Recipient: Sheryden - Gift Type: Fic - Title: On The Head Of A Pin
Title: On The Head Of A Pin 2/2
Author: YanzaDracan
Giftee: sheryden
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Eliot/Nate; Team
Word Count: 5,723/11,816
Spoilers: (This is critical, as Australia is only just now watching S3.) Post San Lorenzo Job
Warnings: hurt/comfort; a major fan of Eliot-whumping..
Disclaimer: I don't own them. They belong only to themselves, and the people that created them. This is a figment of my imagination and a work of fiction. I'm not making any money. Any mistakes are mine.
Summary: He told them he hurt people, they believed him. Now they know, he's the one that pays.
By week's end Sophie had Byron wrapped around her manicured finger. Eliot could see Burns chomping at the bit. He'd finally caught up with the remaining member of the crew from Nashville and had given the information to Hardison.
"These guys are chumps." Hardison whined. "I got nothin'. No offshore or onshore accounts, like I said nothin'."
"Yer throwin' too big a net, man." Eliot bit back. They probably convert everything to cash. Ya wanna look for safe deposit boxes, storage units, stuff that you can pay cash with few records…low tech stuff."
"Yeah-well-that would be right up yer alley."
"Lucky yer in the van, man." Eliot growled. "Though how come they all have that same funny smell?"
Hardison sputtered his indignation as Parker howled and Nate snickered.
Hardison combed through all the self-storage units and safe deposit boxes in the city, who knew New York had so many places to stash stuff. A day later, the hacker finally found them.
"They used the kid's ID."
"Probably the only one that wouldn't raise red flags." Nate offered. "We'll check it out tonight."
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Eliot enjoyed Bensen's excellent breakfast. Sophie and Portia were going shopping and taking Eliot and Byron along as pack mules.
"Really?" Sophie made a moue of distaste at Eliot.
"Pack mule, Sherpa, porter, footman…whatever you wanna call it it comes down to me totin' your stuff all over New York." He enjoyed his Blue Mountain coffee as the women finished their breakfast.
Insistent knocking had the grifter jerking open her bedroom door. "What so important it couldn't wait a few more minutes?" Sophie's tone was annoyed when she opened her door.
"I didn't think you wanted to talk about this in front of Bensen and Portia." Eliot pushed past.
"Eliot!" She complained.
"As fine as it is, it ain't nothin' I haven't seen, Sophie."
Sophie blushed as he leaned against the bed post.
"Time to step up the game." Sophie gave him a confused look. "Pull out the tragically bereaved mother that sees how much Byron looks like her dead son, how since you have no heirs you're goin' help him through college, maybe change yer will."
"Are you daft?"Sophie asked.
Eliot rolled his eyes. "We need to git these guys movin'. I guarantee ten minutes after you 'change' yer will, one of 'em will be tryin' to kill ya."
"You don't have to sound so happy about it." Sophie snarked.
"Know how much ya love them death scenes." Eliot smirked.
"You think two weeks has been enough time for something that drastic?" Sophie asked.
"That boy would crawl on his belly over hot coals to get a look at your financial statements."
"He really is an innocent…"
"He spends his time caterin' to old people for money and expensive gifts 'cause he's pretty. He's not innocent."
"You should listen, Sophie. Eliot knows all about sellin' yourself to the highest bidder." Hardison snapped.
Silence reigned over the coms.
"Yes…well…I think you're right. I'm sure they'll be something during our shopping trip that will trigger a good dose of melancholia." Sophie kept her tone light while closely watching the shuttered look on Eliot's face.
Hardison looked up at the two people currently glaring at him. Parker's lips pursed and her eyes narrowed as she snatched back the orange soda she'd set down and stomped out of the suite. Nate watched him over the rim of his glass.
"What!? It's the truth."
"Then what motivates him when it's us he's protecting?" Nate asked.
"He was gonna let me drown?"
"He agreed to kill a man so you didn't."
Eliot had heard enough. Pulling the bud out of his ear he turned to leave.
"Eliot!?" Sophie called after him.
Hardison snapped his mouth shut on his next comment. Nate's glare sent a fissure of anxiety down his spine.
"Looks like you were wrong this time, Sophie. Nice try though." Eliot started for the door again.
"Eliot?" She asked again looking at the hand holding his com.
"I'll be downstairs. Don't be too long."
Sophie didn't like this Eliot. He was too calm. There was no flash of temper in his eyes, no grumble or growl, just…resignation. He would leave after this job.
"Sophie?" Nate's worried voice interrupted her thoughts.
"I had made headway." She said pointedly. "But that's torn it. He…it may be beyond repair."
Hardison kept his eyes on his keyboard. They could get another hitter. Maybe that Israeli woman-she was scary, but hot.
"Not like Eliot." Parker smacked him on the back of the head.
Hardison blinked. He didn't think he'd said that out loud.
"Sophie?" Nate's worried voice interrupted her thoughts.
"He's had enough of the hair shirt."
"Eliot doesn't have any hair shirts." Parker frowned.
Hardison watched Nate pale then turn to replenish his glass.
"What…what's she mean?"
"Nothing that will concern you." Nate sounded tired as he went to look out the window.
The hacker noticed Parker concentrating on something.
"Parker, whatcha got?"
"Just some notes." She said flatly.
She found the note with an address and time pinned to her favorite harness and she was still trying to figure out how Eliot got it there, but she would meet him.
Sophie was on her game when shopping for cufflinks for Byron's tux. She'd seen a set like ones she'd bought for her son's 21st birthday. Her mother's grief scene had put a spectacular end to the shopping trip as Portia tried to console her friend…, and that's when Eliot saw it.
Then it was gone as quick as it had appeared. It was the barest of slips, and most people would never have noticed, but it Eliot's job to notice-that glint---gleam-flash that told him Shaw had taken the bait, but the boy's expression had been too smug for the innocent they thought him to be. He thought it was a good thing he and Parker were checking out the address Hardison had found.
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They were scheduled to attend the theater but 'Katherine' begged off saying she was just too distressed to attend. Always dutiful, Byron swore he would stay by her side so she needn't be alone.
Everyone retired to their respective suites giving Eliot a chance to push his bike away from the house before heading to theater where he stashed it out of sight. He took care of the cameras around the outside of the building so once the house lights went down at the start of the play he'd slip out, meet Parker and hopefully be back before Intermission.
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Intermission found him standing next to Portia sipping overpriced swill that they passed off as beer. The address had been a decoy. The minute Parker had opened the door they knew. The smell of abandonment and thin layer of dust over everything had them taking pictures than backing out the way they came being sure to obscure their footprints in the dust settled on the floor.
He'd torn a strip of Hardison for not digging deep enough on Shaw-letting some second class hacker pull one over on him.
"I think this Shaw cat is your brains. Burns is just the front man." Eliot growled as he straightened his tux, and finger combed his hair before he stepped back into Portia's box.
Chastised and humiliated Hardison went after the three men with an attitude he usually reserved for his nemesis, Chaos. It was close to 2am by the time he found them, a safe deposit box and storage unit under the name Samuel Dashiell.
Knowing Eliot's erratic sleep habits, Hardison took a chance the enforcer was still awake.
