#and eliot is not far behind

[planetarywho]

Why do I hate myself to the point of deciding to rewatch The Magicians? I know what it did to me the first time around, why do I go back?

[yardsards]

the trouble with moving in with someone who's lived in that house for a long time before you is having to constantly figure out "is this thing like that On Purpose or can i fix it?" like. is that bowl of weird liquid in the microwave load-bearing or did you just forget it and can i go ahead and dump it out?

[lindseymcdonaldseyelashes]

By now, the authorities have surely caught on and noticed that where there's suspicious activity, a Brick & Basil food truck is never far behind. The problem is that it's a legitimate business and that's there's so damn many of them. Plus, they're all managed by veterans who know how to handle themselves. In the training manuals, on top of proper care of the vehicles, and sanitation guidelines, and delicious recipes, Eliot has left them very clear instructions on how to get out of a bind if they're ever pulled over without just cause. Many cops have already (deservedly) lost their jobs over unlawful search and seizure related to the chain, so the ones that know what's good for them don't even try anymore.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Hello, can you write a one shot for the human yandere Klaus Mikaelson, where he generally maintains a fairly normal courtship with his girlfriend although he is still super obsessive and protective, but after they get married and she gets pregnant, they break into her house at night while they were sleeping and Klaus kills the thief so that he does not hurt his pregnant wife and after this event his Yandere side comes to light and he becomes extremely protective, to the point that they move to a house in the middle of nowhere so that Nothing and no one can see his wife, and he practically doesn't let her go out or do anything alone, which leads her to make a garden so she can have food for dinner and Klaus installs many cameras to monitor her and even learned to attend a birth.

Extreme Paranoia -Klaus M.

All Human AU

Summary: Klaus becomes overly paranoid after a break-in at his home. Even after killing the intruder, it is not enough for him-he needs to protect his wife and son no matter what.

Y/n had always known that Klaus was paranoid, but the break in seemed to have switched something in his brain into overdrive.

Y/n had heard glass shattering downstairs as she was tending to their 8 month old son in his nursery and she immediately jumped from the recliner where she was nursing him in fear. Elliot instantly began crying as he was ripped away from his meal and continued as Y/n carried him into their bedroom, seeing Klaus awake as he rubbed his eyes.

‘What fell?’ He asked, still groggy from just being awoken.

‘Klaus, I think someone is downstairs, something shattered and I could hear footsteps on-‘ she didn’t even get to finish her sentence before he was out of the bed, grabbing the fire poker he kept in the room.

‘It’s okay, stay here love, do not move from this bed, do you hear me? I’ll take care of it-‘

‘No, no don’t leave us. Please? Klaus, what if he has a gun? What if-‘

He shushed her instantly, kissing her lips firmly. ‘I’ll be fine. You just stay and keep Eliot safe. Here, call 911.’ He instructed, handing her the phone and she did as he said, calling the police as he shut the door behind him.

At the end of the night the medics had taken the man that broke in to the hospital, doubting he would make it that far with how badly Klaus had fucked him up. Her husband was put off by the fact that the police needed to see her before they could leave and she came to the stairs with their son who made grabby hands for his Daddy who instantly reached out for him.

‘Babe, you can’t touch him! You’re covered in blood!’ Y/n exclaimed and Klaus just seemed to notice. The police left and they locked up again and Klaus showered as quickly as humanly possible before rushing back to his wife and son who he held the rest of the night, Y/n cuddled to his side all while he had his laptop open, researching the safest places to live.

It took Klaus one week to have their entire lives packed and moved to the new house, one that he had bought in a bank auction and had fixed as quickly as possible. He has installed security cameras all over outside the house as well as one in the baby’s room, the doors were all triple locked and there were motion sensors that he had installed by the driveway entrance to their property (one that you couldn’t find unless you were really looking).

Y/n thought he was going a bit overboard when he bought the gun, but he kept it in a safe lock box that Eliot could never get in and insisted she learn to use it.

They were living happily for a few weeks but as Klaus made more and more “upgrades” to the house he seemed to get more paranoid. He wouldn’t let her leave anymore, insisting he do the shopping himself, and go out to get everything they need. She stopped going out with friends as it made Klaus physically ill with worry, and instead decided to tend to a garden. They were in the middle of nowhere so shopping wasn’t very easy and having fresh produce as well as a large chicken coup made it easier.

Y/n didn’t think that Klaus’ paranoia could get worse until she told him that she was pregnant with their second child. More cameras went up and he adopted a large female Pitbull and male Cane Corso from the shelter in the closest town, the dogs were the sweetest, happiest and loviest creatures they had ever met but Klaus was happy to learn that the large Cane Corso-Dantè didn’t like men that weren’t himself or his son, and hated them around his “mommy”. Something that set Y/n’s mind at ease was how protective the Pitbull-Scout was of their son. She was with him at all times so when he ventured off on his own-which was rare while his mother was making dinner-Y/n knew that he was safe and Klaus knew that both his son and his wife were protected as they needed to be.

The last crazy thing that Klaus did was learn everything he could about home births. He caved when she demanded a midwife that could be there and induce her labor as well as give her an epidural as she refused to push a baby out of her coochie without proper drugs. Klaus was just happy that he wouldn’t have to take her to a hospital.

It was actually Dantè that alerted Klaus to Y/n going into labor, running up to his office and barking like crazy. Eliot had just turned 2 and had been helping his mother tend to the chickens when her water broke and he was sitting with her and rubbing her belly sweetly when Klaus got outside-carrying her in as he called the midwife with their son right on his heels.

‘I’ll be fine, go make him something easy for dinner and set him on the couch with Scout. He will be fine and so will I, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack and leave us here all alone Nik, relax.’ The midwife wouldn’t be there for another 20 minutes and though she loved her son, Eliot being in the room was more of a hinderance than anything. ‘Go, feed him, feed the dogs, feed you and bring me a cup of my ice chips when you come back.’

That was a cute surprise that Klaus had gotten her when she had compromised about not going to a hospital, he found an ice maker that makes ice chips like the ones in hospitals as he knew she wouldn’t be allowed to eat much. ‘Alright. Yell if you need something and I will be right here.’

‘I promise.’

‘Okay. Come on buddy, Mommy needs to rest before she has your little sister and you need dinner. You and Scout can watch Bluey while you eat dinner. Stay here Dantè, I’ll bring you your dinner.’ He promised, carrying his son downstairs and setting him on the couch, telling Scout to stay with him which she did right away, Klaus turning the camera in the living room on and turning on the app on his phone as well as turning on the camera in his bedroom that he had for emergencies-wanting to keep an eye on Y/n if he had to, it being the only camera she didn’t know about…almost…

He had just given Eliot his dinner when the midwife knocked on the door, Klaus checking the cameras to be sure even though he’d gotten an alert on his phone when she had driven up. ‘Thank God, I think she would have killed me if you hadn’t come.’ He joked but was half serious as he led her upstairs to the bedroom and gave Dantè his food as well as his wife her ice chips making her happy as she could currently get. She got her epidural and had Klaus alongside her as she got ready to push.

2 hours later they welcomed their daughter into the world, the midwife handing the bundle to Klaus first who felt an overwhelming need to protect the little girl in his arms more than even he thought possible before leaning down and handing his wife their daughter that they decided to name Riley.

The midwife stayed for another hour as Y/n fed Riley for the first time before she was gone leaving Klaus with a sleeping wife and baby before venturing back downstairs and finding exactly what he expected. His son was asleep on the couch with Scout snuggled beside him as Bluey played on the TV. The dog jumped up at Klaus’ arrival and followed them up to his bedroom where Klaus changed him and put him to bed.

He turned up the alarms that night, not falling asleep for quite a long while. He spent the rest of the night wondering what other safety precautions they should be taking and he decided that he needed to have a panic room installed in case of emergencies. He knew that convincing his wife was not going to be easy but it was worth it. He was content that night with his family in his bed (Eliot crawling in with Scout 2 hours later) knowing that they were all completely safe with him there as he would always be.

Nothing would ever come so close to hurting his family ever again! He would make sure of it.

Klaus M. Masterlist

[onyxbird]

Only the Best

Parker will accept nothing but the best in injury care for her team, even if her idea of “best” is… unusual. Eliot, and later Breanna, recuperate from injuries with the help of the best ice pack, which, as everyone knows, is the green one. Everyone, that is, except Harry, who still has much to learn about this life of crime. (Also on Ao3)

Parker narrowed her eyes. “I said the green ice pack.”

Harry's eyes went from Parker to the blue ice pack in his hand, freshly retrieved from the freezer. “Aren't they the same?”

Parker's frown deepened. “Does that look green to you?”

“Parker.” Eliot rested his good hand on her forearm.

“Well, no,” Harry floundered. “I just meant that they looked the same except for the color, and I didn't think that matter—” Whatever he saw in Parker's face, he apparently thought better of finishing that sentence and raised his hands placatingly. “I'm sorry. I'll go back and get the green one.” He met Eliot's eyes worriedly. “Do you want me to take this one back with me or use it until I get the right one?”

Eliot wordlessly held his hand out for the blue ice pack and gingerly pressed it to his injured shoulder as Harry headed back downstairs. Parker scowled at his retreating back before returning to her task of—none too gently—cleaning the cut on Eliot's temple.

“Park, he didn't know.”

“I told him to get the green one!”

“I know, but they look like they'd work the same.” They would work the same—the only difference was color—but Eliot knew that argument was a lost cause.

“The green one is the best! You need to use that one so your arm heals fast.”

Eliot sighed and rested his head against the back of the chair, lips twitching into an involuntary smile. “…It's OK. I'm sure he'll remember next time.”

…

There were a full dozen ice packs lined up neatly in the door of the freezer. The favored Green Ice Pack was at the front of the pack where someone (Harry? Sophie? Eliot couldn't remember) had returned it after it had thawed beyond usefulness. Eliot poked it experimentally, but it wasn't refrozen yet.

He sighed and grabbed the blue one behind it—the one Harry had brought first.

The next one after that was purple and identical to the blue and green except for color (they'd come in a 3-pack). They were the best of the bunch for general use, in Eliot's opinion—good size, optimal texture when frozen (malleable enough to wrap around the body, but stiff enough to hold their shape be pressed into a sore muscle with some pressure without all the cold filling oozing away into the edges), smooth casing. The others were perfectly adequate, just… not as good in one aspect or another. Slightly too small or an awkward shape or scratchy edges exposed or an unpleasant casing material. Eliot was pretty sure the one at the far end hadn't been used since they moved in here, but in his line of work, it was better to have extra first aid supplies rather than risk running out when you needed them.

