#That's a problem for future me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trekscribbles · 7 months ago

Text

The Bushwhack Job: Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen

(Disclaimer: This is a relatively rough draft and subject to change when I post to AO3. I'm just overly excited and want to share what I have.)

Sophie didn’t want justice. She didn’t even want revenge.

She wanted to disappear.

But she couldn’t leave—not really, not yet. Not with Hardison in denial and Parker out for blood, and Nate… Nate would wait to implode until the job was over, but when it happened, there would be collateral damage. Someone needed to be there to sweep up the pieces, so she did what she always did when her heart took the shrapnel of a job gone wrong.

She became someone else.

Eliza Clancy walked into her new job at Lancaster’s downtown office without a care in the world. She shrugged her rhinestone-studded bag onto her desk and gushed good mornings to the various clients who streamed through the door, and she did her work with all the diligence of a fresh hire who still hoped to impress her boss. When Stephen Lancaster sauntered through the doors, Eliza turned the full force of her smile on him and earned a wink in return. She let him take the lead in the conversation, encouraging his advances with fluttered lashes and a blushing agreement to join him in his office. Lancaster smirked and strutted away, his heels clacking across the lobby. He played with his cuff links as he pressed the elevator button for his office, and Eliza kept a smile on her face in case he looked back before the doors closed.

Then she went to work.

Hardison had given her a thumb drive, and she plugged it into the computer tower under her desk and followed his directions for installing his program. His accent is atrocious, she texted Nate, unable to keep her hands still while she waited for the download to finish. His entire focus is on vowel mergers, and he completely ignores rhoticity and t-glottalization. Not to mention the fact that he’s combining half a dozen dialects. He wants very badly to be seen as Southern, but I’d guess he’s from New York.

Did you get Hardison’s program running? Nate replied.

She glanced at the download bar. Working on it.

“Excuse me?”

Eliza palmed her phone, flashing a smile at the man standing behind her counter. “Good morning, sir. How can I help you?”

The man gave her a polite nod. “Mornin’, ma’am. I’m just picking up an envelope for delivery.”

Eliza glanced at his jeans-and-hoodie combo, and the plain ball cap he held in his left hand, and raised her eyebrows. “Delivery for which company?”

“No company, ma’am,” he said, smiling. “I just do this on the side. My name’s on that envelope there. See?”

Eliza set her hand on the manila envelope labeled J.B. “This?”

“That’s the one.”

Something prickled in the back of her mind, and she tilted her head at him. “This is from Mr. Lancaster?”

“Directly from his office,” J.B. answered.

Well, that was deliberate wording if she’d ever heard it. “And he knows it’s from his office?”

A flicker of interest brightened in his eyes. “Y’know, I’ve made pick ups here before, and I’ve never seen you. I would’ve remembered.”

“I’m new,” Eliza said, leaning forward on her elbows.

“Is that so?” J.B. gave her another curious look, his smile widening. “And just when did you start?”

She lowered her voice. “This morning.”

“That’s pretty convenient timing.”

“For what?” she asked innocently.

He shrugged. “Nothing. Never mind me, I just get to talking. But I wonder if you might help me with something else.”

She waited, inviting him to go on with a small smile.

After a moment, he eased forward a step and set his arm on the counter. “What’s Mr. Lancaster’s schedule like for the rest of the day?”

“Are you hoping for an appointment?” Eliza asked.

“Not specifically,” J.B. said. “Just curious. Between the accident at his new office building and his press release regarding that historical find, I’m sure he’s a busy man. I suppose I was just wondering how busy.”

“He’ll be in his office all afternoon,” Eliza said, watching J.B.’s expression carefully.

He smiled. “Thank you, ma’am. You’ve been a big help.”

He tucked the envelope under his left arm and nodded to her as he turned away. She almost went back to her work, but some instinct kept her watching as he passed the security guard standing at the doors, where he dropped the envelope, laughed at himself as the guard bent to pick it up, and deftly slipped the walkie-talkie off the man’s belt.