"Hey E, ya on the line, man?" He kept his voice low in deference to Nate and Parker.
"Yeah."
"I'm sending a file to your phone." He kept talking as his fingers never stopped. "Turns out Mr. Innocent-ain't. He's Brian Sharp, doctoral student in math at CalSci…supposed to be doin' field work on his thesis. His advisor is some math genius named Epps that consults for all the alphabet agencies usin' math to catch the bad guys."
"So what this kid's trying ta prove-ya can use math to be a bad guy?" Eliot cracked.
Sitting on the rooftop patio, he sipped a mug of one of the wonderful teas in Bensen's pantry. He smirked as he heard Parker skittering across the slate roof tiles.
The hacker was speechless. Eliot always did this to him. Somehow the man's brain sifted, sorted and came to a conclusion faster than his algorithms.
"How-you-damn-yeah." He finally gave up.
"So this guy works out, does some kind of martial arts 'cause he's in pretty good shape-lean-not too bulky-runs, maybe swims, uses swords, sticks-no guns, thinks he's too smart for anyone to trip him up."
"Uh…yeah...guess you really didn't need the file." Alec's voice got quiet.
"Validation of the theory, man." Eliot answered just as quiet.
"How'd ya know 'bout the swords?"
"Hands. The calluses are very distinct and in the wrong places for guns." Hardison heard shuffling. "Guess I'll call it a night."
"Eliot?" Alec called softly hoping the older man wouldn't shut him off and out.
"Yeah."
"Look man, about the things I said…" The hacker drew a breath, but before he could say anymore, Eliot cut him off.
"You got it right and wrong." He said quietly. "I used to sell my services to the highest bidder, but there ain't no hitters out there like me. That's why it's Retrieval Specialist. Y'all seem to forget that part."
"You got it, El." Hardison chuckled.
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A charity cocktail party the next evening had Eliot looking for Burns and the seldom seen Tony Garner. Hardison had finally found the accounts for the three men. He even found the accounts of the guy that got arrested in Nashville. He soon had freezes on the accounts hoping to force Sharp's hand. Watching from his vantage point, Eliot saw Sophie and Sharp arrive fashionably late with the other two men and their dates close behind.
Staying at Portia's side through the evening, Eliot watched several heated conversations between the men. He felt the air shift as Sophie sidled up to his elbow.
"Trouble in paradise?"
"They seem to think your beau did something to freeze their accounts."
"That's the problem with today's generation…" Sophie quipped. "No honor among thieves."
An arched eyebrow was Eliot's response as Sophie moved toward her 'date', her face a mask of concern.
"Byron, darling, is something wrong?" Oozed over the coms.
"What? Oh no." A look of calm slipped over his expression. "An associate got some distressing news. We were discussing a few solutions."
"Anything I can do to help?" Her tone turned caring and soothing.
Giving her a warm smile he kissed her knuckles. "You're very sweet, Katherine, but it's just a paperwork snafu… Nothing that can't be cleared up in the morning." He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. "Let's enjoy the party. I'll bet I'm envy of every man here and some of the women, too." He dropped his voice trying to sound naughty.
Eliot rolled his eyes as the rest of the team made catty remarks
"You're a terrible man." Sophie chided as she preened over his words.
After everyone had retired for the night, Eliot walked the house making sure everything was secure when he heard Hardison hiss his name.
"Eliot."
"What?"
"Sharp just sent a text to Burns and Garner to meet him at the warehouse at ten o'clock in the morning for a split."
"Sounds like tyin' up loose ends." Eliot speculated.
"He emptied the accounts of the guy that got caught in Nashville-plus I found a police report says he was killed in jail." Hardison was starting to sound spooked.
"He doesn't want anything comin' back to bite him in the ass when it's time to shop his services to the highest bidder." Eliot paused. "Ya tell Nate?"
"Not yet. Him and Parker are makin' a run on the safe deposit boxes first thing."
"I'll handle Sharp. You can fill Nate in when they get back. Ya got any kinda eyes and ears in the warehouse?"
"There wasn't anything active before, but I'll check."
"Good. Let me know."
As he finished his walkthrough, he mentally pulled up the file he'd read on the three men, and started putting together some ideas of what he could be facing. Best case scenario the men split the money and blow town. Worst case there's some kinda confrontation where one or more are injured or killed and you get the cops involved. Sharp wouldn't want that-hiding bodies should be simple enough for a genius.
By the time he stretched out on his bed, Eliot figured Sharp would kill Burns and Garner and take all the money then stage it to look like a drug deal gone bad. As he forced his mind into silence he hoped Hardison didn't find any surveillance in the warehouse. Like with Moreau's men he really did not want an audience if things got ugly.
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To stave off explanations, Eliot tried to leave before the rest of the house was awake. Slipping into the kitchen he saw coffee and an omelet Bensen had just turned onto the plate. He started to back out of the room until…
"Don't tell me you're walkin' away from one of my omelets." The deep voice came to him though Bensen's attention didn't stray from his task.
Eliot signed, but didn't argue. "I had hoped." He said as he took the plate from the majordomo.
Bensen studied him a moment before he settled across from the smaller man with his own breakfast.
"This endin' today?" The older man asked.
Eliot gave a curt nod as he savored his breakfast.
"Miz Portia goin' be missin' your fine self when you leave."
"She's a very special lady."Eliot agreed. "You should take her to visit Miz Eugenia 'til this all quiets down." He suggested. He stood and carried his plate to the sink. "If you don't see me again, just send my bag with Sophie..Miz Katherine." Eliot didn't look back as he left through the kitchen door.
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He pulled out his ear bud and put his phone on silent before picking the lock on a side door, and sliding into the shadows. He opened his senses to the building. He could smell blood, but he only heard one person moving around. It was probably Sharp since the steps were calm and unhurried. Using the lessons he learned many years ago when Atherton sent him to The Fraternity, he moved around the warehouse until he had a picture of the layout.
Burns and Garner lay in an unused portion of the warehouse, blood pooling under their bodies. He started toward an area with computers and white boards. He watched as Sharp moved back and forth between the two making changes on the boards then typing on the computer. On silent feet Eliot continued to move around the room until he was behind the blond man.
The scuff of shoes on concrete had Eliot and Sharp's heads snapping toward the sound. Eliot wanted to curse long and loud when he recognized Hardison's step. Brian grabbed a kodachi from next to the computer and headed toward the sound. Eliot took an extra moment to plug one of the hacker's wireless whatnots into the computer before shadowing the blond.
The scurry of a rat in the direction of the bodies had Sharp changing directions. Eliot caught Hardison's eye, his glare sending the hacker scurrying quietly out the door, and back to the van. Knowing he needed to give Hardison time to hack through any passwords and firewalls Sharp had in place, Eliot moved back toward the computers and lightly kicked a metal trash can.
Brian instantly changed directions, the Japanese knife gripped tightly in his right hand.
"Ya really should think before ya bring a knife to a gun fight?" Eliot drawled from the shadows.
"Markham?! What are you doing here?!" Brian practically screeched. He paused. "You have a gun?"
"Don't like 'em myself, but you should think about it before you go chargin' in with that little pig sticker." He nodded toward the kodachi. "As to why I'm here, well I like to look out for the interests of my friends, and I don't like what I been seein' these past few weeks."
