#now I’m trying to think of repeat sayings between Parker and Eliot

[independent-fics]

I’ve just realized that Hardison and Eliot’s “high five for moral” the same as Hardison and Parker’s “kiss for luck”.

[yoyomarules]

Thinking a lot about this post and Eliot Spencer and the tough conversations, the arguments, about his limitations.

Eliot waking up in a room he takes too long to identify as one of their safe houses, head pounding. There’s a gauze dressing on his forehead, a bandage expertly wound around his right arm, his left in a sling. Hardison at his side, laptop open on his knees but with that slow pulsing dot of light on the back that means it’s in sleep mode. Parker in the window seat, knees pulled to her chest, the tension coming off her in waves even though she’s perfectly still.

‘You’re awake,’ Hardison says, closing the laptop. ‘How’re you feeling?’

‘Like I got kicked in the head a few times,’ Eliot grumbles. His throat is parched.

‘Yeah,’ Hardison says. ‘Getting kicked in the head’ll do that to you.’

He reaches for a glass of water, helps Eliot sit upright a little so he can sip at it.

‘Where we at with the job?’ Eliot asks.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Hardison tells him. ‘You oughta rest.’

‘But did you get the patent?’ Eliot pushes.

‘Eliot, it’s fine.’

‘But we only have today to—we need to get back in there.’ He tries to sit up further but Hardison’s gentle hands guide him back down again.

‘You ain’t going anywhere; you look like you walked off the set of The Mummy; lie down.’

‘Fine, then you two need to—’

Hardison’s hands still rest on his shoulders, though he’s being careful not to apply any pressure. ‘It’s done, okay?’

‘You got it?’

Parker and Hardison glance at each other.

‘No,’ Hardison says, after a moment. ‘I mean the con’s done. I blew my cover when I came in after you.’

There’s a silence.

‘You came in after me,’ Eliot repeats.

‘Yeah.’

‘What the hell were you thinking?’ he demands.

‘I was thinking I’d save your life,’ Hardison replies, and his voice doesn’t rise but it’s cut through with frustration all the same. ‘You’re welcome, by the way.’

‘That guy Meyer hired as security’s a stone-cold murderer, Hardison!’ Eliot says, and his voice does rise. ‘He could’ve killed you!’

‘Yeah, and he would’ve killed you!’ Hardison snaps. ‘He’d’ve killed you ’cause he recognised you and “put down the Eliot Spencer” looks good on a hired gun’s résumé! And don’t tell me you had it handled,’ he continues, as Eliot opens his mouth to speak, ‘’cause you didn’t have shit handled. Why didn’t you say your shoulder’s still acting up, huh?’

‘Shoulder’s fine,’ Eliot says automatically.

‘That’s crap, man, and you know it.’

‘Okay, sure,’ Eliot says. ‘So I was a little slower than normal. That don’t mean you blow the whole con.’

‘I’d make the same choice again,’ Hardison says. He jerks his chin toward Parker. ‘We both would, every time. Wouldn’t even hesitate.’

‘Hardison,’ Eliot growls. ‘We made a promise to that family.’

Hardison shakes his head. ‘We didn’t promise you’d die for it.’

‘So that’s it?’ Eliot asks. ‘We make even more of a mess of their lives and then fuck off, is that how this goes?’

‘We got options,’ Hardison says. ‘We already spoke to Tara; we’ll let things settle down, try again in a few months with new faces—’

‘He’s gonna be on the lookout for a scam, and in the meantime he could—’

‘I don’t care.’

Eliot glances across at Parker. She’s still got her arms wrapped around her knees, but she’s turned her face toward them for the first time since he woke up, and her eyes are red, her words raw.

‘Parker, this is our job,’ Eliot says.

‘I don’t care!’ she repeats. ‘I don’t care how many people lose their money or their home or—or—’

‘You do,’ Eliot protests. ‘You do care.’

‘—I’ll steal it myself if it means we don’t have to lose you!’ And then she’s on her feet and shaking herself and heading toward the door. ‘I need a minute,’ she says.

Eliot watches her go, stunned, and then turns to Hardison. ’You gotta talk to her.’

‘No,’ Hardison says. ‘You gotta listen to her. You know she’s blaming herself for this? ’Cause she didn’t plan for your shoulder and she was so focused on cracking the safe she didn’t realise you were in trouble.’

‘Well, it ain’t Parker’s job to get me outta trouble.’

‘It’s her job to try to stop you getting into it in the first place,’ Hardison says. ‘And this was way too close.’

‘I’m telling you, I woulda been okay—’

‘You would not have been okay.’

‘You saying I don’t know my own limits?’

‘No, I think you know your limits just fine,’ Hardison says. ‘I just don’t know that you’re telling us your limits.’

Eliot stares at him for a long moment and then takes a sip of water. Then another.

Hardison watches him. ‘There something you wanna tell me right now?’

Eliot sighs and rubs a hand over his eyes, kind of hoping Hardison might forget he asked. But he’s sitting there expectantly, watching, watching, and Eliot squirms under his gentle scrutiny until he can’t help but admit, ‘It ain’t just the shoulder.’

‘What else?’ Hardison asks, voice carefully neutral.

‘It’s…lately I’ve been…’ He sighs again. ‘It’s like I still know how a fight should go, right? How I can beat ’em, easy. Long as I’m at a hundred percent.’

‘How often are you at a hundred percent?’ Hardison asks quietly.

Maybe it’s the head wound, but it feels like hours pass before Eliot confesses, ‘Less often, these days.’

The words hangs in the air between them. Hardison’s face shifts between devastated and scared and maybe just the smallest bit relieved, and he says, ‘Okay. So we gotta… we just gotta figure out around that, okay? More time between jobs, more cons where you’re just grifting—’

‘Hardison, c’mon; we can’t—’

‘And we have to know when to pull the plug. And look, you’re right—no one knows your body better than you do. So you have to tell us if something’s too much, ’cause I’m with Parker. We can’t lose you, man. We won’t.’

And it’s not like Eliot’s not aware of that fact, after seven years working together and two of those together-together, but he still swallows hard before answering. ‘If I agree to tell you when I need you to come in, are you gonna listen to me when I tell you to stay put?’

‘I mean, yeah,’ Hardison says. ‘Unless you’re obviously being stupid or some Estonian merc is actively at this moment attempting to bash your brains in. Or both.’

‘He was Latvian,’ Eliot mutters.

‘Okay, well, let’s say any Baltic state,’ Hardison suggests.

He rolls his eyes. ‘Fine.’

Hardison seems, if not satisfied, then at least willing to let the conversation drop for now. Eliot pulls at a loose thread on the bedspread. ‘I think I gotta apologise to Parker,’ he says.

‘Yeah, you should.’

‘And I guess I gotta thank you, huh?’

‘I know,’ Hardison says. ‘This must be awful for you.’

Eliot looks him in the eye and says it with a little more force than necessary. ‘Thank you.’

Hardison grins. ‘No problem.’ He leans over and kisses the bit of Eliot’s forehead that isn’t covered in dressings. ‘Get some rest, all right? We’ll be here when you wake up.’

‘Yeah,’ Eliot says, letting his eyes drift shut. ‘Yeah, I know you will.’

[party-gilmore]

...well, I managed to get to literally JUST BARELY before the actual smut starts, so please enjoy this unbetaed 2k word teaser prologue of "demi/grayace Parker doesn't feel like she's Enough for Eliot without Hardison around, so he sets the record straight."

Set during The Hurricane Job, because who gives a damn if the ep is even OUT yet, am i right? XD

“Room 236.”

“What was that?” Eliot hums. His voice is muffled beneath the heavy, sopping weight of his jacket as he tugs the damn thing over his head. His shirt peels off right along with it, so he just shucks the whole shebang in the generic direction of his luggage. He’ll have plenty of time to see to it properly tomorrow - the storm will have them trapped at least another day. With a groan, he stretches out his bad shoulder. It’s not quite dislocated again, but it’s not quite right either. Two nimble hands sneak up from behind and flit their way over the shoulder blade, one bracing against the wet neck of his white tank top while the other presses swift and hard on the joint - and ‘pop’ goes the weasel.

Eliot flashes Parker a pained but soft smile through the old dresser mirror, but it falters when he catches her eyes peeking over his shoulder. There’s a look in them he isn’t familiar with, but doesn’t think he likes.

“Park-” he starts to turn around, but she manhandles him back away from her and shoves her hand into the back pocket of his jeans. No small feat tonight, they way the rain has soaked and damn near suction cupped them to his ass. “H-hey, woah, alright there darlin’, slow it down a bit,’ he chuckles, reaching back to feel for her, but she’s already hopping back and flashing a small, colorful rectangle at him.

“Room 236,” she repeats, flipping it around her fingers like a coin. Eliot frowns. They’re in room 225, just down the hall. They’d found what the crooked cops were after with time to spare, so there was nowhere left to search. Why then, would he still have a room key for-

Oh. He reaches back and pats the offending rear pocket, flushing as he remembers Marshall Shipp’s parting flirtatious wink and accompanying gentle smack on the ass as they’d parted ways a half hour ago. He hasn’t exactly been… discouraging her interest. It's felt good that women are still interested in him even as he’s put a few more miles on, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention - especially from someone as 'his type' as Maria.

Well, what used to be his type, at least.

He shoots a sheepish, apologetic grin at Parker. Maria’s ‘interest’ was quickly becoming ‘intent,’ and now Eliot needed to find a way to nip that in the bud sooner rather than later.