He glanced back at the lobby, noticed her watching, and winked.

“I think he likes you,” said the woman at the next desk.

Eliza raised her eyebrows. “You think so? Have you seen him before?”

“He’s been here a couple times in the last few weeks,” her neighbor answered. “Sorry, you’re new, right? I didn’t catch your name.”

“Eliza.”

The woman smiled. “I’m Peg. You figuring things out okay?”

“Oh, sure,” Eliza said. “Everyone here is so nice.”

“Of course they are.” Peg gave a short laugh, and Eliza tilted her head. “Well, that all stems from Mr. Lancaster,” Peg went on. “He sets the tone for everyone. I noticed he talked to you quite a bit when he came in.”

Was that jealousy? Eliza waved a hand and glanced at her computer to check the progress of Hardison’s program. “He was only asking about his schedule.”

Peg tossed her hair. “He likes to check on us. I wouldn’t be surprised if he invited you up to his office. He does the same for all the new girls.”

Eliza flashed her a disarming smile. “Oh, I don’t think anything of it. I’m sure he’s a great boss, but he’s not my type.”

“I see.” Peg’s expression softened, and she returned the smile. “Well, let me know if you need anything. I’m happy to help.”

That was... interesting. And not quite in character for Eliza—she was friendly but tough, used to taking care of herself, used to getting her way. She wouldn’t have backed down from Peg’s challenge. But she’d opened her mouth to deliver a backhanded comment about Peg marking her territory, and at the last second, she’d deferred. She’d chosen sugar over vinegar, reassurance over escalation.

And it had worked.

Eliza studied her computer screen without seeing it. That wasn’t her style. She didn’t submit, she needled. She found out what her target wanted, and then she withheld just enough to make them want to help her, made them crave her attention and approval. Backing off like this, disarming her opponent with quiet charm—that was more like—

She shook her head, blinking hard at the screen.

“A little tip,” Peg said, leaning back in her chair to look at Eliza. “Mr. Lancaster likes it when we bring in pictures of our families. He wants the office to have a homey feel.”

Eliza swallowed back a rush of emotion and smiled. “Well isn’t that nice.”

“Kids especially,” Peg went on. “Married with kids is always good.”

“Sorry,” Eliza said, huffing a small laugh and holding up her plain-fingered left hand. “No husband, no kids.”

“Well that’s all right, other family works too. You got any siblings?”

No. Eliza was an only child—driven, independent, and confident. She’d come to the city to work her way into a management role; she had big dreams, and she wasn’t afraid to fight for them.

“A brother,” she said, without her brain’s permission. “I had a brother.”

Sympathy chased the lingering distrust from Peg’s expression. “Oh, hon, I’m sorry. You were close?”

“He—We—” she stammered. “We were…” What were they? How could she possibly describe what he was to her? But Peg was watching, and she had to say something, so she took a breath and stole the words he’d once said about her. “He was a brother and a best friend, all rolled into one.”

“You don’t have to put up a picture if it’s too hard,” Peg said. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

A message on the screen blinked, and Eliza forced a smile to her face. “Oh, that’s all right. But I—I really should get back to this. I got some appointments to enter.”

“Of course,” Peg said gently. “You let me know if you need anything.”

Nate arrived shortly after that, and she passed him the credit card she’d taken from one of Lancaster’s sales reps so he could update his outfit to match Lancaster’s expectations. She waited for him to return, but before he could, Janish, the hulking head of security, showed up with a message for Eliza to meet Mr. Lancaster in one of his private offices.

“Of course,” she said, balancing her tone between shy and eager. “I’ll just freshen up and—”

“No need,” Janish said. “Follow me, please.”

She made one more attempt, putting on her prettiest smile. “There’s no need to trouble yourself. I know where his office is.”

“Mr. Lancaster has a meeting in his penthouse office,” Janish said blandly. “He will meet you on the fourth floor. Come with me, please.”

