Man I Used to Be #2
Title: Man I Used to Be
Rating: PG-13 for now
By: Jendavis
Spoilers: Up through 2x07
Pairing: Alec Hardison/ Eliot Spencer
Genre: Drama?
Warnings: WIP
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: The present's a mess, and the past isn't helping.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
The crew was gathered in the living room but for Eliot, who didn't move from the dining table. As soon as Nate had their attention, he began to explain.
"See, this land has been getting bought off in bits and pieces for years. Our clients, the Bradshaws, were leasing the land beneath their ranch under an old agreement that's being grandfathered out."
"So what's our angle?" Parker puzzled at the pictures on the screen, her lip curling when she noted the horses.
"Roger DeWitt. Modern day land baron, though according to an ongoing investigation I shouldn't know about, you could call him a robber baron as well. Made his fortune in the development business. See. He goes in, loots known sites before the survey happens. The archeologists doing the excavation report back that nothing was found, and the project goes ahead smoothly, even ahead of schedule, which generally results in generous bonuses from grateful corporations."
Hardison cut in, bringing up another screen of DeWitt's financials. "And on the side, he's got a nice income selling the looted goods."
"We're going to bust him how?"
"We steal the artifacts he's already stolen, and plant them around the survey area. He won't be able to say anything about it without giving himself away."
"Hold on," Hardison interjected, his thumb pausing over the remote control. "I've seen those documentaries. Won't the archeologists know something's wrong with the dirt?"
"What the hell're you on about?" Eliot cut in.
"You know. Like how there's layers of dirt. If it looks like it's disturbed, it will give it away." Hardison was on a roll. "And what if they carbon date the stuff?"
"They won't," Nate promised, his voice self-assured. "Not as long as we're the ones finding it."
"How you propose we do that?"
"They've only put out a request for bids just this morning. There are three local companies that usually compete for this sort of thing."
Eliot sighed. "Seriously? Another collector job? This makes four in a row, man."
"Don't tell me you're missing the gunrunners already."
Eliot smiled at the wall. "They were fun."
"You're starting to sound like Parker," Hardison deadpanned, glancing over his shoulder to find Eliot sneering coldly back at him.
"No!" Waving her arms, Parker seemed similarly offended. "He doesn't do it right at all!"
"Hardison? Parker?" Nate rubbed a hand over his face. "Please stop teasing Eliot."
Eliot's scowl deepened. "I'm going to kill all of you someday."
"Even me?" Sophie looked up from her notepad.
Eliot bared his teeth. "No witnesses. Sorry."
"Hang on a moment," she was ignoring him as she scanned her notes again. "If what we know is true, then haven't the Bradshaws already been using the land long enough to have destroyed the site themselves?"
"The stables and associated buildings are on this patch of land here," Nate explained, pointing out the area on the map. "The rest of it's just grazing and a few riding arenas, so there was little to no disturbance of the ground underneath for most of the area."
"I see."
"So what do you say?" Nate addressed the group.
Parker raised her hand hesitantly. "What happens if we accidentally discover a mummy or something?
"All the better."
---
The rest of the meeting was standard protocol. Getting travel arrangements made, putting aliases in place, and scanning the nearest town, Bethany, for useful contacts.
"It's a holiday weekend, flights are almost booked solid. There's a flight into Kansas City tomorrow, but there are only two open seats. There's another flight in two days going through Des Moines, but the drive times are about the same from both. Logistically speaking, it ain't pretty-"
"Splitting up is safer, and you know it," Eliot interrupted, his tone scathing. Alec bristled, ready to argue, but Nate intervened, clearing his throat.
"There's only one hotel anyway. But here's what we'll do. Sophie and I will head out tomorrow and start laying the groundwork. The rest of you fly in on Friday, and we'll meet at the hotel."
"We should figure out somethin' else. I don't like us all in the same place," Eliot said. "Attracts attention."
"Our cover can handle it," Alec said. "Quit being paranoid."
He'd probably pushed a little too far, but Eliot's voice was dead calm when he replied. "Fine."
"Okay," Nate clapped his hands together. "Hardison. Make the arrangements. The rest of you? Get your things in order. We're going to make history." He rose, ignoring more than one set of rolled eyes, and the group began to scatter, Eliot cutting a dark swath through the apartment as he left. Eventually, Alec was left in front of the screens, pretending not to notice Nate looming behind him, standing beside the couch.
The man had something to say, it seemed, and Alec had a sinking suspicion that he knew what it was going to be. Nate remained silent while Alec worked, but his words, when they eventually came, were no surprise. "You got a problem with Eliot?"
"No, man." Alec glanced quickly up and away, shutting down his computer. "We're cool."
"Don't bullshit me, Hardison. I need to know that you two are on the same page."
"Oh, we are totally cool," Hardison assured him grimly, and started packing up his computer.
---
Yeah. Totally on the same page. Alec had said. Just going to take some getting used to, is all.
Oh, and by the way, I know something about Eliot and have the sneaking suspicion that I'm not supposed to live to tell the tale. What is it, you ask? You ain't gonna believe this…
Shit.
It wasn't the first time Alec had discovered something someone had wanted kept buried, not by a long shot. It wasn't even the first time it hadn't happened sitting in front of a computer. It was, however, the first time he'd try to file it away into the sparse cabinet at the back of his head labeled not for use.
He made it out of Nate's apartment without further conversation, but he didn't start to relax until he was down the block. Nothing had been said, nothing given away. He could go home, get ready for the next job. Get on with it, find something else to think about.
So it could only have been the imp of the perverse that pushed him through the door of the bar two nights in a row, especially when the second proved to be karaoke night. The caterwauling nearly knocked him on his ass before he made it past the first table.
He nodded greetings to those he knew, but there wasn't anyone in particular he was searching out. Since he didn't find anyone in particular, everything was working out, perfectly according to plan.
Like he's gonna show his face in here again. Like you want to find him in here in the first place. He shows up here, and then what? Ain't like he's just gonna want to sit around talkin' all night. It's just askin' for trouble, man, and you know it.
"Hey Alec," Shane was wiping down the bar. "What're you having?"
"Pint of Blue Moon," he decided, pulling out his wallet.
Shane nodded, eyeing him speculatively as he reached for a glass. "Just one?"
Alec blinked, giving away his confusion. "Uh, yeah."
