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[personal profile] songbirdspeaks
Title: Heist
Fandom: Johnny's & Associates (Kanjani8, V6 & Arashi), Japanese Entertainment (Becky)
Characters: Aiba Masaki, Yokoyama You feat. Becky, Ninomiya Kazunari, the rest of Arashi, Okada Junichi
Pairings: established Aiba/Becky
Word count: 4150
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, established relationship and a life of crime~
Summary: Aiba and Yoko want out of life as cat burglars, so they take a job from old friend Okada Junichi. They don't plan for their old foe, former STU agent Ninomiya Kazunari, making an appearance.
Notes: written for [ profile] orenji_kiseki during [ profile] je_justfriends 2011. THIS IS A DIFFERENT VERSION THAN THE ONE POSTED DURING JEFF. (I originally wrote this, then realized my recipient wanted no explicit het, so I rewrote portions, but this is the version I ~envisioned, so!)

When you've been partners for ten years--even partners in crime, as it stands--you find a rhythm.

Supposedly, anyway. Even after ten freaking years Aiba Masaki is marching along to some beat of his own and Yoko's two steps behind.

The job they're on is simple, as things go. Snatching up a special edition Rolex from a guy's jewelry box is nothing, and even Yokoyama Yuu, worrier extraordinaire, has been hard pressed to find anything to whine about. Which of course is exactly the time Aiba chooses to announce, "so I'm thinking we should talk to that government agent about that consulting deal they offered us."

Yoko's in the middle of disabling the security cameras outside, his head bent over his laptop. His head snaps up, his eyes wide. "WHAT?!" he squawks, like a gunshot in the relative silence of the mansion.

"Yokocho, too loud," Aiba hushes, distracted picking a lock, "I just think it's about time we went legit, is all."

"Why would you ever think that we are professional cat burglars," Yoko hisses, his voice low but demanding, "just... WHAT THE HELL."

"Well, Yoko, you're getting on in years, and jewelry theft doesn't exactly have a pension," Aiba begins, and yelps when Yoko reaches back to smack him, "...and my mom asked me if I was ever going to make Becky-chan an honest woman."

Of course. Aiba's long-term girlfriend has always been tentatively supportive of their particular 'profession'. Both of them felt bad for worrying her.

"And she won't marry you until you quit, I remember," Yoko answers, then continues, "we'll talk about this when we get home, camera are down in three... two... go."


Becky wakes up early the next morning, rolling over to slide into the curve of Aiba's body, and promptly spazzes out when she realizes she's alone in the bed.

"What the hell?!" she squawks, and reaches around for her glasses. She shoved them on her face, legitimately tumbling out of the bed and stumbling out of the bedroom.

She relaxes. Aiba and Yoko are asleep in a heap on the floor in front of the couch, Aiba's obnoxious snoring echoing against Yoko's foot (the toes of which are helpfully shoved nearly up Aiba's nostrils--she'll have to consider that solution). Becky puts her hands to her hips, thinking, and nods to herself. If she has to be awake, they do.

"Oi," she shouts, and poked at Aiba's back with her toe.

"Huhhh," Aiba groans, but it's Yoko who stirs.

"how do you want your eggs?" she asks, and there's a chorus of 'scrambled!' before the snoring starts up again.

"If I come back to find you two lazyasses still asleep I'm dumping the orange juice on you," she threatens, a smile spreading across her face anyway.


"So, wait, your friend the government agent offered the deal to somebody else and they never told us?!" Yoko demands when they're locked up in his sound-proofed apartment three days later.

Aiba has the decency to look sheepish. "Well, we didn't exactly tell them 'sure, let's do it'," he answers, "and Hina-chan said they needed somebody as soon as possible, so..."

Yoko sighs, rubbing at his temples. "This is a disaster," he informs Aiba.

Aiba nods, and goes back to poking at his store-bought convenience store ramen. "So what now?" he asks.

Yoko grins. He's been thinking. "We've got an offer from Okada," he says, as he leans back in his chair to tug the binder on the counter behind him into his lap, "but it's... weird."

"Weird as in aliens or ninjas?" Aiba asks, grinning widely.

"Weird as in neither," Yoko answers, rolling his eyes. He flips through the binder--it looks like a recipe book, from the outside, but behind a recipe for tonkatsu is a single piece of white paper with a small typed list in the center. He slides it across the table for Aiba to look at. It's written in the cipher they've used for years, now, so it only takes Aiba a glance to read it over.

"Three jobs, one day, with drop off at the third place," he summarizes, "seems normal, but these locations!"

