Fic Post From Leverageland
Fic: Looked After
From Scout_lovers prompt: Bunny still has reservations about these people (but at least they make his Parker happy)
When his Parker first told him about this job - working with other people, (dangerous dangerous shouldn't do that too many variables people are squirly) - he'd been wary. It was his job to be wary, to be the voice of reason. It was Ford that worried him most, though Parker got a sparkle in her eye like meeting a safe she'd never known for the first time. (he's gonna catch me, smart and fast and happy joy fun) Ford who chased and harried and once - just once - had picked up Bunny in his (Father hold and cuddle, gun calloused but gentle in the crook of his) hands and taken him all the way to the Police Station before Parker had chanced a daring rescue. Bunny didn't like it. Parker liked it a lot. But then that's why he was the voice of reason.
He still had his reservations three years later, even though he's met them all now, and listened to all of Parker's stories and all of her "He shouted and his face went all red and he told me I was never to do that again" (sounds like 'they're looking after me'). Even though Sophie (not Sophie, but we've got to remember, in front of Nate) had held him in delicate hands (with callouses that don't fit) and they had worried about her with him.
The thing is, she's happy (jumping flying freedom and pretzles) and it shows in the way she needs to hold him less. She's leaving him behind, but he can't find it in himself to be annoyed. He's reserving the right to still be the voice of reason though. (I need to tell you. I need to say) He doesn't think she's going to get much reason out of those pretzles she keeps staring at.
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Fic: Keep Running
Word Count: 271
Warnings (if any): Domestic violence, possible (sub-)canon inaccuracies
He dreams about a time where it's easy to turn around and fight. Where his first instinct isn't always to run and find a bolt hole to hide in where no one will ever find him and he'll be safe. He likes feeling safe. (How'd I raise such a sissy, huh? Git yourself back in that ring, boy).
He's never felt safe in his own home and so he dreams about being somewhere else. Being someone else. Someone who'll turn around and defend himself. Sometimes (when he's cornered and he can't run, and God, there's so many of them) he fools himself into thinking he's brave enough to do this.
His daddy's mocking him from a distance. He always was the running kind.
He's strong enough (God-damn boy, don't act like you did it all yourself) now that he can be cornered like that and he can walk away. Or at least last until they stop, their chain pulled taught by their Master. They would have ripped him to pieces eventually. (He wants to crawl over and thank the guy on his knees, but his daddy's voice straightens his spine).
His boss ain't the kinda guy you say no to, but then this guy don't seem like that kinda guy either. In his mind he's running from pillar to post and not once does it occur to him to put his fists in until someone asks him to step into the ring. (He never raised a hand to his daddy either, though hell, he woulda liked to more'n once.)
He's far from his daddy's grave now, and even further from the reach of his fist, but Kid Jones'll keeps running 'til he don't have to fight no more.
-
Fic: Wake Up
Word Count: 304
Warnings (if any): Incidental Nate/Eliot pairing. Can be ignored if you don't like slash. "A Softer World" reference - 656?
He wasn't sure exactly how far he had walked. There was a ruined Jeep on the road behind him and no other way but onwards by foot. Parker's voice in his ear was still trying to coax the others awake, voice sharp and good to keep him grounded through the exhaustion. If she could get them awake by the time he got to them he might have some chance of getting them all out of this alive.
The facility appeared in the distance, surrounded by tree cover and, as he neared, peppered with armed guards. He knew the others were unconscious inside, there wasn't any other choice now. Hardison's voice took over from Parker's, blathering on about something or other. It was good to hear, reassuring. Comforting. He blocked out the sounds of Parker and Alec trying to wake Sophie and Nate, clenched his fists and focused himself.
He crashed through the front door, blood on his clothes and in his eyes. He hurt - God he hurt - all over, but he was still moving and now Sophie's voice was there in his ear, guiding and still gently trying to coax Nate awake. He forced himself onwards. He was getting closer to Sophie's voice now, achingly close. He couldn't give in to exhaustion and pain now. Another group of guards rounded the corner at a run and he fought not to be overwhelmed.
