Epic by InSilva

Disclaimer: don't own any O11 characters and also, please don't sue me, Mr Cameron.

Summary: AU. Danny and Rusty meeting on board a ship. Yes, again.

A/N: Obviously, obviously inspired by what it's inspired by. Equally obviously AU. :D

For otherhawk for the random offsite conversation that brought this about and because she got all encouragey and then gave me the best reason ever to want to contract hypothermia.

Chapter One: Encounter

Terry Benedict relaxed in the comfort of the back seat of the limousine and dispassionately watched the countryside roll by. He wasn't concerned with aesthetics and beauty unless he could possess them. Somehow he doubted the British government was going to sell off Hampshire.

Still staring out of the window, he said softly to the other passenger, "So tell me what you think."

There was a pause and then the other man began to speak.

"The meeting went as we expected. Webster doesn't want us there, that much is obvious, but then company founders rarely welcome hostile takeover bids."

"Tell me something I don't know."

The man tried again. "Karen Mitchell is on our side."

Karen Mitchell. Finance director and minority shareholder. That made Terry's head turn. "You're sure?"

"Yes."

Said simply and with conviction. Not enough for Terry.

"Tell me why."

Terry could never take anything on trust. He always needed the magic explaining. Danny sighed without showing it.

"Her body language was open and inviting. She kept eye contact and she was giving non-verbals all the way through your presentation."

Terry made a little self-satisfied noise. "Well, it was a good presentation."

Danny ignored Terry's ego though it was difficult when it took up so much room in the back of the car.

"She didn't pick you up on the risk of committing capital investment to such a rapid expansion plan and she glossed over her supporting answer when Webster wanted to challenge your projected returns."

The noise this time was more of a grunt of dismissal. As if now Terry knew how the trick was done, he wasn't bothered. Nothing new. Danny stayed silent.

"Well, if Karen is on board, then good. She can make things a whole lot smoother."

Danny hesitated and then thought what the hell. "She'll bring Lewis Jordan with her too."

"The operations guy?"

"Yeah."

Terry's eyes narrowed. "What did you see?"

In the week before Terry had arrived to launch the formal negotiations, Danny had seen the chemistry that the two were desperate to hide. The way they had carefully ignored each other throughout the refreshment breaks. The fact that they were almost too polite with each other in the formal discussions. Nothing that Terry would understand. He gave Terry the factual.

"I was watching the car park on the second morning of the negotiations. Karen and he got out of the same car."

"Not conclusive."

Danny shrugged. "He was wearing the same shirt and suit. Easy just to change a tie."

Terry digested the information and gave an abrupt nod. "Good. Good. That'll give us enough boardroom votes."

He dug out his phone and started to dial.

"It's 5 in the morning in New York," Danny said hurriedly.

The look from Terry suggested that the fact was immaterial.

"Gloria? Terry. Take a memo."

Danny gritted his teeth and looked out of the window. Terry was Terry.

The limousine swept smartly into the docks and Rusty swayed out of its path with customary grace. He stared up at the ocean liner and ran a finger and thumb thoughtfully over his mouth as he weighed up the pros and cons.

A ticket back to the States, obviously, though that was neither here nor there. The main thing was that Andrew Lee was on board with that little gold statue. And besides Andrew, there were bound to be rich pickings within. Rusty pulled his suit sleeve down over his frayed cuffs. The con in London had ended up being a bit of a stalemate and he could do with a little success.

It was just a question of timing. To keep investigations to a minimum, robbery needed to be as close to the other side of the Atlantic as possible. Yes, there were definite pluses. The only downside was the idea of spending a week somewhere you couldn't escape from. Not even close to his comfort zone.

He was still debating when the well-built driver of the limousine got out and walked round to open the back door of the car. A sharply-dressed man with an attaché case cuffed to his wrist stepped out on to dockside. Rusty watched with interest as his nose wrinkled at the surge of people around him. Now this looked like a man he might enjoy robbing. His gaze dropped down to the attaché case and professional wonder started speculating. Diamonds, cash, gold….?

