#hardison could go two ways

[chariothart]

committed crimes

murder / manslaughter / assault / robbery / breaking & entering / theft / embezzlement / money-laundering / kidnapping / torture / blackmail / arson / trespassing / treason / libel or slander / obstruction of justice / lying to law enforcement / creation of a weapon / espionage / riot / escape from lawful custody / contempt of court / public intoxication / conspiracy / accessory to a crime / harboring a fugitive / bribery / perjury under oath / resisting arrest / identity theft / corporate fraud / tax fraud / document forgery / destruction of evidence / assassination / counterfeiting / sale of a controlled substance / purchase of a controlled substance / failure to pay child support / hacking crimes / threats / pick-pocketing / shoplifting

[hedgiwithapen]

DHD: Leverage daemon au

(confession: I read the first 80% of golden compass in 2006 while waiting for christmas and thus new books and never finished it, so my rules for worldbuilding now!) Some things, everyone knows. Like how to breathe, and just as important. Separating hurts. Nothing cut can be made whole. Daemons don’t settle twice. Everyone in the business knew that Eliot Spencer’s Daemon had settled as an American black bear, and that Marron could kill just as viciously as he did.  Everyone deep in the business knew that he was Moreau’s right hand. Everyone in the business knew that Moreau’s best men were Severed.

Nate had never asked where Marron was, and neither had Sophie, though neither of them knew everything about his time with Moreau. He guessed they’d figured out something as close to the truth as anyone was going to guess, even Moreau. None but the two of them knew the truth, that Marron had run to save them both. That Marron had come back, a scruffy mongrel with a broken banner of a tail. She kept her distance the first few jobs, waiting in the Shadows. Eliot could always feel her there, just as strong as if she’d been only a few feet away. That wasn’t supposed to be how things worked, but no one had told Marron that. Parker, though, had noticed right away. “Like us,” she’d said, eyes flicking skyward. Rhodonite had settled as a Kestral young, after the first stint in Juvie. They’d agreed without needing to speak, aloud or otherwise, about it. That was how they worked. Who could say who’s idea anything they did was? They were the same, and neither of them suffered cages or locked doors lightly. “No,” Eliot had said, uncertain how much was a lie. “No,” Parker had returned. “You’re like us. It was safer. They don’t get that.” She was right about that. Hardison’s Chip, and Nate’s Vianney almost never left their shoulders. When Chip had to, it was usually to a pocket, and Vianney, though she could fly some distance away when a con called for it, preferred to stay as close as possible, where she could bite Nate’s ear, or preen his hair, depending on just how much of an ass he was being. It was easier to hide a pika than a parrot, unfortunately, but they always made do.  Remy helped with that. Remy had introduced himself when Nate had introduced Sophie to the team, a soft mink draped over a shoulder. “Remy. It’s short for anything you can think of,” he’d said, sliding off Sophie’s arm to investigate, shifting into a sleek, dark cat. He’d been Rembrant, Reminiscent, Remolade, Remnant; everything from a mobster’s coiled snake to a street rat’s street rat. It never bothered him what his name was, or what hers was--Sophie, Katherine, Charlotte, Laura. Names were as changeable as the color of her hair, the shade of his eyes.  “She never settles, so I don’t see why I have to. If you have a problem with that, I’ll bite you.” “I’ll bite you, too,” Sophie had laughed, a deadly glint in her eye. “So, Nate, what’s the score? What finally got you to try my side of the board?” The money had been good. The understanding--or at least, the hiding of judgment, was better. They’d split off and found their way back, again, again.

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Cross My Heart Job

leverage 4.09

(team comes down an escalator toward the main floor)

Sophie: Well, that trip was a complete disaster.

Hardison: It was a train wreck.

Eliot: No, it was a shipwreck. And you know how I know that? 'Cause I was in the wreck.

Hardison: Hey, man, I don't want to hear you complain. At least you don't have to fix th-the ear buds. You know what?

Eliot: Man, don't talk to me about the ear buds! I just fought three ex-Brazilian combat divers with spear-guns, underwater!

Hardison: I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it.

Eliot: You believe this? (taps Sophie’s arm)

Sophie: Ow, don't touch me. I am sunburnt everywhere. I hate playing the French heiress on the topless beach.

Parker: Oh, I don't know what you're complaining about. I didn't even get to see the emerald.

Hardison: Are you for real?

Eliot: Oh, my god, for the last time, it's not an emerald. All right? It's an island. It's the "Emerald of the Caribbean."

chaotic family on an escalator

- - - - -

Parker: The heart could be anywhere by now. They could have jumped in a taxi and driven off.

Sophie: No, no, we have to assume it's still in the airport, that they're planning to fly it out.

Parker: Why?

Eliot: 'Cause otherwise, we've already lost

- - - - -

Eliot: All right. They're in there. We're gonna need a distraction.

(Sophie takes off her pants and uses her long shirt like a dress, then shakes out her hair and pulls a pair of heels from her purse. Parker counts some cash)

Parker: All right, they told Linda to call from a pay phone for instructions once she made the drop.

Eliot (hands Parker money): Better hurry up, or they're gonna start getting suspicious.

Parker: It's a good thing we didn't stay on that island to see those emeralds.

Eliot: Parker, I just t...

(Sophie leans on Eliot to put on her shoes)

Eliot: You carry high heels in your purse?

Sophie: I always travel with heels. (takes Parker’s scarf and ties it around her waist) How's this? Distracting enough?

Parker: Hmm.

parker and eliot both look away, partially to give her privacy but partially to act as a wall so that other people won’t see her changing

notice the stark contrast between this scene and the other changing scene in this episode

- - - - -

(the clerk closes the doors. Inside, Eliot pulls the kidnapper between two tables while Parker talks to Tanya)

Paker: Yeah, that will work. We'll get you a little taser, carry it with you wherever you go-

parker and her tasers + being surprisingly good with kids

- - - - -

Nate (to Eliot): What do you got on this guy?

Eliot: He's not a professional. He has no combat training. Lousy Zanshin.

Parker: The what?

Eliot: He's a loc... It means "personal awareness." Thug for hire, but very well funded. (hands Nate tickets) Two first-class tickets, one for him and one for the girl, and that's how they got past security, and (hands gun to Nate) plastic gun. One or two shots in the barrel warps, but that's pretty much all you need, very pricey hardware.

Parker: Why would someone pay for that but not hire a professional?

Eliot: He doesn't want a professional. He wants a local so we can't trace him back to him.

- - - - -

(Eliot uses a cord to tie the kidnapper’s hands)

Eliot (to Sophie): Don't suppose you travel with handcuffs.

Sophie: No, not on this trip.

👀👀👀

- - - - -

Parker: Plus the ear buds are busted.

Hardison: And I burned our phones and our credit cards so we can't be traced.

Sophie: Most of our money went on bribing the waiter.

Eliot: We're operating in a secured area.

Parker: And my lock picks are checked.

Hardison: And airport wi-fi is a joke. Face it, we're practically naked.

- - - - -

(Eliot and Parker walk out of the Restaurant and part ways. Parker approaches a kiosk that sells computers and looks around, then crouches to look at the locks before walking away. Eliot approaches an electronic store before yelling catches his attention from a check in desk not far away)

Platinum Flyer: You guys! Hey! Platinum flyer over here. Come here. Somebody look at me.

Airline Clerk: Sir, please calm down.

Platinum Flyer: Ju... let me stop you right there, okay? I don't care what seats you have left, all right? Do you see this? (holds up a card) I am a vista Atlantic platinum flyer, all right? Is this card gold? No. Look at it. Is it silver? No.

(Eliot looks around, sees a magazine and picks it up)

Platinum Flyer: It's platinum, all right? So if you think that I am sitting back in coach with the rabble, you got another think coming, all right?

(Eliot puts the magazine over the Platinum Flyer’s briefcase as the man tries to drop his wallet into it)

Platinum Flyer: You can just forget it. I don't even want to talk to you anymore. Who's that? Thing one and thing two, come here. You guys. Hey!

(Eliot walks back to the electronics store and pulls the Platinum Flyer’s credit card from the wallet. He enters the store and grabs several packages of walkie talkies, then flags down a clerk)

Eliot: Yo, yo, yo. Come over here.

(Parker tries on various sunglasses, stealing a pair before walking away. She walks past again and steals a snow globe. On another pass she steals a bag. She returns to the computer kiosk and breaks the sunglasses to picks the locks, revealing an old style CRT monitor)

all this competence porn, it’s SO GOOD

- - - - -

(later Parker and Eliot take apart the walkie talkies at a table while Hardison uses an old computer at the bar with Sophie and Linda watching while Nate paces)

Nate: Hardison, come on.

Hardison: Look, man, this is like stone knives and bearskins, okay? Nobody's asking Eliot to fight a guy with a nerf sword.

Eliot: Damascus, 2002.

Hardison: Like you've been to Damascus.

domestic parker and eliot taking apart walkie talkies? eliot legit sword fighting with a nerf sword? amazing

- - - - -

(the clerk watches from behind them, amazed)

Hardison: Wh-what? Come on, man. Like you've never seen a man travel with a desktop before. Go.

LMAO

- - - - -

Nate: Right there! Right there. Him.

Sophie: Dean Chesney?

Nate: Dean Chesney, CEO of Vertronics defense contractor. I had my eye on him for quite a while, but he was never a high-priority target.

Hardison: Why not?

Nate: He was dying.

- - - - -

(Eliot sits down and his feet hit against the struggling kidnapper. Eliot kicks him in the head but he continues making muffled sounds)

Nate: Are you done?

(Eliot kicks the man again)

Eliot: Yeah

- - - - -

Hardison: After we get out of the public areas of the terminal, we work on level two. It's ground crew, tarmac access. It gets us from here to the private terminal.

Parker: How do we get that? Break Eliot's wrist?

Hardison: What? N-no, no. We just pick one up from where the ground crew left it.

[Locker Room]

Parker (opening combination lock): Yeah, this will keep my stuff safe, from a 6-year-old with the DTs.

(Parker opens the locker and removes a jacket. Eliot closes the locker and hits the lock on the one next to it, opening the lock. He pulls out a level 2 badge and hands it to Parker)

Eliot: That's two.

(Parker and Eliot begin to change clothes)

🔥🔥🔥 scene tho 🔥🔥🔥

also, notice how they start getting changed without turning around or anything, like hardison would have immediately turned around because that’s who he is. she literally immediately takes her shirt off without a care. he doesn’t even blink at it. eliot and parker have a very strong, nonverbal, physical bond because they’re similar entities. they understand each other on a deep level because of their pasts and there isn’t that type of need for modesty between them.

also they’re literally so close to each other when they’re doing this??? literally, personal space? they don’t know her

ALSO, eliot throws his shirt at the camera and idk it feels like he’s giving parker privacy from the “onlookers” (aka the camera) if you get what I’m saying,,,

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, we have to lure them out.

Parker: Oh, okay. Set Nate on fire?

Eliot: Settle down

she mouths “no” back at him and they have a silent exchange where she ends up smiling I love them

- - - - -

Hardison (pacing): Come on, Eliot. Come on, come on. Come on, man.

Announcer: Mr. Picard. Mr. Kirk Picard, please meet your party at door "E.

ELIOT KNOWS HOW TO GET HARDISONS ATTENTION. HE KNOWS TO MAKE A STAR TREK REFERENCE AND BAM HARDISON KNOWS WHATS UP. WHAT D O R K S

- - - - -

(Eliot gets into a cart that Parker is sitting in. She holds up the keys and hands them to him)

Parker: Let's ride

her SMILE and EXCITEMENT

- - - - -

Hardison: Excuse me. Uh, something's wrong with my pin. Can you reset it for me?

(Hardison hands the card to the guard, who scans it)

Guard: Can you confirm your old pin?

(the screen shows that the card belongs to a woman and the guard looks at Hardison in surprise)

Guard: Uh...

Hardison: What?

Guard: Wh—

Hardison: what? You got a, you got a problem? My little transformation? Go on, speak your mind. Yeah, I had some surgery, huh? A little nip, a little tuck, a little pop, okay? And now I am who I'm supposed to be. I used to be Francesca. Now my name is Frank!

Guard: Um...

(a second guard turns to look at Hardison)

Hardison: You got a problem? You... excu—excu—I didn't know this was the club. You all up in the mix, don't even know the flavor. What's your problem? (walks around the desk aggressively) You got a, you—everybody got a problem with this? Look, racism, sexism, anti-semitism? That's how you y'all want to play this? Cool. I thought it was a no-no in airport security, but I see y'all profilin' me right, left, and center, everywhere. You know what? Shame on you. Shame on your mama. Shame on your kids.

(Hardison glances at the monitor to see the pin number, then walks back around the desk)

Guard: I-it's fine. I-it's fine. I got no problem with anything. Uh, it-it looks like you used to, used to be a-a really pretty girl.

Hardison: Used to be?

Guard: A-and n-now you're a-a very handsome gentleman.

Hardison: You hitting on me?

Guard: C-can you confirm your old pin?

Hardison: It's 5135.

Guard: Uh. (scans the card) Okay, there. Try that.

Hardison: Thank you. (looks at second guard) You better re-adjust your peripherals.

Guard 2: Real smooth.

(Hardison returns to the card reader and scans the card, entering the pin)

Reader: Pin accepted.

Hardison: Don't care what anybody else says. Next time, I'm taking the train.

I can’t tell if this scene was transphobic or not ??? like, it could have been worse and he called out people who would be judgmental of his “transformation” ???

like there was like one other kinda transphobic thing they did in the show but I forget the episode

- - - - -

Nate: I know what you're gonna say.

Sophie: I think you should have a drink.

Nate: Okay, I didn't know what you were gonna say.

Sophie: Look, we don't like it when you drink, (pours him a drink) but we trust you when you do. We both knew this was gonna get personal. We need you to stay clear-headed. You let it get to you now, it's gonna go bad for all of us. Be very careful, Nate.

- - - - -

Nate: Sam would have been 13 this year. A teenager. Almost a man. I mean, you know, probably a big pain in the ass, but… Joshua Spin is getting out of that hospital bed.

(Sophie nods. Nate sighs and takes the drink, looking down at Sophie’s hand over his)

- - - - -

hardison’s GRIN when he sees all the computers in the tower 🥺

- - - - -

Parker: It took us 8 minutes to get there. It's gonna take us 8 minutes to get back. Wait. (goes around to the front of the cart)

Eliot: What are you doing? Wait. No way!

(Parker lies on the ground and reaches under the cart)

Eliot: Come on, Parker, we got to go! We got to get-- Let's go! What are you do-- Quit monkeying around under there!

(Parker stands up holding a piece of electronics)

Eliot: Did you just pull something out of the engine?

Parker: Yeah. Spark regulator, keeps the cart from going more than 25 miles an hour. Now we'll get there in 4 minutes.

(Eliot starts the cart and takes off quickly)

Parker: Hey! Whoa! Whoa! Yeah!

- - - - -

Nate: Last week on that island, you faked a volcanic eruption. How is this harder?

HE DID WHAT NOW

- - - - -

Nate: You just sell it to the tower.

Sophie: Massdot special?

Nate: Massdot special.

Linda: Massdot special?

