(no subject)
Title: Hello. Goodbye.
Author: kitiaria
Fandom: Leverage/Supernatural
Characters: Eliot, Parker, Hardison, Dean Winchester.
Word Count: 1,093.
Disclaimer: Not mine. *Sob*.
AN: This is my first Leverage fic, so please be gentle. Nevertheless, tell me if you think the characters are all wrong. *Hopes not*
Hello. Goodbye.
Prologue.
"Parker," Eliot barked, "We are not. I repeat, we are not going to rob a bank just because you're bored! Nate agreed that we should have some downtime to rest up before-"
"Eliot," She whined in cutting him off midsentence, "downtime's boring!" She slammed her palm down on the bar counter, smashing the bar's complimentary peanuts as if to illustrate her point. "What else am I supposed to do, huh? Sit around eating peanuts and pretzels for two weeks? I'm a thief. I thieve. End of story-"
"Parker!"
"-And asking me not to steal is like...asking you not to punch people or asking Hardison not to play on World of Warcraft or something." She folded her arms and nodded, looking immensely pleased with her irrefutable logic.
"Hardison," Eliot, growled shoving the younger man, "For pity's sake talk some sense into her or something,"
"Hey, don't look at me man," The hacker responded not looking up from his phone, "I'm not touching this one. If stopping Parker from stealing some priceless ancient artifacts is gonna stop me from my weekly World o' Warcraft marathon then hell, Parker can steal the frickin Lourve if she wants. Ain't my business."
"Yes!" Parker crowed.
"No! Not helpin' man." Eliot growled, holding his beer bottle against his head. All this scheming was making his brain hurt. Was it too much to ask for a little peace and quiet, although why Eliot thought he was going to get any semblance of peace and quiet in a bar was questionable to say the least.
He swigged the last of his beer and motioned for the bartender. He was just about to order a double whiskey to steel himself for the next round of what Eliot liked to call "The stop-Parker-from-stealing-the-world-and-subsequently-killing-all-of-Eliot's-patience Job", when he heard that all too familiar drawl from across the bar.
"Spencer!" The voice yelled and Eliot stiffened, mouth open, words stuck in his throat.
Parker being Parker noticed.
Shit. Eliot thought. Fuck. Shitfuck. What the hell was-
"Eliot, what-" She began but stuttered to a halt when she saw the thunderous expression on his face. She nudged Hardison as if for backup as he slammed a fist down on the counter, rattling the crushed peanuts and empty beer bottles.
Eliot heard a startled "huh?" as he swivelled on his stool and stood up to glare into the crowd.
"Spencer!" the voice came again and Eliot growled as he came into view.
"Winchester." He spat. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Eliot, man who-" Hardison began, but like Parker fumbled to a stop when Eliot stepped forward and shoved the other man.
"Going by Eliot still, huh?" He drawled, smirking, seemingly unfazed by Eliot's shove and Eliot wanted to punch him in the face. He watched as the man unfolded his arms, and jerked his chin as if to say, come on then, boy. The punch Winchester aimed at his nose Eliot dodged with ease, but the second one aimed for his jaw, connected and sent Eliot sprawling against the bar and Hardison.
Hardison spluttered, yelling something that Eliot couldn't understand through the haze of red that had fallen over him, grinned and said: "You really wanna start something with me? Now, boy?"
"Fuck you, Spencer. It's high time someone kicked your ass for a change!" He retorted, green eyes narrowed, lips quirked to the side in a half smirk.
Eliot smirked back, stepping forwards and shaking off the restraining hands of Parker and Hardison, and pulled his fists up, "Come on then."
"Eliot man! Wait, what the hell are ya doing?"
"Sparky!"
"Yeah, come on 'Sparky'," Winchester laughed, pulling his jacket off, "Or have you gone soft since the last time I saw you? Can't take out, lil ol' me?" He fluttered his eyelashes and pouted his lips.
"Fuck you." Eliot growled and lunged. Eliot's fist connected high on Winchester's cheekbone, and the younger man laughed.
"Don't hold back on my account, Sparkers!"
