Fic: Another Day Older and Deeper in Debt
Author: rivlee
Title: Another Day Older and Deeper in Debt
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Skinny Sisk, Webster, Liebgott, Smokey, Speirs. Webster/Liebgott implied.
Summary: Skinny Sisk does not get paid enough for this. Part of the Modern AU.
Disclaimer: This is all fiction based off the characters as portrayed in the HBO mini-series. No disrespect or harm is meant or intended.
A/N: Unbeated. From a prompt requested by archae_ology who wanted Webgott with Skinny once again stuck in the middle. Since we have a ton of Webgott, and not so much Skinny, I decided to give Skinny a chance to shine.
Skinny Sisk made a mistake as a kid. He got involved with some people he shouldn’t and wound up being told he could either work for the government or go to jail. After ten years of service with Uncle Sam, he was pretty sure he’d paid his debt to society. He was pretty certain nowhere in his job description did it read, must live in a real life episode of Divorce Court.
“It’s people like you,” David Webster said, pointing a finger into Joe Liebgott’s chest, “that force me to write these stories. The public deserves to know the truth.”
“People like me?” Liebgott asked. He threw down his hotdog, in utter violation of the city park’s no littering rule. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means,” Webster said with far too much venom for someone holding a snow cone.
Liebgott threw up his arms. “Oh, this bullshit again.”
“Oh, please, you’re working for an institution which blatantly violates our Constitution and most Human Rights Laws.”
Skinny took a long sip of his soda and pulled out his phone. He sent a text to his boss letting him know that if he had to keep doing this on his own for the next two weeks, he was turning in his resignation now.
It took all of three minutes for Ron Speirs to call him.
“Don’t think of it as a job. Think of it as a favor for Lipton,” Speirs said by way of greeting.
“Which is really a favor to you,” Skinny pointed out. Helping Ron help his partner, didn’t really seem to help Skinny too much.
“I think we can agree I compensate you quite nicely.”
Skinny snorted. “I think we can agree the jobs I do for you require nice compensation since they often involve dealings on a real life RISK board.”
“Babysitting Liebgott and Webster cannot be that bad, Sisk.”
“Try it sometime. Why am I even here?”
“Because last time the two of them got into it, Secret Service Agents had to get involved. It doesn’t reflect well on the Pentagon when one of their own is causing an incident on or near the Washington Mall.”
“I thought Lip works for the CIA.”
“He does. It’s a favor for Winters, really.”
“You’ve passed me off as a third hand favor?”
“It was either you or McClung and we both know how that would’ve ended.”
Skinny actually winced just thinking about it. McClung would’ve put a final fatal end to all the arguing. Skinny could just hear the epic amount of bitching Dect. Cobb would throw his way. There wasn’t enough valium in the world to calm that man down.
“All three of you owe me for this,” he muttered into the phone.
“How about I don’t tell Alley what you and Tab got up to the last time you were in Miami and we’ll call it even,” Speirs said.
“You know,” Skinny said, “eventually I will uncover that surveillance tape of your failed proposal to your first wife. And once I have that in my hands, I will own you.”
“Nice try, Sisk, but my first wife will destroy you if there’s even a whiff of that tape making it to the public. It would blow her cover and her image.”
“How is it exactly you have no problems sleeping next to psychopaths?”
“Who else is going to sleep with a sociopath like myself?”
“Besides Lip?”
Speirs stayed silent.
“That’s what I thought,” Skinny said. “Look, how long do I have to do this detail? You never did tell me if it was a weekend or a month.”
“Two weeks, tops. Long enough to make sure Web is too distracted to leak his story on those intel files.”
“He actually discovered something legit?” Skinny asked.
“Despite his attitude, Web’s actually not stupid. He’s always good at finding a shred of truth. Sometimes we use shark sightings to distract him, other times we have to apply the strategic use of Liebgott. It’s our silent agreement with the alphabet organizations around our nation’s Capital,” Ron said. “We do things like this for them and they try really hard not to arrest you, me, or any of your fellow co-workers.”
“You know there are other reporters for his paper too? Leckie, the new guy.”