Out in the van, screens popped in and out as Hardison worked to get into Sharp's computer. His logical mind knew why Eliot had turned off his electronics. Sharp was a genius and a geek. Eliot would take into consideration the man would have safeguards in place against them. The thing he couldn't guard against was Eliot getting one of his little helpers plugged into his system. He just had to do that-then get around---oh no you don't---can't keep me out-and he was into the system, and trying to use the computers speakers to hear what was going on. If something happened to Eliot, Hardison was sure there wasn't anywhere he could hide from the wrath of Nathan Ford. Eliot might not believe anyone but Parker cared about him, but Alec Hardison would have sworn on his Nana's life that Nate was in love with the retrieval specialist. The problem was convincing Eliot.
Just when he was about to pull his hair in frustration, he heard voices and hit the 'record' button.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Markham."
"I'm talkin' about all the people you've pilfered money from since you've been here. A bank account number here, credit card there. Nothin' nobody'd miss for the next thirty to sixty days, and by then you'll be long gone."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Sharp sniffed disdainfully. "Besides the rich and beautiful Katherine Beaumont has assured me the funds for the remainder of my doctoral degree are secure."
Eliot's chuckle was low and dirty. Hardison ground his teeth as he listened to the hitter provoking Sharp. He wanted to yell back through the speakers for Eliot to just punch him and get out of there. His eyes flew to the screen where the information from the computers was copying and cursed slow connections.
"Katherine Beaumont is THE premier grifter on the east coast. Her money comes from all the poor slobs she's conned over the years, and she don't give her money up for nothin'. She was just leadin' you 'round by your dick until some old, rich dude caught her eye."Eliot's grin was all teeth.
Hardison nearly cracked his head on the roof of the van when Nate's voice startled him.
"Parker and I are done here. We got everything we needed. How are Sophie and Eliot?"
"Sophie is fine, but I'm a little concerned about Eliot. He left the house this morning before anyone was up. Bensen said he talked as though he wasn't coming back." Sophie's voice floated into the conversation.
Damn, damn, damn,
"Hardison?"
"Eliot's doin' what he does best."
The clash of metal on metal came out of the speakers.
"What's that noise?" Nate demanded. "Parker can you figure out where…" The mastermind's voice trailed off.
"I'm at the warehouse. Eliot's inside pissin' off Sharp to give me time to download his hard drives."
By the time he finished car doors were slamming and tires screeching. Hardison prayed it was all over but the shouting by the time they all got here.
Fifteen minutes later, the sounds of fighting still came from the speakers. Nate and Parker had swung by and picked up Sophie, but had gotten caught up in the aftermath of an accident.
The download stopped at the same time silence came through the speakers. Not wanting to face Eliot's wrath if he went back in the warehouse alone, Hardison waited.
He was getting fidgety when Eliot didn't come out of the warehouse. Just as he was about to risk the hitter's anger, Nate came squealing around the corner. Before the car slid to a stop, Parker was running for the warehouse. She stopped and pulled her hand back from the door as they noticed smoke coming from the roof vents.
Parker started circling the building, Nate realizing what she was doing chased after her. Hardison looked at Sophie.
"Hope you brought your hikin' shoes."
Hardison called the fire department then he and Sophie moved the vehicles around the block. They searched the outside of the building, and further into the maze of empty warehouses. At a distressed sound from Parker they all headed to her location. A trail of blood led from the warehouse and deeper into the maze, but then disappeared. Nate made a frustrated noise, glad the blood had stopped, but mad because it would make Eliot that much harder to find.
"Nate, we need to leave. There's too many people for us to stay." Sophie urged.
"Eliot…"
"Eliot will find us. We need to go or all Eliot's work will be for naught if they catch us here."
Parker pulled him toward the vehicles. He tried to snatch his arm away, but damn the girl was strong.
"Hang off buildings by my fingertips." She reminded him as she yanked harder.
Hardison booked their flight back to Boston as they drove back to Portia's to pick up Sophie and Eliot's luggage. The expression on Portia and Bensen's faces told the thieves they hadn't seen Eliot. Bensen had had Eliot's rental picked up and his luggage sat next to Sophie's.
Nate handed Portia a list of names and amounts.
"This is the information found on Brian Sharp aka Byron Shaw's computers. He killed his compatriots so there wouldn't be anybody left behind that could come back later to blackmail him."
"Blackmail him for what? He wasn't anybody that I'd ever heard of." Portia asked confused.
"He hoped to follow in the footsteps of his mentor and use his mathematical prowess as a consultant."
"I suppose being a gigolo and embezzler would not look good on a background check." Bensen sneered.
"Where are young Mr. Sharp and his cohorts?" Portia asked.
"He killed Burns and Garner. We're not sure about Sharps. There was a fire in the warehouse where he had his computers, so we're not certain. We've returned the money taken from your friends."Sophie took over from a distracted Nate.
"There was a report on the news about a warehouse fire, but it's still in progress."
"YES!" Parker stared at the television. Fire always excited her. "Good one, Eliot." She whispered.
Before they had to explain, the men grabbed the luggage and herded Parker to the car while Sophie made their goodbyes.
Portia reached out and placed her hand on Sophie's arm.
"Please give Eliot our thanks, and that he's welcome here anytime." She insisted.
"When he returns." Sophie promised as she turned away.
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Deep in Chinatown an ancient apothecary scolded the young man whose skin he was knitting back together.
"You are much out of practice, if you allowed yourself to be marked in such a way, ér zi."He mumbled.
"I was unarmed, wài gong." Eliot grunted back as the needle pierced the thin skin of his side.
"Your friends will look over you until you heal?"
"I'll be fine, wài gong."Eliot huffed out as the Ancient started on the next gash.
"You will be feverish and cranky."
Eliot rolled his eyes. "They won't see any difference."
"Crankier then." He gave the needle a little extra jab.
A surprised yelp had Eliot glaring at the old man who continued unconcerned.
"I thought your leader had come to care for you?"
"He tells us what is convenient for him."Eliot sighed as his torso was swabbed with disinfectant and wrapped.
The apothecary remained silent as he continued to bind the wounds of the youngster who had stepped in the middle of his Triad troubles when they were both younger and less battle weary. He had thought this Nathan Ford could unlock the iron box in which Eliot had placed his heart, but something had damaged the trust between them.
"He holds your secrets?" Eliot straightened when he pulled the binding tighter to support the bruised ribs.
"Yes."
"He keeps them silent?"
"For now."
Confused the old man came around to face the retrieval specialist.
"There is a time limit on these things?"
"It's leverage."
"Why would he need such a lever if he holds your heart?"
"To keep me in place until he no longer needs to." Eliot looked away, but looked up in surprise when his friend began to laugh.
"Oh ér zi, that is so very funny. No one ever kept Eliot Spencer where he did not want to be. He has bruised your heart and you stay out of stubbornness to prove that it does not matter."
Eliot slid off the stool to hide the fact that he was blushing at the truth of his old friend's words. He bowed as deeply as the bandage around his torso would allow.
"Thank you, wài gong for your help."He pulled a clean wife beater and button down shirt out of his pack.