And for the first time in years, she felt afraid. It surprised her—snuck up on her, like a... well, like a thief. She’d been on her own for so long, had relied on herself for so long, that it shouldn’t have been such a shock to return to a system where she had no backup. But since joining the team, she’d never really been alone on a job. They were always there on the comms, and barring that, she’d always been able to rely on...

She bent to retrieve her purse from under her desk, pausing just long enough to unplug the thumb drive and drop it inside. “Lead the way, Mr. Janish,” she said, smiling. She could handle being on her own.

She had to.

He ushered her to the office at the end of the fourth floor hallway, where she waited quietly while he guarded the door. She pondered what Eliza would do if the con was up, and how she’d manage if she had to drop the front she’d built up. She pretended not to recognize Nate when he came to request her presence on Lancaster’s behalf.

And then Eliot was there, arriving just in time to save the day like he always did, and the con and the character and every other crisis melted away when she wrapped her arms around him and cried.

***

“Ford, I have Parker. Come around to the front. Lancaster’s still inside with Spencer.”

J.B.’s voice came over Nate’s radio, and Sophie abandoned the side door they’d been watching and ran as quickly as her heels would let her toward the front of the building. “He has Parker,” she panted. “What about Eliot?”

Nate glanced at her as they ran, but he didn’t answer. All the relief and joy that had been twisting in her stomach fell back into a tangle of anxiety, and she paused to take off her shoes so she could go faster.

They weren’t going to lose him again. They couldn’t. If he was still inside, they would go get him.

They were bringing him home.

Hardison was waiting with Parker and J.B., who was deep in discussion with a police officer—the chief, judging by the golden stars embroidered on his sleeve. “Didn’t you hear what she said?” J.B. was saying, gesturing wildly at Parker. “We’ve still got a man inside, and Lancaster has a gun. We can’t just sit out here and do nothing.”

“I can’t send any of my men inside until the bomb squad arrives,” the chief answered.

“Come on, Vince,” J.B. said. “They’re just in the lobby. If you won’t go in, then at least let me.”

The chief shook his head. “You know I can’t do that. You’re a civilian now, Rimes. You’re not trained for this.”

“I’m trained for more than—”

“Let me do my job,” the chief interrupted. “I’m letting you stay on this side of the blockade for old time’s sake. Don’t make me regret it.”

He turned away, shouting orders for his men to keep the gathering crowd away from the building, and J.B. swore under his breath. Sophie glanced at the building, blinking in the glare of the mirrored windows. She couldn’t see inside, but if Eliot was just in the lobby…

“You said Lancaster has a gun?” Nate asked.

Parker nodded. “Eliot told me to get out. He promised he’d follow.”

“Normally I wouldn’t question that,” Hardison said, standing close to Parker. “But he’s not exactly operating at 100% right now. Without his memories—”

Parker spun to face him. “Without his what?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Sophie asked.

“Tell me what?”

“He hit his head,” J.B. said. “Retrograde amnesia. He didn’t even know his name when I found him.”

“But...” Parker shook her head, frowning at Hardison, then Sophie, then Nate. “He knew me. He called me Parker.”

“I told him your name,” Nate said. “But he told me himself that he didn’t remember us.”

“He knew me,” Parker insisted. “He said he thought I was inside the LanCast building.”

“Wait.” J.B. gaped at her, then at the others, then back to her. “That was you?”

Nate’s eyes were back on the building, but he turned his head toward J.B. to explain. “Lancaster set a trap. He told Eliot that Parker was inside so he would go in after her.”

“Then...” A grin split J.B.’s face, so bright and unexpected that it warmed some of the chill in Sophie’s chest. “You’re alive!” he laughed. “And he knows it? He knows it was you?”

Parker opened her mouth, confused, and J.B. waved a hand to cut off her question. “He remembered someone important was inside,” he said. “Or—was supposed to be inside. He went back to look for you, but when I told him the news reported three bodies had been recovered, he—well, we both thought you were dead. It was—he was—” He shook his head and resettled his cap on his head. “I was worried about him. I’ve seen men lose their friends in combat, guys they were supposed to protect… I wasn’t sure he’d come through the loss. He may not have remembered your name, but he remembered you.”