Then the door the other side of the car opened and a second man emerged. Mid-twenties, possibly a couple of years older than he himself was. Dark and handsome and miserable. The potential mark was in discussion with the chauffeur and Rusty saw the second man staring at the man's back, his face full of unguarded pensive unhappiness.

Carefully, Rusty wandered closer. Dark eyes were off somewhere else entirely and Rusty just knew there was a story there. Maybe a story he could use…maybe something to deflect attention or to distract the mark…

The man's expression became immediately neutral as the man with the case span round on his heel and barked something then the chauffeur started clearing a path through to the gangplank.

Rusty watched the procession of the little party and realised his mind had been made up for him.

The five men watched as passengers embarked. They stood in line and smiled and moved with the herd. None of them showed any sign of recognising each other. This was a serious endeavour.

Sometimes, it was a bonus that Terry refused to fly. Danny looked round at a room that oozed luxury with its chaise-longue and its rich drapes and did its best to convince you that you were in a five star hotel. The stateroom cabins were impressive.

Terry and he had adjoining suites and Striker was somewhere close enough to get here in a hurry. Terry was ever conscious of cost control. Mind you, Terry'd probably have Striker sleep in the damn limousine he'd insisted on bringing on board if he could.

"Danny," came the one word summons.

Danny walked through to find Terry holding out his wrist.

"Get this off me."

He produced the key and undid the cuff. Terry pulled his hand free and then undid the case and took out the box from Asprey's. Danny watched as Terry reverently removed the lid and there was a flash of blue and white jewel-fire

"The Heart of the Ocean," Terry murmured.

Danny looked at the necklace with the enormous heart-shaped sapphire and thought it was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen.

"She'll love it," Terry said and it sounded like there was no other option. "Get the safe open."

The safe was through in Terry's bedroom. Danny stepped round the luggage that the porters had brought up under Striker's careful eye and squatted down in front of the heavy block of metal. He pictured the heavy necklace around her neck. However hard he tried, it still looked like a slave collar.

Rusty had slipped on board as Mr Herbert Herbertson whose parents had obviously had a sense of humour. Having observed Mrs Herbert Herbertson - loud, bossy and demanding – Rusty would have liked to lay money that by lifting the ticket, he had saved her husband from a cruise from hell.

Now he was busy understanding the layout and ascertaining exactly where Mr Andrew Lee was going to be residing. The lower you went, the poorer you were, obviously. The bottommost rooms were well below the water line and as far removed from the state cabins as package holiday tourists were from travelling by private jet.

There were also definite deck boundaries. Those with the money enjoyed exclusivity and facilities away from the hoi polloi. After a couple of "I'm sorry, sir"s, Rusty understood that Mr Herbert Herbertson was confined to plebeian status. Well, that was OK. Rusty just had to find a spare uniform.

No one looked at a uniform. No one looked at a waiter with a glass and a bottle on a tray and a cloth draped over his arm, not even other waiters.

Cabins, exclusive kitchens, a cinema, select shops, a swimming pool and sports area, a ballroom…the list went on. All designed to wall and protect the very rich from class contamination. Rusty had no problem with any of this. He liked his marks rounded up and easy to find.

"You. Boy."

Rusty stopped and turned. It was the man with the bad smell under his nose from the limousine. He was seated at a table, wearing shades and had a phone pressed to his ear, studying papers.

"Yes, sir?" Rusty kept his voice deferential and his head low.

"Bring me a black coffee." The man didn't even look up.

"Certainly, sir." Rusty swept away with absolutely no intention of fulfilling the request.

Terry was a workaholic and expected those who worked for him to have the same work ethic. He was also a complete control freak and expected those who worked for him to act with autonomy but to keep him informed at all times. A distinct want to know rather than a need to know. Didn't make him any less exhausting to work for.

Danny stood under the shower jets and let the warm water run over him. He was feeling drained. In fact, drained didn't begin to describe it. The planning for these jobs was always so intense. Terry wanted the strategy firmly in place and the details drilled down to the nth level. No surprises. Work wasn't going to stop over this week, of course. Foolish to think so. Terry didn't do holidays.