Yoko nods, pulling the paper back. "We've got some planning to do," he agrees,
"but if we're going to get set up for life--and if the quote Okada sent me has anything to say about it, it can, we don't have much choice."

It takes Aiba a minute to get what Yoko is saying, and he grins, widely. "Yokocho," he says, fondly, "you do care about my mom~"

Yoko throws his empty ramen cup at him. "Of course I do, you ass, she feeds me. Ow, hey, don't throw--ow! Books hurt!"


Aiba's prepping the communicators while Yoko gets dressed. "Do you have a mission summary for me?" he asks, "I forgot to ask..."

"Do you listen to anything I tell you?" Yoko grouses from the bathroom. Then he sighs. "We're going to a press showing of the home of Matsumoto Jun, the world's foremost Michael Jackson memorabilia collector. You're the cameraman, Kazama Masamune. I've already set up a virus in his security systems--the whole thing will go out for about thirty seconds at exactly 11:30. You'll steal the target and I'll distract people."

"The target is a t-shirt, right?" Aiba asks, going over what else he remembers, "...purple?"

"Pink," Yoko corrects, "it's signed. Supposedly his favorite piece, god only knows why. The getaway car'll be parked outside the garden in the back. The blue towncar."

"Blue towncar, pink t-shirt," Aiba summarizes, "...what's your distraction plan?"

The bathroom door opens, and Yoko finally emerges, smiling. "Kitayama Yuuko has a surprise for Matsumoto-san," he says, straightening his skirt.

Then Aiba laughs at him, and Yoko chases him across the apartment with a knife.


Aiba's smiling and nodding along as the third aging lady of the morning tells him he'd look lovely in her Michael Jackson replica outfit (what exactly is it about him that attracts these kind of people, anyway?) when Yoko makes his grand debut. It's 11:25, as they agreed, and in the fuss an... extremely tall woman in an extremely short black dress makes, Aiba ducks out of view. He has to hold back a snigger when Yoko's plan makes itself known--"Jun-kun belongs with me, he told me so!" ringing through the entire showcase hall is really obvious. Aiba can see Matsumoto's back from here, and the man looks tense and shell-shocked. Yoko presses his advantage, loudly reminding him of 'all the time we've spent together, alone with your lovely Michael Jackson dolls!'

Aiba has to be really careful not to fall over laughing when Yoko's 'girlish' giggling turns predatory. He ducks around a row of costume replicas in glass cases, and finally, at the end of the hall, is the pink signed t-shirt. It's in a frame, belted by useless security ropes. Yoko said Aiba has thirty seconds to tug the frame off the wall and get out of the hall through the side entrance. Aiba tugs his gloves on as his watch hits 11:29--thirty seconds is plenty of time.

His watch ticks up toward 11:30, and Yoko's talking gets louder and more insistent. The time hits 11:30, and Aiba can't hear anything any more, hopping over a glass case and getting his hands around the bottom of the frame. By the time he gets the damn thing off the wall and tucked under his arm, the time is getting close--he's got five seconds to slide through the security door and get out of here.

He makes it, but just barely.

"I'm out," he whispers into his communicator, and then slides the frame onto the desk to work the damn thing open. It's too big to carry comfortably, and he has to climb a fence.

He can hear the sounds of Yoko getting thrown out of the Matsumoto residence, and Yoko's low 'fuck you guys this dress was new' makes Aiba snort. "I'm starting up the car," Yoko manages into his comm, precisely at the moment when the frame pops out of place.

Aiba cheers, but quietly, and then he folds the shirt up to slide into the bottom of his camera bag. "Meet you in five," he sing-songs, and walks across the room. He wiggles the side entrance doorknob--locked. Of course. Well, Aiba's done worse, he figures, and slides a lock pick into his palm.

Later, he looks back and decides that getting out of the house itself is so easy because everything else is such a pain.

"Yokocho, why's the car not on?" he asks, when he finds Yoko sitting in the unmoving blue towncar.

Yoko responds by popping the hood; Aiba fiddles with the catch. He freezes.

"Good luck getting away. Love, Nino-chan." The note is attached to one of the battery cables--the battery's missing.

"Why... didn't Ninomiya leave the STU?" Aiba asks, plucking the note from the engine and looking at it.

"More importantly, how did he know this was our car?" Yoko asks, instead, then continues, "we'll worry about that later. Is the spare battery in the trunk, still?"

Aiba scratches his chin, thinking. "I think so," he says, which is exactly the moment when they hear the hubbub in Matsumoto's garden.

"Shit," Yoko says, and pops the trunk before Aiba passes him the camera bag to go digging through the trunk, "let's go, let's go--"

"We're good," Aiba declares, and winces when he hits his head on the trunk door. "Ow," he manages, as he lopes around the car to put the new battery in.