Sophie: Yes! (takes Linda’s phone and makes a call)

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: National Weather Service. This is Rachel.

Sophie: Oh, thank God!

[Crab-a-Rama]

Sophie: I was just out walking my dogs, and I saw a tornado touch down!

(Nate pulls up pictures of tornadoes on the computer)

Rachael: Are you sure?

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: The current forecast don't indicate any severe-weather patterns.

Sophie: I'm sure.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Sophie: I took a photo of it with my phone. I'm sending it to you now.

(Nate sends a picture of a tornado to Rachael as he dials the phone)

[National Weather Service]

(Rachael looks at the picture in shock)

Rachael: Uh, please hold, ma'am. (places Sophie on hold and takes another call) National weather service. This is Rachel.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: Are you asleep at the wheel? There's a tornado out here by the airport right now! A freaking tornado! Come on!

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: Bill. Bill!

Bill: What is it?

Rachael: We got calls here. I think we need to issue a tornado warning for the Cincinnati metropolitan area.

- - - - -

Chesney: --to make the top of the list. This is my only chance. I've planned for months. I have eight backup contingencies. I'm fighting for my life, Mr. Ford! What are you fighting for?

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: I am fighting for that 15-year-old boy that you're going to kill.

[Chesney’s Room]

Chesney: God helps those who help themselves.

Nate: And I help people who can't.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: And God help you if anything should happen to that boy, because if he spends more than one second longer in that hospital than he needs to, I will make it my mission in life to end you.

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: I will ruin you.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: I will ruin your name. I will ruin your company. I will bring down everything you have ever touched. And when I am done, I will hunt you down--

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: --and I will kill you myself.

[Crab-a-Rama]

(Nate hangs up the phone)

- - - - -

parker yells “yee haw” a lot and I love her for that

- - - - -

Pilot: Tower, field is in sight.

Program: We have you in sight. Clear to land on runway 1-8.

Hardison: Okay, flight 4-0-9. W-we have a visual. You are clear to land on runway 1-8.

Pilot: Roger. Clear to land.

(the airplane lands safely)

Pilot: Tower, we are down.

Hardison: Yes! Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about.

Pilot: Say again, tower?

Hardison: I'm sorry. No, no, I'm sorry. It's cool. It's cool. It's cool. Celebrate with me. All right.

hardison managed to land an airplane with 300 people on it with nothing more than a computer and a flight simulator and we STAN our intelligent man

- - - - -

eliot was always standing next to hardison in all the extra scenes in this episode and we love to see it

- - - - -

(Eliot looks at Nate and Sophie, then nudges Hardison)

Eliot: Let's go.

(Eliot grabs Parker on the way down the hall, Hardison follows them)

his lil pat on hardison’s shoulder? how he places a guiding hand on parker’s arm, leading her away? we LOVE to see casual touches and casual intimacy between them

- - - - -

so hardison likes to assemble model helicopters in his spare time sometimes and nate assembles model ships in his ???

- - - - -

Chesney: So now what? You can't report me without exposing yourself. And what's to stop me from trying again?

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: I am. (hits remote to bring up information and a video feed on the monitors) I'm watching you. I'm watching your money, your people, your company. What have you got there, a pulse rate of 86?

[Chesney’s Room]

(Chesney looks around in alarm)

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Oh, look at that.

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: Just jumped up to 104. That can't be good for you.

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Make your peace now, Chesney. (continues putting model together) Because if I see anything, anything I don't like...

[Chesney’s Room]

Chesney: Well, Mr. Ford it seems you've killed me after all.

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Oh, I didn't kill you. God killed you. I just made sure it took. (hangs up)

[security-chief-odo]

The Fake Dating Job - Chapter 4

Elliot Spencer x Reader

Previous chapters: 1 2 3

Note: Thanks for your patience. My life has been crazy as of late. In exchange for bearing with me, I offer you, probably my favorite chapter so far of any of my fics.

Word count: ~3.7k

Description: You and Eliot pine for each other throughout the reception. Will your ex get in the way of your happiness?

• • •

After the ceremony, you and the rest of the bridal party are asked to hang back for photos. As the rest of the guests file into the reception hall for the cocktail hour, Eliot makes a brief detour to give you a peck on the cheek. “See you inside sweetheart.” he says softly before rejoining the rest of the guests.

Your mind occasionally wandered to Eliot throughout the photo process, whereas his mind never left you from the moment that he left the bridal suite this morning. You looked gorgeous in the dress your sister had picked out for you. Maybe he could blame the dress for why he spent more time focused on you than on the actual wedding.

Though that is the beauty of this whole plan, there would be nobody to explain it to as he was supposed to want to stare at you. There would be no moment where Hardison calls him out for staring at you for a little too long. There would be no explaining, rather lying, to Parker about how protective he gets over you on a mission. There would be no knowing look across the room from Nate or well meaning advice from Sophie. There would be nothing but his own thoughts and delusions that you would ever want him to be more than just your fake boyfriend.

When the bridal party finally makes their entrance into the reception hall, his eyes are searching for you. Despite how happy you are for your sister, a feeling of relief nearly consumes you once you find yourself by Eliot’s side once again. Though, as you make your way to the table, your relief falters slightly at the realization of who you’ll be seated near. Your ex is seated at the same table as you, only two seats away.

Eliot’s warm embrace calms you though. This is what he was here for ultimately, to be a barrier between you and your ex. To make the night go better for you. And in a small way, he was already doing just that.

After the couple shares their first dance, dinner is served. You desperately try to avoid giving your ex any attention, and Eliot makes that easy. He eats slowly, taking time between bites to shower you with little bits of affection. His hand rests on your thigh through much of the meal and you hope that the flush that crosses your cheeks isn’t too obvious in the dim lighting. You could get used to these casual touches, if only they weren’t for show.

“How’d you like the food?” you ask, hoping that a bit of small talk can keep your wishful thoughts at bay.

“It was alright.”

That response alone was very telling so you quietly finish the sentence he was too polite to complete. “But you could’ve done better?” You raise your eyebrow at him as he half nods.

“I’m just sayin’ I know what these wedding caterers charge and they should take a bit more pride in their work.”

You can’t help, but chuckle at this as the DJ announces the father daughter dance. You turn your chair towards the dance floor to watch your father and sister share this moment and Elliot does the same beside you. He wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer to him. You can’t help but lean into the touch. You probably don’t need to do as much as you are to sell the act, but damn it, if this is your only opportunity to be this close with Eliot, maybe relishing in it a little isn’t a bad thing.

After the dance, cake is served and this time Eliot has no complaints. The cake is as close to perfect as any cake could be. As you finish, you remind yourself to ask your sister where she got the cake from so you could maybe stop by the bakery on your own before you leave town.

As the dance floor opens up, you take this opportunity to go talk to your parents. You haven’t had enough time with them this weekend and you really have missed them. Ever the gentleman, Eliot insists on tagging along to properly meet them. He is far too good at this fake boyfriend thing.

You greet your parents with a warm hug. “I’ve missed you guys!” you say trying to be heard over the music. “It’s been too long.”

“And whose fault is that?” your dad asks.

Your mom nudges him and gives a disapproving glare at his bluntness. “You should visit more. Maybe then it wouldn’t have taken so long for you to introduce us to this handsome fella.”

“I’ve been telling her the same thing.” Eliot steps in with the charm offensive in full force. “I’m Eliot.” He shakes each of your parent’s hands. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All bad things I suppose?” your mom asks teasingly.

“Hardly. She’s told me so many fun stories about your family. Though maybe a few of those stories could be classified as embarrassing.”

It’s nice to see your parents get along with Eliot, though it shouldn’t matter to you. You will have a fake breakup in a few weeks and this will be nothing but a memory for both of you. A damn good one too.

You’re broken out of that train of thought when you hear your mom reply, “Oh, is that so?”

“She’s got plenty of embarrassing stories of her own.” your dad adds in. Eliot lets out a hearty laugh at the prospect.

“Oh? Any worth telling?” You bury your face in your hands in fear of the mortifying words that may come next from either of your parents.

“How about you buy me a drink and I’ll tell you anything you wanna know about our dear Y/N?” Your mom suggests.

“Gladly” Eliot guides your mom to the bar and out of your earshot as you sit with your father.

You sit in silence at first, just enjoying the shared time. Minutes pass before your father speaks again, without even looking directly at you, “He’s good for you, you know.”

You figure the best way to avoid being caught in a lie is to just stay as close to the truth as possible, so you tell your dad your real thoughts on Eliot. “I know, he’s a really nice guy. He’s funny and caring. I really love him.”

“That’s not what I mean.” He turns to fully face you. “I just haven’t seen you this happy in some time.”

“Oh.” you say, stunned. This statement catches you off guard but luckily your father continues, so you don’t have to fill the silence.

“You seemed so sad before, especially with James. You used to force those tight lipped smiles that you thought we didn’t notice. This new guy has brought back your infectious smile. The one you don’t even seem to notice, you just do it.” He pauses slightly, “I missed that smile.”

This conversation comes to an end as your mom and Eliot return laughing loudly. Once he approaches the table, he stops in front of you. “Care for a dance?” He offers you his hand.

You gladly accept and follow him out onto this dance floor.You dance through several upbeat songs, joking and laughing at each other’s goofy dance moves throughout. For a moment, you forget how painful going back to normal life may be because having this much fun with Eliot reminds you how important your friendship is. The heartbreak could never break this bond. The bitterness of pining could never overpower the sweetness of these moments you share.

He spins you around and holds you close to him, your back to his chest. As you sway together to the music Eliot whispers in your ear, “You know, your mom told me some interesting things about you.”

“Oh god. What did she say?” You brace yourself for whatever ungodly stories from your youth your mom may have dug up for this occasion.

“Nothing too bad. I actually thought it was cute.” You turn in his arms to face him and raise your eyebrow as if to ask him to elaborate. “First she told me about the time you cut your own hair.”

You let out a chuckle, mostly in relief at how benign of a story that was. “I can still remember the terrible bangs I had in my school pictures that year. It felt like it took forever for those to grow out.”

“So is that why you convinced your sister to do the same just two years later?” He looks at you accusatorily and you know that your mom had to have given him more ammunition if he’s already digging in on the teasing.

You raise your hands defensively, “I just handed her the scissors and told her I thought she’d look cute with bangs. What she did after that is not my business.”

You wrap your arms around Eliot as you continue to dance as you bicker. “Oh I’m sure it was all her own idea.” His smile only widens as he continues, “She also showed me this picture of you as a kid where you were laying face first into your plate of mashed potatoes. It was cute. You’re still pretty cute when you get all sleepy like that.”

This catches you off guard because it’s just one more moment that’s a step past friendly without any reason for it. Nobody could really overhear your conversation over the music. He said that just for your benefit, or maybe just to sell the act. Maybe in a different life Eliot could have been an actor, he certainly played the part of lovestruck boyfriend pretty convincingly.

Trying not to focus much more on his words, lest their implications consume you, you add, “Did she tell you how I used to fall asleep at my bedtime so religiously I would sleep sitting up at family gatherings or in the cart at the grocery store?” He shook his head in response. “Yeah I wish I was still that committed to my sleep schedule.”

“Well ain’t that the truth sweetheart.” There’s a softness about him that is so rare and nearly indescribable. It’s a nearly magnetic force and you find it impossible to look away from him. It feels like if you even glance away for a second, the levity will be gone and the weight of the world will once again return to rest on his shoulders.

Soon you have to shift your focus as the DJ announces the bouquet toss. The men clear off the dance floor as all of the unmarried women gather. Sure, it doesn’t really mean anything if you catch the bouquet, but you find yourself reaching for it nonetheless. Maybe it was fate or maybe just luck or maybe it was set up by your sister considering her earlier remarks, but regardless the bouquet is in your hand and you’re staring down at it in shock.

Your sister hugs you and you know it’s going to break her heart when you and Eliot “split up.” Though by now, you’re too deep into it and so you have to act excited about this turn of events. A small part of you is excited though, the part that has clung onto every romantic moment this weekend as if it’s more than a fantasy. Perhaps that part isn’t so small.

On the side of the dancefloor the excitement over your purely hypothetical future builds in Eliot too. Fuck it. He won’t have many more chances to do this. He makes his way across the floor to you and happily pulls you to him, first in a tight hug, then into a lingering kiss. One that he has to hope you can’t just feel the sincerity of his desire dripping from.

You could get used to being kissed like this. Though, as your family is currently about half of the room, you pull away from Eliot, you can’t convince yourself to go very far away. Your foreheads rest against each other and the tension is palpable. Damn. He really is committed to convincing your family. He would have you convinced if you hadn’t been the one to set up this whole ruse.

Around you the dance floor fills again as the DJ turns on a slow song. You and Eliot hold each other close as you dance. Eliot softly sings along in your ear. His soothing voice slowly erases every worry you’ve had about this night. You feel safe and at home in his arms, and even if it won’t last, you can’t help sinking further against him. Truly if your heart must be broken, there’s nobody you would trust more to break it kindly.

You and Eliot are lost to the world around you as you both relish in what little time you have left to hold each other. That momentary bliss comes to an abrupt halt as the song fades out and you notice a presence looming just behind you. Just then you hear James’ voice behind you as his hand touches your back, sending a chill down your spine at your own unease. Speaking to Eliot he asks, “May I have her for this next one?”

Something seems off to him, but you reassure Eliot that it’s fine with a polite nod. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest, of course this was never real so he should have been prepared for rejection, but it still stings seeing you in someone else’s arms. Maybe that’s why you invited him, not to avoid your asshole ex, but to make James jealous.

Eliot goes to the bar to drown in something other than his own self pity and insecurities, and is met with your mother inviting him to sit next to her. Despite his own feelings, he won’t ruin things with your family so he orders a drink and sits at the open stool she has offered him.

“You’re good for her, you know?”

“I try to be.”

“I mean it. She’s happier with you than she has been in a long time. She still thinks she doesn’t deserve you though.” your mom looks at him with a sad sort of smile.

“What?” he asks incredulously.

“She’s always been a worrier. You can see it in the way she holds you,” she pauses in thought before correcting herself, “in the way you hold each other. You’re both so scared the other will leave. You don’t think you deserve her either, do you?”

It’s a relief in a way to be able to be truly honest for once this weekend. “No ma’am. I can’t say I do. I’m happy to have her until she realizes that though, and that’s enough for now.” He waves to the bartender and orders a second drink.

“You’re both idiots, I swear.” Your mother lets out a long sigh. “Do you treat my daughter with kindness?”

Suddenly, under your mom’s gaze Eliot feels like he’s sitting in the principal’s office facing detention. He feels small. “Of course.”

“And you love her?”

“Yes.”

“So are you saying Y/N doesn’t deserve your kindness and love?”

“No ma’am.”

“Then pull your head out of your ass and stop acting like she’s going to leave you. That girl loves you, anyone could see that, so why are you sitting here with me at the bar, drowning your sorrows?”

He hangs his head in defeat, he couldn’t argue the point of your affections, not without ruining your plan, so he settles on the easier argument. “She already has a dance partner.” He gestures to the dance floor.

Your mom finally glances over to you and rolls her eyes. “God I’ve always hated that son of a bitch.”