"Thought you might be waiting on your friend from last night," Shane shrugged, tossing a coaster down under the glass and accepting the cash Alec handed over. "Definitely more interested than you were when I tried hooking you up with Anthony."
"That's because there's no accounting for your lack of taste. But no. He's just a coworker." Who's killed at least six people, and saved too many to count. Who's taken seven bullets that were meant for him and one that wasn't. Who's nervous enough around explosions that he's probably been in more than one. Who'd gotten a landline to his house the week he'd moved in, but never made any calls.
Alec remembered some conversation, back in the old office, before they'd blown it and blown town. They'd been talking about Sophie's performance on stage the night before, and Eliot had said something about it being the worst night of his life.
He'd been lying through his teeth, and they'd both known it, but he didn't defend or elaborate.
So, something else he knew about Eliot. He let people see what he wanted them to see, and nothing else. It wasn't a trait reserved only for the marks.
---
"Are you offering your services?"
"Merely information. Further direct contact would raise suspicion, and I am no fool."
"Indeed. Are you sure it is him?"
"I am without doubt."
---
Three fifths of the team was still stretching out muscles cramped from sitting in coach and driving for two hours, but all the pieces were in place.
Nate was heading in to DeWitt's office, and Sophie was waiting at the hotel. Hardison had been adamant about setting up base at a nearby library, and would be meet up later with Eliot and Parker in the hotel lobby to check into their rooms.
But for the moment, Eliot was sitting in the rental car, wishing he could get out and stretch his legs, and trying to appreciate the first ten minutes he'd had to himself since early this morning. It wasn't as easy as he'd expected, but at least now, with everyone spread out, the only communication happening was through the comms.
It was an improvement over the ride down from the airport, watching Hardison out of the corner of his eye every time he looked at or spoke to Parker. Reading her expressions in the rearview mirror and trying to figure out whether they really had a secret code between them.
As far as he could tell, Hardison had only talked about the job. He hadn't mentioned anything else, and none of Parker's strange answers seemed to be more than basic responses.
It was Parker, though, so who could tell. It had been a relief when she'd slid out of the car and across the street towards DeWitt's house.
Nate's voice came over the line. "Parker? Eliot? How you doing?"
"All clear at DeWitt's place," Eliot grumbled, already bored. "Parker's inside. Nothing out here that Hardison couldn't handle."
"Well I got a bunch of stuff here that you couldn't handle, Eliot, so you just sit out there and enjoy babysitting." Hardison's voice cut in. Apparently the library had the wireless connection he'd been complaining about needing as they'd driven into town.
Eliot could see Parker's shape through the half-open blinds as she walked through the house. "This place house is a museum, without the security or nice lighting. How am I supposed to know what to take? Also. Eliot would be a terrible babysitter. He'd scare the kids."
"Probably wouldn't let them play video games, neither," Hardison agreed.
Eliot rolled his eyes in annoyance, considered not taking the bait. "Nah, see. Wouldn't want the kids turning out to be total geeks or anything."
Eliot heard Sophie giggling softly to herself as Nate reined them in. "I'm outside DeWitt's office, so Hardison, you're point on this one."
Hardison's voice, when he spoke, was all business again. "He's been working exclusively in the region, so his collection should reflect that. Hang on, I'm looking at the historical society accessions…"
Sophie cut in. "Go for anything that's packed away."
"If it's valuable, wouldn't he be showing it off?" Hardison's voice again.
Nate's speech was suitably formal for playing a stereotypical academic. "My name is Doctor James O'Toole, I'm from KU. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."
"DeWitt can't risk it," Sophie responded, ignoring Nate's words to DeWitt. "He's like anyone else on the black market. Can't risk having any of the locals seeing the items. He's been getting away with this long enough that he knows to keep things hidden. I'm at the college now, about to meet with Doctor Harrison."
"Right. Okay, I'll try the basement." Parker, from the sounds of it, was already elbow deep in the boxes. Eliot leaned back in his seat and scanned the driveways and front yards of DeWitt's street, again looking for potential witnesses. The house two doors down was fore sale, the realtor's name and number emblazoned across a metal sign in the front yard, decided that he was looking to buy a house, if any one asked.
Other than that, though, he just sat there and wished he had something to do, besides listen to everyone's noise and chatter. They knew as well as he did that there wouldn't be much for him to do, not during this phase. The only reason he was here something Nate had called shovel insurance. You don't keep a shovel in the back of your car, you're gonna get snowed in.
Stretching his neck, he turned his attention to the comms again, Eliot listened to Nate describing the weeklong field school the college was setting up, while Sophie explained the Department of the Interior's ongoing investigation into the deliberate destruction of archeological sites.
"Let me guess. It's that bastard DeWitt," a man's voice said, barely audible through Sophie's mic. "How can I help? We don't have an archeology department."
Sophie's voice, much more clearly, fed directly into the comms. "We've already got Doctor O'Toole, from KU in Lawrence, who's worked with us on cases like this before. If anyone from DeWitt's office contacts you asking if he works here, I simply need you to explain that he's here on loan to run a field school for a few of your students in the history and multicultural studies department."
Eliot couldn't hear what was said next, as the noise of Parker rummaging through boxes was getting in the way. "… will there actually be a field school?"
"Yes, but it will be our archeologists in attendance." Sophie began to explain the plan further, but Eliot found himself drifting off, watching the trees outside and only coming back to the conversations when he heard Hardison's voice.
He was introducing himself as Daniel Jackson, the alias he'd been way too excited about using. Eliot thought he was pushing it a little, cracking jokes about pyramids and artifacts, even if he was supposed to be an archeologist. Student. Whatever.
Wasn't the smartest thing, interacting too much. Meant someone would remember him, later. Could attach a name to a face, even if it was a fake one.
He wished Hardison would get his act in gear and do his job. Do whatever he did to keep the volume levels normal. It was bad enough when he could hear four people in his head. Adding ambient noise and extra voices wasn't helping.
Nate was apparently sweetening the deal with DeWitt, telling him that the labor was paid for and the state had signed off on the paperwork, all he needed from DeWitt was a project area. Judging by his tone, things were going well on his end.
Eliot was fairly sure that Sophie's professor said something along the lines of"...just need my voice on the line when DeWitt calls," but he couldn't be sure, not over the noise that Parker was making.
