The Pregnant Job, 2 days Later, Leverage/SPN, PG-13
Fandom: Leverage/SPN
Pairing/Characters: Eliot, Sam, Dean, Nate, Hardison, Sophie, Parker (implied Eliot/Everyone)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Mpreg (sorry) crack
Word Count: 431
Summary: Wee little time stamp for angels3.
A/Ns & Warnings: It's all fun and games until someone breaks a dick. No dicks broken in this piece, just...um...pregnant Eliot.
"You know they're all going crazy looking for you, right?"
Eliot looked up as Bobby came into the motel room with bags from at least two different stores and a take out place.
"Let 'em look." Eliot reached for the bags, because he was starving. In fact, since he'd given in and admitted to the whole pregnancy thing, he couldn't get enough to eat.
"They're worried about you, Son."
"Ain't your son, Bobby." He opened the jar of peanut butter, sticking two fingers in and pulling out a glob of peanut butter that he set about licking off his fingers while his other hand was trying to get into the potato chips.
Bobby's hand slapped his as he made this disgusted sound. "Didn't your mama teach you no manners?"
"Did you get the anchovies?"
"Got everything on your damn list...well, except for the pistachio ice cream. Couldn't find it."
"No ice cream?"
Bobby handed him the now open potato chips. "And if I were you I'd watch how much of this you eat or you'll blow up like a balloon.
"Oh, you know what would go really good with this peanut butter? Hot sauce. You don't happen to have any hot sauce do you?"
Bobby snorted and walked across the room, pulling a nearly empty bottle of hot sauce out of his own duffle and tossing it across. "So you gonna tell me?"
Eliot frown at him. "Tell ya' what?" he asked around a mouthful of potato chips and peanut butter.
"Who the father is?"
Eliot shrugged. "Don't really know…though…"
"What?"
"Well, I was with the Sam more than the rest."
"More don't always mean better." Bobby observed. "It only takes one." He sat back on the bed, observing the younger man as he ate. "You eat more like Dean."
Eliot held up two peanut butter smeared fingers. "Only because you've never seen Hardison eat." He put the hand down and looked down at his stomach. "This is really happening, isn't it."
Bobby shook his head. "Oh, yeah it is. Teach you to go around touching shit that don't belong to you won't it."
Eliot frowned at him. "I'm a thief, Bobby. I don't think that's a lesson I'm gonna learn anytime soon. Beside him his cell phone started vibrating again. He ignored it and Bobby's started. "Come on-"
Bobby answered the phone. "Yeah, he's here. Nope. See you then."
"I don't want to-"
"I ain't your baby sitter and I ain't your momma, boy."
Eliot groaned. His momma. What in the world was he going to tell his momma?
Pairing/Characters: Eliot, Sam, Dean, Nate, Hardison, Sophie, Parker (implied Eliot/Everyone)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Mpreg (sorry) crack
Word Count: 431
Summary: Wee little time stamp for angels3.
A/Ns & Warnings: It's all fun and games until someone breaks a dick. No dicks broken in this piece, just...um...pregnant Eliot.
"You know they're all going crazy looking for you, right?"
Eliot looked up as Bobby came into the motel room with bags from at least two different stores and a take out place.
"Let 'em look." Eliot reached for the bags, because he was starving. In fact, since he'd given in and admitted to the whole pregnancy thing, he couldn't get enough to eat.
"They're worried about you, Son."
"Ain't your son, Bobby." He opened the jar of peanut butter, sticking two fingers in and pulling out a glob of peanut butter that he set about licking off his fingers while his other hand was trying to get into the potato chips.
Bobby's hand slapped his as he made this disgusted sound. "Didn't your mama teach you no manners?"
"Did you get the anchovies?"
"Got everything on your damn list...well, except for the pistachio ice cream. Couldn't find it."
"No ice cream?"
Bobby handed him the now open potato chips. "And if I were you I'd watch how much of this you eat or you'll blow up like a balloon.
"Oh, you know what would go really good with this peanut butter? Hot sauce. You don't happen to have any hot sauce do you?"
Bobby snorted and walked across the room, pulling a nearly empty bottle of hot sauce out of his own duffle and tossing it across. "So you gonna tell me?"
Eliot frown at him. "Tell ya' what?" he asked around a mouthful of potato chips and peanut butter.
"Who the father is?"
Eliot shrugged. "Don't really know…though…"
"What?"
"Well, I was with the Sam more than the rest."
"More don't always mean better." Bobby observed. "It only takes one." He sat back on the bed, observing the younger man as he ate. "You eat more like Dean."
Eliot held up two peanut butter smeared fingers. "Only because you've never seen Hardison eat." He put the hand down and looked down at his stomach. "This is really happening, isn't it."
Bobby shook his head. "Oh, yeah it is. Teach you to go around touching shit that don't belong to you won't it."
Eliot frowned at him. "I'm a thief, Bobby. I don't think that's a lesson I'm gonna learn anytime soon. Beside him his cell phone started vibrating again. He ignored it and Bobby's started. "Come on-"
Bobby answered the phone. "Yeah, he's here. Nope. See you then."
"I don't want to-"
"I ain't your baby sitter and I ain't your momma, boy."
Eliot groaned. His momma. What in the world was he going to tell his momma?