~o~O~o~

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

So when Rupert finds himself urgently in need of some money, he has no choice but to get involved with roommate, Marshall's, law breaking scheme.

Are the pair going to get a little more than they bargained for, though?

"Oh god." I held on to the edges of my deckchair tightly as Marshall stepped into our grotty room.

"A standard 'hello' would suffice you know, Rupert."

"Yeah... goodbye." I tried to make a dash for the door but was blocked by the muscular right-arm of my roommate.

"What seems to be the problem, buddy?"

"I know you've got some crazy plan and I don't want in on it."

"Oh come on Rupert, what makes you think that?"

"I can literally see dollar signs in your eyes."

Marshall paused momentarily, wagging his finger in thought, "Ok yeah maybe I have a little idea."

I groaned. Marshall was always coming up with get-rich-quick schemes to try and help us pay off our university fees and they always ended in me getting in trouble.

"I'm sorry Marsh, but last time I got caught up in one of your 'plans' those ninjas really beat the living shit out of me. I can't even watch Rush Hour 3 without crying myself into a short-lived coma any more."

"Wow..."

"Yeah, so... just leave me out of it, ok?" I made another move for the door, "I'm gonna go get something to eat, do you want in?"

"No I...." Marshall scratched his back, frowning - and I knew what that meant....
The little bastard was going to try and guilt me into helping him with his scheme, but I wasn't going to succumb to his pressure....

"I guess I'll just be finding someone else who wants to earn themselves  £500,000 then."

"500 grand!?"

"Yeah I mean, I'm sure there's loads of other lads on campus who'd want in on it so-"

"I'm in."

Marshall slammed a large roll of paper down on my desk.

I looked up, "What's this?"

"Blueprints man."

Yeah, Marshall really did take these schemes awfully serious and after a couple days had gone by since I hastily agreed to help him out I was hoping he'd just forgotten about the whole thing...

"This is Dawson Manor" Marshall spoke whilst pointing at his neatly drawn handywork, "home of the bazillionaire Dawson family."

...Obviously not, then.

"Hey I know these guys, they co-own Dawson & Brooke Bank. They're fucking loaded!"

"Exactly, hence why I said bazillionaires!"

"Wow I- hey wait a minute.." I slammed my hands down on the table, "You're not proposing we rob these people, are you?"

"Well..."

"Marsh, you know my rule! No stealing! I'm open to all your other crazy schemes, but I have to draw a line somewhere."

"Oh come on man, a million smackaroos is nothing to these people."

"No. Everytime I help you out, I get in trouble, and I don't want it to be with the law this time!"

"Yeah ok dude, I understand.... You still up for that pizza?"

I smiled, nodded, and grabbed my jacket without any further word.

Several weeks had passed and I was glad Marshall had quit bugging me about the whole robbing the Dawsons thing. I was back concentrating on my studies and chilling with my roommate again.

Until one Sunday afternoon we were playing video games when Marshall suddenly broke down into tears.

"Woah, what's the matter man?" I put my arm round his shoulder and tapped lightly, "You're not that bad, I'm just pretty good at this game that's all."

"It's not about the game you dick."

I took my arm away from the distraught teen and slid away a few inches. "W...well...w....what's wrong then?"

"I'm sorry to shout at you man it's just... my quarterly fees are due next Sunday and I haven't got anywhere near enough money to pay it off, let alone the other two I'm still yet to pay."

"Oh.... will they allow you another extension?"

"Not this time Rupert, I'm gonna get kicked out if I don't pay up."

"Damn..." I looked around the room awkwardly, "How much do you owe?"

Marshall put his head in his arms, ".... ten thousand."

"Shit."

After hours of comforting my helpless friend, and re-assuring him all will be ok, we decided to call it a day. After all, we did have lectures tomorrow.

"Mr. Weir..."

I looked up frightened from my desk, "Yes Sir?"

I never liked to be pointed out in class, I preferred to keep to myself and avoid getting any attention.

"Come to my office at 1 this afternoon, we need to discuss something."

"Oh ummm of course, yes sir." I slid down on my chair slightly, this could never be good.

"Mr. Weir, are you aware you are yet to pay your fees for the accademic year so far?"

"No sir, I have, I payed them all off on time obeying the deadlines accordingly, Sir."

"Don't Bullshit me Mr. Weir, you haven't paid a single penny."

"No Sir, I have, I REALLY have!"