"Correct," Sophie replied. "And only until then. Once this is underway, it will be best if you maintain no public knowledge of the investigation. If it goes as we suspect, it would only result in dragging the College's name through the-"
Hardison laughed, then, the sound blocking Sophie's voice. "Right on, sister. You just do what you do, get that ancient database up and working."
From the sound of it, he was talking to the librarian. Scratch that, he was flirting. It was damned irritating. He was probably only inches away from blowing their cover, too.
Parker slammed something, a drawer, maybe, or a cabinet door, and it sounded like a gunshot going off.
It was the last straw. "Damn it, Hardison, would you stop geeking all over the librarian and fix the damn comms already?"
"Hey man, chill." Hardison said, but a few moments later, it sounded like the volume controls had been reset. Too late to really matter, anyway. Sophie was thanking Harrison, and Nate was chatting idly about some pottery he'd found north of Lawrence, but he was wrapping it up. There wasn't anything important to hear.
DeWitt was on the hook, and Harrison was in place to back their cover story, so it was time to go. He had the car running by the time Parker returned, a cardboard file box under her arms.
"We clear?" Parker shoved the box in the back of the cab.
"Didn't even have to pretend that I was looking to buy the house across the street."
"See?" She clambered up into the seat, shaking hair out of her face. "Every time there's an instant cover, there's never a need to use it. I hate that."
"You would." Pulling away from the curb, Eliot tapped into comms again. "Parker's got the goods. Leaving the DeWitt place now."
Nate grunted indistinctly, and Eliot could hear Hardison making one last pass at the librarian as he left. Something about coming back from the dead. Sophie, however, was paying attention, and responded directly. "See you back at the hotel."
Eliot finally took his comm. unit out, rubbing at his ear.
"You know where we're going?" Parker asked, making her own earpiece vanish into thin air, or possibly a pocket, as she did so.
"Yeah." He stopped himself from ranting about the stupidity of her question. She'd been in the car when Hardison had explained the directions in excruciating detail.
"Oh."
"What do you mean, oh?"
"Before. When he was giving you the directions. You didn't sound like you were listening to him. And you didn't make fun of him while he was flirting with the librarian. You were all," she waved a hand through the air vaguely. "Quiet. Mostly."
"Well it ain't like we're gonna get lost. It's just a straight shot and a left at the gas station." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something flash across her expression, but she said nothing more, not even when he turned into the parking lot.
---
"You have Eliot Spencer's location?"
"I do, and it can be yours. For a price, of course."
"Of course. I wouldn't trust it if it were free."
---
It wasn't like Alec couldn't get a signal in the middle of the Sahara, if he wanted it, but tables at a quiet library seemed more pleasant than a sitting in a cramped rental car. Sitting for another hour with Eliot, who was just a little too stressed to be as bored as he claimed.
Alec thought the space would have done him some good, but judging by Eliot's voice when he was whining about a little noise, his mood hadn't improved since they'd parted ways.
Man needs to do a little reassessment of his priorities. Like he don't know how much worse things could be right now.
Besides, Joan, the librarian, had either been very nice, or very bored. She found his stuff for him, and laughed at his Stargate jokes, once he'd convinced her that his alias was a coincidence. Plus, she was a redhead. Had this entire late-season-Scully meets mid-series-Willow vibe goin' on. Had Eliot been there, he would have got it. Certainly wouldn't have begrudged a man.
Petulant bitch.
The others were leaving, so he finished making his copies and brought his books up to the desk, promising the librarian that if he died over the course of his excavations, he'd come back from the dead and tell her all about it.
He set off to walk the three blocks to the hotel, hooking his cell phone's earpiece into place, in case he found himself having to respond to the comms and didn't want to look like a madman, talking to himself as he headed down the street. There was one update from Nate, who was getting into his car, but the others remained silent.
It was a good sign. It meant there was nothing was going wrong, that there was nothing to worry about. But it was unsettling all the same, and he was relieved to step through the double doors to find Parker and Eliot sitting in the lounge, his backpack waiting in the pile next to theirs.
It didn't last long, though. All it took was Nate's arrival, in character, to inform them of their sleeping arrangements and hand them their room keys. Nate, as the professor, got a single room. Sophie and Parker would share a double, and he'd be crashing with Eliot.
Eliot didn't look thrilled at the news, either, his eyes darting up and away before he leaned down to grab his bag, heading up to their room on the second floor, not bothering to wait. Sophie took one of Parker's bags, offering to show her the way.
"The rooms have numbers on them. I can count," Parker replied, defensively, but she moved to follow.
He leaned down to pick up his pack, weighing the stirring dread at the prospect of sharing space with Eliot against the promise of a functioning shower. Nate, though, was thankfully already running interference.
"Hardison, you got a minute?"
"Yeah, man. What's up?"
"We've got DeWitt on board, and we've got the gear, but now we need to make it happen. You find what we need?"
"Yeah." He hefted his shoulder bag. Give me a bit, I can pull it together enough for a crash course." He looked up towards the front desk, just in time to see Eliot already returning through making a bee line for the door. For the moment, the room would be safely empty.
Nate's eyes followed his, and his face held questions, but he spoke to the group, obviously well aware that the others were probably still on comms. "All right. Grab a shower, do whatever, and we'll meet in my room in three hours."
---
Eliot wandered the streets for a while, eventually finding a park bench to sit and watch traffic. Nodded to the girls who jogged by, but his heart wasn't in it. It wasn't like he could take them back to the hotel, anyway, though he tried not to go too far along that line of thought. He already knew where it would lead, and who would be in the room when it got there.
Three guys walked by, talking enthusiastically about tonight's game. Wasn't starting for a few hours, but it didn't matter. While he was pretty sure he'd noted that the room had cable, Hardison had probably already commandeered the television. Claimed space in their shared territory.
He looked away when he caught himself watching the taller guy as he passed by, the wide shoulders stretching the cotton of his tee shirt. It wasn't like Eliot was going to make a pass at him, after all. He just wished he hadn't noticed in the first place. Made him feel like a perv, sitting here and ogling people.
Eliot wondered if Hardison was wondering where he'd gone. If he'd already assumed the reasons behind it. It was fairly mortifying, when he thought about it, reeking of cowardice for no good reason. If Hardison had figured it out, though, he wasn't coming on the comms to say so.
He hadn't said anything.
