Such a Thing as Monsters
Title: Such a Thing as Monsters
Crossover: Leverage/Supernatural
Characters: Parker, Eliot, Hardison, Sam, and Dean
Word Count: 5,500
Rating: PG
Spoilers for Leverage: Up to and including “The Gone Fishing Job” (307)
Spoilers for Supernatural: Up to and including “Weekend at Bobby’s” (604)
Warning(s): None that I can think of.
Disclaimer: I own nothing here and am just doing this for fun.
Summary: When Parker encounters something that seems way outside the ordinary, Eliot has to call in back-up.
A/N: Thanks to zortified, for bidding on my cross-over entry in the help_pakistan auction, and for your patience in giving me time to get the story finished. Hope this measures up to your expectations and was worth the wait. :)
When Eliot arrived at Nate’s apartment, he could hear the familiar sounds of Parker and Hardison bickering. He paused, hand on the door, trying to decide how annoying they sounded and if he’d need an extra cup of coffee to deal with them. He rated the argument as moderate and decided to chance going in.
“I’m all for imagination, but I’m telling you, you’re being ridiculous and just a little childish about this,” said Hardison.
Parker blew her bangs out of her face impatiently. “It’s not my imagination, Hardison.”
“Eliot, tell this girl that there’s no such thing as monsters.”
Eliot looked from the hacker to the thief, already rolling his eyes. “There’s something wrong with you.”
Parker just looked at him, unblinkingly, the shadows beneath her eyes making Eliot wish he’d said something else. Usually, she laughed off his common refrain about her strange behavior. This time, the closer he looked, the more he could tell there was something wrong with her.
Eliot softened his voice a fraction and tried again. “Of course there’s no such thing as monsters. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll come check out your place.”
Parker looked at first like she might refuse the offer, but squared her shoulders and nodded briskly. “Yeah, of course, there’s not. But if you’re willing to look around, check out my security.”
“Girl, your security is awesome. You don’t need him checking out your security,” said Harison, waving a hand emphatically.
“Never hurts to have an expert take a look,” replied Parker.
“Well, if you want an expert, I suppose I could come by too. You know, two brains are better than one and all of that.”
Eliot shrugged and looked at Parker, who shook her head, clearly carrying a grudge from their recent argument about monsters.
“Okay, fine, but at least take a few cameras and some simple surveillance gear, something even Mr. Brawny over here can handle. Because you can’t solve every problem just by punching someone.” Hardison walked over to the file cabinets that stored his various gadgets and wires.
“I can handle a couple of cameras and some surveillance equipment,” said Eliot. “I did have a whole life before you came along, you know.”
“Don’t I know it. And I bet it didn’t involve a single computer.” Hardison returned to them, carrying a tangle of small cameras, cables, and remotes.
“There was a computer or two. I mean, at least one thing had a keyboard,” said Eliot, annoyed that he was losing ground on this argument. He hated to give Hardison even half an inch on anything, just on general principle.
Parker giggled and clapped them both on the back before walking away, a gesture that Eliot took to be a thank-you. He half-listened while Hardison launched into an overly detailed account of how to use the cameras. But mostly, he was hoping that he hadn’t completely been lying when he’d assured Parker that there was no such thing as monsters.
---//---
Eliot slowly paced the perimeter of Parker’s main living area, if you could call it that. He blinked when he caught the edge of the harsh lights ringing her bed and supplies. Even though the place hadn’t surprised him the first time the team had assembled there, it was still unsettling to see how she lived, like the normality that had slowly seeped into her mannerisms over the last year or two were just a veneer.
After completing a circuit of the living area, Eliot walked the larger perimeter, unsure of what, exactly, he should be looking for. He walked back to Parker, who was hanging upside down from a bar in the center of the warehouse.
“So, what been going on then?”
In one fluid movement, Parker dismounted from the bar and landed silently in front of him. “Maybe Hardison is right, that I’m just making things up, but I swear, the last few weeks, it feels sometimes like I’m being watched.”
“Do you feel like you’re being watched now?”
“You mean by anyone other than you? No....and it’s not just that. I’ve found things out of place.”
Eliot ran his eyes over her supply tables, where the items were grouped according to purpose and the spares were lined up carefully together. Yeah, she’d definitely notice if even a single spoon was out of place. Observing and reacting to her environment were what had kept Parker alive all these years.
“What else?” he asked, feeling a little foolish that he couldn’t immediately find evidence of anything nefarious.
Parker nodded and went over to her bed. She pulled out a small footlocker, set it on an empty table, and picked the locks in seconds.
“Seriously, you don’t have a key?” asked Eliot.
“Don’t need one,” shrugged Parker as she popped open the lid and started to lift out items: a sparkling quartz rock, a bouquet of daisies, and a piece of bark.
Eliot lifted the flowers, which were wilted and starting to brown. “What the hell is this?”
“Things I found. At the foot of my bed. In the mornings.”
Eliot shook his head and picked up Hardison’s camera equipment. He couldn’t even begin to explain what was going on. If the items had been left outside, he might have thought that maybe a neighborhood kid with a crush was leaving them. If you could ignore that this wasn’t exactly a neighborhood that had kids, it was be a decent theory. But the fact that these offerings were being left on Parker’s bed while she slept....well, that was just plain creepy.
“OK, I’m going to set up the equipment, then I’ll come back around midnight and watch the video feed from my truck. Leave the door unlocked - I can be in here in a few seconds if someone comes in.”
“What if they don’t come tonight?” asked Parker.
“Then we’ll keep doing this until they do. We’re going to figure this out, Parker. I promise.”
She nodded, apparently satisfied, and helped him set up the camera equipment. Eliot declined her offer of dinner, reminding her with a gentle tease that cereal was not an appropriate dinner. He left to spend a few peaceful hours at his place, turning over the situation in his head. As much as he told himself that there had to be a logical, rational explanation for everything, he couldn’t conjure one up.
Eliot returned to Parker’s place just before midnight and turned on the receiver and monitors inside his truck. He could see Parker putting away her dishes before climbing into bed.
“I’m here, Parker. Sleep tight,” he said. He smiled when he heard her over the comms, wondering how someone could sleep tight. Wasn’t sleeping just sprawling around, or was she doing it wrong.
“Go to sleep,” he chided, watching the way she wriggled as she settled into her bed. It reminded him of a dog he had when he was younger, who’d always go through an elaborate routine of turning and fidgeting before finally laying down and going to sleep.
Eliot had forgotten how mind-numbingly boring surveillance work could be, especially when you were just waiting for the subject to show up. The minutes ticked by slowly and he occupied his mind by selecting well-known Boston landmarks and planning escape routes out of them. He was debating the relative merits of jumping overboard from the Boston Tea Party ship when he caught some movement on the monitor. It was a spot on the floor, about twenty feet from Parker’s bed, which just barely put it in the picture.