"Try it," he tells Yoko, who turns the key. The engine stutters to life after a moment of terror, and Aiba slams the hood closed as he hops into the passenger seat.


"That could have gone better," Aiba says, when they're safely away from Matsumoto's neighborhood.

Yoko's fingers are tight around the wheel of the towncar. "How the hell--he quit, right? He's in the private sector now, right? He only works with big-name clients, right?"

"That's what we heard," Aiba reassures Yoko. Ninomiya Kazunari of the Special Tactics Unit was their only consistent foe for years and years, a regular annoyance looking to foil their plots. He'd been successful more often than not, which made him Yoko's least favorite person on the face of the planet. They'd had a damn party for his retirement, sent him a gift and everything! They hadn't crossed paths with Ninomiya in nearly two years, Nino's tendency to work for big-name corporations or museums putting him in a different league than Yoko and Aiba's preference for private collections.

Finding him in the game now, right before they can both retire, is the worst. Ever.

"Do you have the plans for the next place?" Yoko asks. As Aiba digs them out of the bag at his feet, Yoko pulls onto the highway.

“Sakurai Sho’s mansion has a special section for the jewelry in the center of the complex,” Aiba says, and squawks when Yoko swerves in the middle of smacking him.

“We’re not going in for the jewelry, we’re looking for his freaking laptop,” Yoko snaps, “which is in his study. On the second floor. Any of this ringing a bell?”

“I was just testing you,” Aiba says, with a wide grin, and flips to the second page of plans, “well, all right, his study is here... ah! The skylight in the third floor bedroom!”

“That means climbing, doesn’t it. I hate climbing.”

“At least you remembered to bring pants to change into this time?”

“Shut up, Aiba.”


“Aiba, that’s my hand you’re standing on.”

“Well excuse me, you’re the one who put your hand where it doesn’t belong!”

“Just... shut up and move.”

“So noisy,” Aiba groans, good-naturedly, and hauls himself onto the roof.

“It’s hot up here,” he comments to Yoko, wiping sweat from his brow.

“It’s one in the afternoon and we’re on the roof of a three story building, of course it’s hot,” Yoko points out as he shoves his fairly massive bag of tools on the roof. Aiba grabs hold of the heavy backpack as Yoko hauls himself onto the roof. “Now where’s this skylight?”

Aiba’s already halfway across the complex roof, ignoring him, and Yoko curses as he scrambles to follow.

“Found it,” Aiba declares, and they both eye the massive sectioned window for a minute.

“There’s no way,” Yoko says, groaning, and Aiba bends to fiddle with the frame.

“Wait,” Aiba says, “there’s--the glass in this frame is loose. Look, we can wiggle it out a little!”

“Give me the cutter, there’s a hinge here I can cut through,” Yoko says, quietly.

Aiba hands it off carefully--neither of them should really be trusted with power tools, honestly--and watches as Yoko turns the deceptively small tool on. The saw cuts through the melted-over hinge like a warm knife through butter, and soon enough they’re swinging it open.

Aiba’s already hooking up his grappling hook to the harness at his waist by the time Yoko has the tool away. “Aren’t you glad I made you diet?” he teases Yoko, who scowls at him.

“Shut up, I wasn’t that fat,” he says, “...and the opening’s not that small, what the hell.”

“Whatever you say,” Aiba answers, airily, and settles the other end of the magnetized hook to the frame of the window. “Shall we?”

“One at a time,” Yoko agrees.

Aiba likes using their higher tech tools, now and then. Besides Yoko’s hacking tools, they’re a remarkably old-school operation. The motorized hook lowering him to the floor is a marked improvement over the old system, because Aiba always misjudged the distance to the floor and ended up crashing on his ass. Aiba lets the clip do the work now, and tilts his head to Sakurai Sho’s bedroom. It’s a large, vaulted thing, covered in awards for outstanding newcasting and remarkably pretentious cityscapes in frames.

Aiba figures at least the decor is less eye-searing than rock star Nagase Tomoya’s. Aiba’s not exactly a classy guy himself, but even he isn’t sure about wallpapering his own bedroom with naked pictures of himself.

Aiba touches down just in time to hear the tell-tale sound of people walking up the stairs; he looks up at Yoko, eyes wide, and lifts his open hand in their usual ‘freeze’ gesture.

More talking--it’s definitely getting closer. Aiba unclips the hook as Yoko hauls it up and tries to get the window closed. Aiba looks around wildly for a place to hide--the bed. Aiba is off like a shot, and crawls under the bed on his hands and knees, his breath hammering in his lungs.He hopes no one’s going to be jumping on it, or anything--it’s a tight fit.