"You're beautiful when you sleep," Nate's voice was his focus now, drawing him on. He pushed past pain barriers and ignored the lead weighing down his limbs. "But it's getting a bit old." Nate sighed, and Eliot threw his shoulder against the final door keeping him out. Once. Twice. Threw himself into a room where he lay unconscious, Nate at his bedside. "Please wake up?" Reality lurched.
Eliot woke up.
-
Fic: Dream Diary of Eliot Spencer
Word Count: 388
Warnings (if any): LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS of bad language (F-count: 14). Dark themes and violence
Dream Diary of Eliot Spencer
Submitted as supporting documentation for Psychological Review
File Number: ES0242
Consultant: Dr. Julian Rosh
11/5
Fucking shrinks and their fucking 'suggestions'. And fucking hackers with access to fucking restricted files. *entry ends*
11/6
That time in Gaza. With the dogs and the woman with a scarf. The scarf was blue. *entry ends*
11/7
Somewhere in the rainforest. Can't even remember the name of the guy. This is fucking pointless. *entry ends*
11/8
Tiny little graves. Rows and rows of tiny little graves. Couldn't read the notice to find out why they were there and we didn't wait long enough to ask any of the locals. They were still digging. Gail wanted to stay and help, but we had an ETA and... Fuck this. *entry ends*
11/9
Same dream, this time we stopped and helped and all the kids started getting back up and dancing around. Shouldn't let Alec talk me into zombie films before bed. *entry ends*
11/10
So I'm back to that fucking dream. I knew this would happen. I'm not fucking writing it down. *entry ends*
11/11
Same one again. This is not fucking helping, Alec. And if you're reading this I'm gonna fucking kill you. *entry ends*
11/12
Apparently I'm supposed to put more details. Get it out of my head or some shit. It's been months since I got that dream last and the fucking shrink won't accept that writing shit down is just making me obsess over it. Fucking shrinks. *entry ends*
11/13
It was Niger, 2002. She was 24. I just want to sleep. *entry ends*
11/14
Concussion, slept through the night. Migraine this morning. Every time I doze off she's there. *entry ends*
11/15
*entry missing*
11/16
I wrote it down, but I'm not giving it to the fucking shrink, Alec will just get hold of it. It shouldn't be a relief to go back to dreaming about cons going wrong and your boyfriend beaten bloody on the pavement. Alec, if you're reading this, I'm still gonna kill you. *entry ends*
11/17
Almost slept through the night. Something mild with Parker and parachutes. Seeing her this morning helped more than writing in this fucking diary. *entry ends*
11/18
The next time Alec suggests keeping a dream diary for two weeks I'm gonna make him eat it. *journal ends*
Fic: 10 Lil' Grifters Job Missing Scene
(Very) minor spoilers for the ep - (I can't remember exactly how this happened in cannon, so this possibly doesn't fit as a missing scene at all. Sorry!
Nate spared a moment's glance as Parker's hand shot up, but ignored it and continued with the briefing. Parker flailed around a bit, kneeling up on her chair as if height was the one thing missing in her attempts to get Nate's attention.
Eliot growled something low and threatening as Parker's attempts ended with her nearly falling off the chair, kicking him hard in the shin in the process.
"Parker, what is it?" Nate demanded a little impatiently, losing his flow to the distraction of the developing scene.
"I know how we can get in! I mean... costumes, right? I think Eliot should go in costume as *LASSIE*! And Hardison could be..."
"Parker, Lassie wasn't a detective," Hardison interrupted, before he could suffer the indignity of whatever Parker came up with next. Eliot was too busy spraying his coffee across their briefing table as he choked on it.
"Yes he was," Parker retorted, rolling her eyes as if it was *Alec* who was being crazy. "He was the *best* detective."
"He was a literary character though," Sophie mused, and Nate gave her wide 'don't encourage her' eyes.
"And how the hell did you think you were gonna dress me up like Lassie?" Eliot asked, a heavy dose of threat in his tone.
Before things could escalate, Nate shook his head and interrupted. "Sophie is in charge of costumes, and Lassie will not be in attendance. That is all." He shooed them all towards the door. "Now get out of here. Let's go steal a murder mystery."
-
Fic: Together
Word Count: 185
Warnings (if any): Nate/Sophie/Eliot. Obfuscation.
