next mish installment
Title: The Cliff-top Caper
Ficverse: Leverage & The Princess Bride
Series: The Princess Bride Job, 2/18
Rating: Gen / PG-13
Length: 1600 ish / 29,500 ish
Characters: Team Leverage, Westley, Inigo
Summary: Fencing. Fighting. Torture. Revenge. Giants. Monsters. Chases. Escapes. True love. Miracles. And hitter, hacker, grifter, thief, mastermind.
Notes: This is just ridiculously fun to write.
Disclaimers: Yeah. None of it's mine, apart from the idea to mix'n'match, and in abstract that's not mine either. I am now directly lifting some lines from the PB screenplay, as if anybody can't tell.
Spoilers: Nothing for Leverage, a whole lot for The Princess Bride. Is there anyone who is unspoiled for that movie?
Concrit: go for it
Previously, on "The Princess Bride Job":
Chapter One
Chapter Two
The light of dawn revealed a truly remarkable geographical feature to the rather daunted group in the pirate ship’s skiff.
“The Cliffs of Insanity,” said Westley unenthusiastically. “They’re heading straight for them. I did hope it wouldn’t come to that.”
“They’re landing.” They were so close to the other ship they were almost on top of it, but Sophie still raised the telescope disbelievingly. “What are they doing? Is that a rope?”
Westley took the telescope for a moment. “They’re climbing. Clever.”
Nate looked over at Eliot, who rolled his eyes. “Alright. Is there a way around?”
Westley shook his head. “Not for miles. We’d lose them.”
Sophie couldn’t stop watching the group onshore. “That giant’s carrying them! All of them!”
Even Nate paused at that, taking his own turn on the telescope. “Huh. Hardison? Can you track them?”
Hardison, nested in a temporary command center back on the Revenge, took a minute to reply. “~Sorry, Nate. Satellites take time.~”
Westley brought the skiff up to the ship’s landing-place smoothly, and Nate sighed. Nothing for it. “Time to go old school, then. Parker?”
But Parker had already grabbed her lightweight, portable rig, vaulted off the skiff, and was climbing like a cat. Hampered by the bulk strapped across her shoulders, she nevertheless began gaining on the bizarre conglomerate of people strapped together, rising by the strength of the giant’s arms alone.
“Good. Be careful. Eliot?”
Eliot squinted up at the cliffs towering above them like bad hyperbole. “You’re kidding, right?”
“You’re the retrieval -”
“Specialist. That’s right,” he snapped. “Not an idiot!”
“Please,” said Westley quietly, but with a wealth of frustration simmering underneath, earning a measuring look from Eliot.
“I -” Eliot cast around, but knew he’d already lost. “I am wearing tights,” he huffed, gesturing at the clothes they'd borrowed from the pirates in order to blend in.
“~Tight tights,~” came Hardison’s snicker, which was ignored.
“~These aren’t bad for climbing, actually,~” said Parker, her breathing a little labored. “~I like the mask.~”
“And this stupid sword, and these boots - and you want me to climb that?”
Nate looked at him. “You want Parker up there with those guys, alone?”
Eliot glared back, then snatched the mask Nate was holding out, settling it in place before jumping off the skiff.
“Have fun.”
Eliot did not waste breath on a reply.
“Alright, we can’t do much more here. Let’s get some distance and see what’s going on.”
Westley took them further out from shore, where they could monitor the progress of the climbers. Parker had almost caught the group up, but was cautiously staying far enough below that she could avoid anything they tried to drop on her. Eliot was slower, but also steadily gaining on them. The occasional muttered invective sounded across coms, which Nate pretended he couldn’t hear.
“Okay, Parker, they’re almost at the top. They’ll cut the rope. Can you -”
“~Yeah, I’m fine. Eliot, grab rock.~”
There was a grunt as he gained a tiny ledge on the cliff face, a few moments before the heavy rope slithered wickedly away.
“~Okay, good,~” said Parker. “~Stay where you are.~”
Eliot cleared his throat meaningfully. “~Anyone want to tell me what’s happening?~”
“You’re doing good. Parker will find a place to anchor her rig, and lower the line. She’s not far. Just hold tight.”
There was a thoughtful silence, as though Eliot was running through all the options of what he could yell at Nate. Then he said, “~No kidding.~”
Westley was watching through the telescope. “They’re leaving. Wait - one of them’s staying behind. Looks like the swordsman.”
“Hardison, do you have maps of the terrain? Is there anywhere Parker can go where he can’t get at her?”