Eliot can’t help the deep belly laugh that escapes him. Your mom cursing in anger is funny when it’s not directed at him. It’s then when you turn to where he can see your face, your features lined with sadness. His protective instincts finally kick in and he heads your way. He tries to hang back to get the full scope of the situation.

As Eliot was at the bar, your ex had been saying truly awful things. As Eliot reapproached, he continued. “He’s gonna leave you, you know?”

Eliot couldn’t make out any of what was being said, but he knew from the tension in your body that you weren’t happy. He’s kicking himself now for letting his own insecurities put you in the exact kind of situation he was here to help you avoid.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you plaster a fake smile on your face and through gritted teeth say “I fail to see how that’s any of your fucking business James.”

“I’m just looking out for you, babe.”

“Don’t call me that” you cut him off.

He continues, not acknowledging what you said. “I may have moved on, but I still care about you. You don’t deserve to be hurt when he finds a prettier girl and runs away with her.”

“Fuck off, James.” Eliot isn’t going to stay with you, but that doesn’t mean you need to tolerate James’ bullshit. You pull yourself out of his hold but he follows behind you.

Eliot quickly approaches as he sees this and is in earshot finally for the last insult James throws out. “You know, I don’t know why you bothered catching that bouquet. Nobody is ever going to love you, much less marry you.”

In an instant, James is grabbed from behind, turned, and pinned against the nearby wall. You barely hear the commotion behind you as you exit the reception hall and finally let a tear run down your face.

Inside all eyes are on Eliot and your family has gathered as he begins yelling at James, “What’s your fucking problem, man?”

All too cocky, James smirks, “Here to ask if you can have my current girlfriend when we break up? You clearly love my leftovers.”

That earns him a broken nose. Eliot’s fist makes sharp contact with his face and the blood from his nose quickly stains his white shirt. “You need to shut the fuck up and leave Y/N the fuck alone, or you’ll find out just how quickly I can break another bone.”

Ever the idiot James opens his mouth to reply, but, before he can, your sister yells at him, “Better yet, get the fuck out of my wedding.”

With the bride’s blessing, Eliot and your father drag James out to his car and, seeing he’s been beat, or perhaps fearing being beaten again, he leaves without another word.

He sees you sitting on a bench outside the reception hall and breaks into a jog, wanting to comfort you. He holds you to his chest as you gently sob. As much as you didn’t like that James was saying it, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right, but you let that insecurity burrow further inside your heart as you realize something far worse. You probably just ruined your sister’s wedding.

You sit up abruptly and wipe the tears from your face, “I need to go apologize to my sister.” You run inside, leaving Eliot to slowly follow, though he washes your ex’s blood off of his hand before re-entering the reception hall.

Your eyes scan the room and finally land on your sister. The anxiety makes the words practically spill out of your mouth, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a scene at your wedding. I know I can’t make it better, but I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

Both of you are crying now. “You didn’t ruin anything. I shouldn’t have let him come, even if he was dating one of the other bridesmaids. If anything you fixed the wedding by getting rid of that piece of shit.”

“Well I’m pretty sure the getting rid of him part was more Eliot than it was me.” you chuckle. He walks up behind you, as if summoned by the mention of his name.

He looks toward your sister and her now husband as he wraps his hand around yours. “I am so sorry for,” he pauses and gestures vaguely towards the spot he had pinned James, “well, all of that really.”

Your sister laughs, “No need. We’ll just call it dinner and a show, and it was quite the show.” she leans in towards you both and in a far more serious tone adds “I heard from some of the others what he was saying before. You did the right thing, you could’ve gone a bit further to teach him a lesson if you ask me.”

He looks to you, now remembering that your ex had plenty of time in his absence to say far worse than what Eliot heard. “Wish I would’ve.” he lets out a nervous laugh, still unsure where he stands with everyone else. “I’m just glad he’s gone though and can’t cause any more trouble.”

Your sister replies, “Agreed. Though maybe try not to hit anyone at the next wedding?”

“I think I can manage that.” He smiles, glad to see that everyone is still in good spirits.

The groom, also seeming to relax, throws in, “You’d better because if those flowers are anything to go by, it’ll be your own.”

Eliot wraps his arms around you, and with more sincerity than you were prepared for says, “Hopefully.”

Trying so hard not to get lost in your imaginary future with Eliot, you change the topic. “Your wedding was really beautiful by the way. Congratulations.” You hug your sister. As you pull away, you lean back against Eliot and say. “I think it’s time for us to go back to the hotel though. I think we’ve created enough of a story tonight.”

“Of course,” she agrees. “Have a good night. Thank you both for coming.” Then as you walk away, your sister calls after you, loud enough for about half the room to hear, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, lovebirds.”

This leads to a few hoots and hollers from the other guests, just trying to tease and embarrass you further. You flip your sister off as Eliot guides you out of the room.

• • •

Next chapter

Let me know what you think!

Taglist: @mini-kunoichi @javicstories @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @being-worthy @xkell-bellx @imaginecrushes @sleeplessskeleton on @fablesrose @unholyhuntress @wonderlandfandomkingdom @fictional-hooman

[skullcandy11111198]

Leveragetober23 Day 3: family

Soon after Breanna came to live with Nana, she got a visit from one of her new big brothers. Nana was all in a tizzy for a few days beforehand, when she first learned one of her children would be coming back home for a few days. Apparently Hardison was a legend around here. Nana was baking like crazy, and when Breanna built up the courage to ask why she was making so much food, she learned that her "big brother and his partners" would be coming to stay with them.

Now, Breanna was pretty open minded, her parents raised her well, but she will admit she did a slowblink when she was first told. No one else seemed to have any thoughts on that topic, no weird or judge-y faces from any of the other children in hearing range, so she shrugged and went with it.

When they finally arrived, she was only more intrigued. Hardison could best be described as a whirlwind. He moved fast and talked faster. His two friends, on the other hand, were the direct opposite. They both smiled when talking to others, and answered rather succinctly, but otherwise they didn't move very fast, and in the scheme of things, barely talked at all.

Breanna wasn't quite sure what to do with them. She had accepted her parents were gone, and her definition of family had to change rather quickly, but every time she met a new child of Nana's, it hit her again how much her life had changed over the last two-ish years. Therefore, she was back in her room, decompressing a bit after meeting Hardison and his "partners."

(After meeting them, she honestly couldn't tell if they were romantic-partners or business-partners. They talked about work, a lot. They were vague about it, but they obviously worked together. On the other hand, Parker was a very clingy person with both Hardison and Eliot. Inevitably she would be hanging off one of them, touching them in some way. Hardison and Eliot were known to share a knowing look with each other too, whenever Parker did something. Parker and Eliot always made sure an orange soda was in Hardison's reach, and Parker and Hardison would make googly eyes whenever Eliot even just talked about cooking.)

A knock on her door distracted her.

She opened her door to reveal a slightly nervous looking Parker, who kept checking over her shoulder while she asked if she could hide in Breanna's room for a little bit. Breanna was unsure about this new person, but eh, why not? When she said as much, Parker beamed and thanked her while sliding inside and sitting on the ground behind where the door would hinge open.

Okayyyy. Breanna hesitantly sat down criss cross apple sauce, facing her. "Not to, like, stop you or anything…but, why are we sitting on the ground, exactly?"

Parker looked at her with a sharp eye. "Well, I'm sitting on the ground. You just decided to do it because I did. Sophie says that has to do with psychology, but I don't remember which theory right now."

"Hey! It feels perfectly reasonable right now to go to ground when the only adult in here right now is doing the same!" Breanna pouted, but all she got back was a small smile from Parker. "And hey, don't distract me! Why are we on the ground?"

Parker laughed, then suddenly went quiet. Breanna started to open her mouth to ask her what was happening when Parker suddenly whipped her hand up to stop her from speaking. A few moments later Breanna heard footsteps walking down the hall, pausing at the end, then turning around and walking back to the main part of the house.

Once she was sure whoever it was was gone, she lowered her hand. Breanna was even more curious now, and slightly worried. She knew Nana, and she knew how she raised her children, but either way there was another woman in her room, an adult, who seemed to be hiding from the other adults. Breanna needed to know what was going on.

Parker must have been able to read her face because when she turned her head back towards the younger girl, she immediately started to explain.

"Okay, so to be honest, I've gotten wayyy better with people. Like, way better. I haven't stabbed anyone with a fork in two months, Hardison and Sophie are really proud of me. But there are still a lot of people out there, and they were starting to get loud, and I don't like loud. Loud means notice and I don't like to be noticed, so I went to the place I was sure no one would check because I know Hardison, which means I know Nana, which means I know they will give you privacy because new people are around, which means people are way less likely to come looking for me in here, and when Nana introduced you, you were really quiet, so you are not likely to be as loud as it is out there. So, safe space."

Breanna's head was reeling from trying to keep track of…all of that but yeah, it made sense, in a weird way. She was the newest kid, and one of the previous kids was coming home to visit for the first time since she arrived, plus they were bringing other people too, so Nana was likely to quietly tell everyone to give her some space.

Breanna nodded definitively. "Okay, that makes sense. But…floor?"

Parker nodded, very serious, "First lesson: even when you're hidden, don't assume you're safe, always hide somewhere in a hidden place. Then you're way less likely to be caught" She paused, eyeing Breanna's head speculatively. "You have really curly hair. That's good. You can hide a lot of things in there, lots of pins, maybe even a key or two." Another pause, Breanna felt like her soul was being weighed. "Do you want to learn how to pick a lock in less than 5 seconds?"

Oh, they were going to be friend-friends. "Okay!"

[frasier-crane-style]

Watching White Collar, I'm in a two dimes situation with this and Stargate: Atlantis, where you actually watch a show with a huge slash fandom and find that the two guys aren't gay at all. I know slash fandom will read pretty much any relationship between two men as buttsex, but in this case, it seems so specific that Peter is the aloof big brother reluctantly giving guidance and Neil is the hyperactive kid brother reluctantly admitting he needs guidance that, I don't know, it kinda stuns me you could see that as sexual? They're closer to being father/son

Plus, Peter is not only married, but his wife Elizabeth is the third lead. She has good chemistry with Peter, they have a loving and respectful relationship--anytime going undercover requires that Peter feint interest in another woman, he's deeply mortified, even though Elizabeth is entirely understanding and trusting of him (to the point where she finds it funny more than anything else). She's not a rarely seen afterthought the way, say, Elliot Stabler's wife is.

This got me thinking about fandom OT3s. A lot of them are pretty simple. There's a love triangle? Well, what if all three of them got together? There, problem solved. The Bettie/Veronica/Archie thing. Self-indulgent, but it scratches an itch. I can respect it. Go write Bella Swan being double-teamed by both Team Edward and Team Jacob. What, we're saying this is where the fantasy gets unbelievable?

But there's a weirdly specific variant I wanna talk about. A and B are the two guys the fandom wants to slash together. C is A's female love interest. They're deeply committed to each other and C is too likeable for fandom to want to kick her to the curb. So, they just say that all three are in a relationship, despite B and C simply being good friends with little if any romantic/sexual interest in each other.

Exact same thing happened in Leverage fandom. Elliot and Hardison are da boys and fandom wants to slash them. Hardison and Parker have longstanding sexual tension that eventually becomes a relationship. Parker and Elliot are on good terms, but not really intimate with each other at all.

Nonetheless, fandom insists that the three of them are a love thing to the point where it's even 'acknowledged' by the show (in a wink-wink, plausible deniability sorta way where Elliot continues to date assorted women despite being in a 'relationship'). It's polygamy entirely driven by cope because slashers feel it's bad feminism to kick a girl out of the way of the yaoi sex they really want.

Sociologically, that's fascinating to me. It's like if men consumed a genre of porn where each movie included one male-on-male sex scene, despite that not arousing them at all, just for the sake of equality. Damn, bitch, you're really letting your fantasy life be colonized by Miss Manners?

[lemissingmask]

[ID: Sketch in partial colour of Redemption era Parker and Eliot sitting side by side in the courtyard of their New Orleans base, in similar relative positions to when they had a heart to heart at the end of the hurricane job. Parker and her background are in colour, and she’s looking sadly down, hunched forward slightly. Eliot is in greyscale and wearing prison clothes, looking sad and serious. End ID] -

Day 29: alt. Prison

AU for The Turkish Prisoner Job, where Eliot gets stuck in the prison, and also the first part of the three-parter of ficlets, with the others on days 8 (dissociation, part 3) and 15 (experimentation, part 2). I know it’s backwards but that’s the way the days worked out 😅

Ficlet below the cut.

-

“Do exactly what they say,” were the last words they heard from Eliot for days, and they hadn’t even been addressed to the team.  He had been speaking to Romero, just as he was about to get released on a day pass by their marks, and then he was gone.  Taken away by prison guards under orders that overruled the detectives.

The confusion and surprise didn’t last more than a few seconds.

Sophie stepped in, had Breanna mute Eliot’s comm for all but her, and talked their client through how to proceed, keeping him calm and collected as he had to keep going now without a hitter for back-up.

The job had taken another turn, requiring a change of plan, new considerations, and they needed all of them involved to pull it off successfully, which meant it was two days before they had a chance to get back to Eliot.  If had been any member of the team other than Eliot, Parker would have been worried.

But it was Eliot and a stint in prison out of contact with his crew was nothing to him.

Regardless, she felt something unpleasant and annoying and she didn’t understand it.

“Babe, you okay?” Hardison asked, his image large in the screens as their long distance call connected.

Breanna had emailed him as soon as they lost contact with Eliot, just in case there was something he could do with his amazing exosphere hacking access. But the prison ran a closed network, no access from the outside even from the exosphere.

“It just feels wrong.”

Hardison frowned, “Eliot being in jail?”

“I don’t know. Yes. Maybe…”

For over ten years Parker had barely gone a day without one or both of Hardison and Eliot either right there beside her or talking in her ear. Now Hardison was gone, only reachable through a complicated video link thing or emails that took too long and were too impersonal, and Eliot’s voice was no longer there either.

“Babe?”

Parker realised she had let her mind wander and looked back to the screen.

She couldn’t place what she was feeling.

She was angry. Angry at Eliot for not just breaking out, angry at Harry for running the job so Eliot ended up in prison, angry with Sophie for letting Harry run the job, and angry with herself because it wasn’t Harry’s fault or Sophie’s fault.

This happened.  They did a dangerous job, especially Eliot, and this sort of thing could happen, and no one was to blame.

And she was anxious.  Worried about Eliot, which was stupid because it was Eliot Spencer and he was always fine.

“Parker? Talk to me.”

She looked up.

Hardison looked worried, sad.

She smiled slightly, feeling that rising warmth that came whenever he looked at her with so much emotion. The reminder that she wasn’t alone.

“I don’t like not having him here,” she said quietly.  She wanted Hardison to understand.

“I know,” he replied, “I’m sorry I’m not there right now.”

She nodded, “Well, you’ve got satellite stuff to do.”

That earned her only a sad smile, and she looked down at the keyboard.

“Harry going into the prison tomorrow?” Hardison asked, “Playing the lawyer.”

“Yeah. We can’t do anything until we know more.”

“I’ll keep trying to dig up intel from my end too. Got an algorithm running right now to cross-reference each of his aliases and his real name against email communications between government agencies, prison networks, rich folk…anyone who might want to lock him up.”