They dance together.
They move past and around each other with a synchronicity that comes from having known each other for far too long, but every time one thinks they might finally get close to the other, they've changed places again and they're apart.
They spiral, touch, press, and crescendo and every single time they pause it's at an arm's length.
He catches her hand as she throws herself into the distance. She curls her arm around him as he tries to beat himself into the ground.
They both halt, breathless and tense, when the beat turns sharp and hard, and they turn to watch him. He moves with edges they have never understood; vital, fast and so very dangerous.
When his beat stops they don't realise they've both moved a step closer to him. They startle, aware of each other again and spun back into motion. Still no closer to each other, but there's something shaper, harder in their intent this time.
He stands and watches them, but there's nothing but amusement in his easy regard.
They are always alone, really, truthfully. But they dance together.
-
Fic: Absconding in the Moonlight
From the two prompts; Moonlight, and 'Their ability to abscond was severely hampered by the insistance of bringing along the goldfish'.
Eliot knew what PTSD felt like, knew how it affected him and how to deal with it when it came - with the minimum amount of fuss and in the quickest time. This, what he was feeling right now, wasn't PTSD. He was pretty sure of that. That said, the last time he'd been on a fairground he'd come the closest to checking out he'd been in a very long time. It was fair to say he was feeling a little jumpy.
Nate had given him an apologetic glance when the Nth change in the plan had meant he'd had to go down onto the field to extract Parker. Which meant that Nate had known he was going to be feeling jumpy and that he'd planned around it, which hadn't helped Eliot's calm any. The fact that Nate was right - as always - just made him even more cranky.
It was already getting dark, but between the brilliant lights and the high full moon there wasn't much difficulty sneaking in around the back of the haunted house. He might have jumped just a little as one of the rides rushed past him in a flurry of bright lights, but there was no one around to see it anyway.
"Jumpy tonight?"
Eliot jumped again, before stamping his foot to dispel the tension. "What the hell, Hardison!?" he demanded.
"There are cameras everywhere, man," Hardison chuckled in his ear. "And they're all mine."
"Well maybe you should be finding Parker, huh?" Eliot hissed back, swallowing hard to get his heart out of his mouth.
Eliot scanned the lot filled with rides, ducking back each time one of the guards strolled past. He'd already been in three different fights with them, it was probably safe to say they were going to recognise him. Hell, he was starting to recognise them.
"Oh, yeah. Parker's by the little duckies. Still don't know why her comm's not working."
Eliot spotted Parker just as Alec spoke up, and from the tiniest twitch in Parker's shoulders as she accepted her gold-fish prize from the guy behind the stall her earbud was working just fine.
"Parker, I know you can hear me. If I come in there, people are gonna make a fuss." Eliot was not going to tell her just how much he didn't want to plunge into the centre of a fairground, with him already feeling twitchy and fight off the twenty or so guys he could see. Parker glanced over her shoulder, looking straight at him, and waved her goldfish proudly in the air.
Unfortunately, no one else was standing between them, so she drew the attention of at least two of the guys Eliot was trying very hard not to draw the attention of.
"Goddamnit, Parker," he grunted, throwing himself at the nearest guy and charging into the field.
-
"That would have been a hell of a lot easier if you hadn't felt the need to bring along the goldfish," Eliot groaned, holding the icepack to his shoulder as he settled back into Nate's sofa.
"I'm going to call him lion," Parker declared, gazing into the plastic bag full of water and its lone occupant, making a little claw-hand and 'rawr-ing' at lion a couple of times.
Eliot just rolled his eyes, and sat back in his chair with his ice pack. There really was something wrong with that girl.
-
Fic: Gorillas in $5000 suits
He laughs when Damien first suggests it, perhaps because Damien keeps his voice light and there's something soft in his shark smile. Thing is, the next day he's dragged into a tailor's shop, and he's still not sure this is actually happening.
"I ain't the sort to be cut out for suits," he pointed out, as Damien held up fabric samples against his face and nodded knowingly with the elderly gentleman who didn't even ask any questions before taking them into the back room.
"You will be," Damien smiles, disarming. "Believe me."
