Fic: Perception (Leverage, Nate/Quinn)
Title: Perception
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Nate/Quinn
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1160
Time Spent: 1 hour 30 minutes
Summary: Quinn can’t work out why Nate keeps glaring at him.
A/N: Written for challenge one at leverageland. For telaryn - I hope you like this; I enjoyed writing the pairing for the first time and I hope it’s something like what you imagined.
Quinn doesn’t know what to think of Nate Ford at first. The guy has a good reputation for being honest and for being fair but Quinn is experienced enough to know that a reputation does not always equal the reality. He knows, when they take down Latimer and Dubenich, that Ford isn’t in a good headspace so he makes allowances for any flaws and, when a fellow hitter asks him about Nate Ford, Quinn talks about the intelligence and the determination and then he says nothing more because that would be unprofessional.
It’s two months later and Quinn’s in town for a job when Eliot texts him to say they might as well meet for a beer since he’s in the area. Quinn grins triumphantly when he gets the text - he always knew Spencer liked him really - and heads for the address Eliot’s given him. They’re onto their third beer and discussing the merits of training blindfolded when Nate walks in. Ford nods in greeting but doesn’t join them, instead taking a seat at the bar where Quinn knows the guy has a perfect view of them.
Quinn spends the rest of the night being glared at by Nate Ford.
At first, he thinks it’s a hitter thing, that Ford’s worried he’ll lead Eliot astray or wondering why he’s in town and if his team is going to have any trouble. It would be understandable, even if he wishes Nate would just come out and ask him why he’s here rather than scowl at him from a distance. But then he sees the way Ford’s eyes narrow when Eliot pats him on the shoulder on his way up to get another round and he suddenly gets what it’s about. Ford’s jealous of him spending time with Eliot.
Quinn knows for a fact that Eliot spends at least eighty per cent of his time working with the team so it bugs him that Nate won’t even let him hang out with Eliot for one night in peace. So, in a move that’d decidedly unprofessional - screw his earlier morals relating to Ford - he moves his chair an inch or so closer to Eliot’s while he’s up at the bar. It’s petty, he knows, but it gives him a healthy dose of satisfaction to see Nate’s expression when he realises what has happened.
He wonders briefly whether the jealousy is of the friendship, the working relationship or whether Nate wants more than platonic with Eliot and thinks that’s what Quinn’s has with him. The last option is something Quinn lingers on for a while before deciding it doesn’t really matter - the point is, Ford needlessly glaring at him makes what was a comfortable drink a lot more tense. So he makes sure to draw out the goodbye at the end of the night, hand lingering in Eliot’s for a moment too long when they shake hands, and the first thing he does when he gets back to his room is text Eliot to say thanks, hoping that Nate would still be with him.
A week later, Quinn’s in New York when he realises someone is tailing him. It’s too busy to just turn around and punch the guy out so he ducks into a shop. He’s about to head out onto the sidewalk again when he spots a postcard with a recipe on the front of it; he can’t help himself. He buys it and sends it off that day with a silly message for Eliot. Eliot’s never given him an address which means he has no choice but to send it to the address he has for Nate which means there’s no way he can be accused of deliberately aggravating the guy. Quinn gets a text three days later from Eliot - no more postcards - and he knows he’s been caught out.
It’s actually unintentional when he ends up trying to steal a painting that the team are already in the middle of stealing. He’s pretty glad, though, because it turns out he’s been sent in as a scapegoat, not meant to make it out alive. Ford’s team makes sure he does. Later, they’re in a hotel room and Eliot’s stitching up the bullet wound in Quinn’s shoulder when Nate walks in.
“When you’re done, Eliot, I’m having a word with Quinn.” Ford takes a seat, picking up a paper.
Eliot nods, still concentrating on the first aid, and Quinn wonders if Eliot already knows what Nate’s going to say.