He closed the freezer and slowly made his way back towards the stairs.

Maybe he should just buy another pack of the good ice packs. Maybe check if they could be purchased individually (or in an all-green pack) to make this easier in the future.

Probably should check with Parker first, though. She had always insisted the green one was the best (enough that he himself irrationally favored the green one—he just wouldn't have actually sent Harry back to swap them), but he wasn't 100% that the color was the sole reason, and the last thing he needed was to have to determine which of four identical green ice packs is the Green Ice Pack.

…

Breanna curled into herself on the couch. She bit her lower lip, blinking back tears and trying not to audibly sniffle.

This was stupid. Eliot got hurt worse than this all the time. She shouldn't be a baby about it. It didn't even hurt that much.

It was just… She'd never been punched in the face before, at least not since a handful of unskilled elementary-school brawls. The blow had been glancing (turns out it's hard to follow through on a punch while Eliot Spencer is actively dislocating your other arm as he yanks you off of his teammate), but seeing a security guard twice her size with actual fighting skills swinging his fist at her head (and seeing the glee in his face at the opportunity to hurt her) had left her trembling uncontrollably.

Eliot finished his careful assessment of her bruised cheek. He hadn't gotten more than an arms-length away since he'd dropped the unconscious goon on the ground and hustled her back to the food truck to drive to HQ. Harry paced anxiously behind him.

Breanna willed herself not to cry. It wasn't Eliot's fault—or Harry's—that the guard had come after her while they were dealing with the mark.

“OK, darlin'. Looks like it's just a bruise, but you should put some ice on that.”

Breanna couldn't quite hold back a sniffle. “…Can I have the green one?”

She wasn't expecting the soft smile and gentle squeeze of her shoulder she got in return. “Of course you're gonna get the green one. Only the best for you, and the green ice pack—”

“Is the best,” Breanna finished, smiling despite her watery eyes. She swiped a sleeve across her eyes. “Everybody knows that.” She paused. “Except Harry.”

“Hey!” Harry smiled at her, belying his aggrieved tone. “I learned.”

Eliot returned with the green ice pack—which he solemnly displayed to her before wrapping the towel around it—and a tupperware of homemade triple-chocolate brownies from the freezer.

“You know,” said Harry, “when I got hit in the head, I didn't even get an ice pack. All I got was a bag of frozen peas, and they didn't even let me keep that because there was only one and your brother was hungover!”

“Were they green peas?” said Breanna.

Harry's face contorted through a few surprised expressions before he finally shrugged. “…Well, yes. I guess they were. I do think the 'ice pack' attribute of the 'green ice pack' is also key, though.”

“OK, look,” said Eliot. “First, that was at Sophie's house, and Sophie and Nate kept a masochistically inadequate supply of both ice packs and vegetables. Second, you were still a dirty lawyer that I just had to carry home to keep you from being caught in your little museum stunt. You think you deserved the green ice pack under those circumstances?”

“I was doing crime!”

Eliot raised an eyebrow.

“I was trying to do crime,” Harry amended.

Eliot folded his arms. “Breanna was doing crime at a level that had the FBI tracking her before she ever joined the team.”

“I almost stole a Rembrandt! I was getting there.”

“You were getting yourself on a fast track to being arrested. And you wouldn't have gotten FBI over one attempted art theft. You would have gotten local police and maybe an overly dedicated insurance agent. It's not the same thing.”

Breanna couldn't suppress a snort of laughter.

“Breanna! Don't gang up on me! I need backup here!”

“Hey, I told you: You make me look good!”

[bullet-prooflove]

The Fixer: Harry Wilson x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @buckysteveloki-me @hagarsays @misskrose @pascal-rascal424

Summary: Harry returns to the place it all started in an attempt to reconnect wiith you.

Companion piece to:

Sugar - You're Harry's first stop when he makes it back to New Orleans.

Bourbon (NSFW) - The things you and Harry get up to with a 10k bottle of bourbon... it's sinful.

Court Days - Court days are your favourite days.

The Corkscrew - You realise Harry isn't the person you thought he is when you see him on a date with another man.

You are a force of nature.

A tempest of movement and motion as you hurdle across the pasture on the same sleek black racehorse that bucked you three years ago, giving you a head injury so severe you lost your hearing.

Your hair blazes behind you in the breeze, your knees pressed tight against horse’s flank as you bolt towards the gate of the paddock like it’s a finish line.

No hesitation, no fear, just sheer force of will.

It’s one of the things Harry loves the most about you.

You don’t think twice, you just live the way that you’re supposed to.

Wild, free.

You slow to a canter, your palm smoothing over Midnight’s neck as you trot slowly towards the fence where Harry’s standing. He keeps his mouth shut as you disembark, watching as you gather up the reins in your fist pulliing them taut before you walk towards him.

“I thought you’d have the sense to stay away from here.” You say gesturing to the sign representing the Riverland Horse Sanctuary you started over a decade ago.

It’s how the two of you met. Some nefarious individuals from the racing world trying to shut down your business because you were bad for theirs. Instead of letting injured horses go to the chop shop, you bought them and retrained the ones with the right temperament to be therapy animals for the equestrian centre you partner with. It had ruined some reputations out on the track because the owners had claimed their horses were irreparably injured, when the truth was they just didn’t want to pay surgery or rehabilitation costs.  

When threats, bribery and one very shoddy attempt at blackmail didn’t work, they’d stepped it up a notch which is where Harry’s team had come in.

As far as you’re concerned after a couple of meetings with Harry and Sophie, Harry had worked some legal angle investigating your claims. He’d handed over evidence to racing officials and local authorities about the fucked up shit that was going on behind the scenes and those assholes were arrested, leaving you to take care of your horses in peace.  

You had no idea what Breanna had gone undercover as a jockey to get proof on the bribes. That Eliot and Sophie stole their money by playing a Texas Ranch owner and  a Southern Belle. That Parker had broken into a dozen different places to steal records on the horse doping and bloodline fraud, ensuing that if they ever did get out of prison, they would never be welcome back in those circles again.

Harry has kept you well away from that part of his life because the secrets he keeps, they’re not just his secrets. He has four other people to consider as well as an entire network he’d be putting at risk if he discloses the reality of what he does. It’s the reason he couldn’t tell you why he was on that date, not until he’d spoken to the rest of them to make sure they were on board with his decision.

“Look.” Harry says, rubbing his palm over the nape of his neck. “Can we talk?”

“We’ve got nothing to talk about Harry.” You tell him as you stride towards the stables in order to remove Midnight’s tack. “You betrayed me in the worst possible way-”

“But what if I didn’t?” He asks, walking parallel along the fence, his expensive shoes sinking into the grass. “There was no kissing, no sex, handholding was only as far as it went-”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You snap, turning your head towards him. “You went on a date with another person hours after we’d…” An angry flush creeps across your cheeks as you stop yourself from saying the words ‘made love’. “It doesn’t matter, I am clearly not enough for you-”

“That is not true.” He says fiercely, his eyes blazing as he meets your gaze. “That has never been true.”

“Then why were you having dinner with another man? Why were you holding his hand, acting like you wanted to take him home and fuck him in front of the fireplace?” You retaliate, your voice raising an octave. Beside you Midnight whinnies his disproval at your change in tone and you run your palm across his nose to sooth him.

“I…” He begins, searching for the right words and failing. “It was a con.”

“So you’re here because the man you took on a date catfished you?” You summarise incredulously. “And you think I’m going to what, feel sorry for you?”

“No…” He drawls out the word as the two of you come to a halt outside the stable, the literal end of the line. “I was the catfish, or the honeypot. I’m not sure if they both mean the same thing, there’s some semantics involved...”

You laugh and it’s a harsh, bitter sound that makes him flinch. You can’t help yourself because the audacity of this man, it astounds you. “So what? You’re a con man? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Harry clears his throat before placing his hands on his hips and meeting your eyes.

“It’s called a Fixer.” He tells you. “But basically yes, I’m a con man.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[heartofgold-info]

About Heart of Gold

Hello everyone! Thanks so much for your patience and your questions about the current status of Heart of Gold. It’s been an extremely busy time since we finished volume 2, with ups and downs in our private and professional lives. And sitting down to write this wasn’t easy, but we’ve been sitting on this far too long than we’d have liked, and we apologize for letting you all wait. Well, to get straight to the point: Heart of Gold is on an indefinite hiatus. There’s a chance we will return to this project, but right now we are focusing on other areas. More under the cut below!

Longform comics without a publisher and large funding behind it run at the risk of burnout, and we can now say we’re unfortunately no strangers to that. We’ve had incredible support from our readers and our patrons, much more than we could’ve ever imagined.

But unfortunately, as it is with webcomics, creativity and funding burns quicker than one might hope, and we ended up deciding to explore other avenues. We’ve always wanted to find our footing in illustration, and ultimately find a healthy balance between work and life without overextending ourselves. The workload of a comic can easily be underestimated, and boy, did we underestimate!

So right now, we’re focusing on growing artistically while also recovering from burnout; on finding ourselves a bit and what we want to create in this world to make it a kinder place.

We’ve been so grateful for every lovely bit of fanart, comment and financial support we've received from our readers. What started as a passion project found its way to people that returned the love we have for this project, manyfold. Thanks for sharing the excitement for HoG with us, it truly meant and still means the world to us.

We hope you’ll look forward to other projects we’ll be working on in the future, be it of our own creation or in collaboration with clients!

- Eliot & Viv

PS: As for printing plans for Heart of Gold volume 2: There's still plans! Just as mentioned above, no time or space (like, literally. we're drowning in books) to take care of it right now. But we'd love nothing more than to have a companion for volume 1.

[bennetsbonnet]

I don't often read contemporary fiction but my friend mentioned she had enjoyed a book called Falling Hard for the Royal Guard by Megan Clawson, so when I saw it the other day (in Aldi of all places) I thought I'd pick it up and give it a go if ever I needed an easy read. And after feeling emotionally devastated after finishing The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot earlier... I thought it seemed like a good idea. So I gave it a go.

As well as not reading many books written by authors who are... well... alive... I also usually stick with anything I pick up to read until the bitter end because there is usually something that I can learn from it... even if it's something along the lines of, 'well, I never want to read anything like that ever again.'

It's safe to say that I do, indeed, never again wish to have the misfortune of reading something that would fit right in on Wattpad circa. 2012, with such wonderful descriptions of the male love interest's eyes as 'Catherine wheels of jade and pietersite that sit like gemstones behind a fanning of dark lashes.'