Eliot looked at his watch, noting the time. He had about twenty minutes to get back for the pre-game. Maybe, if he was lucky, he wouldn't have to spend the weekend sitting on his ass.
It was enough time to stop in the café on the corner and pick up peace offerings, Nate's coffee and Sophie's tea and Parker's weird orange raspberry mocha thing. They didn't have orange soda. Eliot knew he could've just left it at that, but he found himself dodging into the convenience store across the street.
It was just liquid. Didn't mean anything.
---
Hardison grinned no more widely than usual when Eliot slid the six-pack across the counter before distributing the coffees, but Eliot felt the eyes on him all the same, and wondered if he'd just made things better or worse.
He wished they'd get started already.
"Okay. We can't get access to Bradshaw's ranch until Wednesday. Slight hiccup, but manageable. That gives him a few extra days to go over the site and loot to his heart's content."
"I don't get it," Eliot shook his head. "Shouldn't we get out there to stop him?"
"Only if we want to risk spooking him. We've got time on this."
"So what do we do until then?"
"Sophie and I have some more groundwork to lay with the historical society, and Hardison's on research duty. Parker and Eliot, I want you to lay low. Hang at the hotel, watch cable. Read a book. Do whatever."
Eliot considered the days as they spread out before him, bearing entirely too many hours in a hotel room with Hardison.
"You expecting any trouble over the weekend?"
"No. DeWitt doesn't even have the sense to lock away his stolen goods. He's amateur enough not to have hired security, and not popular enough to have many friends likely to serve as backup."
"If that's the case, there's no reason for me to stick around, then, right?"
"Not especially, no." Nate's expression grew suspicious. "Why?"
"I've got work to do back home," Eliot decided, looking sharply up at Nate to forestall any protests. "Not freelancing. Just have some things around the house and some tomato plants that are threatening to take over the neighborhood."
"Can it wait?"
"It could, but I'd rather not leave it. Look. I'll head out on standby and get tickets back for Tuesday night."
"Alright. Fine," Nate decided, glancing over at Hardison, who was studiously staring at his laptop. "You can have a weekend pass. Parker? You want to go?"
"No. There's a quilt show Sunday." Parker happily waved the flyer that she'd picked up in the lobby. "Can you believe that I've never seen one before?"
---
It was obvious Eliot was trying to escape, but Alec caught up with him in their room. He wasn't stupid, but he decided not to make it easy, he closed the door, leaning against it as he watched Eliot rummaging through his duffel bag. "What's your problem, man?"
Eliot caught his reflection in the mirror by the television, but didn't meet his eyes, looking instead at the parking lot outside the window. "Nothing's wrong."
"Right. You've been acting like you ain't here since we got here."
"There ain't no reason for me to be here on this one." Eliot took some clothing out of his bag and shoved it into one of the drawers, lightening the load he'd have to carry with him.
Alec rolled his eyes and moved past him towards the other bed, sitting down. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, fine by me."
"You looking to get yourself hit?"
Alec snorted. "And yet, I ain't the one runnin' away all scared. That's got to burn."
Eliot's chin was jutting out, defiant. "Scared of what?"
And there it is, Alec realized. He's giving you an opening.
It took him a moment to figure out how to use it. "Bein' stuck in the same room as me. Like knowin' about you means I'm suddenly planning on jumping you."
Eliot didn't turn, didn't even shake the hair out of his eyes, but his breathing was steady. Like he was tamping down the anger before it got dangerous. "It ain't like that." Alec wanted to break the threatening silence, but after a moment, Eliot snorted, relenting. "Ain't used to people knowin' stuff about me that I didn't want them to know." He looked up, then, smirking in annoyance at his own admission and daring Alec to make something of it.
"Know what you mean." Alec dropped his hand to his side. "If it's any consolation, if I hadn't thought you were running a game on Ron, I would've left before you saw me."
"Why?"
"I go in there and blow your cover, we both know how you're going to react. Badly. And you aren't in the running for, ah, winning the world's friendliest person contest. Ain't like I expected you to take finding me there gracefully." He laughed it off, but it was apparent that the comment struck hard.
Eliot flinched, insulted. "You thought I was gonna stomp you?"
Alec grinned without humor, and found himself rubbing at his once-broken wrist. "No offense, man, but it's happened before. Wasn't cool." This isn't where the conversation is supposed to go.
Eliot had noticed the action, but as his eyes moved from Alec's arm, it was obvious that he had no idea how he was supposed to respond. On top of it all, there was the beginnings of something that looked like angry concern brewing in his expression.
This really isn't the issue. Drop it.
"Don't worry about it," Alec shoved his hands into his pockets and decided to go for broke, knowing full well that if he didn't say anything now, he probably never would. "Look. I know it's like poison. But. In the unlikely event that you decide you want to talk about it, I'll listen. Otherwise, it's not my business, and I'm not going to make it anyone else's. Deal?"
Eliot sighed, eyes darting to the door as footsteps passed by in the hallway. He nodded noncommittally, but he'd heard. "I'm still leaving."
Alec shook his head, thinking back to the earlier conversation. "Gardening? For real?"
"Among other things," Eliot answered evasively, because he wasn't the kind of guy that admitted to needing time to think. "But I'll be back. And. I dunno. Maybe we'll talk about it, maybe we won't."
There were probably a thousand ways he could have replied, but he'd already gone too far, probably. "Cool." Alec stepped aside, allowing Eliot access to the door. It was only when Eliot's shoulders lost some of their tension that Alec realized that trapping him inside the room had probably made things worse than they needed to be.
Belatedly, he remembered the paper in his back pocket, which he pulled out and handed over as Eliot passed. Slowing to a halt, Eliot looked at the carefully scrawled flight reservation information for the round trip, and glanced up at Alec, surprise evident on his face.
"Thanks. I owe you."
"No problem," Alec smirked, stepping aside. "Bring back some of those insane tomatoes, and we'll call it even."
Eliot laughed, and made it halfway down the hall before calling out, over his shoulder. "You don't even eat vegetables."
"Then you can call it revenge for making you fly coach," Alec replied, and let the door fall shut.
He was already turning on the television and settling in for the night when he realized he'd forgotten to stop grinning.
---
"I am sure we can come to terms. No transfers, though. I want cash."
"Than you shall receive it. When can you get here?"
"My flight leaves in an hour. I will contact you when I land."
