Charming Bingo (for leverageland)
Various ficlets underneath the cuts. Various pairings etc.
Bash
In the past, they hadn’t really bothered with birthdays. At first, only Hardison and Nate had been trusting enough to actually divulge their dates and doing something as normal - personal - as celebrating birthdays together had been too much like admitting that they were more than just a team. Now, though, they’d all moved past that. They’d done too much - sacrificed things - for each other; they could no longer pretend that it was just about the job which is why Eliot now made it his goal to ensure every member of the team had a birthday bash they’d remember. For a whole week before each one, he’d spend whatever free time he had writing lists of ingredients while he sent Hardison or Parker out for decorations. Even if they had to work on the actual day, he always tried to make sure there was at least good meal on the table for the person, no matter how late they had to eat it.
Really, after everything his team had done for him, it was the least he could do.
Doctor
When Quinn was eight years old, he wanted to be a doctor. His cousin Neal had told him doctors earner lots of money which Quinn thought sounded good, especially if it meant he was rich and helping people. When Quinn was nine years old he decided he didn’t want to be a doctor anymore - there was so much blood involved - but, now, he spent a lot of his free time patching up injuries anyway.
Quinn sat stock still on the couch, eyes on the door as he waited for it to open. Fifteen minutes away, Hardison had said, but they’d already been twenty. The job hadn’t even been meant to be a risky one, a simple con, but somehow - the hacker had been too frantic to explain properly - Eliot had ended up with a bullet in his shoulder and possible cracked ribs. It had only taken Quinn a few minutes to get together everything he needed - Eliot kept a well-stocked first aid kit in Nate’s apartment as well as his own - and then he’d been reduced to this: waiting. Trying not to worry because this wasn’t the first time one of them had been injured and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Seven months into a relationship, though, he did worry about Eliot and he couldn’t help it.
The door opened and he leapt up, taking a moment to look at Eliot - limping, in pain, but breathing - before going to help him across the room. From the look Nate shot him, Quinn figured Eliot must have refused any support so far but he ignored Eliot’s attempts to shrug his hands away.
“Thought it’d be a good idea to get yourself shot at?” He kept his tone as light as possible as he lowered Eliot down into a chair.
“Thought it’d make your day a bit more interesting.” Eliot’s lips quirked. “Sorry. I promise I tried to dodge the bullet.”
“Good.” Already cutting away the top Eliot was wearing, he winced at the bruises already forming on his skin. “Did the bullet go through?”
Eliot shook his head, gritting his teeth. “Sucker’s still in there.”
“No worries, I’ll fish it out.” He pressed his lips against Eliot’s forehead for a moment, waiting for his own adrenalin to go away now he knew Eliot was as okay as he could be given the circumstances. “You about ready?”
“Are you sure you should be doing that?” Hardison spoke up, making Quinn jump because he’d been so focused on Eliot.” I mean, you’re not a doctor.”
Eliot held up a hand, still in pain but looking fondly at Quinn as the hitter reached for alcohol to swab the wound. “It’s fine, Hardison. He’s as much a doctor as I need.”
Clumsy
It’s been two weeks since Nate and Eliot decided to try dating and it’s still all new, still feels strange acknowledging what’s been between them for much longer than a fortnight. They’ve eaten together almost every day since they got together but so far it’s been more friendly than anything, conversation a little more personal than usual but that’s it. Today, though, Nate’s feeling impulsive. It’s a clumsy move as far as flirting goes, he hasn’t felt this awkward in years, but he nudges Eliot’s foot under the table, keeping his face impassive. It’s only when Eliot hooks an ankle around the back of his leg and carries on talking as though nothing has happened that he relaxes. Maybe he’s not so clumsy after all.
Grump
Parker’s been in a bad mood all day, scowling at everyone she’s come into contact with and talking to them all in a way she never usually does. Sophie’s not really sure why but she knows if something doesn’t change soon Eliot’s going to snap or Hardison’s going to get upset by one of her insults. There’s no real indicator as to why Parker is so grumpy, though, so it’s going to take some subtle questions to try and work out why. And that means actually being close enough to her to ask questions. Sophie looks around at the others, wondering whether any of them will offer to go over to the bar where Parker is sitting on her own instead of her. There are no takers. Apparently, handling grumpy thieves is another thing she didn’t agree to but ended up doing.
Sleep
Maggie doesn’t sleep for three days after she comes way too close to being blown up by a bomb in Kiev. Nate calls her once, just after she gets back to LA, and asks if she’s okay. She tells him she’s fine because she is, really; she’s alive, no real harm came to her and she’ll get over it. She’s gotten over worse. That night, she doesn’t even bother trying to stay in bed after the first nightmare. Instead, she reads a book she’s been meaning to read for a while and she replies to some emails and she does anything other than allow herself to think about Nate and bombs and pain. Then, on day number four, she answers the door to James. He doesn’t say anything, just holds out a bottle of wine and walks inside. He sits on her couch all night. Maggie sleeps.
