sigrundora - Fic - Welcome to paradise...hell...whatever - Part 2
Title: Welcome to paradise…hell…whatever
Author: jesco0307
Giftee: sigrundora
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Eliot Spencer, James Sterling
Word Count: 7726
Spoilers: mild S5 spoilers (seriously, extremely mild bordering on almost non-existent)
Warnings: No
Disclaimer: Unfortunately none of it is mine or we would be watching S6 now.
Summary: Eliot Spencer didn’t do vacation - unless someone forced him to. Although, Eliot was pretty sure this wasn’t how his team imagined his vacation to be…but then again, neither did he.
Notes:
Buckets of thanks to sweet_lyri for being my beta, but mostly for encouragement and making me feel good about my writing again. You’re the best, hon!!!
Eliot opened the door to his hotel room four hours later. He was exhausted, in a bad mood and struggling to remember why he’d thought it would be a good idea to go after Richardson here of all places and not somewhere colder and less crowded. He could see the appeal of getting lost in a crowd, it made following someone undetected a lot easier, but this many people was certainly an overstatement. They were everywhere and everywhere in masses. He seriously hated crowds.
He stopped in his track when he entered the room - this was definitely not what he’d expected to come back to. Sterling was back in the room, alone. He was pacing, five steps up - stop - turn - five steps back while muttering to himself. He was obviously angry, considering his face was red like he was about to explode any minute and once in a while the silent muttering would change in volume and Eliot could make out words, well curses mostly.
Eliot couldn't contain the grin that threatened to take over his face. He didn't care what Sterling was angry about, the fact that he was angry was more than enough in his book. He stepped completely into the room and closed the door behind him, not slamming it but making enough noise for Sterling to startle.
“Sorry, didn't want to scare you.” Eliot chuckled, not sounding one bit apologetic.
Sterling’s eyes narrowed, knowing exactly Eliot that laughing at him. The next words leaving Eliot’s mouth didn't help either.
Eliot took off his boots and settled on his bed leaning against the headboard. He took the bag he’d brought back and started to pull out food. It wasn't the same as if he’d prepared the food himself, but there wasn't enough time to do that when he was on a mission like this, so he had to make it work somehow.
He looked up at Sterling who still stood rooted in place staring and asked, “So, where’s your team? Lost them on the way from the airport?”
And Sterling exploded. It reminded Eliot of the rant Sterling had gotten himself into when they’d been sitting in that car once and Sterling had gotten agitated about how it wasn't possible to take certain shots. He’d gotten all red in the face - pretty much like he was right now - and started shouting and shouting. If Eliot had cared at some point, he’d feared Sterling would have a heart attack any minute. Not that he cared all that much about Sterling now, but he had a daughter and as much as he disliked Sterling, he was convinced the Interpol man wanted to do right by her. So he raised his hands, palms towards Sterling showing he wasn't about to attack Sterling.
Sterling sank down on his own bed, burrowing his face in his hands for a moment before he stood back up and started pacing again. And ranting. Eliot wasn't sure Sterling wanted to tell him what had gotten him so agitated, but it seemed he couldn't stop himself from pacing and ranting. It was quite the spectacle.
At least this time it was loud enough for Eliot to understand what Sterling was saying, so maybe he did want Eliot to hear it after all.
“Fuck…fuck…this is all fucked up. How the hell could that happen...what the fuck am I supposed to do now...I can’t arrest the guy by myself…fuck…drugs?...that can’t be a coincidence…someone did this…” Sterling suddenly glared at Eliot and yelled, “You did this, didn't you? Admit it; you knew you wouldn't win against us, so you stopped my team!”
Sterling stepped towards Eliot, but was stopped by Eliot’s stare.
“Sterling, I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about. What the hell happened to your team?” Eliot asked confused and added, “And just for the record, there’s no way your team had won!”
Sterling snorted in disbelief, “Yeah, right, keep on dreaming.”
He was still angry, but it didn't seem to be directed at Eliot anymore. Or, at least not all of it like it had been a minute earlier. Eliot couldn't help himself when Sterling started to tell him the whole story. It just kept getting better and better and the grin on his face got broader and broader.