Ooft. I was cringing... but I sort of zoned out and continued to skim read until the author demonstrated in the most infuriating ways that their familiarity with Jane Austen does not extend further than (presumably) the plot outlines of Austen's novels on Wikipedia and certain adaptations:

'I remember being fifteen and mentioning in passing that an acquaintance in my class at school was throwing a party whilst her parents were away, and that was it - Mum was bundling me into the car to get a crate of alcopops... Those nuclear-coloured drinks stayed in the pantry for a good few years and moved between at least three of our houses. I did stay up until 4 a.m. the night of the party, but that was because I was three-quarters of the way through Northanger Abbey and there was no way I was falling asleep before I knew whether Henry Tilney would rise up against his father to marry the woman below his station.'

Not really sure how Henry Tilney, a clergyman, marrying the daughter of a clergyman counts as marrying 'below his station.' I feel like the author wanted to write a character who is Not Like Other Girls and stays in to read classics instead of partying because she's just so quirky! but didn't have the necessary knowledge to write such a character because they have never actually read a Jane Austen novel in their life. Anyone with even a basic familiarity with the character of Henry Tilney (often thought of as the most romantic and instantly likeable of all of Austen's heroes) knows that his appeal comes from his knowledge of muslin and his kindness.

Anyway, my suspicion that the author had indeed never read a Jane Austen novel (and has only watched one adaptation. Yes, that one) was only furthered during this bizarre conversation between the Not Like Other Girls protagonist and her male love interest with the Catherine wheel eyes, where he insists she must watch LoTR with him (because all women cannot possibly have nerdy interests themselves and must be shown them by a man), while all women love romantic films:

'If I watch the Lord of the Rings then you have to watch a documentary with me. Or Pride and Prejudice! Has to be the 2005 version though, with Matthew Macfadyen as Mr Darcy. The better Mr Darcy. And I will die on that hill.' Getting a little too passionate about my Jane Austen adaptations, I blush, averting my eyes from Freddie. "You're not wrong.' When I look back to him, he is smiling. 'Macfadyen was a far more true likeness to the book than Colin Firth being all sexy clambering out of a pond in only his shirt.' And just like that, Freddie is, to me, sexier than any man in period costume, dripping wet and head over heels in love. He watches - and reads - Jane Austen? This man really is a mystery, but more than ever he's an enigma that I must solve.

Perhaps many do wish that Colin Firth's Mr Darcy was indeed wearing 'only his shirt' but that is obviously not the case, nor do we actually see 1995!Darcy 'clambering out of a pond' (isn't 'clambering out' actually a Bridgerton thing? I feel like I've seen a gif somewhere, perhaps that's where that misconception stemmed from.)

But to say 2005!Darcy is 'a far more true likeness to the book' is objectively one of the funniest things I've ever read because that particular pathetic specimen is barely even recognisable as the conceited, arrogant snob that is Mr Darcy.

Look, I'm not going to compare the Darcys or say which I think is superior. That's up to you. But what I will say is that one iteration of Darcy's worst offence is that people watch him and come away thinking that he jumped into a filthy body of water... while the other makes viewers believe that he was a poor socially awkward shy boy who stumbled over his words in front of his crush and has done perhaps irreparable damage to the perception of his fundamental characteristics in the popular consciousness. I leave it for you to decide which is which.

Anyway, to conclude, I think the author could have spent some more time reading those classics that they want to make their characters have a knowledge of. If they did, perhaps the author would have realised that there are more important elements to a good story than throwing in an obscure gemstone like pietersite, that not many people would even know what it is without the help of Google, to describe a character's eye colour.

I don't know what colour eyes Henry Tilney has, but he's an infinitely better written character than any that I encountered in this absolute abomination.

[fablesrose]

Hiiiii! Your leverage rewrite is giving me Eliot Spencer BRAINROT and I saw your requests were open, so I was wondering if you would be interested in writing something about the reader getting a bit beat up on a job, and falling asleep on Eliot while recovering? I don’t mind if it’s a oneshot, or if you want to put it in the rewrite or something. Thanks regardless, I love your writing so much!

Hi!!! Thank you so much, you can't even believe how much that means to me! I'm glad someone else is in the Eliot brainrot with me! I'm so sorry it took so long to post this, ever since you sent this I have been thinking about it and what I wanted to do with it and I finally got it on paper. Hope you like it!

Stay With Me

Eliot Spencer x Reader Words: 2.4k

As far as jobs went, this one wasn’t too bad. The ultimate goal was to steal some files for our client to prove gross misconduct. They would then go to the press or police, probably both, knowing how these types of jobs usually went. We were approaching the end game when some guards started to catch on. Parker and Hardison needed some more time and everyone else was preoccupied. So, it fell on me to be a distraction.

I quickly made my way through the building, dodging guards along the way until I made it to where Hardison and Parker were holed up, collecting files. 

“What are you doing here?” Hardison asked when he saw me step into the room. “You’re supposed to be keeping the guards away from us!”

“And I’m working on it!” I replied. 

Parker didn’t acknowledge me as she sorted through the physical files that she pulled from a cracked safe. 

“Parker, hand me a file we don’t need,” I asked and she quickly handed one over without looking at me. I grabbed it and turned back to Hardison, “Do you have a spare flash drive that has stuff that isn't important or nothing at all?”

He looked at me with a puzzled expression before pulling one out of his bag, “What are you doing?” 

I pocketed it quickly before answering, “Well the guards are coming to this room, they know something is up. What do you think they’re gonna do when they see someone walking out of the room carrying a file?”

Hardison started to nod along, “they’re gonna go after you and not bother to check the room.”

“Yup!” I called as I approached the door to leave. 

“What about the flash drive?”

I faced him before stepping over the threshold, “If I get caught, give them something to find.” I winked before stepping backwards into the hall. 

Just in time too. As the door latched, a group of three guards stepped around the corner. They made eye contact with me and I froze momentarily. 

“Hey!” One of them yelled at me.

I quickly dashed down the hall in the opposite direction. As I turned a corner, I looked back to see that all of them were hot on my heels and passed the room without a second thought. The one who yelled at me was talking through his radio to the other guards, directing them to my approximate location to try and head me off. It worked alright. Now to test my navigation and escape abilities. 

One thing I was blessed with was a pretty good memory and an interest in architecture. I liked reviewing blueprints and with the help of Parker, I was able to remember the layout of the current building. We were also able to identify interesting weak points and possible escape routes. This wasn’t the time to doubt my memory or my speed, so I just kept running. 

The original guards chasing me had fallen further and further behind, but I could still hear them behind me, so I couldn’t slow down. I turned another corner to find a lone guard running towards me. 

Change of plan. 

He got within a couple of yards when I threw the file I had in my hand in his face. It caused him to stumble just enough for me to get a head start down a different hallway. I finally made it to a stairwell and started making my way down. I had a large enough head start that I had almost thought I had lost them as I approached the bottom. I was proven wrong when a stairwell door above me burst open and sounds of shouting echoed down the stairs. I didn’t wait to see which direction they went before I burst through a door myself into the basement of the building. 

“Y/n,” Eliot said through comms, “Where are you? You still dealing with guards?”

“Yeah,” I panted, continuing to run and navigate the twisting hallways, “I’m doing okay, I’m in the basement heading to the north east corner where there should be-”

I turned yet another corner where the largest man I had ever seen stood barely three feet away.  He was dressed in a guard uniform and had his arm outstretched right in front of me. I couldn’t finish my sentence to Eliot before the guard clotheslined me, landing me flat on my back and knocking the rest of my breath out of my lungs.

I groaned, trying to scramble to my feet. “Where the hell did you come from?” I gasped, trying to catch my breath and run away.

The guard didn’t say anything as he grabbed my arm in a tight grip, pulling me to my feet. 

I wriggled and thrashed, trying to land a blow anywhere I could to break free, but the guard still didn’t budge. “Where do they keep you? In a cage?” I yelled exasperatedly, still not finding any opening. 

The guard didn’t seem to like the insinuation and with a grunt threw me against the wall. My shoulder and hip hit first, but it didn’t completely stop the momentum of my head from hitting the wall. A jolt of pain shot through my whole body before dulling to a throbbing ache. The only thing I could seem to do was curl into a ball, hoping it would make my body feel better. 

It sounded like someone was talking to me through the earpiece, but I couldn’t focus on it or decipher who was saying what. A slight whimper escaped my lips as I tried to raise my head. 

The guard approached me and started to rustle through the pockets of my jacket. He stuck his hand into the pocket where the dud flash drive was and I mustered all the strength I could into my less injured arm and launched it at his face. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was going for, a punch, slap, or scratch his eyes out, but I made forceful contact and I did feel my nails catch skin. 

The guard stumbled back, holding his face and swore loudly, the first word I had heard him utter. 

“He speaks,” I said with a pained chuckle from the floor. 

That comment also wasn’t appreciated as the guard gave me a swift kick to the gut. I simply gasped, not being able to muster up a sound to voice the pain. I wasn’t even sure if I could breathe anymore. My eyes screwed shut and I rested my head against the floor, not wanting to muster the strength to hold it up anymore. I was expecting the guard to come back and start searching me again, or even some more pain, but it didn’t come. 

I pried one eye open to see Eliot standing a few paces down the hall.

“Don’t touch her!” He growled, taking calculated steps towards the guard. 

The guard grunted, “Make me. I’ll snap you like a twig, too.”

I saw Eliot’s lips twitch into a smile before taking a fighting stance. The fight didn’t last long once the guard made the first move. He did get a couple hits on Eliot, but not enough to slow him down and knock him out. The guard hit the ground with a large thud that I could have sworn shook the ground. 

During the fight, I was able to maneuver myself into a sitting position against the wall. I started to try and use it to stand up when Eliot quickly approached me and gently helped me to my feet. He pulled my arm over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around my waist, carrying most of my weight as we walked down the hallway. 

“Where are the rest of the guards? Do we have to hurry out of here?” I asked slowly, trying to keep the ache out of my voice and calculate how to get out. I couldn’t use my previous route with how injured and sluggish I was now. 

“On a wild goose chase,” Eliot replied, not hesitating in his steps back toward the stairwell. 

“I’m not the goose, am I?” I asked humorously, but trying to keep laughing to a minimum. I had a feeling it would hurt if I tried.

Eliot chucked though. “No, I got them out of the picture so we can get out of here.”

My mind started running in circles trying to decide what he did, but eventually I half whispered to myself, “you know what? I don’t even want to know.”

When we got to the stairs I sighed heavily, anticipating how much effort it would take to climb them. 