“~Can you send me some pictures of where they are?... Okay, let me see. Yeah, if she edges to, uh, her right, there should be a kind of - ~”
Faintly, over Parker’s com, they heard a Spanish accent shout, “~Hello there!~”
There was a pause of a few seconds, then Parker called back. “~What?~”
“~Slow going?~”
“~Not really. I’m just trying to find a way up where you can’t kill me.~”
There was a long silence where the man seemed to be digesting this. “~You are ... are you a woman?~”
This threw Parker off her stride. “~Uh ... yeah? So?~”
The confusion was audible in the Spaniard’s voice, even over coms. “~But you are wearing the clothing of a man. We thought you were a man!~” He sounded panicked. “~I cannot kill a woman like this!~”
Eliot was not finding his ledge getting any more comfortable, perched three quarters of the way up the cliff. “~Parker! Get on with it!~”
“~Nate?~” she asked. “~What do I do?~”
“Er....” Nate glanced at Sophie, who’d taken the telescope and was observing the man through it. She shrugged and nodded. “It sounds okay. He ... looks like he means it. Tell him there’s a guy coming, see if we can get both of you up.”
“~I’ve got a man here that you can kill,~” she called out earnestly. “~Only you have to let me up first.~”
The Spaniard considered this. “~That sounds fair.~”
Parker quickly scaled the last few yards, then braced the rig against the rock that had anchored the rope. The Spaniard watched the proceedings with interest.
“Here, I’m lowering the harness. Tell when you’ve got it.”
For a long moment there was only the sound of gulls, far below them. Then, “~Got it. Hang on.~”
His breath rasped loud as he scrabbled to put on the harness, without losing his hold on the cliff, before he indicated he was set.
“Okay, this might take a few minutes. It’s going to winch you up. Keep the line clear of any jags.”
“I do not mean to pry, but who are you people?”
Parker looked at the Spaniard, startled. “Oh. Er -”
“~Tell him we’re people with similar interests to his,~” Nate supplied.
“We’re people with similar interests.”
“With Guilder?” He sounded surprised.
“Er ... yes?” she hedged.
“~Westley, what is he talking about?~” asked Nate.
“~I don’t know. What would Guilder have to do with this? Unless...~” the pirate trailed off.
“~Unless what?~”
“~Well - unless it isn’t a kidnapping.~”
Nate caught on. “~You mean, Guilder trying to provoke war?~”
“~They are old enemies,~” said Sophie thoughtfully. “~The only reason they haven’t fought lately is because their last war nearly bankrupted both of them.~”
“~And they’ve recovered somewhat in the last decade. Yeah.~”
“~Which means they will kill her,~” said Westley flatly.
“~Alright, guys, speed it up. Get the princess back. We’re going to try and find out what’s going on.~”
Meanwhile, the Spaniard had clearly had something on his mind. “I have to ask - do you have a man with six fingers on his right hand?”
Parker, no stranger to strange questions, only shrugged. “No. Why?”
“My father was slaughtered by a six-fingered man.”
“Oh.”
The Spaniard seemed to get a little lost in the past, musing, “He was a great swordmaker, my father.”
“Okay.”
“The six-fingered man came and requested a special sword.”
“Makes sense.”
“My father slaved a year before he was done.”
“Uh huh,” said Parker, checking the line and peering over the side.
“The six-fingered man returned and demanded it, but at one-tenth his promised price. My father refused. Without a word, the six-fingered man slashed him through the heart. I loved my father, so, naturally, I challenged his murderer to a duel....” He frowned. “I failed.”
This seemed to catch Parker’s attention. “How old were you?”
He started at her question, almost having forgotten he was not alone with the memory of his father’s killer. “I was eleven years old.”
“Oh. Yeah,” said Parker brightly, as though she’d solved a puzzle. “Should have used explosives.”
He looked at her with an expression suggesting that he’d never thought of that. Then he shrugged. “I dedicated my life to the study of fencing.” His slight smile carried a vicious promise. “So the next time we meet, I will not fail. I will go up to the six-fingered man and say, ‘Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’”
“~Did you get that, Hardison?~” asked Nate.
“~Yeah. Inigo Montoya.... Not a lot of info on him. Swordmaster. Itinerant sword-for-hire. Last known associate ... Vizzini, no first name.~”
“~Well, it’s somewhere to start.~”
Parker looked at Inigo incredulously. “So ... you haven’t found the guy yet?”
Inigo got a little defensive. “No.”
“Wow. You should get on that.”
“I’ve been trying for twenty years.”
Parker frowned. “Just by asking people if they know him?”
“I am starting to lose confidence,” Inigo admitted.
She considered this. “Have you tried google?”
A scrape and a growl interrupted his reply, and announced Eliot pulling himself over the lip of the cliff. He rolled to his feet, unhooked from the line with a violent jerk, took two steps, punched Inigo, and stepped over his unconscious body to lean heavily against the boulder.
After a few deep breaths, he straightened and turned to Parker. “Okay. Let’s go steal this damn princess back.”