Taking no chances, Eliot jumped out of the truck. He made it to the warehouse door in three easy strides and edged the door open. Slipping inside, his eyes were already adjusted to the dim light and he was able to see a small, hunched figure near Parker’s bed.
Eliot advanced on the shape quickly and silently, but the figure froze and then scurried back to the spot where Eliot had first noticed movement. By the time he got there, the figure was gone and he could spot no evidence that it had ever been there at all. Eliot kicked the ground in frustration, waking Parker up.
“It came back,” she said, her voice flat as she picked up a dead fish from her bed.
Eliot came over and took the fish from her. It had been caught with a hook; he could still see the hole in the fish’s cheek. Was this a warning? An offering? What the hell was going on?
He went out to the truck and brought the monitor and receiver back into the warehouse. He fiddled with the remote for a few seconds until he was able to play back the video.
Parker and Eliot watched wordlessly as the creature, and there really was no other word for it, appeared to materialize right out of the concrete floor. It was under three feet tall, hunched and bulky, but moved with a surprising grace. They watched as it crept up to Parker’s bed, then sensed Eliot, dropped the fish, and rushed away. They could barely make out the images of the creature sinking into the ground, like it was on a secret invisible elevator.
“Can you stop it?” asked Parker, looking at Eliot with wide eyes.
He pressed his lips together for a few seconds before pulling out his cell phone. “Maybe not. But I know someone who definitely can.”
---//---
It took Eliot nearly an hour to convince Parker that not only did they need help, the help needed access to her place. Her first instinct was to abandon the warehouse, but he managed to convince her that staying put and dealing with this thing, whatever it might be, was the best course of action.
Eliot waited outside, smiling when he heard the purr of the Impala’s engine. It might have been years since he last worked with the Winchesters, but it was still comforting to know that some things never changed.
Dean was the first one out of the car, shaking Eliot’s hand and slapping him on the back like they’d come to play a game of touch football instead of to investigate some seriously messed up shit. Sam opted for a more reserved greeting, a nod followed by a gruff “So, what’ve we got here?”
“I wish I knew,” said Eliot as he punched in the code to the warehouse, nearly startling when he pulled open the door to find Parker standing directly on the other side. She didn’t make an attempt to get out of the way or appear embarrassed to have been caught. Eliot brushed past her with a thinly disguised growl for her to move, but she held her ground, openly examining their visitors.
“Hi there,” said Dean, turning on the charm with a high-powered smile. “I’m Dean, this is my brother, Sam.”
Sam smiled uneasily as he tried to move through the narrow opening between Parker and the doorframe without touching her. Parker watched them like she was judging the space between a grid of moving lasers.
“This is Parker,” said Eliot, heavily hinting at her to make nice with the guests, a hint that sailed several miles above her head. Sam shifted uncomfortably while Dean squared his shoulders and focused on the job, never giving a hint that a woman living in a warehouse was even the slightest bit strange.
“I guess the easiest way to start is to show you the video,” said Eliot, leading the brothers over to the monitor. They stood quietly and watched the creature materialize, skulk over to Parker’s bed, and then disappear after Eliot surprised it. Sam asked to see the footage several time before looking helplessly at Dean.
“Troll?” suggested the older brother.
“Possibly... but why would a troll end up here?” asked Dean as he walked over to examine the floor where the creature had appeared.
“Parker,” said Sam, pausing momentarily, like he wasn’t quite sure of her name. When she nodded, he continued. “Are you in the same line of work as Eliot?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m a thief.”
Dean grinned. “Honesty. I really like that in a woman.”
“What have you stolen recently? Anything unusual?” asked Sam.
“Nothing. No. I mean, I’ve lifted a few wallets, but nothing strange.” Parker looked down and stuffed her hands in her pockets.
“Parker, it’s important that you tell them the truth,” said Eliot.
“We’re the good guys now. I only steal what Nate tells me to. Oh, and that thing for Archie.”
“Thing for Archie?” asked Dean, his head perking up like a hunting dog on a trail.
“No, that has nothing to do with this.” Eliot waved the idea away.
“Okay, so if it’s nothing she’s stolen, then what could it be related to?” mused Sam.
Eliot’s gaze flickered between Dean and Parker.
“Not so fast. Parker, if you’re willing to admit that your actual occupation is thief, why won’t you let us know what jobs you’ve done recently?” asked Dean.
“Parker, we need to know so we can help fix this problem you have. No one’s going to tell...your boss,” said Sam, looking at Eliot for confirmation.
Eliot didn’t say anything. He just watched Parker have a mental conversation with herself that ended with a groaning sigh and a shrug. She stalked over to the wall and pressed her hand against what looked like an ordinary concrete block. After a few seconds, the wall swung back to reveal a small vault.
The three men crowded into the narrow space and took in the contents: several paintings, a few sculptures, an entire suit of armor for a horse, and a couple of large black duffle bags. Dean whistled a low note of appreciation.
“Is that the Van Gogh that was stolen from the special exhibition at the city hall?” asked Eliot.
Parker pressed her lips together and nodded. “Their security was practically asking for it.”
“Forget that. Dude, how do you steal a suit of armor for a horse?” asked Dean, running a hand over the sparkling silver.
“Can we focus here on the problem at hand?” interrupted Sam. Dean muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “killjoy” while Sam rolled his eyes.
“Parker, when did you steal all this stuff?” asked Eliot, hoping to narrow down the timeframe.
“While Nate was in prison. And most of it when he was first gone. After you and Sophie started finding jobs for us, then I had something else to do.”
“Seriously Parker, that was like a matter of days, maybe a couple of weeks at most,” said Eliot.
“Bad things happen when I get bored, so I was trying not get bored. Nate was gone and we were all just sitting around.”
“We were not just sitting around,” said Eliot, his face turning red. “Some of us were trying to figure things out. We weren’t running around stealing anything that wasn’t nailed down.”
“Hey, lovebirds, can we focus here?” interrupted Dean.
Parker laughed, sounding like a braying donkey.
“Me and her? Nuh-huh. There’s something wrong with her,” protested Eliot.
“He’s way too grumpy all the time anyway.”
“When was this stuff taken?” asked Sam, trying to restore focus.
“Several months ago,” said Eliot.
“That probably doesn’t fit then,” said Sam, thinking out loud. “You steal from a jealous monster and retribution is usually fast and definite.”
“So if it’s not something you’ve done or something you stole, maybe it’s some place you’ve been. Where’ve you been lately?” asked Dean.
Parker shrugged. “I don’t know. Boston, mostly... high school reunion, an agriculture company, normal places, I guess... Memphis.”
“Have you been to any forests or state parks, anything like that?” asked Sam.
“Yeah,” said Eliot. “We did a job out in the sticks. She didn’t spend a lot of time in the woods, but she was there.”
“A forest creature. There’s lore on that. We’ll do some research. Give us a few hours and we might have an idea,” said Sam.
---//---
The Winchesters were as good as their word, arriving back a few hours later with an armload of dusty books and an idea.