Finally dressed, he carefully shouldered his bag, and laid a red envelope on the stool as he turned for the back door.
"Stubborn child." The elder growled. "Eliot Spencer, you turn yourself back around."Sheepishly the younger man turned back. He handed the hitter a leather pouch. "These will help with the toxins that were on the knife. You should return to your friends until the poison leaves your system..."
"I will be fine." He hung the pouch around his neck, tucking it carefully under his shirt and jacket, and headed out the door.
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As he walked he felt the poison flowing through his system. He stopped at a street vendor for a cup of hot water adding a pinch of the herbs. As he walked, his thoughts chased through his head like mustangs racing across the plains.
In the past three years he had been wary of, awed by, and hated Nathan Ford, and until the job that led to Nate going to prison, he'd trusted him. He'd stayed because Nate had made it clear Eliot was to protect 'his' family, and faithful hound that he was-he'd done it. He'd tried to leave, but Sophie, Parker and Hardison seemed to have a sixth sense about when he was thinking of leaving. Sophie would have Alec find a client, Parker would climb in his lap with soulful eyes and request bizarre food, and he stayed.
Damien Moreau had changed everything-except Parker.
The longer he walked the worse he felt. His eidetic memory pulled up all the facts, symptoms and antidotes for the poison Brian Sharp had used on his kodachi. The herbs he got from the apothecary would keep the poison from killing him, but it still had to flush out of his system. His brain reminded him that disjointed thoughts were part of the poison so he didn't dwell on them-merely acknowledged they were lurking behind his control. His feet stopped, and when he looked up there was a door. An all night diner where he ordered scrambled eggs and dry toast to rest easy on his stomach, and he was able to drink another cup of Grandfather's herbs.
Time ceased to matter as he continued his walk. Movement would flush the poison faster, making him sick faster. *Sumbitch fancied himself a fuckin' ninja.* He was long out of the city, leaving suburbia in the dust when his body started to betray him. Sweat burnt his cuts like acid, his ribs thumping in time with his head.
He forced his mind to clear enough to get his bearings. He was still moving north on what appeared to be the two lane road running parallel to Interstate 95. The lights of a small motel blazed in the dark.
He felt better after a shower and new bandages. Another pinch of herbs in water and then blessed sleep.
The next day was like a death march where sheer determination and stubbornness set one foot ahead of the other. Sweats and chills were a constant companion and the only thing that stayed on his stomach was the herbal tea. He needed to hold out two more days…two more days and the poison should be clear his system.
He'd stopped and had a bowl of soup along with the herbal tea that seemed to be staying down. He'd asked about motels in the area, but the waitress had told him the next one was fifteen miles north. Not sure he had another fifteen miles in him, he bought several bottles of water and a box of crackers.
Thoughts still disjointed-the images of his time with Nate, and with the team rolled through his mind like an antique stereoscope, the images jerky and faded. He stopped at a roadside park and sat at the picnic table with his aching head on his backpack and arms.
Voice rusty from disuse he began talking just to remember what it sounded like. He talked until he lost his battle with consciousness.
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Nate snatched his phone out of his pocket on the first ring. It had been four days since Eliot disappeared, and he was more than a little frantic. He didn't think the retrieval specialist would leave without telling them so they were all having visions of Eliot lying in an alley slowly bleeding to death.
"Eliot!" He nearly shouted.
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Ford, but I am an old friend of his."
"Who is this!? Where's Eliot!?"
His raised voice and Eliot's name brought the other three rushing into the room. Hardison snatched up a keyboard and began tracing the call.
"You can tell your Hardison to not bother tracing the call. Eliot got me a special phone that cannot be traced." The aged voice chuckled.
"What! Naw! That's just not right…How'd Eliot get…Never mind." He put Nate's phone on speaker.
"Eliot said you would not like that." Before he could go on Nate interrupted again.
"Who are you?"
"Eliot calls me Grandfather, and I think of him as one of my own." He paused knowing he had their attention.
"You fixed him?" Parker asked.
"As best I could. He would not stay. Like a wounded wolf he went to ground until he is once again strong. He would not have you see him weak."
"But we're his family." Parker nearly whined.
"Awww. Eliot's mèi mei, Parker. His idea of his place is more guard dog than family."
"I knew there was something wrong with him." She muttered as she grabbed another laptop and started pulling up maps. "How long ago?" She asked.
Three sets of eyes turned to the thief.
"72 hours, on foot, and poisoned."
"Poisoned!" Sophie's voice sounded shrill. "You let him leave."
"No one makes Eliot stay where he doesn't wish to be. He's been taking the antidote, but he's is probably very ill."
"If it helps, I saw him put something in his ear, but I cannot say whether it was turned on or off."
Hardison snatched the keyboard again. "Maybe I can get it to turn on."
"I know where he is!" Parker crowed. "Almost, but we can get close fast then start looking slow." She blushed.
"That'd be good 'cause he's obviously out of range of anything I can do right now." Hardison frowned.
"Get your gear together. We'll leave as soon as everyone's ready. Sophie you might want more country mouse for this trip." Nate advised looking at her skirt and heels.
They heard a chuckle in the background. "It seems Eliot has more of a family than he thought. This is a good thing, I think. Perhaps we will meet one day."
"I look forward to the day he trusts us enough to introduce us." Nate answered. "Thank you for calling me."
The line went dead.
The big sedan pulled into the rest area where a man sized shadow sat at the table. The shadow never moved as four people got out of the car. He hoped they tended their business and moved on. The poison had debilitated him to the point where he would still be sitting at this table tomorrow when things started working properly again-if he was still alive.
Eliot thought he was past the hallucination stage, but apparently the ghosts in his head decided to torture him some more. He'd been rambling to the voices, especially Nate. It was a good thing they were imaginary because he was sure he gotten downright sentimental a couple times, but by then the only voice he heard was Nate's. Hell, he thought he even told the alcoholic mastermind he loved him. Who in their right mind loves an alcoholic? He'd watched that play out too many times to count. But then again he wasn't in his right mind either. Maybe the four shadows coming toward him were mere figments of his imagination, when the wind shifted carrying their unique and well known scents.
They sat at the table, Nate and Parker pressed against his stitched and sore body. With a grunt he laid his head back on his arms.
"Why are you here?"
"We're rescuing you." Parker announced with a poke to his arm.
"I don't NEED rescuing, Parker." He said between gritted teeth.
"Then we're stealing you." Nate said like they had this conversation every day. "I hired these thieves to steal me a retrieval specialist."
"Dime a dozen." Eliot growled as he thought about moving until Parker wrapped herself around his arm.
"Hitters maybe," Hardison said, "but not retrieval specialists."
"Besides we only steal the very best." Sophie pulled out her Countess accent.
"Great." Nate thumped his hands on the table and stood. "Time to head for home."
Ever stubborn Eliot shook off their helping hands. "I got it." He growled.
Parker skipped ahead to the car. "I'll drive."
"NO!" Four voices carried through the night.
They got Eliot settled in the front seat, and with a soft look on his face, Nate faced his family.
"Looks like we stole ourselves a retrieval specialist."
They were all grinning as they settled for the trip home.
