The Plan M Job for soundingsea
Title: The Plan M Job
Author: laevatein
Recipient: soundingsea
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Slight Hardison/Parker
Rating: PG
Spoilers: References to certain scenes in Season 1, but nothing too specific.
Warnings: Insinuated character death
Prompt: Parker/Hardison against the rising tide (of war, plague, oceans, zombies, whatever). Angst is all good, as is inclusion of Eliot.
Summary: Hardison reflects on fantastical what-ifs. Attempts at angst.
By the fifth day, Los Angeles was burning. That's how Hardison knew it was actually the apocalypse and not some apocalyptic dress rehearsal. The virus had spread within days, as viruses are known to do, completely decimating any feverish hope that some high ranking official would simply broadcast on the air an explanation that would make the situation seem like a bad nightmare. It would be easy enough to do with the smallest amount of misinformation, "Nothing to see here, folks. This fine lady had a bit of a cough, but our super scientists have fixed everything and now she's super healthy. See? In fact, we predict that she'll live forever with our new treatment! How neat is that? Now, one day only ladies and gents, we're running a deal on immortality. You can get yours for five low payments of ten thousand dollars and never have to worry about another epidemic ever again." At this point, they would probably sneak in a testimonial from someone like Bill Gates, who was naturally one of the new and satisfied customers.
Nah, he had always figured that the end of everything would be caused by aliens or meteors, something flashier than a pandemic. He'd even take zombies over the current option. At least he could fight back. Or rather, Elliott would be able to fight them instead, which was damned close enough in Hardison's book. The man could take out a room full of thugs with guns; surely he could dispatch a roomful of shambling undead. Either way, the 'aliens, zombies, etc.' category were all easily fixable at the very least, especially when super scientists or Time Lords were involved. He'd said as much to Elliott earlier, who had only scoffed at the idea before saying something stereotypically snide. The young hacker paid half a mind to the comeback, noting that it was something along the lines of that adage involving wishes, horses, and cake. (Which had always been a weird combination for an adage, let's be honest).
The two sat in the conference room of Leverage, Inc . and had been there for some time now with barely a word exchanged between them. Parker had holed herself up in her office the day before, and hadn't emerged since. They had the news on, and Elliott was flipping lackadaisically through the channels. The few that stayed on were broadcasting the news, and things were looking increasingly grim. Hardison was glad when he heard the ding of a microwave go off in the distance. He excused himself before hopping out of his seat and finishing the dinner preparations. When he returned, Elliott gave him a dubious look, "Ramen again? You really expect me to eat this?"
Hardison felt about the same, but wasn't about to admit as much, "Hey, you want something else? You can take my keys and get some groceries. Don't forget to wear a mask in case some old lady coughs on you. Until then, this is about all we got, unless you want some easy mac." He set a can of mountain dew next to his companion, "And remember to take your medicine."
He returned to the kitchen, grabbed the other two Styrofoam cups, keeping the drinks stable between his arm and midsection. It wasn't like he had four arms or anything. Approaching one of the closed doors he gave it a swift kick, resisting the urge to tap out a rhythm. After a brief pause, he heard Parker's reluctant response, "Who's there?"
"Hey, it's Hardison. I have some dinner, if you want company." It was hard to mask how hopeful he was, like a little puppy hopping up on a new guest. Lovemelovemeloveme? Look at how cute I am!!
"You can leave it outside." Yeah, she wasn't planning on budging.
"Aw, c'mon. This might be your last chance for some real human companionship," he pleaded. Not that companionship had mattered to her a couple years ago. They had all been known for their lone wolf qualities. The past year had certainly changed all of them, and it made almost perfect sense. After all, nothing could beat the sort of family a wolf pack made. He waited, hoping that their constant talks about the little family they had made recently would dissuade her from telling him to leave again.
He was pleasantly almost-surprised when she opened the door a crack, “Don’t breathe on me,” She stiffened, eyes shiftily skirting over his form before continuing sullenly, “You could have it too.”
“Look, Parker. It’s highly likely we both have whatever-this-is. So don’t tell me that the immunity for this super-plague is based off how many buildings you’ve jumped off.” He couldn’t stay sore with her for long; and to his chagrin the last ended with less accusation and more wry amusement.
"It could be”, but she let him in regardless.
He handed her the food, which she accepted with far more grace than their colleague. They ate in silence for a while before Hardison finally spoke up, "So, when are you going to come out? We could have a pity party until the world actually ends." Because really, what else could you do in their situation? He wasn't trying to be insensitive, but it was obvious that they were operating on bargained time. Nate wouldn't be able to bail them out with one of his ingenious plans this time.
