I'd Love to Change the World

Something Wicked This Way Comes

"Georges Batroc," Steve placed a mug shot on the white board.

Natasha chewed on the back of her pen and stared at the victim's face. "Now why would anyone want to kill him?" Tony said sarcastically and Steve looked at him with the world's most contemptuous eyes. "I mean, look at this guy, better yet-look at his rep sheet." He passed Natasha the incriminating sheet of paper. "This guy was up to his ears in organized crime; B&Es, assault, assault and battery, attempted murder-"

"-Okay, we get it," Natasha nodded, passing Steve the rep sheet so he could copy it onto the board in his signature blue marker.

"Uh, hello," someone with a slightly watered-down English accent said awkwardly behind them.

"Hey, Ian," Natasha smiled, standing up from where she'd been sitting on Steve's desk, "what've you got for us?"

"Well, I just figured I'd look into the victim's bank accounts and I found this," he said, handing her a packet, and leaning over and pointing at a sum he'd highlighted, "and I'd already seen his rep sheet so, where does someone like that get this much money transferred to him?"

"How much was it?" Steve asked, the crease between his eyebrows ever present on his other wise perfectly sculpted face.

"Forty-million." Ian said gravely.

"Holy shit!" Tony yelled, pulling his feet off of Steve's desk and standing to grab the sheet from Natasha's hands.

"That's what I said!" Ian yelled, watching the paper as it traveled to Steve's hands and then, after a moment, onto the white board. "And I started looking a little further back, and every couple of months, he'd put in a new deposit for forty-million."

"He should be rich, like living in the 90210 rich," Tony said, looking from the paper's new perch and back to the tech intern, "what happens to the money?"

"Most of the time, he uses it up slowly-"

"-How slowly?" Natasha asked abruptly, and Ian shrugged.

"As slowly as you can with that kind of money, so like by the ten thousands."

"Can we trace the money?" Steve asked and Natasha shook her head, guessing what Ian confirmed a second later.

"He'd take it out in cash; fifties and hundreds." Ian said, and when Tony looked at him funny, "What? I called the bank and asked; I do my homework."

"Alright, what ever." Tony said.

"Hello humans from the land of the living," Darcy said and she walked over to them. She often called the upper levels of the precinct the land of the living (for obvious reasons), and referred to the lab as either the dungeon or zombieland. "Here are those crime scene photos that you asked for, and that were left on my desk for a day and a half."

"It's alright." Natasha shrugged and began to flip through them.

"Hi, Darcy." Ian said and she turned to him.

"Ex-zombie." She said curtly, and with that turned and left. She still held a grudge about his transfer from the CSI squad (as she frequently called it) to the tech department, saying he'd been cured of the zombie virus.

"I can't do anything to appease her." Ian said in an annoyed tone of voice.

"She'll come around." Natasha said blankly, suddenly engrossed in the photos. "But in the meantime, you should probably go help Bruce with the Hunter case."

"Yeah, alright, bye." Ian nodded and pushed himself away from Tony's desk, of which he'd been previously leaning on, and shuffled away dejectedly.

"Poor sucker." Tony said, and Steve gave him a side glare. "So, what do you think we should do now?" Tony said, changing the subject.