“That’s a long list. We’ve made a lot of enemies.”

And Eliot had a lot more still from before Leverage.

“Yeah. It’s gonna take a while,” Hardison replied, “So, wanna watch something together tonight?  I can stream from any country in the world and share the screen.”

“Sharknado?”

Hardison sighed, “We got access to pretty much any film that exists on the internet, and you wanna watch Sharknado.  Again.”

She grinned, “We can watch Sharknado II after.”

Sighing again, but smiling properly this time, he got to work finding the films, and they began their movie night.

-

Harry’s visit to the prison had three purposes.  The first, to see if there was a quick route to getting Eliot released.  The second, if that failed, to find out what had happened and why Eliot had been detained.  The third, to get an earbud back to Eliot.

This required what was, essentially, a pointless and entirely fabricated lawyer-client conversation between Eliot and Harry, which Parker mostly ignored in favour of watching Breanna attempt to find a way into the prison security system now they were parked close to the building in the food truck.

The culmination of this conversation was that no, it was not going to be quick and easy to get Eliot released because he reportedly had committed severe infractions within the prison, as observed by the guards.  Eliot had been moved to solitary because of these supposed dangerous acts, which were false but backed up by multiple guards.  He hinted that he had some idea of why, but the conversation was recorded and monitored, with two guards in the room at the time, so he couldn’t say more.

But the third task was successful.

About half an hour after Harry returned, and while they were still outside the prison, Eliot’s comm came online.

“Welcome back,” Sophie said, seeing the feed on the laptop screen appear.

“Thanks,” Eliot whispered, suggesting he suspected someone may be listening, “Romero okay?”

“Okay and rolling in it,” Breanna replied proudly.

“Job’s wrapped up, everything sorted, so now we just need to get you out,” Parker added, “Any idea what got you locked in there?”

“Think so,” he replied, “Sorta.  Pretty sure I’ve been ID’d.”

That was no surprise.  It was among the theories they had discussed.

“Who by?” Harry asked, “It has to be someone high up for them to get you moved to solitary and multiple guards confirming a false story to keep you there.”

“Dunno, but I heard someone talkin’ outside my cell.  Think they were on the phone, an’ they told whoever they were talkin’ to that they had me - said my name, not the alias’s - locked down.  My guess is they’re gonna transfer me at some point.”

“Weakest part of any transit is when the goods are being loaded into the vehicle,” Parker repeated information she had heard from Eliot years before, “That’s where we rescue you.”

Breanna shifted her screen to bring up several views of roads, “Look, I didn’t manage to get into the prison cameras, but I could get into some CCTV on the roads leading to the prison.  A prisoner transport is gonna require an armoured car, right?  And it’s gotta go down one of those roads.”

“We’ll be ready for it too, now,” Sophie added, “You can tell us when the transfer is taking place.  We’ll get everything prepared to attack the car, and when you give us the signal, we’ll move.”

Considering the number of times they’d waylaid and broken into armoured vehicles in the past, setting up the plan for dealing with this one - and contingencies in case of an escort, alternative routes, timings being off, and so on - didn’t take more than a few hours.  And, with the plan established and it already nearing midnight, they all went to bed.

All except Parker.

She tried sitting at the bar and then the desk and then on the stage, and finally wandered out to the courtyard to sit on the picnic table there. It felt very empty to be sitting on that table without Eliot next to her. But then most places she was used to sitting tended to have their hitter there too.

She felt stupid. Ridiculous. Eliot had been away from them undercover or kidnapped or on some side-hustle job loads of times and she never felt this unhappy about it. Hardison had been away loads too, working on those hacker things only he could do, and she felt sad but not like this. Not this icky, distracting, fuzzy feeling in her brain like something was really really wrong.

She pulled her earbud from her pocket and put it in her ear.

“Hey, Eliot?  You asleep?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to listen to that podcast with all the facts. Wanna listen with me? We’re like six episodes behind.”

Eliot didn’t reply immediately. She heard a quiet background noise. His footsteps on a hard floor.

Then he spoke quietly, not answering the question.

“You doin’ alright, Parker?”

She tried to laugh properly but it didn’t work.  It didn’t sound like a laugh, even though she was meant to be good at grifting by now.

“I’m not the one sitting alone in a dark lonely cold prison cell.”

She could hear the smile in Eliot’s voice. The gentle, soft smile.

“I’ve been in a lot of prisons, Parker.  This one’s among the nicest,” he paused, and in it she could picture his expression perfectly. It was the kind, understanding, expression few people ever got to see.

The thought of it, so clear in her mind, finally made her understand what felt so wrong.

She was lonely.

She hadn’t been lonely in a very long time and now it hurt so much more than before.

“It’s just,” she began, looking down at her shoes on the bench, “First Hardison left. And now so have you.”

“Parker,” Eliot said softly, “I didn’t leave. I’m right here, an’ I’m always gonna be. Hardison might be a stupid number of miles away, but he’s right there with you too.”

“With us.”

“With us,” he accepted her correction without hesitating, “We’re not, either of us, ever gonna leave you. An’ I know right now it feels lonely, but you’re not alone. We’re here, Sophie’s there. Harry an’ Breanna are there. Hell, if you wanna call up Hurley I bet he’d answer any time of the day or night an’ probably make you talk to his damn cat.”

Parker laughed despite herself. She liked Hurley’s cat. Eliot didn’t, so the cat always sat on Eliot when they visited, purring contentedly while he growled at it to go annoy someone else, and trying to pretend there wasn’t a fond smile just on the verge of forming on his face.

Eliot left a long pause for his words to sink in, and for Parker to find the truth within them. When he spoke again it was in a more normal tone, saving her from falling too deep into emotions she couldn’t name.

“So,” Eliot said, “About that podcast. ‘Cus solitary’s pretty damn boring.”

Parker found herself smiling.

She already had it up on her phone, the first in their episode backlog ready to go.

“You hear it?”

The familiar theme tune started as she pressed play.

“I hear it,” Eliot replied, then added softly, just as the voices of the podcasters began, “Thanks, Park.”

She nodded although he couldn’t see, smiled, and settled in to spend the night happily with Eliot, even if there were miles and walls of concrete between them.

Parker went to sleep, still listening to that podcast with Eliot in her ear.

When she woke up, Eliot was gone.

His comms were off, and no amount of yelling into her earbud would get a response.

Harry went back into the prison, playing the part of his alias's lawyer again, but he was told that alias wasn't in the prison system. Never had been in the prison at all, according to the records. Hours of intense hacking from outside the walls and from the exosphere found that alias wiped entirely from the prison records, and Eliot's name was nowhere to be found either.

During the night, while his crew slept, Eliot had been made to disappear.

-

[eyrieofsynapses]

Been thinking about The Two Live Crew Job again, specifically about Sophie and Eliot with the bomb, and... y'know, it's interesting to me, how Sophie looks to Eliot while they're trying to figure out what to do with the bomb. He's not the expert in the room, not really—that’s Parker and Hardison, truth be told, though Eliot’s got more field experience with explosives, and we see that in how they're the ones providing feedback. Heck, Parker's the one that comes up with the solution with the instant pudding. Nate takes the natural leader position, and he and Sophie are... Nate and Sophie. But it's Eliot that we see Sophie consistently coming back to, who she locks eyes with.

That could be for plenty of reasons. He does seem to have the steadiest control of the situation, likely because he's the best at dealing with high-stakes life-threatening issues (the hitter with extensive military experience is, of course, going to be better under that kind of pressure than the ones who are technically civilians). But I think maybe there's another layer there: he's the one she can trust to be blunt.

See, Eliot's not going to try to soften this. He's a tactful person as a general rule, but he also knows when to be honest. Sophie doesn't want this to be softened. I suspect that's because it introduces a layer of instability; if she only hears optimistic viewpoints, there's an uncertainty in what could go wrong, a fear about what might really happen. But Parker and Hardison and Nate don't necessarily get that—in fact, they themselves won't want to stare down the flat truth, and they may take the optimistic standpoint simply to keep themselves comfortable, even without realizing it.

Conversely, Eliot's not (and never has been) the type to try to look only on the bright side. You don't get to do that in his line of work. He knows how to look at all possible outcomes and take the scene in as-is, and he understands that some people don't want platitudes. Sophie's one of them. She knows, then, that she can trust him to tell her exactly what's happening and what the stakes are, no sugar-coating, no shaky voice, just steady truth.

And she knows, too, that he knows when something is a lost cause—and he understands when to cut his losses. Eliot can be impartial in the moment, no matter how much he beats himself up about it later, and he can weigh the odds and decide, coldly, when to abandon her.

The others can't do that. Parker, even here, even now, two years before The Long Way Down Job, could never choose survival over Sophie in that way. Hardison and Nate? They'd stay, no matter how bad the odds, no matter if it was sure that they wouldn't make it. But Eliot can. More importantly, he's the one who can drag the other three out of there.

He's the one Sophie can depend on to keep them alive. Even if it means she dies alone, even if it means she loses that slim, tiny chance she could live—he'll get them out, and they'll live. She won't let them stay behind, and she even shouts that at them, yells at them to get out, and she knows even as she does so that Nate and Parker and Hardison might not listen. But Eliot will. No matter what, Eliot will, and he'll listen to her and follow her orders.

It's Eliot that she watches, and it's him that she keeps steady with, because he'll be honest with her, and he'll be honest with them, and he'll keep them safe, the same way she "[makes] sure we’re all okay," as Hardison so poignantly puts it.

And do you know what else? In spite of all of it, though, in spite of being the one to be blunt, he still manages to be gentle. He's reassuring, holds her gaze and speaks soft and even and gentle, calming, steady, sure. He's the one who hates explosives, who knows exactly how bad this could be, and he stays steady for her.

This is their second year working together. It's mere months after she apologized for lying to them, point-blank, in The Second David Job. Yet there's still this trust, this holding anchored balance, that they'll keep the crew safe together.

But here's the other thing. It's not just that they trust one another with the rest of the crew. It's that Sophie trusts him to keep her safe, and Eliot trusts her to keep him safe, even if "safe" doesn't mean physically. Because sometimes "safe" isn't about that. Sometimes it's safety in reassurance, even when everything is going to go horribly wrong. Sometimes it's safety in keeping secrets, or listening to each other without judgement.

And sometimes, it's about safety in knowing the truth, no matter how vulnerable and terrible it may be.

[fablesrose]

Ch 9 - The Top Hat Job

Series Rewrite Masterlist 

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: The team has to play as magicians to get into a food company that has contaminated food on the shelves. *Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about magic, so don't come for me*

Words: 5377

A/n: So I've burned through my stock of chapters after this and I've been having a bit of a tough time for the next couple of weeks. I've got final weeks and then surgery to fix my wrecked knee, I want to get back to this as soon as possible, but I'm not sure when that will be. Thank you all for reading this far, it means so much to me!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Nate and Sophie were downstairs in the pub meeting with the client. I was watching as Eliot, Hardison, and Parker were starting recon on the target: Lillian foods. From what brief background we already had, their frozen food was contaminated, but one of the higher-ups calculated the risk and said that the amount of deaths was acceptable relative to cost in lawsuits vs pulling the food off the shelves. So, a real dirtbag, like all the rest of them. 

Hardison and I were in Nate’s apartment monitoring all of the tech stuff while Eliot and Parker were doing the leg work. Eliot was posing as a pizza delivery man with comms and a button cam, going into the heart of the beast. We watched as he approached the front desk where a pretty brunette sat taking phone calls. 

“Her name is Katie,” Hardison told him as he balanced a tennis ball on his forehead casually, “Likes wild horses, dislikes vanilla toothpaste.”

“Please stop talking,” Eliot responded. 

I laughed a bit, “The fact you can find those things is wild.”

“Hey,” Eliot greeted the receptionist, and I could hear the smile in his voice, “How ya doin’?”

She didn’t respond to him, only lifting a finger signaling for him to wait a moment. 

He turned away from her in a way that I could visualize him leaning against the counter. “Oh, I’m so in,” he said a bit cockily.

My smile soured a bit, remembering just how much of an eye for pretty chicks Eliot had.

“Hey Eliot, what’s that blocking your button cam?” Hardison asked him. I furrowed my brow, as while it was a bit warped because of how small it was, it wasn’t too bad. That was until Hardison finished his thought, “Oh yeah, it’s your ego!”

That made me smile a bit again before moving it along, “Parker? Whatcha got?”

“First ten floors are free climbing heaven, but after that, it's a slip and slide,” she responded easily before a random person started to vaguely harass her, saying she had pretty hair. 

“Uh, Parker, maybe don’t stay next to that person.”

I didn’t get a response from her as Nate and Sophie walked in bickering.

“When was the last time you had a date?” Sophie asked him which caught my attention. “A real date… with food?”

“Stop,” Nate responded before his attention turned to us, “Hardison…”

“I don’t think that counts,” Sophie commented before turning to me to answer her question.

I only shook my head to indicate that it had been a long time. 

“Are you running recon on Lillian Foods?” he asked us. 

“Uh, yeah?” Hardison responded for the both of us. 

“Don’t you think you should consult with me first?”

“Did he just…?”

“We do this all the time, Nate,” Sophie defended. 

“Hey, look man, where do you think all my intel comes from? For the last time, there is no blueprint fairy.”

“Yeah, well, I want you to pull them out. Do it now,” Nate told him as he poured himself a cup of coffee. 

“Why? What’s up?” I asked him. He seemed a bit more strict than a usual job.

“Look, we know what we’re doing, man. It’s a food company,” Hardison rebuffed. 

“No, you don’t. No. Not with a place like this. You don’t know what you’re doing,” Nate insisted. 

I watched on the screen as Eliot started to get escorted away, “Eliot?”

“Give it exactly two seconds before this becomes a train wreck.”

And just like that Eliot responded, “Hardison, we’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” He asked. 

“They’re MRI-ing my pizza and their stance says ex-CIA.” 

“You could tell somebody worked for the CIA just from how they stand?” Hardison asked before I could. 

“It’s a very distinctive stance,” he whispered back. 

I watched anxiously as a bunch of red flags and alerts popped up on Hardison’s screens. Hardison started to hack back with a vengeance to try and take back some control. I had faith in him, but the beeping and buzzing and flashing lights really didn’t make me feel better. Suddenly it took a turn for the worse where the screens said system lock out. 

“Uh, Eliot, I think you should get out of there,” I said into the comms before the power in Nate’s apartment went out. 

“Right now,” Hardison added on. 

I glanced back to where Nate was sitting at the kitchen table with his hands raised as if to say, ‘see? This is what happens.’

“I’m working on it,” Eliot responded, accompanied with the sounds of fighting. “Parker, I’m comin’ out hot.”

“Okay, all clear out here. Just me-” she started to respond before the same person from earlier’s voice came through. 

“Copy that, I think I got one out here, too.”

“Parker, did you stay next to that guy? That doesn’t sound good,” I commented, partially to her, but mostly myself. 

It sounded like Eliot got through the worst of his escape as he whispered, supposedly to the receptionist, “I’ll call ya.”

I rolled my eyes to myself, of course he would do that. 

“You know when I said you had pretty hair?” the guy next to Parker asked, “I was lying.”

I gagged, what a creep.

“Yeah, well, so was I when I said you didn’t… wait, damn it.” Parker responded before it sounded like she made her escape. 