“And he’s coming after me, I know. Harry and Kitty keep pointing his search results in the wrong direction. We might just have to let a good story leak to keep my ass covered.”
“And Person?”
“No one ever believes Ray, no matter how correct he is, so we don’t worry about him. Most of that paper’s readers think he’s pulling a prank when he attempts serious journalism. But come on, most people who read The Grassy Knoll are doing it for the Ray’s Rants column anyway.”
“Our generation’s own Dennis Miller.”
“May we pray HBO never finds him for some late-night stand-up,” Ron said.
“This is a fucking joke, right,” Webster’s voice demanded, cutting into Skinny’s conversation.
Skinny sighed. “Time to take care of the kids, Bossman.”
“Keep your head up, Skinny,” Speirs said. “I know this detail is an insult to your skills, but anyone else would murder both of them before the weekend’s done.”
“The only people who say patience is a virtue is those who don’t have it,” Skinny said. “I’m out.”
He hung up the phone before Speirs could reply and wandered back over to Liebgott and Webster.
“You cannot honestly tell me Superman is better than Batman,” Liebgott scoffed. “I thought Harvard was supposed to make you smart.”
Skinny pinched his brow. This was going to be a long two weeks. He sent a quick text to Smokey, demanding his whole stock of vodka and tequila. There was no way Skinny was getting through this sober.
********
Skinny laid his head down on the lunch counter in Smokey Joe’s Café. Webster and Liebgott were bitching over the lunch menu. Apparently they had to one-up each other on the better entrée.
Smokey put a huge cup of coffee down in front of him, along with two apple fritters.
“Doc Roe would kill you for this,” Skinny said, “but I just want to kiss you right now.”
Smokey smiled. “Do that, and the wife will castrate you,” he said. He nodded to Web and Lieb. “Why did you get babysitting duty?”
“Apparently watching those two actually made Shifty find the end of his patience. He even raised his voice.”
Smokey’s eyes winded in surprise. “Holy shit,” he mouthed.
Skinny nodded. “Everyone in Winters’ camp refuses to chaperone the two, and after the rumor that even Shifty couldn’t take another detail with them, Lip said something to Speirs in passing and here I am. Again.”
“It kind of makes you like, a security guard prostitute or something.”
“Smokey,” Skinny warned.
Smokey just smiled. “I can slip a sedative into their soup? Joe’s been experimenting with the powders and serums lately.”
“Is that a safe thing to talk about in a public place?”
“Hell, Skinny, you don’t think we sweep this place every morning for bugs? Someone is always trying to plant one. Harry keeps them as some sort of weird Art Deco collection. I just think he’s trying to get HBO to broadcast into his office.”
“Do you not understand what heart attack on a plate means,” Webster’s demand carried out over the whole café.
“Aww, David, I didn’t know you cared so much,” Lieb replied. He even made a kissy face.
“I do not get paid enough for this shit,” Skinny murmured into his coffee cup.
“Want my advice?” Smokey asked.
“Please,” Skinny said.
“Drop them off at a hotel and tell them to just get it over with already.”
Skinny nodded. “I normally leave that as a last resort, but damn, they’ve usually stopped their twisted version of foreplay by now.”
“Clearly this time is a different case,” Smokey said. He patted Skinny’s shoulder. “Just don’t let them break any of my cups this time.”
“In Lieb’s defense, he was trying to recreate an authentic Jewish wedding experience,” Skinny said.
Smokey shook his head. “You try telling that to our accountant.”
********
Skinny sat on Webster’s couch flipping through his ridiculous amount of cable TV channels. Webster and Liebgott were arguing about something in the kitchen. Probably the proper way to butter toast.
Skinny was pretty much beyond the end of his patience. Normally Web and Lieb had fucked each other five ways to Hell and back by now, and it always made the babysitting detail more bearable after they got it out of their system. There was something different about this time, as if they were staying away from each other just to prove they could.
Skinny never really got the appeal of having sex with someone you pretty much despised, but thin lines and all that. Apparently Webster carried a thing for the rough trade.