"I'm fine in fatigues. Kevlar when I need it. But you wanna put me in..." Eliot's searching for a word he's never heard before, which doesn't help him much. He wants to mock the material, the construction, the poor defensive qualities. "A suit?" he finishes lamely.
Damien turns sharply, all of the friendly gone, just leaving behind the shark. "I'm going to pay a couple of thousand dollars to have you dressed in something good enough to stand by my side and look like my general. That is not negotiable."
Eliot is knocked back enough by the 'couple of thousand' that he doesn't retort, even when the tailor ushers him over to a little block to stand on while he's measured up. He hadn't known anyone could spend that much on one suit.
"If you tell me blue brings out my eyes I'm gonna shoot you here and now," he muttered at the tailor, finally submitting to the experience. If worst came to the worst he could always arrange to get blood on it, and consign it to the closet.
-
Fic: My Pet
Eliot knows what he is here. What he is to Moreau and what he is to this collection of people, misfits and sociopaths and every one more handy with a gun than anyone ought to be.
Moreau calls him a general. He's always claimed to be independant, he works alone and he has always worked alone, but for Moreau he'll be a right hand man. He'll lead men into a clusterfuck and out the other side and they listen to him because he belongs to Moreau. And however crazy Moreau is, they trust him.
Moreau calls him a general, but what he is is a pet. He's a trained animal, and he comes to heel when Moreau calls for him, he'll fetch when Moreau needs, he'll kill when Moreau is in danger and he kneels when Moreau tells him to. It's only because Moreau hasn't told him to do that in public that he'll do it, but that doesn't change much really.
He's Moreau's pet, but all that really means is that when he finally decides he's had enough, when he turns on Moreau and tells him no, Moreau won't even blink before he has him put down. There are plenty of attack dogs out there for him to choose from.
-
Fic: Graves
The hole was too small. That was the thought stuck in his mind. The hole was too small to hold such a huge part of his life. The coffin was too light, like there was nothing inside. Like there hadn't been anything there in the first place.
Maggie wouldn't look at him. Like there hadn't been anything there in the first place.
The spaces on either side of the too-small hole are empty. Space for two more graves, where they will rest once day, on either side of their son.
He caught sight of Blackpool and his colleagues, lingering on the outskirts of the group, like they knew they had no right to be there. For a moment the rage and fury drowned out the hollow feeling in his chest.
He liked that feeling. Yes. That was better.
-
Fic: King of Diamonds
The guy wasn't tall, or well built, or particularly handsome. But then, Alec knew that Parker didn't even notice what people looked like half the time, so that wasn't really an issue. What he *was*, was a world-class diamond thief. Which is to say, Parker-class.
Some small part of him was crying like a baby as the rest of him suited up to go to war on the guy.
While Parker was going all gooey-eyed over the newest diamond the guy had pulled out of a drawer, Alec pulled the self-named 'King of Diamonds' aside (a bit rougher than was really needed, but he was trying on this apha male shit) and made it very clear whose territory he was edging on.
The wide-eyed 'oh!' wasn't really what he'd been expecting in response, but the laughter that came next was just disturbing. "I don't like girls," the King chuckled once he had his breath back, "I like diamonds."
It wasn't until after the con was over that Alec got a chance to talk to Parker, and he was nervous when he asked, tentatively; "You do like boys, right? As well as money?"
She kissed him, and he figured that was a good enough answer for now.
-
Fic: On The Inside
Prompt: Parker seeing Eliot go into the TARDIS
Leaving the TARDIS after travelling with the Doctor was always an odd experience. His piloting skills and the TARDIS' own unique sense of humour didn't always lead to you getting out where you expected to, or when for that matter.
Not to mention, since the chameleon circuits were set showing a very British, highly anachronistic landmark... well, turning up in the States always drew some attention.
Not normally quite so much as this though.
"Hi Parker," Eliot hedged, trying to remember what he'd been doing when the Doctor had pulled him away, and what the date had been.
"You missed the meeting," Parker told him blandly. "I told Nate you disappeared inside a blue box, and Sophie had to do the Heimlich on Hardison. Nothing else interesting happened. Can I see inside your box? What makes it disappear?"
Eliot rolled his eyes and stepped inside as she pushed past, still asking questions. At least no one would ever believe Parker.