“Hardison?” Nate asked him after a little bit. 

“Wait for it,” he said as he typed on his keyboard before the lights came back on. “See? There wasn’t no problem. I mean, I had it under control.”

He rambled on for a little bit longer, clearly flustered, as I laid my head back against the chair I was sitting in, letting out a sigh of relief that it was okay. 

Later, when Eliot and Parker were able to make it back to the apartment, we sat around the kitchen table as Nate talked to us. I was still trying to figure out if he was going to chew us out or be nice and just explain what went wrong. 

“So, pizza delivery guy was your big plan?”

“You know what man?” Hardison said, “It was recon, okay? Information gathering has historically been a very safe and peaceful business. It was a food company! Wasn’t like they were making weapons.” 

I glanced at Eliot as he shifted an ice pack he was holding to his arm. 

“Listen,” Nate said, “I’ve worked insurance for companies like this. Anyone gets their hands on the company’s food patents could cost them billions. And by the way? The guard that stuff better than defense contractors.” Nate explained. 

Hardison looked at me in disbelief, but I shook my head, “Hey, I didn’t know that.”

Parker poked at Eliot’s arm, “does that hurt?”

“Yeah.”

“Well that explains all the ex-spooks hanging around the lobby then,” Sophie commented. 

“You know what?” Hardison said a bit aggressively, “Ya live and ya learn.”

“No. I lived, alright,” Eliot cut in, “You sat behind a computer and acted like Kool Moe Dee.”

“What’d you call me? Kool Moe Dee? Like you even know anything about Kool Moe Dee. I was gathering very crucial information.”

“Does that hurt?” Parker poked Eliot again.

“Yeah.”

“How about now?”

“Alright!” I stood from my seat and smacked my hands on the table, a little overstimulated with all the arguing, which stopped it. “Parker, please stop poking Eliot, assume that it hurts. Eliot, we are very glad you lived, and Hardison…” I sighed, the little bit of adrenaline that I had worn off already, “what crucial information did you happen to gather in this train wreck?”

“Yes,” Nate said, backing me up a bit as I slowly sat back down, “How about you share that crucial information with the rest of us.”

I glanced up at Eliot who was looking at me with a softer expression, but I looked back down at the table, my hands in my hair.

“You know what?” Hardison answered Nate, “You ain’t said nothin’ but a word.” He pulled a remote out of his pocket, starting up the screens. 

We all started to make our way to the living room to hear what Hardison had gathered.

“Hey, you heard y/n, stop it,” Eliot said to Parker after she poked him one more time. 

“Eliot, what are you doing?” Nate asked, walking around the table towards him. 

“She’s poking me,” he replied, watching as he came closer. “Don’t man…” He said, shrugging him off as Nate grabbed his hurt arm too, rubbing it in a little more. 

I chuckled, “Come on Eliot, I’ll protect you from the meanies.” I walked ahead of him and was pleasantly surprised when he sat down so I was next to his injured arm.

He tapped his knee to mine, “you better.”

I tried to fight the smile that was growing a bit too wide as Hardison began the briefing. 

“Lillian Foods is the third largest food company in the world. Last year it made 12 billion dollars,” Hardison started. “This is the vice president of the frozen food division, Erik Casten. Erik with a K, Casten with a C.”

“How is that relevant?” Nate asked. 

“Oh,” Parker answered, “Eric with a C, nice and friendly. Erik with a K, evil.”

“I mean, she has a point,” I corroborated. 

“I didn’t know that,” Sophie commented. 

“Everybody knows that,” Parker replied.

“According to Dr. Jameson,” Hardison continued, “Erik with a K is trying to cover up salmonella in the frozen dinners so his division doesn’t have to pay out for the recall.”

“That’s why I grow my own food,” Eliot said next to me.

“How do you find the time?” Sophie asked. 

“You make time. I only sleep 90 minutes a day.”

“I didn’t know that,” I whispered to him, “The growing your own food part. That’s super cool. I only have a basil plant on my window sill. But I don’t think that that little sleep is good for you.”

“The basil’s a good start,” he whispered back, not addressing my sleep comment. 

I could never tell what the next thing I was going to learn about him was. I’ve started to seriously wonder what this man couldn’t do. I already knew that failing to steal my attention was not on that seemingly shorter list. 

“So what we have to do is, we have to get a hold of Casten’s report and make it public,” Nate said. “It’s on the servers. How do we get into the building?”

“I think pizza delivery guy is off the table, for the record,” I commented, nudging my knee against Eliot’s, purposefully avoiding his gaze, but I heard him huff a laugh anyway. 

“I am so far ahead of you, man, it’s scary,” Hardison told Nate. “Look, I can’t hack their system from the outside, so I sent a Trojan phone. It’s hacker 101.”

I pulled out my phone, “Oh, if this is a course, should I be taking notes?”

“You might as well be,” Hardison answered before continuing, “What I did was messenger a smartphone with an extended battery to an employee that’s on vacation. The package sits in the mail room. It scans for wireless and bluetooth access points. Unfortunately, even their internal servers are locked down like the CIA. So all I was able to get was employee emails.”

“Oh, anything useful there?” Sophie asked. 

“Oh yeah, you know what?” Hardison sat on the edge of his seat, leaning towards her, “Marie from Payroll has a crush on Steve from Accounts Receivable.”

She and I were more invested in this gossip then we probably should have been. 

Hardison pulled up a picture of a shirtless below average guy, “Look, that’s Steve right there on his vacation in Florida from a month ago.”

“She likes him? Really?” Parker asked half-heartedly, voicing my own thoughts as well. 

“Oh yeah. That man is a sexy man-beast right there” Hardison half insisted before moving onto the next piece of gossip. “Now, Shannon and Chris from Marketing, they got a little fight going on with Lauren from Ads.”

“Office politics,” Sophie concluded, “God. It’s lucky we don’t have that.”

Eliot and I shared a look that showed we were both skeptical of that. It was just different kinds of politics. 

“Everybody’s up in there complaining about this state of the company thing tomorrow,” Hardison continued, “And Brian from IT-”

“That’s it right there,” Nate cut in, “That’s our way in.”

“Brian from IT?” Hardison asked, “No, he is not a team player.”

“No no no no no,” Nate responded, “That’s our way in… yeah. Yeah yeah. That’s it. The state of the company meeting. Here we go.”

“What is that?” Eliot asked, “I don’t know what that is.”

“Me neither,” Parker said. 

“It’s like State of the Union?” Hardison offered. 

“What is that?” Sophie asked as well.

“Nate,” I said, “You’re the only one here who’s had like a traditional corporate job. Even with me, the places I worked never did that.”

“Oh right, right,” Nate said, finally understanding, “You guys have never had real jobs.”

The rest answered in the affirmative while I gave him a pointed look. He nodded apologetically as if to say, ‘I know you did, but yeah.’

“Alright,” Nate began to explain, “so when I used to work for IYS we would do this all the time. The company, big companies, they make their employees sit for an entire day listening to these boring speeches, lame entertainment, bad food. It’s…” 

Parker huffed a sigh, “I’m so glad I don’t live in the real world.”

I nodded in agreement.

“It’s mandatory,” Nate added. “It’s the only time that all the employees are away from their desks at the same time.”

“Alright, so we go in as caterers. We download the report while everyone’s chucking back the mini quiches. Easy,” Sophie concluded. 

“No,” Hadison contradicts, “see, it’s a food company. All the catering is in house. The only outsiders involved in the whole big operation are the entertainment.”

“And who would that be?” Nate asked.

“Oh, you gonna love this… It’s a magician.”

Nate perked up, looking at me, “ah…”

I, in turn, deflated, “no…”

The now former entertainment was a magician, and from what Hardison told us, he was pretty slimy. A couple of sexual harassment charges didn’t help. It didn’t take much for Hardison and Parker to dismantle his show and get him arrested for punching Hardison in the face. 

The next day Sophie called Lillian Foods to explain the problem and give us an in to replace ‘Chronos the Magnificent.’ Nate went in first as ‘head magician’ talking to the head of security.

“Harry Turner,” he said, handing the security guard a business card. 

“The magician, I know.”

“Illusionist,” Nate corrected, “Magicians do kid’s parties. I do Fortune 500 companies.” He waved us over, “Uh, right this way gang.”

“Woah, and who are these people?” The security guard asked. 

“Oh, this is my team, I believe you spoke with my manager, this is Nell Carver,” he waved towards Sophie who was rolling in a cart of supplies before introducing the rest of us, “my illusions designer, Frank Brunner, my lovely assistant Clea, and of course my beloved apprentice Miss Birdie.” 

I fought to not roll my eyes at Nate introducing me as such, hoping we could get past security without me blowing it. 

Hardison stepped forward towards the guard, “Hey man, I hope you have a doctor in the house, because this man right here is gonna blow your mind.”

“Alright, come on, we’re on a very tight schedule,” Nate said as he started to walk forward. 

“Nothing gets in or out of this building without being scanned,” the guard said, stopping him. 

“These crates contain my illusions, my life. I’m not gonna reveal my secrets. Come on.”

“That’s not my problem, is it?”

“I’ll take care of this,” Sophie said, stopping Nate from continuing, “Mr. Markland, I’m sure we can figure something out. It’s not possible-”

“Let’s pull up the van, Frank, and let's get out of here,” Nate said. 

“Harry, are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Then an older man walked up to the commotion we were making, “what is going on here?”

“Mr. Price, sir, this is…” the guard started.

Nate turned and introduced himself with a business card, “Harry Turner, illusionist extraordinaire, you are Mr. Price, CEO of this company?”

“I am, what’s going on here?”

“I would like very much, sir, to give your people a wonderful show, but your doorman here would like to look at our boxes of illusions and destroy the illusion.”

I bit my lip to try not to laugh at the obvious manipulation that Nate was pulling, particularly with the context of us being magicians. I never would have dreamed of us being in a situation like this.

“Markland, just lighten up, will ya?” the CEO asked. “It’s a magic show for Pete’s sake.”

Nate repeated him as he followed Mr. Price and led us through security into the building. 

Once we were on stage Nate said, “Okay, we’re clear, let him out.”

Harison opened the giant upright box to let Eliot out. He was dressed in his black stealth related outfit with a beanie on his head that I liked a little too much. He held a classic white rabbit and hat in his arms and carefully stepped around a bird cage at his feet when getting out. 

“It’s a good job you’re not claustrophobic Eliot.” Sophie commented. 

“I was when I was a kid,” Eliot said, shoving the rabbit into Nate’s hands, “take this damn thing.”

“Really? How’d you get over it?” Parker asked while taking the rabbit as Nate handed it to her.

“I locked myself in a woodshed behind my house for a couple nights. After that I was fine.”

I looked at him in disbelief, pausing my task of unpacking the bird cage and checking on the birds inside, “That is the worst form of exposure therapy I have ever heard of… Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“That is so funny,” Parker said, “I was scared of the dark and did the exact same thing.” She then relayed a story of how her friends buried her alive in a wood chest when she was a kid.

“That is not the same thing,” Eliot responded. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I take it back Eliot, Parker’s is worse.” There were moments like this where I questioned where my life path has taken me to get to the point where my friends are these people. Then I remember that it is my own damn fault for willingly following Nate’s hard left turn in life. I shrugged to myself before continuing to prepare.

“So, you’re actually enjoying this,” Sophie said to Nate. 

“You know, being a magician, it’s the next best thing to being a con artist, you know? It’s all about misdirection and control.”

“So no one actually told you that you can’t control life. You see, this is why you’re not in a relationship.”

“No, Sophie, I’m just very focused on my work right now. You know, I was out of control before. Now I’m in control, it's a good thing.”

Hardison turned to me, “You do not seem very pleased about this, but you are kinda confident right now, so I’m confused.”

I glanced at him as I kept unpacking stuff, “Uh, yeah, because when I was in middle school, Nate and I went through a magic phase where we worked together and learned a lot of this stuff. We got pretty good at it, not gonna lie…” I then pointedly said, “Though I don’t understand why I have to go by Miss Birdie like I did when I was like 12 and Nate can’t go by Monsieur Kitty!”

“Do you hear yourself right now, y/n?” Nate asked.

“Yes, and I can be petty when I want to be, you’re using my childhood nickname against me.”

“So you know how to do all this magic stuff?” Eliot asked.

“Absolutely,” Nate answered, “Positively, yeah. It’s all about the rabbit. You know having… by the way, where’s the rabbit,” he asked, turning around before shrugging it off. “Hardison, let’s go over the plan.”

We all gathered around Hardison as he started to outline the plan. As he did so, I couldn’t help but notice how my heart was beating faster than it should be. I knew I was nervous about this, the stage, performance, how much the team was relying on this distraction, and every little thing that had to go right, but I maybe didn’t realize how much until we were here and I took the moment to stop.

“Okay, the show opens with our friend Erik Casten delivering the state of the company speech,” Hardison said. “The speech is scheduled to last an hour, giving myself, Eliot, and Parker enough time to go down to the server room, hack the servers, download the report, and get back downstairs.”

“So, massively there will be no magic show,” Sophie said. 

This helped calm my nerves a little bit, but something in my gut told me something was going to go wrong.

“Oh no, there might be a magic show. Absolutely,” Nate said which counteracted Sophie’s statement and its effects. “We might want to treat these people to the illusionist extraordinaire!”

Eliot and Nate laughed a bit as Nate bowed to the empty auditorium. I tried to laugh with them, but all that came out was a shaky breath. To counteract this, I turned my attention back to the props, including the birds, and pantomimed the motions of making them appear and disappear. I vaguely heard Sophie say something about Nate getting a girlfriend, but I was too focused on practicing the few tricks that I remembered. 

My gut turned out to be right, unfortunately. Instead of giving an hour long speech, Erik Casten’s speech was barely five, keeping it ‘short and sweet.’

“...and let’s give a warm welcome to… Harry Turner, illusionist extraordinaire,” Erik finished. 

“Shit,” I said, mostly to myself. 

“That’s you,” Sophie realized. “Hey, you’re on.”

“Parker, I need my assistant,” Nate said into the comms, as the other three were somewhere in the building going to hack the servers. 

“How come Parker gets to be the assistant?” she asked. 

“How come Nate gets to be the magician?” Hardison asked. “I do card tricks too. I do great card tricks.”

The rest of them were bickering over comms, asking about doing each other's jobs, while the stage was sitting empty. I eventually shoved past Sophie and Nate to get on stage, ignoring the nerves and my rapidly beating heart. I approached the center of the stage and looked at the crowd of people sitting in the previously empty auditorium.

“Hello Lillian Foods!” I said, trying to decide if the waver in my voice was noticeable to anyone else. “As you might suspect, I don’t quite fit the name ‘Harry Turner.’”

To my relief, the crowd laughed a bit which drowned out the bickering still going on in my ear. 

“To everyone’s relief, as well as my own, that is not my name. I am Harry’s apprentice. You may call me Miss Birdie.” The thought of changing my stage name crossed my mind, but I thought it was easier this way. As some people in the crowd said hi to me, using the name, it made me smile. “I think I am on the same page as most of you when expecting a big long speech from your vice-president. And while you may all have been relieved…” 

The crowd cheered and laughed as they could see where this was going. 