Sam opened one of the books, brushed aside some debris, and began to read in what Eliot recognized as his college professor voice. “The bugul noz is a smallish and hideously ugly little fae, with dark and twisted features, covered in unsightly growths. So repulsive, he is said to curdle milk and even the other fae have rejected him.
“Now, the only thing that doesn’t square is that these things are usually found in Brittany, but we’ve been seeing this a lot lately - monsters showing up outside their usual areas.”
“Is it dangerous?” asked Eliot.
“Dude, it’s a fairy. You want to mess with a fairy? Especially some pissed-off ugly step-sister of a fairy? You already forgotten those Brownies in Wyoming?” said Dean.
Eliot shook his head and rubbed his lower back, where he had a scattering of small, odd-shaped scars from that particular encounter.
“Now that sounds interesting,” said Parker, perking up for the first time since the books came out. “Tell me about the Brownies.”
“Can we focus here?” asked Sam, snapping the book shut, a sour look on his face.
Parker sighed and slouched back theatrically on her bed. “Hardison’s briefings are way better than this.”
“Yeah, well Hardison’s not here. We are,” said Dean. “And we need to come up with a plan to deal with this Prince Not-So-Charming...I’m thinking our best shot is to trap him the next time he comes calling.”
“Oooh,” interrupted Parker, raising her hand, “I have a trap we can use. It’s a spring trap, but it won’t hurt it.”
“Why do you-” began Sam, but Eliot interrupted, telling him not to bother asking.
“I also have a me-sized dummy that we can use in the bed as bait, then the rest of us can hide around the warehouse and wait.”
“Why-”
Parker turned to Sam and answered the half-expressed question deliberately, like she was explaining simple math to a slow child. “For testing harnesses.”
“Parker, will you marry me?” asked Dean with a grin, but Parker was too focused gathering what they needed for the plan to pay attention. She began setting items on the bed and thinking out loud, listing all the possible hiding places where they could wait.
“Parker, I don’t want you in the warehouse when this thing comes back. Now that we know it’s a fairy, we have no idea what it’s capable of,” said Eliot.
She pouted. “Eliot, if the thing wanted to hurt me, it already would’ve hurt me.”
“Eliot’s right. We have no idea what kind of magic this thing might have. Fairies can have very powerful and dangerous magic,” said Sam.
“I want to be here,” said Parker, sitting down on her bed and folding her arms.
“Okay, okay, we can work something out. How about if you and Eliot waited out in the truck with the closed circuit tv, and then you can come right in after we have the thing contained?” suggested Dean.
Sam and Eliot both tried to derail the idea, but Parker jumped off the bed and shook Dean’s hand. “Deal. No take backs.”
“You heard the lady,” said Dean. “No take backs. Let’s get things moving.”
---//---
They’d been sitting in the truck for three hours and Eliot was ready to punch something. Or maybe someone. It was getting to the point where he wouldn’t be real picky about it.
He was trying to keep his eyes focused on the small monitor, where a grainy image of the warehouse flickered, but Parker was making it impossible. She was fidgeting like a toddler on a sugar rush, only it was more annoying because toddlers don’t usually sigh dramatically while they flopped around.
”And just how are you the world’s greatest cat burglar if you can’t even sit still for two damn minutes?” Eliot snapped.
“I can when I’m working. This is just boring.”
“Well....pretend that you’re working and knock it off already.”
Eliot followed up the words with a meaningful look and Parker froze, then slowly adjusted herself into a comfortable position. As the minutes crept along and she didn’t move, Eliot was about ready to congratulate himself on the small victory when she asked one of those unnerving out-of-the-blue, no-preamble-or-preparation questions.
“What are they going to do with the guy....the thing....whatever....when they catch him?”
“Honestly? Kill it, I guess,” replied Eliot with a half-shrug.
“But these books say the creature is harmless.”
Eliot looked over and found Parker surrounded by Sam’s books. “Where did you? No, never mind. I already know that Sam didn’t lend them to you... Seriously, Parker? It’s just rude to steal from guys who are trying to help you.”
“But don’t you think it’s weird that he left out the part about it being harmless? It sounds to me like the poor thing is just sad and lonely.”
“Oh no, you can’t go thinking about these things like they’re human. Because they’re not. Trust me on this.”
“Still, doesn’t killing it seem kind of extreme to you?”
Eliot rubbed his head, wishing he could will away the incipient headache that was starting right behind his eyeballs. The one that always let him know that things were taking a turn for the worse.
“I don’t know, Parker,” he finally said with a sigh. “Maybe... look, these guys are the experts. Maybe they know things that we don’t. Maybe we just need to trust them.”
“How do you know them anyway?”
“I used to work with Dean and his dad years ago. When I was getting started in retrieval,” said Eliot, hoping this would satisfy Parker enough to keep her from a fishing expedition. “Trust them. They’re good at their jobs, as good as you are.”
The reassurance seemed to settle her and they lapsed into an easy silence. Eliot was relieved. He really didn’t want to get into stories from that time. Usually, he could see his job like a chessboard, all the pieces visible and all the moves available. Working with the Winchesters that last time had been like playing chess blindfolded, and it wasn’t an experience he liked to think about.
---//---
By 4am, Eliot was about ready to throw in the towel. His back hurt and he didn’t think either he or Parker had moved a muscle in the last few hours. From her even breathing, he guessed she’d been asleep for awhile.
Eliot was running through his mental map of Fenway Park when Parker’s voice startled him.
“Sorry, I seem to be doing that a lot lately,” she said.
“What? No...I just thought you were sleeping.”
“I wasn’t,” she said before going quiet again. Eliot thought she’d gone back to wherever she lived in that crazy head of hers.
“Eliot, how many people have you killed?”
The question caught him off-guard and stung a little, since it was asked in such a simple, matter-of-fact way. It was disconcerting to be asked in the same way a normal person would ask what he’d had for dinner.
“I don’t know, Parker, what kind of question is that?”
She half-shrugged. “One that I wanted to know the answer to. That’s why I asked.”
“Too many,” was the answer he settled on.
“Too many to count?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“No... just too many...” he let the statement hang in the air, unsure of how to finish it.
“I’ve killed three people,” she said, knitting her fingers together as she looked out the window, avoiding eye contact with him.
Eliot had heard a rumor once of a cop who had nearly caught the elusive thief on the roof of a high-raise in Hong Kong. The guy had ended up on the street below, the death classified as ‘suspicious’. But that was the only time he’d heard Parker’s name mentioned in connection with a death. And from the tone in her voice, he guessed something else entirely was going on inside her head.
“Parker, your brother doesn’t count. That wasn’t your fault,” he said, hoping that he wasn’t flying too far outside both of their comfort zones.
She drew her legs up in front of her and wrapped her arms around them. “It feels like it should count.”
“I get that. But it doesn’t. It wasn’t your fault.”
“My brother... my mom... they both seem like my fault.”