Quinn doesn’t react to Nate’s declaration - there’s no point in refusing to talk to him, not when Quinn knows Nate’s at least partly responsible for saving his life; he owes him a conversation at least. When Eliot’s done, everyone clears out, leaving Quinn alone with Nate.
“Are you trying to lead my hitter astray?”
Quinn’s not surprised to learn that Ford apparently doesn’t believe in niceties. “Are you being serious? Because, trust me, Eliot doesn’t need my influence to-”
“What do you want with him, then?” Ford looks him right in the eye, clearly not worried about the fact he’s confronting someone who could kill him in less than ten seconds.
“I don’t - we’re - friends isn’t the right word. We’re both hitters who can appreciate each other’s company and talents.” Quinn snorts, because he’s pretty sure he’s got a read on Ford now. “You’ve got nothing to be worried about - me and Eliot are friends at the most, you want to go ahead and date him, you’ve got no competition from me, no need to be jealous so-” he breaks off when Ford starts laughing.
“It’s not you I’m jealous of, Quinn.” Nate shakes his head, shifting his weight nervously. “It’s Eliot.”
Quinn considers the statement for a moment before folding his arms across his chest. “You’re jealous because he has a friend?”
Sighing, Nate looks up at the ceiling for a moment and then back at Quinn. “Do I have to spell it out? I’m jealous of Eliot because he has - because he’s close to you. I figured you knew and that was why you were, you know, making such a point of staying in touch with Eliot.”
“Oh.” Forgetting about his injuries, Quinn stands up too quickly and winces. Over the last few months, he’s been wondering what it is about him that offends Ford so much. He’s never considered that he’s actually the one Nate wants to spend time with.
And, now that it’s been pointed out to him, he realises that all of the time he was fake-flirting with Eliot, he’s actually been real-flirting with Nate.
“Quinn?”
He’s lost track of time but, while he’s been thinking, Nate’s been standing there waiting for him to react and Quinn hopes he’s not been thinking for too long. Looking at Nate, he sees the man he saw at the beginning - intelligent, determined and, apparently, very much interested in him.
Quinn smirks. “I guess we could go for a drink.”
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Nate/Quinn
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1160
Time Spent: 1 hour 30 minutes
Summary: Quinn can’t work out why Nate keeps glaring at him.
A/N: Written for challenge one at leverageland. For telaryn - I hope you like this; I enjoyed writing the pairing for the first time and I hope it’s something like what you imagined.
Quinn doesn’t know what to think of Nate Ford at first. The guy has a good reputation for being honest and for being fair but Quinn is experienced enough to know that a reputation does not always equal the reality. He knows, when they take down Latimer and Dubenich, that Ford isn’t in a good headspace so he makes allowances for any flaws and, when a fellow hitter asks him about Nate Ford, Quinn talks about the intelligence and the determination and then he says nothing more because that would be unprofessional.
It’s two months later and Quinn’s in town for a job when Eliot texts him to say they might as well meet for a beer since he’s in the area. Quinn grins triumphantly when he gets the text - he always knew Spencer liked him really - and heads for the address Eliot’s given him. They’re onto their third beer and discussing the merits of training blindfolded when Nate walks in. Ford nods in greeting but doesn’t join them, instead taking a seat at the bar where Quinn knows the guy has a perfect view of them.
Quinn spends the rest of the night being glared at by Nate Ford.
At first, he thinks it’s a hitter thing, that Ford’s worried he’ll lead Eliot astray or wondering why he’s in town and if his team is going to have any trouble. It would be understandable, even if he wishes Nate would just come out and ask him why he’s here rather than scowl at him from a distance. But then he sees the way Ford’s eyes narrow when Eliot pats him on the shoulder on his way up to get another round and he suddenly gets what it’s about. Ford’s jealous of him spending time with Eliot.
Quinn knows for a fact that Eliot spends at least eighty per cent of his time working with the team so it bugs him that Nate won’t even let him hang out with Eliot for one night in peace. So, in a move that’d decidedly unprofessional - screw his earlier morals relating to Ford - he moves his chair an inch or so closer to Eliot’s while he’s up at the bar. It’s petty, he knows, but it gives him a healthy dose of satisfaction to see Nate’s expression when he realises what has happened.
