FIC: Retrieval (Leverage/Taken (movie verse) - Eliot/Bryan, Eliot/team - FRM - 1/1)

Apr 08, 2009 11:22


Anyone else see the movie Taken with Liam Neeson and think - yeah Eliot definitely knows Bryan Mills? 
--

Title:  Retrieval
Author:  Sam-Tony
Fandom:  Leverage/Taken
Pairing:  Eliot/Bryan, Eliot/team
Rating:  FRM - slash, violence, poker
--
Disclaimer:  Not mine, no money made.
--
Summary:  You do for family.
--
A/N:  Comment Fic Lonely Prompt - Leverage/Taken, Eliot/Bryan, what you do for family.
--


Retrieval

--

Back in his crappy house in one of the more questionable neighborhoods outside of L.A., Bryan Mills picked up the framed photo of his daughter and finally allowed the tears to fall. The rush of sick fear when Kimmy’s apologetic phone call had turned into a terrified cry for help that had given away to the adrenaline of the hunt had run out long ago, the only thing getting him through the alternating waves of exhaustion and depression that he would never find his baby girl had been the look of joy on her face when running backward through the gate at LAX, excited about her grand new adventure.

--

I love you, daddy.

--

He had managed to hold it together long enough to find her, save her, never giving the bloody swath he had cut through Paris or its possible consequences a second thought. Kimmy - his little girl was all that had mattered…

Wiping his eyes, Bryan pushed back the exhaustion that had not been fully assuaged by the fitful dozing on the flight back to the States, too busy watching his daughter sleep to give in to his body’s demands. But Kim was back home with her mom and Stewart, safe and sound in her pink bedroom and comfortable bed, and he…

Setting the frame on the table, Bryan Mills straightened and grabbed his keys.

He still had one more stop to make.

--

“Hey - hands off m’ beer!” Eliot called over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows at Hardison who had looked to steal his bottle rather than get up and get his own. That was the thing about team poker night with a bunch of thieves - it was never boring.

Taking a deep breath and opening the door, Eliot wasn’t too surprised by the face revealed on the other side; after all, anyone else he knew in L.A. was already in here. “Hello, Bryan.”

--

The man that opened the door looked relaxed, blue eyes open and smiling up at him from where Eliot stood in the doorway. A little bigger, a little older, and a far cry from the suspicious lone wolf Bryan had left naked and sated, tangled in the sheets in that hotel room in Madrid all those years ago.

“Eliot,” he nodded, smiling tiredly. “How are you?”

“I’m good. You, on the other hand look like crap.”

Well there was no denying that, was there?

“Thank you. I must admit, I find myself feeling my age.”

Eliot chuckled, eyes crinkling in the corners with shared sympathy. “Yeah I know the feelin’.”

“I’m sure you do,” he admitted. After all, the only difference between a preventor and a retrieval specialist was the timing. “I -“

Bryan noticed the man favoring them with a mild look from the kitchen immediately, the edge from the last three days automatically spurring him to take in height, weight, physical and facial features even as he saw that Eliot remained relaxed, small smile barely twisting his lips. The retrieval specialist certainly realized he was there and just as certainly didn‘t care.

“Eliot?”

“Old friend,” Eliot tossed over his shoulder, not bothering to turn around. “I’ll be on in a minute.”

A once over from those eyes - sharp despite the obvious half way to drunk - and the nameless man in question - older, maybe mid forties, slender to the point of thin - and he shrugged, “Ok. Parker‘s asking about fortune cookies.”

“In the bread box - there’s leftover Chinese if Hardison didn’t get enough of my enchiladas.”

“Next time make more,“ the man just admonished lightly before ducking back into the kitchen.

“If I’d a known Harrison was a bottomless pit for Mexican, I would have.”

Bryan felt his eyebrows rise slightly at the knowledge that Eliot seemed to have settled down a bit since their last few…escapades. “I see you’re still puttering around in the kitchen. Friend a yours?”

“Yeah, he is,” the younger man just smiled. “Find the place all right?”

So, he hadn’t been mistaken in Paris then. And Eliot had been expecting him.

His eyes narrowed, brought back to what had brought him here in the first place. “Were you dogging me?”

The younger man snorted, stepping back to let him in. He stayed in the hallway. “Course. No job goes that smooth without someone ta muddy your back trail. ‘Specially not one that…personal.”

