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English
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Published:
2016-06-14
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1/1
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Save the last dance

Summary:

Victoria asks a favor; it involves Cooper in a tux and the most incompetent bad guy ever.

Notes:

Just a little thing...and mostly an excuse to stick Cooper in a tux.
As always, for my RED muse, Katie.

Work Text:

“William,” he nearly has a heart attack when Victoria appears in his office early one Wednesday afternoon, charming smile pulled tight across her face. “I was hoping I’d catch you here.”

“They usually don’t like it if I play hooky in the middle of the week,” Cooper makes it around his desk, bussing a kiss to her cheek and pulling out a chair for her. The office they’d promoted him to after the Cynthia Situation doesn’t have the glass wall and is easily twice the originals size. He has a large window to overlook Washington and a couch in the corner that he’s spent quite a few nights on in the past months. It looks comfortable enough but more than four hours on it and his back is trying to realign itself.

“They also don’t usually appreciate ex MI-6 coming into our house uninvited.” He takes the opposite chair with less grace than Victoria has just displayed, eyebrow quirked. “Not that I’m not grateful for the distraction—the paperwork was threatening to kill me.”

“I highly doubt they even know I’m here, my dear.” Her smile is pleased as she extracts a delicate looking envelope from her purse.

 “And if I can tear you away from what is sure to be hours of exciting red tape,” she casts a glance at the folders stacked neatly at one end of his desk, “I was hoping I might ask a favor.”

He accepts the envelope from her, pulling what turns out to be an invitation printed in gold writing on thick cardstock from it. He scans the details, notes the date is the coming Friday, and then passes it back.

“And how exactly can the CIA help you with a charity ball?” He leans back, one leg crossed over the other.  A small smile plays across his lips. “Or do you need a date?”

“In fact I do,” Victoria’s grin is wicked at his look of surprise.

“Shouldn’t you be taking Ivan then?” Cooper shifts forwards, frowning. “Or hell, Frank? They’re,”

“Closer to my age?” There’s still a teasing glint to her eyes so Cooper isn’t worried about making a run for it just yet.

“No,” he corrects because when it comes to age, he can’t talk. Not when he spends his nights in his empty apartment, hand wrapped around his dick to images of Frank Moses. “They’re who you usually work with.”

“I need someone different this time.” She relaxes into the chair, a snapshot out of time. “This requires a fresh face.”

“I’m still CIA, I probably shouldn’t be helping you take out a target.”

“Oh don’t worry about that darling,” she waves a dismissive hand and pushes to her feet. He follows a moment later feeling as though the decision had been made long before she’d come in to talk to him. “This is just for information. All you need to do is look like a pretty young thing on my arm.”

She pats his cheek, smile wicked.  “Besides, I know you’ve been going stir crazy lately.”

“I wonder who told you that,” she laughs and allows him to walk her to the door.

“You know how he gets William, when he cares. Francis is a worrier.” Victoria presses a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling back with a hint of perfume. “I’ll call you later darling to finalize the details.”

The fact that this all could have been done over the phone isn’t lost on him. Apparently it’s becoming a habit of the retirees to sneak into Langley. He wonders how long he has before Marvin shows up in his office. If he’s lucky it will be a long time.

::

Friday evening he’s staked out in Frank’s bedroom, pulling on the suit Victoria had brought over for him. He is studiously not thinking about how she got his measurements.

He is also very carefully not thinking about standing around in his boxer briefs in Frank Moses’ room. Therein lays the path to destruction. He casts a quick glance at Franks bed, at the thick, comfortable quilt laying atop it, and then has to stop himself from picturing the man in question laying there, watching as Cooper dresses.

Frank is safely down stairs, a bottle of vodka open between him and Ivan.

Cooper carefully pulls each piece on, noting how the fit is slightly tighter than he prefers. But the black suit and crisp white dress shirt are at least a familiar uniform to him, if the bow tie is a new addiction. He’s bent over trying to figure out how to wear his ankle holster (jobs with the retirees have a strange way of going pear shaped) without ruining the line of his suit when there’s a quick knock and then the door opens.

He’s got his back to the door, but he already knows its Frank; the others would at least wait until he called out.

“Hey,” he grunts, fingers fumbling with the straps.

Frank lets out an odd sound, like he’s choking, and Cooper straightens up, frowning.

“You okay?” he asks as a heavy hand lands low on his back. He freezes, feels the touch searing his skin through the layers, and then forces his body to relax.

“Fine.” Franks voice comes out a little hoarse. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to put this thing on.” Cooper shifts a little so Frank is pressed against his side and he can see the holster in his hand. “There’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere with Victoria unarmed.”

Frank huffs out a laugh, sounding more normal, though there’s still a red tinge to his face. He spares a moment to be worried that Frank is catching something when there are hands spinning him around. Frank takes two steps back, eyes raking over Coopers body, taking him in.