His cell phone beeped with a text message from Kitty, confirming she’d finished her hack job into Webster’s home and office computers. It meant all the evidence from the story that gave Dick Winters such a headache he needed to call Ron Speirs for help was finally gone.
Skinny stood up from the couch and stretched. He turned off the television and pocketed his phone. It was time to commence with the final phase of this mission.
In the kitchen Web and Lieb were in the middle of one of their staring matches. Webster was red in the face, while Lieb wore his stereotypical smug smile. Skinny didn’t even bother to ask about the spilled plant and overturned jar of apricot jam. There were just some things a person never needed to know about his sometimes co-workers.
He threw a key card down on the kitchen counter, along with some money and a map.
“I don’t know what you two are waiting for,” he said, “but by the grace of Harry Welsh you have a room booked through the rest of the week at a lovely four star hotel enough away from where you both work. Please, for the sake of National Security, just get it over with. I am going back to my job of arms dealing and counter-intelligence. It’s much less stressful to my nerves.”
“I really don’t think that’s necessary, Wayne,” Webster said.
Skinny was proud of himself that he didn’t manage to throw a punch. Most people knew better than to use his given name, but Webster occasionally liked to show off he knew how to do a background search.
Liebgott pocketed everything on the counter. “Webster, don’t insult the man that’s giving you a nice place to shack up. Mini-bar and decent porn included, am I right?”
“He’s right,” Skinny said. He pulled out his car keys. “Just try not to punch any holes in the wall this time. Hotels frown on that. And for Christ’s sake, leave the lamps alone.”
“It was an ugly lamp,” Webster bitched.
“You could’ve easily dumped it in the closet,” Skinny said.
“Thanks, Sisk,” Lieb said with a grateful nod. He smacked Webster on the back of the head.
Webster crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell, your boss we appreciate his covering the cost of something he’s just going to write off as a business expense anyway.”
Lieb smirked. “Web, one day you’re going to meet Skinny’s boss, and on that day, you’re actually going to shut up.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Web said.
It was Skinny’s turn to smirk. “Just wait,” he said.
He grabbed his bag by the front door, leaving Web and Lieb to argue over who got to drive.
Title: Another Day Older and Deeper in Debt
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Skinny Sisk, Webster, Liebgott, Smokey, Speirs. Webster/Liebgott implied.
Summary: Skinny Sisk does not get paid enough for this. Part of the Modern AU.
Disclaimer: This is all fiction based off the characters as portrayed in the HBO mini-series. No disrespect or harm is meant or intended.
A/N: Unbeated. From a prompt requested by archae_ology who wanted Webgott with Skinny once again stuck in the middle. Since we have a ton of Webgott, and not so much Skinny, I decided to give Skinny a chance to shine.
Skinny Sisk made a mistake as a kid. He got involved with some people he shouldn’t and wound up being told he could either work for the government or go to jail. After ten years of service with Uncle Sam, he was pretty sure he’d paid his debt to society. He was pretty certain nowhere in his job description did it read, must live in a real life episode of Divorce Court.
“It’s people like you,” David Webster said, pointing a finger into Joe Liebgott’s chest, “that force me to write these stories. The public deserves to know the truth.”
“People like me?” Liebgott asked. He threw down his hotdog, in utter violation of the city park’s no littering rule. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means,” Webster said with far too much venom for someone holding a snow cone.
Liebgott threw up his arms. “Oh, this bullshit again.”
“Oh, please, you’re working for an institution which blatantly violates our Constitution and most Human Rights Laws.”
Skinny took a long sip of his soda and pulled out his phone. He sent a text to his boss letting him know that if he had to keep doing this on his own for the next two weeks, he was turning in his resignation now.
It took all of three minutes for Ron Speirs to call him.
“Don’t think of it as a job. Think of it as a favor for Lipton,” Speirs said by way of greeting.
“Which is really a favor to you,” Skinny pointed out. Helping Ron help his partner, didn’t really seem to help Skinny too much.
“I think we can agree I compensate you quite nicely.”
Skinny snorted. “I think we can agree the jobs I do for you require nice compensation since they often involve dealings on a real life RISK board.”
