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thegeeksideofsr · 6 months ago

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Midnight Snack

Summery: Nate's daughter' period is a pain, literally and figuratively. Sent home to relax, and receives a late night visitor.

A/n: This is entirely self indulgence. I was on my period, had cramps and wanted cuddles. But alas. I am single. So this was made. Eliot might be a little OOC, but whatever. It's fluffy.

The kitchen is a buzz with activity. Kate works with the pastry chef and over sees the line cooks prepping at their stations, the prep cooks prepare ingredients and portioning them out, and the bussers setting tables up.

I sit at the bar talking with the sommelier, Alice, and bartender, Duncan, about the wine list, the drinks available, and the influx of minors trying to buy alcohol.

I try to pay attention to them, but my cramps are taking over, going from my waist to my lower back, I run a hand along my abdomen, trying to soothe the pain.

"Boss, you ok?" Duncan asks.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine, hun," Alice pipes in. " You look like you are going to be sick or pass out."

"I am fine," I stress. " It's just cramps. I've had them before and I'll have them again. Now the wine list-"

"Boss!" Yells Kate comes out of the kitchen in a trot. " Do you still want to do the- whoa! You look like shit!"

"Thanks, Kate. Just what every girl want to hear."

"Sorry, but you do." She turns to Duncan and Alice, "What'd you two do to her?"

"Nothing!" They exclaim.

"She has cramps and insists she's fine even though she looks awful." Alice's explains.

Kate turns to me, "You want to go home? I can hold down the fort."

"I can't. It's a Friday night, I can't leave you guys here while I'm at home."

"Ok, but how much help are you going to be of you are in pain all night. Have you taken anything?"

I nod. "Forty minutes ago. They haven't touched it."

"Well then I am pulling Soue Chef rank and sending you home." Kate's hand in her hips and a determined look on her face.

"I don't think that's a thing." Duncan mutters.

She ignores him and squints at me. "I will call your father and tell him you aren't talking care of you self."

I squint back.

"You wouldn't."

She reaches into her pocket, pull her phone out and opens to his contact. Her finger hovers over the call button.

"If you don't agree to go home in the next ten seconds I will call him." She says calmly then begins to count down.

I look to Duncan and Alice.

Duncan raises his hand in defense,"I'm not getting in the middle of Kate and one of her missions. I know better."

Alice shrugs. "While I don't agree with her tactics, you need a break. You have been here almost everyday for the past three months."

I glare at them. "Traitors."

"Five, four, three" Kate's finger hovers closer to the screen.

"Fine! I'll go home!" I relent. " What are you, twelve? Threatening to call my dad."

Kate shrugs as she put her phone away.

"It worked though. What's that say about you?"

I roll my eyes as I slide of the stool. "I hate you."

"I know."

I head to my office to get my phone and some paperwork, then to the wall of lockers in the back for the rest of my stuff.

I explain to the kitchen crew that I'm not feeling well and that Kate is sending me home, they all nod in understanding as they have also experienced her mothering, then stop at the bar again on my way out.

"Call me if you need me," I tell the trio. " I can still -"

"We will survive until Monday," Alice assures.

"Monday?"

"We discussed it," Kate nods, and gestures to the pair next to her. "And decided you need a vacation. You make sure this place runs smoothly and that everyone is ok. It's time you took care of yourself."

The thoughtfulness is touching, and she is right, a break would be nice.

"If you're sure."

"Go!" The three practically yell.

"Ok, ok I'm going."

I head towards the door, wave one last time, then open the door.

"Call the guy you told me about!" Kate yells after me. " The one with blue eyes!"

"What guy?" Duncan asks, a protective tone to his voice.

I roll my eyes and head to my car.

**********************************************"

Once in my apartment I go for a hot shower, hot as I can stand. My cramps are a bit better, but not gone, and the heat of the shower helps.

After the shower come the comfy pants, my favorite sweatshirt, and fuzzy socks.

I make my way to the kitchen and make a cup of tea. I place a bean bag in the microwave and turn it on for a few minutes to heat up.

Once it's done, I grab my mug and bean bag, then head to the couch turning off lights as I go.

Once in the living room I grab the remote and place it on the side table next to my mug, before placing the bean bag on my lower belly then tuck my blanket in around me.

I turn the TV on and pull up my comfort show, volume turned down low.

Cool autumn air flows in from the window, cracked open for fresh air, fairy lights line the ceiling of the living room casting a warm glow.

After half an hour my phone vibrates on the side table, my Dad's name across the screen.

I pick it up to answer.

"Hey, Dad. How are you?"

"Hey, kiddo. I wanted to check in, haven't heard from you in a while. Didn't expect you to pick up. Was gonna leave a message because you were working."

"I'm fine. Just busy with work. I wasn't feeling well so Kate sent me home," I explain.

"Are you okay?" His voice full of concern.

"I'm fine. Nothing a good nights sleep won't fix." I assure him. "I'm sorry I haven't called you or come by, but you and the team seemed busy. The last time I saw you all Eliot looked like he when toe to toe with a moose and lost."

"Yeah, we have been rather busy, but that doesn't excuse us not spending time together."

"I know, but it's not a big deal. We both have been busy. It happens. And what you and the team are doing is good work, I don't want to get in the way. The least I can do is feed you when I have the opportunity."

He goes quiet, neither of us speak for a moment.

"Can you come over tomorrow? Just us. So we can catch up?"

I smile. "Of course! What time do you want me there?"

"Ten?"

"Ten is perfect. I-"

I hear a yell in the background, I think is Eliot . Dad yells back that he's on his way.

"I have to go, kiddo. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."

"I love you too, Dad. I'll see you tomorrow."

We hang up, I set my phone down again and go back to my show.

I start to dose after a few episodes. My bean bag long since cooled, but the blanket keeps the heat in. Thankfully the cramps have subsided.

A knock on my door breaks through the quiet.

A groan leaves me. I extract myself from my cocoon, keeping my blanket wrapped around me as I trudge to the door.

I look through the peap hole, to find Eliot on the other side.

Confusion floods me as I unlock and open the door.

"Eliot?" I ask him. "What are you doing here this late."

"Nate said you weren't feelin' well." He lift his arm, showing off a fabric bag. "I brought this."

"What is it?"

"Can I come in?"

I nod, stepping out of the way.

He step past me to stand in the entrance awkwardly while I lock the door.

I turn to him. He looks out of place in my cozy apartment. His leather jacket and hoodie over a Henley, work boots and blue jeans.

He in turn looks at me. Reminding me that I'm wearing a blanket as a cape and fuzzy socks.

"Where's your kitchen?" He asks.

"Down on the left." I gesture towards the kitchen.