Yoko’s voice is in his ear, suddenly. ”I’m going to see if I can’t hack the cameras instead,” he whispers, and Yoko’s really glad he’s wearing a throat mic, because he can quietly hum in agreement and Yoko will get it.

The door to the bedroom squeaks when it opens--Aiba files that information away for later.

“I’m telling you, Sho-chan, you need to trust me.”

Aiba would know that voice anywhere.

“Nino, no offense or anything but you’re sure we can’t get, like, actual cops in here, or something?”

“Yes, I’m sure, there isn’t any actual crime going on. Yet, I mean. What do you want me to tell them, ‘we think someone’s going to break in and steal priceless jewlery?”

Nino’s voice is getting closer. Aiba grunts when Nino flops right on the bed. Nino shifts around, humming obnoxiously, and Aiba holds his breath to resist snapping at Nino to get the hell off of him.

“Can’t you... turn the security on high, or something?”

“I already did,” Nino answers, sighing, “what do you want me to do? The cameras aren’t showing anything, none of the proximity alarms have gone off... for all we know that tip was bullshit and you’re raising your blood pressure over nothing.”

“Why did I hire you, again?”

“I’m your childhood friend who knows more about security systems than anybody you know. And I’m cute~”

“You’re the worst ever. Come on, show me the security camera feeds again.”

“Yeah, yeah, your highness,” Nino grumbles as he rolls off the bed, crushing Aiba a little in the process.“Did you remember to grab the keycard this time?”

They leave together; the door clicks closed, and Aiba lets his lungs fill back up with sweet, sweet oxygen for a long moment before he scrambles out from under the bed.

“They think we’re going after the jewelry,” he whispers into his communicator.

“Lucky us,” Yoko answers, “get in and get out. Now. The study is downstairs, third door on the right. There are cameras at the corners of all of the hallways, I’m hacking them now.”

Aiba gulps. “Aye aye,” he manages, and crosses the room. He turns the doorknob slowly and tugs the door open, just a little. The hinges squeal, quietly--Aiba freezes and takes a deep breath. Then he pulls it open--the sharp sound of the squeak is like a shock, but Aiba hurries through the door and manages to get it closed without slamming it.

”You need to move, cleaning crew coming toward you.”

Aiba goes, ducking when Yoko tells him to drop down and top-toeing around the stair banister. “Go in... two... one... now.”

Aiba races down the stairs as quickly--and quietly--as he can. When he makes it to the end of the stairs, he hears the sound of people talking--he slides to a stop and ducks behind the banister. “Yokocho, anything?”

“Wait for a minute, they’re--okay, they’re going away from you. Stand up--slowly--and walk behind them--slowly! Slower, Aiba, I can’t erase you if you’re moving too fast. Okay, stop. Don’t. Move. Door’s on your right--go.”

Aiba takes a deep breath--hopefully this door doesn’t squeak like the--oh thank god. Aiba presses the door closed, tightly, and takes a deep breath, his head ducked down.

“I’m in,” he whispers, “but we have a problem.”

”What kind of problem?”

“A ‘there’s a camera in this room’ kind of problem,” Aiba says, “Yokocho, it’s pointed right at me. Motion sensor.”


“Where are you?”

”Hidden on the roof, I’m trying to find the--ah, there’s the loophole--damn it. Nino did this, it’s on an entirely secondary network, I need to--hide your face, I guess, and sit tight, I’m trying to bring the whole thing down.”

Aiba sits down, gloves hands pressed over his face, and settles in to wait. "Yokocho, hurry," he murmurs.

"I am. Believe me, I am. Okay. Okay, I think it's off--try moving?"

Aiba wiggles back to his feet and sways back and forth--the camera in the corner of the room stays still. "I... yeah, I think you got it."

"Of course I did. Now get to it!"

"Yeah, yeah, quiet down," Aiba grumbles, and ducks down to move paperwork and unplug the laptop, "just the whole laptop, right? Nothing else?"

"Just the laptop. Apparently."

"So shall I hop out a window and meet you back at the car?"

"Hop out the--Aiba, don't."

"How else do you want me to go?! Are the rest of the systems still down?"

Well... no. But..."

"It's only the second floor, don't worry so much. See you on the flipside~"

There's a windowed enclave along the side of the mansion--Aiba knocks the study door open with his hip and takes off at full speed. There are shouts of alarm around him--he ignores them and kicks the windows open. A hop, a skip and a jump later (well, figuratively) Aiba finds himself climbing down a tree with a laptop strapped to his chest.


"Sorry, Nino-chan, places to be!" he calls back, on reflex.