From Scout_lovers prompt: Bunny still has reservations about these people (but at least they make his Parker happy)
When his Parker first told him about this job - working with other people, (dangerous dangerous shouldn't do that too many variables people are squirly) - he'd been wary. It was his job to be wary, to be the voice of reason. It was Ford that worried him most, though Parker got a sparkle in her eye like meeting a safe she'd never known for the first time. (he's gonna catch me, smart and fast and happy joy fun) Ford who chased and harried and once - just once - had picked up Bunny in his (Father hold and cuddle, gun calloused but gentle in the crook of his) hands and taken him all the way to the Police Station before Parker had chanced a daring rescue. Bunny didn't like it. Parker liked it a lot. But then that's why he was the voice of reason.
He still had his reservations three years later, even though he's met them all now, and listened to all of Parker's stories and all of her "He shouted and his face went all red and he told me I was never to do that again" (sounds like 'they're looking after me'). Even though Sophie (not Sophie, but we've got to remember, in front of Nate) had held him in delicate hands (with callouses that don't fit) and they had worried about her with him.
The thing is, she's happy (jumping flying freedom and pretzles) and it shows in the way she needs to hold him less. She's leaving him behind, but he can't find it in himself to be annoyed. He's reserving the right to still be the voice of reason though. (I need to tell you. I need to say) He doesn't think she's going to get much reason out of those pretzles she keeps staring at.
-
Fic: Keep Running
Word Count: 271
Warnings (if any): Domestic violence, possible (sub-)canon inaccuracies
He dreams about a time where it's easy to turn around and fight. Where his first instinct isn't always to run and find a bolt hole to hide in where no one will ever find him and he'll be safe. He likes feeling safe. (How'd I raise such a sissy, huh? Git yourself back in that ring, boy).
He's never felt safe in his own home and so he dreams about being somewhere else. Being someone else. Someone who'll turn around and defend himself. Sometimes (when he's cornered and he can't run, and God, there's so many of them) he fools himself into thinking he's brave enough to do this.
His daddy's mocking him from a distance. He always was the running kind.
He's strong enough (God-damn boy, don't act like you did it all yourself) now that he can be cornered like that and he can walk away. Or at least last until they stop, their chain pulled taught by their Master. They would have ripped him to pieces eventually. (He wants to crawl over and thank the guy on his knees, but his daddy's voice straightens his spine).
His boss ain't the kinda guy you say no to, but then this guy don't seem like that kinda guy either. In his mind he's running from pillar to post and not once does it occur to him to put his fists in until someone asks him to step into the ring. (He never raised a hand to his daddy either, though hell, he woulda liked to more'n once.)
He's far from his daddy's grave now, and even further from the reach of his fist, but Kid Jones'll keeps running 'til he don't have to fight no more.
-
Fic: Wake Up
Word Count: 304
Warnings (if any): Incidental Nate/Eliot pairing. Can be ignored if you don't like slash. "A Softer World" reference - 656?
He wasn't sure exactly how far he had walked. There was a ruined Jeep on the road behind him and no other way but onwards by foot. Parker's voice in his ear was still trying to coax the others awake, voice sharp and good to keep him grounded through the exhaustion. If she could get them awake by the time he got to them he might have some chance of getting them all out of this alive.
The facility appeared in the distance, surrounded by tree cover and, as he neared, peppered with armed guards. He knew the others were unconscious inside, there wasn't any other choice now. Hardison's voice took over from Parker's, blathering on about something or other. It was good to hear, reassuring. Comforting. He blocked out the sounds of Parker and Alec trying to wake Sophie and Nate, clenched his fists and focused himself.
He crashed through the front door, blood on his clothes and in his eyes. He hurt - God he hurt - all over, but he was still moving and now Sophie's voice was there in his ear, guiding and still gently trying to coax Nate awake. He forced himself onwards. He was getting closer to Sophie's voice now, achingly close. He couldn't give in to exhaustion and pain now. Another group of guards rounded the corner at a run and he fought not to be overwhelmed.