~ Fini ~
Author: YanzaDracan
Giftee: sheryden
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Eliot/Nate; Team
Word Count: 5,723/11,816
Spoilers: (This is critical, as Australia is only just now watching S3.) Post San Lorenzo Job
Warnings: hurt/comfort; a major fan of Eliot-whumping..
Disclaimer: I don't own them. They belong only to themselves, and the people that created them. This is a figment of my imagination and a work of fiction. I'm not making any money. Any mistakes are mine.
Summary: He told them he hurt people, they believed him. Now they know, he's the one that pays.
By week's end Sophie had Byron wrapped around her manicured finger. Eliot could see Burns chomping at the bit. He'd finally caught up with the remaining member of the crew from Nashville and had given the information to Hardison.
"These guys are chumps." Hardison whined. "I got nothin'. No offshore or onshore accounts, like I said nothin'."
"Yer throwin' too big a net, man." Eliot bit back. They probably convert everything to cash. Ya wanna look for safe deposit boxes, storage units, stuff that you can pay cash with few records…low tech stuff."
"Yeah-well-that would be right up yer alley."
"Lucky yer in the van, man." Eliot growled. "Though how come they all have that same funny smell?"
Hardison sputtered his indignation as Parker howled and Nate snickered.
Hardison combed through all the self-storage units and safe deposit boxes in the city, who knew New York had so many places to stash stuff. A day later, the hacker finally found them.
"They used the kid's ID."
"Probably the only one that wouldn't raise red flags." Nate offered. "We'll check it out tonight."
-------------------------
Eliot enjoyed Bensen's excellent breakfast. Sophie and Portia were going shopping and taking Eliot and Byron along as pack mules.
"Really?" Sophie made a moue of distaste at Eliot.
"Pack mule, Sherpa, porter, footman…whatever you wanna call it it comes down to me totin' your stuff all over New York." He enjoyed his Blue Mountain coffee as the women finished their breakfast.
Insistent knocking had the grifter jerking open her bedroom door. "What so important it couldn't wait a few more minutes?" Sophie's tone was annoyed when she opened her door.
"I didn't think you wanted to talk about this in front of Bensen and Portia." Eliot pushed past.
"Eliot!" She complained.
"As fine as it is, it ain't nothin' I haven't seen, Sophie."
Sophie blushed as he leaned against the bed post.
"Time to step up the game." Sophie gave him a confused look. "Pull out the tragically bereaved mother that sees how much Byron looks like her dead son, how since you have no heirs you're goin' help him through college, maybe change yer will."
"Are you daft?"Sophie asked.
Eliot rolled his eyes. "We need to git these guys movin'. I guarantee ten minutes after you 'change' yer will, one of 'em will be tryin' to kill ya."
"You don't have to sound so happy about it." Sophie snarked.
"Know how much ya love them death scenes." Eliot smirked.
"You think two weeks has been enough time for something that drastic?" Sophie asked.
"That boy would crawl on his belly over hot coals to get a look at your financial statements."
"He really is an innocent…"
"He spends his time caterin' to old people for money and expensive gifts 'cause he's pretty. He's not innocent."
"You should listen, Sophie. Eliot knows all about sellin' yourself to the highest bidder." Hardison snapped.
Silence reigned over the coms.
"Yes…well…I think you're right. I'm sure they'll be something during our shopping trip that will trigger a good dose of melancholia." Sophie kept her tone light while closely watching the shuttered look on Eliot's face.
Hardison looked up at the two people currently glaring at him. Parker's lips pursed and her eyes narrowed as she snatched back the orange soda she'd set down and stomped out of the suite. Nate watched him over the rim of his glass.
"What!? It's the truth."
"Then what motivates him when it's us he's protecting?" Nate asked.
"He was gonna let me drown?"
"He agreed to kill a man so you didn't."
Eliot had heard enough. Pulling the bud out of his ear he turned to leave.
"Eliot!?" Sophie called after him.
Hardison snapped his mouth shut on his next comment. Nate's glare sent a fissure of anxiety down his spine.
"Looks like you were wrong this time, Sophie. Nice try though." Eliot started for the door again.
"Eliot?" She asked again looking at the hand holding his com.
"I'll be downstairs. Don't be too long."
Sophie didn't like this Eliot. He was too calm. There was no flash of temper in his eyes, no grumble or growl, just…resignation. He would leave after this job.
"Sophie?" Nate's worried voice interrupted her thoughts.
"I had made headway." She said pointedly. "But that's torn it. He…it may be beyond repair."
Hardison kept his eyes on his keyboard. They could get another hitter. Maybe that Israeli woman-she was scary, but hot.
"Not like Eliot." Parker smacked him on the back of the head.
Hardison blinked. He didn't think he'd said that out loud.
"Sophie?" Nate's worried voice interrupted her thoughts.
"He's had enough of the hair shirt."
"Eliot doesn't have any hair shirts." Parker frowned.
Hardison watched Nate pale then turn to replenish his glass.
"What…what's she mean?"
"Nothing that will concern you." Nate sounded tired as he went to look out the window.
The hacker noticed Parker concentrating on something.
"Parker, whatcha got?"
"Just some notes." She said flatly.
She found the note with an address and time pinned to her favorite harness and she was still trying to figure out how Eliot got it there, but she would meet him.
Sophie was on her game when shopping for cufflinks for Byron's tux. She'd seen a set like ones she'd bought for her son's 21st birthday. Her mother's grief scene had put a spectacular end to the shopping trip as Portia tried to console her friend…, and that's when Eliot saw it.
Then it was gone as quick as it had appeared. It was the barest of slips, and most people would never have noticed, but it Eliot's job to notice-that glint---gleam-flash that told him Shaw had taken the bait, but the boy's expression had been too smug for the innocent they thought him to be. He thought it was a good thing he and Parker were checking out the address Hardison had found.
-------------------------
They were scheduled to attend the theater but 'Katherine' begged off saying she was just too distressed to attend. Always dutiful, Byron swore he would stay by her side so she needn't be alone.
Everyone retired to their respective suites giving Eliot a chance to push his bike away from the house before heading to theater where he stashed it out of sight. He took care of the cameras around the outside of the building so once the house lights went down at the start of the play he'd slip out, meet Parker and hopefully be back before Intermission.
-------------------------
Intermission found him standing next to Portia sipping overpriced swill that they passed off as beer. The address had been a decoy. The minute Parker had opened the door they knew. The smell of abandonment and thin layer of dust over everything had them taking pictures than backing out the way they came being sure to obscure their footprints in the dust settled on the floor.
He'd torn a strip of Hardison for not digging deep enough on Shaw-letting some second class hacker pull one over on him.
"I think this Shaw cat is your brains. Burns is just the front man." Eliot growled as he straightened his tux, and finger combed his hair before he stepped back into Portia's box.
Chastised and humiliated Hardison went after the three men with an attitude he usually reserved for his nemesis, Chaos. It was close to 2am by the time he found them, a safe deposit box and storage unit under the name Samuel Dashiell.
Knowing Eliot's erratic sleep habits, Hardison took a chance the enforcer was still awake.
"Hey E, ya on the line, man?" He kept his voice low in deference to Nate and Parker.