“Damn, I should’ve noticed the reverse lift,” Eliot clears his throat, toying with the edge of the pocket absentmindedly. “She must’ve slipped it to me after we completed the radio broadcast. I was uh, distracted by our success I guess.”

“Bet that’s not all she’d like to slip you,” Parker’s voice takes on a bit more of a playful tone for a moment. Cheeky, teasing. It feels like solid ground.

“Hey now,” Eliot teases back, starting to undo his belt, slow and deliberate, as he begins toeing out of his boots. “I can’t help that I still ‘got it,’ darlin’. I can think of a couple folks I know offhand that might like to, uh… 'slip me a little something' right now, 'specially since I'm properly alone with one of 'em for the first time since-” The only problem is, he forgot how damn difficult these boots are to get off on a good day, let alone when soaked through with salt water. Swearing under his breath, he abandons his attempt at being suave to sit at the end of the bed and fumble with the ties. He should know better than try to look cool for either of his partners nowadays. It never works out quite right, and he’s starting to get to the age where he doesn’t even see the use of that kind of posturing anymore himself. They’ve seen him at his worst already - mentally, physically, emotionally - so what would be the point, really? On top of that, he may make a fuss about his ‘cool points’ in front of Breanna, but he knows Hardison’s sneaky ‘dorkification’ process he's been slowly contaminating Eliot with over the last decade is almost complete. He's still drawing the line at DnD, but he doubts that'll last much-

“...or, if you wanted, you could go let her slip it to you.”

Eliot is too caught up in his own head to really register the suggestion at first. He's busy ruminating on how differently his younger self would be handling this whole situation - all smooth moves and hot edges, shucking off clothing with a kind of casual grace.

‘Yeah, those days have long passed,’ he thinks, hunched over and fighting the waterlogged leather of his boots with fumbling, aching fingers. He gets the first one yanked off his foot less than gracefully, wincing at his ankle’s unsubtle protest, before what Parker said finally processes.

Slowly, he sets his singular boot the side and shifts enough to face her. Parker’s tone didn’t hold any bitterness or bite, just nervousness and a bit of resignation. She isn’t looking at him, but out the window, arms wrapped tight around her midsection in a way he hasn’t seen her do in a while. She bounces restlessly on her heels. There’s a clear energy inside her looking to get out. The thunder rumbles lowly through the suddenly silent room, murmuring a warning through the curling reverberation in Eliot’s gut.

He starts out gentle. Easy.

“...now why would I wanna go an’ do somethin’ like that?” Sometimes it’s easiest to bring things to Parker head on, and she’ll respond in her usual stark, frank manner. Just lay it all right out in the open to be picked apart. This isn’t one of those times. Eliot can read that much in every restless tap, every rapid twitch of her eyes to some place else in the room, any place that isn’t him.

“She’s your type, isn’t she?” Parker’s voice is a higher register than it should be, but not quite into her panicking zone yet. That’s a start. “She’s badass, sexy… passionate.”

Eliot notices her leaning heavy on that last word, and frowns.

“So are you, Parker.”

“Not in the same way!” She turns a bit, still looking outside, but her arms unwrap from herself to gesture between them. “Not the same way you and Hardison are!”

It’s quiet for another beat. The white noise of the hissing rain against the window settles into the room with a steady, thrumming tension. Eliot doesn’t jump to demanding clarification like he might’ve done a decade ago, doesn’t snap and tell her to stop beating around the bush. He’s learned that Parker tucks away all the information he needs to understand in every phrase, no matter how inane or incongruent it may seem. So Eliot holds his tongue and chews on the words for a while.

“Me and Hardison, huh?” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and rubs his jaw in a performance of pensiveness. The movement draws Parker's attention and she finally looks over to him, following the back and forth of his fingers. He presses on, carefully. “Thought we were talkin’ bout me and the marshall. What’s Alec got to do with this?”

“Because he isn’t here!” Parker breaks, not enough to falter or crumble but enough to say what's on her mind before she can overthink it. "He isn't here and it's different! I can feel it! I'm not-" she fumbles her words for a minute, just waving between them again. "-all passionate about the whole sex thing like he is!"

There's that word again. Eliot knows where to go from here, at least. It's all about that word. He stands up, albeit a little awkwardly with one foot still in an inch high boot.

"Sure it's fun and I like it sometimes, but not like you two do! Alec balanced me out, could give you what you needed! I'm not… by myself, I'm not enough for… for y-..." Parker cuts herself before she can grow any more manic, bunching her face up and looking away again like she does when trying to stave off any waterworks before they can start.

Eliot can see her closing up again as her words fail her, but that's alright. What needed to get out made it out. He can take it from here. He hobbles over in his awkward, single-socked gait until he's close enough to take her shoulders in hand, but he doesn't pull her in for the hug. Not yet.

"Now I want you to listen to me, and listen good." Eliot makes sure his tone is firm, but gentle. Parker responds the way he'd hoped - still not looking, tilting her head down, but leaning toward him. Into his space. Receptive, and ready to hear him. "Yeah, it feels different. That's cause you and me? Are different from me and Alec. We're always gonna be. 'That makes us, us,' remember? Just like that's different from you and Alec. It's all part of 'us,' yeah, but it's… we got our own thing, Parker. And sure, we might like it best when it's all three of us, just because we love him so, so much, yeah?"

He lifts one hand from her shoulder and tucks a bit of hair back behind her ear, giving her a chance to respond if she wants. Parker murmurs a quiet "yeah," and steps in a little closer. Eliot tugs her in the rest of the way now, assured that she's open to the touch. She pillows her chin on the shoulder she fixed, and Eliot lays a light kiss to the outside of her ear before continuing in a lower voice.

"So… we miss him, when he's not here, and we don't have the 'all three of us' thing right now. That doesn't make our thing, the you and me thing, any less good. It doesn't- Parker, you're so much more than just enough for me. You're who I need... especially when we don't have Hardison. Don't ever doubt that."

"I'll try," Parker turns her head and mutters it into the crook of Eliot's neck, and he loves her all the more for it. It's better than any empty promise of 'I won't,' because he knows the honesty of it. Knows it's not just an empty platitude of 'I'll do it,' but the vulnerable admission of 'I want to, but don't know if I can.'

"That's all I ask, darlin'."

Because it is. That's all Eliot ever asks of her. To try. Never demands that she change, never insists she should be thinking of herself differently or more kindly than she does. Just that she tries to.

"Now. About this whole 'passion' thing," Eliot sighs, pulling back so he can do that thing he does to Hardison that Parker loves to watch him squirm under, but likes it a lot less when it's turned on her. That thing where he ducks his neck and tilts his head and looks up at her through his hair with that serious, intimate look that makes her want to run because he for sure can see all of her secrets like this but also want to sink deep into that comforting gaze and never leave it. "I don't know where you got this idea that you're not passionate from, but-"

"Yeah, but it's not-!"

"The same?" Eliot cuts off her half-hearted attempt at argument. "Course it's not the 'same' as us, Parker! You aren't us. So, you… you don't lose yourself in it the same way me and Hardison do, okay? Him and me, how we get high off each other, the way we act... so you don't do that. That's fine! That’s only one type of passion, darlin'. You can't tell me,” he lets his hands skim down Parker’s arms until they meet her own palms. “That the way you focus so damn hard on taking us apart - taking me apart…”

Eliot brings Parker’s hands to his hips, and her fingers start to fidget with the hem of his shirt. Anchoring herself with the ribbed texture of the tank. Starting to explore up his stomach the way Eliot knows that Parker knows he likes. She’d ferreted that one out of him ages before they’d even thought up this whole ‘you and we makes three’ train. He lets his voice go a little breathy, a little raspy, makes sure she notices how she's affecting him. “-the way you always know exactly how to do it, piece by piece, single-mindedly pulling me apart like a damn puzzle, Park… you can’t tell me that ain’t some kind of passion.”

“Yeah, but that’s just the same way I steal stuff,” Parker giggles a little, the familiar flutter of Eliot’s sides under her deft fingers grounding her and soothing some of the unease. He’s right about this. How she knows what to do with him. How good she is at it. But that’s not anything special, it’s just-

“Exactly, Parker,” Eliot is trying to walk them back toward the bed, but it’s not really working out well. Between his having only the one boot on and Parker actively seeking out the ticklish bits of his belly that make his knees go all wobbly when she scrapes her nails down them, it’s comical enough to startle another giggle out of her. Or it’s a sob. Or it’s a hiccup. Or it’s some weird combination of all three, she isn’t really sure, but it doesn't seem to really matter either. The sound is whatever it was, just like she is whatever she is.

“It's just like that. Just like how you plan your next score. And that’s your Thing. Like me and food, Hardison and his nerdery... Do you realize how that makes me feel? Knowing you treat me like a heist? Like the thing that you let define you?”

“Yeah but that’s not a sex thing, it’s just a me thing.”

“It doesn’t matter that it’s not a sex thing, Parker, it’s your passion. Your Thing. Yours.” Eliot finally makes it back to the edge of the bed and drops, pulling Parker into his lap. He guides her wandering hands to his chest so she can feel the rumble in his voice as he growls.

“Darlin’, you treat me like damn masterpiece. Like I’m standing smack under a spotlight in the middle of the Louvre, and the only thing in the world that matters to you is how you’re gonna pick through my security piece by piece until all that’s left under your hands is a canvas stretched tight as it’ll go and a picture meant only for you and the people you choose to see it."

Parker’s nails scrape against the skin of Eliot’s collarbone as her fingers instinctively curl in, wanting to grip take steal hold climb, and he barely restrains himself from throwing his head back in a moan. He needs to make sure Parker’s in the right place first, before he gives himself over to his own wants.

