The Pregnant Job, Leverage/SPN, PG-13 -CRACK MPREG (sorry) fic
Fandom: Leverage/SPN
Pairing/Characters: Eliot, Sam, Dean, Nate, Hardison, Sophie, Parker (implied Eliot/Everyone)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Mpreg (sorry)
Word Count: 2157
Summary: Five months ago Eliot Spencer worked a job. Only it didn't go as planned. And now he has to pay the price.
A/Ns & Warnings: This is all because charlies_dragon is a dirty, filthy enabler type person who was craving mpreg earlier today on twitter...and I teased her...and then got further enabled by certain other twitterers (*glares at havenward, shannonrita, badfalcon. It is in no way my fault. It also doesn't really have an ending. It just sort of stopped there.
There are things Eliot Spencer simply knows are not possible. No way. No how. No nothing.
And yet, he finds himself nearly believing that maybe…because he's pacing the floor of his apartment at three in the morning, sick to his stomach and unable to go back to sleep after throwing up. Again. For the tenth straight morning…or night since he doesn't really consider it morning before the sun comes up and he's had his coffee. It happened at almost the same time every night, whether he was just going to bed or sound asleep.
See, he could laugh it off when the crazy brothers told him that the statue was cursed. He could make faces and deny ever touching it. He was wearing gloves after all. He'd never admit that he couldn't help it. It was so…big. And Eliot kind of liked big.
And he could pretend he was just worked up after the fight when he'd hooked up with the older one behind the museum for sex that was nearly the same as fighting…and he could shake off the whole thing with the younger one because…well…he was so…big. And Eliot kind of liked big.
But none of that could account for the waitress at the diner the next morning, or the clerk at the Truck stop, or the way he shoved Hardison into the supply closet when he got back, or goaded Nate into shoving him into the wall later, or how he took Sophie out for a drink and ended up in the back seat of her car. It didn't make sense of his knocking on Parker's door at midnight, or fucking his way through a bar or three before morning.
It had finally worn off…whatever it was…and it had been months. Months. Five to be exact. Five months since he'd run across a job that should have been simple; retrieve a rare statue of an African fertility god from a rinky dink museum in a town north of LA.
He didn't believe in curses or magic or any of that bullshit that guy Dean had been going on about. Truth be told, he just got tired of the one up-manship of stealing the damn thing back every few hours and let the bastard take it. He was that hot for it, Eliot wasn't going to keep fighting, not for the small paycheck he'd be getting.
Sam had been a little more believable, but only up to the point of a witch who was pissed off at men cursing the damn thing to turn it's traditional power of granting a woman who touches it fertility, to making men who touch it pregnant.
Pregnant.
Right.
Eliot certainly didn't believe that.
Well, except for the weird symptoms following his fuck-fest across California. Like the whole morning sickness thing. And there was his stomach. He stopped his pacing to lift his t-shirt, rubbing his hand over the odd little pouchy place on his traditionally flat stomach.
He'd done everything he could think of to make it go away. Doubled his exercise routine, crunches, running, weights…but it would go away. He wasn't even going to think about the way he'd teared up at the briefing a few days ago. He'd played it off, rubbing his eyes furiously like they were reacting to Sophie's new perfume and beating it the hell out of the conference room to go to the bathroom and fucking cry. Like a girl. Like a pregnant girl.
But the job had been one with kids. And it got to him. Little kids. Helpless and alone and relying on a man who was using them and abusing his privilege and Eliot had nearly killed the mark when he'd gotten his hands on him.
Before Eliot doubled over and lost his dinner.
And now, even Eliot is starting to wonder if maybe those two brothers hadn't been so full of shit. He stares down at the number and paces some more. It's way too early to call them, not that he's calling them…because calling them is like admitting way too the fuck much. Because this is just…a virus.
Or something.
It's just the "or something" part kind of has him worried.
Still, it's barely 8am and Eliot's closing his eyes and dialing, holding his breath. "Hey. It's Eliot." He doesn't feel slighted when he has to explain who he is (and no that sniffle is not because he's crying…he's not fucking crying), because it isn't like they had a thing…it was…whatever the hell it was. "So…about that thing you told me…the statue…"
He hears Dean groan on the other end. "Don't tell me you touched it. You told me you didn't touch it. You said you wore gloves."
"I did." Eliot says indignantly. "Except for when I…I mean come on, you saw that thing." How anyone could look at it and not touch is beyond him.
"Shit. You stroked it didn't you? Holy shit. Sam, he stroked the damn thing."