“I arrived at the airport shortly before my team’s plane landed,” Sterling recounted, his eyes getting a faraway look while he relived what had happened only a few hours ago.
Sterling stood on inside the terminal when the plane with his team came to a stop outside the building. They’d taken a private plane to avoid all the trouble flying commercial would evoke considering the amount of equipment they were traveling with. The only reason why Sterling hadn't joined them on the plane had been a meeting he hadn't been able to get out of that had placed him on the other side of the country.
His team entered the building and was followed only a few moments later by a couple of airport employees pushing carts with their luggage. His team took over and made their way towards Sterling and passed some security guards with dogs. Sterling was wondering what they were doing there when all hell broke loose.
The dogs started barking and basically going nuts, almost as if they were about to attack the luggage carts. The guards started to shout commands and one of Sterling’s guys tried to show his badge. Unfortunately, he accidentally revealed his hidden gun and within seconds they whole area crawled with police officers holding his team at gunpoint while the security guards checked their luggage.
Luggage that not only revealed the equipment and clothes his team was supposed to bring, but also bags of drugs - a lot of bags.
All his team’s protest of innocence or Sterling’s promise he wouldn't make their life miserable - they were Interpol agents, damn it - if they’d just keep the drugs but let his team and the equipment go didn't help one bit. The police officers cuffed each and every one of his team, not caring whose luggage the drugs were found in and hauled them off to put them in a cell.
Apparently people here didn't like tourists bringing drugs into their little paradise - not really a surprise - and they especially didn’t like it when that happened during the yearly festivities. Even worse, both the police and the judge apparently wanted to make a clear example of them to show they wouldn't even cut family some slack.
“They put them in a cell!” Sterling exclaimed, the outrage obvious in his voice, “with the promise not to process them until the festivities were over - which is in three days. By then Richardson will have stolen whatever he came for and disappeared. Damn it!”
By the end of the rant Sterling’s frustration was palpable and Eliot couldn't stop himself even if he’d wanted to - something he didn’t. So he laughed. It started as a little chuckle and bubbled over into a loud, hearty laugh.
“Seems to me good old Richardson knew you were coming…what a pity.” Eliot taunted, unable to stop himself, “guess there won’t be any competition of who’ll get to him first…I’ll just drop him off at your doorstep like always!”
Sterling turned towards Eliot with a growl, ready to point all of his anger back at him when he suddenly stopped. He tilted his head to the right, his glare turning speculative. Then he started to speak and Eliot knew right away Sterling was back to being his manipulative self.
“Yeah, no, I don’t think so, Spencer. Oh, he’s gonna get arrested, but we’re gonna catch him together, you and me.” Sterling stated determined.
Eliot snorted, “You're asking me to help you? That’s just plain ass stupid, Sterling. We already tried the “team work” thing before, and it never worked out, remember? Just let me do the work and you’re welcome to take the credit. I don't care.”
“Oh, I know you don’t care. You've never taken credit for any of the guys before, why would you now? Thing is, my boss knows I’m here and I can’t just have you drop someone off for me, this time I have to be involved in this thing. Means we’re doing this together, I don’t mind you taking the lead, but don’t think I’m gonna let you out of my sight for even a minute.” Sterling exclaimed and stopped Eliot from interrupting him - time to slip the bomb, “Don’t even think about trying to ditch me somewhere. You’re working this with me or I’ll not only arrest you but also call Nate…and somehow I doubt you want him to know about your extracurricular activities, right?”
Sterling couldn't stop the smirk from appearing as he watched the expression of pure horror spreading over Eliot’s face. He could almost see the wheels turning in Eliot’s head, but Sterling knew there was no way out for him. He raised his eyebrows in challenge and barely held back the grin from splitting his face in half when he saw the hitter visibly resign before his eyes. It only took a second before only the hard face of a very pissed off Eliot Spencer was left.