“All of us,” Nate said quietly. “Not like Parker, but… he told me he’d dreamed about us. A part of him remembered.”

“And he promised you he’d make it out?” J.B. asked Parker. When she nodded, he smiled. “Then he will. After what he went through, he’s not going to give you all up again.”

Nate’s eyes flashed. “We’re not giving him up, either. Parker, Hardison—if Eliot’s hurt, we’ll need paramedics.”

“On it.”

Police and firefighters shouted orders over their sirens, but J.B.’s status apparently applied to them as well, because nobody made them back away. Hardison and Parker returned a few minutes later, dressed in paramedic uniforms.“I got the keys to an ambulance,” Parker said, panting. “We just need to—”

A single gunshot sounded from inside. They froze, and Sophie held her breath, waiting for the inevitable.

There was a low, metallic boom, and the windows in the upper floors shattered. People on the street behind them screamed, their voices joining the noise Sophie could barely hear over the pounding of her heart. Parker broke for the door, but J.B. caught her and held her back, and she didn’t even have time to fight him before a second explosion rocked the ground. Firefighters yelled at them to stay away, to get everyone back, to clear the area—and then a blast of fire and broken glass blew through the doors, and Sophie raised a hand to shield her face as the concussion knocked a wall of heat against them.

When she looked again, Eliot was sprawled face-down on the ground in front of the ruined doors, unmoving.

They were all running, then. Parker reached him first, falling at his side and brushing the glass from his back, shaking his shoulders. He didn’t react.

J.B. crouched beside her and turned him over. “Take his legs. I’ll get his—”

Hardison dropped at his side and pushed his hands away. He scooped one arm under Eliot’s knees and wrapped the other around his back, pulling him up against his chest as he stood. Sophie caught Eliot’s limp arm and tucked it across his stomach before Hardison turned away. Her face was wet again, and flames roared at her back. Nate dragged her away as firefighters swarmed the building.

Parker ran ahead to open the back door of their stolen ambulance, and J.B. jumped inside to help lift Eliot’s body—Eliot, a live, living Eliot, not his body—onto a waiting stretcher.

Sophie put her hand on Hardison’s empty arm. “It’s okay,” she said, because Hardison was shaking and she had to say something, even if she wasn’t sure she believed it. “He’s going to be okay.”

He dragged his sleeve over his face and took her hand, never once looking up from Eliot’s face.

“He’s breathing,” J.B. reported, his voice distracted. “Parker, hand me the BP cuff there—yeah, thanks. Help me get his sleeve rolled up.”

They worked silently for a few minutes, shuffling back and forth between the narrow aisle as they checked Eliot’s vitals. J.B. spent the majority of that time by Eliot’s head, shining a light into his eyes and feeling for injuries hidden beneath his hair.

“Ford,” J.B. said finally, leaning back and wiping his arm across his forehead. “I don’t know much about you folk, or about Spencer, but I assume you’d like to avoid a hospital stay?”

“That would be ideal,” Nate said. Sophie glanced at him; his voice was raspy, like he’d been inhaling the smoke pouring out of the building, and he wouldn’t look at her. She reached out with her free hand to take his.

“I can treat his leg at Sunny’s,” J.B. said. “And I don’t see any other injuries I couldn’t handle. But he needs a CT scan before I can be sure we can risk it.”

“How are we going to get a CT scan outside of a hospital?” Sophie asked.

Hardison squeezed her hand, inhaled, and let it go. “Leave that to me. Text me the address, I’ll meet you there. Parker?”

Parker vaulted out of the ambulance and threw a glance over her shoulder at them. “It’ll be okay,” she said, smiling. “He promised.”

Then she and Hardison ran around the side of the ambulance and were gone.

#leverage #leverage fanfic #fanfiction #my fic #the bushwhack job #sophie devereaux #eliot spencer #sophie and eliot's relationship is so important to me #i need to rework some of this but #that's a problem for future me #the next chapter will be from hardison's pov!

16 notes · View notes