The shower curtain was abruptly pulled back and Danny turned in shock, his hands shooting down to cover himself.

"Jesus, Terry!"

Terry was not the least bit repentant or embarrassed.

"I couldn't reach you. Next time you want to take an unscheduled shower, you clear it with me first."

"Clear it with you…?" Danny stared at him in disbelief. "Fuck, Terry, do you think you own me?"

"Oh, I don't think, Danny." Terry threw him a towel. "I know." He headed out of the bathroom throwing his final instruction over his shoulder as he went. "Outside in five. I want to talk about Virginia and the Linson Davis Corporation."

Danny killed the water and glared after him.

Andrew Lee's cabin had been located and the routes to and from memorised. The man himself had wandered past looking like he was enjoying himself, a blonde and a brunette on either arm. Good. If Andrew kept this up, Rusty would have all the distraction he needed to make the lift.

Rusty had returned to the lower decks and changed back but decided to keep the uniform in a safe hiding place. Wasn't like it was going to stop being useful.

Food wasn't an issue when there were vending machines and cafeterias and wallets that could keep up with the healthiest appetite. Sleeping arrangements were going to be more interesting.

He couldn't take the chance on the Herbertsons' cabin. For one thing, Herbert might have gotten on board somehow. An even scarier thought was that Mrs Herbertson might have come along alone.

A pass key would be helpful. He'd soon be able to find an empty cabin. Tomorrow, for the pass key. In the meantime, there was nothing that said he needed to be alone for the night or failing that, there looked to be several public places to linger.

He had not spoken to any of the others. Like him, they were dedicated to the mission and the vision. In two days, both would be fulfilled. He looked down at the contents of his kit bag and smiled to himself.

Danny sat through dinner and fought the urge to drive his fingernails into his palms. Not even the finest food and drink could deflect Terry from his next project and his next project was not one that Danny approved of in the slightest.

Danny had read the profile of the Linson Davis Corporation when he knew Terry had it in his sights. It was a well-respected, family run organisation whose chairman was the grandson of its founder. It looked after its employees, it looked after the local community and it yielded a healthy profit for its shareholders. And out of that entire sentence, Danny knew the six letter word that interested Terry.

"You find me a way in," Terry said, spooning crème caramel into his mouth and handing Danny a file with a thick sheaf of paperwork. "You hear me?"

He heard him. He wished he didn't have to listen.

"I asked you a question, Danny. I'd appreciate a response."

"I'll find a way in," Danny replied. The awful thing was, a plan had already started to form.

As evening fell, Rusty spent it with drinks and a very interesting conversation with a young lady called Erica which had been interrupted by her boyfriend, Gary.

The later it got, the more people started to disappear. There were still pockets of party-goers but lights were being dimmed, rooms were emptying and the encouragement was to go to bed and rest up and do this all again tomorrow.

Rusty headed out to the main deck. It wasn't cold but it wasn't warm either and he pulled his coat round him. His feet took him to the stern of the ship and he leaned up against the railings and watched the white water trailing behind.

There was something peaceful about the shimmy of the wake, regular and churning and the thrum of the engines was comforting. Over and over. A gentle kind of hypnosis.

All of which meant he was only aware of the man in the shadows when the man moved forward and climbed up on the railing, throwing something – paperwork? - into the water. Rusty caught sight of the man in profile, dark hair falling across his brow. It was the man he'd seen earlier with the misery on his face. The misery was still there, rich and heavy and Rusty's breath caught at that. It seemed as if there was an even chance that the man might end up in the water too.

He was already moving when the man's hand pulled back, ready to throw something else and Rusty saw what that was. He leapt across and stopped the man's arm, pulling the bottle free from the other's grasp.

"Don't waste good whisky," he suggested.

The man looked startled at the interruption and then slipped back down on to the deck, nodding. "That's good advice."

Rusty smiled and there was a pause and then the man smiled back. Deep and genuine and Rusty's smile became even wider.

"Come on," Rusty suggested, holding up the half-bottle of malt. "Let's go find somewhere to finish this off."