Eliot looked at me and could see the dread in my face. “Here, sweetheart, I’ve gotcha.” He bent down and lifted my feet, putting me in a bridal carry and started up the stairs. 

“You don’t have to do that Eliot, don’t tire yourself out for no reason,” I said, but rested my head on his shoulder, feeling oh so tired. 

“I can carry you one flight of stairs, sweetheart, don’t worry about it.”

Another sigh escaped my lips involuntarily, “I’m so tired. I want to take a nap.”

Eliot purposefully jostled me a little bit, “Stay with me, sweetheart. Don’t fall asleep before I get you out of here and see if you have a concussion. It sounded like you hit that wall pretty hard.”

I groaned just remembering that initial pain, “Don’t remind me.”

When we reached the ground floor Eliot gently placed me back on my feet to seem a bit less conspicuous when walking through the building. This floor had a lot of offices and employees milling around. When I was distracting the guards I considered it a hazard, they could have slowed me down trying to not run into them. Now as we carefully walked through, Eliot still supporting much of my weight, the employees provided a bit of cover until we reached a side door to exit into the parking lot and the van. 

Eliot loaded me into the back and sat in front of me as Nate drove off, leaving the company and its guards far behind us. Eliot took a flashlight from Hardison and shined it in my eyes. 

“Your pupils look okay, responding well to light and are the same size,” he said almost distractedly as if talking to himself even though he was addressing me. 

 I simply blinked slowly and watched him think for a moment before he turned back towards me. 

“I’m gonna ask you some questions to test your memory, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What’s your name and birthday?”

I recited it quickly in the same pattern I always did when asked.

“Good,” he praised, “now what building were we just in?”

“Jackass Incorporated,” I replied. I paused before adding on sarcastically, “Oh sorry, I meant Jackson Inc.”

I finally got Eliot to crack a smile, “Glad to hear another confirmation that your sense of humor is intact. Last thing, say the months of the year in reverse order.”

This question took a little more time as I paused every few months to think, making sure I was right. When I finally landed on January I asked, “How’d I do doc?”

His eyebrows furrowed and his nose scrunched slightly, “I’m still nervous that you got a concussion.”

I sighed, “So no nap?”

He smiled grimly, “Not yet.”

The over hour drive home was relatively quiet, but the team kept me awake by talking to me. We finally made it back to Nate’s apartment. Normally we would be celebrating afterwards, but all I wanted to do was go home, and voiced as such. Eliot left no room for argument when he said he would drive me home, still not convinced of my cognitive capabilities. Frankly, I didn’t even want to argue with him, both because it was no use, and I didn’t mind the free ride home. 

He kept talking to me when driving, making sure I stayed awake. We finally pulled up to my place and Eliot insisted that he walk me in. Again, I didn’t put up a fight. 

“Do you have any other injuries that we need to take care of?” he asked once the door closed behind us. 

“It took you this long to ask?” 

He gave me a small glare, “I figured you would have told me if anything hurt more than you could handle, but I’m just double checking.”

I smiled, showing I was kidding, “Uh huh, sure. But no, nothing feels broken, everything seems to be in working order. If anything, mostly bruises.” I patted myself down gently, finding some tender spots, particularly around my ribs where the guard kicked me. Then remembered where my head hit the wall, “Hey Eliot, would you mind checking my scalp? I don’t think I broke skin, but…”

He nodded wordlessly and pulled me towards the couch and sat me down. He sat beside me so I turned away from him so he could see the place where my head hit the wall. He gently started to comb his fingers through my hair. His fingers immediately brushed against the spot where I hit and I flinched.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t feel a cut though,” he whispered to me. Even after checking the area, he continued to card my hair through his fingers. 

It felt even better than I expected and a sigh escaped my lips. My head tilted back as his fingertips explored my scalp beyond the sore spot. My eyes drifted closed and that urge to sleep washed over me again. 

“Can I fall asleep now?” I mumbled, mostly to myself. 

Eliot sighed and stopped his movements, “Yeah, I’ve kept you up for a couple of hours now, you should be okay. I should go and let you sleep.” He started to remove his hand and shifted to stand. 

I turned back around to face him and grabbed his hand, “Stay with me? I hear I’m supposed to be monitored for at least twelve hours for a possible concussion…” My eyes were fixed on our hands being clasped, but I eventually lifted my gaze to his own to find that he was transfixed on me. 

His lips curled into a smile as he shifted, leaning back into the couch, “Yeah, I think I can do that sweetheart.” He gently grabbed my shoulders and pulled me down to lay on his lap. He resumed running his fingers through my hair and across my scalp. 

I grabbed his unoccupied hand and held it to my chest, occasionally squeezing it in gratitude. It didn’t take long for the sounds of our consistent breathing to drift me off to sleep.

[leverage-ot3]

time for the obligatory post about what episodes I want to see in the upcoming leverage season(s)

(for reference, I made this similar post in 2020 after the reboot was announced. I'm pasting some from that post bc I still want them to happen lol)

new ideas:

I mentioned a date night episode in the last post (apollo really did bless me with foresight for the date night job on that one) but for considerment: ot3 date night. possibly their first date night after they all get together. breanna and sophie know it's happening (harry is, like, peripherally aware) and some crime hijinks are going down and the three of them are frantically trying to stop bad things from happening that are going to interfere with the date. I want to see them going through it behind the metaphorical curtain. I want to see breanna fighting for her life trying to out-hack the hacker that is going to ruin their ten-part itineraried date. harry has to get in a fistfight and eliot is so proud about it when he finds out after everything is over

tree law episode. harry has been frothing at the mouth about it since it was made. his life has been moving him towards this penultimate moment. breanna thinks it's HILARIOUS and cheers him on 100% of the way. she is VERY enthusiastic about this con

I'm not going to mention certain things because I've seen jrogers posting on bluesky social and I know he might be already writing some of those plots

con that the food trucks have plot-relevance. like, one of his food truck stations is being harassed /victimized by, like, a local gang or something that takes advantage of food truck/cart workers and the team steps in. the actual (veteran) food truck workers get involved in the con. leverage international might just have gained a few retainer members

quinn should come back for an episode. I know the actor is friends with ckane. they should make it happen because it would be iconic and I said so

on a similar note, ckane is friends with jensen ackles and. guys. wouldn't it- wouldn't it be extremely funny if a flame from eliot's past named sean sylvester who is a rugged drifter with a questionable past

episode where tara or maggie (or BOTH, can you imagine how powerful that would be???) come back and there is slight flirting with sophie possibly??? that or very obvious chemistry from a past tryst. sophie has slept with both of them, I know it in my heart of hearts. bonus points if tara and maggie fall in love (I think it would be funny. maggie's taste in men is canonically atrocious, I think she deserves someone like tara at this point)

I just want a lot of side characters to come back, okay? sue me I miss them

gonna put the rest under the cut since this post has become obscenely long

not episode-specific, but I want more mentions of the korean leverage team. and all the other teams too! we know that in canon there is the south korean one, the nigerian one, and one in london (I think that's it for mentions so far, but correct me if I'm wrong!)

episodes addressing issues with american imperialism and its effects on minorities and marginalized communities, specifically within this country (there aren't a lot of episodes where they are actively out of country)

dear fucking god take a more abolitionist stance on policing I'm begging. would it KILL you to not be weird about cops? pls just punch some more cops. take down white supremacist cops, I'm sure you can scrounge something up bffrrn

women's rights episodes. I know it's kind of recent, but episodes about accessibility of stuff like birth control, abortion access, etc. y'all are capable of making excellent episodes on that I know it

more climate crisis-related episodes. god knows you're feeling it in the deep south

taking down a corrupt megachurch pastor (although lbr, there is no ethical megachurch anything and you can fight me on this)

something to do with ace rights bc I think it would be really cool to see the team advocate for that stuff, especially since breanna is canon ace

helping a polycule that is being victimized by X organization/entity (maybe a housing association or medical or something???). breanna is bombastic side-eyeing the ot3 the entire time. it is making hardison sweat. sophie thinks it's hilarious

taking down 'writers' that use ai and self-publish AND/OR people that take original/fan works off of like ao3 and wattpad and publish them for personal profits without the author's consent. breanna would have a field day with this (god herself could try to convince me that girl does not read/write fanfic and I wouldn't believe it)

episode about underfunded public schools. we saw corrupt private schools in the fairy godparents job but I want an episode that would make abbot elementary writers proud

episode addressing native/indigenous. eliot is from oklahoma, I'm sure he is well aware of the health/job/economic/etc disparities on reservations. I will email jrogers about it myself if I have to- it anyone can get people going about native rights through a tv show it would be leverage.

I sent an ask to wil wheaton once asking if he was open to returning to leverage and I think he said he would be down for it. but chaos either has to be a reluctant ally to leverage international and is being handled by quinn as a hitter OR he is just. in jail. bc he sucks.

bpas and/or pfas episode. breanna has mentioned microplastics before but I want more

the team tears the shit out of conversion therapy camp owners and plants the seeds for legislation that will punish parents that try to send their kids to those hellscapes

while we're at it, I'd love to see an ep where they tackle the trans bathroom issue. god knows the news doesn't talk about it nearly enough

something to do with foster care. they end up starting some sort of foster care network that past clients/allies can take part in. maybe a mentorship program for kids that want to do what they do one day (they are very reluctant to encourage kids to participate in crime BUT if that is the avenue that they are going to inevitably go towards, they guide them in the right direction). nana makes an appearance (*insert 'everybody liked that' meme*)

prison industrial complex episode. I KNOW we had the jailhouse job BUT we really need this in our year of 2024

another episode on corrupt influencers. maybe influencer parents? dear god pls take them down a notch

ep where there is an underlying message that tells you how to avoid becoming victim to scams or something, or like is a tutorial for how to identify scams you might fall victim to (sorry, I just have to say this after two separate people tried to pig butcher me in less than two (2) weeks))

not to say I want them to do an ep calling out cop city, but it would feel really good to watch the leverage team rip that concept to SHREDS

the minimum wage job. need I say more? we deserve the catharsis

pls go after goodwill execs, esp the ones in the pnw that have their sector as for-profit and have become millionaires+ because of it while paying their staff (especially disabled staff) fucking pennies

while we're on the topic, pls call out salvation army (the corporation)

I can probably go on for like five hours so I'll stop here

ep that we get to see harry and his daughter bond :)

job where they get to lower the price of insulin (and other drugs)

actually, you know what? an episode where the crew annihilates big pharma and terrible insurance companies

