The Truth or Dare Job, Part Twenty-Three, Leverage (vamp!Nate verse), R-ish
Fandom: Leverage (Vamp!Nate verse)
Title: The Truth or Dare Job, Part Twenty-Three (Index to Vamp!Nate: Index)
Pairings/Characters: Nate/Eliot, Hardison,
Rating: Rish
Word Count: 548
Summary: Safely home, Nate cajoles Eliot into telling him why Avonski wanted revenge
A/Ns & Warning: Twenty Third chapter of a 25 chapter arc, for my angst_bingo card, found here. For the prompt "Wild Card".
"She's asleep. Finally." Eliot said as he came out of Ryna's bedroom. Hardison was nearly asleep himself, all bundled up on the couch after a second shot of Nate's blood washed down by a shot or three of whiskey.
Nate had assured Eliot that Hardison would be okay. They still didn't know if Chaos had made it out alive.
The coffee table was littered with the remains of their respective methods of recovery, the whiskey bottle nearly empty amid cartons of blood from the butcher and the last of their blood bank stash, plus bags from the take out joint where Eliot had picked up meat for himself and a meal for Ryna.
Nate's face was pink from the amount of blood and booze in his system and his eyes were half closed as Eliot dropped into the chair opposite him. He was tired, and juiced with energy at the same time.
"So, you going to tell me what that was all about?" Nate asked.
Eliot opened his eyes to look at him. He'd been half sure the vampire was asleep. "What?"
"The business with Avonski. Why was he after you?"
Eliot shook his head. "It was a long time ago. His daughter…Cassandra." Eliot could see her in his head as clear as if it had only been the day before he had seen her last. "Beautiful. Deadly."
He pushed himself out of the chair and paced a little. "She was young. Too young. Avonski trained her to be an assassin. At eighteen she already had a body count that was…impressive on someone twice her age."
Avonski had worked both sides of nearly any conflict, selling assassins to the highest bidders, and paying a premium for the best talent he could find. Eliot and Cassandra had been working a tandem deal, but Cassandra was just too young, unprepared. When the job went south, she didn't know how to handle herself.
"She was arrested by the Soviets. I went in after her. To get out we had to…let's just say it was not something I'm proud of. In the end, I put her on a boat with someone I thought I could trust, while I cleaned up the mess. She never made it home."
"What happened to her?" Nate asked.
Eliot shrugged, stopping by the coffee table and lifting the bottle of whiskey. He didn't bother with a glass, just took a swig from the bottle. "I never did find out. I didn't realize the bastard I trusted her to was running human cargo alongside his weapons. I can't imagine she would have gone down easily…but when the ship docked in Nigeria, she wasn't on it, and neither was he."
"And Avonski held you responsible."
"He had to blame someone." Eliot said, taking another hit. "I was convenient."
"But she was a criminal. He made her a criminal."
"Never said it was logical." Eliot countered.
Nate levered himself up out of the chair and moved to the couch, moving Hardison to a vaguely more comfortable looking position. "Bed." He pointed and Eliot snorted at him.
"Like that works."
Nate's hands found his hips and turned him, pushed him. "Bed, now." He whispered the words in Eliot's ear. "And maybe I'll fuck you before I make you go to sleep."
Title: The Truth or Dare Job, Part Twenty-Three (Index to Vamp!Nate: Index)
Pairings/Characters: Nate/Eliot, Hardison,
Rating: Rish
Word Count: 548
Summary: Safely home, Nate cajoles Eliot into telling him why Avonski wanted revenge
A/Ns & Warning: Twenty Third chapter of a 25 chapter arc, for my angst_bingo card, found here. For the prompt "Wild Card".
"She's asleep. Finally." Eliot said as he came out of Ryna's bedroom. Hardison was nearly asleep himself, all bundled up on the couch after a second shot of Nate's blood washed down by a shot or three of whiskey.
Nate had assured Eliot that Hardison would be okay. They still didn't know if Chaos had made it out alive.
The coffee table was littered with the remains of their respective methods of recovery, the whiskey bottle nearly empty amid cartons of blood from the butcher and the last of their blood bank stash, plus bags from the take out joint where Eliot had picked up meat for himself and a meal for Ryna.
Nate's face was pink from the amount of blood and booze in his system and his eyes were half closed as Eliot dropped into the chair opposite him. He was tired, and juiced with energy at the same time.
"So, you going to tell me what that was all about?" Nate asked.
Eliot opened his eyes to look at him. He'd been half sure the vampire was asleep. "What?"
"The business with Avonski. Why was he after you?"
Eliot shook his head. "It was a long time ago. His daughter…Cassandra." Eliot could see her in his head as clear as if it had only been the day before he had seen her last. "Beautiful. Deadly."
He pushed himself out of the chair and paced a little. "She was young. Too young. Avonski trained her to be an assassin. At eighteen she already had a body count that was…impressive on someone twice her age."
Avonski had worked both sides of nearly any conflict, selling assassins to the highest bidders, and paying a premium for the best talent he could find. Eliot and Cassandra had been working a tandem deal, but Cassandra was just too young, unprepared. When the job went south, she didn't know how to handle herself.
"She was arrested by the Soviets. I went in after her. To get out we had to…let's just say it was not something I'm proud of. In the end, I put her on a boat with someone I thought I could trust, while I cleaned up the mess. She never made it home."
"What happened to her?" Nate asked.
Eliot shrugged, stopping by the coffee table and lifting the bottle of whiskey. He didn't bother with a glass, just took a swig from the bottle. "I never did find out. I didn't realize the bastard I trusted her to was running human cargo alongside his weapons. I can't imagine she would have gone down easily…but when the ship docked in Nigeria, she wasn't on it, and neither was he."
"And Avonski held you responsible."
"He had to blame someone." Eliot said, taking another hit. "I was convenient."
"But she was a criminal. He made her a criminal."
"Never said it was logical." Eliot countered.
Nate levered himself up out of the chair and moved to the couch, moving Hardison to a vaguely more comfortable looking position. "Bed." He pointed and Eliot snorted at him.
"Like that works."
Nate's hands found his hips and turned him, pushed him. "Bed, now." He whispered the words in Eliot's ear. "And maybe I'll fuck you before I make you go to sleep."