(no subject)
Title: Eliot Fi-lurb
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Summary: "Eliot doesn't have an apartment of his own like the others."
Eliot doesn’t have an apartment of his own like the others. He checks into hotel, not by any airports. That’s where the mobsters like to dwell “for little business transactions”, and Eliot doesn’t want to start anything with a past client or said client’s rival. He drives a bit, searching for that out-of-the-way hotel and checks in, flashing the receptionist a smile. She (or he) normally smiles back, which makes everything easier.
He always goes for a room on the middle floor, near an exit, even though he can easily pull for the penthouse suite. The whole point is to appear unobtrusive. He rents the room out for a week, cash up front. Usually the receptionist (if they are good) inquires about such a large payment in cash. That’s when Eliot pours on the Southern Boy charm™ as he explains that his boss doesn’t trust his employees with the business card after Carl (or Susie or Ted from Accounting) got a little too happy on company time. They laugh or smile as they hand him his key card and with a last rearrangement of his duffle bag (he likes to travel light, even though he’s not doing any freelancing since joining the team), heads up to his room.
As a rule, a good retrieval specialist wouldn’t have anything tethering him/her to the outside world. It calls attention to oneself at the most inopportune times. Eliot, after fifteen years in the cruel biz, allows himself a P.O. Box (for the little family that would still talk to him-namely Bess and Matt), a cell phone (for what little friends he has, but mostly for Nate), and a rented plot of land outside the city for his garden (Mrs. Chen, or Mama Chen as she makes him call her, is a nice woman with too much time on her hands and his red peppers never tasted so good after she gets done with them).
He questions the validity of his tradition when Hardison hacks into the hotel computer on the second day, Parker picks the door and rearranges his stuff on the third, and Sophie charms the hotel staff into keeping an eye on him on the fourth. Or, when Nate meets him on the fifth like clockwork. Sometimes, it’s just a mission briefing or, sometimes, they take comfort in the fact they are alive another week to do this again.
It ain't home (not by a long shot), but it's pretty damn close.
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Summary: "Eliot doesn't have an apartment of his own like the others."
Eliot doesn’t have an apartment of his own like the others. He checks into hotel, not by any airports. That’s where the mobsters like to dwell “for little business transactions”, and Eliot doesn’t want to start anything with a past client or said client’s rival. He drives a bit, searching for that out-of-the-way hotel and checks in, flashing the receptionist a smile. She (or he) normally smiles back, which makes everything easier.
He always goes for a room on the middle floor, near an exit, even though he can easily pull for the penthouse suite. The whole point is to appear unobtrusive. He rents the room out for a week, cash up front. Usually the receptionist (if they are good) inquires about such a large payment in cash. That’s when Eliot pours on the Southern Boy charm™ as he explains that his boss doesn’t trust his employees with the business card after Carl (or Susie or Ted from Accounting) got a little too happy on company time. They laugh or smile as they hand him his key card and with a last rearrangement of his duffle bag (he likes to travel light, even though he’s not doing any freelancing since joining the team), heads up to his room.
As a rule, a good retrieval specialist wouldn’t have anything tethering him/her to the outside world. It calls attention to oneself at the most inopportune times. Eliot, after fifteen years in the cruel biz, allows himself a P.O. Box (for the little family that would still talk to him-namely Bess and Matt), a cell phone (for what little friends he has, but mostly for Nate), and a rented plot of land outside the city for his garden (Mrs. Chen, or Mama Chen as she makes him call her, is a nice woman with too much time on her hands and his red peppers never tasted so good after she gets done with them).
He questions the validity of his tradition when Hardison hacks into the hotel computer on the second day, Parker picks the door and rearranges his stuff on the third, and Sophie charms the hotel staff into keeping an eye on him on the fourth. Or, when Nate meets him on the fifth like clockwork. Sometimes, it’s just a mission briefing or, sometimes, they take comfort in the fact they are alive another week to do this again.
It ain't home (not by a long shot), but it's pretty damn close.