Chapter Three
Ficverse: Leverage & The Princess Bride
Series: The Princess Bride Job, 2/18
Rating: Gen / PG-13
Length: 1600 ish / 29,500 ish
Characters: Team Leverage, Westley, Inigo
Summary: Fencing. Fighting. Torture. Revenge. Giants. Monsters. Chases. Escapes. True love. Miracles. And hitter, hacker, grifter, thief, mastermind.
Notes: This is just ridiculously fun to write.
Disclaimers: Yeah. None of it's mine, apart from the idea to mix'n'match, and in abstract that's not mine either. I am now directly lifting some lines from the PB screenplay, as if anybody can't tell.
Spoilers: Nothing for Leverage, a whole lot for The Princess Bride. Is there anyone who is unspoiled for that movie?
Concrit: go for it
Previously, on "The Princess Bride Job":
Chapter One
Chapter Two
The light of dawn revealed a truly remarkable geographical feature to the rather daunted group in the pirate ship’s skiff.
“The Cliffs of Insanity,” said Westley unenthusiastically. “They’re heading straight for them. I did hope it wouldn’t come to that.”
“They’re landing.” They were so close to the other ship they were almost on top of it, but Sophie still raised the telescope disbelievingly. “What are they doing? Is that a rope?”
Westley took the telescope for a moment. “They’re climbing. Clever.”
Nate looked over at Eliot, who rolled his eyes. “Alright. Is there a way around?”
Westley shook his head. “Not for miles. We’d lose them.”
Sophie couldn’t stop watching the group onshore. “That giant’s carrying them! All of them!”
Even Nate paused at that, taking his own turn on the telescope. “Huh. Hardison? Can you track them?”
Hardison, nested in a temporary command center back on the Revenge, took a minute to reply. “~Sorry, Nate. Satellites take time.~”
Westley brought the skiff up to the ship’s landing-place smoothly, and Nate sighed. Nothing for it. “Time to go old school, then. Parker?”
But Parker had already grabbed her lightweight, portable rig, vaulted off the skiff, and was climbing like a cat. Hampered by the bulk strapped across her shoulders, she nevertheless began gaining on the bizarre conglomerate of people strapped together, rising by the strength of the giant’s arms alone.
“Good. Be careful. Eliot?”
Eliot squinted up at the cliffs towering above them like bad hyperbole. “You’re kidding, right?”
“You’re the retrieval -”
“Specialist. That’s right,” he snapped. “Not an idiot!”
“Please,” said Westley quietly, but with a wealth of frustration simmering underneath, earning a measuring look from Eliot.
“I -” Eliot cast around, but knew he’d already lost. “I am wearing tights,” he huffed, gesturing at the clothes they'd borrowed from the pirates in order to blend in.
“~Tight tights,~” came Hardison’s snicker, which was ignored.
“~These aren’t bad for climbing, actually,~” said Parker, her breathing a little labored. “~I like the mask.~”
“And this stupid sword, and these boots - and you want me to climb that?”
Nate looked at him. “You want Parker up there with those guys, alone?”
Eliot glared back, then snatched the mask Nate was holding out, settling it in place before jumping off the skiff.
“Have fun.”
Eliot did not waste breath on a reply.
“Alright, we can’t do much more here. Let’s get some distance and see what’s going on.”
Westley took them further out from shore, where they could monitor the progress of the climbers. Parker had almost caught the group up, but was cautiously staying far enough below that she could avoid anything they tried to drop on her. Eliot was slower, but also steadily gaining on them. The occasional muttered invective sounded across coms, which Nate pretended he couldn’t hear.
“Okay, Parker, they’re almost at the top. They’ll cut the rope. Can you -”
“~Yeah, I’m fine. Eliot, grab rock.~”
There was a grunt as he gained a tiny ledge on the cliff face, a few moments before the heavy rope slithered wickedly away.
“~Okay, good,~” said Parker. “~Stay where you are.~”
Eliot cleared his throat meaningfully. “~Anyone want to tell me what’s happening?~”
“You’re doing good. Parker will find a place to anchor her rig, and lower the line. She’s not far. Just hold tight.”
There was a thoughtful silence, as though Eliot was running through all the options of what he could yell at Nate. Then he said, “~No kidding.~”
Westley was watching through the telescope. “They’re leaving. Wait - one of them’s staying behind. Looks like the swordsman.”
“Hardison, do you have maps of the terrain? Is there anywhere Parker can go where he can’t get at her?”