"THE UNIVERSITY DOES NOT MAKE MISTAKES MR WEIR! NOW IF I WERE YOU, I'D MAKE SURE I'D PAY ALL THREE OF THE FEES BY SUNDAY OR ELSE YOU CAN CONSIDER YOUR ASS KICKED OUT OF THIS UNIVERSITY FOR GOOD!"

"But Sir I-"

"NO BUTS! YOU HAVE 6 DAYS TO BRING ME MY 25 GRAND."

"25 grand!? It should only be 10 sir."

"You're forgetting interest Mr. Weir, now.." He opened the door and pointed through to the hallway, "Run along."

I couldn't believe it. No doubt Mr. Hartson had something against me. He'd been picking on me since day one and now I had to come up with an extra 25,000 inside a week. University sucks, and I knew there was only one way I could get that money in time....

"Tell me about your plan then."

"What plan?" Marshall attempted to keep a straight face.

"You know what I mean now come on, spill the beans."

Marshall grinned and nodded his head, "Now that's what I'm talking about!"

"Ok so.... go over the plan again."

"Rupert it's simple mate, it's room #105, we ask for 'Mr. Foster' and he'll give us the fake IDs and then we'll take it from there!"

"Ok...."

Marshall looked up, "Here we are.... now, before I knock, are you sure you wanna go through with this?"

I nodded unsurely.

"Because the moment this door opens, there's no turning back."

"Just do it man, before I change my mind."

We both took a deep breath, before Marshall reached his arm out.

---

"Who goes there!?" Came an unusual, presumably foreign, accent.

"We're here to see...." Marshall leaned up close to the eye-hole, "Mr. Foster."

"Ohhhh Mr. Foster, come in come in!" He opened the door and ushered for us to follow him through the mess that was his living room.
Piled up newspapers, burger wrappers, old food, cats everywhere, a proper psychos house. I gulped as he lead us down to a basement.

"Mr. Foster, two young men here to see you." The unusal man shouted down into the darkness before stuttering back into the living area, closing the door behind him.

A series of lights began to flicker on in sequence, revealing a room resembling an office, although I knew better.

"Arrr gentlemen. Very nice to ah see you" A balding, yet bearded fellow approached us with his hands held tightly together before his chest.

He seemed nice enough. But once again I knew better, and was ready to leg it at the first sign of danger.

"H...h...hello." Marshall spoke whilst looking down at the ground. "We're here for our IDs."

"Oh, of course, and you must be ah Mr. Daley."

"Yes."

"And I... I'm sorry who's this?"

"This is my buddy Rupert I was telling you about. He's here for an ID too."

"Oh I, I see... could I.... have a word with you in ah private Mr. Daley, we could have a ah slight problem."

"Ummm sure..." Marshall looked unsettled, as did I.

I watched as the elderly man dragged Marshall into a back room. I feared the worse.

Marshall and Mr. Foster returned from the room a few minutes later, both walking with an awkward stance.

"Ummmm... we've got a slight problem with the IDs Rupert." Marshall said, whilst scratching his head and frowning.

"Errrr let me explain Mr. Daley, you see Mr. ah Weir is it?"

I nodded.

"I errrr how do I put this ummmm...."

"He thought I was bringing a chick, dude." Marshall interrupted.

"Oh...." I said, unsure of what to make of the scenario.

"Errrr yes.." Mr. Foster took over again, "I thought your name was Ru Paul."

"Ru Paul...?"

"Ah... yes."

"Isn't that that tranny model?" I asked, still as confused as ever.

"Errrr I whatever, I just thought I was making one man ID and one female ID."

His gibberish, and appalling English were starting to frustrate me.

"Basically mate.." Marshall interrupted again, "You're gonna have to pose as..." he looked at the ID; "Linda Brooke."

I stood with my mouth gawping, "Ummmm.... no."

Mr. Foster turned to Marshall panicky, "I ummmm why ever not Mr. Weir?"

"Just.... no. Just, make me another ID!"

"Ah no can do Mr. Weir, I only have two possible ID for this party and these ID are for long-lost relatives of Brooke family, Harold and Linda."

"Well.... I'm sorry Marshall, you're gonna have to do it on your own mate. I can't go there with a chick's ID, they'll catch me out in no time."

Marshall whimpered, "But it's a two-man operation Rupert, I need you. We can make you look like a chick so they wont catch you out no problem, right Fozzy?"

