recklessthings | ♦ sophie devereaux

( oh right they were Doing Something. hardison offers a hand in greeting, and his best smile. )

Hey, what's up? I've heard— ( oh whoops, wait. ) —nothing about you except you got Sophie's stamp of approval, so. It's nice to meet you, Neal.

["You as well. Though if what I've heard through the grapevine is true, you lean more towards hacking?"

Look, you hang out with the FBI long enough you get bored and poke around at Sophie's new friends. Sophie smirks as she makes her way in, resting her hands on Neal's shoulders.]

Hardison is more than just a hacker. He's a budding forger in his own right. He was good enough to fool Claridge's auction house, and a rather discerning buyer.

[Neal takes that in and nods. "Color me impressed."]

Neal, on the other hand, tends to be a bit flashier which is why he got himself caught.

["Harsh. But fair."]

But I think his most notable alleged score involves a Raphael - St. George and the Dragon.

[Because since they're all thieves here, they might as well have a little context for each other.]

( hardison being hardison, puffs up a little at sophie's praise. praising him to an old friend, no less, and not part of a con where she's just padding a mark to trust him. he could get used to that.

and though he has been learning from her, he's a little distracted by the fact that "caught" has been thrown in the mix. but he gets there after a moment, impressed despite being a little conflicted: )

That one's, uh, that's one of the ones Catherine the Great had? Also, back up, caught?

( his neck's getting a little itchy, at that. he watches neal with a little more interest, now. )

[Neal winces, before lifting up his pant leg to show the ankle monitor he's currently wearing.]

Four years for bond forgery. But bond forgery was all they could prove.

["And then ..." Sophie prompts.]

And then I tried to run right before the end of my sentence, so I got another four years, but I worked something out with the fed who caught me. I "consult."

["We're probably going to throw Agent Burke the legal end of the case we're currently working on."]

( hardison's eyebrows go uuup as he takes in the view, and the information, and that little hamster in his head runs on its little wheel for a moment. the worry is still plain on his face for that moment as his eyes move up from neal's anklet to his classically (annoyingly) handsome boy face.

then to sophie, who he trusts. that trust is what keeps him from turning and booking it. two things are clear, though: his uncertainty, and open curiosity. hardison loves a puzzle, and he loves to poke and prod. not aggressive, just...interested to see what happens when he accuses: )

You snitch?

[Neal makes a face because he hates the word snitch, mostly in relation to him, but at the same time he can't blame Hardison for asking the question. It's not inaccurate, as much as Neal doesn't like it.]

Not on my friends, and usually only on those that deserve it.

[The kind of thief that's taking advantage of people and doing actual harm.]

But I thought that consulting for Peter allowed for more flexibility and options than being in jail. And Peter is the rare fed that's actually a good person.

All right, yeah.

( hardison's thought drift to detective bonanno, leaving him nodding in thought for a moment before looking more assuaged than before. not that he doesn't trust sophie. but they all have their quirks and flaws, and it's hard to shake the instinct to mistrust.

and speaking of flaws: when it comes to getting caught because of flash, hardison can't exactly be up on any horses of any height. plenty of hackers he came up with hopped from black to white hat—in another world, neal and hardison might be kindred spirits. )

Respect. I can get behind that.

Great. So - shall we eat?

[Because there is a freshly cooked meal sitting on the table behind them that's probably getting cold.]

And while we do, you can fill me in on what we're pulling Peter into, exactly?

( he'd forgotten about food, momentarily diverted by more pressing things like suspicion and flattery, and ultimately his own survival instinct. but as they enter and settle in and get to the breaking bread part of this meeting, hardison's thief instincts take a backseat.

his nana raised him but good, which means despite all imagery to the contrary on such a nerd of a boy, he gives quite good dinner guest. unfortunately he does still know nothing about wine, but that's okay. he can portion out family style food like any of them, so he takes sophie's plate and gets to serving while they talk. )

...and sourcing the wax for the seals these days has gotten practically impossible. There's a vendor on this site called Etsy that can make it but the woman is a dragon to deal with.

Etsy vendors are no joke.

[While Neal usually prides himself on making all of his own components for his forgeries, sometimes you need to outsource.]

Is it one material you're having a hard time finding, or is it just the whole thing?

( it seems like neal is on the exact same wavelength, and hardison's head wobbles in the indecision of yes or no. )

Six of one, man. There's also a glue compound I've been trial and erroring with a subbed component but it needs a week to cure, and we don't have the time if I'm also gonna get six paintings rushed to passable.

( he settles but doesn't start eating just yet. his eyes go to sophie, who always keeps her eyes on the broad picture for him on this stuff. it's only because it's sophie that he can so much as glance at the idea that he can't know everything. that he can't always figure things out on his own. )

Paintings aside, we decided the correspondence is the real selling point, but the more I learn the less I know, you know?

[Sophie gives Neal a meaningful look across the way and Neal gives her a slow smile in return. Those kinds of forgeries really are his bread and butter.]

Would you like a hand? Because letters are kind of my specialty.

( he's observant, so hardison reacts to their reaction and he's about to break the weird moment, his long finger lifting into the air. but he doesn't have to and he relaxes a little. just a little.

his eyes dart back and forth between them, between sophie and this new guy who have that thing the team has, that talking without talking thing. he watches neal for another moment longer, his pretty polished persona giving way to something underneath hardison can't quite clock. it feels familiar, in a way. )

Oh, you think you're so clever...

( this, he says to sophie. hardison's warm brown eyes slide to hers, full of that mix of annoyance and admiration she often incites in him. for the record: hardison thinks she's so clever.

sorry neal you're not getting a full answer yet, hardison has a hissy fit to throw first. and the team can't pass up a chance to talk about a guy directly in front of the guy, right? )

Why didn't you just say you knew the perfect guy?

Well, I hadn't approached Neal about the job yet.

[They had talked about the Peter end of things, but not the forgery portions. She sticks with Hardison's boundaries.]

Besides, you know more about what you actually need than I do. Why be the middle man when you can talk about it in person?

♦ sophie devereaux | leverage

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