“Fine, whatever.” Eliot barked, “But you’ll do as I tell you to, is that clear? And no funny business or your daughter’s gonna be visiting you in the hospital for a long time coming!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Eliot was still wondering how he ended up sitting in a car with James Sterling - again - doing surveillance - again - drinking coffee - again. Although this time he’d picked up the coffee himself, no way in hell was he getting anything in his mouth that came from Sterling - again. No fucking way.
The plan, well Eliot’s original plan, had been to let Richardson do his thing for the next two nights and pick him up after that, thus cumulating as many charges as possible. The fact that Stuart F. Richardson III had gotten a whole team of Interpol agents arrested changed that a little bit.
Eliot just needed three minutes alone with one of the guys who’d handled the team’s luggage at the airport to stare the information they needed out of him, much to his disappointment because being in close proximity to Sterling pissed him off a lot - even more than usual - and he really, really wanted to hit something. Actually, he wanted to hit Sterling but that wasn't an option right now. Or more like not at all any more with him having a daughter and all that. He really wanted to pretend he didn't know about Olivia right now. Although, one punch wouldn't hurt anybody…besides Sterling of course, but since that was the whole point of punching someone…
They assumed Richardson didn't know Sterling hadn't been arrested with his team, otherwise he would have run already. A more than reasonable tip from Sterling had assured that an inquiry about him wouldn't give the searching party any results. Still, experience told both men that Richardson wouldn't sit around waiting for a new team to arrive or the original team being released - a checkup with the airline confirmed the thief had changed his flight to the next day around noon.
Therefor Eliot and Sterling were back in a car together. Eliot tried to avoid thinking about the last time that had happened, because punching Sterling was only on the agenda after they’d caught Richardson. He came close a few times, especially when Sterling started a rant about how a certain way of killing a person wasn't possible for one man alone. At the end of it Sterling was more shouting than ranting, his face beat red and Eliot grinned when he explained how it was very well possible and how he’d actually done it already. Can you spell déjà vu?
Eliot sighed internally; at least it would soon be over.
They’d followed Richardson to three different mansions already, watched him enter and then come out again about an hour later. According to the information Eliot had gathered the past few days there would be one more place for Richardson to go before he’d cleaned out all his targets.
They were finally approaching the last place; it was the biggest one yet, everything about it oozing money and wealth without being too flashy. Eliot’s research had shown that in this case Richardson wouldn't only get expensive pieces, but old ones - the owners came from old money and could claim quite a few famous pieces of jewelry their own for generations. Eliot couldn't be sure they had those pieces here of all the places they owned, but somehow he doubted Richardson would target them if it wasn't the case. Especially knowing Richardson’s little dispute with Sophie had been the result of a very similar target. Of course Sophie had ended up with the necklace in question, essentially stealing it from right under Richardson’s nose.
They watched Richardson enter the house and settled back for another hour of waiting.
Eliot was determined to get this last part of their teamwork over with without losing his cool. If he was honest with himself by now he found Sterling’s rants almost amusing, but he figured he should stop baiting the other man or he ended up suffering a heart attack and although he would be able to dispose of a dead Sterling without problem, he found himself not wanting to explore that option. Weird.
Both men tensed when Richardson left the house only thirty-four minutes after entering - it didn't fit with any of his earlier visits. Eliot and Sterling exchanged a look and could both read the apprehension they were feeling in the other man’s eyes. Something had happened in the house that had forced Richardson to cut his visit short. The way he’d gotten the Interpol team out of the way with probably only a few hours warning that they were coming showed he wasn't necessarily one to panic, and despite his file not saying anything about Richardson being violent, nobody knew for sure how the man would react under the right form and amount of pressure.
The way he hightailed out of the driveway with screeching tires was a sure indicator that something had gone wrong.
He slowed down after a few minutes, probably realizing that he’d attract too much attention otherwise. The lack of sirens seemed to reassure him as well, because Richardson parked his car across the street from his hotel and walked over, most likely to pick up his stuff and disappear.
Eliot decided to follow Richardson carefully into the hotel and grab when he was in his room, but of course good, easy plans had a tendency to fall apart - plans M, N, O and P didn't exist without a reason.