“Wow,” she whispers, damn near reverent now as she looks down at him. There’s a dawning in her eyes that tells Eliot they’re alright. That they’re gonna be good. That it’s okay to pull her tighter and ask her to go ahead and steal him again tonight, since he knows her rigging is secure.

"I can't imagine anything more passionate than that."

“Uh-huh, ‘wow' is right,” he laughs breathlessly, and reaches up to take hold of her chin. It’s a light grip, barely any pressure where he between his thumb resting on the front and the rest of his fingers curling around under her jaw, but she lets Eliot guide her down until their lips touch. Not kissing, yet, just touching. His mouth moves against hers as he speaks, tongue briefly darting out to wet two pairs of parched lips. “-so tell me, why the fuck would I want to go to anyone else?”

“Maybe if you got some bad advice,” Parker murmurs, voice strong and confident again for the first time since they wrapped up the con. “From someone who didn’t realize she made you feel that way?”

“Hmmn, that could make sense,” Eliot hums back, resisting the urge to roll up against her in wet jeans that would only serve to chafe rather than provide any of the friction that having Parker in his lap always makes him crave. “If someone could help me get this damn boot off, maybe I could get to work making sure she’ll never forget it?”

[cricketchaology]

cold, kind, and lemon eyes

this fic includes violence, including descriptions of wounds and gun usage. if these things are triggering to you, please proceed with caution!

READ ON AO3

in a way, it’s human instinct to fight against the bonds. it’s an abstract thought, passing in and out of harry’s mind between winds of panic and a daughter he might not see again, he might never apologize to. it’s hard to think over the hollow static of the busted earbud nestled against the drum, the screaming of his heart, the thoughts all blurry and loose-lipped. his wrists are raw against the rope, not quite budging.

the men are gone now, but they could be back any moment. with guns, or knives, or hammers- with a ransom request if he’s lucky, and death if he’s not. worst come to worst, they’ll flay him open and leave him there for the dogs.

needless to say, if you told the mr. wilson of a dozen years ago that being consumed by wolves would be his fate, he’d laugh in your face over a glass of chardonnay. and maybe in a different world, harry might find the contrast funny.

instead, though, he finds his stomach sinking as feet pound down the hall, fast approaching in a way that screams a threat. his entire body aches at the thought, anticipating fresh blows that he isn’t sure his already worn skin can take. the shadow in the window looms over like a reaper, stretching across the concrete and dancing at harry’s feet as the bulb flickers, dying out over the guard's shoulder.

the shadow covers the whole window, leaving harry in the darkness of the cell for a moment, and he curls in on himself, fighting the innate desire to cry as the figure of death comes upon him. he closes his eyes, shivering weakly as the air in the room chills, the footsteps closer.

“hey, get up,” a voice is saying, and harry feels weightless when the gruffness of it registers. because it’s eliot, it’s eliot , and his rough fingers are working a fresh comms piece into his ear, are quickly unknotting the ropes so harry can move his hands again, and he hadn’t even realized how numb they’d become till the blood blew back into them.

“eliot,” harry mutters, because what else can he do? the relief is so intense that his thoughts white-out, becoming a silkscreen of escape, of tomorrow morning’s and sunsets he was saying goodbye to. because eliot got him, eliot always gets him, and he knows this and he should never have doubted it. but it’s during this thought that the guard wakes up from his blackout prematurely. that he gets on his comms and calls for backup, fast arriving. unaccounted for guns arriving at the scene as eliot tries to coax harry back into coherence.

before harry registers the sight of fresh men in the doorway, eliot’s head is turning to the click of the gun. he’s too late- the bullet rings true into the concrete room and lodges itself in the wall just right of harry’s head, though not before ripping through eliot’s shoulder. the spit-spray of blood blasts across harry’s skin, and he winces, blinking the red out of his vision and rubbing at his mouth wildly, unable to think, to help. his now unbound hands go to his hair, tearing, and to his tie, pulling. panicking.

“mr. wilson, get it together!” sophie is calling in his ear, and if he were a better grifter he would be certain of all the fear laced beneath the calm-construct of her voice. he can hear parker shouting eliot’s name, can hear breanna whispers, “oh god, oh god,” to something he’s sure she doesn’t quite believe in. he can hear eliot’s panting breaths two-fold, once in the room across from him and once in the earbud, amplified and so, so much worse up close.

a second shot rings out, and harry finds himself slowly able to push himself up the wall, crawling till he’s standing on uneven feet, trying to speedrun the regaining of his sea legs. sophie begs for a visual from breanna who’s fighting tooth and nail with the security systems. the guard is down, has been down for some time, and eliot is taking on a fourth- no, fifth? sixth? it’s not clear enough for harry to count the bodies as they hit the floor- armed militia man with nothing but his fists. the last one- third or fourth or more, maybe- goes down the same time harry rights himself, rushing across the room to get close to eliot who means safety, means stability.

it’s wihh horror harry realizes that eliot is bleeding. the shoulder of his shirt is soaked through, and his side isn’t faring better. the material of his jeans is torn with a long laceration, a knife that found its way deep into the meat of his thigh and harry shudders to think of the way eliot’s fingers probed into his own wound, feeling for the blood flow to make sure it didn’t strike an artery. the guns lay discarded on the ground now, unloaded and sprawled amongst the downed men. eliot is shucking off his shirt, tying it around his thigh gracelessly as his left arm lags, his breaths thinning. “eliot,” parker is hissing into their ears, the desperation in her voice laid so thickly with love that the two meld into one. “eliot, answer me, or i’m coming in.”

“no,” he’s biting out through clenched teeth. “there’s too many. no one else comes in. i’ll get us out.”

“eliot,” sophie’s voice comes in, uncharacteristically nervous. “i’ll get us out,” eliot repeats, his voice shakier by the second. “breanna, you got a visual? i need you to lead us out of here. you got that? away from guards.”

“yeah, yeah. got it. i got it,” she says, and for a second harry doesn’t believe her. the sound of eliot’s breathing distracts him in the lull between breanna’s assurance and her answer, her saying “go right out the door, then head down the hall until you see the janitor's closet. turn left after that, and you should be at the exit.” “any guards?” eliot asks, and breanna hesitates. “come on, we don’t have time. any guards?”

“one more. armed.” she mutters, and eliot nods, making eye contact with harry that means trust me. means i’ve got you, i’ve got you.

eliot reaches back, takes harry’s palm in his bloody hand. it’s a sticky sensory nightmare than grounds harry, pulling him out of his own head as eliot takes them out the door and down the hall, each of his steps less certain than the last. he intercepts the last guard, practically halfway to the ground when he unequips her with what looks to be sheer muscle memory, the muzzle of the gun gripped tight in a shaking hand. he drops the gun, fingers lost and limp and it takes everything in harry to think to sling eliot’s good arm around his shoulders before he drops to the ground just like the guard.

they hobble out the doors more so than walk out them, the pale shoulder of harry’s suit growing redder by the second, like a rabbit shot on the snow. absently, he realizes he doesn’t have any idea where the van is- he doesn’t even think to ask, just keeps running, keeps moving, dragging eliot into alley after alley in an attempt to put as much distances between there and here as he can. he doesn’t stop until eliot loses consciousness completely, becoming deadweight against harry’s side and they wind up crashing into a trashcan, street-light shielding them from the overwhelming dark.

it’s then that the adrenaline drains, harry’s body going limp against the brick of a building he can hardly register the color of.

///

the peace of unconsciousness doesn’t last long. instead, eliot jabs his elbow bruise-deep into harry’s ribs, muttering, “christ, wake up, man.”

the words feel distant, like the crackle of the earpiece is a stone cracking water-surface rather than a friend directly beside him, begging him to get up. he blinks cautiously, clearing his field of view as much as possible. the alley is dismal and dark and still. the pitter patter of a rat's claws provide ambient sound, the dripping of gutter. his back is cold against the brick, pulling him instinctively to the hot furnace of eliot by his side, still whispering and-

eliot. eliot, still bleeding , his face pale and eyes bloodshot. one of his arms jabs at harry incessantly, begging for attention, while his other clutches at the wound in his shoulder, his side. almost on instinct, harry moves his body, shucking off his suit jacket, the colors of which have moved from beige to beiger, meat-marred. he passes it to eliot who takes it, pressing it against his bleeding side. if it comes away redder than it already was, harry doesn’t know. he can’t bare to look.

“you good, man?” eliot asks, and harry laughs loosely in that crazed way he did that first day, fists clenching at his side with the weight of it. “no,” he huffs out, half hysterical. “no, of course not- not at all.” “okay, well,” eliot mumbles, his head clacking back against the brick wall, brow christened with sweat. “you’re gonna have to be, cause i’ma bleed out if we can’t get outta here.”

somehow, that snaps harry out of his stupor, a fresh jet of panic rushing through him.

“what about-” “comms are out, somethin’ must’a happened while we were down. i dunno what. must’a,” he grimaces, shifting slightly, “someone must’a found the van or somethin’. we’re outta range.”

“okay. okay,” harry says, though his breaths only come faster. his hands are shaking under eliot’s eye, watchful as always despite his waning consciousness.

“harry, you gotta breathe,” eliot says, reaching out with a hand, the digits surprisingly icy against harry’s skin, holding his wrist. his fingers probe the hollow of harry’s wrist, finding the pulse and eliot begins to breathe in sync with it. the contact is grounding though eliot’s palm is sticky with still drying blood.

slowly, harry regains his composure, inhaling with eliot’s even counts even as his voice grows fainter. it’s a familiar technique- one he remembers his daughter using before her fifth grade spelling bee. the memory floods him with something- mourning, maybe, but maybe determination too, that human desire to survive rising in him.