“My mentor was not as prepared as he should have been to be on stage this soon, that is where I come in. I’m sure any interns in the audience know the feeling.”

That got a particularly large roar from the crowd. I glanced off stage where Nate and Sophie were arguing still, though not as much as before. Nate gave a pointed eyeroll and shrug at me which encouraged me to continue. 

“I must apologize as I am a little more familiar with close up magic, so let me know if you can’t see anything and I’ll try to make it work. Do you see what is in my hand?” I raised my hand to show some quarters pinched between my fingers. 

The crowd responded in the affirmative before I continued. I did some subtle disappearing tricks before making them reappear with the exception of one. 

“Hmm, it seems I lost a quarter somewhere… Any ideas?”

The crowd booed a bit with the skeptics yelling out where the quarter could be. ‘In your hand! In your pocket!’ etc etc. 

“In my pocket?” I asked, I pulled out my pockets inside out and a few coins came out. “There's some coins, but they look like pennies to me, how about my coat pockets?” I took my blazer jacket off and shook it upside down. A comically large amount of pennies fell out of it. “I need some help examining all these coins… Is there a Dave Bickle in the audience today?”

There was some cheering in one corner as he stood up. 

“Dave, do you mind coming up here and helping me?” He started to walk over before I added, “Bring your coffee, I know you can’t live without it.” 

The crowd chuckled as he came up, coffee in hand. I asked him if he saw my missing quarter anywhere in the spread coins, which he said no. When he wasn’t paying attention, I was able to slip the ‘missing’ quarter in his coffee mug. I was glad it was a mug rather than a covered cup or tumbler, which made it easier. I made sure there was no splash and that it was out of sight for most of the audience. 

“Well, I guess I’m too good at making things disappear, but not great at making them come back… You know something about that, especially with coffee, huh, Dave?” I knew I was milking this bit, but Mr. Price didn’t give us much to work with for crowd work. When Dave laughed and took a sip of his coffee he came out with the quarter in his mouth. I held up my handkerchief to take it back from him, “Oh! You found it, thanks, that’s my bus money for later!”

The crowd laughed and gave a little applause as Dave went back to his seat. I glanced over to Nate to see Parker had joined him and Sophie backstage. I took this as an okay for me to finish up since they seemed a bit more prepared now. 

I quickly introduced Nate as Harry Turner and had him come on stage for his performance. He graciously brought me a broom to sweep up all of my pennies so they wouldn’t interfere later.

“That was really good, y/n! You have all the skills of a pickpocket with sleight of hand, why didn’t you mention it earlier?” Sophie congratulated me once I got off stage. 

“I have blocked out those memories up until yesterday and to be completely honest, I can only half hear you over the blood pumping in my ears right now, how is everything else going?” I kind of laughed to myself, I couldn’t believe I had done that. As I picked up the coins from the floor I could see that my hands were still shaking. 

“That’s natural after being in front of a lot of people, we’ll get you trained up as a grifter and thief in no time!”

I smiled at her sentiment, but didn’t encourage it. As I slowly calmed down I could hear that things were not going great upstairs; Erik had the same idea as we did: accessing the server room while everyone was downstairs. Except he was deleting the files we were trying to access. 

Hardison and Eliot were able to make it up to a higher level to gain access to the computers but they needed higher clearance authorization to gain access. Nate was able to gain Mr. Price’s fingerprints by simulating a trick on stage, but then Hardison said we needed him for retina scanners as well. Nate caused Mr. Price to ‘disappear’ in a magic box by switching it out for an empty one. Sophie and I pushed the box Mr. Price was in to the elevator and shipped him up to Eliot and Hardison. 

It wasn’t long after Sophie and I returned to the backstage that Hardison gave an ‘uh oh’ in addition to the fact that Erik had deleted all of the files before he could get to them.

“Uh oh? What do you mean uh oh?” Eliot asked.

I heard a security guard demand that he get out of the elevator.

“Oh. That uh oh.”

Sophie and I looked at each other in worry and returned to the elevator as we heard Eliot beat up some guards. 

The elevator opened and Eliot stepped out over the guards, “Show’s over. We’re blown.”

“Nate, bring down the curtain,” Sophie said. 

“We’ve got to go!” I added. 

The three of us made our escape and listened for the others to do so. We all made it out with the exception of Hardison who had been caught in the locked junction room where he accessed the servers. They had brought Hardison out of the building to try and find the rest of us when Parker swiped Erik’s phone. 

Nate proceeded to call one of the guards and talk to Erik on his own cell phone and blackmail him into removing the frozen food line that was contaminated off the shelves. He did so by planting the company’s patents on Erik’s phone. The client was there to stick the final nail in the coffin by informing Mr. Price and getting Erik fired.

When we rendezvoused at Nate’s apartment, the rest of us were unwinding and eating dinner while Nate continued to research clients… Working. 

Sophie voiced her concern about him.

Eliot shrugged her off saying that he’s fine. The fact that we pulled this one off proof that he’s at the top of his game. 

“Well that’s the problem. He keeps winning.” Sophie said, “And everytime he wins he believes a little bit more that he can control… life.”

“It’s what gets him through the day,” he replied. 

“What happens when he loses? The last time he lost, it broke him. He breaks again… I don’t think even we can pick up the pieces.”

I didn’t know what to say to that since I thought she might be right. Instead, I stood and moved to the fridge behind Eliot to see if there was anything there that tickled my fancy. Eliot followed me with his box of takeout, leaning against the counter beside me. 

“Do you want some of this Kung Pao?”

I looked at it for a second before grabbing some chopsticks off the counter and grabbing a bite.

“So, you really know some of that magic stuff, huh? I heard it over comms, the crowd was digging it,” Eliot said between bites.

I laughed, “Yeah, a little bit.” I took another bite before saying, “I didn’t get to do my signature trick though.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiled, “show me.”

I thought about it for a second before obliging him. I moved to tuck some hair behind his ear, a slight misdirection. He watched me closely, eyebrow raising slightly at my movement. When my hand was slightly out of his sight, I flipped my wrist and released the dove that was sleeping comfortably in my sleeve. It made a louder rustling noise than I had anticipated, but he didn’t even flinch. I pulled my hand back so I could show him the bird sitting on my finger.

He smiled as he looked at it. He then looked between me and Nate, “birdie.”

I nodded, “Birdie, but he’s the only one that can call me that.”

He laughed and stroked the bird, “That’s alright. I’ll stick to sweetheart.”

A/n: Reblogs and comments are welcome and encouraged! Thank you for reading!

Tags: @isoldeahlstrom @kniselle @technikerin23

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @eclecticwildflowers, @illiana-mystery (thanks for the idea)

warnings: menstruation, swearing

“(Y/N), I’ll need you to be the distraction. Sophie will be with the diplomat and Parker will be…” Nate was wrapping up the briefing.

“in the vents.” Parker said with a smile. I nodded with a small grimace. Eliot was leaning over the couch behind me and gently bumped me. Nate nodded with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes. Parker will be in the vents.” Nate finished. “Eliot is going to be fairly busy keeping the security detail…incapacitated.”

“I get it Nate. I’ll come up with something.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach and passed off my grimace with a smile. “Hardison, you got any ideas?” Hardison shrugged and went off to work on getting into the security system remotely. Eliot stood up and I followed him. “Any good ideas for a distraction?” I asked when we got to our room to change.

“I mean you could always go off on the wait staff.” Eliot suggested. I made a face and he nodded. “Agreed. Too snotty and uppity. What about faking an injury?” As he said that, a wave of pain rolled through my abdomen.

“that could work.” I said, playing off anything I might have to done to hint I was in pain. Eliot looked at me for a second before putting on a Henley and kissing me goodbye. I finished getting dressed and headed out to get in the truck with everyone else. My discomfort grew but I sucked it up for the sake of the team. We all went out separate ways as we reached the venue. “El?” I asked softly.

“I hear ya.” I smiled to myself and kept walking. “Damn you look good.” I laughed quietly.

“holed up in security?” I asked, gauging the room. I spotted Sophie and gave her a small nod as I passed by.

“unfortunately. Hardison needed a usb placed.” Eliot responded.

“and if that’s done, could you two stop flirting over my comms? Worse than walking in on you two doing the nasty.” Eliot and I both laughed at the disgust in hardison’s voice.

“you’re just sad because you have to stay in the truck all night.” I shot back. “When there’s plenty of gorgeous women out here for you to run off with.” There was some upset grumbling from hardison and I could hear Nate trying not to laugh.

“alright. Enough. We need the comms clear.” Nate finally spoke up and we all stopped talking. “Alright. Time for the distraction (Y/N).” Nate said about twenty minutes later. I let out a whimper so quiet I hoped no one caught it before letting myself collapse. I wrapped my arms around my abdomen and moaned loudly.

“(Y/N)?” Eliot asked, concern dripping from his voice. I could hear shuffling around and hardison broke through briefly but I couldn’t focus on what he was saying. A crowd was forming around me and I curled in on myself. I caught a glimpse of Sophie walking off with the diplomat and Parker giving the clear through the comms. “I’m on my way (Y/N). Keep the distraction going. We’re improvising.”

“oh god.” I moaned. Eliot chuckled, chalking it up to me being in actual pain as well as a comment on the team. Eliot broke through the crowd a few minutes later and he lifted me into his arms. Carrying me out, he took me back to the van and shrugged his jacket off.

“why didn’t you tell me?” He whispered as he wrapped it around my shoulders.

“you would have made me sit this one out. And we needed all of us.” I said, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face. “I’m fine el. Just really sore.” Eliot kissed my forehead.

“I’m pampering you when we get back to my place.” He insisted. I nodded with a smile, cupping his cheek.

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” I laughed. Eliot smiled at me and kissed me as Sophie and Parker climbed in after us.

“alright. Let’s move out!” Nate called as hardison threw the van into gear and drove off towards our safe house.

[thegeeksideofsr]

Recovery

I'm alive!!!!

Life has been busy and I've had this tucked in my drafts for awhile. I hope to get back into writing, both Eliot fics and some original stuff if anyone is interested.

But in the meantime, I give you this!! Not a full fic, but a blurb that takes place just after Blood Stains .

The doors to the trauma room swing open, causing the three of us to jump. I open my eyes and look at the doctor, as he walks towards us.

"You're here for Detective Baker?"

"Yeah that's us."

"We stopped the bleeding. The bullet entered his left side, it nicked an artery but you got to him in time. If you hadn't slowed the bleeding when you did he wouldn't have made it."

"He's gonna be ok?" Hardison asks.

"In time, yes. He also has cracked ribs, we treated them, between that and the gun shot wound, he should be on his feet in a month or two. He's being moved to recovery as we speak. We had to give him a mild sedative."

Parker huffs out a laugh.

"He's not gonna like that," She mumbles.

"Can we see him?" I ask the doctor.

He looks at me, he takes a breath but hesitates.

"Family only, I'm afraid."

"We are family."

He doctor watches me a moment more before he nods.

"Alright. But one at a time. He's still under sedation, but I'm sure he'd appreciate a familiar face when he wakes up."

"Thank you."

I look at Parker and Hardison, ready to ask if one of them would like to go first, but Hardison speaks before I can.

"Go. We need to grab a change of clothes and talk to Nate and Sophie. We will be back later.

I nod, the turn to the doctor. He gestures for me to follow him, he leads me down a hall and through a few corridors, coming to a stop in front of a door.

"He's in here. You can press the call button if you need anything."

I nod to him, then watch him walk to the nurses station at the end of the hall. I take a deep breath then open the door.

Seeing him laying is surreal. He lays so still I would have thought he was dead if it weren't for his chest moving and the heart monitor on the wall making a soft beep with his heartbeat.

I sit in a chair next to the bed, I hold his hand in mine. It's lost most of the warmth it usually holds. Normally he's the one who hold my hand when something happens, but now that it's him, it feels like a dream. Like I'll wake up and he will be yelling at Hardison for something.

But it's not a dream. He lays there, almost looking small, chest rising and falling steadily, his hair his spread out on the pillow, the usual crease between his eye brows is smoothed out. A peaceful look replacing the near constant scowl he wears.

I bring his hand to my face to press a kiss to the back of his hand, threading my fingers between his.

"Please wake up soon," I whisper.

I lay his arm back down with out letting go of him. I lay my head down next to his hand, letting my eyes close again, the quiet beep from the monitor lulling me to sleep.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The sound of the door opening jerks me awake. I sit up and look at the door to find a nurse coming in. She looks at me and smiles, then walks to the monitor on the other side of the bed, she then checks the IV bags and tubing to Eliot's arm.

" Is he ok?" I ask her.

"At the moment, the sedative should were off soon. It's good your here. He's a lucky man to have you here for him."

I smile at her then turn to Eliot. I must have a look on my face because the nurse speaks again, a knowing tone in her voice.

"You're in love with him."

"What?" I snap to look at her.

"I can see it in the way you look at him. I've seen that look before in couples."

"We aren't a couple."

"Mmmm. Maybe you should fix that. You almost lost him today. It would be tragic if something happened again and he wasn't as lucky as he was this time."

I look at her. She right, but telling him now feels like the wrong time.

"It complicated. We are best friends and partners, if my feelings did something to jeopardize that, I don't think I could handle it."

She nods then heads to the door.

"Call me if you need anything, dear."

"I will."

I stand and pace the floor at the foot of the bed, worrying my lip and playing with the hem of my shirt. A quiet groan from the bed catches my attention.

Turning back to Eliot, finding a small frown drawing his eyebrows together. I walk back to the side of the bed, whispering his name as I take his hand in mine, pressing the back of it to my cheek.

He squeezes my hand, his grip not as strong as it usually is, it still causes a smile to spread across my face. His head rolls towards me, the crease between his brows to deepens, his eyes open just enough to show his pretty blue eyes off.

" Hi." I say to him, tears blurring my vision.

"Hi," he grumbles, then looks down to my chest. "That's my shirt."

I huff out a teary laugh.

"That's all you have to say after nearly dieing?"

"Nearly died before. Never seen you in my shirt before."

I shake my head at him, then move to hit the call button so the nurse can check on him now that he's awake, but he grips my hand tighter, stopping me. I look at him with a questioning look, but he just stares at me.

"What?"

"Was that true?"

"Who?"

"What the nurse said."

My heart drops.

"You heard that?"

"Yeah. Was just coming out of it."

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves.

"What does it matter if it was true?"

"It matters."

A silents settles over us. We sit there staring at each other as if we could read each other's minds.

He takes a breath to say something else when the door bursts open, Hardison and Parker falling in the door. I release his hand and move to stand at the end of the bed.

"Is he awake yet?" Hardison asks me.

"Yes, dumb ass, I'm awake, and you are too damn loud."

"Well good to know you're already back to normal."

Eliot huffs out a laugh, then holds his side, face scrunching in pain.

"I'm gonna get the nurse." I say as I walk out of the room. I hear Eliot say my name but I ignore it and continue to the nurses station.

I find the same nurse that checked on Eliot earlier and tell her that he's awake and seams to be in pain. She nods then heads to his room.