"Yeah."
"I'm sending a file to your phone." He kept talking as his fingers never stopped. "Turns out Mr. Innocent-ain't. He's Brian Sharp, doctoral student in math at CalSci…supposed to be doin' field work on his thesis. His advisor is some math genius named Epps that consults for all the alphabet agencies usin' math to catch the bad guys."
"So what this kid's trying ta prove-ya can use math to be a bad guy?" Eliot cracked.
Sitting on the rooftop patio, he sipped a mug of one of the wonderful teas in Bensen's pantry. He smirked as he heard Parker skittering across the slate roof tiles.
The hacker was speechless. Eliot always did this to him. Somehow the man's brain sifted, sorted and came to a conclusion faster than his algorithms.
"How-you-damn-yeah." He finally gave up.
"So this guy works out, does some kind of martial arts 'cause he's in pretty good shape-lean-not too bulky-runs, maybe swims, uses swords, sticks-no guns, thinks he's too smart for anyone to trip him up."
"Uh…yeah...guess you really didn't need the file." Alec's voice got quiet.
"Validation of the theory, man." Eliot answered just as quiet.
"How'd ya know 'bout the swords?"
"Hands. The calluses are very distinct and in the wrong places for guns." Hardison heard shuffling. "Guess I'll call it a night."
"Eliot?" Alec called softly hoping the older man wouldn't shut him off and out.
"Yeah."
"Look man, about the things I said…" The hacker drew a breath, but before he could say anymore, Eliot cut him off.
"You got it right and wrong." He said quietly. "I used to sell my services to the highest bidder, but there ain't no hitters out there like me. That's why it's Retrieval Specialist. Y'all seem to forget that part."
"You got it, El." Hardison chuckled.
-------------------------
A charity cocktail party the next evening had Eliot looking for Burns and the seldom seen Tony Garner. Hardison had finally found the accounts for the three men. He even found the accounts of the guy that got arrested in Nashville. He soon had freezes on the accounts hoping to force Sharp's hand. Watching from his vantage point, Eliot saw Sophie and Sharp arrive fashionably late with the other two men and their dates close behind.
Staying at Portia's side through the evening, Eliot watched several heated conversations between the men. He felt the air shift as Sophie sidled up to his elbow.
"Trouble in paradise?"
"They seem to think your beau did something to freeze their accounts."
"That's the problem with today's generation…" Sophie quipped. "No honor among thieves."
An arched eyebrow was Eliot's response as Sophie moved toward her 'date', her face a mask of concern.
"Byron, darling, is something wrong?" Oozed over the coms.
"What? Oh no." A look of calm slipped over his expression. "An associate got some distressing news. We were discussing a few solutions."
"Anything I can do to help?" Her tone turned caring and soothing.
Giving her a warm smile he kissed her knuckles. "You're very sweet, Katherine, but it's just a paperwork snafu… Nothing that can't be cleared up in the morning." He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. "Let's enjoy the party. I'll bet I'm envy of every man here and some of the women, too." He dropped his voice trying to sound naughty.
Eliot rolled his eyes as the rest of the team made catty remarks
"You're a terrible man." Sophie chided as she preened over his words.
After everyone had retired for the night, Eliot walked the house making sure everything was secure when he heard Hardison hiss his name.
"Eliot."
"What?"
"Sharp just sent a text to Burns and Garner to meet him at the warehouse at ten o'clock in the morning for a split."
"Sounds like tyin' up loose ends." Eliot speculated.
"He emptied the accounts of the guy that got caught in Nashville-plus I found a police report says he was killed in jail." Hardison was starting to sound spooked.
"He doesn't want anything comin' back to bite him in the ass when it's time to shop his services to the highest bidder." Eliot paused. "Ya tell Nate?"
"Not yet. Him and Parker are makin' a run on the safe deposit boxes first thing."
"I'll handle Sharp. You can fill Nate in when they get back. Ya got any kinda eyes and ears in the warehouse?"
"There wasn't anything active before, but I'll check."
"Good. Let me know."
As he finished his walkthrough, he mentally pulled up the file he'd read on the three men, and started putting together some ideas of what he could be facing. Best case scenario the men split the money and blow town. Worst case there's some kinda confrontation where one or more are injured or killed and you get the cops involved. Sharp wouldn't want that-hiding bodies should be simple enough for a genius.
By the time he stretched out on his bed, Eliot figured Sharp would kill Burns and Garner and take all the money then stage it to look like a drug deal gone bad. As he forced his mind into silence he hoped Hardison didn't find any surveillance in the warehouse. Like with Moreau's men he really did not want an audience if things got ugly.
-------------------------
To stave off explanations, Eliot tried to leave before the rest of the house was awake. Slipping into the kitchen he saw coffee and an omelet Bensen had just turned onto the plate. He started to back out of the room until…
"Don't tell me you're walkin' away from one of my omelets." The deep voice came to him though Bensen's attention didn't stray from his task.
Eliot signed, but didn't argue. "I had hoped." He said as he took the plate from the majordomo.
Bensen studied him a moment before he settled across from the smaller man with his own breakfast.
"This endin' today?" The older man asked.
Eliot gave a curt nod as he savored his breakfast.
"Miz Portia goin' be missin' your fine self when you leave."
"She's a very special lady."Eliot agreed. "You should take her to visit Miz Eugenia 'til this all quiets down." He suggested. He stood and carried his plate to the sink. "If you don't see me again, just send my bag with Sophie..Miz Katherine." Eliot didn't look back as he left through the kitchen door.
-------------------------
He pulled out his ear bud and put his phone on silent before picking the lock on a side door, and sliding into the shadows. He opened his senses to the building. He could smell blood, but he only heard one person moving around. It was probably Sharp since the steps were calm and unhurried. Using the lessons he learned many years ago when Atherton sent him to The Fraternity, he moved around the warehouse until he had a picture of the layout.
Burns and Garner lay in an unused portion of the warehouse, blood pooling under their bodies. He started toward an area with computers and white boards. He watched as Sharp moved back and forth between the two making changes on the boards then typing on the computer. On silent feet Eliot continued to move around the room until he was behind the blond man.
The scuff of shoes on concrete had Eliot and Sharp's heads snapping toward the sound. Eliot wanted to curse long and loud when he recognized Hardison's step. Brian grabbed a kodachi from next to the computer and headed toward the sound. Eliot took an extra moment to plug one of the hacker's wireless whatnots into the computer before shadowing the blond.
The scurry of a rat in the direction of the bodies had Sharp changing directions. Eliot caught Hardison's eye, his glare sending the hacker scurrying quietly out the door, and back to the van. Knowing he needed to give Hardison time to hack through any passwords and firewalls Sharp had in place, Eliot moved back toward the computers and lightly kicked a metal trash can.
Brian instantly changed directions, the Japanese knife gripped tightly in his right hand.
"Ya really should think before ya bring a knife to a gun fight?" Eliot drawled from the shadows.
"Markham?! What are you doing here?!" Brian practically screeched. He paused. "You have a gun?"
"Don't like 'em myself, but you should think about it before you go chargin' in with that little pig sticker." He nodded toward the kodachi. "As to why I'm here, well I like to look out for the interests of my friends, and I don't like what I been seein' these past few weeks."