“okay, i’m good. i’m good.”

eliot studies him for a long moment, keeping his breathing at that even metre and harry realizes distantly that it might be partially to cope with the pain. helping harry, though, was certainly a conscious choice.

“where’d you learn to do that?” harry wonders, hoping eliot will understand the question.

eliot adverts his eyes for a moment, weighing the vulnerability of his next statement. “hardison has anxiety attacks, sometimes,” he says simply, and harry can tell no further questions will be allowed. a beat passes, the quiet of the city street outside overtaking them. cars drive by, though sparsely populated, and the laughter of drunk friends is far away. its so discongruent with the bloodied, shaking figure of eliot that harry almost becomes sick to his stomach. “okay,” harry lets out, “okay. what do we do now?” “we needa... get back in range of the comms. get somewhere they can find us, but not somewhere where someone calls the cops. the thugs got ties to ‘em, ’s how we got made in the first place. if they get me sent to a hospital, that’s it.”

“that’s it?” eliot glares at him, his lips twisted. harry swallows thickly.

“yeah. that’s it.”

///

it’s not that eliot is especially heavy- really, he’s lighter than harry might’ve expected a man with that much muscle to be. rather, its that harry hasn’t eaten in three days, and his limbs are still working to regain their independence after being strapped back for so long. his legs can barely support himself, muchless the weight of eliot spencer, living legend, who is dripping blood from god only knows how many wounds.

“are you okay?” harry asks, and eliot hides behind the curtain of hair currently falling past his face, his head hanging low on his neck as though keeping it up requires too much energy. still, he nods tersely, and harry knows it’s a lie, but there’s no point in pressing now.

they hobble across the alley, pausing every few moments to regain strength before dragging each other a handful more steps. eliot tells harry to leave him, to go ahead and get help, but harry won’t even entertain the idea.

“parker would throw me off the roof for real this time,” he parses through inhales, “if i came back and didn’t have you with me.”

if eliot laughs, harry can’t hear it over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.

they make it to the mouth of the alley, the lips of which kiss the sidewalk, spilling out into the city street. it’s quiet, almost uncomfortably so, as eliot brings a hand to his ear, fiddling with the comms to no avail. he mumbles something quietly, a misplaced damnit, hardison, before lulling slightly, becoming heavier against harry’s side. “are you gonna pass out again?” harry questions nervously, but eliot shakes his head, gritting out a weak, “nah.”

they start down the sidewalk, sticking to the shadows granted by the awnings against the gentle moonlight. the city streetlights are weak, weepying a yellow that never quite reaches their heels as the dredge down the way, calling the rest of the teams names repeatedly and begging for connection.

the seconds slip by slowly, and harry has no clue how much time passes between the alley mouth and eliot halting, his heels digging into the asphalt. he’s turned his head to the threat before harry has even processed there might be one. eliot pushes himself away from harry, getting himself back to his full height and sparring harry a glance, just long enough to say, “run.”

“what? eliot-” “i said run!” he shouts, shoving harry aside and placing the bulk of his body between harry and the gun. he’s charging before harry can completely catch himself from falling, rushing across the sidewalk with a speed harry didn’t realize a human being was capable of.

it’s human nature to flee when given the opportunity. harry isn’t a fighter- never has been. he prided himself on years of carefully not choosing a side, of never being in the fight, instead finding the loophole out of it.

it’s human nature. fight or flight. harry hits the ground running.

///

when the hiss of the comms in his ear forms into the shape of static, he knows he’s going in the right direction. he follows the lead, reading the lines and what hides between them, until the crackle turns to whisper, and whisper into word. “eliot? harry? god, oh god,” breanna is saying- sobbing, almost, into the earpiece. “breanna?” he asks, and he’s certain he heard her, not because she responds but because her incoherence suddenly shifts into a wet gasp of relief. “harry? harry, where’s eliot?” parker demands, and harry hesitates. “he- he stayed behind. he was fighting someone, and he told me to go and i-” “you listened to him?” parker cries, a rage to her voice that harry has never heard before, and he swallows, nodding weakly before remembering she can’t see him.

“yes- yes. but he’s hurt and i- i can’t help him, you need to-” “calm down, mr. wilson,” sophie says, like it’s simple. “get us to you, first. where are you?”

the world spins around him, the colors dulled and hard to grasp. he can’t get his eyes to focus, the wind whipping at the short hair on his head and he tries to suck in thin inhales of the icy air.

“i- i don’t know, i-”

“harry, please,” parker begs- and it’s begging, it’s begging , and he hates the sound of it in her voice so much that the vertigo almost swallows him whole. instead, he grabs onto it- imagines it like an anchor he can hold onto, her grief that will destroy him if he can’t fix it. his eyes land on a sign, the lit-up letters flickering in and out desperately. he has to squint to piece them together in the right order.

“there’s- there’s a restaurant called marleen’s, i’m right by that. is that-”

“i got it,” breanna announces, and he can hear the pounding of her keystrokes through the comms. “we’re just seven minutes out.” “hold tight, mr, wilson. we’ll be right there.”

///

the tires of the van screech upon arrival in only three minutes, and he’s unsurprised to see parker tumbling out of the driver’s seat. her jaw is set, her hand clenched around the taser that harry has heard tales of. sophie is not long after, nor breanna, and the intensity radiating off the three in waves is enough to nearly knock harry off his feet. “where is he?” parker shouts, light on her feet and before him in seconds. he points weakly behind himself, and she disappears into the night as fast as she appeared.

sophie comes upon him then, her spindly fingers brushing over his face dutifully for a moment before she ushers him back to the van, breanna staring awkwardly as she holds open the doors.

“are you hurt?” sophie asks, and he cannot even begin to think of the answer. his entire body aches, but he’s not bleeding. as she pulls out alcohol wipes, beginning to brush the red out of his eyes, he realizes she can’t tell- she doesn’t know most of the blood isn’t his.

“eliot, he-” “parker will get him,” sophie tells him, something unplaceable in her voice. “he’s okay. it’s okay.”

harry finds himself nodding, though he isn’t so sure he believes her. he allows her to clean his skin, unearthing bruises that were buried beneath a sea of red as she tuts her tongue. breanna does say anything, but the fearful way she looks at harry reminds him of his daughter watching him walk out of the doors of their family home for the last time. he flinches, and sophie pulls her hands away abruptly, not knowing she did nothing wrong.

a weak grunting echoes from outside, and breanna thrusts open the doors. the city is dark behind parker’s back, the hollow light crecenting her as she pulls a limping eliot along. his face is twisted into an eternal grimace, teeth worrying over his lip in an attempt to silence his groans. one of his legs drags behind, his good arm cupping his side where blood overflows, draining between the slits of his fingers and to the ground, a quaint drip, drip, drip. it makes harry’s stomach ache, the dread of it all.

sophie extends her hands, helping parker hoist eliot into the van. he’s barely conscious, and sporting a rapidly swelling-shut eye and bleeding nose he didn’t have last harry saw him. a wave of nausea rushes over him as they settle eliot on one of the benches, breathing heavily as sophie gets back into the driver’s seat. the car peels away from the curb, leaving a spray of loose rocks dislodged in its wake as they leave the city, escaping to the temporary home base they acquired for this job.

harry lets his head thunk back against the metal wall of the van, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see parker begin stripping eliot of his shirt, the red pooling down him and onto the floor. so he doesn’t have to see breanna, too young for any of this, though he can still hear her ask half-desperate what she can do to help.

he imagines being elsewhere. a beach day in cape-cod, a gala at the grand. he imagines the life he used to lead, blissfully unaware- or intentionally obtuse- of the blood raining in city streets, instead focused on the glass of pinot grigio in his hand. he imagines that peace of being blameless as eliot drifts, parker frowning down at him. as breanna pretends not to cry, and sophie drives.

///

eliot doesn’t wake up when they arrive at the safe house, and it scares everyone. sophie and parker lift him, taking him to a different room where they can tend to his wounds safely (and out of sight). it leaves harry and breanna standing in the doorway, ambling around the living room absently. there’s nothing they can do, really. nothing but wait.

he settles on the coach, head in his hands, and breathes to the sound of her pacing, short strides back and forth, across and across and across the room. she’s humming slightly, a tune he doesn’t quite recognize but doesn’t hate. eventually, she wears herself down, sitting at her computer and plucking away at the keys in a way that speaks to her distracted mind, the usually hundred word per-minute speed nonpresent, slowed to a dozen.

sophie reappears from the room, her brow furrowed but otherwise unmarred. harry stands to greet her, much like a waiting room wife to a doctor, rife with anticipation. breanna swivels her chair much the same, though neither of them breathe a word, waiting. “eliot will be fine,” sophie says, and harry all but wilts with relief. “but we’ll take time off so he can heal. a month or two, maybe. he’s down pretty badly.”

sophie pauses, momentarily glancing over harry in a way that, if he were a greater man, might embarrass him. instead, he swallows down the look of pity, the way her eyes drag over him with grief.

“clean up, mr. wilson. then we’ll tend to you, too.”