"Oh my god it's you assholes?!"

"That's so cruel~ Nino-chan is so mean~"

"You're a thief! I don't have to be nice to you!"

Aiba turns around to offer Nino a peace sign and a grin, and then hops off the tall fence to the ground below.


"Ah, Yokocho, nice timing," Aiba compliments, and slides into the passenger seat of the towncar. "...did you fall off the roof?"

Yoko scowls at him. "No, I didn't," he answers.

"Really? Because there's a lot of grass in your hair..."

"Shut up, Aiba."


Night-time, and they're sitting together in the car staring at the laptop and folded up t-shirt. "So we just... put them on the back desk?" Yoko asks.

Aiba shows Yoko the text message. "That's what it says, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Has Okada ever screwed us over before?"

"No, but..."

"Then chill out! Let's get to it. What do their systems look like?"

"Nothing, really. Ohno Satoshi's gallery is famous for being, like, the least safe art gallery of all time."

"So we just... unlock the place and waltz in?"

"Not quite, it's faster to go around back. There's an alarm system, apparently, but I can hack that damn thing in my sleep."

Aiba grabs the t-shirt, rolling it up and dropping it into the empty ziplock bag on his thigh. "You take Sakurai-san's laptop, I'll grab the t-shirt, let's get to it?"

Yoko nods, and kills the engine. He grabs the laptop one-handed and balances it against his hip.

"Let's get retired," Aiba says, as he joins Yoko on their seemingly lesiurely stroll down the alley behind the darkened art gallery.

Yoko snorts. "We've been doing this a while," he comments, pleasantly.

"A long while," Aiba agrees.

"Where should we go after this? Maybe I'll go to Costa Rica..."

"Australia! I want to meet a kangaroo."

"A kangaroo? Your girlfriend is waiting at home, but you want to go to Australia and meet a kangaroo."


"You're an idiot."

"And you looooove me~"

"Quiet down, we need to get this done and get out of here."

Aiba settles into quiet as Yoko hacks the security keypad. "Get on unlocking that?" Yoko hisses, tilting his head toward the lock on the small metal door.

Aiba grins, and slides a lockpick into his palm. He loves picking locks, honestly--it's fun. Sometimes he picks the locks on the bathroom while Yoko's in it, just because of the thrill. (Yoko appreciates the experience a lot less, but Yoko appreciates very little of the things Aiba finds fun, so it's not a big deal.)

"And we're good to go. You?"

Aiba grins, and pulls the door open. "Who do you think you're talking to?" he asks.

The lights are off in the gallery; they both creep forward behind picture frames and weird sculptures. The back desk seems as though it doubles as a work table, covered in paint and paper supplies. Yoko sweeps a pallete out of the way and sets the laptop down, carefully. Just as Aiba drops the folded up t-shirt in the ziploc bag atop it, the lights in the place all go up. Aiba and Yoko both react instinctively, dropping to their knees and sharing a look.

"What the fuck," Yoko manages.

"Hey guys~"

"What the fuck," Yoko repeats, "Okada, what..."

Okada grins at them from behind a display of pictures. "Welcome to your retirement party, boys," he says, and nods his head toward the lobby.

"Why the hell is he here?!"

"That's no way to greet the guy who got you guys a real job," Ninomiya says, sounding hurt.

"Say goodbye to a life of crime and hello to Interpol, boys," Okada says, with a wide smile, "Ninomiya's recommendation--and mine, of course--have got you boys a real job."

" want us to be spies. with Interpol. After living as cat burglars. For ten years."

"Yoko, you seem like you're having trouble believing me," Okada says, "have I ever screwed you?"

"No," Yoko answers, sullenly.

"Well then calm down! Aiba, call your girl and tell her you have a big kid job. Training starts in the morning."

"Wait wait wait wait wait," Yoko manages, "what about... these jobs. Did they... did they mean anything?"

"Of course they did," Okada answers, with a shrug, "it was a test. See if you could out-smart Ninomiya. He's my smartest pupil, you know, and he knows how you think--but you boys got him. Over and over and over again! So we figure anyone that smart needs to be working for us, not for the criminal underworld."

"I don't know if I'd say we work for any kind of criminal underworld," Yoko protests, "we're just a pair of idiots who get stuff done."

"Exactly the kind of people I need," Okada says, and claps them both on the shoulders. "What do you say? Retirement plan is great..."

"Get us a job in Australia and we're in," Yoko answers, "...Aiba wants to marry a kangaroo."

(Becky doesn't appreciate that joke, when Yoko tells it that night. Aiba appreciates the smacking she gives Yoko, though.)


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April 2012

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