Title: Never Con a Con Man
By: karaokegal
Fandom: Dr. Who/Knot's Landing
Pairing: Jack Harkness/Greg Sumner (Stealth edit my ass!)
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 630

Jack sat watching, as Greg Sumner looked over the pages of the contract.

After all these years on the con, he still got a thrill from this part, knowing the mark had been roped in and the payoff was on the way. Hard to believe there’d once been a time where he was innocent enough to express shock at the idea of using his wrist strap and a knowledge of history as means of making some extra money. That was before he woke up in custody on Cloudbar 4, and only got out because his conviction that he’d lost two years of his life was deemed grounds for an insanity plea.

Now he was all about taking care of himself and finding out what the Agency had done to him. If he got some fun along the way, well Jack had never been one to turn down fun.

Like this deal with Greg Sumner. Southern California in 1989 suited him, both by morality and fashion. He liked the blondes, he liked the clothes, and he could hardly wait to get the signature that would put a major score in his account back home.

Sumner himself was fascinating. A rich, powerful man, just corrupt enough to be the perfect victim for a self-cleaning con. Handsome too, Jack thought, but that hadn’t part of this particular con. He’d decided that Greg Sumner had too many women swirling around him to be sexually vulnerable. His weakness was the desire for more money and the power he believed came with it.

All he had to do was sign that contract, and Jack could head back to London. He’d been careful not to spend too much time in the sun. He couldn’t risk showing a tan in the middle of the London Blitz.

What the hell was taking Sumner so long? Still looking at the contract, face resting against two long fingers on his cheek and one under his lower lip.

Jack noticed the smile breaking out on Sumner’s slightly bulldoggish face. He knew he had a good smile himself, but Greg Sumner’s teeth were formidable.

“Quite a deal you’ve put together here, Captain.”

“You’ll make millions.”

“I have millions and I intend to keep them.”

He’d put down the papers, taken off his glasses and Jack couldn’t stop thinking of a song that had a shark and a jack knife in it. Probably time to get the hell out of Dodge, or Los Angeles County, anyway. Safety was a teleport away, but Jack was intrigued. He’d been made, maybe days ago. Greg Sumner had been toying with him. Not many people could say that.

“If you’re not interested, I’ll have to take this great opportunity elsewhere.”

He stood up, but took his time, curious to hear what Sumner had to say.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t call my friends at the SEC, the FBI, the LAPD, and maybe the Governor’s office, just for good measure and tell them exactly what kind of a scam you’ve been trying to run on me?”

If Sumner expected Jack to offer money, he had another thing coming, but as he’d already pointed out, he had plenty of that. Jack only had one other asset. It was worth try and giving himself up to Greg Sumner would hardly be a defeat.

He met the predatory smile with one of his own, and raised his best insinuating eye-brow.

Sumner didn’t flinch. That was a good sign.

“Here? In my office? That’s rather bold.”

“I have a ship,” he replied. She was parked by Capitol Records building. It was the closest thing Big Ben he could find in Los Angeles.

“You mean a yacht?”

Jack rolled up his sleeve and reached over the desk for Sumner’s arm.

“Not exactly.”