ficwize | FIC: Mirror Images (T:SCC/Burn Notice)

Title: Mirror Images
Fandom: Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles/Burn Notice
Prompt: Lost
Warnings: None
Rating: Teen
Summary: Sometimes, the best laid plans go astray.
Disclaimer: Neither of these fandoms are mine.
A/N: Written for the crossover challenge at

sccxovers. Many thanks to

dramady for the beta.

As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.

*************

"Did you get the job done?" Sarah's voice cut through the fog of pain eating at Derek's consciousness and he lowered the icepack he'd been holding pressed to his face to glare at her.

"No."

"Dammit, Derek." She matched his angry glare with one of her own. "It wasn't that hard of a job. What happened?"

"There was someone there." Derek shrugged, moving the icepack back to his swollen eye. "He objected to my presence rather strenuously." He heard her moving before she grabbed his wrist and jerked his hand so that the icepack wasn't blocking his vision anymore.

John stirred slightly where he was leaning against the door. He was trying very hard not to smile at Derek’s barely repressed fury. It wasn’t often that his uncle came out worse in a fight. Sarah ignored her son in favor of continuing to rant at Derek.

"If you didn't plant the virus in Hyberdyne’s Miami office, then all the work we've done in California doesn't matter." She spoke to him through ground teeth. "We came all the way down here... to Florida... and the best excuse you can give me is that someone objected to you being there?"

Derek jerked his wrist free and pointedly pressed the compress back to his bruising and swelling face. "He strenuously objected."

This time John snickered into his hand. He did his best to look innocent when Sarah and Derek both turned their glares towards him. Holding up his hands in a gesture of defenselessness, he shrugged. “Cameron said Hyberdyne bought some of Goode’s software. That’s all I know. I’m staying out of it.”

Sarah shook her head and turned back to Derek. "I thought you were supposed to be one of the best. Isn't that why John sent you back?"

His pride stinging, Derek stood up and started pacing. "I am one of the best. But this guy... whoever he was... he was good. Dammit! This isn't my first time in a fight. I barely got out of there without getting my ass kicked." He used his free hand to gesture at the rather spectacular bruise growing along his jaw.

“You didn’t get out of there without getting your ass kicked.” John pointed out dryly, studying his uncle from a safe distance across the room. Derek was a mass of bruises and judging from the stilted way he was moving, the bruises on his face were only the tip of the iceberg.

Derek could feel the muscle in his jaw pop out and he took a deep breath and concentrated on not throttling the future Savior of Mankind. “Be that as it may… not many people can kick my ass. Even if I’m caught unsuspecting.” He turned his fury back to Sarah. “And I wasn’t caught unsuspecting.”

“Was he a machine?” Sarah demanded. “A Terminator?”

Derek snorted. “He wasn’t metal. He was all too human.”

Sarah stared at him thoughtfully for a moment. "You're saying that he was a professional."

"Yeah."

“Shit.” Sarah cursed softly, but with feeling. “It doesn’t make any sense. We know why the machines are protecting Hyberdyne. Why was this guy here?”

“My best guess,” Derek offered, sitting down with a stifled groan, “is that he’s some government asshole. But he didn’t have the red tape beaurocratic feel of a Fed.”

"A merc?" Sarah watched Derek hold his ribs, thoughtfully.

"Something." He shrugged. "All I know is that he was expecting me. And he was damn good."

"So now what?" Sarah demanded. "We go home and let Hyberdyne fester down here in the heat of Miami until Skynet springs forth fully grown?”

“This ain’t a Greek tragedy yet,” Derek smirked as much as he could with half his face hidden under an ice pack. "It wasn't a total loss. We did some pretty severe damage to the servers during that fight." He made a contemplative face. "A few bullet holes... lots of smoke... the sprinklers went off. Hyberdyne Miami is going to be counting on their Sunnyvale office in sunny California for all the information back ups to get up and running again."

"And we took those out yesterday." Sarah nodded, a tight smile on her face. "You bought us some time. At least.”

“Yeah.” Derek reached for the Tylenol. “And that’s always a good thing. We can rethink our strategy. Next time, I’ll be more prepared."

“No way.” Sarah shook her head. “You’re not going in there alone again. Next time we will be more prepared.”

