Mod Gift for Samantha_Kathy - 2014 Leverage Secret Santa Exchange
Title: From the Shadows (Things Become Clear)
Author: telaryn
Mod gift for: samantha_kathy
Rating: R
Characters/Pairing: Parker, Eliot, Eliot/OMC
Word Count: 1739
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: There is a lot of Parker's internal monologue at work - one random thought is her memory of a homophobic foster father, another is memory of abuse.
Disclaimer: Only own the effort involved.
Summary: Parker tails Eliot through an average week of downtime, and learns more than she bargains for.
Author's Note: For all that Parker is not my go-to character, occasionally it is fun to crawl inside her head and see the world through her eyes - especially when you have the kind of awesome props samantha_kathy delivered!
samantha_kathy, a handful of your prompts went into this fic: Eliot as the hitter with a heart of gold, Outsider POV, and coming out to the team fic. I hope you enjoy the result, and we're so glad you were able to play with us!
She watches him, well, pretty much all the time. Somebody has to - they all worry about Eliot a lot, but like Nate says: chaining him to their sides 24/7 isn’t the way to deal with it.
Only he uses more words. And sounds smarter when he says it.
…he always sounds smarter… One of these days she just knows she’s going to be able to give somebody a nosebleed with the power of her mind. She has a good mind - Nate and Sophie both say so - and besides, giving somebody a nosebleed with the power of your mind is really cool in that totally scary kind of way.
She likes scary. …but not zombies…
…not zombies. Scary, not gross...
…zombies are gross…
So she watches him. And she learns more than she ever thought she’d know about anybody.
…or want to know…
Hardison says that Eliot’s a ‘creature of habit’. Of course Hardison is sick right now - they’re pretty sure it’s a really bad flu, but Nate’s starting to talk about taking him to a doctor if his fever doesn’t break soon. It scares her …in the bad way… when Nate talks like that because he knows what she knows - that people sometimes go to the doctor and they don’t ever come home.
Right now they’re all taking turns watching Hardison and making sure he has everything he needs to get better. She’s not allowed to cook for him or feed him, but she visits him every day and he’s always smiling when she leaves, so she supposes she’s helping.
She is surprised to discover that Eliot takes more than his share of turns. He spends all his time when they’re together complaining about having to play nursemaid, so Nate tells her not to push him. They’ll just ‘pick up the slack’.
…doesn’t tell her not to punch him though… And she thinks about that, a LOT. She’s pretty sure she could land a good hit on Eliot, like she’s pretty sure he won’t hit her back. …never hit a lady, right… Families do for each other - they’re not supposed to complain about it when Hardison didn’t mean to get sick in the first place.
Which is why it surprises her so much when Eliot takes the turn to Hardison’s apartment one night. It’s not his turn. It’s nobody’s turn - they don’t waste resources being there when Hardison is supposed to be sleeping.
Eliot shows her in one night just how much good you can do when a person is sleeping. He cleans the kitchen - Nate is better than Sophie about doing the dishes, but not by much. …that half-melted ice cream in the sink, that’s on me… He gets out pans and ingredients and cooks things that go into little containers in the freezer. Laundry is washed, dried, folded and put away. He dusts the entire apartment and even remembers to refill the steamy thing by Hardison’s bed before he goes.
Tuesday she follows him to a hospital filled with soldiers. Being there is like having a million insects crawling on her skin all at once - sick and dying and so much pain she feels like she’s going to suffocate under the weight of it. Eliot walks through the devastation with purpose. If you didn’t know him like she does, you would think the suffering doesn’t touch him.
…fingers flexing…
…wants to hit something, but he knows he can’t…
The person he’s there to see is sleeping when he sits down in the chair by the bed, but Eliot talks to him just like he’s awake and normal. It hurts watching him, hearing the bright cheerful tone and seeing how the smile in his voice never reaches his eyes.
After about twenty minutes he takes out a book and begins to read. Things get easier then - she doesn’t recognize the story, but the words obviously mean a lot to Eliot. His shoulders relax and the anger leaves his eyes, as he weaves magic with his voice and someone else’s words. He would tell her it’s not magic, but she knows real magic when she sees it.
Thursday afternoon is strange. She tails him to a youth center - boys and girls playing basketball, talking, jumping rope outside, arts and crafts and lots of studying inside. …you’re not going to ruin our Christmas by putting that piece of crap on our tree… There’s a martial arts class going on in one of the rooms and she isn’t surprised when he stops there.