He wonders briefly whether the jealousy is of the friendship, the working relationship or whether Nate wants more than platonic with Eliot and thinks that’s what Quinn’s has with him. The last option is something Quinn lingers on for a while before deciding it doesn’t really matter - the point is, Ford needlessly glaring at him makes what was a comfortable drink a lot more tense. So he makes sure to draw out the goodbye at the end of the night, hand lingering in Eliot’s for a moment too long when they shake hands, and the first thing he does when he gets back to his room is text Eliot to say thanks, hoping that Nate would still be with him.
A week later, Quinn’s in New York when he realises someone is tailing him. It’s too busy to just turn around and punch the guy out so he ducks into a shop. He’s about to head out onto the sidewalk again when he spots a postcard with a recipe on the front of it; he can’t help himself. He buys it and sends it off that day with a silly message for Eliot. Eliot’s never given him an address which means he has no choice but to send it to the address he has for Nate which means there’s no way he can be accused of deliberately aggravating the guy. Quinn gets a text three days later from Eliot - no more postcards - and he knows he’s been caught out.
It’s actually unintentional when he ends up trying to steal a painting that the team are already in the middle of stealing. He’s pretty glad, though, because it turns out he’s been sent in as a scapegoat, not meant to make it out alive. Ford’s team makes sure he does. Later, they’re in a hotel room and Eliot’s stitching up the bullet wound in Quinn’s shoulder when Nate walks in.
“When you’re done, Eliot, I’m having a word with Quinn.” Ford takes a seat, picking up a paper.
Eliot nods, still concentrating on the first aid, and Quinn wonders if Eliot already knows what Nate’s going to say.
Quinn doesn’t react to Nate’s declaration - there’s no point in refusing to talk to him, not when Quinn knows Nate’s at least partly responsible for saving his life; he owes him a conversation at least. When Eliot’s done, everyone clears out, leaving Quinn alone with Nate.
“Are you trying to lead my hitter astray?”
Quinn’s not surprised to learn that Ford apparently doesn’t believe in niceties. “Are you being serious? Because, trust me, Eliot doesn’t need my influence to-”
“What do you want with him, then?” Ford looks him right in the eye, clearly not worried about the fact he’s confronting someone who could kill him in less than ten seconds.
“I don’t - we’re - friends isn’t the right word. We’re both hitters who can appreciate each other’s company and talents.” Quinn snorts, because he’s pretty sure he’s got a read on Ford now. “You’ve got nothing to be worried about - me and Eliot are friends at the most, you want to go ahead and date him, you’ve got no competition from me, no need to be jealous so-” he breaks off when Ford starts laughing.
“It’s not you I’m jealous of, Quinn.” Nate shakes his head, shifting his weight nervously. “It’s Eliot.”
Quinn considers the statement for a moment before folding his arms across his chest. “You’re jealous because he has a friend?”
Sighing, Nate looks up at the ceiling for a moment and then back at Quinn. “Do I have to spell it out? I’m jealous of Eliot because he has - because he’s close to you. I figured you knew and that was why you were, you know, making such a point of staying in touch with Eliot.”
“Oh.” Forgetting about his injuries, Quinn stands up too quickly and winces. Over the last few months, he’s been wondering what it is about him that offends Ford so much. He’s never considered that he’s actually the one Nate wants to spend time with.
And, now that it’s been pointed out to him, he realises that all of the time he was fake-flirting with Eliot, he’s actually been real-flirting with Nate.
“Quinn?”
He’s lost track of time but, while he’s been thinking, Nate’s been standing there waiting for him to react and Quinn hopes he’s not been thinking for too long. Looking at Nate, he sees the man he saw at the beginning - intelligent, determined and, apparently, very much interested in him.
Quinn smirks. “I guess we could go for a drink.”