Sterling wasn't really subtle when he showed the doorman at the hotel his badge and Richardson chose that moment to turn around and look at them. Instead of running towards the back entrance, he walked back to Eliot and Sterling, the latter already readying the cuffs to secure their target.
Eliot shook his head, expecting what was happening next out of experience. Nobody of Richardson’s caliber was turning themselves in that easily. What he hadn't counted on was Sterling though.
Eliot took a step back and to the left to bring a little distance between himself and Sterling so he wouldn't have to step around Sterling independent of which way Richardson would start to run. Unfortunately, Sterling chose to move as well, getting directly between Eliot and Richardson. He stepped on Eliot’s foot and stumbled slightly, giving Richardson the opening he needed. Richardson pushed Sterling against Eliot and having lost his footing already, Sterling wasn't able to stop himself from tumbling into Eliot. As bad luck comes a few tourists chose that exact moment to try to enter the hotel and Eliot tripped over a suitcase suddenly appearing behind him. With Sterling unable to steady himself a stumbling, Eliot had no chance to keep upright and they tumbled to the ground in a heap of arms and legs.
Eliot felt a searing pain shoot through his hand and arm when he tried to brace himself from hitting his head on the pavement, but he had no time to check it out, instead he pushed Sterling off of him - and ow, he definitely needed that wrist checked out later - got up and took off in a sprint after Richardson.
He caught up with the thief after three blocks, tackled him - and again, ow! - and then sat on him until Sterling showed up to finally arrest him, this time actually getting the cuffs on the man. It was rather anticlimactic.
A few minutes later the place was crawling with police officers and Eliot took the chance to disappear. There was no need to alert anybody who was in their midst and he didn't trust Sterling completely to not try to arrest him when he had the chance.
He stopped at a hospital he knew on the way back to the hotel and got his wrist checked out and set and went back to the hotel.
Lying on the bed, the adrenalin of the chase finally rushed out of his body and Eliot was surprised how exhausted and alone he suddenly felt. It wasn't the first time he was in this situation, he’d been injured more than enough in his days, but it was the first time this had happened since he’d joined the team. Not so much the being injured part, that was more a daily occasion in some form or the other - hello, being the hitter included hitting and being hit - but the part of being alone with an injury. As much as he tried to dodge Nate’s attempts to get him to see a doctor, protested against Sophie’s mothering and fuzzing, hated Parker’s poking and questioning and pretended to hate every movie or TV show Hardison forced on him - if he was honest with himself, deep inside he enjoyed all of their interferences with the quiet time Eliot claimed was the only thing he needed when he was down for the count. He knew they did it because they cared and although he would never admit it out loud - and he’d been tortured by the best, so there wasn't the point for anybody to try - it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
This time, though, he was alone and he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for himself that he was here alone. And how pathetic was that. Damn the team to crawl under his skin like that.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sterling showed up at 5 am in the morning, still riding high on adrenalin. He’d booked Richardson and even managed to get him to confess his involvement in getting Sterling’s team arrested, so they were free and could finally go home.
“So, when are you flying home?” Sterling inquired while throwing clothes in his duffel bag.
Eliot grunted, not really sure but not really caring either, “Don’t know, can’t fly with the cast for another two days and since the team’s still on vacation for another few days, I figured I could spent them here.”
“You sure you can manage by yourself?” Sterling made a waving motion indicating Eliot’s arm. And where the hell did that question come from? Why on earth was he interested if Spencer managed being handicapped by a broken arm?
Eliot shrugged, “I'll manage, done it before, I'll do it again.”
Sterling zipped up his luggage and nodded sharply - because they should never forget they were enemies. He received a short nod back, holstered his bag and reached out to open the door…and hesitated.
And cursed.
And dropped the bag again and turned around.
“You know, I’m glad of all the people out of your team I bumped into you. Out of those lunatics and maniacs, you’re the only one I would even want on my team…you know, if you weren't a criminal…so…I guess I could give you a hand if you’d want me to…”
The little smile that threatened to break through on Eliot's face? Definitely worth staying….