“If you say so.” Derek popped two of the pills without any water to wash them down. Sarah moved to the other bed in the hotel room, sharing a secret smile with John, even as she opened the door to let Cameron know she should keep watch outside until dawn. “What’s so funny?” Derek asked, when she came back inside and shut the door.

“Nothing.” Sarah shook her head, restraining a laugh. “But if you don’t strenuously object, we should all get some rest. We’re going back to California tomorrow.”

“Fuck off,” Derek threw a pillow at her. “I told you he was good.” He rolled over and did his best to ignore Sarah and John’s not-so-quiet laughter. He couldn't believe he'd lost that fight.

**********

"You tell your friend that he owes me more than $3,000,” Michael snapped, batting away the bandage that Fiona was trying to wrap around the wound on his upper arm, to glare at Sam. “He said that there was a civilian threat. Civilians don’t fight like that. That guy was military trained.”

"Vick isn't really a friend." Sam countered, studying Michael with a small grin from a safe distance. "He's just a guy I know."

"Why do we care about Hyberdyne anyway?” Fiona asked archly, slapping the bandage onto the bloody wound. "It’s so attached to the US military that’s it’s practically its own branch. I didn't realize we in the business of helping the government." She met Michael's eyes. "Or is this part of a plan for you to find out a way back in?"

“No, Fi.” Michael turned his glare to her. “It wasn’t part of any plan. It was a job.” His eyes cut across the room to pierce Sam again. “Supposedly an easy one.”

“Well, damn, Mike.” Sam shook his head apologetically. “I didn’t realize you were losing your touch.”

“Sam,” Michael started to stand up, but Fi shoved him roughly back down.

“Stay put, Michael. You’re lucky that bullet only grazed you. Don’t make things worse by kicking Sam’s ass.” She barely hid a smile. “If you could manage that.”

“Fiona,” Michael spoke through gritted teeth. “I am telling you that I haven’t lost my touch. That guy was…”

“Too much for you?” Fiona asked the question she knew Sam was thinking, but wasn’t brave enough to ask himself.

“Get away from me.” Michael snatched the bandages from her hand. “I can take care of myself.”

“Aye,” Fi’s accent was falling back into place as she struggled not to laugh. “I can see that.”

“I mean, really, Mike.” Sam made sure that the path between him and the door was clear. “It was a simple job. Keep an eye on the prize. Make sure the bad guys don’t get it.”

“The bad guy didn’t get it.” Michael retorted, his expression resembling a sulk so much that Sam laughed aloud. When Michael turned murderous eyes towards him, Sam stood up straighter, ready to run for the door.

“No. He didn’t,” Sam replied in a conciliatory tone.

“Because it was too banged up to be any use to anyone.” Fi finished, leaning back on her heels from where she had been kneeling in front of Michael to bandage his arm.

“We’re going to be lucky if Vick doesn’t demand his money back,” Sam pointed out, glumly. “From what you said, the server was pretty much trashed.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Fiona shrugged. “I checked into this company once you got the job. They don’t do anything except build computerized chess games. I don’t know of any terrorist groups who hate chess.”

“It’s a brave new world,” Michael sighed, reaching for the pain medications on his kitchen counter. “There’s bound to be a terrorist group who hates chess.”

“Whatever.” Sam shrugged. “It’s just too bad that you got beat up by a chess nerd.”

“Get out.” Michael gripped the Tylenol so hard the lid popped off. “Get out right now.”

“Now calm down,” Sam held up a placating hand, a grin stretching across his face. “Don’t do anything rash.”

“Aye.” Fiona moved to stand beside Sam, for once united with him against Michael in their unified desire to make fun of Michael at all costs. “We’d hate to see you reach for the checkers board.”

“Or Yahtzee.”

“OUT!” Michael shouted and with a last laugh, the two retreated to leave him to his recovery.

“Yes.” Fi opened the door and threw a mischievous grin at Sam. “We need to figure out how we will handle things from this point.”

Going to sit on the mattress on the floor, Michael groaned as his body protested the movement. Whoever that guy had been, he wasn’t a chess nerd - at least not a traditional one. He couldn't believe he'd lost that fight.