He nods, goes to take a step but hesitates.

"Should I take my boots off?" He asks.

I look down to his rather dirty boots, then back to his face.

"Would you mind?"

He shakes his head.

"I can take the bag to the kitchen if you'd like."

He hands it to me hesitantly, then bends to unlace his boots.

I head to the kitchen, "Make yourself at home," I call over my shoulder.

I place the bag on the counter, then turn my kettle on for another cup of tea, or hot chocolate. That would be good too.

Foot steps pull me from my thoughts as Eliot comes to the counter and start to pull items from the bag to lay on the counter.

Two tupperware of something, two quart jars of what looked like broth, and a tub of my favorite ice cream.

"Can I borrow your kitchen?" He asks, leaning against the counter next to the items he laid out.

"Depends. What are you making?"

He opens and sets down one of the tupperware to reveal scrambled eggs and small bits of cooked chicken, repeating with the next container to reveal small elbows pasta.

"My mom's chicken noodle soup. Homemade broth is what makes it so good. Fixes any ailment you got."

Oh that sounded good.

"Eliot, as sweet as this is and how good it sounds, I don't think that soup will help me right now."

He shrugs. "Never know till ya try it. How ya feelin' any way?"

I hesitate and look away from him.

He steps closer, his hands rest on my arms, heat radiating through the blanket around my shoulders.

"What is it?" He asks.

"My period. The cramps have been really bad today. Kate made me go home because I looked like I was going pass out. I was fine, but it was nice to relax for a while."

"Have you taken anything for them?"

I nod. " Some meds. And a hot shower and a heated bean bag. It's fine though, you didn't have to come over."

He shakes his head, "I don't mind. Are you cramping now?"

"The meds are wearing off," I check the clock on the stove, "I can take more in half an hour."

"Alright. When's the last time you ate?"

That question makes me pause. Thinking back, I wasn't hungry when I got home, or after my shower, so that ment the last meal would have been lunch with Alice and Kate. Considering it was ten-thirty , it had been about eleven hours. Yikes.

"Lunch time," I mutter.

He sighs and give me a disapproving look.

I roll my eyes, "I know. You can cook if you agree to stay and eat with me and keep me company."

He lets a half smile cross his face. " Deal."

I nod then leave him to fetch my mug for a new cup of tea.

On my return I see he's pulled a medium pot from the cupboard, emptied the two jars into it, the container of eggs and chicken as well, the ice cream no longer on the counter, presumably tucked away safely in the freezer.

"Where'dya keep your herbs?" He asks.

"Left of the stove." I gesture towards the cupboard as I pour hot water into my mug.

He opens the cupboard, reading the hand written labels.

"You dry these yourself?" He turns to me, holding the jar of dill.

I nod.

"The building has a community garden. Some people grow fruits, others grow veggies. I grow the herbs and dry them. The landlord has a chicken coop and those ladies are egg producing machines," I explain with chuckle as I grab my mug and move to the kitchen table, tucking my legs under me.

"We share what we grow, like a family. There's only a six units in the building so it works well. It was nice when Dad was out in LA. And when Sam died. My neighbor's made sure I was ok during that time."

"Nate wasn't there for you?"

"Not as much as I would have hoped. He took it the hardest. He got really angry at the world." I look down to my hands. "I was just starting my restaurant when he got diagnosed. Kate was the only one who knew."

"I'm sorry." He says, looking at me with a sad look. "I met Nate when he was probably at his worst. He was reckless. He never mentioned you before."

I laugh lightly.

"I'm not surprised. He always kept work and family separate as much as he could."

He nods then goes back to cooking.

I watch him cook. His movements smooth and confident, adding herbs and stirring them in, adding the pasta and turning the heat down to simmer.

Watching him slowly gets taken over by pain encircling my hips and lower abdomen.

I lean forward over my lap, squishing my organs to relieve the pain. I must make some kind of noise, because Eliot's feet appear in front of me, then he squats down in front of me.

"You ok, darlin'?"

"I'm fine." I mutter.

"No, you're not. Where are your meds?"

"Bathroom, left middle drawer."

He leaves my view, I hear him rummage through the drawer, then his foot steps back to the kitchen.

He squats back in front of me, opening the jar and pouring out a few pills into his hand.

"How many?"

"Two."

He puts the extras away until two remain in his palm, held out towards me.

I sit up, and take them from him, I wash them down with my tea, now drinking temp.

I set my mug back on the table, Eliot's gaze following my movements, hand on my knees gently rubbing.

"Why are you so calm about this?" I ask. "Most guys are kinda grossed out, or do the bare minimum."

"My mom taught me to take care of people, especially women in pain. Plus I've been workin' with Parker and Sophie for two years, this ain't my first rodeo."

"Parker must be a handful." I joke.

"Yeah she is." He chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkle. "You need anything else?"

"Not right now." I push my blanket from my shoulders to stand up. "I think I'll go back to my spot on the couch after a quick bathroom stop."

He nods, taking a step back allowing me room to stand.

I head to the bathroom, sounds come from Eliot moving about my apartment through the door.

Once I'm done I head back out towards the kitchen, but the living room catches my eye, the couch specifically.

My blanket it there, not on the kitchen chair, my mug on the side table, and two bowls sit on the coffee table in front of the couch, steam rising from them. The microwave hums is the kitchen.

I stand in the door way of the kitchen, starring at Eliot, leaning against the counter waiting for the microwave to finish.

He looks up at me.

"Go sit down. I'll bring this over when it's done."

"What is it? My bean bag?"

He nods.

"Found it when I brought you blanket over. Thought I'd warm it for you while you were gone."

The thoughtfulness makes my heart flutter.

"Thank you, Eliot."

"You're welcome. Now go sit." He points towards the living room then turns to the microwave as it beeps.

I give a small salute then head to the couch, tucking my self into my blanket like a nest.

Eliot follows a minute later holding the bean bag.

"Over the blanket or under?" He asks.

"Under." I reach for the bag, move the blanket and settle it across my lap and abdomen.

I tuck the blanket back around me, leaning my head down to the back of the couch.

"Better?" He asks.

I hum an confirmation.

The couch dips next to me, he sits close enough to feel his body heat, but not touching.

He leans forward and pick up a bowl, passing it to me, then picking up the next for himself.

I thank him, then take a spoon full of the soup. It smells amazing, and the taste even more so.

"Eliot, this is amazing. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like it."

I watch him as he eats, sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward like he's really to go at a moment notice. Not relaxed at all.

"Eliot," I say to him. "Sit back get comfy."

He looks at me, almost like a dear caught in headlights, then shifts back and settles into his spot.

"Happy?" He grumbles.