Eliot smiled, quirked an eyebrow and nodded.
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Parker frowned as Eliot took another punch to the face and blood began to drip from his nose. She nudged Hardison with her elbow and whispered, "Do something."
"What?" Hardison's face twisted in horror, "What am I supposed to do?"
"Grab the other guy from behind. Look, look, see he's turning away from us now. Grab him."
She shoved Hardison towards the pair and he stumbled, muttering under his breath. He ducked and swore when a fist came a little too close to his face, glaring at Parker who simply nodded encouragingly. Hardison took at deep breath, reaching for all the hand-to-hand combat training Eliot had managed to drill into him and waited for his opportunity. It came in the form of a punch to the ribs.
Eliot's fist whipped out, lightening fast and jabbed the other man in the side and he stumbled backwards, right into Hardison's waiting arms. He wrapped his arm around the throat of the other man, pulling tightly, to incapacitate him.
"Ah, come on now." The guy groaned, "You gonna get your team to hold me down? Not cool man."
"Hardison, dammit! Let him go!" Eliot growled.
"Didn't realise you two were a tag team, I woulda brought Sammy then." The man choked out.
"I'm tryin' to help you man!" Hardison sputtered, squeezing tighter, revelling in the gasps of the other man. "Puttin' myself in harm's way. You see if I ever try to help you again man."
"Hardison!" Eliot said again, stalking forwards and grabbing his arm that was wrapped around Winchester's throat. "Christ, let him go man. He's a friend."
"What?" Hardison yelled, loosening his death grip. "Then why the hell are ya'll beating on each other likes there's no tomorrow?"
"Dude," the guy said, rubbing his throat and eying him like he was a lunatic. "It's how we say hello."
"And you call me crazy Sparky," Parker said, still eyeing the taller man with distrust as he motioned for the bartender.
"Can I get a whiskey?" He said, before turning back to Eliot and saying with a grin, "Aren't you going to introduce me, Sparkles."
Christ, Eliot thought, he hasn't changed a bit. "Hardison, Parker, this is my good friend Dean Winchester."
-TBC-
Author: kitiaria
Fandom: Leverage/Supernatural
Characters: Eliot, Parker, Hardison, Dean Winchester.
Word Count: 1,093.
Disclaimer: Not mine. *Sob*.
AN: This is my first Leverage fic, so please be gentle. Nevertheless, tell me if you think the characters are all wrong. *Hopes not*
Hello. Goodbye.
Prologue.
"Parker," Eliot barked, "We are not. I repeat, we are not going to rob a bank just because you're bored! Nate agreed that we should have some downtime to rest up before-"
"Eliot," She whined in cutting him off midsentence, "downtime's boring!" She slammed her palm down on the bar counter, smashing the bar's complimentary peanuts as if to illustrate her point. "What else am I supposed to do, huh? Sit around eating peanuts and pretzels for two weeks? I'm a thief. I thieve. End of story-"
"Parker!"
"-And asking me not to steal is like...asking you not to punch people or asking Hardison not to play on World of Warcraft or something." She folded her arms and nodded, looking immensely pleased with her irrefutable logic.
"Hardison," Eliot, growled shoving the younger man, "For pity's sake talk some sense into her or something,"
"Hey, don't look at me man," The hacker responded not looking up from his phone, "I'm not touching this one. If stopping Parker from stealing some priceless ancient artifacts is gonna stop me from my weekly World o' Warcraft marathon then hell, Parker can steal the frickin Lourve if she wants. Ain't my business."
"Yes!" Parker crowed.
"No! Not helpin' man." Eliot growled, holding his beer bottle against his head. All this scheming was making his brain hurt. Was it too much to ask for a little peace and quiet, although why Eliot thought he was going to get any semblance of peace and quiet in a bar was questionable to say the least.
He swigged the last of his beer and motioned for the bartender. He was just about to order a double whiskey to steel himself for the next round of what Eliot liked to call "The stop-Parker-from-stealing-the-world-and-subsequently-killing-all-of-Eliot's-patience Job", when he heard that all too familiar drawl from across the bar.