I don't follow her, I stand at the counter of the station trying to figure out what Eliot meant by his response. I decide to let it go. He's probably high on pain meds, and probably won't remember that conversation tomorrow, just act like every thing is normal.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Eliot Spencer Tag list :

@katbratsupernaturalwhore @fictional-hooman @skyeofbees

[apocalypse-shuffle]

ALEC HARDISON (leverage)

────────────────────

────────────────────

“Break” (Alec Hardison x Fem!Reader)

| You visit Alec to let off some stress and to get out of your own head.

| NSFW, 18+, minors dni, cockwarming, oral (male receiving), spacing out, sub space?

| Since Leverage: Redemption season two just came out and I watched Black Adam yesterday I’m gonna finally post this. Or not! It’s been, like, almost a full year since I wrote this.

| 1k+ words

Beg. NOTES: Listen, I don’t know how much of an audience reader insert fics with Hardison have (very little from what I’ve seen), and I don’t want to intrude by posting this, but hey! Without risks you’re not truly living, right? ALSO, I love Alec and Parker together and I love the OT3, okay? Don’t come for me.

You close your laptop only a little harshly, finally done with your work for the day. Now you could read or do something else to decompress and rest your eyes from the strain of your computer screen, but something is pushing you towards your boyfriend in specific.

You know he’s doing a virtual campaign right now so you haven’t seen him in a few hours, but he’s never rejected your presence as long as you weren’t disruptive, so? You shrug and walk off towards his room. No harm in testing it out. You feel the tiniest bit depraved of your Alec and you wanted to give your mind a break anyways.

He turns to you languidly, no startling and no obvious irritation on his face. You nod to yourself and softly click the door closed.

“Hey,” his voice is soft and he gives his usual bright utterly smitten smile that makes you want to die (in a good way). “Class go well?”

You smile just as sappily back at him and revel in the way it makes him soften even more.

“It was alright,” you incline your head as he chuckles. “I could use some of your company though. You know, if it’s not too much to ask?”

His eyes widen briefly before he starts hurriedly moving things around.

“Yea- yeah, girl. Come right ahead, you know I always got time for you,” he takes a second to unmute to declare he’s present since he was apparently on hold because of complications on somebody’s end. He beckons you over right afterwards. “You have something to do?”

You shrug, dropping down on all fours.

“I have four hours to waste, which means I have four hours to relax. If you wanna fuck around some?”

“Oh,” he breathes. He knows exactly how you like to fuck around when you’re stressed.

Alec looks at you wide eyed for the entire time it takes you to cross the room to his desk. Snapping out of it only when you’re kneeling in front of him and running your hands up his thighs.

He makes a choked noise, hand snapping up to cover his mike and pull it away from his mouth even with it being off.

“Jesus, baby, are you sure?”

His voice is rushed but he’s looking at you with obvious interest. You smile up at him before leaning in and ghosting the tip of your nose over where you know his cock is hiding in his basketball shorts.

You make eye contact, “Please?”

Alec’s leg jumps.

That, the soft needy question you pose, is all he needs because in a second he’s reaching his hand back for one of his pillows and dropping it down for you to kneel on. You do so with a small chuckle and a “thank you.”

He’s trembling and giving you the most eager looks in between participating, voice mainly only keeping steady because you’re not trying to distract him. You just want him in your mouth, no mischief needed. Though he is fidgety partially because he knows if the inclination struck you you could easily embarrass the hell out of him.

You laugh and move to pull his pants down his thighs with his assistance. Once he’s free to your satisfaction you brush the lightest kiss to his happy trail. He sighs, meeting your gaze intermittently as he plays through his turn. In response you trail featherlight kisses down to his dick, which is steadily hardening for your consideration, kiss at his base and then travel down to lick over his balls.

His voice stutters harshly over his next sentence and you smile before pulling away. He gives you this panicked desperate look, making as if he’s about to start complaining you, but you wave him off.

“Easy baby,” you mouth right before making him gasp by kissing his tip and then wrapping your lips around his head.

You keep your pace easygoing as Alec stutters and stops over his words; as he trembles against you, dick twitching while you slowly engulf him.

You wring your first moan out of him when you’ve gotten him all the way down your throat, mind steadily blanking on anything other than the weight of him on your tongue and the slight twinge in your jaw, when the back of your throat swallows over his head.

His head drops down and his hand clumsily snaps out to mute his microphone.

“S-shit girl, oh my god. It’s like you’re trying to kill me -goddamn.” he groans at the hum you give him.

You barely fucking hear him, have no clue when he moaned that he nearly did it for everyone to hear. You're just losing yourself in the sensations. The way he pulses in your mouth, the occasional twitch as he struggles not to fuck into your throat, how your jaw feels, the stretch of your lips, and then the drool running clear like polished glass down your chin and dripping onto Alec’s balls.

You sigh and go limp against him when his hand moves to your head. He burrows his fingers into your thick curls to get a firm grip but doesn’t do anything else. You swallow around his cock again in thanks, only in tune with the way it makes him shift against you. In the strangled noise he makes. The fact he’s on call isn’t even a factor any more; just his pleasure and how he feels in your mouth.

Your eyes flutter shut happily as he scratches blunt nails against your scalp.

“God baby,” he gasps and you whine just the tiniest bit, pussy twinging between your legs. Your hands don’t move from their position in your lap though.

Alec’s got you. The thought echoes in your mind nicely as you hand over control. You don’t have to worry about anything else but him.

- - -

Alec curses above your head, completely unregistered by you, and then rushes to get himself excused. You’re making him feel so fucking good and for that you deserve all his attention -and boy does he want to give it. Plus, you dropped so fast that he’s a bit worried about you; it typically took way more coaxing from him to get you out of your head.

He’s extra careful with his movements as he logs off and shuts down his setup. His eyes draw fully to you once he’s done and don’t leave. You were too pretty like this, face relaxed like it only ever was in sleep with your lips stretched to accommodate his girth.

He brushes his free hand over your face when he shifts too much for your liking and you let out an utterly disparaging whine.

“Shh, baby, it’s alright. You’re doing so good for me, you know that? I got you I promise,” he grinds forward the smallest bit, moaning when you squeeze down. “So damn good.”

NOTES: Hi, hope you enjoyed! I don’t know shit about dnd so I kept this as vague as possible, and I didn’t use gaming because I know even less about that shit.

I’ll catch any typos later!

I just got back on my Leverage bullshit and so now I feel I must finally blow the thick layer of built up dust off of this draft and post it. Keep in mind though that I have since turned this fic into another - heavily edited - Peter Parker fic with a similar premise because of how scared I was to post a “Hardison x Reader” story, let alone a smutty one. (I know, self plagiarism; the horrors! The whole idea of “self plagiarism” is nonsense anyway, but I digress.)

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it! this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

[security-chief-odo]

The Gala Job - Chapter 2

Eliot Spencer x Reader

click here for chapter 1

Description: Celebratory drinks with the team, but you can't keep your mind (or your eyes) off of a certain hitter.

• • •

As you entered, the whole team was sitting at a table, Parker and Hardison seated next to each other across from Nate and Sophie, leaving you to sit across from Eliot.

You walked to the bar to get your first drink before settling in next to Sophie. Nate leaned behind her and said “Great work today.”

It wasn’t much, but that little reassurance made you smile. Nate was a good man and it meant a lot to know he thought well of you too.

You both leaned back into the rest of the conversation. As if he had been waiting for his cue, Hardison began detailing the files found on the flash drive.

There was mountains of evidence against Whitehall and Apex. They had been falsifying records, evading their taxes and embezzling funds. This should bring them down for good.

They deserved it. They had hurt so many people.

He deserved it. He almost hurt you.

You glanced over at Eliot, watching the way he subtly wrung his hands together. Those hands could fill your thoughts for days, but the way they pulled against each other portrayed too much stress. He deserved better.

Hardison broke down file after file, detailing every way this company was screwed. This would guarantee they would lose the ongoing lawsuit and get Whitehall plenty of jail time. As you listened to him talk, your eyes drifted around the bar. This pub felt weirdly like home to you. Maybe it was just the people that felt like home.

Conversation started to drift off of the current case and onto past cases. Parker regaling you with stories of theft, that you may have heard dozens of times, but impressed you nonetheless. Sophie detailing some lavish jewelry that she managed to steal.

“I’ll be right back” you said, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom.

As you exited the stall to wash your hands, you saw Sophie by the sink, clearly waiting on you. “So I wanted to ask” she began “are you doing ok? I know Whitehall had you cornered and you seem a little out of it tonight.”

“Sorry to have worried you. I’m ok, just a little lost in thought is all.” You chuckled softly, adding, “In fact, I was enjoying this job until things went south. Whitehall is a terrible gut, but –”

“He was nice to look at?” Sophie chimed in.

“Not my type.” you sighed “The food there though was wonderful. I kind of wish the case had taken a bit longer. Didn’t even make it past the hors d'oeuvres.”

“Not your type?” Sophie asked incredulously. “The man looked like he walked straight in off the runway or straight out of a catalogue.”

You shrugged, “Rich, pretty boys just aren’t my type.”

“You had the undivided attention and admiration of an incredibly wealthy man and all you have to say is that he isn’t “your type?’”

“Well we both know how he got that money, so that’s hardly a selling point.” you tried to laugh it off, knowing damn well why you weren't even slightly enamored by the affections of Edgar Whitehall. Regardless of your moral objections to the man, he never stood a chance.

You both headed back towards the table. You glanced at the table from across the bar, looking at your friends, and perhaps lingering on Eliot longer than you meant to. You heard Sophie add an excited “ Oh!” you turned back to look at her as she continued “He didn’t catch your attention because someone else already has it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Sophie” you tried to brush her off, rolling your eyes as you walked back to your seat.

“Whatever you say” she replied, taking her seat next to you. Hardison continued his story, though everyone at the table was eyeing you and Sophie suspiciously now.

Eliot shot you a curious look. You mouthed “It’s nothing” back at him and hoped that would be enough to get everyone to drop it. You looked back to the table and the moment you caught Parker’s eyes, that hope was lost.

“What were you two just talking about?” She pointed between you and Sophie.

“Nothi–” you tried to rush out before being promptly cut off by Sophie.

“Our Y/N here has a little crush”

You tried to avoid looking at Eliot as you replied “Or Sophie is just jumping to conclusions and has no idea what she’s talking about.”

This didn’t help much as Parker and Hardison took turns asking you rapid fire questions.

“Is it someone we know?” Hardison started.

“Is it a guy?

“A girl?”

“Can we meet them?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Why haven’t you just asked them out yet?”

“Who is it?”

“That’s enough guys!” Nate snapped at them both.

You mouthed “Thank you” at Nate. You weren’t quite sure they would have backed off nearly as quickly for you.

“I’m gonna go grab another round of drinks.” you said, excusing yourself once again.

Both Parker and Hardison mumbled “Sorry” as you stood up. You know they were just excited. They didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but as you stood up you caught Eliot still looking at you.

You ordered everyone’s drinks. As the bartender walked away you felt someone walk up behind you.

“I figured you could use a hand in carrying those all back.” Eliot’s voice rang through your ears . Shit.

“I appreciate it.” You thought that if you didn’t bring it up, maybe he wouldn’t either, and the silence you were met with briefly let you believe that.

“So who is this new lover of yours?”

“He’s not my–” you cut yourself off realizing you’d said too much.

“So Sophie was right. There is someone.” He grins, clearly satisfied with himself. “Who is he?”

“Why do you care, Eliot?”

“Because I care about you sweetheart.”

“Not your sweetheart” you retorted.

“Why are you keeping it a secret hun? Is it one of us? It’s me isn’t it?” The joking tone of voice at the prospect of you having feelings for him stung more than it should have. Luckily, this conversation could come to an end as the bartender handed you the drinks.

“In your dreams Spencer.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’m in yours.” He winked at you as he sat down across from you.

The night went on, the topic of your love life no longer being of interest. The team was now discussing plans for hypothetical vacations, and places they legally couldn't vacation. They waxed poetic about dream purchases, and dream thefts.

Nate was the first to leave. He had been nearly dozing off for probably the last fifteen minutes.

Sophie followed him out the door saying “Well, I better make sure I get him home safely before I head home.” The rest of us looked at each other knowingly. She wasn’t heading home. She never did when she took Nate home. They would stagger their entrances the next day to be almost exactly five minutes apart, and, like always, we would all pretend not to notice.

Hardison was the next to stand up, looking at you and Eliot, “I can drive you both home before we head back, if y’all would like.”

“Thanks Alec” you said, gathering your things. The others stood up too, and you all headed out into the cold wintery night together. Hardison took the wheel, while Parker sat shotgun. You and Eliot sat behind them. You glanced up at Eliot to find him already looking at you. It took so much restraint to not just stare into those beautiful blue eyes, but you managed nonetheless.

The van came to a stop a few blocks from your apartment building. Eliot chimed in, looking at you, “This would be my stop, but if you want, I can walk you home first.”

You hesitated for a second, not wanting to make him go out of his way just to walk you home. Maybe it was something in the air, but between that southern accent and his puppy dog eyes, there was never really a chance of you turning him down that night.

You got out, telling Hardison to drive safe. Stepping into the bitter cold, you started to regret letting Eliot talk you into this.

Staring daggers at Eliot as you shivered harshly, you asked “Damn it Eliot. Why Did you talk me into this? It’s so damn cold”

The amusement in his smile as he turned to face you was both the most infuriating and endearing reaction he could have had. It took everything in you to maintain your anger, if only as your only guard against melting as you looked at him.

Eliot shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. Chuckling, he added, “You know, you’d be a lot warmer and maybe less grumpy if you dressed for the weather.”

You tried to laugh off the butterflies forming in your stomach as you sunk into his jacket, “Then why is it that you’re always so grumpy?”

He rolled his eyes at you and you walked in contented silence until you approached your building. “Let me walk you to your door?” he offered.

“Yeah, come on up.” You led the way up a few flights of stairs, had you looked back you would have seen Eliot Spencer, international criminal, looking at you with a look of pure softness. You didn’t look back, and you didn’t see a thing.

Faster than you had hoped, you reached your door. “This one’s mine. Thank you for keeping me company El. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He started to turn away as you put the key in your door, then you felt his hand gently grab your wrist as he said “Wait, Y/N. I wa—”

You cut him off, “Oh shit, your jacket.” You started to slide it off your shoulders as he looked at you in confusion.

“No, not that sweetheart.” He laughed nervously looking at the ground. “What I was trying to say was that I like you Y/N. I think I might even love you.”

“That isn’t funny Eliot”

“What? I wasn’t trying to be funny”

“Eliot, I don’t know what Sophie told you, but this isn’t funny. Yes, I have feelings for you, hell, my heart races everytime I look at you, but I can push past that. I don’t need your pity or for you to pretend to have feelings for me.”

Stepping closer, he gently grabbed your face. Mere millimeters from your lips he whispered, “Darlin’, I ain’t pretending and I sure as hell don't pity you. I want you to be mine, if you’ll have me.”

Hesitating for just a moment, you steadied yourself with a hand on his chest and you kissed him. It was a chaste, tender kiss. You pulled away with a groan of disapproval from Eliot.

You unlocked your door before looking back at him, “Are you coming?”

• • •

Let me know if you want to join my taglist for this pairing or my general taglist!

Smut in chapter 3!

[theladyragnell]

Oh for the prompts!!!!! If you feel like it! Leverage OT3 with Parker and Eliot welcoming Hardison back from some time away?