"Very. Now," I reach for the TV remote and turn it back on. " What do you like to watch?"

"I don't watch TV much, but when I have the opportunity it's sports."

"Of course it is," I whisper under my breath.

"What was that?" He raises any eyebrow at me.

"Nothing! So sports, I think they are running some old baseball games -"

"Not baseball."

"What's wrong with baseball?"

"It's stupid. Can't score off defense."

I roll my eyes.

"Don't say that around my restaurant, you'd never make it out alive."

"I think I'd be fine."

I shake my head, turning back to the TV to find something we agree on, surprisingly it's old reruns of Magnum PI. At least he's got good taste out side of sports.

Soon enough the bowls a empty, ice cream replaces soup and is consumed. Empty bowls are left on the coffee table to be cleaned later.

During the third episode, I lean over to rest against Eliot's side, his arm moving from the back of the couch to around my shoulders, his thumb rubbing against my shoulder.

I feel myself start to doze off. The dimly lit room, the warmth from Eliot around me, and the comfort of his arm around it the perfect recipe for sleep.

I wake up a little bit as I feel myself being being lifted from the couch. I'm carried for a few seconds, then am gently set onto something soft. A hand cradles my head, guiding it until my head hits my pillow.

The blankets are pulled over me, tucking me in. A head brushes some hair from my face, then leaves. I look to catch the hand, I hold tight.

"I gotta go, darlin'. You need sleep." He whispers.

"Stay." I mumble back, eyes falling closed again.

He doesn't move, still holding my hand, he then squeezes it briefly and lets go.

"A'right, I'll stay."

He rounds the bed and climbs in the other side. I shuffle over to his side, his body heat like a magnet. I cuddle into his side, my head on his chest, arm draped across his stomach.

He's stiff, and his heart beats are rapid.

He soon relaxes, heart slowing, one hand resting on my upper back, the other coming to rest on the back of my head, rubbing my scalp, lulling me to sleep.

***********************************************

Sun through shear curtains shines on my face, pulling me from sleep.

I roll away from the window reaching to the side that was occupied the night before, but my hand lands on cool, empty bedsheets.

I sit up and glance around the room. Not a trace of anything out of place. I listen for movement, but the apartment is silent.

I toss the blankets of and slip out of my room.

The blanket on the couch is neatly folded, there are no mugs on the coffee or side tables.

The kitchen is the same. No tupperware or jars, no pots on the stove. The sink is empty, or in the drainer.

The whole house is baren of any sign Eliot was in my apartment, let alone my bed.

Except for the the pot of coffee on my counter, the light still on.

***********************************************

Taglist: @fictional-hooman @skyeofbees @kimberkingrivers @spencereliotwinchester @padawancat97

#self indulgent #eliot spencer #eliot spencer x reader #christian kane #leverage #eliot spencer fanfic #ford!reader

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phantompoguefangirl · 11 months ago

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GREEN LIGHT-SPENCER REID

'Love compels cruelty To those who do not understand love.'

'I learn a great deal by merely observing you, and letting you talk as long as you please, and taking note of what you do not say.'

'In my end is my beginning.'

T.S. Eliot

A/N: Based on the episodes Green Light and Red light and basically that whole section of Season 12. Fluff and ANGST. This is also on my wattpad SerpentBeauty1710 and will be on my AO3, MayaGillespieReid

**********************************

Y/N POV:

Nothing could have prepared me for any of this.

Not for the way my soul left my body when the words "Spencer is in jail in Mexico" came out of Emily's horrified mouth.

Not for the anxiety being stuck home waiting for answers when half the team went down to get him.

Not for the relief and yet underlying tornado of emotions when the beautiful, kind and innocent boy wonder, the love of my life, my sweet Spencer...walked into the BAU in handcuffs.

The frustration when my short legs and rapidly expanding belly wouldn't let me get to him faster. The pain when he couldn't hug me back, then the love and desperation I felt him return by nuzzling his face into my neck as best he could while his bound hands caressed my bump. The soft but urgent warmth of his lips as I reached up to kiss him. The brief touch of his forehead to mine and the whispered reassurances right before Emily led him back to the elevator.

The way I broke down sobbing when the judge denied bail.

And the agony of waiting, of knowing he was so close to home and not being able to hold him or keep him safe. And on top of that, the stress of not knowing if he would get out in time, if at all...

The team did their best to support me through it and took turns helping with Diana when they could, along with the caregiver Spencer and I had hired for her. We had decided to move into a house with a mother in law suite for Diana when Spencer brought her to live with us in DC. We'd agreed Diana would do better with her own space and it ended up being a really good thing we moved. The team helped me finish settling in. Garcia was all over decorating, Emily JJ and Tara helped me organize everything, Derek and our new agent Luke handled any repairs and/or replacements that needed done and Rossi brought his delicious food regularly. Hotch had very recently gone into in witsec with Jack, but I knew he'd be here helping too if he could.

I smiled appreciatively at the thought of our friends as I struggled to roll out of bed and padded to the kitchen for breakfast. I was grabbing a croissant from the container when I felt a small pinch in my neck and everything went dark.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in what seemed to be a trunk. I was going to kick a tail light out or or scream or something but my hands and feet were tied up and there was duct tape over my mouth. It was cold, much more so probably due to the fact that I was only in a tank top and pajama shorts.

I didn't recognize my captors' voices but I tried to listen to the youngish girl and older man when they spoke. They mostly talked in low tones so it was difficult, but I heard them whisper Diana's name and something about the caregiver which caused my heart and stomach to constrict in terror. I wanted to scream at them to tell me where my mother in law was, but I knew it would probably do no good and I still had the tape on my mouth anyway.

What felt like days(but was probably only hours) passed and the only respite I had was when the man moved me to a different trunk and removed the tape before holding the phone to my ear. I recognized the phone number on the screen.

"Spencer?" I whimpered, shifting umcomfortably as the man held on to the ropes around me.

"Y/N, are you okay?!" He cried out desperately.

"Yeah we're okay, I think," I answered softly. "But Spencer, they have Mom. I don't know where, she's not with me but-"

The man shoved the tape back over my mouth and closed the trunk. I thought I heard Diana's scared voice right before he took the phone away, which was odd. I did hear a gunshot right outside a second later though, followed by a loud explosion, before the vehicle I was in roared to life and was suddenly in motion.

I tried to mentally document all of my surroundings, while simultaneously looking around for something to cut my bindings with, in order to keep myself from panicking. However, every so often the tightening feeling would return and I felt like I couldn't breathe.