"I didn't stroke. I touched. That's all."
"And then we…" Dean's voice trailed off. "I should have known. Where are you?"
"LA."
"We can be there tomorrow."
Eliot isn't hiding, not exactly, but he when he goes into the office he locks himself in his office and he doesn't answer his phone when Nate calls, or the door when Hardison knocks.
But then the phone rings and it isn't Nate, and the knock on his door isn't Hardison and Eliot opens the door to Dean glowering at him and Sam smiling kind of painfully. Dean pushes past him and Sam sort of slinks and it's obvious they're both uncomfortable.
"So…"
Eliot closes the door and rolls his eyes. "So explain this to me again?"
Sam pulls a hand through his hair. "Well, the statue dates back to somewhere around 100 AD, from South Africa. The legend says that it would bestow fertility on women who touched its…wood."
Dean chuckles at Sam's chosen euphemism, but Eliot is not in a laughing mood. "Right, anyway, middle of the last century, a witch in Florida received it as a gift from her suitor who wished to seduce her, not realizing it did more than make a woman receptive to a little hanky panky. She got pregnant, he ran, she flew into a furious rage and cursed the statue to turn it's magic onto the men who touched it."
"I'm not saying I believe any of that." Eliot starts, wiping his face, but before he can say anything else, Dean's hand is on his stomach, shoving his t-shirt up.
"Son of a bitch." Dean exclaims. "You touched it. You told me you didn't. You lied to me."
"Settle down Dean." Sam says. "You're one to talk about touching things you shouldn't. He once touched a vase dedicated to a goddess from Sumeria and had his dick--"
"Sam!" Dean cuts him off. "Can we please focus on this issue and not air my dirty laundry in front of the pregnant man?"
"I am not pregnant." Eliot denies, stepping back.
"No? Then why are we here?"
"My brother is just upset because we already destroyed the statue."
"And why is that a problem?" Eliot asks, though he's pretty sure he doesn't want to know the answer.
Sam sighs heavily while Dean stalks away, waving his hands in the air. "Well….we can't undo it now."
"Can't undo…what?"
Sam grins sheepishly and points. "I mean…I'm not sure that we could anyway, but with the statue gone we really can't."
"So…what? I have to be pregnant?"
"Well, it's that or abortion." Dean says from across the room. "We can probably find someone who's done it That statue had been around a while. More than one man has ended up like you. I mean, we were after it for a reason."
"Maybe Bobby." Sam says, nodding. "He might know who dealt with that hunter. Either way, the only way that baby's coming out is surgically."
"Whoa, slow down. I'm not even ready to believe there is a baby, let alone start talking about surgery." But Dean's already on the phone and Sam is staring down at him all concerned and kinda soft like.
"I…I'm sorry." Sam says, crossing his arms and shifting uncomfortably. "I mean…If I'd known, I wouldn't have…but you seemed to like it."
Eliot held up his hands to stop him, but Sam didn't stop. "I'm going to help you get through this though, whatever you decide to do. I take responsibility for my actions."
"Oh god." Eliot turns away, but runs into Dean.
"Wait a minute, your actions? Bobby, I'll call you back." Dean hangs up the phone. "What do you mean, your actions. I was the one who--"
"Just kill me now." Eliot turns away, hides his face, because it's all just a little too much.
The office door bursts open just then, Nate and Hardison falling through with Parker and Sophie hanging on the frame. Nate manages to get to his feet first. "Eliot?"
Eliot groans and turns away. "This isn't happening."
"I know we ain't heard right. I mean, Eliot isn't…because men don't…" Hardison is shrugging.
Parker is across the room, her hand on Eliot's stomach, her eyes wide.
"He is! Sophie, feel this." Sophie's frowning a little, but she joins Parker, hands on his stomach until he shoves them both away, frowning so hard his face hurts.
"Men don't…I am right about this, aren't I?"
"Normally men don't." Nate agrees.
"We're they eavesdropping?" Dean asks as Eliot backs away.
"Welcome to my life." Eliot says, dropping into his chair.
"You look awfully proud of yourself Parker." Sophie says as Parker beams.
"I always knew I was special…see?"
"You, but I was the one who…" Sophie blushes and trails off.
"No. No. If anyone did this it was me." Hardison says, lifting his chin.
"Clearly this is getting out of hand. Eliot and I-"
Eliot turns away from Nate only to find Sam and Dean on either side of him. "Are you telling me that you slept with my brother?" Dean asks.
"Dean?"
"Sam?"
