Title: One of them
Summary: They're the cunning wolves among the clueless sheep, the ones who pick your pockets, steal your account codes, beat down your hired help and charm their way into your life just to wreck it.
Author Note: Prompt a friend of mine gave me. Figured I'd run with it. was written on my Ipod during breaks at work.
Museums, it's one of the many tourist activities that the team doesn't usually partake in when they are in a different city. There's no point really since with all the items the four thieves have accumulated in storage containers and lock boxes they could put on their own art show, but sometimes it's fun just to wonder around a museum, to pretend to be a normal citizen-clueless as they walk around the building looking at priceless artifacts and pieces of art.
But his team's not clueless and their far from normal, that much is for certain.
For Sophie a trip to a local museum is like an outing at a local mall for most women. Wondering from gallery to gallery she stops to study paintings, sculptures and jewels as if window shopping in Paris, her critical eye able to pick out a fake with the barest of glances. Curators are drawn into conversations of their management of the old items, what type of action is needed to keep the paint on a particular item from cracking or chipping, all while thinking their talking to another curator from a visiting museum. Sophie grifts her ways around, heels striking the tiled flooring and head held high like she owns the place, confident in her abilities.
Parker of course first analyzes the height and climb ability of the building – or buildings in the case of the Smithsonian complex- and pointing out key anchoring points to anyone who would listen. Inside she continued looking for easy ways in-chink in the proverbial armor- while doing her own type of sight seeing. This usually entailed sniffing various objects not behind glass and sometimes the licking of a finger after and item had been poked. Her sharp eyes were able to detect the subtle mounted laser sensors and the placement of cameras before skipping off through the building and pointing excitedly at anything shiny or pretty that may catch her eye.
Hardison wonders through, barely glancing at the things on display –unless Parker suddenly pulls him in a general direction to show him something 'wicked awesome'. For the most part Hardison has no interest in 'dead guy art', his specialty concerning columns and rows of 1's and 0's. His phone out and thumb moving rapidly over the small touch screen, hacking as he walks, seeing exactly how long it would take him to get into the internal servers and emails but he smiles and indulges Parker's excitement and listens carefully while Sophie explains exactly why that painting is a fake-and what happened to the real one, but throughout the electronic devices he carries isn't far from his fingertips.
Eliot moves silently through the crowds of people, his attention on tracking the guards and studying their movements, his critical eye taking in every exit while his tactical mind makes the calculations of how many guys he'd have to take out in order to get the team to which exit. Always on the lookout for a threat Eliot is the least comfortable of the group as they make their way through the crowded galleries. Tensed and watching everyone warily he manages to keep an eye on the bouncing Parker, the grifting Sophie and the distracted Hardison while trying not to loose his patience or overly intimidate little old ladies who give him a wide berth and a scathing eye.
Nate watches and is reminded that although they may look like a group of old friends wondering around and enjoying themselves, they are the exact opposite. They're the cunning wolves among the clueless sheep, the ones who pick your pockets, steal your account codes, beat down your hired help and charm their way into your life just to wreck it. No, they are anything but normal, everyday bill paying citizens.
They are thieves.
And he's proud to consider himself one of them.