---
Chapter 3
Rating: PG-13 for now
By: Jendavis
Spoilers: Up through 2x07
Pairing: Alec Hardison/ Eliot Spencer
Genre: Drama?
Warnings: WIP
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, don't take this too seriously.
Summary: The present's a mess, and the past isn't helping.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
The crew was gathered in the living room but for Eliot, who didn't move from the dining table. As soon as Nate had their attention, he began to explain.
"See, this land has been getting bought off in bits and pieces for years. Our clients, the Bradshaws, were leasing the land beneath their ranch under an old agreement that's being grandfathered out."
"So what's our angle?" Parker puzzled at the pictures on the screen, her lip curling when she noted the horses.
"Roger DeWitt. Modern day land baron, though according to an ongoing investigation I shouldn't know about, you could call him a robber baron as well. Made his fortune in the development business. See. He goes in, loots known sites before the survey happens. The archeologists doing the excavation report back that nothing was found, and the project goes ahead smoothly, even ahead of schedule, which generally results in generous bonuses from grateful corporations."
Hardison cut in, bringing up another screen of DeWitt's financials. "And on the side, he's got a nice income selling the looted goods."
"We're going to bust him how?"
"We steal the artifacts he's already stolen, and plant them around the survey area. He won't be able to say anything about it without giving himself away."
"Hold on," Hardison interjected, his thumb pausing over the remote control. "I've seen those documentaries. Won't the archeologists know something's wrong with the dirt?"
"What the hell're you on about?" Eliot cut in.
"You know. Like how there's layers of dirt. If it looks like it's disturbed, it will give it away." Hardison was on a roll. "And what if they carbon date the stuff?"
"They won't," Nate promised, his voice self-assured. "Not as long as we're the ones finding it."
"How you propose we do that?"
"They've only put out a request for bids just this morning. There are three local companies that usually compete for this sort of thing."
Eliot sighed. "Seriously? Another collector job? This makes four in a row, man."
"Don't tell me you're missing the gunrunners already."
Eliot smiled at the wall. "They were fun."
"You're starting to sound like Parker," Hardison deadpanned, glancing over his shoulder to find Eliot sneering coldly back at him.
"No!" Waving her arms, Parker seemed similarly offended. "He doesn't do it right at all!"
"Hardison? Parker?" Nate rubbed a hand over his face. "Please stop teasing Eliot."
Eliot's scowl deepened. "I'm going to kill all of you someday."
"Even me?" Sophie looked up from her notepad.
Eliot bared his teeth. "No witnesses. Sorry."
"Hang on a moment," she was ignoring him as she scanned her notes again. "If what we know is true, then haven't the Bradshaws already been using the land long enough to have destroyed the site themselves?"
"The stables and associated buildings are on this patch of land here," Nate explained, pointing out the area on the map. "The rest of it's just grazing and a few riding arenas, so there was little to no disturbance of the ground underneath for most of the area."
"I see."
"So what do you say?" Nate addressed the group.
Parker raised her hand hesitantly. "What happens if we accidentally discover a mummy or something?
"All the better."
---
The rest of the meeting was standard protocol. Getting travel arrangements made, putting aliases in place, and scanning the nearest town, Bethany, for useful contacts.
"It's a holiday weekend, flights are almost booked solid. There's a flight into Kansas City tomorrow, but there are only two open seats. There's another flight in two days going through Des Moines, but the drive times are about the same from both. Logistically speaking, it ain't pretty-"
"Splitting up is safer, and you know it," Eliot interrupted, his tone scathing. Alec bristled, ready to argue, but Nate intervened, clearing his throat.
"There's only one hotel anyway. But here's what we'll do. Sophie and I will head out tomorrow and start laying the groundwork. The rest of you fly in on Friday, and we'll meet at the hotel."
"We should figure out somethin' else. I don't like us all in the same place," Eliot said. "Attracts attention."
"Our cover can handle it," Alec said. "Quit being paranoid."
He'd probably pushed a little too far, but Eliot's voice was dead calm when he replied. "Fine."
"Okay," Nate clapped his hands together. "Hardison. Make the arrangements. The rest of you? Get your things in order. We're going to make history." He rose, ignoring more than one set of rolled eyes, and the group began to scatter, Eliot cutting a dark swath through the apartment as he left. Eventually, Alec was left in front of the screens, pretending not to notice Nate looming behind him, standing beside the couch.
The man had something to say, it seemed, and Alec had a sinking suspicion that he knew what it was going to be. Nate remained silent while Alec worked, but his words, when they eventually came, were no surprise. "You got a problem with Eliot?"
"No, man." Alec glanced quickly up and away, shutting down his computer. "We're cool."
"Don't bullshit me, Hardison. I need to know that you two are on the same page."
"Oh, we are totally cool," Hardison assured him grimly, and started packing up his computer.
---
Yeah. Totally on the same page. Alec had said. Just going to take some getting used to, is all.
Oh, and by the way, I know something about Eliot and have the sneaking suspicion that I'm not supposed to live to tell the tale. What is it, you ask? You ain't gonna believe this…
Shit.
It wasn't the first time Alec had discovered something someone had wanted kept buried, not by a long shot. It wasn't even the first time it hadn't happened sitting in front of a computer. It was, however, the first time he'd try to file it away into the sparse cabinet at the back of his head labeled not for use.
He made it out of Nate's apartment without further conversation, but he didn't start to relax until he was down the block. Nothing had been said, nothing given away. He could go home, get ready for the next job. Get on with it, find something else to think about.
So it could only have been the imp of the perverse that pushed him through the door of the bar two nights in a row, especially when the second proved to be karaoke night. The caterwauling nearly knocked him on his ass before he made it past the first table.
He nodded greetings to those he knew, but there wasn't anyone in particular he was searching out. Since he didn't find anyone in particular, everything was working out, perfectly according to plan.
Like he's gonna show his face in here again. Like you want to find him in here in the first place. He shows up here, and then what? Ain't like he's just gonna want to sit around talkin' all night. It's just askin' for trouble, man, and you know it.
"Hey Alec," Shane was wiping down the bar. "What're you having?"
"Pint of Blue Moon," he decided, pulling out his wallet.
Shane nodded, eyeing him speculatively as he reached for a glass. "Just one?"
Alec blinked, giving away his confusion. "Uh, yeah."