Spencer's soft voice in my mind reassured me and reminded me how amazing our team is, which helped to soothe me a little. That led me to distract myself with thoughts of my wonderful husband. Of every little thing about him that I was so in love with. Things like his ridiculously cute laugh, our shared fascination with books and learning, the way he loved so deeply with his entire heart, his gentle kindness, his relentless determination, etc. One of my favorite things was the expression on his face whenever he concentrated hard on anything or whenever he was deep in thought. The way his brow furrowed while he rested his chin on his folded hand, every so often running his thumb or knuckle across his bottom lip or sometimes against his chin. I'd never seen him do this so intensely until the day he figured out this special puzzle box I'd had made for him.

*FLASHBACK*

It took me a bit to think of a good way to tell him the news. I didn't want to just say the words or show him the test or something simple. I wanted it to be as special as he was to me. It was a conversation we'd had about Sherlock Holmes that finally gave me the idea. I created a little scavenger hunt for him, the last clue of which was a puzzle box for him to solve. He loved puzzles and riddles. The answer to open the box was a phrase that he would have to guess.

He figured out the clues to the hunt much faster than expected, but the puzzle box actually took him quite a while to figure out. He got so determined to crack it that he brought it to work, unbeknownst to me. I was shocked when I walked into the round table room(I'd stopped in the break room for some tea which we were sadly out of) and found him studying it, eyebrows furrowed very deeply, head on hand and thumb brushing against his lip while Garcia and Hotch were briefing us on a case. I tried not to stare at him, because let's be honest it was unbelievably hot when he looked like that, and silently hoped he would not crack the code till later. Of course I had no such luck. He was a genius after all.

"I'm pregnant? What? I'm not-" Spencer suddenly said out loud, causing us all to stop and look at him. He was silenced by the box unlocking as he finished turning the small knobs to the correct letters. He saw what was inside and his eyes grew to the size of bowling balls as he picked it up. His face snapped up to look at me and he jumped out of his seat at the same time. "YOU'RE PREGNANT?!"

Everyone gaped at us. I froze, having not even made it into a chair yet.

"I...um...yeah," I managed to get out after a moment.

Spencer's mouth dropped open and his eyes somehow softened while staying wide. His floppy brown curls made him look even more like a puppy as he reached for me and squeaked out the word "Really?"

My heart melted, every emotion flooding to the surface, as I stepped closer to him.

"Yeah really. We're gonna have a baby, Spence," I said softly, smiling tentatively.

A gasp escaped Spencer's lips as he pulled me into his arms and spun me around while everyone cheered. He set me down and kissed me passionately through happy tears before the team engulfed us in hugs.

"Congratulations, you two," Hotch said, revealing a rare, genuine smile.

"Tanta Felicità!" Rossi exclaimed in Italian as he kissed our cheeks.

"You guys! This is amazing!" JJ said, "You're gonna be great parents!"

Tara echoed this enthusiastically, affectionately wrapping her arms around us for a brief moment before backing up.

"Wow, I was totally kidding when I asked if you wanted little baby geniuses some day. I'm so glad I was right though. This is wonderful news!" Emily quipped, grinning.

"BABY GENIUS THERE IS GOING TO BE A BABY GENIUS OH MY GOD I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU RIGHT NOW OH MY GOD!" Penelope all but screeched as she embraced us tightly, continuing to ramble. "Auntie Penelope is gonna spoil the heck out of this little one just like I do with Henry and Michael! I hope it's a girl but as long as he or she is healthy that's all that really matters."

"Way to go, Pretty Boy. I didn't know you had it in you!" Morgan joked once Garcia was done, clapping Spencer on the shoulder as we all giggled. "But I couldn't be happier for you both."

"Thanks man," Spencer chuckled, as he looked down at the object in his hands and teared up some more.

"What is it?" Morgan asked. Nobody had seemed to notice the object before but now they all zeroed in on it.

"A onesie?" JJ asked.

"It says 'Daddy's little Genius'...Daddy... I'm gonna be a dad...," Spencer murmured, smiling in that adorable way he does when he's emotional.

A chorus of awwwws filled the room followed by them scruffing Spencer's hair or clapping him on the shoulders again. I also received more hugs and a couple kisses on the head from Morgan and Rossi.

Hotch let us celebrate for a second, and celebrated with us, before drawing our attention back to the case at hand. Of course, Penelope told us we were having a real celebration when we got back and would not take no for an answer. And that's exactly what we did.

I hadn't meant for everyone to find out like that, but it ended up being the happiest moment in my life so far.

The memory faded as the tightening intensified. It felt like a weight pressing on me, like I wasn't going to be able to relax until I knew that Diana was safe. If anything happened to her, I wasn't sure what the hell I would do. She'd been doing so much better and she'd been absolutely over the moon upon learning she was going to be a grandmother. She'd nearly screamed out joyfully when we told her the news. She'd insisted that Spencer and I take turns reading to the baby every day and when Spencer was away, she took his place, picking up wherever he left off while I rested. Diana was genuinely wonderful and I was not violent by nature but I would go absolutely feral on anyone who hurt her, even in my current condition.

I tried to keep distracting myself with thoughts of Spencer and eventually began to doze off.

SPENCER POV:

I realized who the girl was as soon as she left the visiting room with my mother. I contacted the team as soon as possible to let them know, unable to keep from panicking.

Convincing them to believe me and the wait for news was excruciating but that was nothing compared to what I felt when Emily visited to update me on everything.

As soon as she walked in the room, I could see that something was very wrong, aside from Lindsey taking my mom. I think subconsciously I already knew what it was when I first saw Lindsey, but I couldn't bear to let myself even consider it.

"We found your caregiver dead in a house just a few houses down from yours. Ballistics came back and turns out Lindsey used her father's gun. We don't know whether it was to prove a point or something else, but the reasons are unimportant." Emily began, urging me to sit. I politely refused and she continued, "The point is that you were right, Reid. You were right and I didn't believe you. I'm so sorry."

"She's a daddy's girl. She can't help but use his gun," I mused out loud, going over the memories of her case in my mind.

"Good. That's good. That helps," Emily said, but there was something about her voice that alerted me.

I sat there across the table, shaking at this point, but I made myself look at her. "There's something else you're not telling me, isn't there?"

Emily looked down, hesitating for a second before answering.

"It's Y/N," she finally said, holding back tears,"Lindsey took her too."

My heart stopped. I heard Emily shout my name but couldn't focus on her at all. I couldn't think. I couldn't even pull oxygen into my lungs.

This was not happening.

This could not be happening.

Not my wife... not our baby...

I felt a hand on my arm. I shoved it off of me.

"You have to find them, Emily. Promise me you'll find my mom and Y/N." I begged, desperately.

"I promise you, Reid. We will find them," Emily assured me. "Right now you just have to find a way to isolate yourself."