"Both of you." Eliot says quietly, but it's enough to stop them. He looks up, first at Dean, then Sam. The whole room is suddenly quiet. "Dean first, Sam second. And third…and fourth." He's blushing now, all the way down to his toes. He really did kinda like big. "And then I think Anne was her name, and Vinnie at the truck stop, and Hardison, Nate, Sophie, Parker…after that it gets a little fuzzy…pretty much anyone and everyone I could get alone over the next forty eight hours."
For a long time they all just stare at him.
"You dog." Dean says smirking, finally breaking the ice.
"Slut." Hardison says, crossing his arms.
Sam on the other hand looks a little hurt. "Come on now, this isn't Eliot's fault. Except for how he touched the statue and told us he didn't. And then slept with all of us and is now pregnant."
"Do I even need to be here for this?" Eliot asks.
"So what you're telling us is, Eliot got his hands on a cursed fertility statue and one of us, or any number of strangers, knocked him up?" Parker asks, crossing her arms and frowning at Eliot.
"Something like that."
"I don't think a woman can get a man pregnant." Nate says thoughtfully.
"What?" Eliot stands up. "Seriously?"
"Well, if men can't get pregnant to begin with, but Eliot is, then it stands to reason that the person responsible could be female." Sophie says.
"I don't believe this." Eliot is pretty sure he's out of his mind at this point. A bad dream. Well, parts of it weren't bad. The sex was…No. Focus. He whistles to stop the rambling arguing that is beginning to make his head spin. "Let's forget who's fault this is and somebody just tell me how to fix it."
"Fix it?" Parker asks, looking at him horrified. "As in…kill it?"
"I didn't say that."
"Well, look at his lifestyle, is it responsible of him to bring a child into this?" Sophie asks.
"Somebody just kill me now."
"We're going to be rich." Parker exclaims. "TV movies, book deals…it's better than stealing that-"
"No!" Both Dean and Sam exclaim at once, joining the fray as Eliot's team discusses him and his baby and who knows what else without him. In fact, they hardly even know he's there. So Eliot does the only sane thing he's done all day.
He slips out the door of his office with Dean's cell phone in his hand. He doesn't speak until he's out of the office, down on the street. Then he hits redial and when the phone connects and a rough voice answers, Eliot nods. "Bobby? My name is Eliot Spencer and I'm a friend of Dean's. The one he called you about earlier. He said you might be able to help."
Pairing/Characters: Eliot, Sam, Dean, Nate, Hardison, Sophie, Parker (implied Eliot/Everyone)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Mpreg (sorry)
Word Count: 2157
Summary: Five months ago Eliot Spencer worked a job. Only it didn't go as planned. And now he has to pay the price.
A/Ns & Warnings: This is all because charlies_dragon is a dirty, filthy enabler type person who was craving mpreg earlier today on twitter...and I teased her...and then got further enabled by certain other twitterers (*glares at havenward, shannonrita, badfalcon. It is in no way my fault. It also doesn't really have an ending. It just sort of stopped there.
There are things Eliot Spencer simply knows are not possible. No way. No how. No nothing.
And yet, he finds himself nearly believing that maybe…because he's pacing the floor of his apartment at three in the morning, sick to his stomach and unable to go back to sleep after throwing up. Again. For the tenth straight morning…or night since he doesn't really consider it morning before the sun comes up and he's had his coffee. It happened at almost the same time every night, whether he was just going to bed or sound asleep.
See, he could laugh it off when the crazy brothers told him that the statue was cursed. He could make faces and deny ever touching it. He was wearing gloves after all. He'd never admit that he couldn't help it. It was so…big. And Eliot kind of liked big.
And he could pretend he was just worked up after the fight when he'd hooked up with the older one behind the museum for sex that was nearly the same as fighting…and he could shake off the whole thing with the younger one because…well…he was so…big. And Eliot kind of liked big.
But none of that could account for the waitress at the diner the next morning, or the clerk at the Truck stop, or the way he shoved Hardison into the supply closet when he got back, or goaded Nate into shoving him into the wall later, or how he took Sophie out for a drink and ended up in the back seat of her car. It didn't make sense of his knocking on Parker's door at midnight, or fucking his way through a bar or three before morning.
It had finally worn off…whatever it was…and it had been months. Months. Five to be exact. Five months since he'd run across a job that should have been simple; retrieve a rare statue of an African fertility god from a rinky dink museum in a town north of LA.
He didn't believe in curses or magic or any of that bullshit that guy Dean had been going on about. Truth be told, he just got tired of the one up-manship of stealing the damn thing back every few hours and let the bastard take it. He was that hot for it, Eliot wasn't going to keep fighting, not for the small paycheck he'd be getting.