Author: jesco0307
Giftee: sigrundora
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Eliot Spencer, James Sterling
Word Count: 7726
Spoilers: mild S5 spoilers (seriously, extremely mild bordering on almost non-existent)
Warnings: No
Disclaimer: Unfortunately none of it is mine or we would be watching S6 now.
Summary: Eliot Spencer didn’t do vacation - unless someone forced him to. Although, Eliot was pretty sure this wasn’t how his team imagined his vacation to be…but then again, neither did he.
Notes:
Buckets of thanks to sweet_lyri for being my beta, but mostly for encouragement and making me feel good about my writing again. You’re the best, hon!!!
Eliot opened the door to his hotel room four hours later. He was exhausted, in a bad mood and struggling to remember why he’d thought it would be a good idea to go after Richardson here of all places and not somewhere colder and less crowded. He could see the appeal of getting lost in a crowd, it made following someone undetected a lot easier, but this many people was certainly an overstatement. They were everywhere and everywhere in masses. He seriously hated crowds.
He stopped in his track when he entered the room - this was definitely not what he’d expected to come back to. Sterling was back in the room, alone. He was pacing, five steps up - stop - turn - five steps back while muttering to himself. He was obviously angry, considering his face was red like he was about to explode any minute and once in a while the silent muttering would change in volume and Eliot could make out words, well curses mostly.
Eliot couldn't contain the grin that threatened to take over his face. He didn't care what Sterling was angry about, the fact that he was angry was more than enough in his book. He stepped completely into the room and closed the door behind him, not slamming it but making enough noise for Sterling to startle.
“Sorry, didn't want to scare you.” Eliot chuckled, not sounding one bit apologetic.
Sterling’s eyes narrowed, knowing exactly Eliot that laughing at him. The next words leaving Eliot’s mouth didn't help either.
Eliot took off his boots and settled on his bed leaning against the headboard. He took the bag he’d brought back and started to pull out food. It wasn't the same as if he’d prepared the food himself, but there wasn't enough time to do that when he was on a mission like this, so he had to make it work somehow.
He looked up at Sterling who still stood rooted in place staring and asked, “So, where’s your team? Lost them on the way from the airport?”
And Sterling exploded. It reminded Eliot of the rant Sterling had gotten himself into when they’d been sitting in that car once and Sterling had gotten agitated about how it wasn't possible to take certain shots. He’d gotten all red in the face - pretty much like he was right now - and started shouting and shouting. If Eliot had cared at some point, he’d feared Sterling would have a heart attack any minute. Not that he cared all that much about Sterling now, but he had a daughter and as much as he disliked Sterling, he was convinced the Interpol man wanted to do right by her. So he raised his hands, palms towards Sterling showing he wasn't about to attack Sterling.
Sterling sank down on his own bed, burrowing his face in his hands for a moment before he stood back up and started pacing again. And ranting. Eliot wasn't sure Sterling wanted to tell him what had gotten him so agitated, but it seemed he couldn't stop himself from pacing and ranting. It was quite the spectacle.
At least this time it was loud enough for Eliot to understand what Sterling was saying, so maybe he did want Eliot to hear it after all.
“Fuck…fuck…this is all fucked up. How the hell could that happen...what the fuck am I supposed to do now...I can’t arrest the guy by myself…fuck…drugs?...that can’t be a coincidence…someone did this…” Sterling suddenly glared at Eliot and yelled, “You did this, didn't you? Admit it; you knew you wouldn't win against us, so you stopped my team!”
Sterling stepped towards Eliot, but was stopped by Eliot’s stare.
“Sterling, I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about. What the hell happened to your team?” Eliot asked confused and added, “And just for the record, there’s no way your team had won!”
Sterling snorted in disbelief, “Yeah, right, keep on dreaming.”
He was still angry, but it didn't seem to be directed at Eliot anymore. Or, at least not all of it like it had been a minute earlier. Eliot couldn't help himself when Sterling started to tell him the whole story. It just kept getting better and better and the grin on his face got broader and broader.