I stormed toward the door and had the guard take me back to my cell.

I ended up having to make it look like Shaw stabbed me with a shiv to get put in solitary confinement. I couldn't handle anything else happening and I had to least try and stay safe on the off chance I got to get out and search for my wife and mom. Not that I had any hope that I would get out at this point in time, but I trusted my team with everything and I knew they would not rest till they found my family.

Sometime later, I found myself being brought out of isolation without any warning and I was terrified that Shaw had conjured up his own way to get to me. The guard left me in a room alone and I tried to remain calm, bracing myself for what was to come.

I was not prepared for my best friend to walk through the door.

"We're taking you home," JJ choked out as her eyes watered.

I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding as I pulled her into a tight hug. After a minute, she led me out the door and took me back to the BAU.

The sense of ease at seeing my work family again, especially the radiant embodiment of sunshine that was Penelope Garcia, was brief. It was soon overshadowed by unbridled rage when we discovered that Cat Adams was the true mastermind behind all of this.

She had Lindsey frame me for murder.

She had me put in prison.

She risked my sobriety by drugging me.

She had Lindsey kidnap my family.

Now, she was demanding to speak to me by using them as leverage.

Of course she wanted to play a game just like we did before when I arrested her, using my watch as the timer. She was angry that I'd outsmarted her so she wanted to break me. I was not about to let her have even a sliver of satisfaction.

She almost succeeded, however, when she revealed she was pregnant with my child.

Almost.

Apparently she'd told Lindsey to pretend to be Y/N after she dosed me with drugs so she could collect a sample from me down in Mexico. I knew it should not be possible, but I had been drugged and my memories of that day were still very hazy so I couldn't be sure.

"That's right, Y/N's not the only one carrying a baby protegé," Cat said in almost a sing song voice as I rushed out of the room. "I was thinking, if it's a boy, Spencie Junior. Or if it's a girl, Y/N. You know, since she played a part in her own conception."

JJ was waiting outside with Cat's file, hesitantly holding it up. I barely heard the words she said as I read it, then threw it against the wall once I saw the confirmation of pregnancy.

"Sorry," I said gently, upon noticing I had scared JJ. I ran my fingers through my hair. "I just...just need a minute."

JJ just nodded in understanding.

Some time later, the team discovered that Cat was lying about the child being mine and we eventually got her to call her cohort for proof of life.

My heart swelled when I heard the love of my life's voice on the other end of the phone.

"Yeah we're okay, I think," she answered softly. Dread filled me at her next words. "But Spencer they have Mom. I don't know where, she's not with me but-

She'd conferenced in the call for my mom too and their voices made me hopeful for a second before both calls were cut off with explosions.

I forced the metal table out of my way before shoving Cat against the wall by her throat.

"I'm gonna kill you," I hissed, enraged once more. "I'm gonna kill you."

I kept repeating that until JJ pried me off of Cat, reminding me over and over that she was pregnant.

I stormed out again with JJ hot on my heels. I didn't have time to break down before the team told us that there was a call in about an amber alert Emily put out for Lindsey. Two vehicles at the scene were blown up but the only victim inside was male.

I felt bad for the man who was killed, but this meant there was hope again.

JJ and I talked some things through and pieced together what Cat really wanted me to say. While I told Cat what she wanted to hear, the team discovered the prison guard who had actually been the one to impregnate Cat and found two properties he owned.

I won the game by telling Cat that I could have done several different things to get out of the situation with Shaw and his men but I chose the one that would cause the most pain. In the process, Lindsey overheard us on Emily's tablet which had been connected to the visiting room cameras, realizing Cat betrayed her and therefore giving up.

As I was heading out, Cat piped up again. "How are you going to be a father now that you've proven you enjoyed hurting those men in prison? I mean, because once you've crossed that line, you can never go back."

In a split second I was on my knees in front of her, yanking my watch off of her wrist.

"Watch me," I retorted before walking out.

The team found my mom first and they let me see her briefly, then they took her to the hospital to make sure she was okay. We went to a secondary location we'd discovered which was where they were holding Y/N. I wasn't technically supposed to go because I was not reinstated yet but I couldn't think clearly enough to obey that rule when my girl and my unborn child were in danger.

Luckily, JJ was a parent and knew me too well so she had my back. Rossi also understood and had a helicopter standing by. We managed to make it there in time for the team to breech the house and I rushed in along side them without thinking.

That's when my whole life changed.

Y/N P.O.V.

My captors brought me to a house and left me in a room on the floor. I was alone for awhile and attempted to move to relieve the tight cramping sensation, which had gotten so much worse. I tried to conceal my pain from the man who was walking around the house setting stuff up and attaching rectangle shaped objects to the walls.

I was horrified when I saw that they were C4 charges. The resulting panic ran concurrent with another very intense tightening sensation, followed by what felt like a toilet flushing inside me and then a few minutes later, warm liquid spilled out between my legs.

All at once, the realization hit. The pains I'd been feeling all day were contractions and the liquid was my water breaking.

I was in labor. I had been kidnapped, was about to be blown up and I was in fucking labor.

I wasn't even due for another few weeks so this shouldn't be happening yet. I mean, I knew from the books Spencer and I read that babies rarely came on their actual due dates, but I was still incredibly frightened.

I wept quietly. Three or four more excruciating contractions ripped through me much more quickly before I was distracted by the doors being busted open.

I almost didn't even notice Tara knocking out the unsub or the others disarming the bombs because all I could focus on was the beautiful face of my sweet Spencer as he rushed over to me.

He hijacked Luke's pocket knife from his belt, swiftly slicing through the ropes before wrapping his arms around me.

"Spence," I sobbed hysterically into his shoulder.

"I'm here, love. It's okay," he murmured into my hair, kissing the side of my head.

"How are you here?" I asked, almost unable to conceive that he was really in front of me.

"I'll explain later. Right now we have to get you out of here," He answered, reaching to help me up.

"Wait, is Mom-" I started to say, but he was way ahead of me.

"Mom is fine, Emily and Luke got her back." he responded, relief in his voice.

"Oh, thank God. I-oh!" I grimaced, grabbing my belly.

"What's wrong?" Spencer asked, his face instantly distressed.

"The baby is coming," I managed to say through gritted teeth. "Like, right now."

"What?!"He nearly shouted. He located and motioned to the paramedics that had followed him in. "She's in labor. We need to get her to the hospital immediately!"

The EMTs rushed over to us.

"Ma'am how far apart are your contractions?" one of the paramedics asked as he opened his bag, applied a blood pressure cuff to my arm and took my vitals. Another EMT started setting up a stretcher for me.