“~Can you send me some pictures of where they are?... Okay, let me see. Yeah, if she edges to, uh, her right, there should be a kind of - ~”
Faintly, over Parker’s com, they heard a Spanish accent shout, “~Hello there!~”
There was a pause of a few seconds, then Parker called back. “~What?~”
“~Slow going?~”
“~Not really. I’m just trying to find a way up where you can’t kill me.~”
There was a long silence where the man seemed to be digesting this. “~You are ... are you a woman?~”
This threw Parker off her stride. “~Uh ... yeah? So?~”
The confusion was audible in the Spaniard’s voice, even over coms. “~But you are wearing the clothing of a man. We thought you were a man!~” He sounded panicked. “~I cannot kill a woman like this!~”
Eliot was not finding his ledge getting any more comfortable, perched three quarters of the way up the cliff. “~Parker! Get on with it!~”
“~Nate?~” she asked. “~What do I do?~”
“Er....” Nate glanced at Sophie, who’d taken the telescope and was observing the man through it. She shrugged and nodded. “It sounds okay. He ... looks like he means it. Tell him there’s a guy coming, see if we can get both of you up.”
“~I’ve got a man here that you can kill,~” she called out earnestly. “~Only you have to let me up first.~”
The Spaniard considered this. “~That sounds fair.~”
Parker quickly scaled the last few yards, then braced the rig against the rock that had anchored the rope. The Spaniard watched the proceedings with interest.
“Here, I’m lowering the harness. Tell when you’ve got it.”
For a long moment there was only the sound of gulls, far below them. Then, “~Got it. Hang on.~”
His breath rasped loud as he scrabbled to put on the harness, without losing his hold on the cliff, before he indicated he was set.
“Okay, this might take a few minutes. It’s going to winch you up. Keep the line clear of any jags.”
“I do not mean to pry, but who are you people?”
Parker looked at the Spaniard, startled. “Oh. Er -”
“~Tell him we’re people with similar interests to his,~” Nate supplied.
“We’re people with similar interests.”
“With Guilder?” He sounded surprised.
“Er ... yes?” she hedged.
“~Westley, what is he talking about?~” asked Nate.
“~I don’t know. What would Guilder have to do with this? Unless...~” the pirate trailed off.
“~Unless what?~”
“~Well - unless it isn’t a kidnapping.~”
Nate caught on. “~You mean, Guilder trying to provoke war?~”
“~They are old enemies,~” said Sophie thoughtfully. “~The only reason they haven’t fought lately is because their last war nearly bankrupted both of them.~”
“~And they’ve recovered somewhat in the last decade. Yeah.~”
“~Which means they will kill her,~” said Westley flatly.
“~Alright, guys, speed it up. Get the princess back. We’re going to try and find out what’s going on.~”
Meanwhile, the Spaniard had clearly had something on his mind. “I have to ask - do you have a man with six fingers on his right hand?”
Parker, no stranger to strange questions, only shrugged. “No. Why?”
“My father was slaughtered by a six-fingered man.”
“Oh.”
The Spaniard seemed to get a little lost in the past, musing, “He was a great swordmaker, my father.”
“Okay.”
“The six-fingered man came and requested a special sword.”
“Makes sense.”
“My father slaved a year before he was done.”
“Uh huh,” said Parker, checking the line and peering over the side.
“The six-fingered man returned and demanded it, but at one-tenth his promised price. My father refused. Without a word, the six-fingered man slashed him through the heart. I loved my father, so, naturally, I challenged his murderer to a duel....” He frowned. “I failed.”
This seemed to catch Parker’s attention. “How old were you?”
He started at her question, almost having forgotten he was not alone with the memory of his father’s killer. “I was eleven years old.”
“Oh. Yeah,” said Parker brightly, as though she’d solved a puzzle. “Should have used explosives.”
He looked at her with an expression suggesting that he’d never thought of that. Then he shrugged. “I dedicated my life to the study of fencing.” His slight smile carried a vicious promise. “So the next time we meet, I will not fail. I will go up to the six-fingered man and say, ‘Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’”
“~Did you get that, Hardison?~” asked Nate.
“~Yeah. Inigo Montoya.... Not a lot of info on him. Swordmaster. Itinerant sword-for-hire. Last known associate ... Vizzini, no first name.~”
“~Well, it’s somewhere to start.~”
Parker looked at Inigo incredulously. “So ... you haven’t found the guy yet?”
Inigo got a little defensive. “No.”
“Wow. You should get on that.”
“I’ve been trying for twenty years.”
Parker frowned. “Just by asking people if they know him?”
“I am starting to lose confidence,” Inigo admitted.
She considered this. “Have you tried google?”
A scrape and a growl interrupted his reply, and announced Eliot pulling himself over the lip of the cliff. He rolled to his feet, unhooked from the line with a violent jerk, took two steps, punched Inigo, and stepped over his unconscious body to lean heavily against the boulder.
After a few deep breaths, he straightened and turned to Parker. “Okay. Let’s go steal this damn princess back.”
Chapter Three