///

it’s a new experience, the way the blood looks rushing down the shower drain. it’s dried to the skin, takes scrubbing to remove. some of the flakes stay whole rather than dissipate into the water, and he watches them fall from his skin and go away to nothing. his body is sticky with sweat, and it takes several lathers to get him even remotely feeling clean. he’s not sure he ever will, not with the ghost of eliot’s blood still haunting his cheek, omnipresent. he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the way the spray felt against his skin. still, when his fingers are so pruny he doubts even the team could lift a print from him, he cranks the water off. the steam does a good job disguising him; he can barely see his own feet through the thick plumes of it. he pulls back the curtain, a rush of cold air hitting him and-

“parker! what are you doing in here?” he exclaims, instinctively pulling the curtain again to shield him from her eyes, although she covered them with her hands when he exclaimed.

“eliot told me to talk to you,” she says simply, muffled through her wrists. “tell me when i can uncover my eyes. i- i didn’t think about it. sorry.”

harry sighs, reaching carefully out from the shower to grab a towel even as she keeps her eyes covered. he dries himself off quickly, slipping into the joggers and shirt that sophie handed him earlier. they don’t fit quite right, clearly not his. they’re eliot’s, he realizes, with a dull pang in his heart.

when he finishes dressing, he lowers himself onto the toilet lid, looking at parker as she keeps her eyes dutifully covered. her breathing is even, but even so, he can hear the gears turning in her head.

“eliot’s up?” harry asks, not knowing where to start. parker nods, her hands bobbing up and down with her head.

“he was in and out for a while. he’s resting now. he told me to talk to you.”

“what about?” “he said i need to tell you how i feel, because you won’t know that i’m not mad at you if i don’t. and he’s right, i know that. just sometimes eliot does the thinking for me and tells me what’s going on in my brain.”

harry furrows his brows, still perplexed by the complexities of the team's relationships. he’s almost jealous he wasn’t around to see them fall in love with each other, parker, eliot and hardison. a beat passes, parker still on the counter, her legs crossed on a space that seems too small for anyone to sit on. “can i uncover my eyes?” she asks, voice small, and harry fumbles.

“oh- yes, yes, sorry. i didn’t realize you were-” “it’s okay.” she pulls her hands from her face, revealing slightly blood-shot eyes, her nose red from tears. “i don’t blame you. for eliot getting hurt, i mean.”

harry flounders a bit at that, ringing his hands in his lap.

“i left him, though. he came to save me and he got hurt, and i let it happen. and then i left him. it’s- it’s my fault, parker, i-” “no, it’s not,” she says, and she’s glaring at him like she did hardison when she found out he was leaving. it’s not a look harry enjoys being on the receiving end of.

“it’s not your fault because eliot told you to leave. it’s what he wanted you to do, and you listened to him, so if i wanna get mad at someone for that it has to be eliot. but i can’t get mad at eliot, and i can’t get mad at you, cause i would’ve done it. maybe not now, but ten years ago i might’ve left him to die if i had to. you were scared; you weren’t thinking straight. i get that.”

she sighs slightly, eyes glued to the tile. harry sits, waiting for her as she thinks, rolling thoughts over in her head. eventually, a distant smile graces her lips.

“we can do things the others can’t,” she says, not quite meeting his eyes when she looks at him. “and that doesn’t make us bad. it makes us… us.”

though he feels like he’s missing part of it, as he often does talking to parker- and the rest of them, for that matter- it settles something in his chest. he breaths out, the hollow of his lungs lightening. she smiles at his gently; gentle in a manner harry doesn’t think he’ll ever deserve. he smiles back, hoping it reaches his eyes. with that, parker springs from the counter, leaving him alone in the bathroom with nothing but his thoughts.

///

later, when he goes to see eliot, he is still hesitant, though certainly no more than he’d be without parker’s conversation. the dim lighting of the room barely kisses the wooden walls, framing a semi-conscious eliot. he’s been stripped down to a pair of black shorts, his chest and side swathed in bandages. they crawl up this legs too, appearing in patches along his arms. simply put; he looks like shit. still, he rises upon seeing harry, sitting up carefully. one side of his face is swollen, almost unrecognizable.

“hey, man,” eliot grumbles, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “you good?”

“shouldn’t i be asking you that?”

eliot shrugs, flinching at the pain spurs in his shoulder. he readjusts, his head lulling slightly as he blinks against the sleep trying to overtake him. “nah. parker talk to you?” “she did.” “good,” eliot says, looking at harry seriously. “i ain’t mad either. you get that? i get hurt sometimes. ain’t anything to lose sleep over. i went in to help you because you’re important to us.”

“i’m not a good man, eliot,” harry mutters, not quite able to meet eliot’s gaze. “me either. that ain’t what it’s about. can’t get your soul back if i let you die, now can you?”

“...no, i suppose not.” “we all got roles to play. your’s is to not get kidnapped next time, got it?”

harry can’t help the laugh the barks out of him, a hand going to cover with mouth. it gets a hearty smile on eliot’s lips. it’s a look harry thinks he’d like to see more of.

“alright,” eliot says, still smirking as harry’s laughter trails off. “get outta here. i’m gonna sleep for a week.”

“alright,” harry says, heading towards the door. “rest well.” “you too,” eliot mumbles, half asleep already.

harry feels a smile pull at his lips, a sense of peace filling him. it’s only human nature.

[mad-madam-m]

Trope Bingo Masterpost

With less than two weeks to spare, I hit a blackout on my Trope Bingo card! Twenty-five fics in ten different fandoms, totaling 61,807 words, holy shit.

The fandom breakdown ended up like so:

Tiger & Bunny - 6 Castlevania (Netflix) - 5 Gargoyles - 4 Teen Wolf - 3 Good Omens - 2 Voltron: Legendary Defender - 1 Leverage - 1 Star Wars - 1 Mary Stayed Out All Night - 1 Captain Harlock - 1 I can honestly say I did not expect Castlevania and Gargoyles to have the #2 and #3 positions under Tiger & Bunny, but hey, it's been a weird year.

But WOO! I DID IT!!

You can find all 25 Trope Bingo fics listed under the cut!