"You're beautiful when you sleep," Nate's voice was his focus now, drawing him on. He pushed past pain barriers and ignored the lead weighing down his limbs. "But it's getting a bit old." Nate sighed, and Eliot threw his shoulder against the final door keeping him out. Once. Twice. Threw himself into a room where he lay unconscious, Nate at his bedside. "Please wake up?" Reality lurched.
Eliot woke up.
-
Fic: Dream Diary of Eliot Spencer
Word Count: 388
Warnings (if any): LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS of bad language (F-count: 14). Dark themes and violence
Dream Diary of Eliot Spencer
Submitted as supporting documentation for Psychological Review
File Number: ES0242
Consultant: Dr. Julian Rosh
11/5
Fucking shrinks and their fucking 'suggestions'. And fucking hackers with access to fucking restricted files. *entry ends*
11/6
That time in Gaza. With the dogs and the woman with a scarf. The scarf was blue. *entry ends*
11/7
Somewhere in the rainforest. Can't even remember the name of the guy. This is fucking pointless. *entry ends*
11/8
Tiny little graves. Rows and rows of tiny little graves. Couldn't read the notice to find out why they were there and we didn't wait long enough to ask any of the locals. They were still digging. Gail wanted to stay and help, but we had an ETA and... Fuck this. *entry ends*
11/9
Same dream, this time we stopped and helped and all the kids started getting back up and dancing around. Shouldn't let Alec talk me into zombie films before bed. *entry ends*
11/10
So I'm back to that fucking dream. I knew this would happen. I'm not fucking writing it down. *entry ends*
11/11
Same one again. This is not fucking helping, Alec. And if you're reading this I'm gonna fucking kill you. *entry ends*
11/12
Apparently I'm supposed to put more details. Get it out of my head or some shit. It's been months since I got that dream last and the fucking shrink won't accept that writing shit down is just making me obsess over it. Fucking shrinks. *entry ends*
11/13
It was Niger, 2002. She was 24. I just want to sleep. *entry ends*
11/14
Concussion, slept through the night. Migraine this morning. Every time I doze off she's there. *entry ends*
11/15
*entry missing*
11/16
I wrote it down, but I'm not giving it to the fucking shrink, Alec will just get hold of it. It shouldn't be a relief to go back to dreaming about cons going wrong and your boyfriend beaten bloody on the pavement. Alec, if you're reading this, I'm still gonna kill you. *entry ends*
11/17
Almost slept through the night. Something mild with Parker and parachutes. Seeing her this morning helped more than writing in this fucking diary. *entry ends*
11/18
The next time Alec suggests keeping a dream diary for two weeks I'm gonna make him eat it. *journal ends*
Fic: 10 Lil' Grifters Job Missing Scene
(Very) minor spoilers for the ep - (I can't remember exactly how this happened in cannon, so this possibly doesn't fit as a missing scene at all. Sorry!
Nate spared a moment's glance as Parker's hand shot up, but ignored it and continued with the briefing. Parker flailed around a bit, kneeling up on her chair as if height was the one thing missing in her attempts to get Nate's attention.
Eliot growled something low and threatening as Parker's attempts ended with her nearly falling off the chair, kicking him hard in the shin in the process.
"Parker, what is it?" Nate demanded a little impatiently, losing his flow to the distraction of the developing scene.
"I know how we can get in! I mean... costumes, right? I think Eliot should go in costume as *LASSIE*! And Hardison could be..."
"Parker, Lassie wasn't a detective," Hardison interrupted, before he could suffer the indignity of whatever Parker came up with next. Eliot was too busy spraying his coffee across their briefing table as he choked on it.
"Yes he was," Parker retorted, rolling her eyes as if it was *Alec* who was being crazy. "He was the *best* detective."
"He was a literary character though," Sophie mused, and Nate gave her wide 'don't encourage her' eyes.
"And how the hell did you think you were gonna dress me up like Lassie?" Eliot asked, a heavy dose of threat in his tone.
Before things could escalate, Nate shook his head and interrupted. "Sophie is in charge of costumes, and Lassie will not be in attendance. That is all." He shooed them all towards the door. "Now get out of here. Let's go steal a murder mystery."
-
Fic: Together
Word Count: 185
Warnings (if any): Nate/Sophie/Eliot. Obfuscation.
They dance together.