Mr. Foster came out of his daydream and nodded his head wearily.

I mumbled some abusive words under my breath.

"Plus... you said before I knocked on the door that you were in this 'till the end."

"But dude I..."

"Come on, just one evening in a wig and a dress, we'll get the money and dash out of there in no time."

"I jus.."

"Just think about that  £500,000 Rupert, and you need it to stay in University."

I guess I had no choice.

"Ah see you make pretty lady, Miss Weir."

I stood facing a full-length mirror wearing uncomfortably high-heels, an uncomfortably revealing dress, and an uncomfortably long brown wig, tied up in a pony tail. Not to mention all the uncomfortable makeup and jewelry I had on.

"I look like a fucking.... well I look like a man in a wig and a dress." I snarled.

"No man, you look.... you look good."

I looked over to Marshall frowning, "Just.... don't man."

"No, I'm serious you look very ummm.... nice, hey Fozzy you got that camera ready yet?" Marshall quickly changed the subject when he saw that his compliments had angered me.

"Just a ah minute Sir, get yourselves ah ready I'll be few moments."

Marshall put a green woolly jumper on over his suit and handed me a black jacket.

"What's this for?" I asked.

"It's so we're not wearing our ummmm... 'formal' clothes, on our photo IDs. We don't want to arouse any suspicion."

"Okay, here are your IDs, all nice and shiny." Mr. Foster handed us the small cards with shaky hands.

We both thanked him, though be it rather begrudgingly before heading towards the door.

"And ah remember.." Mr. Foster called after us, "Bring me my money no matter what, I ah don't care if you don't get the ah million pounds I want it either way. I will send men after you if you don't!"

We all laughed awkwardly.

"Ahahaha, but no seriously make sure you ah bring me my fucking money. Show them to the ah exit Pablo!"

Pablo, the guy who let us into the appartment in the fist place ushered us back through the post-apocalyptic warzone.

I could feel his eyes watching my shaved legs and wiggling bottom as I strutted awkwardly in my heels. It was not nice to be looked at in such a way and by such a creepy individual. I had an idea it was going to be a long night.

It was Friday night. The night of the Dawson & Brooke and Friends get-together at the Dawson manor. And me as; 'Linda' and Marshall as 'Harrold' found ourselves in the back of a stretched-limo.

I whispered into Marshalls ear, "How are we affording this?"

"I used my last few quid on it, I mean we need to arrive in style so as not to seem out of place at a party like this, you know?"

Yet again, I simply nodded in agreement.

Before long, we had pulled up to the gates of the Dawson manor.

Marshall grabbed me by my bare shoulders and asked if I remembered the plan.

"I..."

"Fuck. Okay let me go through it again quickly. We both mingle with the guests and hosts for a while, and yes we're long-lost relatives so there are going to be loads of hugs and shit but we'll TRY and get it out of the way as soon and as quick as possible okay?"

"Yeah, okay..."

"And you can just excuse yourself at one point, whilst I continue mingling yes?

"Yeah..."

"Then you find one of the Dawson daughters, flirt with them a- Oh.... best make it ummm one of the sons..."

I sighed.

"Yeah, I'm sorry man but this'll all be over with soon. Ok, flirt with him a little, get him to show you around the house, find where the money is. Rich people generally like to show it off a little if it's with people they trust like a member of the Brooke family which... for the night, you are!"

I continued nodding throughout to show my understanding.

"Ok, then when you know where it is... come find me, and I'll crack the code to it with my 'expertise' whilst you mingle with the guests some more yes?"

"Yes." I mirrored him.

"Alright then we'll meet here by the gates, and they won't even notice the money's gone. Because a million is just so little to them."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Positive." He smiled at me in a way I had never seen him do so before. I even managed to force a weak smile back before the chauffeur opened the door to let us out. I said a few prayers as we walked up to the manor. I just wanted this night to end, and soon.

We walked up to a reception that had been set up in front of the manor.

Marshall spoke for the both of us, "Hi it's Harold and Linda Brooke."

"Oh my!" The receptionist smiled, "We weren't expecting you two, but have been saving room for you incase you ever decided to come back!" he joked.

Marshall laughed along with him and I let out a faint giggle.

Rich people humour sucks.

"So... can I see some ID Mr & Miss Brooke, it's just regulations, you know how it is."