Title: The Shops on Morning Street Prompt: Rivals to Lovers Fandom: Castlevania (Netflix) Character/Pair: Trevor/Alucard Words: 6934 Rating: T Summary: Trevor Belmont, former monster hunter and current florist, is tasked with looking into the proprietor of the new tattoo parlor across the street, much to his annoyance. What he finds is Adrian Ţepeş, current half-vampire, current tattoo artist, and a whole lot more than Trevor bargained for. Title: An Avian Aggravation Prompt: Soulbonding/Soulmates Fandom: Castlevania (Netflix) Character/Pair: Trevor/Alucard Words: 3864 Rating: T Summary: Trevor didn't know magic, not really. But he'd heard enough stories to guess where this was going. "Sypha, did you summon a goose that's going to guide Alucard to his one true love?" Alucard choked. "You what?" "No!" Sypha flipped between two pages in the book and hesitated. "Well...maybe?" "What?!" Alucard repeated. Title: Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be Prompt: Fake Relationship Fandom: Gargoyles Character/Pair: Elisa & Xanatos Words: 5372 Rating: T Summary: "We've received intelligence that Latimer is going to be making a deal at an exclusive event this Saturday. We'll have people stationed around the event, but we need to get someone on the inside to track when the deal is going down." Chavez pointed at her. "That's where you come in." Finally, they were doing something to take this bastard down. Elisa grinned. "Going undercover?" "In a manner of speaking." Chavez gestured to the door. "You'll be posing as the girlfriend of our informant." Elisa turned. "Who's—" David Xanatos walked through the door. *** Or: Elisa has to fake date her nemesis, and learns that they may have a little more in common than she'd like. Title: Mind's Eye Prompt: Telepathy/Mind Meld Fandom: Tiger & Bunny Character/Pair: Barnaby/Kotetsu Words: 705 Rating: T Summary: Kaede copies the ability to read minds and immediately has Many Regrets when she reads Barnaby's. Title: Ill Met by Moonlight Prompt: Handcuffed/Bound Together Fandom: Gargoyles Character/Pair: Elisa & Owen Words: 5154 Rating: T Summary: For Elisa, waking up tied up to one of her least favorite people on the planet is just the cherry on top of an already crappy night. Title: Gonna Make This Place Your Home Prompt: Quarantine Fandom: Tiger & Bunny Character/Pair: Barnaby/Kotetsu Words: 5738 Rating: T Summary: A rescue goes slightly sideways and Barnaby and Kotetsu must be quarantined for two weeks as a precaution. Barnaby’s the one who suggests that they be quarantined together. Being locked inside with Kotetsu for two weeks will end up being either the best or worst decision he’s ever made. Title: If You Get Lost You Can Always Be Found Prompt: Fix-It Fic Fandom: Castlevania (Netflix) Character/Pair: Trevor/Alucard Words: 3217 Rating: T Summary: "Trevor?" Alucard took half a step forward; he may have been hallucinating. "What the hell are you doing here? You look terrible." "Oh, thank fuck," Trevor said, and collapsed. *** Trevor returns to the castle alone and injured. Alucard takes care of him. Title: Coming Home Prompt: Reunion Fandom: Tiger & Bunny Character/Pair: Barnaby/Kotetsu Words: 767 Rating: T Summary: Kotetsu comes home after several days away, and Barnaby welcomes him. Title: With Broken Words I've Tried to Say Prompt: Epistolary Fandom: Castlevania (Netflix) Character/Pair: Trevor/Alucard Words: 3700 Rating: T Summary: In which Alucard sends a letter to Sypha, but ends up corresponding with Trevor instead. Title: Something Like Friends Prompt: Rare Pairs Fandom: Teen Wolf Character/Pair: Allison/Erica Words: 2460 Rating: T Summary: Allison is sick. Erica is taking care of her. Erica is really, really not examining her reasons for doing so. Title: Truth or Dare Prompt: Truth or Dare Fandom: Teen Wolf Character/Pair: Boyd/Erica Words: 707 Rating: T Summary: She smiled very slowly at him. "Truth or dare?" Boyd wasn't sure which would be worse. "Truth." He really didn't want to think about what Erica would dare him to do. Title: Locked In Prompt: Locked In Fandom: Good Omens Character/Pair: Aziraphale/Crowley Words: 2484 Rating: M Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley have picked this weekend to be locked in...in every sense of the word. Title: New Rings Prompt: In Vino Veritas/Drunk Fic Fandom: Tiger & Bunny Character/Pair: Barnaby/Kotetsu Words: 831 Rating: G Summary: "You have a wedding ring," Bunny informs him in a tone used only by toddlers and drunk people. Kotetsu nods. "I do." "It's a new one. It's not the same one you had before." "Hey, don't tell me you already forgot how I got it." Kotetsu wiggles his ring finger. "I didn't think you had that much to drink." Title: A Woman in Need Prompt: Huddle for Warmth Fandom: Teen Wolf Character/Pair: Sheriff/Melissa Words: 467 Rating: T Summary: The heater's gone out in their cabin. In Colorado. In the winter. At least Melissa has someone willing to help keep her warm. Title: Are We or Aren't We? Prompt: Everyone Thinks We're a Couple Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Character/Pair: Keith/Shiro Words: 1338 Rating: T Summary: Everybody seems to think Keith and Shiro are dating. The problem is, they're not. Or are they? Title: Gentles, Do Not Reprehend Prompt: Chosen Family Fandom: Gargoyles Character/Pair: Alex Xanatos, David Xanatos, Fox Xanatos, Owen Burnett Words: 1208 Rating: G Summary: A kid at school makes fun of Lexington. Fortunately, Alex is more than capable of taking care of it. Unfortunately, his parents find out how he did. Title: A Parental Predicament Prompt: Meet the Parents/Family Fandom: Castlevania (Netflix) Character/Pair: Dracula/Lisa, Trevor/Alucard Words: 3627 Rating: T Summary: Adrian is bringing home his boyfriend to meet his parents. There's just one tiny problem: his boyfriend is a descendant of a notorious monster-hunting family, and his father is Dracula. It goes about as well as you would expect. Title: Let Me Love You Prompt: Wing Fic Fandom: Good Omens Character/Pair: Aziraphale/Crowley Words: 948 Rating: G Summary: Crowley sighed. "Something wrong with your wings?" "Oh, nothing's wrong with them, exactly, it's just," Aziraphale made a face, "trying to get them back in order." "You're never going to get it flapping like that." Crowley shot one last warning glare at the rosebushes and got to his feet. "Here, I'll do it." Title: How You Say "I Love You" Prompt: Food and Cooking Fandom: Leverage Character/Pair: Parker/Eliot/Hardison Words: 967 Rating: T Summary: Parker groaned. "Let's just go to bed." Hardison turned them toward the bedroom. "Don't have to tell me twice." Eliot really, really wanted to follow, but he ducked out from under Hardison's arm. "I'll meet you in there. Got to do something in the kitchen first." Title: Undercover Prompt: Undercover Missions Fandom: Star Wars Character/Pair: Finn/Poe Words: 948 Rating: T Summary: "We don't have another way out!" Poe walked around the front of the desk. They had no time and all he had was a very bad idea. "I'm going to kiss you." Finn's eyes doubled in size. "You're going to—" Title: Love, Bunny Prompt: Language/Translation Fandom: Tiger & Bunny Character/Pair: Barnaby/Kotetsu Words: 1877 Rating: G Summary: Barnaby gets a mysterious cake on Valentine's Day, and goes about finding the best way to respond. Title: Two Bedrooms or Three Prompt: Curtain Fic Fandom: Mary Stayed Out All Night Character/Pair: Mary/Mu Gyul/Jung In Words: 613 Rating: G Summary: Mary, Mu Gyul, and Jung In are ready to look for a new apartment together, but Mu Gyul has a request that throws a wrench into their plans. Title: Coming Out Prompt: Coming Out (Of The Closet) Fandom: Tiger & Bunny Character/Pair: Barnaby/Kotetsu Words: 2335 Rating: T Summary: Kotetsu's decided it's time to call Kaede and tell her about him and Barnaby. Title: The Shipping Ship Prompt: Matchmaker Fandom: Captain Harlock Character/Pair: Harlock/Yama Words: 2487 Rating: T Summary: Tochiro has been waiting for Harlock to find someone for a hundred years. ONE. HUNDRED. YEARS. And now the perfect person has waltzed onto the Arcadia and Harlock is going to do...nothing. Absolutely nothing about it. That's fine. Tochiro might be a ship now, but by God, he can still wingman with the best of them. Title: New Friends and Stranger Companies Prompt: Trust and Vows Fandom: Gargoyles Character/Pair: Elisa & Xanatos Words: 3059 Rating: T Summary: Elisa hung up her jacket, tossed her badge and keys on the table, and had just taken her gun safe out of the drawer when she registered that someone was sitting on her couch. She drew her gun. "Put your hands up and stand up slowly." The man chuckled, and damn it, Elisa knew that laugh. "Took you a little longer than I thought it would, detective. You really must be tired from your adventures." *** In which a cop and an ex-convict form a tentative truce over being way too damn tired to deal with anything anymore.

[frenchtoastpanda]

The Leverage finale

Gonna rant in public because @rainaramsay expressed interest. I have no theme this is just my thoughts as I rewatch this episode. Idk why I’m doing this. (Also I don’t know how to format, so sorry about that)

Oh right I forgot that this is a fucking sad episode why am I doing this to myself

Ooh the return of the Steranko! I am very glad they brought that back

I just love when they bring things back in general, like in the white rabbit job all of the companies looking to buy dogson are previous marks and how they have like three brand names for safes that they reuse a lot. It just makes it feel like a real world that people live in.

The theater! Perfect for Sophie! And the mentioned the tunnels, which I believe we encountered in the gold job

Sophie says “I have just the thing” and my immediate response is always “the play’s the thing” even though I know it’s from a different play than the one they are doing

And can we talk about how they are doing the same play as the pilot? Actually I will probably yell about that closer to the end

Parker being all emotionally cognizant and Nate just reciting physics formulas in response

God I love this bit (and I love that they are still including references to Nate’s alcoholism)

Just, Parker, the new mastermind, who doesn’t “let feelings get in the way” (like Hardison - this is the reason he can’t be the mastermind, much to his chagrin. He’s too much of a cinnamon roll)

Nate says she spins problems like puzzle pieces until they click, but I think it’s more like juggling all the fiddly bits inside a lock until it clicks open

HE TRUSTS HER HE TRUSTS HER HE TRUSTS HER!!!!!!!

Zachary is the lead! Love him!

Sophie saying she doesn’t miss acting at all 😏

She is a good director, though

"I'm exactly where I belong" I'm gonna die I am so happy for all of them

Oh no here we go

Cut right to Nate covered in cuts being interrogated about the mistakes he made

"Mr. Ford, how did your friends die?" CUT TO COMMERCIAL

This must have killed me the first time around

I do love this investigator though. I think I remember from the commentary that it wasn't originally supposed to be her, but it worked out really well

Nate looking around like he's confused (and trapped) while not being able to put together a full sentence (I'm not sure if I ever developed a solid headcannon for how much of this scene was him faking and how much was actual injuries from the actual crash) (I'm open to ideas!)

Ellen giving a vicious predatory little smile when she says that she's here to help him

I wish I could do gifs or screencaps or something. This is one of my absolute favorite callbacks! Parker in that little black bonnet thing jumping off a building having the time of her life and the boys do their "twenty pounds of crazy in a five pound bag" thing (whuch my autocorrect recognized as a phrase for some reason? Do I really yell about that but enough for it to suggest those words in that order? Fantastic)

But this time their faces and voices are full of affection. She may be an insane thief/mastermind, but she's OUR insane thief/mastermind

And coming after the white rabbit job where we had that line about how she's not and never has been crazy, the fact that you can tell they are saying this as a callback without meaning the crazy part is just perfect

It makes me wonder how many other times they have repeated this, because you can't convince me they haven't

Aah Sophie's horrible rendition of Lady Macbeth! Same speech, different ways of doing it just as badly (props to Gina Bellman)

Is this the same outfit? Hold on I need to check.

Y'know, I didn't think they changed that much physically over the years, given that they are adults, but going back to the pilot, I keep going awww look how tiny they were! (Especially Aldis. Like I know they had problems because he was getting too hot and ripped, but Damn)

Anyway, the dress is very very similar, same color and pattern, but it very slightly different. I will maybe post my very very horrible pictures after I finish this

Parker is so good at computers now that she has this adorably bored face when hacking! I love that they taught each other their stuff!

Using chaos as a distraction and co-opting the expected response as a cover! One of my favorite tricks!

Parker changing in the elevator! And the boys turning to give her privacy! And this isn't even the first time they did a callback to this! I love my respectful boys! Remember when Hardison turned the David around? So pure!

Ah, we are setting up for competency porn and then it all goes bad! Aah!

I love Eliot's little "wassup?" Before fighting the guy. Points for intimidation, Spencer

My stronk babies opening an elevator with their fingertips

And Hardison's recurrent fear of heights combined with Parker's love of them

She says "I got you" (twice)

Oh god Beth's acting in the elevator shafts

Oh I'm gonna cry

Oh and a "dammit Hardison"

Oh Gina's face

Even in a situation as tense as this, Eliot still takes the time to empty the gus and toss it away

I don't think I've ever seen him check for an ankle piece, actually. How has that not come up before now?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

"Age of the geek, brother" I'm sobbing

I mean, so is everybody

Look at this acting!