(A quiet established relationship moment.)

Hardison always comes home the long way.

Eliot never had to teach him that, whatever he thinks of the ways Hardison does and doesn’t keep himself safe. Hardison skips from airport to airport for days at a time, sometimes, never less than three hops even if it could be a quick domestic flight. And when he’s coming home to them, wherever home is, he takes it even more seriously, so he always comes to them tired, jet-lagged, smelling like canned air and hopped up on whatever food he thinks to buy on his endless flights.

Tonight, Eliot picks him up at the New Orleans airport at two in the morning and doesn’t bitch about it. Hardison left Armenia two days ago, and Eliot doesn’t know how many flights he’s been on since then, though he’s pretty sure from one of the tags on Hardison’s suitcase that he broke up his flight path with a train trip somewhere in Europe.

“I think if I uploaded my brain to the cloud,” Hardison says as they pull away, slurring his words a little with exhaustion, “I would probably go evil, but in the time before I did, I could exist in all time zones at once and never have to deal with this again.”

“I don’t want to have to fight the evil robot version of you, man. There’s tea in the cupholder. Drink it.”

“I’m not taking your devil drinks.”

“Just drink it, Hardison.”

Hardison snorts, but he drinks, and even takes a second sip after making sure Eliot sees the elaborate series of disgusted faces that he makes over the nicest small-company chamomile tea he could find in the city. Even Sophie likes it, and she thinks herbal tea is heresy against the Queen or whatever. “Everything fine?” he asks as Eliot gets into another lane.

“Harry and Breanna are playing some nerd game together. Sophie’s out of town. Parker’s fine, waiting for you at home.”

Hardison lets out a long breath. “Good to know. Anything going on with you?”

“Tried a new gumbo place the other day. It’s pretty good, but not as good as the place we tried last time you were around.”

“Tell me all about it,” says Hardison, and Eliot does, in between navigating the city traffic that persists even at night, especially around the airport. It took them a long time to get to this point, where they can talk on their way home from the airport without a job on their minds and not needle each other. Eliot likes the peace, much as he hates to admit it.

Home this time is a place Hardison hasn’t been yet. They all switch apartments often, and this one has Parker’s alias on the lease, but Eliot stays at it most often, because it’s upstairs from a place that does good chili and has some actual cupboard space. He and Parker have been staying there together since Hardison took off on his flight home and as they park and Eliot takes Hardison’s bag for the last few steps as he stumbles his way around, Eliot can see the light on upstairs that says she’s there, or maybe on the roof watching them come, though Eliot doesn’t see the flash of movement that would give that away.

The second they’re upstairs, the apartment door opens and Parker flings her arms around Hardison’s neck, and Eliot moves on past them to put the bag down and give them a minute of privacy. The food he left is still keeping warm in the oven, and Parker must have gone out at some point, because there’s a six-pack of orange soda on the counter. Hopefully Hardison doesn’t see that before he sleeps.

The two of them come in together, Parker draped over Hardison’s shoulder. She beckons Eliot in, and he rolls his eyes but he goes, lets her give him a quick kiss and loop them into their hug, where Hardison leans in far enough to rest their foreheads together, weird as the angle has to be. They’ve figured out ways to fit three bodies together, over the years, but they’re all too tired to care about that right now.

“You should get some sleep,” says Eliot, because it’s true. “Need to eat first?”

“You should eat and then sleep,” says Parker. “Otherwise you’ll be cranky when you wake up.”

Hardison groans, but he doesn’t argue. Eliot breaks away from the hug to put things together, shoving the soda into an inhospitable corner of the counter while he goes and taking Hardison’s food out to plate and shove at him. This late, he’ll just eat standing over the kitchen island, and normally Eliot would complain that his food isn’t being appreciated, but Hardison could use a break. Tomorrow is soon enough to demand appreciation for being the only one of them who knows how to make a balanced meal.

“You’ll tell us all about how the job went tomorrow, right?” says Parker when he puts his fork down, a sign for Eliot to get back in action and put whatever is left away for them to eat the next day. “It sounded like you were having fun.”

“Only you could call sneaking through government buildings hiding from security fun,” says Hardison, but he’s smiling, so probably the calls weren’t too close. Eliot will make sure they talk about security evasion before he leaves again, that’s all. “But fun or not, it’s good to be back.”

“Welcome home,” says Eliot, and when Hardison gives him a dangerously misty smile, he rolls his eyes. “Now get to bed before you fall down, you know you’re going to wake up a million times tonight so you may as well get started.”

“Yeah, yeah, Eliot, love you too,” says Hardison, always so much easier with those words than Parker or Eliot ever can be, but he lets the two of them push him into the bedroom and into some sweatpants before climbing in beside him, taking the time together while they have it.

[make-me-imagine]

Headcanons: Taking care of each other when you are hurt (Eliot Spencer)

Headcanon Prompts: Taking care of them when they are hurt + Them taking care of you when you are hurt.

Requested By: @spuffyfan394

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of injuries/wounds, blood, pain, stitches, etc.

-

Taking care of him:

Eliot gets hurt a lot, like A LOT.

Pretty much on every con he's a part of.

So he is used to having to take care of his own injures.

When you joined the crew, before and after the two of you began dating, you would insist on helping him when he was hurt.

He wasn't used to someone trying so hard to help him, and wanting to, that it made him feel vulnerable in a way.

At first (before you were in a relationship) you just tried to be helpful. Bringing him bandages, cleaning solutions, bringing him stuff when he was having difficulty walking or getting places.

You never treat him like a child, or like he can't handle the pain. Which he appreciates, because he is not one to be coddled.

That being said, he does love when you are gentle with him, because you do not want to add to his pain.

Once you were in a relationship, and more comfortable physically, that is when you started to be more proactive in helping him when he was hurt.

You would change the bandages that were more difficult for him to reach. You'd help him clean off an blood after an injury. You'd tie back his hair if he was too hurt to mess with it.

You would give him massages when he was sore, had pulled muscles, or was suffering from his chronic pain from past injuries.

Sometimes you insist on running him a hot bath to soak in after a rough job.

He enjoys these baths, even if you make it a bubble bath, though he insists you never tell Hardison he enjoys a nice hot bath. (Because we all know Hardison would have a field day with this and probably by him rubber ducks just to piss him off)

You learned how to take care of serious wounds after you joined the team, including doing stitches. For those jobs when things go very wrong.

The first time you had to help Eliot with a knife wound, he watched you stare intensely at the wound stitching it up.

You were delicate enough not to add any needless pain, but you were thorough. He was impressed, and touched at your need to help him.

Later he asked you how you learned to do stitches, and you told him you learned from an old "acquaintance" who owed you a favor.

When he asked why you learned, you told him you learned for moments like this.

You learned in case he ever needed you.

This only made Eliot love you all the more.

Taking care of you:

Fortunately, you do not get hurt nearly as often as Eliot does.

But when you do get hurt, Eliot becomes protective and your own personal nurse.

He also always feels guilty when you get hurt, as he thinks he should have protected you - even in situations no one could have stopped.

You learned fairly early on that words only ease his guilt somewhat.

What helps him more, is you allowing him to help you.

Bandaging you up when needed, giving you proper medications or treatments. Just letting him help you recover.

He can over react a little, not really letting you do much.

Making you too much food to make you feel better, watching your every move to make sure you don't strain yourself.

And if the tam tries to get you back in a con too early? Uh-uh, he wont let that slide.

Eliot also tries is best to distract you from any pain you might be in. He will tell you a story, or jokes to make you laugh or smile.

He is surprisingly gentle with his care, as he never wants to be the one to cause you pain.

Eliot will softly kiss your bandages, and kiss your forehead/temple, and hands, if you are hurting.

He also draws you hot baths, using your favorite oils, salts or bath bombs. He will even light a couple candles for you.

And he always asks if you want him to join you; mostly as a joke, but also not really.

If you are seriously hurt, he will sit outside the bath with you, helping you, gently cleaning your arms and hair, something you have done for him a dozen times before.

Also, just putting this in here - anyone who hurt you, will definitely live to regret it.

xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Leverage/Eliot Taglists: @groovy-lady, @aaannabbanana, @peoniarose, @fablesrose, @spuffyfan394, @malindacath, @winnifredburkleismyhero, @that-marvel-simp, @gatefleet, @bthtallmadge2

[lemissingmask]

[ID: Dark red sketch of Hardison and Eliot sitting at a table together. Hardison is leaning forward on the table with his arms crossed, looking over at Eliot. Eliot, who had a beer and a whisky in front of him, is sitting back in his chair and looking uneasily back at Hardison. end ID]

-

Not happy with how this turned out, but I wanted some art to accompany a prompt fill ficlet, and had little time to refine either. There, enough making excuses for myself 😂 Ficlet below the cut and on ao3. It's set just after The Big Bang Job before the crew heads back to Boston, but after all their bomb disarming etc. shenanigans are done for the day.

-

Eliot had his back to the wall.

Not right up against it.  Just close enough to make it impossible for anyone to sneak around or behind him, and positioned to give himself an unobstructed view of most of the hotel bar.  And, most importantly, clear sight lines to the elevator and door - the only two ways into the room, and to his crew.  Parker and Hardison were sitting close beside each other at the bar, Nate and Sophie were sitting opposite each other at a smaller table, all four people and the areas around them visible to him.  Damien Moreau might have fled to San Lorenzo, but that didn't mean they were out of danger.  He had reach far beyond what anyone, including Nate, appreciated, and he was far, far more dangerous than the others seemed to comprehend.

Right now, they were all unharmed, and seemed outwardly unaffected by the events of the past few days.

That could very easily not have been the case.

Eliot knew he should have taken his shot at Moreau before Nate got this close. Taken their target out before anyone was in danger.

He could have done it, too.

Today had proved to Eliot that he was still the man he had once been.  Still capable of killing swiftly and efficiently, and without a fraction of a second's hesitation.

The elevator doors opened. Eliot watched intently, ready to move if anything about the occupants seemed threatening.  But it was just a group of tourists, laughing together, pretty drunk already, and without the least hint of danger about them.

But Hardison had stood up almost at the same time. If he was going back up to his room, that would be a problem. Eliot would have to decide where to situate himself, make a calculation regarding the potential dangers. Isolated in a room versus in a public area with witnesses.  One location easier to access but harder to achieve an unseen execution, the other more difficult to reach, but private.

Eliot would wait for privacy or a packed, bustling, environment to carry out a single target hit.  This bar was neither of those things.  Unless you could get poison subtly into a drink, it was a poor choice of location to carry out a hit.  A professional hitter would choose the hotel room or an empty hallway or elevator en route to the room.

Which gave him the decision - if Hardison chose to go up to his room alone, Eliot would follow.  Protect the more likely point of attack.

But Hardison wasn't going back to his room.

He was walking over and taking a seat beside Eliot, and he hadn’t brought his drink with him, so he was coming over to say something specific, not just to sit and talk.

Which was good.

Eliot didn’t feel like talking.

He felt frayed.

The ache in his back, his hands, and his knees that his hasty cold shower on returning had done nothing to soothe.  The much worse pain from all the memories seeing Moreau brought back. Seeing his men, seeing the man who had taken his place as Moreau’s personal lapdog, and feeling an infuriating hostility because some part of his mind still felt that was his position.

Eliot sat back in his chair so he could see Hardison without losing his view of the rest of the room.

He tried to appear unconcerned, indifferent. Hardison didn’t know what he had done, and he wanted it to stay that way.  He didn’t need to know that Eliot could still feel the weight of the guns in his hands, and that he could still smell blood and smoke and fire.

The hacker didn’t say anything for a while. He had come over for a reason, but he was struggling to get to it.

Eliot didn’t push.

He was too tired for that.

“Why’d you take me with you?” Hardison asked at last, “To meet with Moreau. You coulda handled it yourself. Did handle it yourself. And you would’ve been able to keep lying to us about you knowing Moreau.”

That last was said with an anger that was justified and understandable, but that point was one thing Eliot had no apology for.

He didn’t regret not telling them about his connection to Moreau, not one bit. If he had said something to them, Nate would have used it. Would’ve found a way to exploit that connection, go at Moreau more directly, and he would have destroyed them.

But Hardison should be angry. Eliot had put him in danger, done exactly the opposite of his job.  And, worst of all, he had done it for selfish reasons.  For pathetic reasons.  Because he was too afraid to go alone.

“Eliot?”

Hardison’s voice had softened. He sounded concerned, and he was looking intently at Eliot, examining him.

Could he see the smoke still on his skin, gunshot residue on his hands even though he had washed them repeatedly since returning?

“Hey man, look-“

“I shouldn’t have taken you,” Eliot cut him off, “I put you in danger…”

The sentence dissipated, his mind a confusion of what he should say, what he wanted to say, and the truth.

He’d never have let Hardison drown. He’d been counting the seconds, knew how long he had before he would have to save him, but that didn't justify putting him in that situation in the first place.

“So why did you?”

The gentleness of Hardison’s voice was wrong. It would be easier if he was angry.  That was the least Eliot deserved for what he had done.

But even when Eliot failed to answer, his voice was just as trusting, willing to understand, “It would’ve been the same outcome whether or not I was there, so just tell me why.”

“It wouldn’t. Have been the same,” Eliot replied, “If you’d not come.”

Hardison waited, silently asking Eliot to continue.

The hitter looked up, just briefly, met Hardison's gaze, “I'd have killed ‘im.”

“Atherton?”  Hardison shook his head in disbelief or disagreement, but Eliot cut him off before he could conjure some argument that framed Eliot as anything other than the killer he was.

“Moreau.”

The two guards at the elevator first so they couldn't follow and take his back. Eliot had already mapped it out when he approached them that day. How he would snap one’s neck, using him as a shield until he had a chance to get to the other. It would only have taken a couple of seconds.

Then he’d have taken their guns, felt the familiar weight of a weapon he had dismissed so long ago, and gone down to the basement.

The gunfight would have been messy, but he would have the element of surprise and cover from the pillars near the door.

He could do it.  He knew he could.  He’d done it before.

He’d done worse.

But he would have killed Moreau’s men, killed Moreau himself, without any hesitation or conscious thought, acting on training and experience and the instinct to survive.

Maybe he would get shot a couple of times in the process. Maybe he would get killed.  But he would have killed Moreau so he could never get near to, could never hurt, the people he cared about.

“Then I’m glad I did come with you,” Hardison said at last, "Like Sophie said, that's not who you are anymore."

Eliot wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. The blood of fourteen men was still fresh on his hands, the scent of fire and iron still cling to his skin and hair.

He is that man. He always would be. There was no escaping that devil, and it terrified him more than any bad guy, any army, and torture or brutal execution ever could.

“Yeah, I am” Eliot said quietly, speaking into his beer as he raised it to his lips seconds after Hardison had left him, returned to Parker, and said something that had the thief looking briefly, but intently, over towards him.

Of all the crew, she probably already knew, even if she didn't know she knew. She probably saw what Eliot had done in some part of his expression, and she somehow understood that, no matter what the others said, Eliot was still a killer. He was always going to be a killer, and he needed to be that for them.

He had given into his fear of that part of himself, and Hardison had suffered for it.

It was a mistake he would never make again.