FBI Agents Thomas and Hagin, Hacker and Thief
Part 11 of the FBI, SULFUR Division
Spoilers: As AU as this thing is, SPN 'In My Time of Dying' and Season One-ish for Leverage
Summary: There's a sub-division of the FBI called the SULFUR Unit. They hire some familiar faces and hunt down the supernatural within the greyer boundaries of the law all over the United States. This allows them to interact with some of my other favorite TV shows.
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. I'm playing in both universes.
Hardison woke with a splitting headache and his wrist handcuffed to a pipe. He twisted around and could see Parker in much the same situation. She had that cute little frown on her face that said that she was fine but annoyed.
He could also see their captors. They looked like hitters to Hardison. They were strangers: they hadn't popped up in relation to their client or their mark in any way.
"Hey man," Hardison called out. "You guys don't want to do this. We're FBI." He pointed to the badges in the hitters' hands. "Not only are we FBI, but we're SULFUR. For the uninformed, we are the bad ass of the whole bureaucracy. When our people show up, they can kill you and make you disappear and noone will question us. Don't think you're goin' get away with this."
"You hear that, Sammy," one said to the other. "They're FBI. I'm quaking in my steel-toed boots."
"We are FBI," Hardison insisted. "I'm Special Agent Thomas and she's Special Agent Hagin. Release us and we'll pretend this never happened."
Nate was in his ear, ordering them to give them some clues as to their location. The cavalry in the form of a pissed-off Eliot was already on his way. Parker ducked her head and obeyed while Hardison distracted both of their captors.
"I've got a better solution," the talker said. He threw the badge at Hardison's head, making him dodge it. When Hardison faced the hitter again, the man was towering over him. Hardison tried not to flinch, he really did, but he had seen the damage Eliot had inflicted on enemies. The talker pulled out his own wallet and showed Hardison a genuine FBI badge SULFUR Unit.
When faced with a real one and not a photo, it was obvious to see the flaws in Hardison's fakes.
Who knew that the SULFUR Unit hired hitters? It wasn't like most people even knew about the unit, let alone had met a member.
"So you're in SULFUR too?" Hardison blustered. "You must be the agents that we keep missing at the unit meetings. Well, I'm sure everyone will laugh at this story at the next meeting."
The real SULFUR agent threw back his head and laughed, obviously not believing Hardison for a second. It was a good thing that someone was getting his jollies out of this since Eliot was cursing in his ear.
"I told you no SULFUR," he was muttering. "I told you that there was too few of them and they all know each other and to make the badges regular FBI. But no, you had to imitate someone that had the seemingly unlimited power, the lack of oversight."
"Nate said I could," Hardison grumbled.
"Obviously, Eliot's suggestion should have been given more consideration," Nate replied. The SULFUR authority and secrecy had proved helpful on several cases, but it wasn't worth getting hunted down by hitters in the middle of a case. "See if you can get them to believe that you will never use the SULFUR ID's again," suggested Nate. "If they wanted to arrest you two for impersonating agents, they would have you in jail already. They want something else."
"Hey man," Hardison wheedled. "No harm, no foul. You let us go. And, you know, keep the IDs and I swear on my Nana's grave that I won't make another SULFUR ID."
"Your Nana's alive," the quiet one said. "Hardison."
"Ok," and if that wasn't scary, Hardison didn't know what was. "I swear on my Nana's life. No more SULFUR IDs."
"What do you think, Sammy?" the talker asked the quiet one. "Do we believe the lying, thief-hacker?"
"Well, he didn't say that he would stop making fake IDs, just fake SULFUR IDs. There's a chance that he might keep his word," mused 'Sammy.'
"Use my name, Hardison," Eliot growled. "Tell them that I'd pound you if you go back on your word about this. And don't think that I won't."
"Our hitter," Parker spoke. "He didn't like the idea of SULFUR IDs. I'll tell him about this and he won't let Hardison make any more SULFUR IDs. His name is Eliot Spencer."
Neither 'Talker' nor 'Sammy' showed any surprise at Parker's revelation. "Is he here yet?" Talker asked. "I wanna start another bar fight with him."
So they knew about the comms and had let Parker and Hardison keep them. "No," Parker lied.
"Bummer," Talker sulked.
"We don't have time for this," Agent Sammy muttered. He stood and man, was he tall. "You give your word?" He asked Hardison and Parker. "No, SULFUR IDs?"
Hardison raised his right hand, which was still handcuffed to the pipe. "I promise. No more SULFUR."
The two men looked at Parker. "What," she shrugged. "He makes most of my IDs and all of my badges. And Eliot won't let him cross you a second time."
Agent Sammy leaned down and smiled at Hardison. It wasn't a nice smile. "Alec Hardison, don't give us a reason to find you again."
Hardison reared back in fear. "Message delivered, man. You won't know I even exist."
Agent Sammy picked up Hardison's SULFUR badge and tossed it to Agent Talker. Talker snagged it smoothly out of the air and pocketed it with Parker's fake badge. Agent Sammy walked out the door. Talker paused for a moment.
"Oh, and Hardison," he called.
"Yeah?" the hacker was waiting for some proclamation of a bomb or some such dangerous and dire end.
"Dr. Bad Ass sends his regards."
Hardison was still gaping when Talker slammed the door behind him.
"I can't believe the rat bastard ratted me out," the hacker breathed.