Eliot held his breath, afraid to disrupt the moment and unsure of what to say or do. It was like having a wild bird land on your shoulder. Parker looked over at him, then sharply away and he was sure he’d messed up somehow.
“The creature’s back,” she said excitedly. Eliot caught movement on the monitor and could see the trap springing into action. Before he could even open the truck door, Parker was at the warehouse.
“Girl’s gonna be the death of me if she ain’t careful,” he muttered to himself as he stumbled out of the truck. He cracked his back and raced into the warehouse, where Parker had already turned on the bright spotlights. Sam and Dean stood over the cage, blinking and trying to shade their eyes.
“I need to know what you’re going to do with him,” insisted Parker, advancing slowly on the brothers.
“We’re going to take him to a nice farm in the country where he can live happily ever after, frolicking in the sunlight,” said Dean.
“Really?” asked Parker, her body momentarily relaxing.
Sam shook his head. “No, Parker, not really. This guy’s not just ugly, he’s dangerous and we have to.... terminate this problem before it gets really out of hand.”
“Those books say he’s harmless,” said Parker as Eliot joined her. They were both standing near the brothers now and Eliot could just about see into the cage. The stench was nearly overwhelming, but he couldn’t make out much of the huddled mass beyond the thick metal bars. All he could see was a flash of denim and some lumps with bristly hair sticking out of them.
“We don’t know that for certain. He’s fae and they have powerful magic,” replied Sam.
“Well, I don’t think that he dangerous,” said Parker. “I want you to leave now.”
“All due respect, honey, this isn’t really your call. We wouldn’t tell you how to steal from an art museum - you don’t tell us how to dispose of a monster,” said Dean, his voice edging into the tone that Eliot had always called ‘testy’.
Eliot knew he had about 30 seconds to defuse the situation before it got ugly. “All right, look, guys, can I talk to you outside for a minute?”
“You want us to leave her, alone and unarmed, in here with this thing? After we spent all night trying to catch it?” asked Sam.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m asking,” said Eliot, although his tone made it clear that it wasn’t a request at all.
Dean sighed and held up his hands in surrender. “For the record, it’s a bad idea.”
“I’ll take full responsibility for it. And like you’ve never had a bad idea,” said Eliot as he herded the reluctant brothers out of the warehouse.
---//---
Outside, a streak of pink on the horizon announced that dawn was imminent, but it was still dark out. In the dim exterior lights, Eliot could barely see the brothers’ faces, but he could see enough to know that Sam was pissed off and Dean was exhausted and annoyed.
“I just don’t understand why you dragged us all the way here because your friend’s in danger and then you leave her alone with that danger,” said Sam, taking a step closer to Eliot so that he was looming over him.
Eliot resisted the urge to push Sam away. “And I don’t understand why you didn’t tell us the thing is essentially harmless.”
“Because I don’t know that it is. Books can be wrong, you know,” Sam ran a hand through his hair and looked like he was going to say more, but then he shook his head. “No, you know what, good luck. This is your problem now.”
Eliot and Dean watched in silence as Sam stomped over to the Impala and got into the passenger side.
“Sorry, man, he gets cranky when he doesn’t get his beaty sleep,” said Dean, managing a sheepish grin.
“No problem. I guess you’re headed off now.”
“You know what, let’s let Sammy have a little nap. Cool off for a bit. We can watch the monitor and make sure Parker’s safe.”
Eliot led the way over to the truck, even though it was the last place he wanted to be at the moment. His back muscles protested as he settled into the seat. The atmosphere in the truck was comfortable. They could’ve just been two old friends watching television, except that they were in the cab of a pick-up truck watching a flickering image of Parker pushing cereal through the cage bars to the creature.
“Hey man, thanks for coming. I’d say we’re even now,” said Eliot.
Dean snorted. “Honestly, this little side trip has been a vacation as far as I’m concerned. I’m lucky this one isn’t going down on my side of the balance sheet or I might never be able to pay you back.”
“Trouble in Winchesterland?”
“When isn’t there? Only difference now is that there’s a freaking blue light special on trouble. The worst kind of trouble,” said Dean, a bitter edge to his voice as his eyes shifted subtly from the monitor to the Impala. Eliot could just about see Sam’s hulking shape inside the car.
“Sam seems... a little different?”
“Yeah, and that Bugul Noz seems a little ugly,” replied Dean, pressing his thumb and forefinger into the bridge of his nose.
Eliot managed a small smile but said nothing, waiting for Dean to fill in the blanks.
Instead, Dean sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s nothing I can do but wait it out and hope something changes.”
“Still, must be hard working with someone you can’t fully trust.”
Dean looked up, his eyes fiery. “That’s what always sucked about working with you, Spencer. You always knew the one thing to say to get to a guy the most.”
“Just part of my charm, I guess,” said Eliot. “Calling ‘em like I see ‘em.”
“Yeah, well, you called this one right. Bastard,” replied Dean, no heat to the words and Eliot had to wonder who the epithet was really directed at. “Oh man, what’s she doing?”
They both watched on the monitor as Parker opened the cage and reached out a hand to the creature. It waddled out, looking ridiculously short and squat next to her lithe frame. She smiled down at it and Dean shuddered.
“It really is freaking ugly, isn’t it? Like even a mother-couldn’t-love-it-ugly,” said Dean while Eliot murmured his agreement, his muscles twitching with the impulse to protect Parker.
But they both stayed in the truck, watching as she led it over to the space where it was able to move through the floor. Parker left the video frame for a few seconds, returning with a few boxes of cereal.
“She must like the thing, if she’s giving it cereal. The only thing more important to her than cereal is money,” observed Eliot.
The creature took the cereal, gave a little wave and then slowly sunk through the floor.
“I wish I knew how it did that,” whispered Dean. “That really freaks me out. Moving through concrete like that.”
Eliot and Dean got out of the car and met a bubbly Parker at the warehouse door.
“It was just a big misunderstanding,” she said with a grin. “Buggie didn’t mean to scare anybody.”
“Buggie”, repeated Dean incredulously.
Parker nodded. “It’s going to be fine. We understand each other now. Thanks for your help.”
Dean held out a hand to Parker and shook it. “Eliot’s right, there’s something wrong with you...but maybe in the best possible way.”
He slapped Eliot on the back, took a deep breath, and headed back to the Impala. Eliot turned to Parker.
“You’re going to be okay here, then?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Only...”
“What?”
“I don’t have any milk, since it all went bad just now...”
“Parker, I’m not your driver and fetcher,” grumbled Eliot.
“No, no. I meant, well, there will be driving involved, but no fetching. I was thinking we could go get pancakes at that diner you like.”
Eliot covered his smile with a sigh. “We can do that.”
“I can even drive,” offered Parker. “I know you’re all sore from sitting in the truck all night.”
“No way, not after last time,” replied Eliot as he raced Parker to the truck. At least this time, the monster turned out to be less monstrous than he feared. He could only hope that his, and his team’s, luck in that department continued.