“I arrived at the airport shortly before my team’s plane landed,” Sterling recounted, his eyes getting a faraway look while he relived what had happened only a few hours ago.
Sterling stood on inside the terminal when the plane with his team came to a stop outside the building. They’d taken a private plane to avoid all the trouble flying commercial would evoke considering the amount of equipment they were traveling with. The only reason why Sterling hadn't joined them on the plane had been a meeting he hadn't been able to get out of that had placed him on the other side of the country.
His team entered the building and was followed only a few moments later by a couple of airport employees pushing carts with their luggage. His team took over and made their way towards Sterling and passed some security guards with dogs. Sterling was wondering what they were doing there when all hell broke loose.
The dogs started barking and basically going nuts, almost as if they were about to attack the luggage carts. The guards started to shout commands and one of Sterling’s guys tried to show his badge. Unfortunately, he accidentally revealed his hidden gun and within seconds they whole area crawled with police officers holding his team at gunpoint while the security guards checked their luggage.
Luggage that not only revealed the equipment and clothes his team was supposed to bring, but also bags of drugs - a lot of bags.
All his team’s protest of innocence or Sterling’s promise he wouldn't make their life miserable - they were Interpol agents, damn it - if they’d just keep the drugs but let his team and the equipment go didn't help one bit. The police officers cuffed each and every one of his team, not caring whose luggage the drugs were found in and hauled them off to put them in a cell.
Apparently people here didn't like tourists bringing drugs into their little paradise - not really a surprise - and they especially didn’t like it when that happened during the yearly festivities. Even worse, both the police and the judge apparently wanted to make a clear example of them to show they wouldn't even cut family some slack.
“They put them in a cell!” Sterling exclaimed, the outrage obvious in his voice, “with the promise not to process them until the festivities were over - which is in three days. By then Richardson will have stolen whatever he came for and disappeared. Damn it!”
By the end of the rant Sterling’s frustration was palpable and Eliot couldn't stop himself even if he’d wanted to - something he didn’t. So he laughed. It started as a little chuckle and bubbled over into a loud, hearty laugh.
“Seems to me good old Richardson knew you were coming…what a pity.” Eliot taunted, unable to stop himself, “guess there won’t be any competition of who’ll get to him first…I’ll just drop him off at your doorstep like always!”
Sterling turned towards Eliot with a growl, ready to point all of his anger back at him when he suddenly stopped. He tilted his head to the right, his glare turning speculative. Then he started to speak and Eliot knew right away Sterling was back to being his manipulative self.
“Yeah, no, I don’t think so, Spencer. Oh, he’s gonna get arrested, but we’re gonna catch him together, you and me.” Sterling stated determined.
Eliot snorted, “You're asking me to help you? That’s just plain ass stupid, Sterling. We already tried the “team work” thing before, and it never worked out, remember? Just let me do the work and you’re welcome to take the credit. I don't care.”
“Oh, I know you don’t care. You've never taken credit for any of the guys before, why would you now? Thing is, my boss knows I’m here and I can’t just have you drop someone off for me, this time I have to be involved in this thing. Means we’re doing this together, I don’t mind you taking the lead, but don’t think I’m gonna let you out of my sight for even a minute.” Sterling exclaimed and stopped Eliot from interrupting him - time to slip the bomb, “Don’t even think about trying to ditch me somewhere. You’re working this with me or I’ll not only arrest you but also call Nate…and somehow I doubt you want him to know about your extracurricular activities, right?”
Sterling couldn't stop the smirk from appearing as he watched the expression of pure horror spreading over Eliot’s face. He could almost see the wheels turning in Eliot’s head, but Sterling knew there was no way out for him. He raised his eyebrows in challenge and barely held back the grin from splitting his face in half when he saw the hitter visibly resign before his eyes. It only took a second before only the hard face of a very pissed off Eliot Spencer was left.