I gripped my husband's bicep for dear life as I felt another contraction after a little bit. He winced in pain but he supported me through it.

"I don't know, but close enough to know we ain't making it to the hospital," I groaned, leaning against him once it passed.

"Damn it, you're right. That last one was 2 minutes and 48 seconds from the one you had when I got here. How are you in active labor so quickly? The books said the first child usually takes the longest and it could be hours if not days before the baby is born," Spencer rambled anxiously.

"Um, pretty sure I've been having contractions since they took us," I told him,"How long has it been since then?"

He gaped at me,"It's about 1:30am. It's been approximately 17 hours. God, I'm so sorry, Y/N. This is not how this was supposed to happen. It's 3 weeks early and you're under too much stress-"

"It's okay, Spence. We're okay," I reassured him, grabbing my belly as another pain shot through me. "Oohh nope we're not!"

Spencer looked so freaked out which was sort of scaring me.

The EMT seemed to notice and stopped what he was doing,"Hey, it's going to be okay, guys. Her vitals and everything look good and babies are delivered a few weeks premature all the time and are in perfect health. We'll take good care of you all, I promise."

It seemed to work. Spencer relaxed a little bit and switched into doctor mode, holding my hands.

"You're alright, just remember the birthing classes. Breathe with me like this, okay?" He instructed in a gentle voice, demonstrating what the lamaze teacher taught us. I did what he said as best as I could.

The team, who was still standing there awkwardly, left when Spencer and the paramedic started to remove my short bottoms and slid a large pad thing underneath me. JJ said they would meet us at the hospital since they needed to check on Diana anyway. At some point in the process Spencer slipped behind me, sitting with his legs on either side of me and his arms under mine, probably without thinking about it. We sat like this a lot in the classes and also at home because he'd read that sitting like this while carefully lifting my belly provided some much needed relief from it weighing down on me.

"Looks like you're fully dialated. It's time for you to push," the paramedic said, after he checked me. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"I need," I grunted, shifting back against Spencer, who as quick to assist,"I need to be up..."

"What?" the medic asked, confused.

"Statistically, it's much more beneficial and effective to give birth in an upright position such as squatting or kneeling on all fours," Spencer prattled off facts as he lifted me so I was sitting up against his chest. He kept his arms underneath mine and entwined our fingers so I could squeeze his hands whenever I needed to."In fact, up until the 1700's, women were even known to give birth standing up. It allows the pelvic bones to open up for the child to pass through more easily and gravity helps the process move faster."

The medic gave him the look everyone gives him when he spouts facts and I supressed a giggle.

"Are you a doctor?" he asked my husband, incredulously.

"I have 3 phD's so technically yes-oh owww,"Spencer's sentence was interrupted by me squeezing the life out of his hands as another one hit.

The medic gave him a 'wow' look and then focused on me again,"Okay, anyway I'm gonna have you push through this contraction. Are you ready?"

I nodded and inhaled deeply, pushing on his cue. He counted down and told me to stop. I exhaled harshly and rested for a second before I was told to do it again. We repeated this a few times, Spencer lovingly encouraging me through it. The medic also reassured me that I was doing great, even though I was exhausted and didn't feel like I was doing well.

Sooner than expected, a tiny wail filled the room, changing everything and stirring an indescribable feeling inside me.

"It's a girl!" The paramedic announced, cleaning her, wrapping her in the blue towel things they use and placing her in my arms.

"Oh my gosh" I gasped as I stroked her small head, in hysterical tears at this point. "Hello my little love...oh Spence, look at her..."

Spencer, gaping at her in awe, managed to speak, "H-hi princess, I'm your dad...wow you're so beautiful...you look just like your mommy."

He wasn't wrong. She had his round, hazel eyes, but most of her facial features and her hair color were the same as mine. I smiled warmly down at her through my tears.

I was going to throw back a smart remark but it was forgotten as more tightening and the need to push again overtook me. "Something else is coming out what the-?"

"It's probably the placenta needing to be delivered," Spencer said, without taking his eyes off of our daughter.

"I don't think so," The medic said, reaching his hands out as I instinctively pushed some more.

Just when I thought I could not exert myself anymore, whatever it was came out and the medic grinned, holding it up. "Does that look like a placenta to you, Doctor?"

Our eyes just about popped out of our heads at the sight of the tiny wriggling form.

Another baby??!!

"I-No but- that's impossible," Spencer stuttered, in shock. I mirrored his expression completely.

"You didn't know?" The medic looked confused as he grabbed another towel thing.

"No, the ultrasounds only showed one baby," I said, in disbelief.

"This is a surprise then!" the medic chuckled. "Well congratulations Mom and Dad, it's a boy!"

He placed the baby in my other arm and reminded Spencer, who was still completely astounded, to cut the umbilical cords.

"We have twins?" Spencer whispered increduously, staring at the two small bundles wiggling against my chest.

"We have twins," I repeated, gazing back and forth between my babies and my husband, dumbfounded, "I can't believe it."

The second baby looked exactly like his father. The same brown curls, the same nose, lips, eyes, everything. He was perfect. Both our children were. I'd never felt so much love and joy in my life and I could tell Spencer hadn't either.

"Hi, sweet boy, we were not expecting you, but we are so happy that you're here," I cooed at my son.

"Yes we are. We love you so much, little buddy," Spencer agreed, resting his head on my shoulder as he brushed the boy's cheek lightly with his thumb.

I turned my head to face him and he pressed his lips to mine, murmuring. "I love you and I'm so proud of you."

"I love you too," I murmured back, feeling the warm wetness on my cheeks return as I pressed my forehead to his.

"Congratulations, again. They're adorable," The medic said, warmly as he cleaned everything up.

"Thank you," We answered simultaneously, smiling widely.

When the EMT was done, Spencer moved out from behind me and took the babies so the medics could lift me onto the stretcher. They put a warm blanket over me and then Spencer handed me one of the babies, still wanting to hold one.

Once we got to the hospital, Spencer went with the nurses who took the babies to get checked out. I was taken by other nurses who set me up in a room and made sure I was okay. While he was gone I asked one of my nurses to bring Diana and our friends up to my room.

Diana was a little confused for a minute when she saw me, but luckily her son walked in with a rolling bassinet at just the right moment, parking it next to my bed.

"Spencer's here," I told her softly.

She looked up at him and after a second she rushed into his arms and he embraced her happily, crying.

"Hi, Mom," he murmured.

She pulled back and took his face into her hands. "Don't you ever leave me again."

"I won't," He told her, pulling her back in for a hug. "I love you."

She said it back and after a bit, he was the one to pull back.

"Mom, I have a surprise for you. For all of you, actually," He said, looking at our friends. He smiled as he handed me one baby and then picked up the other and turned to face the group.

