THE OG AU

[conning]

[summary tk]

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[abrightboy]

Malcolm shrugs like it was nothing. Like he’s certainly not exhausted from keeping all those balls in the air.

“You should know that Peter took a room here last night. He’s in the building, so be careful.” A beat. “…Do you know why he would ask me which one of us initiated our relationship?” he asks.

[conning]

Neal frowns, trying to sort through the mess in his head to recall if there might have been a reason for something like that.

“Other than the fact that he doesn’t trust my romantic instincts in general, I have no idea.” He clears his throat, embarrassment tingeing his expression. He doesn’t like asking for help, even now, but— “Could I have some water?”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm supposes he can’t defend romantic interests that landed Neal with a mess, even if he benefitted from them.

He nods and gets up, going over to the fridge to fill a glass with cold water, then bringing it over to Neal, offering him a hand to sit up before placing it in his hands.

“Murdoch is going to request your transfer to interpol today.”

[conning]

He drinks slowly, combatting his desire to chug as the cold freshness hits the back of his throat. When he stops for a breath--leaning heavily on Malcolm's support, as much for comfort as anything else--he studies Malcolm's face. "How much do you trust him with?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm tilts his head to meet Neal’s gaze.

“Only what he needs to know. And as far as he knows, Rebecca Lowe being Rachel Turner was news to us when he told me about it. But I told him you have a chance to get close to her that we will only take if he follows my instructions to the letter.” He studies Neal carefully for a moment. “You have to do that too,” he says. “She’s a sadist. You have to handle her how I tell you.”

[conning]

"Rebecca Lowe being Rachel turn is news to me," Neal says, slightly dazed, but not from the poison this time. Or not totally from the poison. "I knew she wasn't who she said she was but... who's Rachel Turner?"

At Malcolm's order, he nods slowly, though there's clear reluctance in it. He's not sure why.

[abrightboy]

“A killer. An ex-spy. A sadist.” He looks at Neal. “But we can get her. Close a high profile case for interpol and then get you free.”

[conning]

“How was I so close to falling for her?”

He stares at his now-empty glass, a confused revulsion twisting his stomach.

[abrightboy]

“Because that’s what spies do. They become someone else just long enough to get what they need.” Malcolm is quiet for a moment. “Peter thinks that’s why you fell for me, too. He thinks I’ve manipulated you into it,” he realizes.

[conning]

Neal hones in on Malcolm all at once. “He’s wrong.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks at him, a smile slowly curving his mouth.

“I know.” He pushes Neal’s hair - matted with sweat and then dried as he slept - back from his face. He picks up the tray of cucumber rolls and offers them to Neal. “Do you want these?”

[conning]

Neal realizes, as Malcolm offers the food, that he’s ravenously hungry. “God, yes. I don’t even care what they are.”

[abrightboy]

“Cucumber rolls,” Malcolm supplies. “Eat them up. They’re for you.”

[conning]

Cucumber rolls, for him. Neal smiles softly. It’s not a bad lie, as Malcolm’s lies go, but— “Split them with me?”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks at him for a moment.

"One is plenty for me," he finally says.

He sits back... slumps back, really.

"I locked the door. Peter might not like that in this time of emergency."

[conning]

“He’ll deal,” Neal says, and then tries to get his fingers to cooperate with opening the container. His hands are tingly, clumsy, numb, and after a moment he growls in frustration.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm sits up sharply at that sound to look for the cause, then notices it and takes the container, opening it then handing it back.

“I didn’t want him to come in unannounced. I’ve been doing a lot of scheming and I wanted to rest.”

[conning]

"Thanks," Neal says softly. Eating is easier. He doesn't even ask for chopsticks. He can't imagine that would end well. After wolfing a few of the little rolls, he stops himself and offers the box to Malcolm. "You should probably eat something too. It's not licorice, but it's better than nothing."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm picks one up and pops it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

“So I’ve basically told Murdoch that Rachel targeted you, but we don’t know what she wants. Mozzie has disappeared with all his attempts at deciphering the window. Once we get the word that you’re working for interpol, we’ll call her. When I say ‘we’, I mean ‘me’. I don’t want her to know right away that you’re still alive.”

[conning]

Neal starts to brush a hand through Malcolm’s hair and noticed a bit of cream cheese on his finger. He swipes it across the other man’s lower lip gently. “You’re really good at this.”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm licks the cream cheese off his lip.

"At destroying someone when I decide to? Thank you. Let's not think too hard about where I get the instinct. She's earned it."

She can't unearn it now, not when she made a good man suffer just for fun.

He looks at Neal. "I'm not going to be a good person this week."

[conning]

"No." He winces a little, forcing himself to sit up enough that he can give Malcolm a proper kiss. "Crisis management. Adapting to the needs and circumstances of the con."

That last bit gets a crooked smile.

[abrightboy]

“Well…” he laughs lightly. “When you put it that way… I am almost constantly in crisis, so I must be well practised in dealing with them by now,” he allows. He pushes the container towards Neal. “Eat some more.”

[conning]

“I don’t know if I can,” Neal admits.

[abrightboy]

"Okay," Malcolm concedes, putting them on the table. "Just don't save them for me." He studies Neal's face for a moment. "We'll have to get some tests at a hospital but Peter said he'd facilitate doing it outside of New York. I think that would be safest."