Sneeze
Quinn doesn’t get sick. Ever. Or at least that’s what he told Eliot not long after they’d started dating. But when Eliot walks into his apartment with coffee from the place down the road, the sneeze he hears coming from the bedroom where he left Quinn is most definitely not just allergies. He groans, knowing just how stubborn Quinn is likely to be about this, and then goes to check they’ve got plenty boxes of tissues. Quinn sneezes again just as Eliot walks into the room and looks startled at being caught for a moment before grinning. Eliot knows before Quinn even starts to speak that he’s going to try and pretend like nothing is wrong. Lucky for Quinn, Eliot can be stubborn too.
Grim
Warning: Angsty, not an actual character death but still close.
When Sophie walks into the hospital, Parker is nowhere in sight even though she knows the thief was definitely there earlier. Hardison is pacing up and down, breathing heavily. Eliot is still, standing in the corner of the waiting room and looking down at the floor. She’s not going to cry, Sophie tells herself, but she feels her eyes well up anyway because this doesn’t look good. No-one says a word.
Twenty minutes later, the door opens and a doctor walks in. He’s still wearing his surgical scrubs and he looks tired, like he’s had a struggle in the operating theatre. Sophie almost doesn’t want to listen to what he’s about to say but she forces herself not to turn away as he sighs and speaks.
“Mr. Ford is still alive. But, and I’m sorry, the outlook is grim.”
Happiness
Happiness for Archie is a seamless lift of a wallet, light fingers making light actions that go undetected until the thief has moved away. It’s being so charming, so well-mannered, that even victims of his thefts have to admit he has style. But happiness is also seeing his family looked after and that family includes Parker, no matter what anybody else might say. Which is why he knows he has to let her go to some degree, let her be a part of her new family of thieves and grifters. Parker’s happiness matters more than his own, even if she’s living up to her potential in a way he’d never imagined. He’ll be there for her when he’s needed but, for now, he turns to ask for his wallet back and then walks away.
Snow
It’s been three days since Sophie told Nate to leave, practically pushed him out of the front door in her need to get him out of there before she cried. Three days before Christmas Eve and they’d been arguing about old wounds that she thought had healed long ago. Now she’s alone at Christmas for the first time in four years. No Parker or Hardison or Eliot - they were all doing their own thing - and no Nate; he’d gone back to the apartment above McRory’s and left her alone in the house that used to be hers but had slowly been becoming theirs. There’s a knock at the door and she doesn’t know who else it could be other than Nate so she gives it a moment; she doesn’t want to appear too eager.
She waits too long. By the time she pulls open the door whoever was there, Nate or not, is gone and there is nothing but footprints in the snow.
Bash
In the past, they hadn’t really bothered with birthdays. At first, only Hardison and Nate had been trusting enough to actually divulge their dates and doing something as normal - personal - as celebrating birthdays together had been too much like admitting that they were more than just a team. Now, though, they’d all moved past that. They’d done too much - sacrificed things - for each other; they could no longer pretend that it was just about the job which is why Eliot now made it his goal to ensure every member of the team had a birthday bash they’d remember. For a whole week before each one, he’d spend whatever free time he had writing lists of ingredients while he sent Hardison or Parker out for decorations. Even if they had to work on the actual day, he always tried to make sure there was at least good meal on the table for the person, no matter how late they had to eat it.
Really, after everything his team had done for him, it was the least he could do.
Doctor
When Quinn was eight years old, he wanted to be a doctor. His cousin Neal had told him doctors earner lots of money which Quinn thought sounded good, especially if it meant he was rich and helping people. When Quinn was nine years old he decided he didn’t want to be a doctor anymore - there was so much blood involved - but, now, he spent a lot of his free time patching up injuries anyway.
Quinn sat stock still on the couch, eyes on the door as he waited for it to open. Fifteen minutes away, Hardison had said, but they’d already been twenty. The job hadn’t even been meant to be a risky one, a simple con, but somehow - the hacker had been too frantic to explain properly - Eliot had ended up with a bullet in his shoulder and possible cracked ribs. It had only taken Quinn a few minutes to get together everything he needed - Eliot kept a well-stocked first aid kit in Nate’s apartment as well as his own - and then he’d been reduced to this: waiting. Trying not to worry because this wasn’t the first time one of them had been injured and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Seven months into a relationship, though, he did worry about Eliot and he couldn’t help it.
The door opened and he leapt up, taking a moment to look at Eliot - limping, in pain, but breathing - before going to help him across the room. From the look Nate shot him, Quinn figured Eliot must have refused any support so far but he ignored Eliot’s attempts to shrug his hands away.
“Thought it’d be a good idea to get yourself shot at?” He kept his tone as light as possible as he lowered Eliot down into a chair.
“Thought it’d make your day a bit more interesting.” Eliot’s lips quirked. “Sorry. I promise I tried to dodge the bullet.”
“Good.” Already cutting away the top Eliot was wearing, he winced at the bruises already forming on his skin. “Did the bullet go through?”
Eliot shook his head, gritting his teeth. “Sucker’s still in there.”
