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libraryofgage · 4 days ago

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The Wish Job (Two)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents Actually

It's me, ya girl, back again with another part to a niche au you never knew you needed

Anyway, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't :^)

For his first three months at Nana's, Steve observed. He was good at figuring out expectations and hierarchies from body language. Hardison was the top-dog, and a girl named Monica came in second. Both were older and helped contribute the most to the house.

Hardison's help was legally dubious. Nana tight expression, somewhere between fond and exasperated, when he told her bills had been paid or extra groceries had been bought were evidence of that. She never asked questions, though. Steve figured she preferred not knowing.

The kids who most struggled to adjust were the ones like Steve. They came from more affluent backgrounds, were used to more…everything, really. The other foster kids expected Steve to be the same. They seemed particularly relieved when he wasn't.

On his fourth month, Steve decided to help. He had to, right? How else could he be useful? He couldn't laze around all day if he wanted to stay.

And Steve did want to stay. He liked it there. He liked Nana and enjoyed helping in the kitchen. He liked never feeling alone and abandoned in the house. He liked getting a fresh start at a school where nobody expected anything from him.

So, Steve decided to help the only way he knew how: by being rich.

Or, well, pretending to be.

The places Steve could go and the things Steve could do with the right clothes and attitude were endless. Steve had spent most of his life being rich and still had some of the clothes. All he had to do was show up when and where the rich people gathered.

For two months, he smooth-talked his way into country clubs, art galas, high-class weddings, and one birthday party for someone's pet tortoise. He took party favors, pocketed silverware, accepted gifts from drunk seniors who wanted him to meet their granddaughters. He smiled and took, and then he pawned each item at different stores until he was flush with cash to replaces shoes or cover field trips or pay off school lunch debts.

He was caught by Hardison, which he should have seen coming. Nothing could happen in Nana's house without Hardison knowing about it.

He sat Steve down the night of a movie premiere (the after-party was Steve's hunting ground for the night) and asked, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Steve didn't bother trying to lie. "Izumi needs braces and Dennis broke his glasses. I'm taking care of it."

"Are you out of your damn mind? Do you know what Nana's gonna do if she catches you?"

"Hit me?"

"Worse. She'll say she's disappointed in you."

Oh. That was worse. Unlike his attitude toward his parents, Steve actually gave a shit about what Nana thought of him. He frowned and looked away, nervously smoothing down his hair. "But I want to keep helping."

Hardison stared at him long enough that Steve almost wondered if he'd lost his train of thought. "Okay," he finally said.

"Okay?"

"Okay. But you're gonna be smarter about it. We're working together so you don't get caught."

"What are you gonna do?" Steve asked, looking Hardison up and down. "You don't know how to be rich. You'd get caught right away."

Hardison scoffed, rolled his eyes. "Haven't you seen all those heist movies? You're the front man, Steve. I'm the guy in the chair."

"Okay. What's the plan?"

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"There is no plan."

"What do you mean there's no plan?"

"He means we haven't decided how to approach this one yet."

Steve looks between Hardison and Nate, eyes narrowed. "Aren't you always on top of this shit? What happened?"

"The details became…," Nate trails off, searching for the right word.

"Complicated," Sophie offers.

Nate nods. "Exactly. Complicated."

A moment of silence passes before Steve turns to Parker. She hasn't lied to him before; she won't start now. "What's the problem?"

"It involves your dad. You know, the shitty one."

"He's only ever had the one, Parker," Eliot says, rolling his eyes when she simply shrugs in response.

"Oh," Steve says. Everyone's hesitation makes more sense now. They didn't need to, though.

When Steve thinks of his father, he feels nothing. Maybe, years ago, he'd have felt anger or a deep-seated desire to gain the man's approval. But now? After growing up with Nana and understanding how a parental figure should actually act? Steve doesn't care.

"Doesn't that make things easier?" Steve asks.

Nate and Sophie share a look, and while they're distracted by each other, Steve and Eliot share a look of their own. They'll stop dancing around each other eventually, but that doesn't seem to be any time soon.

"Theoretically," Nate says, looking back at Steve. "As long as you're okay with being around the guy."

"How come he's never this caring when it comes to us?" Parker asks.

"Cuz we're adults," Hardison says.

"Hey, I'm 23," Steve says.

"And I pay income taxes for at least a hundred different aliases," Hardison shoots back. "Talk to me when you can match that."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yes," he says, returning his attention to Nate. "I can be around him. Why? How is he related to all this?"

"Your sperm donor got released a few months back," Hardison says, swiping the screen of his tablet. A photo of Richard Harrington appears on the screen grid on the wall. "He laid low for a bit, but then started moving. He and a few buddies set up a charity. One of those Make-A-Wish clones."

"Apparently, they scam both donors and the families they grant wishes for," Sophie says, frowning as she crosses her arms. "Wishes are granted, all seemingly for free, but then the families are charged thousands a few weeks later. If they can't pay, their belongings are repossessed and they're hounded by collection agencies. Your father and his friends get away with it by sneaking fine print into supposed liability waivers."