Sam had been a little more believable, but only up to the point of a witch who was pissed off at men cursing the damn thing to turn it's traditional power of granting a woman who touches it fertility, to making men who touch it pregnant.
Pregnant.
Right.
Eliot certainly didn't believe that.
Well, except for the weird symptoms following his fuck-fest across California. Like the whole morning sickness thing. And there was his stomach. He stopped his pacing to lift his t-shirt, rubbing his hand over the odd little pouchy place on his traditionally flat stomach.
He'd done everything he could think of to make it go away. Doubled his exercise routine, crunches, running, weights…but it would go away. He wasn't even going to think about the way he'd teared up at the briefing a few days ago. He'd played it off, rubbing his eyes furiously like they were reacting to Sophie's new perfume and beating it the hell out of the conference room to go to the bathroom and fucking cry. Like a girl. Like a pregnant girl.
But the job had been one with kids. And it got to him. Little kids. Helpless and alone and relying on a man who was using them and abusing his privilege and Eliot had nearly killed the mark when he'd gotten his hands on him.
Before Eliot doubled over and lost his dinner.
And now, even Eliot is starting to wonder if maybe those two brothers hadn't been so full of shit. He stares down at the number and paces some more. It's way too early to call them, not that he's calling them…because calling them is like admitting way too the fuck much. Because this is just…a virus.
Or something.
It's just the "or something" part kind of has him worried.
Still, it's barely 8am and Eliot's closing his eyes and dialing, holding his breath. "Hey. It's Eliot." He doesn't feel slighted when he has to explain who he is (and no that sniffle is not because he's crying…he's not fucking crying), because it isn't like they had a thing…it was…whatever the hell it was. "So…about that thing you told me…the statue…"
He hears Dean groan on the other end. "Don't tell me you touched it. You told me you didn't touch it. You said you wore gloves."
"I did." Eliot says indignantly. "Except for when I…I mean come on, you saw that thing." How anyone could look at it and not touch is beyond him.
"Shit. You stroked it didn't you? Holy shit. Sam, he stroked the damn thing."
"I didn't stroke. I touched. That's all."
"And then we…" Dean's voice trailed off. "I should have known. Where are you?"
"LA."
"We can be there tomorrow."
Eliot isn't hiding, not exactly, but he when he goes into the office he locks himself in his office and he doesn't answer his phone when Nate calls, or the door when Hardison knocks.
But then the phone rings and it isn't Nate, and the knock on his door isn't Hardison and Eliot opens the door to Dean glowering at him and Sam smiling kind of painfully. Dean pushes past him and Sam sort of slinks and it's obvious they're both uncomfortable.
"So…"
Eliot closes the door and rolls his eyes. "So explain this to me again?"
Sam pulls a hand through his hair. "Well, the statue dates back to somewhere around 100 AD, from South Africa. The legend says that it would bestow fertility on women who touched its…wood."
Dean chuckles at Sam's chosen euphemism, but Eliot is not in a laughing mood. "Right, anyway, middle of the last century, a witch in Florida received it as a gift from her suitor who wished to seduce her, not realizing it did more than make a woman receptive to a little hanky panky. She got pregnant, he ran, she flew into a furious rage and cursed the statue to turn it's magic onto the men who touched it."
"I'm not saying I believe any of that." Eliot starts, wiping his face, but before he can say anything else, Dean's hand is on his stomach, shoving his t-shirt up.
"Son of a bitch." Dean exclaims. "You touched it. You told me you didn't. You lied to me."
"Settle down Dean." Sam says. "You're one to talk about touching things you shouldn't. He once touched a vase dedicated to a goddess from Sumeria and had his dick--"
"Sam!" Dean cuts him off. "Can we please focus on this issue and not air my dirty laundry in front of the pregnant man?"
"I am not pregnant." Eliot denies, stepping back.
"No? Then why are we here?"
"My brother is just upset because we already destroyed the statue."
"And why is that a problem?" Eliot asks, though he's pretty sure he doesn't want to know the answer.
Sam sighs heavily while Dean stalks away, waving his hands in the air. "Well….we can't undo it now."
"Can't undo…what?"
Sam grins sheepishly and points. "I mean…I'm not sure that we could anyway, but with the statue gone we really can't."
"So…what? I have to be pregnant?"
"Well, it's that or abortion." Dean says from across the room. "We can probably find someone who's done it That statue had been around a while. More than one man has ended up like you. I mean, we were after it for a reason."