“No worries, I’ll fish it out.” He pressed his lips against Eliot’s forehead for a moment, waiting for his own adrenalin to go away now he knew Eliot was as okay as he could be given the circumstances. “You about ready?”
“Are you sure you should be doing that?” Hardison spoke up, making Quinn jump because he’d been so focused on Eliot.” I mean, you’re not a doctor.”
Eliot held up a hand, still in pain but looking fondly at Quinn as the hitter reached for alcohol to swab the wound. “It’s fine, Hardison. He’s as much a doctor as I need.”
Clumsy
It’s been two weeks since Nate and Eliot decided to try dating and it’s still all new, still feels strange acknowledging what’s been between them for much longer than a fortnight. They’ve eaten together almost every day since they got together but so far it’s been more friendly than anything, conversation a little more personal than usual but that’s it. Today, though, Nate’s feeling impulsive. It’s a clumsy move as far as flirting goes, he hasn’t felt this awkward in years, but he nudges Eliot’s foot under the table, keeping his face impassive. It’s only when Eliot hooks an ankle around the back of his leg and carries on talking as though nothing has happened that he relaxes. Maybe he’s not so clumsy after all.
Grump
Parker’s been in a bad mood all day, scowling at everyone she’s come into contact with and talking to them all in a way she never usually does. Sophie’s not really sure why but she knows if something doesn’t change soon Eliot’s going to snap or Hardison’s going to get upset by one of her insults. There’s no real indicator as to why Parker is so grumpy, though, so it’s going to take some subtle questions to try and work out why. And that means actually being close enough to her to ask questions. Sophie looks around at the others, wondering whether any of them will offer to go over to the bar where Parker is sitting on her own instead of her. There are no takers. Apparently, handling grumpy thieves is another thing she didn’t agree to but ended up doing.
Sleep
Maggie doesn’t sleep for three days after she comes way too close to being blown up by a bomb in Kiev. Nate calls her once, just after she gets back to LA, and asks if she’s okay. She tells him she’s fine because she is, really; she’s alive, no real harm came to her and she’ll get over it. She’s gotten over worse. That night, she doesn’t even bother trying to stay in bed after the first nightmare. Instead, she reads a book she’s been meaning to read for a while and she replies to some emails and she does anything other than allow herself to think about Nate and bombs and pain. Then, on day number four, she answers the door to James. He doesn’t say anything, just holds out a bottle of wine and walks inside. He sits on her couch all night. Maggie sleeps.
Sneeze
Quinn doesn’t get sick. Ever. Or at least that’s what he told Eliot not long after they’d started dating. But when Eliot walks into his apartment with coffee from the place down the road, the sneeze he hears coming from the bedroom where he left Quinn is most definitely not just allergies. He groans, knowing just how stubborn Quinn is likely to be about this, and then goes to check they’ve got plenty boxes of tissues. Quinn sneezes again just as Eliot walks into the room and looks startled at being caught for a moment before grinning. Eliot knows before Quinn even starts to speak that he’s going to try and pretend like nothing is wrong. Lucky for Quinn, Eliot can be stubborn too.
Grim
Warning: Angsty, not an actual character death but still close.
When Sophie walks into the hospital, Parker is nowhere in sight even though she knows the thief was definitely there earlier. Hardison is pacing up and down, breathing heavily. Eliot is still, standing in the corner of the waiting room and looking down at the floor. She’s not going to cry, Sophie tells herself, but she feels her eyes well up anyway because this doesn’t look good. No-one says a word.
Twenty minutes later, the door opens and a doctor walks in. He’s still wearing his surgical scrubs and he looks tired, like he’s had a struggle in the operating theatre. Sophie almost doesn’t want to listen to what he’s about to say but she forces herself not to turn away as he sighs and speaks.
“Mr. Ford is still alive. But, and I’m sorry, the outlook is grim.”
Happiness
Happiness for Archie is a seamless lift of a wallet, light fingers making light actions that go undetected until the thief has moved away. It’s being so charming, so well-mannered, that even victims of his thefts have to admit he has style. But happiness is also seeing his family looked after and that family includes Parker, no matter what anybody else might say. Which is why he knows he has to let her go to some degree, let her be a part of her new family of thieves and grifters. Parker’s happiness matters more than his own, even if she’s living up to her potential in a way he’d never imagined. He’ll be there for her when he’s needed but, for now, he turns to ask for his wallet back and then walks away.
Snow
It’s been three days since Sophie told Nate to leave, practically pushed him out of the front door in her need to get him out of there before she cried. Three days before Christmas Eve and they’d been arguing about old wounds that she thought had healed long ago. Now she’s alone at Christmas for the first time in four years. No Parker or Hardison or Eliot - they were all doing their own thing - and no Nate; he’d gone back to the apartment above McRory’s and left her alone in the house that used to be hers but had slowly been becoming theirs. There’s a knock at the door and she doesn’t know who else it could be other than Nate so she gives it a moment; she doesn’t want to appear too eager.
She waits too long. By the time she pulls open the door whoever was there, Nate or not, is gone and there is nothing but footprints in the snow.