Everyone gasped or looked at us wide eyed.

There was a chorus of attempted quiet reactions from the team while Diana moed closer to us, some recognition beginning to spark in her eyes. I could see Garcia using every ounce of her strength not to freak out and accidentally scare her.

"Am I a grandma?" She asked, tentativel.

"Yeah, you are," Spencer answered, warmly.

Diana looked back and forth between us, confused. "But I thought there was only one?"

Spencer chuckled, gesturing to the blue bundle in his arms. "Yeah, we thought so too, until this little guy showed up unannounced."

"He's shocking people just like his father already," She grinned, earning a light laugh from all of us. "Well, do they have names yet?"

"Well, we have a girl name since we knew we were having a daughter, but we are still trying to figure out a boy name since he was a surprise," I answered.

"What's the girl's name?" she asked, sitting on the bed next to me. Spencer sat on my other side.

"Say hello to Amelia Diana Reid," We told her happily as I shifted the pink blanket away from our daughter's face so she could see better.

She gasped again and looked back and forth between Spencer and I in shock once more before smiling and gently hugging us. Awwww's filled the room at the scene.

"The middle name obviously needs no explanation, but the meaning behind the first name is something we want to share. Neither of us had good fathers and I don't have a good mother. So Amelia is the closest thing we could think of as a kind of combination of Aaron and Emily, our work mom and dad,"I explained, smiling adoringly at Emily.

She came over and embraced us carefully. "Thank you. I wish Hotch were here. I think you two are the only ones beside Jack that can get him to smile, and this would definitely turn that stoic frown upside down."

We giggled and so did several of our team members.

I helped Diana hold Amelia for a little bit, and then our son in turn until she started to be less lucid and wanted to rest. Emily had arranged for her to sleep and be cared for in a room close by ours so she could be near us. JJ took her to that room with a nurse and the others left our room for a little while so I could feed the twins. We were burping and changing them when everyone came back.

As soon as she was able to, Penelope pretty much exploded, accidentally interrupting Spencer as he was trying to tell me something. "Oh my gosh TWINS? Two baby geniuses for the price of one! This is the best news ever and I am going to buy tons of stuff for baby boy since you're gonna need double the baby supplies and you only have girl stuff right now and I am going to love them and hug them and be there for them and teach them lots of cool things and-"

"Garcia, breathe," Rossi said, patting her on the back as we all giggled. He turned to us, "Congratulations, both of you."

"Oh they're so precious, guys!"JJ cooed, coming over for a closer look. She was very careful as she hugged us,"You know, anything you need, I'm here for you. Okay?"

"Yeah same, we got you," Luke agreed.

"Well done, Dr. and Mrs, Reid," Tara said in admiration.

"Thanks everyone," we responded happily.

"You did good, mama. The babies are beautiful," Morgan said, leaning down and kissing me on the head as he touched Amelia's hand with his pinky finger. He smiled over at Spencer, "You too, kid. Gideon would be proud of you, you know."

The look on Spencer's face brought me to tears. I'd only been on the team a short time before Gideon left, but I did get to briefly experience the kind, caring, brilliant man he was, who loved Spencer like his own son and knew him better than he knew himself. He even knew the second Spencer and I met that we were falling for each other because he would pair us up a lot and whenever we were together or he caught us looking at one another, he got a look on his face like he was seeing something we were not. He later told Spencer this in his letter and told him to hold on to me and to not let the job get in the way of us. He said to find solace in each other and remind each other of the good things in the world when we were bogged down by all the bad things we saw at work.

This was what finally gave Spencer the courage to ask me out and thank God for that because I was going out of my mind over him by that point and I was so close to just giving up entirely.

Suffice it to say, that man meant the whole world to Spencer and by extention, to me as well. His loss had been beyond devastating for us and I had since been looking for a way to honor his memory....

I looked at my husband, "Hey love, what were you saying before Garcia's outburst?"

"Hmm?" He mumbled, having been pulled out of whatever thought process he was in, "Oh, I was saying I have an idea for our son's name..."

"Oh? What is it?" I asked, curiously.

"I noticed that the medic who delivered the twins had a nametag that said Elliot and I really liked it because it makes me think of the author T.S. Eliot, but also because it reminds me of my friend Elle who used to work with us and who I miss very much. So I was thinking we could name him Elliot, if you're okay with it, of course," He whispered, rambling a bit excitedly.

I knew who Elle was. He and some of the others had talked about her a lot and she seemed like a good person who had just been through a lot. She was like an older sister to Spencer and the name was really cute and meaningful so I was sold.

"I love it...and I have a suggestion for his middle name," I told him, eagerly.

"What?" he asked.

"Gideon," I whispered back, tentatively.

He stared at me for a second with his huge puppy eyes, looking like he was about to cry. He nodded fervently, his eyes moving to his tiny carbon copy sleeping in his arms. He'd barely taken his eyes off the twins since they'd been born and watching him become so enamored by them made me fall even more in love with him.

"Hey guys, we came up with a name for our son," He said out loud, grabbing everyone's attention as he lifted one of the baby's hands, waving it. "I'd like you all to meet Elliot Gideon Reid."

Tara and Luke only partially connected the dots, since they only knew stories of Gideon and Morgan had just mentioned him.

The rest of the team, however, got both names immediately and there was not a dry eye amongst them. More hugs happened and then everyone took their turns holding the twins and talking with us for awhile until they saw us having trouble staying awake. They handed the babies back and quietly made their way out, one by one.

We put the twins in their bassinet and Spencer curled up next to me while we stared at them.

"Welcome to the world, Amelia and Elliot," we whispered. "We love you."

***********************************

EPILOGUE(Spencer POV):

I was reinstated to the FBI, after some substantial time off to be with my wife and new babies, with mandatory sabbaticals every so often. I did my best to balance work and home, actually electing to stay behind with Garcia sometimes so I could be close to home. A few years later, we had another set of twins, this time both showing up on the sonograms. They were a boy and girl again, and we named them Lilliana Jennifer Reid and Theodore Morgan Reid(Lilly and Theo for short).

Then, another year and a half later, we got pregnant with our last child, a complete surprise since we were told we could not have any more. We named her Davina Penelope Reid, Davina being the closest female name to David(for Rossi).

After that, we were done and our family was complete. Of course, the team adored them and spoiled them rotten. We also realized not long after Amelia and Elliot were born that my mom would be much better cared for in a facility, which was very difficult for me to come to terms with. Fortunately, we found an amazing facility nearby. She's actually thriving there and she loves her grandbabies so much. We bring them to visit her or bring her home sometimes. She often reads to them or teaches them about literature and history the way she taught me.