I think that breanna should be able to go off about mass/over consumption as a treat. I 100% believe she has Thoughts about it. like, she will absolutely call out the corporations that are responsible for these trends, but also she should be allowed to mention our tendency for overconsumption as a society. obviously there are a few corporations that are doing most of the world's pollution/ecological damage, but we should be doing our part too and I KNOW it would be in-character for her to go off on it

I bet she has a LOT to say about influencers, tbh. obviously not all influencers are bad, but there are sooooo many problematic ones and problems within the influencer industry

sizing discrimination in the modeling/clothing industry. let eliot talk about how there are no perfect bodies. also while I'm on the subject, can we PLS have more body-diverse background actors on the show? I know this is nitpicky but I'd really love to see some more people that look like me, even if they are just in the background

a thinly veiled writers' rights episode (I'm looking at you media execs and the stupid amount of time it took for you to comply to the WGA demands)

something to do with media companies making entire movies/tv shows and then fucking cancelling them/not releasing them and using them as tax write-offs. every time it happens it baffles me. that is cartoonishly stupid villain shit. I can't imagine lovingly working on a project for a year plus and then the company just going, nah, we aren't going to release it because you suck and it's a good business move

ai art and ai in general. please. let it BURN

okay now I'm done

ideas from the previous post that I still want:

comicon job. I said it before and I will say it again- we deserve it!!! come on, it's the age of the geek after all!!! (in the last post I also said a ren faire ep, but I will let the card game job count for that)

summer camp ep? I saw a tumblr fic about it and I think it could be cute. it could kinda be like the fairy godparents job- eliot in charge of some type of sports (archery, fencing, etc), hardison would be in charge of arts and crafts (this boy might be a genius with tech and in general tbh, but the show did such a good job of showing that he’s also very talented with the arts- sculpting the statue for the miracle job, forging the old diary in the king george job, etc), parker would LOVE to be in charge of a high ropes course. breanna would totally be down for some sort of nerdy kid robotics or simple, traditional camp games (can't go wrong with the classics. everyone loves making bracelets!) I feel like it's too stereotypical to have sophie have kids put on a play but we all know that's exactly what she would do. idk for harry? I think he has the same traditional camp activities vibe as breanna. he's in it for the nostalgia. OR something to do with videogames

please, please, please, please, please make an episode where they take down a cult, im begging. that would be such a good episode. definitely a mindfuck episode like the experimental job (4x11). I’ve seen a few posts about a job dealing with a cult (here’s one) and I think it would be really interesting 

MORE STERLING being DONE with leverage shenanigans!!! give me feral!sterling like in the frame-up job (5x10)!!! give me sterling that protests every step of the way but conveniently looks away and “whoops, the team just disappeared, I have no idea how that happened!!! diddly dang darn it, they got away again!!! sorry guys!!!” bonus points if mcsweeten is there too and also participates in intervening hijinks

the team takes down a circus that is still using and abusing wild animals!!! because first I’d LOVE to see acrobat!parker swinging up in the air like a pro and being in her element, but also because those places are the fucking worst and need to Go Down. give me eliot having to pose as an animal trainer with deep sympathy for the animals being abused, quietly talking soothing words to them when he thinks no one is around (correction: hardison is, in fact, around, and filming his boyfriend’s softness to save for later). give me charismatic hardison playing the role of ringmaster, running and flaunting about and being passive-aggressive to the circus master. give me eliot freeing the animals from their chains when they are finally able to shut the place down and relocate the animals to sanctuaries (his hands shaking just a little as twists the key in the lock, because he too was once an abused, caged animal in his own right and he knows how liberating it is to finally be free). 

[mr-story]

The park is not responsible....(Friendly mascots AU: 4)

(I think this might be my final one. You can find two others under the "friendly mascots AU hashtag" And it is my birthday too. So I guess this is my birthday gift to you? That's not how it works, but screw it! I make my own rules)

DEAR GIGGLELAND GUESTS!

THIS ATTRACTION IS CURRENTLY CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE!

THE PREMISES ARE TO BE NOT ENTERED BY ANYONE OTHER THAN DESIGNATED STAFF.

THE PARK IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY INJURY, DISMEMBERMENT OR DEATH CAUSED BY UNLAWFUL ENTRY ONTO THE DESIGNATED PREMISES.

YOU CAN'T HAVE FUN IF YOU ARE NOT BEING SAFE.

........

"Come on, Ella!" excitedly yelled little Annie.

It was just 10 AM and Ella's "daycare" was in "full swing". She was not sad or irritated about it though. Lucky for her, due to her character design, she had been wired not to let overwhelming noise and action take her down. In fact, it only gave her strength!

Not that she needed it since it was a rather calm day. Mondays were always like that. Ella was able to focus all her effort to just a couple of kids. Or in this case, just one.

" Oh. You are gonna wish you had run when I was catching my breath" Ella said in her best bad guy voice.

She and Annie were playing tag. Annie was just 7, her dad was an engineer and couldn't afford daycare. So he brought his daughter to work. (With only a minor reduction to his salary). She was just one child, but a child who was determined to make up for the lack of other kids in the group.

" Got you!" said Ella as she raised Annie in the air. She was a puppy with a youngster's mind, but she was strong. Annie giggled as Ella's tail wagged like a palm tree in a hurricane. They were lost in the joy of the moment.

Annie tried to struggle to get free. "Oh no! You are getting away" Ella teased and started tickling Annie's neck. The puppy and the girl laughed together for a long time. Their tag had shifted to a sudden tickle fight.

"Ella!" a frustrated voice said. It was Eliot. That got the girls to stop. "What?!" asked Ella, frustrated. Eliot gestured to his hat and magic wand. " I am going to have a magic show. Sooo....could you possibly".

Ella nodded. "Okay okay. I know you like your magic shows. We can get out of the way". Eliot thanked her and adjusted his hat. Ella let Annie down and the two girls decided to go to the other side of a brown building. It would block their sounds from reaching the stage of the magic show.

Ella took one last glance at Eliot who assisted with the set up. Eliot had been acting really frustrated and strange after getting beaten up about a week earlier. Ella wished he was alright. She preferred the old Eliot over this new one.

The building had a slanted roof and pictures of carrots all over it. Ella and Annie got to the other side but could still hear the people cheering to Eliot. "Nah! This is far away enough". The girls liked the building, Annie loved gardening so they wanted to be next to it. It was Annie's favorite attraction. With a name like Terri's vegetable patch, Annie was going to love it. But it wasn't open right then.

They decided it was time to play Ella's favorite game of all....hide. And. Seek!

"Okay, Annie. You want to hide first? Or should I try to hide instead?" Ella bent forward. " I think......you count!". Ella giggled at the way Annie was able to get joy out of the most basic things. Whatever she did, she did fully.

Ella faced the wall and instantly heard giggling. " No peeking!" Annie reminded her. " 1. 2.".

".....18. 19. 20! Ready or not, here I come". Ella swung around like a ballerina. The pep in her step was breaking the Richter scale! She was gonna find that little girl and...well she had no idea. She was going to figure the next step after finding her! "Where are you, Annie?" Ella said in a sing-a-song tone. She had a mischievous look on her face. Nobody beat her in hide and seek.

........

"Annie?!". Ella looked behind the last trash can in the area. That little child had gone too far away. That was rather unfair. Unless....

Ella noticed a tiny yellow piece of cloth stuck on the sharp edge of a cyclone fence. The door to the attraction had been blocked, but a bit of the gate was open. Annie had had yellow pants. It must have been ripped when Annie rushed through. Annie had gone right inside the closed attraction.

"Oh goodness!" was all Ella could let out. She read the sign next to the gate and wasted no time. Annie had broken the very first rule of safety at Giggleland! She rushed in and hopefully she would get Annie out before anyone noticed. Otherwise they would be in real trouble.

Ella passed a plastic dust barrier and saw Annie's footsteps in the pure white and slightly tinted green powders on the floor. There was more green powder on the walls. "What is this stuff?" Ella asked herself and coughed. It was in the air too.

She followed the footptints deeper into the dark and haunting attraction. There was cleaning-up equipment as well as yellow canisters that seemed to be attached to some sort of nozzles. Ella had no idea what they were used for, probably left by the staff though. There were also strange masks with massive hard lumps around the mouth area. Ella didn't even want to imagine what they were for.

The air was dense with white and black powder. The place was already dark enough, but the powder made it near impossible to see more than 5 feet ahead.

The corridor got smaller, walls covered in plastic sheets. There was something moving behind them, but impossible to see clearly. Ella walked through another corridor to be greeted by cardboard cutouts of her and Eliot. She recognized it! She was in the store!

All the toys had been taken away. Annie's footprints made a sharp left turn! Ella looked to the right and figured out why.

There was a giant black lump! Like a pustule or an eggsack. It was undulating like a heart with dark root-like veins coming out of it. The roots climbed the walls and went inside them. The surface looked liquid with it moving up and down in sync with the beating. The sound was like that of a snail, moving forward in slimy strokes. The worst part was....it had teeth....a row of sharp teeth.

"What in the heavens is this?!" managed Ella through her strain. Not vomiting was hard. This wasn't worrying anymore, it was outright terrifying. Finding Annie wasn't the main problem, getting them both out alive was.

"Annie! You have won! Come out and let's get out of here" Ella yelled with as much strength as she could muster. The slime forming in her throat wasn't helping. "Annie! Please! We are not suppose to be here".

Then she heard a giggle.

"Annie!?" Ella ran in the direction of the sound. She saw her, a little silhouette just outside her full view. "Come on, Annie! This isn't fun!". Annie was really fast. They ran through the rooms where the walls were bleeding. Ella dodged the thick puddles on the floor. "Bet you can't catch me!" Annie teased. " No! No more tag! We are not suppose to be here!".

Annie crawled through a small hole in the wall. Ella had no choice, but to get her dress dirty. The dust was really getting to her. She felt like she might cough her lungs out. Annie was waiting for her on the other side.

"Annie....please....stop" Ella coughed. With her head almost out....she froze. Annie had had short, quaint shoes. The girl was wearing dark boots. That wasn't Annie at all. Ella felt cold crawl up her spine.

"Do you want to know a secret? I know where the girl is" the stranger whispered in a sing-a-song tone. Then she ran away.

Ella breathed heavily. She couldn't do this! But she had no choice, Annie wasn't gonna be left behind. So Ella pushed forward.

"Follow me! Not long now" the stranger gestured for Ella to follow. The walls were now covered with black ooze and veins undulating to an unknown beat.

Ella was fully hugging herself and tears were forming in her eyes. She was on the brink of a mental breakdown. She was in a nightmare. "This can't be real. THIS CAN'T BE REAL".