"Spencer!" The voice yelled and Eliot stiffened, mouth open, words stuck in his throat.
Parker being Parker noticed.
Shit. Eliot thought. Fuck. Shitfuck. What the hell was-
"Eliot, what-" She began but stuttered to a halt when she saw the thunderous expression on his face. She nudged Hardison as if for backup as he slammed a fist down on the counter, rattling the crushed peanuts and empty beer bottles.
Eliot heard a startled "huh?" as he swivelled on his stool and stood up to glare into the crowd.
"Spencer!" the voice came again and Eliot growled as he came into view.
"Winchester." He spat. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Eliot, man who-" Hardison began, but like Parker fumbled to a stop when Eliot stepped forward and shoved the other man.
"Going by Eliot still, huh?" He drawled, smirking, seemingly unfazed by Eliot's shove and Eliot wanted to punch him in the face. He watched as the man unfolded his arms, and jerked his chin as if to say, come on then, boy. The punch Winchester aimed at his nose Eliot dodged with ease, but the second one aimed for his jaw, connected and sent Eliot sprawling against the bar and Hardison.
Hardison spluttered, yelling something that Eliot couldn't understand through the haze of red that had fallen over him, grinned and said: "You really wanna start something with me? Now, boy?"
"Fuck you, Spencer. It's high time someone kicked your ass for a change!" He retorted, green eyes narrowed, lips quirked to the side in a half smirk.
Eliot smirked back, stepping forwards and shaking off the restraining hands of Parker and Hardison, and pulled his fists up, "Come on then."
"Eliot man! Wait, what the hell are ya doing?"
"Sparky!"
"Yeah, come on 'Sparky'," Winchester laughed, pulling his jacket off, "Or have you gone soft since the last time I saw you? Can't take out, lil ol' me?" He fluttered his eyelashes and pouted his lips.
"Fuck you." Eliot growled and lunged. Eliot's fist connected high on Winchester's cheekbone, and the younger man laughed.
"Don't hold back on my account, Sparkers!"
Eliot smiled, quirked an eyebrow and nodded.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Parker frowned as Eliot took another punch to the face and blood began to drip from his nose. She nudged Hardison with her elbow and whispered, "Do something."
"What?" Hardison's face twisted in horror, "What am I supposed to do?"
"Grab the other guy from behind. Look, look, see he's turning away from us now. Grab him."
She shoved Hardison towards the pair and he stumbled, muttering under his breath. He ducked and swore when a fist came a little too close to his face, glaring at Parker who simply nodded encouragingly. Hardison took at deep breath, reaching for all the hand-to-hand combat training Eliot had managed to drill into him and waited for his opportunity. It came in the form of a punch to the ribs.
Eliot's fist whipped out, lightening fast and jabbed the other man in the side and he stumbled backwards, right into Hardison's waiting arms. He wrapped his arm around the throat of the other man, pulling tightly, to incapacitate him.
"Ah, come on now." The guy groaned, "You gonna get your team to hold me down? Not cool man."
"Hardison, dammit! Let him go!" Eliot growled.
"Didn't realise you two were a tag team, I woulda brought Sammy then." The man choked out.
"I'm tryin' to help you man!" Hardison sputtered, squeezing tighter, revelling in the gasps of the other man. "Puttin' myself in harm's way. You see if I ever try to help you again man."
"Hardison!" Eliot said again, stalking forwards and grabbing his arm that was wrapped around Winchester's throat. "Christ, let him go man. He's a friend."
"What?" Hardison yelled, loosening his death grip. "Then why the hell are ya'll beating on each other likes there's no tomorrow?"
"Dude," the guy said, rubbing his throat and eying him like he was a lunatic. "It's how we say hello."
"And you call me crazy Sparky," Parker said, still eyeing the taller man with distrust as he motioned for the bartender.
"Can I get a whiskey?" He said, before turning back to Eliot and saying with a grin, "Aren't you going to introduce me, Sparkles."
Christ, Eliot thought, he hasn't changed a bit. "Hardison, Parker, this is my good friend Dean Winchester."
-TBC-