Under My Skin

Under My Skin - Part 52

Wilson checked over the lobby again, wishing he could loosen his tie just a little. When he applied to be a security guard at the Luvor he hadn't expected wearing a suit at all hours. Worse, thanks to that decorator's insistence, during the fundraiser he was expected to wear a tux. He actually missed his old job where the worst thing he wore was a rent-a-cop outfit. The warehouse district had been a two man job, now he was one of a dozen suits with tazer guns making sure the pampered guests, from the executives to their wife's purse-poodles, were safe.

The guard sighed. It could have been worse. At least this job had better health benefits and would be willing to cover a possible tranquilizer dart to the arm, unlike his previous employers. Cheap bastards.

The kitchen was next on his list to look over for his shift. Aside from the possible drunk trying to get in or church group protesting the use of stem-cells in cancer research, he expected the night to be quiet and boring.

Wilson swung open the kitchen door and crashed into one of Sharon's assistants, causing him to drop a large roll of vinyl.

"Ouch, sorry about that," said the assistant picking up the roll.

"Nah, my fault. You okay?"

"Fine. Better get this to Sharon before she flips."

"I hear you. Good luck with her."

The assistant bobbed his head in thanks and left.

Wilson continued towards the kitchen loading dock and then froze, déjà vu creeping up to the tie strangling his neck. That assistant had looked familiar...

Nah. He was just being paranoid. He couldn't wait for the day to be over, and he still had to get into that damn rented tuxedo.

***

Will stopped outside the ballroom and glanced back at the kitchen door. The suited security guard had looked familiar, but from where? One of Kole's men? No, he didn't fit the profile.

He shook his head. Ever since the Devil's Neckbrace came off his back his mind had been grasping at new fears. Time to think of something positive. The day was young and he couldn't wait to Bond up for the fundraiser.

***

Once the cameras and microphones were set, two field agents took over viewing the Luvor from the van and the team went back to base to change into their formalwear. However, not everyone was happy with the fundraiser's decision to enforce a white tie dress code.

"How am I supposed to hide a firearm in this penguin suit?" said Louis. Reflected in the long mirror in Rachel's lab, Louis tugged on the white vest bulging over his shoulder holsters.

"The jacket isn't supposed to button up," called Will from behind the separation curtain. "Loosen the back of the vest and you'll be fine."

Double breasted and bottom front cut away to the tails in the back, the jet black jacket was loose around the shoulders when Louis slipped it on. Better than too tight. As he readjusted the knife strapped to his leg under his pants Reese walked in with Massaru holding his white tie.

"This tux better have doves in the sleeves for what I paid to rent it," muttered Reese.

"You know," started Massaru as he helped Reese with his tie. "The cummerbund, usually worn with black tie, originated in British India as an alternative to the waistcoat. I remember my mother having a fit when I decided to wear one to my wedding instead of the waistcoat."

"Did you look good?" asked Reese.

"That was almost thirty years ago." Massaru chuckled and finished the bow, gesturing to the hospital scrubs he still wore. "Anything I wore then looks better than what I could wear now."

"You think we look posh enough?" said Reese trying to fit a lock pick in his vest.

"Any posher and we'd be working the party as waiters instead of dancing," said Will as he came around the separation curtain with his tux complete except for the white tie.

"More posh," corrected Reese.

Louis' jaw dropped a quarter of an inch before he clicked his mouth shut. Will's hair was slicked back making his features appear sharper and his green eyes more serious. The line of his shoulders seemed wider, chest broader, and the rest of his body like a pillar all the way down to his shiny black shoes. He didn't look like a Fanboy; he looked like something from a movie.

It wasn't right.

"How did you get such a close fitting tux so soon?" asked Louis, still tugging at his vest.

Will grinned, banishing the serious expression. "I told you I had a tux in the back of my closet."

"Bond, spy-boy fanatic..."

Will looked at himself in the mirror, passing his hand down his vest and checking out the sleek figure he made. Louis' eyes couldn't help but follow where that hand went.

"A little tighter than I expected," admitted Will. "But all I need is a white carnation and a top hat and I could be Fred Astaire. Do you need help with your tie?"

The bit of white cotton marcelle hung loose from Louis' fingers. "No, I've got it."

Beni walked in followed by Rachel and Cetz with a tray of communicators. Will whistled. Beni, following the dress code of white and black, was wearing a white lace dress that ended just above her knees and had her hair up with pearl pins.

"Ah... good day, Miss Moneypenny," said Reese with a Scottish brogue.

"Looking nice," commented Will.

Louis grunted and fiddled again with his tie.

"Right." Beni pointed to Reese. "Make any cracks about walking me down the aisle in a white dress and I'll make sure you don't have a genetic legacy."

"Great..." said Reese. "I guess that means I'm banned from your dance card."

"With your feet you're banned from all dance cards."

Cetz bright them back to order and handed out the communicators, assigning them an open channel with each other, but gave Will and Louis their SkySprechts just in case. They were given the rundown of the night. Louis, Reese, Will, and Beni were to be the inside eyes and ears searching for Doctor Palmer in case he showed up. Another team in street clothes would be outside keeping their own eyes open for Palmer. If either team found Palmer they were to take him to the van and get him straight to the Watch, leaving one person behind to look out for Kore's men. If they didn't find him... well, they at least had an opportunity at some free fancy finger foods.

As Cetz led them in the walk to the garage and their transport, Will tugged on Louis' sleeve, making him lag behind.

"What?" snapped Louis.

Will handed him a slim metal case. "In lieu of a corsage, I got you this."

"This isn't a date, Fanboy." Opening the case, Louis found a pair of shades, small, sleek, and closer fitting than the large frames he had on. The lenses were a shade darker than his usual ones, and the rims were brushed silver. "You didn't have to give me these."

"Yes I did," said Will. "If that decorator is at the fundraiser she might recognize you with the shades from earlier, so I picked these up."

"Oh, good point," said Louis gruffly, closing his eyes for a moment as he switched out the shades. Wearing shades without the patina of scratches was a relief.

"Besides," continued Will as he quickened his pace to catch up with the others. "I figured it would improve your Stevie Wonder look."

Louis growled. He hoped there was coffee at the Luvor.

***

Retten smiled softly on his side of the laptop screen, the pixels in the video making his teeth blocky. "You're a resourceful man, I'm sure you'll think of something. But remember, he's no good to me dead."

The person sitting in the dark room nodded and logged off. He had one night to get his target. He could not afford failure.