…teach them how to be safe… It’s a desire she can understand, but it turns out not to be one Eliot shares. He speaks with the instructor for a moment, and then a small-ish boy - maybe nine, maybe ten - bows and steps up to stand next to Eliot. More words that she can’t hear, and then Eliot leaves the room with the child at his heels.
She follows them to the kitchen, listens to them talk, recognizes immediately what the boy doesn’t say. …if you tell anyone what happened, I swear to God… Eliot is patient and slow with the child, letting him set the rules for what will and won’t be said. After cookies and milk, he brings out ingredients from the pantry - quizzing the child on each one, what it means, what it does, what it’s most often used for. Every right answer makes Eliot’s smile grow wider and more real. She likes this smile - it’s one she’s pretty sure none of them have ever seen before.
None of them are a small boy though, who needs Eliot in the way only a small, lonely boy can.
Saturday morning is a briefing, which is just mean - especially when Hardison insists on running everything from his sick bed. Sophie says it goes as well as could be expected. Eliot says that if Nate had enough balls to tell Hardison ‘no’, it would have gone much better.
Nate says nothing, but she knows he heard. She wonders if she should remind Eliot to be on the lookout for telepathic nosebleeds in his future.
…more fun if he’s surprised, really…
She watches him through his bedroom window Saturday night. Date night - something important anyway, based on his selection of clothes and the amount of time he takes getting ready. She hopes it’s a date night - those are the nights he watches for her, chases her off before she can learn anything to tell the others. They’re two and two on this game going into tonight; it’s becoming more and more of a challenge to keep out of his range so she can see everything he does.
Her favorite part on the nights she wins is that she gets to watch the sex stuff happen. He thinks she doesn’t stick around for that, but she likes watching how Eliot behaves with the women he brings home. Gentle or physical - different women like different things - and she can tell Eliot likes to make his partners happy. …little slut - stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about… It fixes something in her heart to know that sex can be like the songs Sophie listens to.
“Not tonight, Parker.”
He’s on the roof she picked out so she could keep pace with him without being seen. …how did he get on the roof?... He doesn’t have his mad face on, but this is almost worse. This is serious, ‘playtime-is-over’ face.
She really doesn’t like that face. “Why not?” she asks, trying not to whine. They joke about Nate and Sophie being their parents, but nobody can make her feel like a child faster than Eliot can. “You don’t date women who know when they’re being followed.”
“I know,” he says, and she can see the red creeping across his skin. “And not tonight - this guy is too important to me for you to mess it…”
He realizes too late that he’s said something he didn’t mean to, and the mistake makes him even angrier. “Then we should meet him,” she says hastily. …dammit, Parker!... “That’s what you do with dates who are ‘too important’, right? You bring them home to meet your family.”
“Parker, didn’t you hear what I said?”
Confused now, she nods. “You said you have a date with somebody who is ‘too important’. I think you said something you didn’t want to, but I understand being nervous about important dates.” She paused. “Is there something wrong with him? He’s not a police officer, is he? Or some kind of government agent?”
...still missing something…
“Parker, he’s a man. I’m dating a man.”
Understanding finally blossoms in her mind. One of her foster fathers was always going on about men who dated other men …fucking queers ruin everything… and she’d never understood why he cared so much. “He’s a nice man though, right? He treats you good?”
She knows that look very well. …there’s something WRONG with you… “He’s very nice, yes,” Eliot says carefully. “And so far we treat each other fine.”
“Why can’t I meet him then?”
He’s smiling now, and she wonders for a moment if that means she’s won, but then he says, “I need to prepare him for meeting everybody. Think about what Sunday dinners are like, Parker.” He pauses for emphasis. “Now put a nice, normal guy in the middle of that.”
“Ouch.” She tries running a few scenarios using those parameters - the best outcome involves only one of them going to the hospital. “Maybe just introduce him to Sophie first?”
That gets her a laugh, and she begins to think losing tonight might not be so horrible. “Tell you what,” Eliot says finally. “Not tomorrow, but next Sunday - I’ll invite him then and he can meet everybody.”
It’s a good plan. “Hardison should be over his virus by then,” she reminds Eliot, who can’t help rolling his eyes at the news. “Should I tell them?” she asks after a moment. “Or is this one of those things where you should tell them?”
“I’ll talk to Nate in the morning,” he says. “Go from there.” He motions her closer, and now she goes without hesitation - this close his eyes are a dark, pretty blue and really intense. She likes looking at them from this distance; it makes her shiver.