Crossover: Leverage/Supernatural
Characters: Parker, Eliot, Hardison, Sam, and Dean
Word Count: 5,500
Rating: PG
Spoilers for Leverage: Up to and including “The Gone Fishing Job” (307)
Spoilers for Supernatural: Up to and including “Weekend at Bobby’s” (604)
Warning(s): None that I can think of.
Disclaimer: I own nothing here and am just doing this for fun.
Summary: When Parker encounters something that seems way outside the ordinary, Eliot has to call in back-up.
A/N: Thanks to zortified, for bidding on my cross-over entry in the help_pakistan auction, and for your patience in giving me time to get the story finished. Hope this measures up to your expectations and was worth the wait. :)
When Eliot arrived at Nate’s apartment, he could hear the familiar sounds of Parker and Hardison bickering. He paused, hand on the door, trying to decide how annoying they sounded and if he’d need an extra cup of coffee to deal with them. He rated the argument as moderate and decided to chance going in.
“I’m all for imagination, but I’m telling you, you’re being ridiculous and just a little childish about this,” said Hardison.
Parker blew her bangs out of her face impatiently. “It’s not my imagination, Hardison.”
“Eliot, tell this girl that there’s no such thing as monsters.”
Eliot looked from the hacker to the thief, already rolling his eyes. “There’s something wrong with you.”
Parker just looked at him, unblinkingly, the shadows beneath her eyes making Eliot wish he’d said something else. Usually, she laughed off his common refrain about her strange behavior. This time, the closer he looked, the more he could tell there was something wrong with her.
Eliot softened his voice a fraction and tried again. “Of course there’s no such thing as monsters. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll come check out your place.”
Parker looked at first like she might refuse the offer, but squared her shoulders and nodded briskly. “Yeah, of course, there’s not. But if you’re willing to look around, check out my security.”
“Girl, your security is awesome. You don’t need him checking out your security,” said Harison, waving a hand emphatically.
“Never hurts to have an expert take a look,” replied Parker.
“Well, if you want an expert, I suppose I could come by too. You know, two brains are better than one and all of that.”
Eliot shrugged and looked at Parker, who shook her head, clearly carrying a grudge from their recent argument about monsters.
“Okay, fine, but at least take a few cameras and some simple surveillance gear, something even Mr. Brawny over here can handle. Because you can’t solve every problem just by punching someone.” Hardison walked over to the file cabinets that stored his various gadgets and wires.
“I can handle a couple of cameras and some surveillance equipment,” said Eliot. “I did have a whole life before you came along, you know.”
“Don’t I know it. And I bet it didn’t involve a single computer.” Hardison returned to them, carrying a tangle of small cameras, cables, and remotes.
“There was a computer or two. I mean, at least one thing had a keyboard,” said Eliot, annoyed that he was losing ground on this argument. He hated to give Hardison even half an inch on anything, just on general principle.
Parker giggled and clapped them both on the back before walking away, a gesture that Eliot took to be a thank-you. He half-listened while Hardison launched into an overly detailed account of how to use the cameras. But mostly, he was hoping that he hadn’t completely been lying when he’d assured Parker that there was no such thing as monsters.
---//---
Eliot slowly paced the perimeter of Parker’s main living area, if you could call it that. He blinked when he caught the edge of the harsh lights ringing her bed and supplies. Even though the place hadn’t surprised him the first time the team had assembled there, it was still unsettling to see how she lived, like the normality that had slowly seeped into her mannerisms over the last year or two were just a veneer.
After completing a circuit of the living area, Eliot walked the larger perimeter, unsure of what, exactly, he should be looking for. He walked back to Parker, who was hanging upside down from a bar in the center of the warehouse.
“So, what been going on then?”
In one fluid movement, Parker dismounted from the bar and landed silently in front of him. “Maybe Hardison is right, that I’m just making things up, but I swear, the last few weeks, it feels sometimes like I’m being watched.”
“Do you feel like you’re being watched now?”
“You mean by anyone other than you? No....and it’s not just that. I’ve found things out of place.”
Eliot ran his eyes over her supply tables, where the items were grouped according to purpose and the spares were lined up carefully together. Yeah, she’d definitely notice if even a single spoon was out of place. Observing and reacting to her environment were what had kept Parker alive all these years.
“What else?” he asked, feeling a little foolish that he couldn’t immediately find evidence of anything nefarious.
Parker nodded and went over to her bed. She pulled out a small footlocker, set it on an empty table, and picked the locks in seconds.
“Seriously, you don’t have a key?” asked Eliot.
“Don’t need one,” shrugged Parker as she popped open the lid and started to lift out items: a sparkling quartz rock, a bouquet of daisies, and a piece of bark.
Eliot lifted the flowers, which were wilted and starting to brown. “What the hell is this?”
“Things I found. At the foot of my bed. In the mornings.”
Eliot shook his head and picked up Hardison’s camera equipment. He couldn’t even begin to explain what was going on. If the items had been left outside, he might have thought that maybe a neighborhood kid with a crush was leaving them. If you could ignore that this wasn’t exactly a neighborhood that had kids, it was be a decent theory. But the fact that these offerings were being left on Parker’s bed while she slept....well, that was just plain creepy.
“OK, I’m going to set up the equipment, then I’ll come back around midnight and watch the video feed from my truck. Leave the door unlocked - I can be in here in a few seconds if someone comes in.”
“What if they don’t come tonight?” asked Parker.
“Then we’ll keep doing this until they do. We’re going to figure this out, Parker. I promise.”
She nodded, apparently satisfied, and helped him set up the camera equipment. Eliot declined her offer of dinner, reminding her with a gentle tease that cereal was not an appropriate dinner. He left to spend a few peaceful hours at his place, turning over the situation in his head. As much as he told himself that there had to be a logical, rational explanation for everything, he couldn’t conjure one up.
Eliot returned to Parker’s place just before midnight and turned on the receiver and monitors inside his truck. He could see Parker putting away her dishes before climbing into bed.
“I’m here, Parker. Sleep tight,” he said. He smiled when he heard her over the comms, wondering how someone could sleep tight. Wasn’t sleeping just sprawling around, or was she doing it wrong.
“Go to sleep,” he chided, watching the way she wriggled as she settled into her bed. It reminded him of a dog he had when he was younger, who’d always go through an elaborate routine of turning and fidgeting before finally laying down and going to sleep.
Eliot had forgotten how mind-numbingly boring surveillance work could be, especially when you were just waiting for the subject to show up. The minutes ticked by slowly and he occupied his mind by selecting well-known Boston landmarks and planning escape routes out of them. He was debating the relative merits of jumping overboard from the Boston Tea Party ship when he caught some movement on the monitor. It was a spot on the floor, about twenty feet from Parker’s bed, which just barely put it in the picture.