Steve's nose wrinkles in disgust, suddenly remembering a federal agent trying to explain the concept of embezzlement and different types of corporate fraud. Most of it went over Steve's head at the time, but he understands it all now. Even after spending time behind bars, his father hasn't changed.

"What's the plan, then?"

"You're the plan," Nate says.

"Are we running a Lost Heir?" Parker asks, her eyes brightening some.

"Sort of," Sophie replies, finger tapping her chin as she studies the photo of Richard Harrington. "I get the feeling we have to approach this carefully. This can't be a loving reunion."

"He'd suspect me right away," Steve says, running a hand through his hair. "But I can't be totally apathetic to him, either. I need to want something, and part of that has to be his approval."

"More like a Prodigal Son, then," Eliot says.

"A healthy mix of the two," Sophie decides, turning to Steve with a smile. "Let's take you back to your roots, Steve, dear."

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Steve doesn't spare the server a glance as he takes a canape from their tray. He pops it into his mouth and drops the used napkin back in its place. The food slides heavily down his throat as the server walks away without him offering so much as a 'thank you' in response. "Man, I hate this," he mutters, looking around the room.

"Don't worry about it," Hardison says, his voice clear in Steve's ear. "I'm already depositing very generous tips in the waitstaff's accounts."

"Save that for later, Hardison," Nate says.

Steve spots him across the room. In the crowd of fancy dresses and suits, Nate sticks out like a sore thumb. His suit is fancy, sure, but the way he's styled himself, from his hair to the cuff links on his sleeves, screams new money and desperation. If Steve were casing this party out, Nate is an easy mark he'd keep an eye on.

But Steve isn't here for that. He scans the room again, gaze drifting over the art on the walls and the people pretending to know anything about it. Finally, he spots Richard Harrington. The man is above the crowd, leaning over the railing of a second-story walkway.

"I'm going in," he murmurs, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing server as he makes his way through the crowd.

"Remember, Steve, you're reconnecting because you want something. He's going to want to see someone he can mold into himself, a protege that he can take advantage of," Sophie says.

It takes all of Steve's will to not roll his eyes. "Trust me, Sophie," he says, voice low and lips near still despite his speaking, "I know how to approach my father."

Once he reaches the second floor walkway, Steve downs half of his champagne. The warm, bubbly feeling in his stomach gives him the momentum he needs to approach Richard Harrington.

"So, what do you do if someone figures out the art is fake?" he asks, standing a step behind his father and to the right.

He watches as Richard Harrington stiffens and turns around. Whatever the man was about to say dies on his lips as he gets a good look at Steve. Despite the roiling champagne in his stomach as he realizes how much he looks like his father, Steve flashes an easy, confident smile.

"Long time, no see, old man."

Shock, interest, and amusement pass over Richard's face before he finally settles on a neutral smile that once made Steve want to curl in on himself. "Steven," he says, one hand pushed into the pocket of his slacks as he looks Steve up and down. "It's like looking in a mirror."

Yeah, Steve really wants to throw up now. "Guess I lucked out then."

"You know, plastic surgery is an option," Parker says in his ear, "If you wanna look less like him, I mean."

"What are you doing here? Last I heard, you'd been given to the state. That doesn't look like the suit of someone given to the state," Richard says, eyebrow raised.

Steve huffs out a laugh, looking away as he takes a sip from his glass. "I wasn't living the way I wanted with the state. Decided to change that, pull myself up by other people's bootstraps."

"I know you, and I still want to punch you," Eliot says, his voice low like he's sliding past people as he speaks.

Richard Harrington's smile turns a little more genuine, a little more interested. "And you came looking for me?" he asks.

Here it is. Steve hums, mirrors his father's posture by slipping a hand into his pocket, and flashes a smile he remembers from his childhood. It's smarmy, oily, speaks of getting what he wants and making people think he's doing them a favor in the process.

"Ugh. Now that is a rich asshole smile," Hardison says, and Steve almost nods in agreement with the disgust in his voice.

"I got far by myself," Steve says, using the hand holding his champagne flute to gesture to his suit and then the party. "But I want more. Figured you're the expert in getting it. You know, when you're not getting caught and jailed."

"Uh, Steve? Maybe don't remind him of that," Parker suggests.

He can see why she'd be worried, but Steve knows he's made the right call when his father barks out a laugh and finally removes his hand from his pocket. He steps close and claps Steve's shoulder, a cocky, self-satisfied grin tugging at his lips. "I always knew you'd be a chip off the old block, son," he says, maneuvering Steve so they're standing side-by-side at the railing. "Here, let me catch you up on my new business."

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Tag List (there's room, so let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@beelze-the-bubkiss, @twilitdragoneye, @dreamercec, @lee-da-vinci, @kultiras,

@strangerchurby, @bxnghy, @starstruck-prince,

#next day reblog #my writing #steve harrington #steve deserves good parents actually #leverage #alec hardison #parker #sophie devereaux #nate ford #eliot spencer #the wish job #richard harrington #steve harrington's father #future steddie #we're getting there #slowly but surely lol #anyway this was a lot of fun to write again

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libraryofgage · 5 days ago