Out in the van, screens popped in and out as Hardison worked to get into Sharp's computer. His logical mind knew why Eliot had turned off his electronics. Sharp was a genius and a geek. Eliot would take into consideration the man would have safeguards in place against them. The thing he couldn't guard against was Eliot getting one of his little helpers plugged into his system. He just had to do that-then get around---oh no you don't---can't keep me out-and he was into the system, and trying to use the computers speakers to hear what was going on. If something happened to Eliot, Hardison was sure there wasn't anywhere he could hide from the wrath of Nathan Ford. Eliot might not believe anyone but Parker cared about him, but Alec Hardison would have sworn on his Nana's life that Nate was in love with the retrieval specialist. The problem was convincing Eliot.
Just when he was about to pull his hair in frustration, he heard voices and hit the 'record' button.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Markham."
"I'm talkin' about all the people you've pilfered money from since you've been here. A bank account number here, credit card there. Nothin' nobody'd miss for the next thirty to sixty days, and by then you'll be long gone."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Sharp sniffed disdainfully. "Besides the rich and beautiful Katherine Beaumont has assured me the funds for the remainder of my doctoral degree are secure."
Eliot's chuckle was low and dirty. Hardison ground his teeth as he listened to the hitter provoking Sharp. He wanted to yell back through the speakers for Eliot to just punch him and get out of there. His eyes flew to the screen where the information from the computers was copying and cursed slow connections.
"Katherine Beaumont is THE premier grifter on the east coast. Her money comes from all the poor slobs she's conned over the years, and she don't give her money up for nothin'. She was just leadin' you 'round by your dick until some old, rich dude caught her eye."Eliot's grin was all teeth.
Hardison nearly cracked his head on the roof of the van when Nate's voice startled him.
"Parker and I are done here. We got everything we needed. How are Sophie and Eliot?"
"Sophie is fine, but I'm a little concerned about Eliot. He left the house this morning before anyone was up. Bensen said he talked as though he wasn't coming back." Sophie's voice floated into the conversation.
Damn, damn, damn,
"Hardison?"
"Eliot's doin' what he does best."
The clash of metal on metal came out of the speakers.
"What's that noise?" Nate demanded. "Parker can you figure out where…" The mastermind's voice trailed off.
"I'm at the warehouse. Eliot's inside pissin' off Sharp to give me time to download his hard drives."
By the time he finished car doors were slamming and tires screeching. Hardison prayed it was all over but the shouting by the time they all got here.
Fifteen minutes later, the sounds of fighting still came from the speakers. Nate and Parker had swung by and picked up Sophie, but had gotten caught up in the aftermath of an accident.
The download stopped at the same time silence came through the speakers. Not wanting to face Eliot's wrath if he went back in the warehouse alone, Hardison waited.
He was getting fidgety when Eliot didn't come out of the warehouse. Just as he was about to risk the hitter's anger, Nate came squealing around the corner. Before the car slid to a stop, Parker was running for the warehouse. She stopped and pulled her hand back from the door as they noticed smoke coming from the roof vents.
Parker started circling the building, Nate realizing what she was doing chased after her. Hardison looked at Sophie.
"Hope you brought your hikin' shoes."
Hardison called the fire department then he and Sophie moved the vehicles around the block. They searched the outside of the building, and further into the maze of empty warehouses. At a distressed sound from Parker they all headed to her location. A trail of blood led from the warehouse and deeper into the maze, but then disappeared. Nate made a frustrated noise, glad the blood had stopped, but mad because it would make Eliot that much harder to find.
"Nate, we need to leave. There's too many people for us to stay." Sophie urged.
"Eliot…"
"Eliot will find us. We need to go or all Eliot's work will be for naught if they catch us here."
Parker pulled him toward the vehicles. He tried to snatch his arm away, but damn the girl was strong.
"Hang off buildings by my fingertips." She reminded him as she yanked harder.
Hardison booked their flight back to Boston as they drove back to Portia's to pick up Sophie and Eliot's luggage. The expression on Portia and Bensen's faces told the thieves they hadn't seen Eliot. Bensen had had Eliot's rental picked up and his luggage sat next to Sophie's.
Nate handed Portia a list of names and amounts.
"This is the information found on Brian Sharp aka Byron Shaw's computers. He killed his compatriots so there wouldn't be anybody left behind that could come back later to blackmail him."
"Blackmail him for what? He wasn't anybody that I'd ever heard of." Portia asked confused.
"He hoped to follow in the footsteps of his mentor and use his mathematical prowess as a consultant."
"I suppose being a gigolo and embezzler would not look good on a background check." Bensen sneered.
"Where are young Mr. Sharp and his cohorts?" Portia asked.
"He killed Burns and Garner. We're not sure about Sharps. There was a fire in the warehouse where he had his computers, so we're not certain. We've returned the money taken from your friends."Sophie took over from a distracted Nate.
"There was a report on the news about a warehouse fire, but it's still in progress."
"YES!" Parker stared at the television. Fire always excited her. "Good one, Eliot." She whispered.
Before they had to explain, the men grabbed the luggage and herded Parker to the car while Sophie made their goodbyes.
Portia reached out and placed her hand on Sophie's arm.
"Please give Eliot our thanks, and that he's welcome here anytime." She insisted.
"When he returns." Sophie promised as she turned away.
-------------------------
Deep in Chinatown an ancient apothecary scolded the young man whose skin he was knitting back together.
"You are much out of practice, if you allowed yourself to be marked in such a way, ér zi."He mumbled.
"I was unarmed, wài gong." Eliot grunted back as the needle pierced the thin skin of his side.
"Your friends will look over you until you heal?"
"I'll be fine, wài gong."Eliot huffed out as the Ancient started on the next gash.
"You will be feverish and cranky."
Eliot rolled his eyes. "They won't see any difference."
"Crankier then." He gave the needle a little extra jab.
A surprised yelp had Eliot glaring at the old man who continued unconcerned.
"I thought your leader had come to care for you?"
"He tells us what is convenient for him."Eliot sighed as his torso was swabbed with disinfectant and wrapped.
The apothecary remained silent as he continued to bind the wounds of the youngster who had stepped in the middle of his Triad troubles when they were both younger and less battle weary. He had thought this Nathan Ford could unlock the iron box in which Eliot had placed his heart, but something had damaged the trust between them.
"He holds your secrets?" Eliot straightened when he pulled the binding tighter to support the bruised ribs.
"Yes."
"He keeps them silent?"
"For now."
Confused the old man came around to face the retrieval specialist.
"There is a time limit on these things?"
"It's leverage."
"Why would he need such a lever if he holds your heart?"
"To keep me in place until he no longer needs to." Eliot looked away, but looked up in surprise when his friend began to laugh.
"Oh ér zi, that is so very funny. No one ever kept Eliot Spencer where he did not want to be. He has bruised your heart and you stay out of stubbornness to prove that it does not matter."
Eliot slid off the stool to hide the fact that he was blushing at the truth of his old friend's words. He bowed as deeply as the bandage around his torso would allow.
"Thank you, wài gong for your help."He pulled a clean wife beater and button down shirt out of his pack.