Taking no chances, Eliot jumped out of the truck. He made it to the warehouse door in three easy strides and edged the door open. Slipping inside, his eyes were already adjusted to the dim light and he was able to see a small, hunched figure near Parker’s bed.
Eliot advanced on the shape quickly and silently, but the figure froze and then scurried back to the spot where Eliot had first noticed movement. By the time he got there, the figure was gone and he could spot no evidence that it had ever been there at all. Eliot kicked the ground in frustration, waking Parker up.
“It came back,” she said, her voice flat as she picked up a dead fish from her bed.
Eliot came over and took the fish from her. It had been caught with a hook; he could still see the hole in the fish’s cheek. Was this a warning? An offering? What the hell was going on?
He went out to the truck and brought the monitor and receiver back into the warehouse. He fiddled with the remote for a few seconds until he was able to play back the video.
Parker and Eliot watched wordlessly as the creature, and there really was no other word for it, appeared to materialize right out of the concrete floor. It was under three feet tall, hunched and bulky, but moved with a surprising grace. They watched as it crept up to Parker’s bed, then sensed Eliot, dropped the fish, and rushed away. They could barely make out the images of the creature sinking into the ground, like it was on a secret invisible elevator.
“Can you stop it?” asked Parker, looking at Eliot with wide eyes.
He pressed his lips together for a few seconds before pulling out his cell phone. “Maybe not. But I know someone who definitely can.”
---//---
It took Eliot nearly an hour to convince Parker that not only did they need help, the help needed access to her place. Her first instinct was to abandon the warehouse, but he managed to convince her that staying put and dealing with this thing, whatever it might be, was the best course of action.
Eliot waited outside, smiling when he heard the purr of the Impala’s engine. It might have been years since he last worked with the Winchesters, but it was still comforting to know that some things never changed.
Dean was the first one out of the car, shaking Eliot’s hand and slapping him on the back like they’d come to play a game of touch football instead of to investigate some seriously messed up shit. Sam opted for a more reserved greeting, a nod followed by a gruff “So, what’ve we got here?”
“I wish I knew,” said Eliot as he punched in the code to the warehouse, nearly startling when he pulled open the door to find Parker standing directly on the other side. She didn’t make an attempt to get out of the way or appear embarrassed to have been caught. Eliot brushed past her with a thinly disguised growl for her to move, but she held her ground, openly examining their visitors.
“Hi there,” said Dean, turning on the charm with a high-powered smile. “I’m Dean, this is my brother, Sam.”
Sam smiled uneasily as he tried to move through the narrow opening between Parker and the doorframe without touching her. Parker watched them like she was judging the space between a grid of moving lasers.
“This is Parker,” said Eliot, heavily hinting at her to make nice with the guests, a hint that sailed several miles above her head. Sam shifted uncomfortably while Dean squared his shoulders and focused on the job, never giving a hint that a woman living in a warehouse was even the slightest bit strange.
“I guess the easiest way to start is to show you the video,” said Eliot, leading the brothers over to the monitor. They stood quietly and watched the creature materialize, skulk over to Parker’s bed, and then disappear after Eliot surprised it. Sam asked to see the footage several time before looking helplessly at Dean.
“Troll?” suggested the older brother.
“Possibly... but why would a troll end up here?” asked Dean as he walked over to examine the floor where the creature had appeared.
“Parker,” said Sam, pausing momentarily, like he wasn’t quite sure of her name. When she nodded, he continued. “Are you in the same line of work as Eliot?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m a thief.”
Dean grinned. “Honesty. I really like that in a woman.”
“What have you stolen recently? Anything unusual?” asked Sam.
“Nothing. No. I mean, I’ve lifted a few wallets, but nothing strange.” Parker looked down and stuffed her hands in her pockets.
“Parker, it’s important that you tell them the truth,” said Eliot.
“We’re the good guys now. I only steal what Nate tells me to. Oh, and that thing for Archie.”
“Thing for Archie?” asked Dean, his head perking up like a hunting dog on a trail.
“No, that has nothing to do with this.” Eliot waved the idea away.
“Okay, so if it’s nothing she’s stolen, then what could it be related to?” mused Sam.
Eliot’s gaze flickered between Dean and Parker.
“Not so fast. Parker, if you’re willing to admit that your actual occupation is thief, why won’t you let us know what jobs you’ve done recently?” asked Dean.
“Parker, we need to know so we can help fix this problem you have. No one’s going to tell...your boss,” said Sam, looking at Eliot for confirmation.
Eliot didn’t say anything. He just watched Parker have a mental conversation with herself that ended with a groaning sigh and a shrug. She stalked over to the wall and pressed her hand against what looked like an ordinary concrete block. After a few seconds, the wall swung back to reveal a small vault.
The three men crowded into the narrow space and took in the contents: several paintings, a few sculptures, an entire suit of armor for a horse, and a couple of large black duffle bags. Dean whistled a low note of appreciation.
“Is that the Van Gogh that was stolen from the special exhibition at the city hall?” asked Eliot.
Parker pressed her lips together and nodded. “Their security was practically asking for it.”
“Forget that. Dude, how do you steal a suit of armor for a horse?” asked Dean, running a hand over the sparkling silver.
“Can we focus here on the problem at hand?” interrupted Sam. Dean muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “killjoy” while Sam rolled his eyes.
“Parker, when did you steal all this stuff?” asked Eliot, hoping to narrow down the timeframe.
“While Nate was in prison. And most of it when he was first gone. After you and Sophie started finding jobs for us, then I had something else to do.”
“Seriously Parker, that was like a matter of days, maybe a couple of weeks at most,” said Eliot.
“Bad things happen when I get bored, so I was trying not get bored. Nate was gone and we were all just sitting around.”
“We were not just sitting around,” said Eliot, his face turning red. “Some of us were trying to figure things out. We weren’t running around stealing anything that wasn’t nailed down.”
“Hey, lovebirds, can we focus here?” interrupted Dean.
Parker laughed, sounding like a braying donkey.
“Me and her? Nuh-huh. There’s something wrong with her,” protested Eliot.
“He’s way too grumpy all the time anyway.”
“When was this stuff taken?” asked Sam, trying to restore focus.
“Several months ago,” said Eliot.
“That probably doesn’t fit then,” said Sam, thinking out loud. “You steal from a jealous monster and retribution is usually fast and definite.”
“So if it’s not something you’ve done or something you stole, maybe it’s some place you’ve been. Where’ve you been lately?” asked Dean.
Parker shrugged. “I don’t know. Boston, mostly... high school reunion, an agriculture company, normal places, I guess... Memphis.”
“Have you been to any forests or state parks, anything like that?” asked Sam.
“Yeah,” said Eliot. “We did a job out in the sticks. She didn’t spend a lot of time in the woods, but she was there.”
“A forest creature. There’s lore on that. We’ll do some research. Give us a few hours and we might have an idea,” said Sam.
---//---
The Winchesters were as good as their word, arriving back a few hours later with an armload of dusty books and an idea.