The stranger stopped in the middle of the room. It was like a boiler room with machinery everywhere. The lumps and veins had taken it over. The stranger laughed and turned around to face Ella. She had the face of an 8-year-old. Her clothes were run down and pitch black.

"Where...is..Annie?" Ella stuttered.

The stranger smiled. " She is all around us". Ella looked around in confusion. "Where...". But the stranger was gone.

Ella walked towards the machine. A big lump was moving properly. No undulating, just someone struggling to get out. Ella went to help. "Annie?". The egg burst open and Ella gasped.

The creature was dark, with no eyes or nose. A row of jagged teeth was its face, giant claws its hands. Ella fell on her rear and struggled to speak. Slime had taken over her throat and fear had paralyzed her lungs.

It lunged forward with Ella dodging just in time. Her legs woke up and in pure survival instinct, she fled.

But then at the door, out of the room, the stranger appeared in a flash of light. "No! No! NO!! You are not getting away". Ella stopped in shock as the strange girl walked towards her. " YOU REALLY THOUGHT WE WOULD LET THE GIRL GO?! She is a trespasser. Mommy does NOT like trespassers. KILL HER!" the stranger yelled at the creature.

It was coming, Ella was against a wall. And slash! She got a long cut on her face.

She hadn't been fast enough. There was nothing. Ella got up and ran. Her head was empty, only terror remained. She didn't stop for the stranger, Ella just ran....right through her. She didn't feel anything. Had the strange girl stepped out of the way just in time? Ella didn't know, didn't care!

She had stirred up a nest. Creatures were coming out of the bleeding walls. Ella screamed and just ran as fast as she could.

.....

Ella burst out of the building through a plastic sheet, covering a window. Her panic did not stop.

Her feet took her to the stage where Eliot was having a magic show. Ella burst through the back curtain right in the middle of a scene. She knocked the table over and collapsed on top of it. The gasps of the audience could be hardly heard through the thumping of her own heart.

"Ella! What in the giggles are you doing? You just...." Eliot started. But that stopped instantly. The pure horror on Ella's face and the tears flowing down her cheeks had shut Eliot up. "Ella...?".

Eliot's shocked look brought Ella back to the present. What she had done. And who she had left behind...... "ANNIE!! SHE'S GONE!" shot out of Ella's mouth. It got everyone spooked.

In a couple of minutes, the staff had arrived to the scene and were escorting the audience away from Ella. She wouldn't stop crying, she wouldn't stop shaking. The long cut on her face was being cleaned and Eliot tried to get her to calm down. His paws were holding hers. "Shhhh. Ella. Simon is coming. Just hold on". But her heartbeat was simply too loud for her to hear. She did nothing, just wept.

Until Ella looked right into Eliot's eyes. "I couldn't save Annie. I tried, but she is gone". Then she lunged into a hug, squeezing her friend hard. "I'm sorry" was all she could manage to whisper.

[lemissingmask]

[ID: Sketch of Redemption-era Eliot Spencer lying on the floor on his back with his back arched and neck muscles tensed, grimacing as a collar around his neck lights up, giving him an electric shock. End ID]

-

Day 8: alt. Electrocution

Eliot being tortured with a shock collar as a cheeky little bonus for Day 8

Ficlet below the cut

“Move and we shoot.”

The voice was nearly as cold as the barrel of the gun pressed against Harry’s head.

Eliot froze.

He was several metres away, where he had guided the fight to keep Harry out of it.

And now he was too far away to get to him, to do his thing and make this guy with a gun go away.

“Frank,” Eliot didn’t growl, but his voice was hard and even more threatening than this Frank guy with a gun’s was, “Let ‘im go.”

“You don’t get to make demands here, Spencer,” Frank replied, “Now stay still.  You know I won’t hesitate.”

Eliot glared, but he obeyed, staying perfectly motionless with his eyes on Harry.

Of the four other goons who had attacked them, two were unconscious, and one had blood pouring liberally from his nose. The remaining one, apparently following some signal from this Frank guy, moved closer to Eliot, smirking when his adversary did nothing but glare.

"Right ear," Frank said, "Comm unit. Take it out and smash it."

The gun shoved against Harry's head.

"You too, Wilson."

Harry slowly raised his hand, extracted the earbud and held it out. Frank took it, dropped it, and stamped, presumably crushing the comm as thoroughly as the other hitter had crushed Eliot's a short distance away.

"Phone," Frank demanded, and as he accepted Harry's phone, instructed his colleague, "Check him for phone and weapons. Spencer usually has a knife or two stashed somewhere."

And Eliot did.

As Harry watched, still held in place by the gun to his head, the other hitter retrieved a pocket knife, a multitool and too throwing knives from Eliot, as well as his phone. He tossed all this away, shot the phone with a loud crack that made Harry jump and Frank laugh.

By now, one of the others had woken up and the nosebleed of the other guy had been stemmed enough for him to get involved, which he did with evident relish.

"Get the collar on him," Frank ordered, the hand not holding the gun coming to grip Harry's arm, twisting it up behind him, "Watch closely, Wilson. This is the fun bit."

As if Harry had a choice but to watch.

Eliot remained fixed in place, his attention on Frank and Harry, as two of the other men roughly fixed a rigid collar around his neck, yanking his hair out the way and making a point of briefly choking him as they pulled the contraption on. And, it was a contraption. Not just a collar. There was a box on one side of it with a little red light.

Smacking Eliot unnecessarily on the back of the head as they finished, the other hitters stepped back, one pulled out his phone, and then, suddenly, Eliot tensed, teeth gritting, and dropped to his knees, as the collar light turned blue.

Harry instinctively made a move like he might run forward, try to help, but the grip on his arm grew tighter and more painful and the gun knocked against his head.

"Shock collar," Frank said with a smile as the light turned red and Eliot was left breathing heavily on the floor, "Made special just for Spencer."

The light went on again, longer, bringing Eliot all the way to the floor.

"Do exactly as your told, or we'll see how long it takes for that thing to kill him."

With those words, the gun was removed, but almost immediately, there was darkness. A rough, imperfect, darkness. A bag thrown over his head, and two strong forms on either side were half-dragging Harry away.

Out of the building, into a vehicle, the same guys who had been dragging him pressed close on either side.

They didn't drive for very long - not more than an hour, but long enough and with enough turns that it wouldn't be easy for the others to track them from their last location. And they had to be on the way by now. Hardison and Breanna would have used the earbud GPS before they were destroyed, or maybe be tracking their phones.

There would be a Brick and Basil truck en route to where they had just been, and hopefully soon after to wherever they were going now.

When they finally stopped, Harry was manhandled once more, bringing him across a hard floor, into another building, an elevator, and then, at last, into a wooden chair.

The bag was whipped off, and across from him, behind a large, fake mahogany desk, was a man he knew perfectly well.

"Austin," Harry greeted, adopting the false pleasantry he always did with clients, "I'd love to say it was a pleasure, but..."

He nodded to the goons stood either side, taking that motion as a chance to look for Eliot.

Not in this room. A small office with two doors, the desk, some chairs, a mini fridge, and a large conference TV screen.

A bit of a downgrade from this former client's upmarket business address with its tropical fish tank and wet bar.

"Harry Wilson," the man smiled coldly, "You're a hard man to find."

Harry shrugged noncommittally, "What do you want, Austin?"

"I need you to do a job for me. I have a certain legal matter that needs taking care of, and the lawyer I had hired is, quite frankly, not worth the air he breaths. I need you to make an airtight case for me and present it in court," he pushed a pile of documents across the desk, "Everything you need is here. You have three days. This office..."

"No," Harry cut him off. He had worked for this guy before. He had helped him cover his tracks after he destroyed the lives of several of his workers and interns, leading to the suicide of one. This man was one of the long list of regrets burdening Harry's mind. He was two bullet points on the redemption list.

Harry would not work for him again.

"I expected you may say that," Austin stood, walked around the desk towards the screen. The goons rotated Harry's chair, forcing him to turn to watch.

"That's why I have invested in this incentive."

He used a small remote to turn the screen on, and after a second of blackness, a video feed was displayed, showing Eliot with his hands handcuffed to a metal loop fixed to the floor. It looked like a basement, but it was difficult to tell.

Austin pulled out his phone, and a few seconds later, that collar glowed blue again, electrocuting Eliot as he knelt chained to the floor.

And not just a short warning. It didn't stop. Austin wasn't going to stop unless-

"Okay!" Harry yelled, and the collar turned red, leaving Eliot unmoving on the floor, "Okay. I'll do it."

Austin smiled, "Good man. Now, as I was saying, those are the files. There's paper, pens and so on in the desk drawers. Water and food in the fridge. Bathroom through that door. You have three days."

He moved towards the door, the goons following.

"Oh, and if you fail to deliver..."

On the screen, Eliot was subjected to another shock, his body tensing, but nothing more. Harry wasn't even sure he was conscious.

"These gentlemen," Austin nodded to the goons, "Will wait outside. Their colleagues will be with Spencer."

He left, the door was locked, and the screen was left turned on, Eliot still not moving.

Harry spent about an hour searching the office and bathroom for anything that could be useful to escape. Weapons, air vent...anything.

But, predictably, there was nothing. And, even if there had been something, if Harry made an attempt, there were still those other hitters with Eliot, and no way Harry could get there in time to save him.

Harry was just going to have to play along for now. Get to work, start building a case...as a last resort, he would do what Austin asked. He would pull out all the past evil lawyer tricks, hopefully then get Eliot and himself back to safety, and Leverage could deal with the aftermath.

But that was a worst case.

Hardison, Breanna, Parker and Sophie would definitely find them before that. They had three days, and a collective set of skills beyond anything Harry had known or imagined before meeting them.

Three days was more than enough time for Leverage to track people down.

Harry kept this in mind as he spent the first day, working at the case, trying to ignore the itching of his conscience.

There was one moment, towards the end of that day, that robbed Harry of all his forced focus.

He hadn’t expected to see Eliot being treated well, but without cause - Harry had been doing as he had been told - two of the hitters from before had entered the room to amuse themselves.

Harry had no way to contact anyone. He couldn’t get to Austin to convince him to make them stop, refusing to work unless they did. But he didn’t really have the leverage. They were hurting Eliot, but not killing him, and it was within Austin’s power to let them do so.

Harry watched until the hitters disappeared from view and Eliot was left unconscious on the floor, blood pooling beneath his head from the repeated blows they’d delivered to his face.

And, facing the screen so he could see when Eliot woke up, Harry turned on the desk lamp and resumed the arduous task of figuring out how to help the rich and powerful crush those they had wronged.