“Fine, whatever.” Eliot barked, “But you’ll do as I tell you to, is that clear? And no funny business or your daughter’s gonna be visiting you in the hospital for a long time coming!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Eliot was still wondering how he ended up sitting in a car with James Sterling - again - doing surveillance - again - drinking coffee - again. Although this time he’d picked up the coffee himself, no way in hell was he getting anything in his mouth that came from Sterling - again. No fucking way.
The plan, well Eliot’s original plan, had been to let Richardson do his thing for the next two nights and pick him up after that, thus cumulating as many charges as possible. The fact that Stuart F. Richardson III had gotten a whole team of Interpol agents arrested changed that a little bit.
Eliot just needed three minutes alone with one of the guys who’d handled the team’s luggage at the airport to stare the information they needed out of him, much to his disappointment because being in close proximity to Sterling pissed him off a lot - even more than usual - and he really, really wanted to hit something. Actually, he wanted to hit Sterling but that wasn't an option right now. Or more like not at all any more with him having a daughter and all that. He really wanted to pretend he didn't know about Olivia right now. Although, one punch wouldn't hurt anybody…besides Sterling of course, but since that was the whole point of punching someone…
They assumed Richardson didn't know Sterling hadn't been arrested with his team, otherwise he would have run already. A more than reasonable tip from Sterling had assured that an inquiry about him wouldn't give the searching party any results. Still, experience told both men that Richardson wouldn't sit around waiting for a new team to arrive or the original team being released - a checkup with the airline confirmed the thief had changed his flight to the next day around noon.
Therefor Eliot and Sterling were back in a car together. Eliot tried to avoid thinking about the last time that had happened, because punching Sterling was only on the agenda after they’d caught Richardson. He came close a few times, especially when Sterling started a rant about how a certain way of killing a person wasn't possible for one man alone. At the end of it Sterling was more shouting than ranting, his face beat red and Eliot grinned when he explained how it was very well possible and how he’d actually done it already. Can you spell déjà vu?
Eliot sighed internally; at least it would soon be over.
They’d followed Richardson to three different mansions already, watched him enter and then come out again about an hour later. According to the information Eliot had gathered the past few days there would be one more place for Richardson to go before he’d cleaned out all his targets.
They were finally approaching the last place; it was the biggest one yet, everything about it oozing money and wealth without being too flashy. Eliot’s research had shown that in this case Richardson wouldn't only get expensive pieces, but old ones - the owners came from old money and could claim quite a few famous pieces of jewelry their own for generations. Eliot couldn't be sure they had those pieces here of all the places they owned, but somehow he doubted Richardson would target them if it wasn't the case. Especially knowing Richardson’s little dispute with Sophie had been the result of a very similar target. Of course Sophie had ended up with the necklace in question, essentially stealing it from right under Richardson’s nose.
They watched Richardson enter the house and settled back for another hour of waiting.
Eliot was determined to get this last part of their teamwork over with without losing his cool. If he was honest with himself by now he found Sterling’s rants almost amusing, but he figured he should stop baiting the other man or he ended up suffering a heart attack and although he would be able to dispose of a dead Sterling without problem, he found himself not wanting to explore that option. Weird.
Both men tensed when Richardson left the house only thirty-four minutes after entering - it didn't fit with any of his earlier visits. Eliot and Sterling exchanged a look and could both read the apprehension they were feeling in the other man’s eyes. Something had happened in the house that had forced Richardson to cut his visit short. The way he’d gotten the Interpol team out of the way with probably only a few hours warning that they were coming showed he wasn't necessarily one to panic, and despite his file not saying anything about Richardson being violent, nobody knew for sure how the man would react under the right form and amount of pressure.
The way he hightailed out of the driveway with screeching tires was a sure indicator that something had gone wrong.
He slowed down after a few minutes, probably realizing that he’d attract too much attention otherwise. The lack of sirens seemed to reassure him as well, because Richardson parked his car across the street from his hotel and walked over, most likely to pick up his stuff and disappear.
Eliot decided to follow Richardson carefully into the hotel and grab when he was in his room, but of course good, easy plans had a tendency to fall apart - plans M, N, O and P didn't exist without a reason.
