Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Ocean's 11

A/N: 'More things change' verse, set some time after the first movie.

It was just one more piece of surveillance footage he'd been going through. Apparently they needed to know everything there was to know about Howard Grundy. And, since the guy could allegedly spot a tail from the next town over, it had been all about looking at endless reels of surveillance tapes. Howard Grundy walking into Grundy International. Howard Grundy walking out of Grundy International. Howard Grundy drinking champagne in the office. Howard Grundy having dinner with his wife. Howard Grundy having drinks with the boys. Howard Grundy playing golf. Howard Grundy manhandling a waitress. Reels of it.

Linus was sick of the sight of the man. And, when Rusty wandered over, just as Livingston was setting up the next video, he was more than ready to say so. That was until Rusty stood bolt upright and stared at the monitor, leaning in close over Livingston's chair. "Fuck," he said, very, very softly.

"What?" Linus asked, staring from Rusty back to the monitor, trying to see what Rusty could possibly have seen that he hadn't. There was nothing. The tape played on and Howard Grundy, his wife and his teenage son entered the Embassy Ballroom and walked up to the first set of VIPs. Nothing there at all. Well, Grundy was a cold, arrogant jackass in a seriously unflattering sports jacket, but Linus couldn't see anything that could be worrying Rusty.

The cameras lost track of the Grundys and the tape froze. Rusty stood still and staring, a frown creasing his brow. "Danny," he said.

The thing that Linus couldn't help but notice was, he didn't raise his voice in any way. He didn't yell or call – hell, he didn't even turn round or make any noticeable attempt to attract Danny's attention. And Danny was all the way on the other side of the room and engrossed in deep conversation with Frank and Reuben. And still, seconds after Rusty said his name, Danny was at Rusty's shoulder looking at him enquiringly. "What have we got?" he asked.

Rusty shrugged in a decidedly unhappy, non-committal manner and Danny frowned and they stared at each other for a long moment, a whole lot of conversation going on where no one else could see.

"Play it again, will you Livingston?" Rusty asked at last.

Livingston nodded mutely and Linus got the impression he didn't know what was going on either.

He stared carefully as the tape played again. Howard Grundy parading his wife and son round the room. Laughing at something his wife said. Patting his son on the shoulder. And he could see nothing of any interest whatsoever.

"Fuck," Danny said calmly.

"Yeah," Rusty agreed. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Aren't you always." Danny shook his head slowly. "Fuck."

Rusty sighed. "So what do we - "

Danny frowned. " - we have to - "

" - we have to," Rusty said shortly.

"Yeah," Danny agreed quietly.

"We don't do nothing," Rusty finished softly.

"What are you talking about?" Linus demanded urgently, when his patience had had just about as much as it could take.

Danny and Rusty turned and looked at him, blinking like they'd forgotten that there was anyone else in the room. They exchanged a long and awkward glance.

"Grundy hits his kid," Rusty said eventually.

"What?" Linus demanded incredulously. He looked briefly back at the stilled image. Three days he'd been working on this. Finding out everything there was to know about Howard Grundy. There was absolutely no sign. Absolutely no hint or suggestion of anything of the sort. And for Rusty and Danny to just take one look at one piece of film and say that? It was unbelievable and he didn't believe it. There must be some other angle, or they'd been doing their own work, or they were testing him, or something. "You've got to be kidding," he said without even thinking about it.

They looked at him and didn't say anything.

"How can you possibly know that?" he persisted.

They glanced at each other for a moment, and there was a definite abnormal feeling of unease and unhappiness, and that only made him more sure that they were hiding something.

"Body language," Danny said at last.

"Body language," Rusty echoed a moment later.

"Body language," Linus said flatly. "From that?"

"Linus," Livingston cut in, sounding troubled.

He didn't listen. He was sure they were lying to him and he couldn't see why, and it hurt.

"Yes," Danny agreed calmly. "From that."

"And you're sure?" he asked.

"Yes," Rusty said with the slightest of smiles. "We're sure."

"Right," he said, and he didn't really mean to sound quite so huffy or quite so disbelieving.

Something in his voice or stance or something was obviously enough to attract attention, because Frank and Reuben came over, not even trying to look casual.

"What's going on here?" Reuben demanded, looking from Linus to Danny and Rusty.

"Grundy hits his kid," Livingston explained quietly.

"Bastard," Frank growled immediately.

And that wasn't fair at all. "What, you're on their side?" he asked Livingston.

"Now there are sides?" Reuben asked incredulously. "What's going on?"

Linus frowned at Livingston. "You see what they see?"

"No," Livingston said slowly. "But if they do...."

"What did you see?" Frank asked.

"Body language," Linus said sarcastically.

Danny and Rusty were looking at each other. Had been for some time. And when they finally turned to look at him he felt cold and he didn't know why.

"You mind playing the tape again, Livingston?" Danny asked mildly.

"At half speed," Rusty added.

Livingston nodded and pressed some buttons.

Danny and Rusty stared at the monitor and they were standing too close together, joined at the shoulders, the hands, the hips. And when they started to talk, it was all Linus could do to keep up, all he could do to separate out the voices in his mind.

"They walk in, the kid's a step or two behind - "

" - and off to the side - "

" - more than an arm's length away."

"And the moment that Grundy stops - "

" - there - "

" - the kid stops too - "

" - takes a step back - "

" - a quick step back - "

" - back out of arm's reach - "

" - and he's watching - "

" - actually he's always watching - "

" - his father - "

" - his father's hands."