They move past and around each other with a synchronicity that comes from having known each other for far too long, but every time one thinks they might finally get close to the other, they've changed places again and they're apart.
They spiral, touch, press, and crescendo and every single time they pause it's at an arm's length.
He catches her hand as she throws herself into the distance. She curls her arm around him as he tries to beat himself into the ground.
They both halt, breathless and tense, when the beat turns sharp and hard, and they turn to watch him. He moves with edges they have never understood; vital, fast and so very dangerous.
When his beat stops they don't realise they've both moved a step closer to him. They startle, aware of each other again and spun back into motion. Still no closer to each other, but there's something shaper, harder in their intent this time.
He stands and watches them, but there's nothing but amusement in his easy regard.
They are always alone, really, truthfully. But they dance together.
-
Fic: Absconding in the Moonlight
From the two prompts; Moonlight, and 'Their ability to abscond was severely hampered by the insistance of bringing along the goldfish'.
Eliot knew what PTSD felt like, knew how it affected him and how to deal with it when it came - with the minimum amount of fuss and in the quickest time. This, what he was feeling right now, wasn't PTSD. He was pretty sure of that. That said, the last time he'd been on a fairground he'd come the closest to checking out he'd been in a very long time. It was fair to say he was feeling a little jumpy.
Nate had given him an apologetic glance when the Nth change in the plan had meant he'd had to go down onto the field to extract Parker. Which meant that Nate had known he was going to be feeling jumpy and that he'd planned around it, which hadn't helped Eliot's calm any. The fact that Nate was right - as always - just made him even more cranky.
It was already getting dark, but between the brilliant lights and the high full moon there wasn't much difficulty sneaking in around the back of the haunted house. He might have jumped just a little as one of the rides rushed past him in a flurry of bright lights, but there was no one around to see it anyway.
"Jumpy tonight?"
Eliot jumped again, before stamping his foot to dispel the tension. "What the hell, Hardison!?" he demanded.
"There are cameras everywhere, man," Hardison chuckled in his ear. "And they're all mine."
"Well maybe you should be finding Parker, huh?" Eliot hissed back, swallowing hard to get his heart out of his mouth.
Eliot scanned the lot filled with rides, ducking back each time one of the guards strolled past. He'd already been in three different fights with them, it was probably safe to say they were going to recognise him. Hell, he was starting to recognise them.
"Oh, yeah. Parker's by the little duckies. Still don't know why her comm's not working."
Eliot spotted Parker just as Alec spoke up, and from the tiniest twitch in Parker's shoulders as she accepted her gold-fish prize from the guy behind the stall her earbud was working just fine.
"Parker, I know you can hear me. If I come in there, people are gonna make a fuss." Eliot was not going to tell her just how much he didn't want to plunge into the centre of a fairground, with him already feeling twitchy and fight off the twenty or so guys he could see. Parker glanced over her shoulder, looking straight at him, and waved her goldfish proudly in the air.
Unfortunately, no one else was standing between them, so she drew the attention of at least two of the guys Eliot was trying very hard not to draw the attention of.
"Goddamnit, Parker," he grunted, throwing himself at the nearest guy and charging into the field.
-
"That would have been a hell of a lot easier if you hadn't felt the need to bring along the goldfish," Eliot groaned, holding the icepack to his shoulder as he settled back into Nate's sofa.
"I'm going to call him lion," Parker declared, gazing into the plastic bag full of water and its lone occupant, making a little claw-hand and 'rawr-ing' at lion a couple of times.
Eliot just rolled his eyes, and sat back in his chair with his ice pack. There really was something wrong with that girl.
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Fic: Gorillas in $5000 suits
He laughs when Damien first suggests it, perhaps because Damien keeps his voice light and there's something soft in his shark smile. Thing is, the next day he's dragged into a tailor's shop, and he's still not sure this is actually happening.
"I ain't the sort to be cut out for suits," he pointed out, as Damien held up fabric samples against his face and nodded knowingly with the elderly gentleman who didn't even ask any questions before taking them into the back room.
"You will be," Damien smiles, disarming. "Believe me."