"Maybe Bobby." Sam says, nodding. "He might know who dealt with that hunter. Either way, the only way that baby's coming out is surgically."
"Whoa, slow down. I'm not even ready to believe there is a baby, let alone start talking about surgery." But Dean's already on the phone and Sam is staring down at him all concerned and kinda soft like.
"I…I'm sorry." Sam says, crossing his arms and shifting uncomfortably. "I mean…If I'd known, I wouldn't have…but you seemed to like it."
Eliot held up his hands to stop him, but Sam didn't stop. "I'm going to help you get through this though, whatever you decide to do. I take responsibility for my actions."
"Oh god." Eliot turns away, but runs into Dean.
"Wait a minute, your actions? Bobby, I'll call you back." Dean hangs up the phone. "What do you mean, your actions. I was the one who--"
"Just kill me now." Eliot turns away, hides his face, because it's all just a little too much.
The office door bursts open just then, Nate and Hardison falling through with Parker and Sophie hanging on the frame. Nate manages to get to his feet first. "Eliot?"
Eliot groans and turns away. "This isn't happening."
"I know we ain't heard right. I mean, Eliot isn't…because men don't…" Hardison is shrugging.
Parker is across the room, her hand on Eliot's stomach, her eyes wide.
"He is! Sophie, feel this." Sophie's frowning a little, but she joins Parker, hands on his stomach until he shoves them both away, frowning so hard his face hurts.
"Men don't…I am right about this, aren't I?"
"Normally men don't." Nate agrees.
"We're they eavesdropping?" Dean asks as Eliot backs away.
"Welcome to my life." Eliot says, dropping into his chair.
"You look awfully proud of yourself Parker." Sophie says as Parker beams.
"I always knew I was special…see?"
"You, but I was the one who…" Sophie blushes and trails off.
"No. No. If anyone did this it was me." Hardison says, lifting his chin.
"Clearly this is getting out of hand. Eliot and I-"
Eliot turns away from Nate only to find Sam and Dean on either side of him. "Are you telling me that you slept with my brother?" Dean asks.
"Dean?"
"Sam?"
"Both of you." Eliot says quietly, but it's enough to stop them. He looks up, first at Dean, then Sam. The whole room is suddenly quiet. "Dean first, Sam second. And third…and fourth." He's blushing now, all the way down to his toes. He really did kinda like big. "And then I think Anne was her name, and Vinnie at the truck stop, and Hardison, Nate, Sophie, Parker…after that it gets a little fuzzy…pretty much anyone and everyone I could get alone over the next forty eight hours."
For a long time they all just stare at him.
"You dog." Dean says smirking, finally breaking the ice.
"Slut." Hardison says, crossing his arms.
Sam on the other hand looks a little hurt. "Come on now, this isn't Eliot's fault. Except for how he touched the statue and told us he didn't. And then slept with all of us and is now pregnant."
"Do I even need to be here for this?" Eliot asks.
"So what you're telling us is, Eliot got his hands on a cursed fertility statue and one of us, or any number of strangers, knocked him up?" Parker asks, crossing her arms and frowning at Eliot.
"Something like that."
"I don't think a woman can get a man pregnant." Nate says thoughtfully.
"What?" Eliot stands up. "Seriously?"
"Well, if men can't get pregnant to begin with, but Eliot is, then it stands to reason that the person responsible could be female." Sophie says.
"I don't believe this." Eliot is pretty sure he's out of his mind at this point. A bad dream. Well, parts of it weren't bad. The sex was…No. Focus. He whistles to stop the rambling arguing that is beginning to make his head spin. "Let's forget who's fault this is and somebody just tell me how to fix it."
"Fix it?" Parker asks, looking at him horrified. "As in…kill it?"
"I didn't say that."
"Well, look at his lifestyle, is it responsible of him to bring a child into this?" Sophie asks.
"Somebody just kill me now."
"We're going to be rich." Parker exclaims. "TV movies, book deals…it's better than stealing that-"
"No!" Both Dean and Sam exclaim at once, joining the fray as Eliot's team discusses him and his baby and who knows what else without him. In fact, they hardly even know he's there. So Eliot does the only sane thing he's done all day.
He slips out the door of his office with Dean's cell phone in his hand. He doesn't speak until he's out of the office, down on the street. Then he hits redial and when the phone connects and a rough voice answers, Eliot nods. "Bobby? My name is Eliot Spencer and I'm a friend of Dean's. The one he called you about earlier. He said you might be able to help."