“Babysitting Liebgott and Webster cannot be that bad, Sisk.”
“Try it sometime. Why am I even here?”
“Because last time the two of them got into it, Secret Service Agents had to get involved. It doesn’t reflect well on the Pentagon when one of their own is causing an incident on or near the Washington Mall.”
“I thought Lip works for the CIA.”
“He does. It’s a favor for Winters, really.”
“You’ve passed me off as a third hand favor?”
“It was either you or McClung and we both know how that would’ve ended.”
Skinny actually winced just thinking about it. McClung would’ve put a final fatal end to all the arguing. Skinny could just hear the epic amount of bitching Dect. Cobb would throw his way. There wasn’t enough valium in the world to calm that man down.
“All three of you owe me for this,” he muttered into the phone.
“How about I don’t tell Alley what you and Tab got up to the last time you were in Miami and we’ll call it even,” Speirs said.
“You know,” Skinny said, “eventually I will uncover that surveillance tape of your failed proposal to your first wife. And once I have that in my hands, I will own you.”
“Nice try, Sisk, but my first wife will destroy you if there’s even a whiff of that tape making it to the public. It would blow her cover and her image.”
“How is it exactly you have no problems sleeping next to psychopaths?”
“Who else is going to sleep with a sociopath like myself?”
“Besides Lip?”
Speirs stayed silent.
“That’s what I thought,” Skinny said. “Look, how long do I have to do this detail? You never did tell me if it was a weekend or a month.”
“Two weeks, tops. Long enough to make sure Web is too distracted to leak his story on those intel files.”
“He actually discovered something legit?” Skinny asked.
“Despite his attitude, Web’s actually not stupid. He’s always good at finding a shred of truth. Sometimes we use shark sightings to distract him, other times we have to apply the strategic use of Liebgott. It’s our silent agreement with the alphabet organizations around our nation’s Capital,” Ron said. “We do things like this for them and they try really hard not to arrest you, me, or any of your fellow co-workers.”
“You know there are other reporters for his paper too? Leckie, the new guy.”
“And he’s coming after me, I know. Harry and Kitty keep pointing his search results in the wrong direction. We might just have to let a good story leak to keep my ass covered.”
“And Person?”
“No one ever believes Ray, no matter how correct he is, so we don’t worry about him. Most of that paper’s readers think he’s pulling a prank when he attempts serious journalism. But come on, most people who read The Grassy Knoll are doing it for the Ray’s Rants column anyway.”
“Our generation’s own Dennis Miller.”
“May we pray HBO never finds him for some late-night stand-up,” Ron said.
“This is a fucking joke, right,” Webster’s voice demanded, cutting into Skinny’s conversation.
Skinny sighed. “Time to take care of the kids, Bossman.”
“Keep your head up, Skinny,” Speirs said. “I know this detail is an insult to your skills, but anyone else would murder both of them before the weekend’s done.”
“The only people who say patience is a virtue is those who don’t have it,” Skinny said. “I’m out.”
He hung up the phone before Speirs could reply and wandered back over to Liebgott and Webster.
“You cannot honestly tell me Superman is better than Batman,” Liebgott scoffed. “I thought Harvard was supposed to make you smart.”
Skinny pinched his brow. This was going to be a long two weeks. He sent a quick text to Smokey, demanding his whole stock of vodka and tequila. There was no way Skinny was getting through this sober.
********
Skinny laid his head down on the lunch counter in Smokey Joe’s Café. Webster and Liebgott were bitching over the lunch menu. Apparently they had to one-up each other on the better entrée.
Smokey put a huge cup of coffee down in front of him, along with two apple fritters.
“Doc Roe would kill you for this,” Skinny said, “but I just want to kiss you right now.”
Smokey smiled. “Do that, and the wife will castrate you,” he said. He nodded to Web and Lieb. “Why did you get babysitting duty?”
“Apparently watching those two actually made Shifty find the end of his patience. He even raised his voice.”
Smokey’s eyes winded in surprise. “Holy shit,” he mouthed.
Skinny nodded. “Everyone in Winters’ camp refuses to chaperone the two, and after the rumor that even Shifty couldn’t take another detail with them, Lip said something to Speirs in passing and here I am. Again.”
