talia' could come work for me. That gave me the chance to send you in to grab the stuff." He had the sense to look at least a little abashed. "Sorry to put you through..."

"I just wish you'd said something." Rusty looked down. "Any clue at all, really. Why the silence?" Danny didn't say anything for a minute. Rusty looked up at him, and Danny's eyes were downcast. "Da-"

"Linus." Danny said it very quietly, but it was enough to stop Rusty from finishing.

"Oh."

"He-" Danny sighed. "He was Bobby's subcontractor."

Rusty's reply was wooden. "I thought... they didn't work together."

"They don't. Didn't. Whatever. Linus didn't know it was Bobby's job, but he was the best man for it." Danny paused. "He's okay, Russ. He's fine. But I couldn't tell you because of-"

"Because of... yeah. Fine. No, I get it. I'm just..." Rusty trailed off. "I wish I'd heard from him, is all." His eyes examined the carpet. "And, you know, uh. Thanks."

"For keeping you out of the loop?" Danny sounded amused.

"Among other things."

"You gonna see him again soon?"

"Probably. He, you know, knows what's going on. It's a lot easier when you don't have to sneak around on somebody." Rusty sighed. The next few weeks were going to be interesting.

"At this time we'd like to begin boarding passengers on United flight 5070 to Denver with continuing service to Chicago O'Hare International Airport..." the attendant at the podium started, and Danny stood up. Rusty folded the paper he'd been reading and put it on the chair on his other side.

"Let's go, honey," Danny said, and grabbed Rusty's hand, pulling him up out of the chair. "This is so exciting! I've never been to Chicago before!" He slid his arm around Rusty's waist as the two of them walked up to the podium and onto the plane.