His hands are warm as he cradles her face between his palms. “Thanks, Parker.” Leaning forward, he kisses her on the forehead. “For everything.”
Author: telaryn
Mod gift for: samantha_kathy
Rating: R
Characters/Pairing: Parker, Eliot, Eliot/OMC
Word Count: 1739
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: There is a lot of Parker's internal monologue at work - one random thought is her memory of a homophobic foster father, another is memory of abuse.
Disclaimer: Only own the effort involved.
Summary: Parker tails Eliot through an average week of downtime, and learns more than she bargains for.
Author's Note: For all that Parker is not my go-to character, occasionally it is fun to crawl inside her head and see the world through her eyes - especially when you have the kind of awesome props samantha_kathy delivered!
samantha_kathy, a handful of your prompts went into this fic: Eliot as the hitter with a heart of gold, Outsider POV, and coming out to the team fic. I hope you enjoy the result, and we're so glad you were able to play with us!
She watches him, well, pretty much all the time. Somebody has to - they all worry about Eliot a lot, but like Nate says: chaining him to their sides 24/7 isn’t the way to deal with it.
Only he uses more words. And sounds smarter when he says it.
…he always sounds smarter… One of these days she just knows she’s going to be able to give somebody a nosebleed with the power of her mind. She has a good mind - Nate and Sophie both say so - and besides, giving somebody a nosebleed with the power of your mind is really cool in that totally scary kind of way.
She likes scary. …but not zombies…
…not zombies. Scary, not gross...
…zombies are gross…
So she watches him. And she learns more than she ever thought she’d know about anybody.
…or want to know…
Hardison says that Eliot’s a ‘creature of habit’. Of course Hardison is sick right now - they’re pretty sure it’s a really bad flu, but Nate’s starting to talk about taking him to a doctor if his fever doesn’t break soon. It scares her …in the bad way… when Nate talks like that because he knows what she knows - that people sometimes go to the doctor and they don’t ever come home.
Right now they’re all taking turns watching Hardison and making sure he has everything he needs to get better. She’s not allowed to cook for him or feed him, but she visits him every day and he’s always smiling when she leaves, so she supposes she’s helping.
She is surprised to discover that Eliot takes more than his share of turns. He spends all his time when they’re together complaining about having to play nursemaid, so Nate tells her not to push him. They’ll just ‘pick up the slack’.
…doesn’t tell her not to punch him though… And she thinks about that, a LOT. She’s pretty sure she could land a good hit on Eliot, like she’s pretty sure he won’t hit her back. …never hit a lady, right… Families do for each other - they’re not supposed to complain about it when Hardison didn’t mean to get sick in the first place.
Which is why it surprises her so much when Eliot takes the turn to Hardison’s apartment one night. It’s not his turn. It’s nobody’s turn - they don’t waste resources being there when Hardison is supposed to be sleeping.
Eliot shows her in one night just how much good you can do when a person is sleeping. He cleans the kitchen - Nate is better than Sophie about doing the dishes, but not by much. …that half-melted ice cream in the sink, that’s on me… He gets out pans and ingredients and cooks things that go into little containers in the freezer. Laundry is washed, dried, folded and put away. He dusts the entire apartment and even remembers to refill the steamy thing by Hardison’s bed before he goes.
Tuesday she follows him to a hospital filled with soldiers. Being there is like having a million insects crawling on her skin all at once - sick and dying and so much pain she feels like she’s going to suffocate under the weight of it. Eliot walks through the devastation with purpose. If you didn’t know him like she does, you would think the suffering doesn’t touch him.
…fingers flexing…
…wants to hit something, but he knows he can’t…
The person he’s there to see is sleeping when he sits down in the chair by the bed, but Eliot talks to him just like he’s awake and normal. It hurts watching him, hearing the bright cheerful tone and seeing how the smile in his voice never reaches his eyes.
After about twenty minutes he takes out a book and begins to read. Things get easier then - she doesn’t recognize the story, but the words obviously mean a lot to Eliot. His shoulders relax and the anger leaves his eyes, as he weaves magic with his voice and someone else’s words. He would tell her it’s not magic, but she knows real magic when she sees it.
Thursday afternoon is strange. She tails him to a youth center - boys and girls playing basketball, talking, jumping rope outside, arts and crafts and lots of studying inside. …you’re not going to ruin our Christmas by putting that piece of crap on our tree… There’s a martial arts class going on in one of the rooms and she isn’t surprised when he stops there.