“It kind of makes you like, a security guard prostitute or something.”
“Smokey,” Skinny warned.
Smokey just smiled. “I can slip a sedative into their soup? Joe’s been experimenting with the powders and serums lately.”
“Is that a safe thing to talk about in a public place?”
“Hell, Skinny, you don’t think we sweep this place every morning for bugs? Someone is always trying to plant one. Harry keeps them as some sort of weird Art Deco collection. I just think he’s trying to get HBO to broadcast into his office.”
“Do you not understand what heart attack on a plate means,” Webster’s demand carried out over the whole café.
“Aww, David, I didn’t know you cared so much,” Lieb replied. He even made a kissy face.
“I do not get paid enough for this shit,” Skinny murmured into his coffee cup.
“Want my advice?” Smokey asked.
“Please,” Skinny said.
“Drop them off at a hotel and tell them to just get it over with already.”
Skinny nodded. “I normally leave that as a last resort, but damn, they’ve usually stopped their twisted version of foreplay by now.”
“Clearly this time is a different case,” Smokey said. He patted Skinny’s shoulder. “Just don’t let them break any of my cups this time.”
“In Lieb’s defense, he was trying to recreate an authentic Jewish wedding experience,” Skinny said.
Smokey shook his head. “You try telling that to our accountant.”
********
Skinny sat on Webster’s couch flipping through his ridiculous amount of cable TV channels. Webster and Liebgott were arguing about something in the kitchen. Probably the proper way to butter toast.
Skinny was pretty much beyond the end of his patience. Normally Web and Lieb had fucked each other five ways to Hell and back by now, and it always made the babysitting detail more bearable after they got it out of their system. There was something different about this time, as if they were staying away from each other just to prove they could.
Skinny never really got the appeal of having sex with someone you pretty much despised, but thin lines and all that. Apparently Webster carried a thing for the rough trade.
His cell phone beeped with a text message from Kitty, confirming she’d finished her hack job into Webster’s home and office computers. It meant all the evidence from the story that gave Dick Winters such a headache he needed to call Ron Speirs for help was finally gone.
Skinny stood up from the couch and stretched. He turned off the television and pocketed his phone. It was time to commence with the final phase of this mission.
In the kitchen Web and Lieb were in the middle of one of their staring matches. Webster was red in the face, while Lieb wore his stereotypical smug smile. Skinny didn’t even bother to ask about the spilled plant and overturned jar of apricot jam. There were just some things a person never needed to know about his sometimes co-workers.
He threw a key card down on the kitchen counter, along with some money and a map.
“I don’t know what you two are waiting for,” he said, “but by the grace of Harry Welsh you have a room booked through the rest of the week at a lovely four star hotel enough away from where you both work. Please, for the sake of National Security, just get it over with. I am going back to my job of arms dealing and counter-intelligence. It’s much less stressful to my nerves.”
“I really don’t think that’s necessary, Wayne,” Webster said.
Skinny was proud of himself that he didn’t manage to throw a punch. Most people knew better than to use his given name, but Webster occasionally liked to show off he knew how to do a background search.
Liebgott pocketed everything on the counter. “Webster, don’t insult the man that’s giving you a nice place to shack up. Mini-bar and decent porn included, am I right?”
“He’s right,” Skinny said. He pulled out his car keys. “Just try not to punch any holes in the wall this time. Hotels frown on that. And for Christ’s sake, leave the lamps alone.”
“It was an ugly lamp,” Webster bitched.
“You could’ve easily dumped it in the closet,” Skinny said.
“Thanks, Sisk,” Lieb said with a grateful nod. He smacked Webster on the back of the head.
Webster crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell, your boss we appreciate his covering the cost of something he’s just going to write off as a business expense anyway.”
Lieb smirked. “Web, one day you’re going to meet Skinny’s boss, and on that day, you’re actually going to shut up.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Web said.
It was Skinny’s turn to smirk. “Just wait,” he said.
He grabbed his bag by the front door, leaving Web and Lieb to argue over who got to drive.