"Thought you might be waiting on your friend from last night," Shane shrugged, tossing a coaster down under the glass and accepting the cash Alec handed over. "Definitely more interested than you were when I tried hooking you up with Anthony."
"That's because there's no accounting for your lack of taste. But no. He's just a coworker." Who's killed at least six people, and saved too many to count. Who's taken seven bullets that were meant for him and one that wasn't. Who's nervous enough around explosions that he's probably been in more than one. Who'd gotten a landline to his house the week he'd moved in, but never made any calls.
Alec remembered some conversation, back in the old office, before they'd blown it and blown town. They'd been talking about Sophie's performance on stage the night before, and Eliot had said something about it being the worst night of his life.
He'd been lying through his teeth, and they'd both known it, but he didn't defend or elaborate.
So, something else he knew about Eliot. He let people see what he wanted them to see, and nothing else. It wasn't a trait reserved only for the marks.
---
"Are you offering your services?"
"Merely information. Further direct contact would raise suspicion, and I am no fool."
"Indeed. Are you sure it is him?"
"I am without doubt."
---
Three fifths of the team was still stretching out muscles cramped from sitting in coach and driving for two hours, but all the pieces were in place.
Nate was heading in to DeWitt's office, and Sophie was waiting at the hotel. Hardison had been adamant about setting up base at a nearby library, and would be meet up later with Eliot and Parker in the hotel lobby to check into their rooms.
But for the moment, Eliot was sitting in the rental car, wishing he could get out and stretch his legs, and trying to appreciate the first ten minutes he'd had to himself since early this morning. It wasn't as easy as he'd expected, but at least now, with everyone spread out, the only communication happening was through the comms.
It was an improvement over the ride down from the airport, watching Hardison out of the corner of his eye every time he looked at or spoke to Parker. Reading her expressions in the rearview mirror and trying to figure out whether they really had a secret code between them.
As far as he could tell, Hardison had only talked about the job. He hadn't mentioned anything else, and none of Parker's strange answers seemed to be more than basic responses.
It was Parker, though, so who could tell. It had been a relief when she'd slid out of the car and across the street towards DeWitt's house.
Nate's voice came over the line. "Parker? Eliot? How you doing?"
"All clear at DeWitt's place," Eliot grumbled, already bored. "Parker's inside. Nothing out here that Hardison couldn't handle."
"Well I got a bunch of stuff here that you couldn't handle, Eliot, so you just sit out there and enjoy babysitting." Hardison's voice cut in. Apparently the library had the wireless connection he'd been complaining about needing as they'd driven into town.
Eliot could see Parker's shape through the half-open blinds as she walked through the house. "This place house is a museum, without the security or nice lighting. How am I supposed to know what to take? Also. Eliot would be a terrible babysitter. He'd scare the kids."
"Probably wouldn't let them play video games, neither," Hardison agreed.
Eliot rolled his eyes in annoyance, considered not taking the bait. "Nah, see. Wouldn't want the kids turning out to be total geeks or anything."
Eliot heard Sophie giggling softly to herself as Nate reined them in. "I'm outside DeWitt's office, so Hardison, you're point on this one."
Hardison's voice, when he spoke, was all business again. "He's been working exclusively in the region, so his collection should reflect that. Hang on, I'm looking at the historical society accessions…"
Sophie cut in. "Go for anything that's packed away."
"If it's valuable, wouldn't he be showing it off?" Hardison's voice again.
Nate's speech was suitably formal for playing a stereotypical academic. "My name is Doctor James O'Toole, I'm from KU. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."
"DeWitt can't risk it," Sophie responded, ignoring Nate's words to DeWitt. "He's like anyone else on the black market. Can't risk having any of the locals seeing the items. He's been getting away with this long enough that he knows to keep things hidden. I'm at the college now, about to meet with Doctor Harrison."
"Right. Okay, I'll try the basement." Parker, from the sounds of it, was already elbow deep in the boxes. Eliot leaned back in his seat and scanned the driveways and front yards of DeWitt's street, again looking for potential witnesses. The house two doors down was fore sale, the realtor's name and number emblazoned across a metal sign in the front yard, decided that he was looking to buy a house, if any one asked.
Other than that, though, he just sat there and wished he had something to do, besides listen to everyone's noise and chatter. They knew as well as he did that there wouldn't be much for him to do, not during this phase. The only reason he was here something Nate had called shovel insurance. You don't keep a shovel in the back of your car, you're gonna get snowed in.
Stretching his neck, he turned his attention to the comms again, Eliot listened to Nate describing the weeklong field school the college was setting up, while Sophie explained the Department of the Interior's ongoing investigation into the deliberate destruction of archeological sites.
"Let me guess. It's that bastard DeWitt," a man's voice said, barely audible through Sophie's mic. "How can I help? We don't have an archeology department."
Sophie's voice, much more clearly, fed directly into the comms. "We've already got Doctor O'Toole, from KU in Lawrence, who's worked with us on cases like this before. If anyone from DeWitt's office contacts you asking if he works here, I simply need you to explain that he's here on loan to run a field school for a few of your students in the history and multicultural studies department."
Eliot couldn't hear what was said next, as the noise of Parker rummaging through boxes was getting in the way. "… will there actually be a field school?"
"Yes, but it will be our archeologists in attendance." Sophie began to explain the plan further, but Eliot found himself drifting off, watching the trees outside and only coming back to the conversations when he heard Hardison's voice.
He was introducing himself as Daniel Jackson, the alias he'd been way too excited about using. Eliot thought he was pushing it a little, cracking jokes about pyramids and artifacts, even if he was supposed to be an archeologist. Student. Whatever.
Wasn't the smartest thing, interacting too much. Meant someone would remember him, later. Could attach a name to a face, even if it was a fake one.
He wished Hardison would get his act in gear and do his job. Do whatever he did to keep the volume levels normal. It was bad enough when he could hear four people in his head. Adding ambient noise and extra voices wasn't helping.
Nate was apparently sweetening the deal with DeWitt, telling him that the labor was paid for and the state had signed off on the paperwork, all he needed from DeWitt was a project area. Judging by his tone, things were going well on his end.
Eliot was fairly sure that Sophie's professor said something along the lines of"...just need my voice on the line when DeWitt calls," but he couldn't be sure, not over the noise that Parker was making.