I love that they didn't go for the clichéd established couple dying in each other's arms, but instead put Eliot in the middle, giving us our yummy hurt ot3 goodness

And Parker sitting up so she sees the other two go

Ugh. Where's that poetic cinéma image when you need it?

Anyone remember the perfectly timed bridge from the pilot?

What number Lucille are they on?

I love that they actually stop in from of the barrier at the bridge, then take a moment to decide before just going for the crazy impossible stunt because why the hell not at this point

Ah Nate and Sophie are holding hands on the way to death too!!

And cut the scene before they reach the top of the bridge. Time to see Tim show us why he's an academy award winner

Ooh and here's where we find out she was lying! (Should this be the part where I started wondering if Nate knew? Probably. Did I? Not even a little)

There was a big twist where the person Nate was facing off against was playing him in the pilot too

But John fucking Rogers didn't play ME in the pilot. I take that personally.

Ooh hints at the true story are being dropped

Ellen is almost adequately suspicious

JUST WALK TWO FEET FORWARD ELLEN! LOOK AT THE STAGE! COME ON!

"You loved them very much" Yeah he did. They all did! Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

She knows he's lying, I love that (just like Dubenich knew Sophie was manipulating him)

"The only thing I ever had"? That's intense, Nate

God Tim is a good actor

(Like I low-key don't like Nate at all, but Damn he is well acted)

And he just turns it off, just like that

Wow

I am really into her little impressed face when he goes all Sherlock and explains how he knows they are at interpol

The glass! Of course Sterling brings him the glass! Not a pilot callback, but a good callback nontheless. The commentary says it's literally the same exact glass every time. I will have to go back and verify that at some point. I swear it didn't have those ridges around the bottom in at least one episode, but I also trust John Rogers, so idk

I love how sterling knows everything from the moment he appears, and Ellen doesn't even know what the black book is

"That's why you joined Interpol? Screw justice. You're the order guy?" What a good line for Nate and Sterling's relationship

Nate's not even interested in hearing Sterling's evil speech of evil about the bailouts

I actually really love the little exposition flashbacks

Her look of horror and dawning comphrension when he explains why he is there is fantastic. If we bring this show back, can we have more of this lady?

Yeah, Ellen, why IS he still lying to you??

Sterling remembered to be cautious about the coroner's van, but not cautious enough!

That's some timing. How did Nate arrange that ? Oh right, this was triggered by the arrival of the van, which he probably set the timing of

Nate's face after "Parker's still in the server room." Yes, sell that fear to Sterling! Make him believe he's right! I wouldn't have thought to fake a reaction to that. But that's why I'm not a griffer

And he trusted sterling to have a snark remark so that he could have an attention-stealing reaction to distract him

I try every time to see the kids going in, and I never manage to catch all of them

Why does Nate turn away here?

God, that really is a terrifyingly lifelike Hardison face

I gotta say, the first time I saw sterling shoot the Hardison corpse, I was really convinced that he was right and he was really killing Hardison for the first time

"Second question... No, Nate, why don't you tell her what my second question is?"

Honestly, the first time around, I had forgotten about that secret meeting between Nate and Hardison

"The plan's the thing" A callback to earlier in this episode. I'm dying. I love this show so much

And they can do that without being annoying because every leverage episode is like three or four episodes rolled into one. Sometimes more!

That's one of my favorite parts, but also one of the very few downsides

I get so excited watching the flashbacks that show how it all happened

Omg I love the thing where they stack! Parker crouching, Eliot just above her head, Hardison looming tall! It reminds me of the princess bride for some reason

Sterling is the Trojan horse, the way out is the way in...wait, didn't they do that with at least one other episode, where the floor was a horrible way in, but last minute they used it as a way out?

Are these callbacks or parallels at this point?

Sophie taught Nate how to act! "She found her calling." Yeah she did! So proud of her!

"Your ride to a life sentence in a secret prison has arrived" So dramatic for someone who knows Sophie is behind the wheel

Ooooooohhh he called him James!

"You and I are not the same" okay sterling

"Justice is always easy" YES GO STERLING wait that's a callback to the justice vs order thing earlier in this episode. I just got that

I have seen this so many times and I still notice something new every time I watch it

Does John Rogers have a tumblr? I want to tag him but I don't think he does

What is Parker wearing? Why is one sleeve randomly yellow?

I can't believe Nate is proposing in a hoodie

I love how the kids pop in with insults and Nate just agrees. He knows it's true

That's a huge fucking rock

"Did you steal it?" "No." "Oh, cause that would have been more romantic"

"I'll steal the first anniversary ring" lol I love these guys

Parker insists he follow the proper procedure

Oh wait, the ot3 are gonna branch out with other crews?

Y'know, in an alternate universe I could have shipped Eliot and Sophie

GOD

I'M CRYING AGAIN

"You're the smartest man I know" where have we heard that before?

Parker recognizing her feelings! (And they've been preparing her for this the longest)

Aah, the circle shot from above and the breakaway, but this time not everyone breaks away!!!!!!!!!!

"You do know that Laura is not my real name, don't you?" Sophie I'm gonna kill you

And then the big obvious callback to the pilot, where Beth meticulously studied Tim's acting to recreate it

Loving the look of this scene. The costumes, the blocking, all of it

And they made sure to switch which parent was crying

Very excited for leverage international. Gimme!

[make-me-imagine]

Ready

Description: The reader and Eliot aren’t dating but love each other and are oblivious to the others feelings and the reader goes on a date with some guy and Eliot gets really jealous.

Characters: Eliot Spencer x Reader

Gender: Any

Words: 1,865 - This is my longest one yet!

This was Requested by anon

Eliot was watching you closely as you were talking with some guy. You were laughing at something he said as you grabbed his arm, classic sign of attraction. Eliots heart clenched, he hating seeing you with someone else, but maybe nothing would come of it.

Standing in front of Trevor he was making you laugh, he had brought up something that had happened in High School. When you and the team were getting ready for a con, you had run into Trevor. You hadn’t seen each other in years. You dated in High School and broke up when he moved away. 

When you had to leave Trevor asked you on a date. You hesitated briefly, your mind wandering to Eliot. You had liked him for so long, sometimes you thought you even loved him, but he never seemed to feel the same. You were getting tired of Eliot never noticing how you acted around him, so you said yes.

Getting into Eliots car driving to the pub Eliot cleared his throat “So, who was that guy?” he glanced over at you. Maybe he was no one.

“His name is Trevor, we dated in High School. I hadn’t seen him in years.” You watched Eliot closely, trying to see if he actually cared, but Eliot was good at hiding his emotions so you couldn’t tell.

This news only gave him a little relief, maybe you were just catching up, but what if it was more than that? Eliot was torn between admitting his feelings and keeping them hidden. Sure he’s had a lot of relationships, but you were different, he could actually picture himself spending the rest of his life with you, if he hadn’t pushed you away already.

He didn’t have time to make up his mind about telling you, you made it to the Pub. You were getting ready for the latest con, you were going to break into an office building. You needed to find a file with the names of your marks business partners. You were going after all of them. 

You couldn’t get to the floor normally so you and Parker had to shimmy through the air ducts. Eliot had run into some security guards, all you could hear in your ear piece was punching and grunting. You always worried about him, he could clearly take care of himself but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

After you had successfully gotten into the room, Parker was getting the file while you were watching the door. This was taking longer than you wanted, tonight was suppose to be your date with Trevor. Apparently this thought had crossed Sophies mind as well. “How much longer guys? We need to make sure y/n makes it to their date.” you froze in your place. 

“Date?!” came from Hardison, Parker and Eliot simultaneously.

“Sophie I told you that in secret.” you turned to Parker telling her to continue her search for the file.

“Oops” she said, hardly sincere. She new about your feelings for Eliot, and she new about Eliots feelings for you. Maybe he would confront you about the date and you two would finally stop dancing around each other.

“Lets not focus on that right now, we need to finish the job, then y/n can go on their date.” Nate broke in thankfully. 

After you got the file and made your escape you were back at the loft. Hoping no one would bring up Sophies announcement you were disappointed when Eliot spoke up first. “Date huh? You didn’t mention that when I asked who that guy was. It is Trevor your going on the date with right?”

Looking at Eliot you could have sworn you saw jealousy on his face..or maybe it was anger, for not telling him “You only asked me who he was, not what happened when we talked.”

Before he could respond Hardison broke in “And you didn’t think to mention it to me? Your best friend? Where is the trust?” 

You rolled your eyes at him “It didn’t come up.”

Parker sat down next to you “But it came up with Sophie?”

Sophie broke in this time “y/n asked Nate how long the con would take, I was curious as to why, since they've never cared before. So I asked them, that is the different between why I knew and none of you did.” 

Eliot put the ice pack on his face and looked over at you, you looked uncomfortable with the attention so he decided not to bother you about it anymore, he was too late anyway.

You get up from your seat “Are we done interrogating me yet? I have to get ready.” you didn’t wait for a response as you were half way out the door.

After getting ready you met up with Trevor. It was a fun date, but...he was exactly the same as he was in High School. To some this would be a good thing, but it wasn’t. When you were in High School he was childish, you loved that about him. But that was then, you were grown ups now, and though you don’t mind childishness, it seemed to be the entirety of his personality. He barely even asked about what happened to you after he moved.

During the date you caught a reflection in the window, turning quickly you look around, you swore you saw Eliot. “What is it?” Trevor asked looking around too.