"Oh yes, certainly." We handed him our fake IDs and I once again started praying that all went well. It did.

"Okay yeah these are fine, have a wonderful evening." The handsome young man smiled and waved us through to the manor.

Wait. I didn't just call him handsome, did I....?

The plan had gone perfectly so far. We mingled with the guests and made up stories of what we had both been up to for the past few years before I excused myself to go find one of Dawson sons. Which I did successfully.
I then flirted well with him, admittedly. Before getting him to give me a tour of the house. He complimented my hair and that several times and by the end of the tour we were holding hands and getting along surprisingly well.

Disturbingly well.

Anyway, sure enough the rich fucker showed off some big vault with the money in and I went to find Marshall before filling in for him on the mingling side of things.

And that's where everything went wrong.

Marshall was walking from the garden to the house, where the vault was located, before he was stopped by a familiar face.

"Hello Mr. Daley!"

Marshall turned to his right to find Mr. Hartson waving at him.

"I didn't know you mingled with this sort of crowd ummm Marshall is it?"

"I... I think you have me mistaken for someone else ummmm sir..."

Mr. Hartson put his arm around Marshall and started laughing, "Hahaha you young one's crack me up sometimes, say who's that fine Brunette you were talking to just now?"

"Oh that's... I've got to go I...."

"Oh right, seeya Marshall!"

"I'm not Marshall! I'm Harold, Harold Brooke."

"Yeah, sure you are, make sure I get that money by Sunday!"

Marshall looked back at Mr. Hartson, shrugged, and looked around to make sure no-one was near. Thankfully, it seemed no-one had overheard their little conversation.

"Excuse me....?"

"SHIT!" Marshall dropped his stethoscope and turned around, quivering.

"What are you doing?"

It was the Dawson son I had been with earlier, Stephen.

"I am just ummm.... listening to your..... vault..."

"Really?" Stephen folded his arms. "You're going to go with THAT?"

Marshall shuffled awkwardly on the spot.

"You are in DEEP trouble, my friend."

"Linda..."

"I turned around to find a middle aged woman smiling at me."

"Oh hi..." I tried to speak giddily.

"I'd like you to meet someone." That's when another middle aged lady, slightly chubbier this time, rolled up with an elderly lady in a wheelchair.

"This is your mother, Linda."

I hesitated.

"Oh we best leave them to get re-acquainted!" The two women grinned and frolicked off elsewhere.

"I...I...." I couldn't string a sentence together.

"You're not my daughter."

"I....I.... of course I am I.."

"I know my own daughter. Even if I have not seen her for so long. And you, missy, are not her!"

"I...I...."

"IMPOSTOR! IMPOSTOR!" She started screaming at the top of her voice.

I walked over to a silhouette by the gates of the manor shaking from the cold. 'Please let this be Marshall, please please PLEASE!'

"Linda!" The silhouette shouted over to me.

At first I was worried because they called me Linda, but I instantly recognised it as Marshall's voice so I ran over to him.

We collided in a massive hug. I spoke into his ear, "I came so close to being busted Marsh, I met Linda's Mum and she almost gave me away but for the fact that people disregarded her claims as being senile."

"Wow.." He talked in my ear also, as we were still wrapped in eachother's embrace, "That Dawson son you were with earlier caught me trying to break into the vault."

"Oh my god!" I exclaimed, "How did you get away with it?"

"He saw me with you earlier and well... he kind of made me give him your number..."

"You what!?"

"Look I'm sorry but I had no choice!"

"Did you at least give him a fake number?"

"No he made me show it to him on my phone to prove it was the right one. I only had time to change your name to Linda Brooke on it, so as not to give us away."

"Great.... now I've got some creepers number. Plus, he knows you stole the money, what if he blackmails us!?"

"Oh I'm sure he'll just forget about it.... and besides.." Marshall tapped his left pocket, "At least we've got our million pounds!"

I smiled, "Yeah I guess."

Mrs. Hartson tapped her husband on the shoulder and pointed at Harold and Linda. "Isn't it nice to have the Brooke twins back again, honey?"

"Yes it sure is..."

"And they're so close too," she smiled, "just look at them hug. I wish our kids were like that... ANYWAY I'll go get us some more drinks!"

"Ok darling..."

Mr. Hartson watched as his wife walked to the buffet before turning back to the young siblings to find them touching lips.

"Yes... they're very close indeed...."