"Correct," Sophie replied. "And only until then. Once this is underway, it will be best if you maintain no public knowledge of the investigation. If it goes as we suspect, it would only result in dragging the College's name through the-"
Hardison laughed, then, the sound blocking Sophie's voice. "Right on, sister. You just do what you do, get that ancient database up and working."
From the sound of it, he was talking to the librarian. Scratch that, he was flirting. It was damned irritating. He was probably only inches away from blowing their cover, too.
Parker slammed something, a drawer, maybe, or a cabinet door, and it sounded like a gunshot going off.
It was the last straw. "Damn it, Hardison, would you stop geeking all over the librarian and fix the damn comms already?"
"Hey man, chill." Hardison said, but a few moments later, it sounded like the volume controls had been reset. Too late to really matter, anyway. Sophie was thanking Harrison, and Nate was chatting idly about some pottery he'd found north of Lawrence, but he was wrapping it up. There wasn't anything important to hear.
DeWitt was on the hook, and Harrison was in place to back their cover story, so it was time to go. He had the car running by the time Parker returned, a cardboard file box under her arms.
"We clear?" Parker shoved the box in the back of the cab.
"Didn't even have to pretend that I was looking to buy the house across the street."
"See?" She clambered up into the seat, shaking hair out of her face. "Every time there's an instant cover, there's never a need to use it. I hate that."
"You would." Pulling away from the curb, Eliot tapped into comms again. "Parker's got the goods. Leaving the DeWitt place now."
Nate grunted indistinctly, and Eliot could hear Hardison making one last pass at the librarian as he left. Something about coming back from the dead. Sophie, however, was paying attention, and responded directly. "See you back at the hotel."
Eliot finally took his comm. unit out, rubbing at his ear.
"You know where we're going?" Parker asked, making her own earpiece vanish into thin air, or possibly a pocket, as she did so.
"Yeah." He stopped himself from ranting about the stupidity of her question. She'd been in the car when Hardison had explained the directions in excruciating detail.
"Oh."
"What do you mean, oh?"
"Before. When he was giving you the directions. You didn't sound like you were listening to him. And you didn't make fun of him while he was flirting with the librarian. You were all," she waved a hand through the air vaguely. "Quiet. Mostly."
"Well it ain't like we're gonna get lost. It's just a straight shot and a left at the gas station." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something flash across her expression, but she said nothing more, not even when he turned into the parking lot.
---
"You have Eliot Spencer's location?"
"I do, and it can be yours. For a price, of course."
"Of course. I wouldn't trust it if it were free."
---
It wasn't like Alec couldn't get a signal in the middle of the Sahara, if he wanted it, but tables at a quiet library seemed more pleasant than a sitting in a cramped rental car. Sitting for another hour with Eliot, who was just a little too stressed to be as bored as he claimed.
Alec thought the space would have done him some good, but judging by Eliot's voice when he was whining about a little noise, his mood hadn't improved since they'd parted ways.
Man needs to do a little reassessment of his priorities. Like he don't know how much worse things could be right now.
Besides, Joan, the librarian, had either been very nice, or very bored. She found his stuff for him, and laughed at his Stargate jokes, once he'd convinced her that his alias was a coincidence. Plus, she was a redhead. Had this entire late-season-Scully meets mid-series-Willow vibe goin' on. Had Eliot been there, he would have got it. Certainly wouldn't have begrudged a man.
Petulant bitch.
The others were leaving, so he finished making his copies and brought his books up to the desk, promising the librarian that if he died over the course of his excavations, he'd come back from the dead and tell her all about it.
He set off to walk the three blocks to the hotel, hooking his cell phone's earpiece into place, in case he found himself having to respond to the comms and didn't want to look like a madman, talking to himself as he headed down the street. There was one update from Nate, who was getting into his car, but the others remained silent.
It was a good sign. It meant there was nothing was going wrong, that there was nothing to worry about. But it was unsettling all the same, and he was relieved to step through the double doors to find Parker and Eliot sitting in the lounge, his backpack waiting in the pile next to theirs.
It didn't last long, though. All it took was Nate's arrival, in character, to inform them of their sleeping arrangements and hand them their room keys. Nate, as the professor, got a single room. Sophie and Parker would share a double, and he'd be crashing with Eliot.
Eliot didn't look thrilled at the news, either, his eyes darting up and away before he leaned down to grab his bag, heading up to their room on the second floor, not bothering to wait. Sophie took one of Parker's bags, offering to show her the way.
"The rooms have numbers on them. I can count," Parker replied, defensively, but she moved to follow.
He leaned down to pick up his pack, weighing the stirring dread at the prospect of sharing space with Eliot against the promise of a functioning shower. Nate, though, was thankfully already running interference.
"Hardison, you got a minute?"
"Yeah, man. What's up?"
"We've got DeWitt on board, and we've got the gear, but now we need to make it happen. You find what we need?"
"Yeah." He hefted his shoulder bag. Give me a bit, I can pull it together enough for a crash course." He looked up towards the front desk, just in time to see Eliot already returning through making a bee line for the door. For the moment, the room would be safely empty.
Nate's eyes followed his, and his face held questions, but he spoke to the group, obviously well aware that the others were probably still on comms. "All right. Grab a shower, do whatever, and we'll meet in my room in three hours."
---
Eliot wandered the streets for a while, eventually finding a park bench to sit and watch traffic. Nodded to the girls who jogged by, but his heart wasn't in it. It wasn't like he could take them back to the hotel, anyway, though he tried not to go too far along that line of thought. He already knew where it would lead, and who would be in the room when it got there.
Three guys walked by, talking enthusiastically about tonight's game. Wasn't starting for a few hours, but it didn't matter. While he was pretty sure he'd noted that the room had cable, Hardison had probably already commandeered the television. Claimed space in their shared territory.
He looked away when he caught himself watching the taller guy as he passed by, the wide shoulders stretching the cotton of his tee shirt. It wasn't like Eliot was going to make a pass at him, after all. He just wished he hadn't noticed in the first place. Made him feel like a perv, sitting here and ogling people.
Eliot wondered if Hardison was wondering where he'd gone. If he'd already assumed the reasons behind it. It was fairly mortifying, when he thought about it, reeking of cowardice for no good reason. If Hardison had figured it out, though, he wasn't coming on the comms to say so.
He hadn't said anything.