He was staring at them and they didn't look at him but he could sense somehow their awareness. And he hadn't understood. So they smiled and explained. And he almost wished they wouldn't.

"He's waiting for a signal. Clenched fists, probably."

"He's always waiting.

Livingston shifted uneasily and the tape played on.

"Top of the stairs and the kid's looking round the room, quick as he can."

"Finding the exits."

"Escape routes."

"And he gets the main door, the side door, the far window with the fire escape - "

" - the kitchens - "

" - the kitchens, right, and - "

" - no. He missed the ventilation shaft."

"Huh. You're right."

"So he's ready to run," Reuben broke in.

There was some part of Linus that was still hoping that all this meant was that it was a really boring party.

"It hurts when he walks down the stairs," Rusty said quietly. "He's limping."

"And hiding it. Pretty well. Stupid bastard."

"Dress code is casual. He's the only one in the room wearing a tie."

"Shirt with a high collar. Baggy trousers - "

" - which don't go. But they're good - "

" - very good - "

" - at hiding anything he needs hidden."

"Grundy knows."

"Notices."

"See there?"

"He's not looking at the kid - "

" - but he's looking at the kid's reflection in the glass."

"Just for a second? He looks contemptuous. Angry."

"He hates his son and he wants him to hurt."

There was a slight pause and Rusty blinked and didn't look at Danny. Linus found himself chewing on his lip.

"And there," Rusty said eventually, "When Grundy introduces the kid? The kid's eyes flicker sideways at his dad as soon as he's finished talking. Like he's checking that he's done okay. Looking for approval. He hates it, but he does it anyway."

"And Grundy doesn't like what he hears."

"That's when he puts a hand on the kid's shoulder."

"He's just patting him on the shoulder," Linus protested weakly, and at this point he didn't really believe it. "It's fatherly."

"Yeah - "

" - not the way it should be," Danny said firmly.

"The kid doesn't flinch."

"But it's taking an effort. Still a stupid bastard."

"He sticks his hands in his pockets - "

" - but not before you can see that they're trembling."

"And that's when Grundy moves his hand up, just a little."

"Squeezes a little tighter."

"Digs a little deeper."

"He's looking for the bruises he left earlier."

"He finds them."

The tape came to an end.

Linus found that he was breathing hard and he didn't even exactly know why. When he blinked and looked up, they were watching him. "That everything, Linus?" Danny asked brightly.

"Or do you want to ask your next question?" Rusty finished, and his eyes were hard and his smile was brittle.

Mutely, Linus shook his head. He wanted to ask. He really did. He wanted to ask how they knew but he was afraid of the answer. More than that, he wanted to ask who they knew who'd been abused, and he wanted them to laugh and tell him that it came from watching too many After School Specials, too much CSI. Most of all, he wanted them to look him in the eyes and tell him that all his wildest and worst imaginings were completely and ridiculously wrong. But he felt like he was close to crossing some line he'd never even dreamt existed.

"So we're going to do something, right?" Livingston asked intently and Linus knew the answer long before Danny smiled and Rusty nodded, the silence tight and deafening.

It had become about right and wrong. And for guys with loose morals, Danny and Rusty had always been very clear on what that meant.

"What are we going to do?" he asked, and there was quiet apology in his voice and absolutely no pity.

"We should see how he likes it," Frank suggested darkly. "Child abusing bastards should get what's coming to them."

Rusty turned his face away uneasily. Danny shook his head lightly and his eyes were dark and for a moment Linus could have sworn he saw a different answer. "Nah. Forrest's investment, remember? We need to stick to the plan. Mostly."

"But we can take him down a little harder," Rusty said quietly.

Danny nodded. "Make sure he goes to prison - "

" - for a very long time," Rusty agreed. "Until the kid's grown up, at least."

"Reuben, you know some friendly cops, right?" Danny asked expectantly.

"Of course," Reuben nodded. "You want to meet with them?"

"We want you to get one of them to find a friendly social worker," Rusty explained, with a slight and inexplicable grimace. "One who doesn't intimidate easily."

"Once Grundy's gone away - "

" - send them in knowing the truth," Rusty shrugged. "Probably the kid's best chance. Foster care, or something." He didn't sound happy.

"It's not like the kid could live on his own," Linus pointed out. "He's fifteen." Way too young.

There was a slight pause. "Of course," Danny agreed.

"Wait, he's still got his mom, though, right?" Livingston pointed out, frowning. "I mean, we're not sending her to prison, right? She doesn't even know Forrest."

"She knows what her husband does," Danny said shortly.

"She knows he hits her son," Rusty confirmed. "She was watching. In the tape."

"She didn't care," Danny added quietly.

"That's no good either," Rusty said, looking somewhere far away.

"I don't get why no one else knows this," Linus admitted, before hastily adding, "I mean, I believe you now, I do. I just don't get why he wouldn't tell anyone. Or why no one ever saw anything."

There was a moment and Danny and Rusty both smiled at him, looking genuinely amused.

"Sometimes people don't listen," Danny told him simply.

"Most times people don't want to see," Rusty added.

"Oh," he said helplessly, and he couldn't think of anything else to say.

The moment passed and they turned away and the discussion began as to how to turn a conspiracy charge into grand larceny. By tomorrow there would be a new plan. By next week Grundy would be in jail.

Linus stared at the frozen image on the monitor, searching for fear in the kid's eyes. He wondered what it would be like to grow up like that, living from blow to blow, always alone, always afraid. He shivered.

He couldn't imagine.

He'd never know.