"I'm fine in fatigues. Kevlar when I need it. But you wanna put me in..." Eliot's searching for a word he's never heard before, which doesn't help him much. He wants to mock the material, the construction, the poor defensive qualities. "A suit?" he finishes lamely.
Damien turns sharply, all of the friendly gone, just leaving behind the shark. "I'm going to pay a couple of thousand dollars to have you dressed in something good enough to stand by my side and look like my general. That is not negotiable."
Eliot is knocked back enough by the 'couple of thousand' that he doesn't retort, even when the tailor ushers him over to a little block to stand on while he's measured up. He hadn't known anyone could spend that much on one suit.
"If you tell me blue brings out my eyes I'm gonna shoot you here and now," he muttered at the tailor, finally submitting to the experience. If worst came to the worst he could always arrange to get blood on it, and consign it to the closet.
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Fic: My Pet
Eliot knows what he is here. What he is to Moreau and what he is to this collection of people, misfits and sociopaths and every one more handy with a gun than anyone ought to be.
Moreau calls him a general. He's always claimed to be independant, he works alone and he has always worked alone, but for Moreau he'll be a right hand man. He'll lead men into a clusterfuck and out the other side and they listen to him because he belongs to Moreau. And however crazy Moreau is, they trust him.
Moreau calls him a general, but what he is is a pet. He's a trained animal, and he comes to heel when Moreau calls for him, he'll fetch when Moreau needs, he'll kill when Moreau is in danger and he kneels when Moreau tells him to. It's only because Moreau hasn't told him to do that in public that he'll do it, but that doesn't change much really.
He's Moreau's pet, but all that really means is that when he finally decides he's had enough, when he turns on Moreau and tells him no, Moreau won't even blink before he has him put down. There are plenty of attack dogs out there for him to choose from.
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Fic: Graves
The hole was too small. That was the thought stuck in his mind. The hole was too small to hold such a huge part of his life. The coffin was too light, like there was nothing inside. Like there hadn't been anything there in the first place.
Maggie wouldn't look at him. Like there hadn't been anything there in the first place.
The spaces on either side of the too-small hole are empty. Space for two more graves, where they will rest once day, on either side of their son.
He caught sight of Blackpool and his colleagues, lingering on the outskirts of the group, like they knew they had no right to be there. For a moment the rage and fury drowned out the hollow feeling in his chest.
He liked that feeling. Yes. That was better.
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Fic: King of Diamonds
The guy wasn't tall, or well built, or particularly handsome. But then, Alec knew that Parker didn't even notice what people looked like half the time, so that wasn't really an issue. What he *was*, was a world-class diamond thief. Which is to say, Parker-class.
Some small part of him was crying like a baby as the rest of him suited up to go to war on the guy.
While Parker was going all gooey-eyed over the newest diamond the guy had pulled out of a drawer, Alec pulled the self-named 'King of Diamonds' aside (a bit rougher than was really needed, but he was trying on this apha male shit) and made it very clear whose territory he was edging on.
The wide-eyed 'oh!' wasn't really what he'd been expecting in response, but the laughter that came next was just disturbing. "I don't like girls," the King chuckled once he had his breath back, "I like diamonds."
It wasn't until after the con was over that Alec got a chance to talk to Parker, and he was nervous when he asked, tentatively; "You do like boys, right? As well as money?"
She kissed him, and he figured that was a good enough answer for now.
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Fic: On The Inside
Prompt: Parker seeing Eliot go into the TARDIS
Leaving the TARDIS after travelling with the Doctor was always an odd experience. His piloting skills and the TARDIS' own unique sense of humour didn't always lead to you getting out where you expected to, or when for that matter.
Not to mention, since the chameleon circuits were set showing a very British, highly anachronistic landmark... well, turning up in the States always drew some attention.
Not normally quite so much as this though.
"Hi Parker," Eliot hedged, trying to remember what he'd been doing when the Doctor had pulled him away, and what the date had been.
"You missed the meeting," Parker told him blandly. "I told Nate you disappeared inside a blue box, and Sophie had to do the Heimlich on Hardison. Nothing else interesting happened. Can I see inside your box? What makes it disappear?"
Eliot rolled his eyes and stepped inside as she pushed past, still asking questions. At least no one would ever believe Parker.