Finally dressed, he carefully shouldered his bag, and laid a red envelope on the stool as he turned for the back door.
"Stubborn child." The elder growled. "Eliot Spencer, you turn yourself back around."Sheepishly the younger man turned back. He handed the hitter a leather pouch. "These will help with the toxins that were on the knife. You should return to your friends until the poison leaves your system..."
"I will be fine." He hung the pouch around his neck, tucking it carefully under his shirt and jacket, and headed out the door.
-------------------------
As he walked he felt the poison flowing through his system. He stopped at a street vendor for a cup of hot water adding a pinch of the herbs. As he walked, his thoughts chased through his head like mustangs racing across the plains.
In the past three years he had been wary of, awed by, and hated Nathan Ford, and until the job that led to Nate going to prison, he'd trusted him. He'd stayed because Nate had made it clear Eliot was to protect 'his' family, and faithful hound that he was-he'd done it. He'd tried to leave, but Sophie, Parker and Hardison seemed to have a sixth sense about when he was thinking of leaving. Sophie would have Alec find a client, Parker would climb in his lap with soulful eyes and request bizarre food, and he stayed.
Damien Moreau had changed everything-except Parker.
The longer he walked the worse he felt. His eidetic memory pulled up all the facts, symptoms and antidotes for the poison Brian Sharp had used on his kodachi. The herbs he got from the apothecary would keep the poison from killing him, but it still had to flush out of his system. His brain reminded him that disjointed thoughts were part of the poison so he didn't dwell on them-merely acknowledged they were lurking behind his control. His feet stopped, and when he looked up there was a door. An all night diner where he ordered scrambled eggs and dry toast to rest easy on his stomach, and he was able to drink another cup of Grandfather's herbs.
Time ceased to matter as he continued his walk. Movement would flush the poison faster, making him sick faster. *Sumbitch fancied himself a fuckin' ninja.* He was long out of the city, leaving suburbia in the dust when his body started to betray him. Sweat burnt his cuts like acid, his ribs thumping in time with his head.
He forced his mind to clear enough to get his bearings. He was still moving north on what appeared to be the two lane road running parallel to Interstate 95. The lights of a small motel blazed in the dark.
He felt better after a shower and new bandages. Another pinch of herbs in water and then blessed sleep.
The next day was like a death march where sheer determination and stubbornness set one foot ahead of the other. Sweats and chills were a constant companion and the only thing that stayed on his stomach was the herbal tea. He needed to hold out two more days…two more days and the poison should be clear his system.
He'd stopped and had a bowl of soup along with the herbal tea that seemed to be staying down. He'd asked about motels in the area, but the waitress had told him the next one was fifteen miles north. Not sure he had another fifteen miles in him, he bought several bottles of water and a box of crackers.
Thoughts still disjointed-the images of his time with Nate, and with the team rolled through his mind like an antique stereoscope, the images jerky and faded. He stopped at a roadside park and sat at the picnic table with his aching head on his backpack and arms.
Voice rusty from disuse he began talking just to remember what it sounded like. He talked until he lost his battle with consciousness.
-------------------------
Nate snatched his phone out of his pocket on the first ring. It had been four days since Eliot disappeared, and he was more than a little frantic. He didn't think the retrieval specialist would leave without telling them so they were all having visions of Eliot lying in an alley slowly bleeding to death.
"Eliot!" He nearly shouted.
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Ford, but I am an old friend of his."
"Who is this!? Where's Eliot!?"
His raised voice and Eliot's name brought the other three rushing into the room. Hardison snatched up a keyboard and began tracing the call.
"You can tell your Hardison to not bother tracing the call. Eliot got me a special phone that cannot be traced." The aged voice chuckled.
"What! Naw! That's just not right…How'd Eliot get…Never mind." He put Nate's phone on speaker.
"Eliot said you would not like that." Before he could go on Nate interrupted again.
"Who are you?"
"Eliot calls me Grandfather, and I think of him as one of my own." He paused knowing he had their attention.
"You fixed him?" Parker asked.
"As best I could. He would not stay. Like a wounded wolf he went to ground until he is once again strong. He would not have you see him weak."
"But we're his family." Parker nearly whined.
"Awww. Eliot's mèi mei, Parker. His idea of his place is more guard dog than family."
"I knew there was something wrong with him." She muttered as she grabbed another laptop and started pulling up maps. "How long ago?" She asked.
Three sets of eyes turned to the thief.
"72 hours, on foot, and poisoned."
"Poisoned!" Sophie's voice sounded shrill. "You let him leave."
"No one makes Eliot stay where he doesn't wish to be. He's been taking the antidote, but he's is probably very ill."
"If it helps, I saw him put something in his ear, but I cannot say whether it was turned on or off."
Hardison snatched the keyboard again. "Maybe I can get it to turn on."
"I know where he is!" Parker crowed. "Almost, but we can get close fast then start looking slow." She blushed.
"That'd be good 'cause he's obviously out of range of anything I can do right now." Hardison frowned.
"Get your gear together. We'll leave as soon as everyone's ready. Sophie you might want more country mouse for this trip." Nate advised looking at her skirt and heels.
They heard a chuckle in the background. "It seems Eliot has more of a family than he thought. This is a good thing, I think. Perhaps we will meet one day."
"I look forward to the day he trusts us enough to introduce us." Nate answered. "Thank you for calling me."
The line went dead.
The big sedan pulled into the rest area where a man sized shadow sat at the table. The shadow never moved as four people got out of the car. He hoped they tended their business and moved on. The poison had debilitated him to the point where he would still be sitting at this table tomorrow when things started working properly again-if he was still alive.
Eliot thought he was past the hallucination stage, but apparently the ghosts in his head decided to torture him some more. He'd been rambling to the voices, especially Nate. It was a good thing they were imaginary because he was sure he gotten downright sentimental a couple times, but by then the only voice he heard was Nate's. Hell, he thought he even told the alcoholic mastermind he loved him. Who in their right mind loves an alcoholic? He'd watched that play out too many times to count. But then again he wasn't in his right mind either. Maybe the four shadows coming toward him were mere figments of his imagination, when the wind shifted carrying their unique and well known scents.
They sat at the table, Nate and Parker pressed against his stitched and sore body. With a grunt he laid his head back on his arms.
"Why are you here?"
"We're rescuing you." Parker announced with a poke to his arm.
"I don't NEED rescuing, Parker." He said between gritted teeth.
"Then we're stealing you." Nate said like they had this conversation every day. "I hired these thieves to steal me a retrieval specialist."
"Dime a dozen." Eliot growled as he thought about moving until Parker wrapped herself around his arm.
"Hitters maybe," Hardison said, "but not retrieval specialists."
"Besides we only steal the very best." Sophie pulled out her Countess accent.
"Great." Nate thumped his hands on the table and stood. "Time to head for home."
Ever stubborn Eliot shook off their helping hands. "I got it." He growled.
Parker skipped ahead to the car. "I'll drive."
"NO!" Four voices carried through the night.
They got Eliot settled in the front seat, and with a soft look on his face, Nate faced his family.
"Looks like we stole ourselves a retrieval specialist."
They were all grinning as they settled for the trip home.
~ Fini ~