“I think you’ll pass.” He murmurs and Cooper rolls his eyes. “And I think you’re out of luck kid. That holster isn’t going to fit under your suit. And you’re not there in an official capacity.”

“I’d rather my bosses didn’t find out,” he runs a hand over his face. “They don’t really like it when I run off with you.”

Frank arches an eyebrow.

“And the others.” Cooper adds. He ducks his head and grabs his shoes to give himself a moment. The bed dips under his weight as he sits down to pull them on but Frank bats his hands away and kneels, taking a firm grasp on his calf before sliding the polished dress shoe on.

Apparently his calf is now an erogenous zone he didn’t know he had. Lines of heat streak through him, lust pooling hot and heavy in his stomach.

He clears his throat and attempts to speak around his suddenly dry mouth.

“You’re going to kill your knees.”

“I’m spending the rest of the night drinking with Ivan,” Frank shoots him a smirk. “I won’t feel it.”

Cooper is fairly certain that Frank is going to call Marvin over as soon as they’ve left and spend the night camped out next to the phone just on the off chance something happens. He chooses not to mention this. Frank seems to live with the belief that if he’s not there with them (whichever members of the little group it may be) they’re going to get themselves killed. At least that’s the way it seemed the first three times Cooper did this, looked up and spotted Frank Moses lurking nearby.

“If you run into any trouble tonight,” Frank is saying, hands gentle as he switches to the other leg, and shoe. “Victoria sent Marvin over to stash some goodies in the deep freeze in the kitchen.”

“It’s just information.” Cooper is eye to eye with Frank for a brief moment as the older man uses Cooper’s knees to push to his feet. For all his teasing Frank’s knees rarely bother him. When they do it’s usually because Frank has been pushing it too hard. “So you’d better put your feet up and ice those knees.”

“They’re fine.” Frank pulls him up, brushing invisible lint from Cooper’s jacket. He grins, the shape of it barely pulling his lips up, but more sincere than usual. It’s soft, delicate, and Cooper wants to gather it close and hide it away.

He wants to feel it pressed against his own lips, taste it and see how sweet it is.

“You boys had better not be getting that suit wrinkled.” Victoria calls through the door and they briefly hear Ivan’s laughter before the pair move away and presumably down the stairs at the end of the hall.

Frank takes a quick step back, and then heads to the door and Cooper is left feeling off balance.

“I still don’t understand why she hasn’t roped you into this.” He mutters, following after the older man. He leaves the ankle holster, and gun, on the bed.

“She didn’t tell you what kind of people this charity attracts?” Frank pauses and the look he shoots Cooper is downright gleeful. “You’ll love it Coop.”

It’s said in a way that makes him think he’s going to hate this one.

::

“It’s starting to make sense.” Cooper muses as he escorts Victoria through security, coat check, and finally into the grand ballroom.

Their arms are linked, her touch feather light but firm enough to lead him where she needs him to go. He can tell right away that he’s not the only one being led around.

The room is beautiful with a high ceiling, elegant crystal chandelier, and polished wooden floors. Tables are set up around the edges, leaving space for the graceful dancers in the middle, and a band set up at the back on a podium.

The room is also filled with a series of older men and women, the majority with younger partners on their arms.

“You could have told me you were a cougar.” He leans close, tone teasing. “I’m not sure how to break the news to Ivan though.”

Victoria gives him an arch look, directing him towards the bar with a slight movement.

“Just for the evening darling.” She allows him to order them each a glass of white wine. “The other option was sending in Francis and Sarah and that was less likely to work.”

Cooper sobers a little at the mention of Sarah. Victoria notices of course, what doesn’t the woman notice?

“No need to be jealous,” they stand next to the bar, out of the way. “That ship has long since sailed.”

His knowledge of Sarah and Franks break up is sketchy at best. It was back in the beginning when he’d still been trying to figure out what this little group of dangerous people wanted with him. He’d helped out on one job with Sarah and Frank, and the next it had only been Frank.

“I have no reason to be jealous,” he sips his wine, ignoring the lie.

“We’ll discuss that another time.” There’s a steel edge to her gaze that says he probably won’t be able to avoid the conversation forever. “In the meantime, I need you to flirt with that man over there while I take care of his date.”

Cooper glances over to the handsome young man standing nearby, wavy blonde hair, dark eyes, with a slender build. He’s pressed close to an older woman, with silver hair, streaks of strawberry blonde throughout it.

“I’m going to get decked.” He’s not overly concerned about that, but if the point is to make a scene, then Victoria should probably fill him in now.

“No you won’t. He’s been watching you since we got our drinks.” Victoria reaches out, snags two glasses of Champaign and effortlessly sweeps the other woman away from the young man.

Cooper doesn’t have much choice in the matter anymore, so he pastes on his most charming smile and catches his eye. The man’s name is Michael, their mark is Gladys, and Cooper spends a pleasant while chatting with Michael while he attempts to keep an eye on Victoria across the room.