Damn. There must have been more collateral damage than he had realized. He had just thought - no. He hadn‘t thought. Eliot was right; with as much chaos and destruction as he had been churning out, it was a wonder Jean Claude hadn‘t had the entire bevy of armed services after his trail; or been harder on it himself than he had been. Now he knew why.

“Who called you?”

“Sam. Said you might need some help and he an’ the boys were caught up in another job.” Eliot shrugged. “Clean up’s not that hard, just messy.”

“Eliot - I…don’t know what to say, except…thank you.”

“Ain’t notthin’ you don’t do for family,” Eliot looked at him seriously. “Kimmy, well, Kimmy’s family.”

“Yeah.” Bryan studied his long time friend a moment before nodding. “If there is ever anything you need - anything at all - you call.”

Eliot nodded just as seriously. “I will.”

Suddenly the hard demeanor softened as the older operative smiled. “Right, well…I’ll let you get back to…” he trailed off, realizing he really had no idea *what* the younger man had going on in there.

“Poker game.”

“Ah. Then I will let you get back to your poker game.”

He watched Eliot smile as the younger man thought back on what was, knowing Eliot’s penchant for collecting strays, most probably a ragtag bunch of misfits currently sitting around his kitchen table with bottles of beer and bowls of popcorn. “Yeah.”

“He seems like a good man,” Bryan hesitated. Eliot seemed happy enough and Lord knew the boy deserved it, but Bryan wanted to be sure…he was heartened to see Eliot smile, enjoying the blush that crept up to heat his face.

“He is.”

“Are you happy?” he asked. “Does he make you happy, Eliot?”

Eliot wasn’t exactly his kid - the Lord knew you didn’t sleep with your kids - but they had been lovers once and remained friends despite the distance, and that meant he was as good as family, and Bryan wanted to know he was happy.

“Yeah, I am. And yeah, he does…” Despite the blush, Eliot smirked, his eyebrows raised in amusement as he added pointedly, “They all do.”

Oh. *Oh*. And here he thought he no longer had it in him to take the younger man’s blush and surpass it. Apparently he had been wrong. Still, despite the small squirm of embarrassment, he was glad to see Eliot was no longer alone.

“Good,” he said and meant it. “I’m glad.”

“Yeah.“ The last hard line on the shorter man softened, Eliot smiling softly at the well wishes. “Thanks.”

“Goodbye, Eliot.”

“See ya, Bry.”

The door that shut behind him cut off the loud call demanding to know just “who the hell stole m’ beer!”, and Bryan took a moment to stare at the non-descript cream door, imagining the odd little family beyond it. With a shake of his head and a smile, he turned and made his way to the elevator, pushing the down button as he fished his cell phone out of his pocket.

Waiting on the car to arrive, he dialed a familiar number and listened to the two short rings before it was answered on the other end.

“Sam? I want in…”

--

Shaking his head as he shut the door, Eliot turned back to the people no doubt just waiting to tear into him the moment he stepped through the kitchen, and yelled, just because he *knew* Hardison had used Bryan’s unexpected visit to drain his bottle, “Who the Hell stole m’ beer!”

Chuckling evilly as he rounded the corner to Hardison tripping over his own chair in his haste to put Sophie between them, Eliot put on his best pissed off glare and jerked open the stainless steel door to his fridge, snickering at the smack Parker landed on the hacker’s arm.

“Old friend?” Nate asked mildly.

Reclaiming his chair, Eliot gathered up the cards for a fresh deal and cast the older man a sideways glance. “Yeah.”

“That where you were the last few days?”

“Yeup.”

“Retrieval?”

“Nah - clean up,” Eliot told him. Tossing out the cards around the table he took a sip of his newly opened bottle, knowing from the slight wince on Nate’s face that the former investigator knew what that simple explanation would entail - just as he knew from the blank but interested faces of the others that they didn’t.

Nate favored him with a mildly sympathetic look as he picked up his cards. “Messy.”

Eliot could more than agree with that. “Yeah.” Twitching his own cards into place, Eliot peered over the edges of the white cardboard and speared Harrison a glare as the larger man slipped into his seat. “You planning on playin’ sometime tonight, momma’s boy or all you gonna do is steal m’ beer?”

Eliot snickered in satisfaction as the hacker fumbled with his cards, much to the others amusement. After all, like his recent foray in Paris, poker was all about misdirection…

End

frm, fic, eliot/bryan, eliot/team, slash

Previous post Next post
Up
[]