He had no awareness of falling asleep. At some point, near midnight, he lay his head on his arms, just to try and let his eyes rest…just a bit.

He woke to a hand on his shoulder, a whispered voice in his ear.

“Harry.”

It was Eliot, crouched beside his chair, watching him with evident concern.

The collar was still on, and in places it was shining with blood that seemed to come from Eliot's lip and cheek. The handcuffs were on, but the chain between them broken, links draping on Harry’s shoulder.

"Harry," he repeated as Harry was still registering the situation and deciding whether or not it was a dream, "You alright?"

The hand on his arm was very real. Strong and familiar. And Harry probably couldn't accurately dream the fine details of the collar that he could see now up close.

Harry broke into a smile, "Better now. You're a good person to be kidnapped with."

That drew a small laugh from the hitter, his teeth showing bloody, "Ain't my first rodeo. You good to go?”

Harry nodded and quickly began gathering up all the documents on the case - it could come in handy later.

“What’s that?” Eliot nodded to the folder.

“The reason we’re here,” Harry replied, “And better off in our hands than his.”

“Former client?”

Harry wasn’t sure how Eliot knew, but they didn’t really have time to get into that, so he just nodded and followed Eliot towards the door.

"We have an exit?"

"We're gonna make one."

"What about..."

The collar.

Eliot had stood and moved to the door already, was looking out into the corridor.

"Looks like only some of the guards can set it off," Eliot replied quietly, "Took out the four who grabbed us. Hopefully we don' run into any others, but if we do..."

He paused, looking back at Harry.

"If we do an' I'm incapacitated, you gotta run."

"I can't just leave..."

"Yeah you can," Eliot tapped his arm and moved towards the door, not allowing any further arguments.

Harry followed closely, trusting Eliot to know when to freeze and when to move, and they managed to get into a stairwell without meeting any guards. Their luck ended there, but only for a moment or two. Only for as long as it took for Eliot to disarm and knock out the three guards they met as they moved down ten flights of stairs, and out into a carport.

No one there. Cameras, but no people, and no cars.

"What now?" Harry whispered, "You know where we are?"

"No. We gotta get somewhere crowded. Somewhere with people," Eliot replied, "We can lift a phone an' call the others."

"I don't think we need to," Harry smiled as he saw a familiar set of headlights approaching from the other direction. Eliot turned and broke into his own smile, bloody toothed, but just as relieved as Harry's.

As if summoned by willpower alone, a Brick and Basil truck stopped just outside the building. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if there had been some sort of planned dramatic entrance that culminated in such a welcome and timely appearance.

But they didn’t exit immediately in a dramatic, heroic manner. They were still inside the truck, probably planning their entrance, hadn't seen Harry and Eliot, based on the various screams, gasps, and almost punch that were thrown their way when Eliot opened the back doors.

"And here we busted our asses trying to get here quick as hell," Hardison complained teasingly, grabbing Eliot into a hug as they entered, "Coulda stayed in bed."

"Everyone okay?" Sophie asked, looking them both over, "Breanna? Can we get whatever that is off Eliot?"

"On it..." she immediately began inspecting the collar, while Parker picked the handcuffs, muttering something about more lock picking practice, and keeping hold of Eliot's hand for longer than necessary.

Harry was grateful for the cup of coffee Sophie produced and shoved into his hands, ushering him into the front with her so Hardison could set off driving, getting them the hell out of there.

"Who took you?" she asked.

"Former client," Harry said, drinking the coffee down more quickly than he should, "Wanted me to do a case for him, and used Eliot as leverage."

"Someone we need to take out?" Hardison asked.

Harry considered.

The court case would probably lead to twenty five years in jail if Austin lost...the man was practically already taken out as it was. Provided he lost the case. Harry knew who the prosecution team were, he knew the case, he had more than enough information in the folder alone…

Harry smiled, "I think I will take him out myself."

And he would make sure the team, especially Eliot, were at the trial. After all, they needed The Gloat.

-

[trekscribbles]

The Bushwhack Job: Chapter Fourteen

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

(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.)

Eliot hit the ground forearm-first, rolling along the left side of his body to spare himself as much pain as possible. Lancaster’s shot went high—he heard it thud into the wall, well past the desk he’d landed beneath—but his attention was on the sound of Parker’s footsteps as she broke from cover. One, two, three... The door crashed open, and Lancaster’s answering shot came four seconds too late.

Parker was safe. The rest, he’d figure out.

The radio buzzed against the floor in the middle of the lobby, and he heard a muffled, “Ford, I have Parker. Come around to the front. Lancaster’s still inside with Spencer.”

Thank God for J.B. He really didn’t know how he was going to repay him.

“Hear that?” Eliot called. “Now it’s just you and me. We can still walk out of here before the police show up.”

“No one’s walking out,” Lancaster said. “But you’re right about one thing: we don’t have time to play. Stand up. I won’t shoot, I just want to talk to you face to face.”

Eliot snorted. “Somehow, I’m doubting your sincerity.”

“I give you my word.”

That was as good as useless, but if Eliot wanted to keep him talking long enough to chance an escape, he had to play along. “All right,” he said, sucking in a fortifying breath before straightening behind the desk. His right leg throbbed, and he could feel the blood soaking into his jeans—another pair of Sunny’s ruined. He’d never pay her back at this rate.

Lancaster stood across the room, his derringer aimed at Eliot’s chest. “See you worked your hands free,” Eliot said, rolling his shoulders. “What took you so long? We shouldn’t have been able to beat you down the stairs.”

Lancaster grinned. “I had to stop at my safe. Didn’t want this to get caught up in the explosion.”

He lifted a gun belt, and Eliot snorted. “Don’t you think you’re taking this cowboy thing a little too far?”

“This isn’t a cowboy thing,” Lancaster sneered. “This is a Colt Model 1860 Army Percussion Revolver, owned by Jesse James himself when he rode with the Quantrill Raiders. I bought it for $230,000, but I figured once I found the James treasure, it would sell for twice that.”

A flicker of color outside caught Eliot’s eye: police lights. Their sirens joined the wail of the alarm, and Eliot did his best to push the noise to the back of his mind. “Hard to dig up a treasure on someone else’s property,” he said.

“Well, with you out of the way, that won’t be much of a problem.”

Eliot eased a step backward, shuffling to keep from putting too much pressure on his right leg. “You don’t know Sunny June very well.”

“I don’t need to,” Lancaster said. “That’s the beauty of money. You never have to get your hands dirty.”

“Until now,” Eliot said.

“Until now.” Lancaster lifted the gun, sighting down his arm and closing one eye. “A fact I’m about to remedy.”

Eliot braced himself to turn and run, but Lancaster didn’t shoot. Instead, he bent his knees, set the gun at his feet, and slid it across the floor toward Eliot.

“Pick it up,” he said.

Eliot stared at him. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Shooting at the range is one thing,” Lancaster said, sliding the gun belt off his shoulder and fastening it around his waist. “But I’ve always wanted to know how I’d measure up in a real gun fight.”

“Your gun is 150 years old,” Eliot said. “And mine has a range of like seven yards. Not exactly worthy of the O.K. Corral.”

“You scared?” Lancaster needled.

Eliot laughed. “That don’t work on professionals, hoss. I got nothing to prove to you.”

“Then put it this way.” Lancaster spun the cylinder on his revolver, sliding bullets in as he spoke. “I’m shooting either way. You can pick up that gun and defend yourself, or stand there and take a bullet. Doesn’t matter to me.”

Fire sirens joined the cacophony of alarms, but no one was coming inside. Waiting for the bomb squad, probably—he had to keep stalling. Slowly, he lowered himself into a crouch and reached for the derringer, his eyes on Lancaster’s right hand. He’d holstered the gun and stood with his feet planted wide, grinning.

“How do you see this going down?” Eliot asked. 

Lancaster flexed his hands. “You pick up the gun. It’s already loaded, but you’ll need to cock the hammer. Stand with it at your side, and then we draw. Fastest man wins.”

“Speed’s got nothing to do with it if you can’t land a hit,” Eliot said.

“Then I guess we’re about to test your aim.”

Great—Eliot had no idea if he could shoot. Probably, given his other skills, but it would be just his luck that guns weren’t one of the weapons he was apparently proficient with. But even if he could shoot, even if he could manage to hit Lancaster at the edge of the derringer’s range, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Whatever he’d done in the past, whoever he’d been before… he didn’t want to be a killer. Parker had trusted him to follow her out, and if killed Lancaster now…

He wasn’t sure how much of himself would stay behind.

“On three?” Eliot asked. He’d picked up the gun, frowning at the feel of the short handle in his palm, but was careful to keep it pointed away from Lancaster. 

“So you can shoot on two?” Lancaster said. “You’re not getting inside my head, Spencer. Just draw.”

“It’s not really drawing if I don’t have a holster,” Eliot muttered. He lifted the gun carefully, keeping it at his hip as he rose on his good leg.

“There’s no talking your way out of this one,” Lancaster said, sneering. “Either way, you’re not getting out of this alive.”

Eliot went still. “Either way?”

Lancaster’s fingers twitched, and his gaze darted toward a clock on the wall over Eliot’s head. “You think you’re the only one who can stall?”

Alarms and sirens screamed. Eliot’s heart pounded, sending stabs of adrenaline through him—but no fear. Time was up, and he was getting out. 

He’d made a promise.

“You assumed I had to call to set off the bombs,” Lancaster said, misinterpreting his silence. “That ain’t the only way to do it. I would’ve taken a long lunch, only to come back and find the evil Mr. Ford had made good on his threats again—but this will work. You’ve got about ten seconds to decide whether you want to go out with a bang or a bullet.”

Eliot fired. He aimed high, hoping to take Lancaster by surprise, make him flinch—hoping to steal an extra second while he turned for the door. Lancaster’s gun clicked behind him—a misfire—the idiot had probably tried using the ammunition in the gun belt. He didn’t look over his shoulder to see if Lancaster was following. He fixed his eyes on the doors—on the golden hair he could see beyond them.

The explosion started above them. Without the charges in the basement, the building shook, but held—windows burst overhead, raining glass down on the sidewalk outside. The firefighters and police flinched at the sound, hurrying to usher spectators out of the way. Eliot’s leg gave out and he stumbled, caught himself on one hand, and ran on. He was ten feet away—seven, five, two.