Sterling wasn't really subtle when he showed the doorman at the hotel his badge and Richardson chose that moment to turn around and look at them. Instead of running towards the back entrance, he walked back to Eliot and Sterling, the latter already readying the cuffs to secure their target.
Eliot shook his head, expecting what was happening next out of experience. Nobody of Richardson’s caliber was turning themselves in that easily. What he hadn't counted on was Sterling though.
Eliot took a step back and to the left to bring a little distance between himself and Sterling so he wouldn't have to step around Sterling independent of which way Richardson would start to run. Unfortunately, Sterling chose to move as well, getting directly between Eliot and Richardson. He stepped on Eliot’s foot and stumbled slightly, giving Richardson the opening he needed. Richardson pushed Sterling against Eliot and having lost his footing already, Sterling wasn't able to stop himself from tumbling into Eliot. As bad luck comes a few tourists chose that exact moment to try to enter the hotel and Eliot tripped over a suitcase suddenly appearing behind him. With Sterling unable to steady himself a stumbling, Eliot had no chance to keep upright and they tumbled to the ground in a heap of arms and legs.
Eliot felt a searing pain shoot through his hand and arm when he tried to brace himself from hitting his head on the pavement, but he had no time to check it out, instead he pushed Sterling off of him - and ow, he definitely needed that wrist checked out later - got up and took off in a sprint after Richardson.
He caught up with the thief after three blocks, tackled him - and again, ow! - and then sat on him until Sterling showed up to finally arrest him, this time actually getting the cuffs on the man. It was rather anticlimactic.
A few minutes later the place was crawling with police officers and Eliot took the chance to disappear. There was no need to alert anybody who was in their midst and he didn't trust Sterling completely to not try to arrest him when he had the chance.
He stopped at a hospital he knew on the way back to the hotel and got his wrist checked out and set and went back to the hotel.
Lying on the bed, the adrenalin of the chase finally rushed out of his body and Eliot was surprised how exhausted and alone he suddenly felt. It wasn't the first time he was in this situation, he’d been injured more than enough in his days, but it was the first time this had happened since he’d joined the team. Not so much the being injured part, that was more a daily occasion in some form or the other - hello, being the hitter included hitting and being hit - but the part of being alone with an injury. As much as he tried to dodge Nate’s attempts to get him to see a doctor, protested against Sophie’s mothering and fuzzing, hated Parker’s poking and questioning and pretended to hate every movie or TV show Hardison forced on him - if he was honest with himself, deep inside he enjoyed all of their interferences with the quiet time Eliot claimed was the only thing he needed when he was down for the count. He knew they did it because they cared and although he would never admit it out loud - and he’d been tortured by the best, so there wasn't the point for anybody to try - it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
This time, though, he was alone and he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for himself that he was here alone. And how pathetic was that. Damn the team to crawl under his skin like that.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sterling showed up at 5 am in the morning, still riding high on adrenalin. He’d booked Richardson and even managed to get him to confess his involvement in getting Sterling’s team arrested, so they were free and could finally go home.
“So, when are you flying home?” Sterling inquired while throwing clothes in his duffel bag.
Eliot grunted, not really sure but not really caring either, “Don’t know, can’t fly with the cast for another two days and since the team’s still on vacation for another few days, I figured I could spent them here.”
“You sure you can manage by yourself?” Sterling made a waving motion indicating Eliot’s arm. And where the hell did that question come from? Why on earth was he interested if Spencer managed being handicapped by a broken arm?
Eliot shrugged, “I'll manage, done it before, I'll do it again.”
Sterling zipped up his luggage and nodded sharply - because they should never forget they were enemies. He received a short nod back, holstered his bag and reached out to open the door…and hesitated.
And cursed.
And dropped the bag again and turned around.
“You know, I’m glad of all the people out of your team I bumped into you. Out of those lunatics and maniacs, you’re the only one I would even want on my team…you know, if you weren't a criminal…so…I guess I could give you a hand if you’d want me to…”
The little smile that threatened to break through on Eliot's face? Definitely worth staying….