Sam opened one of the books, brushed aside some debris, and began to read in what Eliot recognized as his college professor voice. “The bugul noz is a smallish and hideously ugly little fae, with dark and twisted features, covered in unsightly growths. So repulsive, he is said to curdle milk and even the other fae have rejected him.
“Now, the only thing that doesn’t square is that these things are usually found in Brittany, but we’ve been seeing this a lot lately - monsters showing up outside their usual areas.”
“Is it dangerous?” asked Eliot.
“Dude, it’s a fairy. You want to mess with a fairy? Especially some pissed-off ugly step-sister of a fairy? You already forgotten those Brownies in Wyoming?” said Dean.
Eliot shook his head and rubbed his lower back, where he had a scattering of small, odd-shaped scars from that particular encounter.
“Now that sounds interesting,” said Parker, perking up for the first time since the books came out. “Tell me about the Brownies.”
“Can we focus here?” asked Sam, snapping the book shut, a sour look on his face.
Parker sighed and slouched back theatrically on her bed. “Hardison’s briefings are way better than this.”
“Yeah, well Hardison’s not here. We are,” said Dean. “And we need to come up with a plan to deal with this Prince Not-So-Charming...I’m thinking our best shot is to trap him the next time he comes calling.”
“Oooh,” interrupted Parker, raising her hand, “I have a trap we can use. It’s a spring trap, but it won’t hurt it.”
“Why do you-” began Sam, but Eliot interrupted, telling him not to bother asking.
“I also have a me-sized dummy that we can use in the bed as bait, then the rest of us can hide around the warehouse and wait.”
“Why-”
Parker turned to Sam and answered the half-expressed question deliberately, like she was explaining simple math to a slow child. “For testing harnesses.”
“Parker, will you marry me?” asked Dean with a grin, but Parker was too focused gathering what they needed for the plan to pay attention. She began setting items on the bed and thinking out loud, listing all the possible hiding places where they could wait.
“Parker, I don’t want you in the warehouse when this thing comes back. Now that we know it’s a fairy, we have no idea what it’s capable of,” said Eliot.
She pouted. “Eliot, if the thing wanted to hurt me, it already would’ve hurt me.”
“Eliot’s right. We have no idea what kind of magic this thing might have. Fairies can have very powerful and dangerous magic,” said Sam.
“I want to be here,” said Parker, sitting down on her bed and folding her arms.
“Okay, okay, we can work something out. How about if you and Eliot waited out in the truck with the closed circuit tv, and then you can come right in after we have the thing contained?” suggested Dean.
Sam and Eliot both tried to derail the idea, but Parker jumped off the bed and shook Dean’s hand. “Deal. No take backs.”
“You heard the lady,” said Dean. “No take backs. Let’s get things moving.”
---//---
They’d been sitting in the truck for three hours and Eliot was ready to punch something. Or maybe someone. It was getting to the point where he wouldn’t be real picky about it.
He was trying to keep his eyes focused on the small monitor, where a grainy image of the warehouse flickered, but Parker was making it impossible. She was fidgeting like a toddler on a sugar rush, only it was more annoying because toddlers don’t usually sigh dramatically while they flopped around.
”And just how are you the world’s greatest cat burglar if you can’t even sit still for two damn minutes?” Eliot snapped.
“I can when I’m working. This is just boring.”
“Well....pretend that you’re working and knock it off already.”
Eliot followed up the words with a meaningful look and Parker froze, then slowly adjusted herself into a comfortable position. As the minutes crept along and she didn’t move, Eliot was about ready to congratulate himself on the small victory when she asked one of those unnerving out-of-the-blue, no-preamble-or-preparation questions.
“What are they going to do with the guy....the thing....whatever....when they catch him?”
“Honestly? Kill it, I guess,” replied Eliot with a half-shrug.
“But these books say the creature is harmless.”
Eliot looked over and found Parker surrounded by Sam’s books. “Where did you? No, never mind. I already know that Sam didn’t lend them to you... Seriously, Parker? It’s just rude to steal from guys who are trying to help you.”
“But don’t you think it’s weird that he left out the part about it being harmless? It sounds to me like the poor thing is just sad and lonely.”
“Oh no, you can’t go thinking about these things like they’re human. Because they’re not. Trust me on this.”
“Still, doesn’t killing it seem kind of extreme to you?”
Eliot rubbed his head, wishing he could will away the incipient headache that was starting right behind his eyeballs. The one that always let him know that things were taking a turn for the worse.
“I don’t know, Parker,” he finally said with a sigh. “Maybe... look, these guys are the experts. Maybe they know things that we don’t. Maybe we just need to trust them.”
“How do you know them anyway?”
“I used to work with Dean and his dad years ago. When I was getting started in retrieval,” said Eliot, hoping this would satisfy Parker enough to keep her from a fishing expedition. “Trust them. They’re good at their jobs, as good as you are.”
The reassurance seemed to settle her and they lapsed into an easy silence. Eliot was relieved. He really didn’t want to get into stories from that time. Usually, he could see his job like a chessboard, all the pieces visible and all the moves available. Working with the Winchesters that last time had been like playing chess blindfolded, and it wasn’t an experience he liked to think about.
---//---
By 4am, Eliot was about ready to throw in the towel. His back hurt and he didn’t think either he or Parker had moved a muscle in the last few hours. From her even breathing, he guessed she’d been asleep for awhile.
Eliot was running through his mental map of Fenway Park when Parker’s voice startled him.
“Sorry, I seem to be doing that a lot lately,” she said.
“What? No...I just thought you were sleeping.”
“I wasn’t,” she said before going quiet again. Eliot thought she’d gone back to wherever she lived in that crazy head of hers.
“Eliot, how many people have you killed?”
The question caught him off-guard and stung a little, since it was asked in such a simple, matter-of-fact way. It was disconcerting to be asked in the same way a normal person would ask what he’d had for dinner.
“I don’t know, Parker, what kind of question is that?”
She half-shrugged. “One that I wanted to know the answer to. That’s why I asked.”
“Too many,” was the answer he settled on.
“Too many to count?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“No... just too many...” he let the statement hang in the air, unsure of how to finish it.
“I’ve killed three people,” she said, knitting her fingers together as she looked out the window, avoiding eye contact with him.
Eliot had heard a rumor once of a cop who had nearly caught the elusive thief on the roof of a high-raise in Hong Kong. The guy had ended up on the street below, the death classified as ‘suspicious’. But that was the only time he’d heard Parker’s name mentioned in connection with a death. And from the tone in her voice, he guessed something else entirely was going on inside her head.
“Parker, your brother doesn’t count. That wasn’t your fault,” he said, hoping that he wasn’t flying too far outside both of their comfort zones.
She drew her legs up in front of her and wrapped her arms around them. “It feels like it should count.”
“I get that. But it doesn’t. It wasn’t your fault.”
“My brother... my mom... they both seem like my fault.”