Somewhere turned out to be a sheltered part of the deck with a bench. Rusty found two plastic cups from a water fountain and they sat, sipping warming alcohol, their shoulders brushing up next to each other.

"Danny."

He didn't even think to lie. "Rusty."

"Good save," Danny said, tipping his drink.

Rusty crooked a smile. "You want to talk about it?"

Danny was silent for a moment. "Just had a bad day."

"Bet there's a girl involved."

"No girl," Danny said quickly.

"A guy? I mean I saw you get out of that limo with-"

Danny's spittake was immediate and impressive. "Terry? God, no." He shuddered.

"Sorry," Rusty grinned and then the grin died away. "He your boss?"

Danny set his teeth. "Yeah." Reluctant.

"He that much of a bastard?"

"More than you could possibly imagine."

Rusty sat and listened to story after story of Terry Benedict's victories and all the petty vicious little ways the triumph was underlined. Benedict was indeed an unimaginable bastard. But Danny wasn't. Rusty's first thoughts of using Danny as a fall guy had long since fled. Benedict was still a prime target to rob. Nothing Rusty was hearing was convincing him otherwise. The one thing he didn't get was why Danny was doing working for Benedict. He said so and Danny sighed.

"He took over the company I worked for three years ago. Don't know the reason he kept me on but he did and he kept me close. Keeps me close. Like I'm..."

Rusty topped up the whisky. It was clear what Benedict thought Danny was. His personal company asset. He asked the obvious question. "Why don't you leave?"

Danny gave a bark of laughter. "You think I haven't tried? Tendered my resignation on a Monday, worked my three months' notice and when I started at my new place, Terry was sitting behind the desk."

"He bought the company."

"Yeah. Next place I tried to join, he not only took it over, he bankrupted the owner and his family and ruined his brother-in-law's tractor dealership."

"Ouch."

"S'right." Danny studied the whisky. "I got the message."

"But there must be people out there who could take on Terry."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? Trouble is, word gets round. And then there's knowing who to trust. I got headhunted six months ago." Danny shot him a sideways glance. "Guess who was doing the headhunting."

"He is one sick son of a bitch," Rusty said with feeling.

"Says I've got a gift. Vision. Says he doesn't want anyone else getting a competitive edge."

"Can't you just...disappear?" Rusty asked. "Drop out? Change your name and leave Terry Benedict high and dry?"

Danny looked at him and his shoulders dropped and he gave a resigned sigh. "There's this girl..."

Tess. Her name was Tess. She'd been in Danny's life three years and two months ago, a new HR manager at his firm and there'd been a lot of smiling and even more flirting and then Terry had arrived and turned lives upside down. Tess had been kept on too. Moved to New York HQ and promoted and given a pay increase.

"Any of that work?" Rusty wanted to know.

"She's engaged to him," Danny whispered. "Guess some of it did."

The look on Rusty's face must have spoken volumes and Danny went on quickly, "She doesn't know what he's like. Not really. He keeps all the bad stuff hidden well out of sight. Tess just sees a successful businessman."

"Instead of a successful bastard."

"Right. Haven't figured out yet how to show her what he's like." Danny knocked back the drink. "Anyway. Enough about me. What are you doing here?"

The pause was less than a second while Rusty framed his story but it was enough for Danny to look at him and horror to dawn on his face.

"Fuck...you've been following me…" Danny jumped to his feet.

"No," Rusty said at once, getting up too.

"Terry sent you."

"No!"

"You were watching me get out of the car, you were there at the back of the boat-"

"Stern of the ship and I am not following you-"

"You going to tell him I threw the Linson Davis paperwork overboard? Be my guest!" Danny started striding away. "Terry doesn't scare me."

"Wait!" Rusty grabbed his arm. "Terry didn't send me-

"Sure. No!" Shaking himself free. "I think this is where we say goodbye."

Rusty stood and watched Danny walking away from him and wondered why it felt so wrong.

A/N: I promise I am writing "Relationship Matters". And "Body and Soul". And "Mind and Vision" and "A different perspective". Just that this got in the way. And hope you like.