…teach them how to be safe… It’s a desire she can understand, but it turns out not to be one Eliot shares. He speaks with the instructor for a moment, and then a small-ish boy - maybe nine, maybe ten - bows and steps up to stand next to Eliot. More words that she can’t hear, and then Eliot leaves the room with the child at his heels.
She follows them to the kitchen, listens to them talk, recognizes immediately what the boy doesn’t say. …if you tell anyone what happened, I swear to God… Eliot is patient and slow with the child, letting him set the rules for what will and won’t be said. After cookies and milk, he brings out ingredients from the pantry - quizzing the child on each one, what it means, what it does, what it’s most often used for. Every right answer makes Eliot’s smile grow wider and more real. She likes this smile - it’s one she’s pretty sure none of them have ever seen before.
None of them are a small boy though, who needs Eliot in the way only a small, lonely boy can.
Saturday morning is a briefing, which is just mean - especially when Hardison insists on running everything from his sick bed. Sophie says it goes as well as could be expected. Eliot says that if Nate had enough balls to tell Hardison ‘no’, it would have gone much better.
Nate says nothing, but she knows he heard. She wonders if she should remind Eliot to be on the lookout for telepathic nosebleeds in his future.
…more fun if he’s surprised, really…
She watches him through his bedroom window Saturday night. Date night - something important anyway, based on his selection of clothes and the amount of time he takes getting ready. She hopes it’s a date night - those are the nights he watches for her, chases her off before she can learn anything to tell the others. They’re two and two on this game going into tonight; it’s becoming more and more of a challenge to keep out of his range so she can see everything he does.
Her favorite part on the nights she wins is that she gets to watch the sex stuff happen. He thinks she doesn’t stick around for that, but she likes watching how Eliot behaves with the women he brings home. Gentle or physical - different women like different things - and she can tell Eliot likes to make his partners happy. …little slut - stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about… It fixes something in her heart to know that sex can be like the songs Sophie listens to.
“Not tonight, Parker.”
He’s on the roof she picked out so she could keep pace with him without being seen. …how did he get on the roof?... He doesn’t have his mad face on, but this is almost worse. This is serious, ‘playtime-is-over’ face.
She really doesn’t like that face. “Why not?” she asks, trying not to whine. They joke about Nate and Sophie being their parents, but nobody can make her feel like a child faster than Eliot can. “You don’t date women who know when they’re being followed.”
“I know,” he says, and she can see the red creeping across his skin. “And not tonight - this guy is too important to me for you to mess it…”
He realizes too late that he’s said something he didn’t mean to, and the mistake makes him even angrier. “Then we should meet him,” she says hastily. …dammit, Parker!... “That’s what you do with dates who are ‘too important’, right? You bring them home to meet your family.”
“Parker, didn’t you hear what I said?”
Confused now, she nods. “You said you have a date with somebody who is ‘too important’. I think you said something you didn’t want to, but I understand being nervous about important dates.” She paused. “Is there something wrong with him? He’s not a police officer, is he? Or some kind of government agent?”
...still missing something…
“Parker, he’s a man. I’m dating a man.”
Understanding finally blossoms in her mind. One of her foster fathers was always going on about men who dated other men …fucking queers ruin everything… and she’d never understood why he cared so much. “He’s a nice man though, right? He treats you good?”
She knows that look very well. …there’s something WRONG with you… “He’s very nice, yes,” Eliot says carefully. “And so far we treat each other fine.”
“Why can’t I meet him then?”
He’s smiling now, and she wonders for a moment if that means she’s won, but then he says, “I need to prepare him for meeting everybody. Think about what Sunday dinners are like, Parker.” He pauses for emphasis. “Now put a nice, normal guy in the middle of that.”
“Ouch.” She tries running a few scenarios using those parameters - the best outcome involves only one of them going to the hospital. “Maybe just introduce him to Sophie first?”
That gets her a laugh, and she begins to think losing tonight might not be so horrible. “Tell you what,” Eliot says finally. “Not tomorrow, but next Sunday - I’ll invite him then and he can meet everybody.”
It’s a good plan. “Hardison should be over his virus by then,” she reminds Eliot, who can’t help rolling his eyes at the news. “Should I tell them?” she asks after a moment. “Or is this one of those things where you should tell them?”
“I’ll talk to Nate in the morning,” he says. “Go from there.” He motions her closer, and now she goes without hesitation - this close his eyes are a dark, pretty blue and really intense. She likes looking at them from this distance; it makes her shiver.
His hands are warm as he cradles her face between his palms. “Thanks, Parker.” Leaning forward, he kisses her on the forehead. “For everything.”