Eliot held his breath, afraid to disrupt the moment and unsure of what to say or do. It was like having a wild bird land on your shoulder. Parker looked over at him, then sharply away and he was sure he’d messed up somehow.
“The creature’s back,” she said excitedly. Eliot caught movement on the monitor and could see the trap springing into action. Before he could even open the truck door, Parker was at the warehouse.
“Girl’s gonna be the death of me if she ain’t careful,” he muttered to himself as he stumbled out of the truck. He cracked his back and raced into the warehouse, where Parker had already turned on the bright spotlights. Sam and Dean stood over the cage, blinking and trying to shade their eyes.
“I need to know what you’re going to do with him,” insisted Parker, advancing slowly on the brothers.
“We’re going to take him to a nice farm in the country where he can live happily ever after, frolicking in the sunlight,” said Dean.
“Really?” asked Parker, her body momentarily relaxing.
Sam shook his head. “No, Parker, not really. This guy’s not just ugly, he’s dangerous and we have to.... terminate this problem before it gets really out of hand.”
“Those books say he’s harmless,” said Parker as Eliot joined her. They were both standing near the brothers now and Eliot could just about see into the cage. The stench was nearly overwhelming, but he couldn’t make out much of the huddled mass beyond the thick metal bars. All he could see was a flash of denim and some lumps with bristly hair sticking out of them.
“We don’t know that for certain. He’s fae and they have powerful magic,” replied Sam.
“Well, I don’t think that he dangerous,” said Parker. “I want you to leave now.”
“All due respect, honey, this isn’t really your call. We wouldn’t tell you how to steal from an art museum - you don’t tell us how to dispose of a monster,” said Dean, his voice edging into the tone that Eliot had always called ‘testy’.
Eliot knew he had about 30 seconds to defuse the situation before it got ugly. “All right, look, guys, can I talk to you outside for a minute?”
“You want us to leave her, alone and unarmed, in here with this thing? After we spent all night trying to catch it?” asked Sam.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m asking,” said Eliot, although his tone made it clear that it wasn’t a request at all.
Dean sighed and held up his hands in surrender. “For the record, it’s a bad idea.”
“I’ll take full responsibility for it. And like you’ve never had a bad idea,” said Eliot as he herded the reluctant brothers out of the warehouse.
---//---
Outside, a streak of pink on the horizon announced that dawn was imminent, but it was still dark out. In the dim exterior lights, Eliot could barely see the brothers’ faces, but he could see enough to know that Sam was pissed off and Dean was exhausted and annoyed.
“I just don’t understand why you dragged us all the way here because your friend’s in danger and then you leave her alone with that danger,” said Sam, taking a step closer to Eliot so that he was looming over him.
Eliot resisted the urge to push Sam away. “And I don’t understand why you didn’t tell us the thing is essentially harmless.”
“Because I don’t know that it is. Books can be wrong, you know,” Sam ran a hand through his hair and looked like he was going to say more, but then he shook his head. “No, you know what, good luck. This is your problem now.”
Eliot and Dean watched in silence as Sam stomped over to the Impala and got into the passenger side.
“Sorry, man, he gets cranky when he doesn’t get his beaty sleep,” said Dean, managing a sheepish grin.
“No problem. I guess you’re headed off now.”
“You know what, let’s let Sammy have a little nap. Cool off for a bit. We can watch the monitor and make sure Parker’s safe.”
Eliot led the way over to the truck, even though it was the last place he wanted to be at the moment. His back muscles protested as he settled into the seat. The atmosphere in the truck was comfortable. They could’ve just been two old friends watching television, except that they were in the cab of a pick-up truck watching a flickering image of Parker pushing cereal through the cage bars to the creature.
“Hey man, thanks for coming. I’d say we’re even now,” said Eliot.
Dean snorted. “Honestly, this little side trip has been a vacation as far as I’m concerned. I’m lucky this one isn’t going down on my side of the balance sheet or I might never be able to pay you back.”
“Trouble in Winchesterland?”
“When isn’t there? Only difference now is that there’s a freaking blue light special on trouble. The worst kind of trouble,” said Dean, a bitter edge to his voice as his eyes shifted subtly from the monitor to the Impala. Eliot could just about see Sam’s hulking shape inside the car.
“Sam seems... a little different?”
“Yeah, and that Bugul Noz seems a little ugly,” replied Dean, pressing his thumb and forefinger into the bridge of his nose.
Eliot managed a small smile but said nothing, waiting for Dean to fill in the blanks.
Instead, Dean sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s nothing I can do but wait it out and hope something changes.”
“Still, must be hard working with someone you can’t fully trust.”
Dean looked up, his eyes fiery. “That’s what always sucked about working with you, Spencer. You always knew the one thing to say to get to a guy the most.”
“Just part of my charm, I guess,” said Eliot. “Calling ‘em like I see ‘em.”
“Yeah, well, you called this one right. Bastard,” replied Dean, no heat to the words and Eliot had to wonder who the epithet was really directed at. “Oh man, what’s she doing?”
They both watched on the monitor as Parker opened the cage and reached out a hand to the creature. It waddled out, looking ridiculously short and squat next to her lithe frame. She smiled down at it and Dean shuddered.
“It really is freaking ugly, isn’t it? Like even a mother-couldn’t-love-it-ugly,” said Dean while Eliot murmured his agreement, his muscles twitching with the impulse to protect Parker.
But they both stayed in the truck, watching as she led it over to the space where it was able to move through the floor. Parker left the video frame for a few seconds, returning with a few boxes of cereal.
“She must like the thing, if she’s giving it cereal. The only thing more important to her than cereal is money,” observed Eliot.
The creature took the cereal, gave a little wave and then slowly sunk through the floor.
“I wish I knew how it did that,” whispered Dean. “That really freaks me out. Moving through concrete like that.”
Eliot and Dean got out of the car and met a bubbly Parker at the warehouse door.
“It was just a big misunderstanding,” she said with a grin. “Buggie didn’t mean to scare anybody.”
“Buggie”, repeated Dean incredulously.
Parker nodded. “It’s going to be fine. We understand each other now. Thanks for your help.”
Dean held out a hand to Parker and shook it. “Eliot’s right, there’s something wrong with you...but maybe in the best possible way.”
He slapped Eliot on the back, took a deep breath, and headed back to the Impala. Eliot turned to Parker.
“You’re going to be okay here, then?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Only...”
“What?”
“I don’t have any milk, since it all went bad just now...”
“Parker, I’m not your driver and fetcher,” grumbled Eliot.
“No, no. I meant, well, there will be driving involved, but no fetching. I was thinking we could go get pancakes at that diner you like.”
Eliot covered his smile with a sigh. “We can do that.”
“I can even drive,” offered Parker. “I know you’re all sore from sitting in the truck all night.”
“No way, not after last time,” replied Eliot as he raced Parker to the truck. At least this time, the monster turned out to be less monstrous than he feared. He could only hope that his, and his team’s, luck in that department continued.