Eliot looked at his watch, noting the time. He had about twenty minutes to get back for the pre-game. Maybe, if he was lucky, he wouldn't have to spend the weekend sitting on his ass.
It was enough time to stop in the café on the corner and pick up peace offerings, Nate's coffee and Sophie's tea and Parker's weird orange raspberry mocha thing. They didn't have orange soda. Eliot knew he could've just left it at that, but he found himself dodging into the convenience store across the street.
It was just liquid. Didn't mean anything.
---
Hardison grinned no more widely than usual when Eliot slid the six-pack across the counter before distributing the coffees, but Eliot felt the eyes on him all the same, and wondered if he'd just made things better or worse.
He wished they'd get started already.
"Okay. We can't get access to Bradshaw's ranch until Wednesday. Slight hiccup, but manageable. That gives him a few extra days to go over the site and loot to his heart's content."
"I don't get it," Eliot shook his head. "Shouldn't we get out there to stop him?"
"Only if we want to risk spooking him. We've got time on this."
"So what do we do until then?"
"Sophie and I have some more groundwork to lay with the historical society, and Hardison's on research duty. Parker and Eliot, I want you to lay low. Hang at the hotel, watch cable. Read a book. Do whatever."
Eliot considered the days as they spread out before him, bearing entirely too many hours in a hotel room with Hardison.
"You expecting any trouble over the weekend?"
"No. DeWitt doesn't even have the sense to lock away his stolen goods. He's amateur enough not to have hired security, and not popular enough to have many friends likely to serve as backup."
"If that's the case, there's no reason for me to stick around, then, right?"
"Not especially, no." Nate's expression grew suspicious. "Why?"
"I've got work to do back home," Eliot decided, looking sharply up at Nate to forestall any protests. "Not freelancing. Just have some things around the house and some tomato plants that are threatening to take over the neighborhood."
"Can it wait?"
"It could, but I'd rather not leave it. Look. I'll head out on standby and get tickets back for Tuesday night."
"Alright. Fine," Nate decided, glancing over at Hardison, who was studiously staring at his laptop. "You can have a weekend pass. Parker? You want to go?"
"No. There's a quilt show Sunday." Parker happily waved the flyer that she'd picked up in the lobby. "Can you believe that I've never seen one before?"
---
It was obvious Eliot was trying to escape, but Alec caught up with him in their room. He wasn't stupid, but he decided not to make it easy, he closed the door, leaning against it as he watched Eliot rummaging through his duffel bag. "What's your problem, man?"
Eliot caught his reflection in the mirror by the television, but didn't meet his eyes, looking instead at the parking lot outside the window. "Nothing's wrong."
"Right. You've been acting like you ain't here since we got here."
"There ain't no reason for me to be here on this one." Eliot took some clothing out of his bag and shoved it into one of the drawers, lightening the load he'd have to carry with him.
Alec rolled his eyes and moved past him towards the other bed, sitting down. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, fine by me."
"You looking to get yourself hit?"
Alec snorted. "And yet, I ain't the one runnin' away all scared. That's got to burn."
Eliot's chin was jutting out, defiant. "Scared of what?"
And there it is, Alec realized. He's giving you an opening.
It took him a moment to figure out how to use it. "Bein' stuck in the same room as me. Like knowin' about you means I'm suddenly planning on jumping you."
Eliot didn't turn, didn't even shake the hair out of his eyes, but his breathing was steady. Like he was tamping down the anger before it got dangerous. "It ain't like that." Alec wanted to break the threatening silence, but after a moment, Eliot snorted, relenting. "Ain't used to people knowin' stuff about me that I didn't want them to know." He looked up, then, smirking in annoyance at his own admission and daring Alec to make something of it.
"Know what you mean." Alec dropped his hand to his side. "If it's any consolation, if I hadn't thought you were running a game on Ron, I would've left before you saw me."
"Why?"
"I go in there and blow your cover, we both know how you're going to react. Badly. And you aren't in the running for, ah, winning the world's friendliest person contest. Ain't like I expected you to take finding me there gracefully." He laughed it off, but it was apparent that the comment struck hard.
Eliot flinched, insulted. "You thought I was gonna stomp you?"
Alec grinned without humor, and found himself rubbing at his once-broken wrist. "No offense, man, but it's happened before. Wasn't cool." This isn't where the conversation is supposed to go.
Eliot had noticed the action, but as his eyes moved from Alec's arm, it was obvious that he had no idea how he was supposed to respond. On top of it all, there was the beginnings of something that looked like angry concern brewing in his expression.
This really isn't the issue. Drop it.
"Don't worry about it," Alec shoved his hands into his pockets and decided to go for broke, knowing full well that if he didn't say anything now, he probably never would. "Look. I know it's like poison. But. In the unlikely event that you decide you want to talk about it, I'll listen. Otherwise, it's not my business, and I'm not going to make it anyone else's. Deal?"
Eliot sighed, eyes darting to the door as footsteps passed by in the hallway. He nodded noncommittally, but he'd heard. "I'm still leaving."
Alec shook his head, thinking back to the earlier conversation. "Gardening? For real?"
"Among other things," Eliot answered evasively, because he wasn't the kind of guy that admitted to needing time to think. "But I'll be back. And. I dunno. Maybe we'll talk about it, maybe we won't."
There were probably a thousand ways he could have replied, but he'd already gone too far, probably. "Cool." Alec stepped aside, allowing Eliot access to the door. It was only when Eliot's shoulders lost some of their tension that Alec realized that trapping him inside the room had probably made things worse than they needed to be.
Belatedly, he remembered the paper in his back pocket, which he pulled out and handed over as Eliot passed. Slowing to a halt, Eliot looked at the carefully scrawled flight reservation information for the round trip, and glanced up at Alec, surprise evident on his face.
"Thanks. I owe you."
"No problem," Alec smirked, stepping aside. "Bring back some of those insane tomatoes, and we'll call it even."
Eliot laughed, and made it halfway down the hall before calling out, over his shoulder. "You don't even eat vegetables."
"Then you can call it revenge for making you fly coach," Alec replied, and let the door fall shut.
He was already turning on the television and settling in for the night when he realized he'd forgotten to stop grinning.
---
"I am sure we can come to terms. No transfers, though. I want cash."
"Than you shall receive it. When can you get here?"
"My flight leaves in an hour. I will contact you when I land."
---
Chapter 3