She looked down, toying with the plant on the desk as if it were an unpredictable creature, "Doesn't really matter. It won't be the same."
He wanted to tell her otherwise, but there was no way to contradict the statement and that lone fact ate at him more than anything else. Try as they might, there was no way to duplicate how things had once been. The last case had gone awry, knocking the team members down to three. "Look, I know it won't be the same... just think of it as a family reunion where your aunt and uncle couldn't make it. You still can go on, even if it's not quite the same. Believe in the power of stupid euphemisms and just trust me on this one." He held out a hand for her to grasp, hoping for a truly epic moment that mirrored all the movies he'd watched as a child.
"That's a pretty lame gesture." Well, one of the traits he admired about her was how matter of fact she tended to be. He shrugged it off, continuing to hold out his hand. Contrary to his expectation, he felt a warm hand tentatively grasp his own. He smiled at her, leading her around the desk. "We could always take our minds off things with a little fantasy. Or sci-fi, if Elliott can stomach it. I have a sci-fi western he might be able to stomach." He was trying to keep his tone light, a vain attempt to ignore the pull that came before the rising tides. There was nothing worse than knowing that he couldn't don a superhero outfight and save the world in ridiculous tights.
Still, there was something good at about this day, despite how bleak the future seemed. Somehow, the feeling of Parker's hand in his brightened his prospects. They returned to the conference room together, where Elliott was still watching the news.
In reality, this was all their fault. The latest case led them to yet another corrupt business, which was more or less old hat. The team made the honest mistake of underestimating a cornered CEO's actions. Yeah, bad people do bad things when they were desperate, but secretly unleash a deadly contagion? No one really planned for anyone acting that callous. The screen flashed, scenes from the past few days once more, and it was the inclusion of a new one that finally caught his eye. It was a mug shot, the guy in the picture looking like shit. The words marched across the screen in a steady stream:
Nathan Ford. Patient Zero.
The knowledge wasn't new to the remainder of the team, and the fact the information was being shared with the world didn't make the burden any lighter. Hardison could only gape at the image, the look melting into horror as Parker's clammy hand slipping out of his to cover up a sneeze.
Author: laevatein
Recipient: soundingsea
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Slight Hardison/Parker
Rating: PG
Spoilers: References to certain scenes in Season 1, but nothing too specific.
Warnings: Insinuated character death
Prompt: Parker/Hardison against the rising tide (of war, plague, oceans, zombies, whatever). Angst is all good, as is inclusion of Eliot.
Summary: Hardison reflects on fantastical what-ifs. Attempts at angst.
By the fifth day, Los Angeles was burning. That's how Hardison knew it was actually the apocalypse and not some apocalyptic dress rehearsal. The virus had spread within days, as viruses are known to do, completely decimating any feverish hope that some high ranking official would simply broadcast on the air an explanation that would make the situation seem like a bad nightmare. It would be easy enough to do with the smallest amount of misinformation, "Nothing to see here, folks. This fine lady had a bit of a cough, but our super scientists have fixed everything and now she's super healthy. See? In fact, we predict that she'll live forever with our new treatment! How neat is that? Now, one day only ladies and gents, we're running a deal on immortality. You can get yours for five low payments of ten thousand dollars and never have to worry about another epidemic ever again." At this point, they would probably sneak in a testimonial from someone like Bill Gates, who was naturally one of the new and satisfied customers.
Nah, he had always figured that the end of everything would be caused by aliens or meteors, something flashier than a pandemic. He'd even take zombies over the current option. At least he could fight back. Or rather, Elliott would be able to fight them instead, which was damned close enough in Hardison's book. The man could take out a room full of thugs with guns; surely he could dispatch a roomful of shambling undead. Either way, the 'aliens, zombies, etc.' category were all easily fixable at the very least, especially when super scientists or Time Lords were involved. He'd said as much to Elliott earlier, who had only scoffed at the idea before saying something stereotypically snide. The young hacker paid half a mind to the comeback, noting that it was something along the lines of that adage involving wishes, horses, and cake. (Which had always been a weird combination for an adage, let's be honest).