“Nothing, sorry, I thought I saw someone is all.” you smiled at him.

“Well there are a lot of people here y/n.” he laughed at his own joke.

Eliot had gotten too close. He heard you laugh and needed to hear what you were talking about, as he was moving closer he saw you see him in the reflection of the glass. Quickly he moved and hid behind a wall, he was waiting for you to come look for him and confront him but instead he heard you continue your conversation with Trevor. ‘Maybe the didn’t actually see me’ he thought to himself hopefully.

Throughout the rest of the date you kept eyeing the reflections around the restaurant. You knew Eliot was here, but why? Was he being protective, did he find something out about Trevor? Was he jealous? You were so preoccupied with your thoughts you had forgotten Trevor was talking to you. You thought he heard you ask a question and breaking out of your daydream you saw him looking at you expectantly. “Sorry! Could you repeat the question, I don’t think I heard you correctly.” you feigned innocence.

Smiling he asked you again “I asked if you wanted to do this again?” there it was, you were waiting for that. Luckily you had an excuse to say no, at least for now “Sorry Trevor, I didn’t mention in before but I’m actually going out of town in a couple days, but maybe when I get back.” 

He shook his head at you “Sure, where are you going? And how long are you gonna be gone?”

You and the team were flying to Maine for the con in a few days “Maine, but I’m not sure how long I will be there. It’s a work thing.” he nodded in response.

The date had finally ended much to your relief. You had grown tired of having to fake laugh at all of his jokes. Eliot was relieved too, he had managed to get close enough to hear the conversation without you seeing him. When you were parting ways Trevor tried to kiss you, Eliot had to stop himself from interrupting, but luckily for him, you stopped it. You turned your face as he kissed your cheek instead. He smiled “No kiss on the first date then?” you nodded you head at him. “Alright, next time then” he winked at you. 

You waited until Trevor was gone to confront Eliot, you ad come separately since you and Trevor lived in different parts of the city. When you were waiting for the bill you heard a waiter ask someone if they wanted another drink, you recognized Eliots voice as he responded. You knew he was still here. You were mad that he was spying on you but mostly curious as to why. You pretended to walk towards your car but stopped around the corner, you knew Eliot would make sure you got into your car safely. As he came around the corner he almost ran into you “Jesus!” he jumped.

“Looking for someone Eliot?” you had your arms crossed.

Sighing he leaned against the wall next to you “So you did see me.” he rubbed the back of his head, what was he gonna say?

“Why did you follow me Eliot?” 

“I-I don’t know.” you rolled your eyes at this as you started to walk towards your car. “Fine! Fine..” you stopped, turning towards him. “I..was jealous.”

You stood their surprised, jealous? That was the response you wanted, but not what you were expecting. “Jealous? That I was on a date? Why?” you had approached him now.

“I know I’m good at hiding my feelings y/n I wish I wasn’t. I’ve been trying to convince myself to ask you out for a while now. But I’ve been a coward.” he was trying his hardest to avoid your gaze.

You had mixed emotions about this, you were surprised, happy and mad “You’ve had relationships before Eliot, a lot actually, why am I any different, what stopped you?” you only had a few relationships in your life, you weren’t good at showing your feelings but Eliot had done it so many times before.

“Your different y/n, I never wanted to stay in those relationships. Your the first person I’ve been afraid of losing, of hurting” he got quiet as he continues “Your the first person I’ve wanted to spend my life with. And I was scared of that, I was scared to tell you, in case you-” he was so afraid that you didn’t want what he did

You knew what he was going to say, he was afraid of the same thing you were “in case you thought I didn’t feel the same” he looked up at you. “I was afraid of the same thing, but the difference between us is that you are much better at hiding it, that’s why I said yes to Trevor. I was tired of waiting for...us”

You felt the same? How could he be so stupid. “I’m sorry y/n. But I’m here now and I’m ready for us if you are.” he inched closer to you, his face so close to yours. He was staring into your eyes.

You smiled at him “I am ready.” as soon as the words left your mouth he kissed you. You wrapped your arms around your neck as he pulled you as close to him as he could. The kiss was desperate and perfect. The kiss was a hundred words left unsaid, so many emotions finally able to be seen. You were no longer scared of a relationship with Eliot Spencer, you knew he would keep you safe, you knew he would make you happy. You were ready.

[featherquillpen]

Fic Masterclass: “strange, how we are changed”

There are some fics that are beautiful in subtle and complex ways. Fics I read again and again trying to capture their magic. 

What I’ve decided to do, for my edification as a fic writer myself, is write in-depth analyses of these fics to figure out what makes them tic. I call it Fic Masterclass. 

First off: read the fic. It’s short. Come back to this tab when you’re ready.

strange, how we are changed by thingswithwings (Leverage, Eliot/Parker/Hardison, 2359 words)

Peeling the Onion

On a surface level, this fic is about the Leverage OT3 getting high together and making out. 

On another level, this fic is about Parker and Hardison gently welcoming Eliot into their relationship.

On the deepest level, this fic is a portal fantasy: smoking weed transports the characters to another world, one where they can be vulnerable and unafraid and intimate, and alchemical changes in their relationship become possible. (Which is why the title of the fic works so well.)

The Play by Play

The fic starts in the middle of the action, with the OT3 hanging out together on the couch, like they do. This is the mundane world, something they do all the time. What’s different this time is that Hardison is smoking a joint. 

It’s in-character for Eliot to hesitate before taking a puff himself. He demurs, saying: 

"Nah, man," Eliot says. "I try to keep my mind and body pure."

But that’s not the real reason why he hesitates. And it’s so like Eliot Spencer not to admit his real reasons, not even to himself in the narration. The author points out, via Parker and Hardison, what the real reason is:

"There aren't any entrances or exits to this apartment other than the door and the two west-facing windows," she says, seriously. "I checked."

"And I got at least six independent security systems on each of those," Hardison adds, without opening his eyes. "It's safe, man."

This is a great move, because it illustrates how reluctant Eliot is to name his fears, even to himself, and how Parker and Hardison know him so well that they know his fears anyway, and how to allay them. So Eliot takes the joint, and from there we go to the upside-down world. Hardison asks Eliot to call him by his first name, and the narration changes, Eliot calling him Alec even inside his head. The name change is symbolically powerful. And in the upside-down world, nothing we take for granted has to be true anymore.

He feels slow, clumsy even. It's a refreshing feeling, somehow. He couldn't defend himself against even a really decent fighter, and it's nice to know that he doesn't have to.

Eliot starts saying random things that pop into his head, and he can’t beat even a really decent fighter. Truly everything we know is fluid and subject to change. The narration itself changes to reflect Eliot’s altered state.

Her cheeks hollow as she sucks air in, and her blonde eyelashes fall onto her cheeks, and Eliot wishes he had a snapshot of how she looks in that moment.

The fixation on specific body parts, like Parker’s cheeks and eyelashes, and in an earlier passage Alec’s fingers, shows not only Eliot’s attraction to them but also the hyperfocused tunnel vision that often comes with a marijuana high.

One thing I love about this fic is that it never explicitly states that Parker and Hardison are together at the beginning but not with Eliot yet, but the fic hints at it gently. The first hint is that Alec knows that Parker likes pot while Eliot has no idea what she’s like on drugs. The second is that Parker seems comfortable with calling Hardison by his first name in a way that Eliot isn’t yet.

And it’s so clear, even though he never states it in the narration, that Eliot isn’t with Parker and Hardison yet, but longs for them quietly, helplessly. 

Eliot doesn't know where to put his hand for a minute, then just lets it fall down onto Alec's shoulder.

Look how hesitant he is to make contact, even though he obviously wants to!

Easily, and because he wants to, Eliot kisses Alec's arm, just below the sleeve of his t-shirt.

This line just kills me because Eliot feels like he has to justify kissing Alec, even inside his own head: “because he wants to.” As if he has to give himself a reason.

Beside him, Alec rolls onto his side a little, turns his head and blinks at him upside-down. Eliot kisses his mouth this time, just for a minute, just softly.

This line causes me nearly physical agony every time I read it, in the best way. Again, Eliot makes excuses in his head, as if he’s trying to explain to himself why he’s allowed to kiss Alec. It was just for a minute. It was just soft. That means it’s okay, right?

After they make out on the couch, they fall asleep, Eliot not even afraid of getting snuck up on in his sleep. When they wake, they’re back in the mundane world. Eliot calls Alec by his last name again. But nothing is quite the same. In the narration, he calls Alec by his first name, which he didn’t at the beginning of the fic. And Eliot’s voyage through the high upside-down world has given him new knowledge. 

And before last night, Eliot would never have said that Parker was anything but impulsive, spontaneous, but now he can see the thread of tension that she carries around with her. Impulsively, spontaneously, he squeezes her hand in his.

He now sees what Parker could be, what she might be, and wants to give it back to her, the total freedom she had last night. I love that repeat of “impulsive(ly), spontaneous(ly).” 

In the light of day, they fall back into their usual selves, but everything has changed between them. 

The Takeaway

What I learned from this fic as a writer is how to use narration to sink deeply into a character’s thoughts. Eliot never thinks in this fic, “I’m in love with Parker and Hardison and I wish I could kiss them but I feel like I’m not allowed to,” because that’s just a fact of life for him. Instead, we see his self-denial and self-doubt in how he doesn’t say aloud that he’s afraid to be vulnerable, in how he makes excuses to himself every time he gets more intimate with Parker and Hardison, as if he needs to justify it. This fic makes me want to experiment with how much I can imply about a character’s mindset with small narrative word choices.