The next charges blew as his hand hit the door, and the force of the blast threw it open, glass shattering around him. He lost his feet, crashing into the sidewalk as heat exploded against his back, and then something hit his head—

[fanoftheimagines]

Protector, Fixer

Pairing: Harry Wilson/Reader

Reader Gender: Gender Neutral

CW: undescribed con, evil bad guy, brief fighting, protective reader, Eliot wants to keep his family safe, worried Harry, getting kidnapped, brief torture, protective Eliot, medically inaccurate injuries, bit of awkward dialogue I don’t care to fix, Harry is oblivious sometimes but we love him anyway

Word Count: 1019

Summary: Protecting your resident fixer was more important than your safety. Even if Harry disagreed.

A/N: I’m hyperfixating on Leverage and dying for more Harry fics. I sometimes struggle to write plot-heavy things, so apologies in advance. It’s a bit short, but I had fun writing it!

Masterlist | AO3

There was always something. A mistimed guard. An escape. Eliot too far for immediate backup. You and Harry with the damning file. Harry and you rushed down the halls, his hand gripped tightly in yours. Breanna’s voice directed you.

Your heart dropped as the goon stepped into the hallway. Shit. You pushed Harry behind you on instinct. “Eliot, we’ve got trouble.” You said into your coms. You glanced over your shoulder at Harry and handed him the file. The file that would prove Reynolds’ embezzlement. “Take the files. Get out. Now.”

Harry stared at you for a beat. His face screwed like he wanted to argue with you.

“I’m on my way.” Eliot growled through coms. “Keep ‘em occupied. Harry, get to the truck.”

He nodded and grabbed the file. Then, he took off down the hallway behind you. He’d find another way out. The goon took a step forward. You rolled your shoulders and got into the stance Eliot had taught you a long time ago.

The goon was easily twice your size. Practically a mountain of a man. And the fight was brutal. You got in a few solid hits. But one solid hit to the face and it all went black.

The world came back in a violent haze. It spun and shifted with your blurry vision and ringing ears. Your head pounded – just behind your eyes – and your cheek radiated a throbbing pain. Blood on your lips. Some on your forehead too. Fuck, you felt like you got punched by Eliot.

You groaned. A voice – familiar and urgent – danced outside your understanding. You blinked a few times, and forced yourself to focus. You vision cleared with each blink. Basement. Stacked boxes and concrete walls were a dead giveaway. The familiar urgent voice said something you couldn’t quite make out again. You tried to lift your hand, but couldn’t. Ropes. Tied to a chair, then. Great. Just great.

“Y/N? Please wake up.” Harry’s voice finally came through. “Y/N? Come on, please? Please wake up.”

“Harry?” You groaned, your head still spinning slightly. “My head hurts.”

His voice came again over coms. You could practically see his face creased in worry. “I know. I know.” He soothed. “Just hang tight, okay? Eliot’s already on his way.”

“We blown?” You whispered, testing the ropes again.

“Just you and Harry.” Sophie replied.

Before you could reply, Reynolds – the evil CEO of a healthcare company – and the same goon from earlier walked in. “Shit.” You whispered. “This is gonna get bloody.”

“Ah! Look who’s awake!” Reynolds smiled sinisterly and walked toward you as he wagged his finger. “You, you tried to steal from me.” He glanced at the goon. “I want to know who they work for.”

The goon nodded and started to roll up his sleeves. “You got it, boss.” And with that, Reynolds walked back out. Fuck, this is gonna hurt.

The first hit knocked the wind out of you. A blow to the ribs. You groaned. Another to the cheek.

“Who do you work for?” The goon yelled in your face.

“Fuck you.”

The next hit never came. As the fist came, an arm caught it. Eliot’s snarled face came up over his shoulder. And as he pulled him away, you let yourself slump into the chair. Thank god for Eliot.  

You sucked in a breath through your teeth as Eliot finished wrapping your ribs. He’d gotten you out alive and only slightly banged up. A butterfly bandage on your forehead, a bruise on your cheek, a split lip, and a set of bruised ribs. Not the worse you’d had, not the worse than the others had. Still hurt though.

“Thanks, El.” You half-smiled and winced immediately, as Eliot stood. “I appreciate the patch up.”

“Always.” He nodded, cleaning up the mess of medical supplies on the table in front of you. “Just next time, run. Don’t try to fight like that.”

You made eye contact with him. “You know why I did it.”

“I do. That’s why I’m telling you not to do something stupid like that again.” He looked pained, worried. He was always concerned when it came to protecting you. You knew he knew what you were feeling back there.

“Harry –“ You started, but stopped short as the man in question walked in. You and Eliot shot each other a quick look.

“You called?” Harry asked. His forehead creased slightly with concern. Eliot walked out.

“Hey!” You gave him a small smile. “How are you doing?”

“Me?” Harry asked incredulously. “I’m fine. You’re the one who got beat up.” He held up a bag of frozen peas and sat next to you. “May I?” You gave a small nod and he gently placed the peas to your cheek. Cool relief came instantly. You let out a soft sigh as the cold hit your skin. “You know, I still don’t know why you did that back there.”

You chuckled despite the pain in your ribs. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you know. Everyone else figured it out, hell, I think Breanna just won the bet.”

“Wait, you think I’m cute?” Harry’s eyes widened and a blush crept up his cheeks.

“Obviously. Why do you think I always try to protect you?”

“Well, I assumed it was because I was on the team.” He chuckled. “But now I’m thinking there’s a lot more to it than that.”

You smiled at him fondly. Your Mr. Wilson, so bright yet so oblivious sometimes. “And what do you think that is?”

“You like me.” His eyes crinkled in the way it always did when he was really happy. And he was holding back a laugh.

“More than I’d like to admit.” Your voice turned soft with an unspoken love. That thing you’d buried deep. It had come out in smaller moments before, and had started to fester after only a few months into his redemption journey.

His eyes searched your face, as if looking for the lie. After a moment, he softly asked, “Can I take you to dinner? When you’re all healed up, I mean.”

“It’s a date.”

Do not copy to another site. Ask for permission before bookbinding. I EXPLICITLY FORBID ANYONE FROM FEEDING MY FICS TO AI. All rude comments will be blocked and deleted.

Buy me a coffee?

[qwanderer]

Woke up real early this morning just incidentally and was like "well this is as good a time as any to watch the new lev red ep tbh"

Hopefully I did not squeak too loud and wake up my neighbors

Eeeeeeeeeeeheeheeee I love it. I love what they’re doing with this season! Like the depth and seriousness behind the episodes thus far have made me go "ohh it's like original leverage is back!" But I didn't realize how much I still wanted to see the goofiness of leverage redemption until this one, like the dueling horror tropes? Parker in her park ranger uniform? Prime lev red! So much fun.

And ok obviously I don't need the showrunners to try and please everyone, that's not gonna result in a coherent story, but man am I digging the cheeky ambiguity of the way they're treating the polyamory situation!

I am still not sure if I have been technically jossed. Worked out an overlap on the venn diagram for Sophie's story, let's say in my fic that her story in this episode is about her trying out polyamory and finding it didn't suit her. Whereas for nate/sophie/sterling shippers she's talking about an old familiar comfortable concept.

To know if I've got a small technical issue on the pardicer front, I'll need to search my fic to figure out if they've ever used the term "polycule" as opposed to "polyamory," "life partners," "triad," other terms I know they've used. But honestly this would not be a major continuity issue in the scheme, like I have worse ones going on with Eliot's hair because I forgot one of Moreau's lines early on. Parker forgets people's names. Nudging this line towards "Wait is this a term we use" is not gonna be a hard gap to bridge.

I would love a confirmation that pardicer are dating, or are queerplatonic, or just some continuing cheeky ambiguity. Like, this is the stuff I built my pardicer empire on.

[asterlark]

just rewatched the broken wing job recently and am thinking about how in the grave danger job we see parker admitting she needs hardison, and then in the broken wing job we see her acknowledge (just to herself, but still) that she also needs to be needed. she wants to be integral to the team, wants them to miss her, to not function without her. which is just so real and so emblematic of an assortment of insecurities in parker that i don't think we talk about enough: being left behind, forgotten, not useful or needed, left out of the group (hashtag relatable autism things).

(sidenote- this is the first in a series of season 5 episodes that don't feature the full crew tackling a job, which really shows how far they've come as a team that they can work so effectively in smaller numbers. it also shows their trust in each other to do their own jobs well, and to adapt when needed. i just think it's neat)

this episode is great for a lot of reasons, one of them being that we learn a lot about how parker functions when she needs help from others- that is to say, not well, at least not at first. after a conversation with eliot (and it feels significant that it's eliot, not sophie, that she talks to here when she's freaking out; the trust and intimacy there is palpable), she realizes she has to adapt and change her typical planning process to successfully catch the thieves.

the plot device of having her do a job by herself + needing to team up with amy is so clever because it also serves as a great vehicle for character development. what does parker want in this episode? she wants something to do, she wants to not be injured, she wants to not have to lean on anyone or ask for help, she wants to feel needed. enter Thieves, who are the type that will get someone hurt in their process. suddenly she has a job, people to protect, but she can't do it on her own. she is needed, but she also needs. she has to adapt, and change- and we see her do this not just by asking for amy's help, but by calling the team and asking for their help too.

by the end of the episode, she has grown enough to have asked several people for help in her plan, and has adapted to her limitations and turned them into advantages, as eliot advises her to do. but when nate asks, she says nothing about the job she did- which i think is interesting. i think it's because she doesn't want them to worry about her or berate her for trying to take down two thieves with guns while healing a torn ACL. it's also probably partially because when she asks about japan, the team says it was normal and boring, to spare her feelings about being left out. so when they ask her, she says nothing.

she's not stupid, though, and neither are the team- nate notices the bullet holes in the wall, and i'm sure the others do too at some point. (plus the pub staff is probably not gonna just leave out the fact that there was a fire alarm and several gunshots and a wounded cop in the pub while they were gone?) parker knows it's only a matter of time before they're aware she's lying. this is a great example of how much the team trusts each other! they notice that parker is not telling the full truth, but since things seem to be resolved, they trust her to have handled it. and she trusts them not to push her on her lie, just as she's not pushing them for info on the japan job.

this team is not without its secrets, but in this case i think it's more about trusting each other to speak up when it's needed. almost all of them got a call from parker this episode, so at this point they know she can and will ask them for help when she needs to. they give each other space to have lives away from each other, but they also trust that if there's a problem, it will be brought up and dealt with. which is so far from the juror no.6 job in season 1 when parker was doing things without thinking of/ informing the crew, or even the inside job in season 3 when she took on an impossible job on her own without telling them. they've grown so much by season 5, and it shows.

anyway. ramble over, i just love this show and this episode in particular and will always thank the leverage writers for giving us a parker-centric ep with strong character development!!!