The two sat in the conference room of Leverage, Inc . and had been there for some time now with barely a word exchanged between them. Parker had holed herself up in her office the day before, and hadn't emerged since. They had the news on, and Elliott was flipping lackadaisically through the channels. The few that stayed on were broadcasting the news, and things were looking increasingly grim. Hardison was glad when he heard the ding of a microwave go off in the distance. He excused himself before hopping out of his seat and finishing the dinner preparations. When he returned, Elliott gave him a dubious look, "Ramen again? You really expect me to eat this?"
Hardison felt about the same, but wasn't about to admit as much, "Hey, you want something else? You can take my keys and get some groceries. Don't forget to wear a mask in case some old lady coughs on you. Until then, this is about all we got, unless you want some easy mac." He set a can of mountain dew next to his companion, "And remember to take your medicine."
He returned to the kitchen, grabbed the other two Styrofoam cups, keeping the drinks stable between his arm and midsection. It wasn't like he had four arms or anything. Approaching one of the closed doors he gave it a swift kick, resisting the urge to tap out a rhythm. After a brief pause, he heard Parker's reluctant response, "Who's there?"
"Hey, it's Hardison. I have some dinner, if you want company." It was hard to mask how hopeful he was, like a little puppy hopping up on a new guest. Lovemelovemeloveme? Look at how cute I am!!
"You can leave it outside." Yeah, she wasn't planning on budging.
"Aw, c'mon. This might be your last chance for some real human companionship," he pleaded. Not that companionship had mattered to her a couple years ago. They had all been known for their lone wolf qualities. The past year had certainly changed all of them, and it made almost perfect sense. After all, nothing could beat the sort of family a wolf pack made. He waited, hoping that their constant talks about the little family they had made recently would dissuade her from telling him to leave again.
He was pleasantly almost-surprised when she opened the door a crack, “Don’t breathe on me,” She stiffened, eyes shiftily skirting over his form before continuing sullenly, “You could have it too.”
“Look, Parker. It’s highly likely we both have whatever-this-is. So don’t tell me that the immunity for this super-plague is based off how many buildings you’ve jumped off.” He couldn’t stay sore with her for long; and to his chagrin the last ended with less accusation and more wry amusement.
"It could be”, but she let him in regardless.
He handed her the food, which she accepted with far more grace than their colleague. They ate in silence for a while before Hardison finally spoke up, "So, when are you going to come out? We could have a pity party until the world actually ends." Because really, what else could you do in their situation? He wasn't trying to be insensitive, but it was obvious that they were operating on bargained time. Nate wouldn't be able to bail them out with one of his ingenious plans this time.
She looked down, toying with the plant on the desk as if it were an unpredictable creature, "Doesn't really matter. It won't be the same."
He wanted to tell her otherwise, but there was no way to contradict the statement and that lone fact ate at him more than anything else. Try as they might, there was no way to duplicate how things had once been. The last case had gone awry, knocking the team members down to three. "Look, I know it won't be the same... just think of it as a family reunion where your aunt and uncle couldn't make it. You still can go on, even if it's not quite the same. Believe in the power of stupid euphemisms and just trust me on this one." He held out a hand for her to grasp, hoping for a truly epic moment that mirrored all the movies he'd watched as a child.
"That's a pretty lame gesture." Well, one of the traits he admired about her was how matter of fact she tended to be. He shrugged it off, continuing to hold out his hand. Contrary to his expectation, he felt a warm hand tentatively grasp his own. He smiled at her, leading her around the desk. "We could always take our minds off things with a little fantasy. Or sci-fi, if Elliott can stomach it. I have a sci-fi western he might be able to stomach." He was trying to keep his tone light, a vain attempt to ignore the pull that came before the rising tides. There was nothing worse than knowing that he couldn't don a superhero outfight and save the world in ridiculous tights.
Still, there was something good at about this day, despite how bleak the future seemed. Somehow, the feeling of Parker's hand in his brightened his prospects. They returned to the conference room together, where Elliott was still watching the news.
In reality, this was all their fault. The latest case led them to yet another corrupt business, which was more or less old hat. The team made the honest mistake of underestimating a cornered CEO's actions. Yeah, bad people do bad things when they were desperate, but secretly unleash a deadly contagion? No one really planned for anyone acting that callous. The screen flashed, scenes from the past few days once more, and it was the inclusion of a new one that finally caught his eye. It was a mug shot, the guy in the picture looking like shit. The words marched across the screen in a steady stream:
Nathan Ford. Patient Zero.
The knowledge wasn't new to the remainder of the team, and the fact the information was being shared with the world didn't make the burden any lighter. Hardison could only gape at the image, the look melting into horror as Parker's clammy hand slipping out of his to cover up a sneeze.