Or rather, it’s pleasant up until everyone directs their attention to the speaker onstage and there’s suddenly a very familiar pressure against his side.

“Let’s take a little walk.” Michael says, charming as ever, save for the gun he has tucked between their bodies and grinding a familiar bruise into Cooper’s skin through his jacket.

“Yeah,” Cooper resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Maybe later.”

The pressure increases and he catches the sound of the safety being removed over the noise of the presenter.

He spots Victoria. She glances up across the room, her expression betraying nothing to the room at large, but there’s a waiter pressed just a little too close.

“My associate will deal with your partner. Now, unless you want to be responsible for these lovely people around us getting hurt, I suggest you come with me.”

Cooper doesn’t resist the impulse this time; he rolls his eyes and allows Michael to lead him out of the room.

They head out of the main room and duck into one empty hallway after another until they end up just off the kitchen. Michael ushers him through the double doors and they’re barely spared a glance. Cooper makes a mental note to have a talk with someone about the security here, it’s absolutely terrible.

Finally Michael pushes him into the large walk in freezer and follows in after him. Meat hanging on hooks surrounds him, boxes and cans spread around the remaining space. The cold seeps through his jacket easily and he suppresses a shiver. The door closes between them and the gun comes up, silencer on the end, aimed at his chest. Center mass, Cooper thinks with a hint of humor, still hard to miss even with your hands shaking from the cold.

“Now, you’re going to tell me what you want with Gladys and I might just leave you tied up in here until someone finds you.”

“Me? Nothing.”

“I know a mark when I see one.” Michael insists. “If you’re after her money, think again pal.”

Cooper can’t help regretting getting out of bed that morning, especially since he has to deal with this now.

“You’re already working a con on her, aren’t you?” Cooper asks, putting the pieces together. He crosses his arms, exasperated. “Going to take her for everything she has?”

“Shut up.” Michael hisses, face flushing with anger.

“Someone was bound to catch on eventually I suppose.” Cooper ignores Michael and surveys the room. “You’re not very good at this, are you?” 

“I said shut up.”

Cooper does as he’s told, but only long enough to grab a can off the shelf and whip it at the irate man.

The can hits his temple, and Michael goes down like a sack of potatoes, pulling a shower of boxes down with him. A handful of grenades roll out of one. Upon further inspection Cooper finds what must have been Marvin’s stash; he’s a little boggled by the sheer amount that Marvin thought they might need for this.

He also finds multiple sets of handcuffs and duct tape.

He slips out of the freezer a few minutes later, Michael nice and secure, and the local authorities on the way for him.

He runs into Victoria on his way back to the ballroom.

“I see that didn’t take long.” She peers over his shoulder as though he might be pulling Michael along behind him. “I left mine in the ladies room.”

“I’ll pass it on,” he glances around the room. The speakers have clearly finished, everyone either back at the bar or out on the dance floor. “Gladys alright?”

“Oh yes, poor dear didn’t even notice anything amiss.”

“Are we hanging around?”

There’s something very smug to her smile as a familiar shape sweeps up beside her, depositing a glass of Champaign in her waiting hand. Ivan murmurs something in Russian that Cooper doesn’t catch and probably doesn’t want to.

“That’s entirely up to you dear.” She winks at him. “But I think we’ve earned a bit of fun.”

“I think I just got dumped.” Cooper muses as Ivan ushers Victoria off to a secluded table.

“Looks that way,” he doesn’t startle as Frank sidles up next to him, but it’s a near thing. With Ivan here, he figured Frank and Marvin weren’t far behind. “Must sting.”

“I think I’ll live.” His voice is dry as a desert. He glances around, searching for the missing member of the retirees. “Where’s Marvin hiding?”

“Probably at home.” Frank’s dressed up for the outing. It’s like he was made to parade around in a tux, the long lines of legs, his broad shoulders; he looks absolutely gorgeous.

“What’s he doing there?”

“He didn’t have a date.”

Cooper sends the empty space next to him a pointed look and Frank laughs. There’s a confidence that exudes off him in waves and Cooper is as drawn to it as he ever is.

“Well since your date ditched you, I was going to ask for the next dance.”

He searches Franks face for the punch line but doesn’t find one, only an earnestness that surprises him. His chest feels tight, warm, and he can’t conceal the smile it brings to his face.

“I think I could spare a dance or two.” He agrees pleased when Frank takes the cue to slide a little closer, rest his hand low on Cooper’s back.

“I’ll try my best not to crush your toes.” Frank promises with a wink.

“Well if you did we’d have to find some other way to spend the night.” Cooper says casually, if only to see how Frank’s cheeks pink and his eyes darken. “Now how about that dance?”

“Not making any promises about those toes.” Frank murmurs and pulls him out onto the floor.

Cooper’s toes survive but they still end up leaving early.