Life is good. And I am thankful for every day with my gorgeous wife, my five wonderful children, my awesome friends and of course, my mother.

***********************************************

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fiction-boys-rule · 11 months ago

Text

To Just Be

Pairing: Eliot Spencer/Reader (non gender specified)

Warnings: slight swearing, mental health topics, fluff

Summary: Your mental state takes a turn and you find yourself slipping back into bad habits. Eliot helps to comfort you and the both of you spend a cozy night together.

The music seems too loud in the small space of your bedroom but the thought of silence perturbes you more. The mattress is too soft but not hard enough at the same time. The feeling of your clothes on your skin is driving you insane. You are too cold and too hot at the same time, the only movement in the room being your fan and your feet adjusting the sheets every few minutes.

You’re overstimulated, to say the least.

The phone in your hands is warm from using it for the past few hours. You can’t seem to stop your hands from doom scrolling.

Down, down, down.

What was the trick that the podcaster said? Ask yourself what the last three videos were about to see if you are doom scrolling?

Shit.

Different ideas pass through your mind, in a blur. Ideas about better things you could be doing to comfort yourself in this state instead of worsening it. There’s that new book you’ve been meaning to read, your favorite childhood movie, the stack of coloring books you bought a few months ago…

That’s all they are, fleeting thoughts and ideas. Pulling yourself away from the phone screen and leaving your bedroom is a daunting task. You want to sleep and be transported into a mental state of nothing, but you aren’t physically tired enough yet.

A soft knock on your bedroom door makes you jump. It cracks open, revealing a curious Eliot.

“Hey, sweetheart. I thought you weren’t home yet.”

“Oh, hi.”

“Were you asleep?”

You glance guiltily at your phone, “No,” you answer meekly.

“You didn’t hear me calling you?” “I guess not.”

He holds his stare for a bit longer than you are comfortable with.

“Bad day today?”

“I’m just tired.” you lie.

Eliot’s feet hesitate in the doorway and you know he doesn’t believe you. He knows you probably just don’t want to talk about it right now.

“I’m going to get started on dinner, okay?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Your response comes out quicker than you intended.

Eliot frowns and eventually asks, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You feel your stomach clench in protest at your response. You just don’t have the energy to deal with eating.

“Okay, alright. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

He slowly closes the door and you sigh.

Part of you feels bad for lying to him, but you’re so drained from the week it intimidates you thinking about having to explain yourself when you don’t even know what’s going on in your own mind. You want to comfort yourself in some way and have some sort of routine but you can’t decide what to do and it’s driving you crazy. You feel lost, both in the short and long term.

You have been thinking of where your professional life is going, the endless chores and errands, and the state of the world that you’re constantly being bombarded with on social media. You feel hopeless and nothing in your everyday life is helping you get out of it.

There’s been no specific trigger to your emotions, and you suspect that is the biggest stressor for you. It all started during your commute to work in the morning. You couldn’t choose music to play for the life of you and ended up resigning yourself to a quiet drive in order to not be running late.

During your lunch break you decided to visit one of your favorite cafes nearby. When you walked in and started to run through the different options on the menu, your mind went blank. Nothing seemed remotely appetizing, not even your usual favorite. When the barista called you over to order next, you panicked and ended up choosing the first option you saw. It was only afterwards that you realized what you had ordered and ended up doing a walk of shame back to your workplace. You drank the drink hastily to not have it go to waste, but it was a chore nevertheless.

During your commute back home, in silence once again, you encountered many terrible drivers and the closer you got to home, the more your mood soured.

Upon entering your living space, the reminders of future chores and errands that needed to be done were enough of a nuisance to send you surrendering into your bedroom.

Now a few hours later, here you still are. Your mind barely registers the now dark room and now you understand why Eliot seemed so concerned.

You distinctly register the sound of pots and pans and remember Eliot’s cooking. Almost on cue, your phone appears with a video of a delicious looking recipe and your stomach grumbles.

Using every ounce of energy you have left, you put your phone down. Your eyes stare up at the ceiling. Your mind is racing but hardly any of the thoughts are concrete or discernable. You just want a distraction, some way to lose control.

You sigh and sit up in your bed. Your back and neck protest from your previous position and you groan slightly. You don’t want to talk much tonight, but you figure you can try your best.

You make a quick trip to the bathroom before slowly continuing to the kitchen. Eliot is playing some old country music softly, the soft ambience and cooking sounds soothing you almost instantly. The overhead light isn’t on, just the stovetop, and you are extremely grateful. The smells pull you in further and your feet are moving before you can stop them.

Eliot turns at the sound of your approach.

“Hey, darlin’.” he greets softly.

“Hi.”

“I know you said you weren’t hungry, but I’m making your favorite. Didn’t want the food to go bad.”

Eliot sounds very unsure of himself at the moment, and it throws you off a bit.

“Thank you.”

He follows your lead of the conversation and doesn’t push you further. His attention returns to the pan and you watch attently as his hands add more ingredients.

“Go on and have a seat. It’s almost ready.”

You wish you could thank him more verbally, but you hope he knows your appreciation runs deep.

You stroll over and sit at the dining table, watching his back and the way he moves in the space. After a while, he plates and strolls over to you.

“Here you go, baby. I hope you like it.”

You nod and gingerly start to handle your utensils. He eventually sits and you both enjoy the peaceful environment. Once you’ve both finished, he picks up your plates and cleans off the dining table. He surprises you by turning the stovetop light off and heading to the living space. At your confusion, he holds both of your coats up.

“I think we should go get dessert.”

You smile and nod. You stand from your chair and meet him in the space. He gently turns your body and clothes your body with the coat. You can tell by his body language he wants to touch you, but is unsure. Your hands reach out and wrap around his middle, making him reciprocate. His chin settles on the top of your head and he sighs heavily in contentment.

You both pull away after a few moments and head out the door shortly thereafter. You find yourselves sitting on a park bench enjoying your favorite desserts. The park is calm, and the surrounding area holds little to no people. The fresh nighttime air has allowed your mind to come back to the present and you feel refreshed, even if it is just a little bit.

You return to your home afterwards and now you are able to look at your space in a different perspective. Eliot takes both of your coats off and hangs them up. He leads you to the couch and has you settle yourself before retreating into the hall. You are confused until you see him return with a basket of your self care items that you keep organized.

He sits next to you and hands you your favorite face mask and headband. You put your headband on and are about to stand when Eliot takes the mask from you.

“Here, turn around.”

You do, and your heart flutters as he places the face mask on you. He adjusts it a few times before leaning away and nodding. To your surprise, he moves in closer and hands another one to you with another headband. It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s asking you to do the same. Your chest warms, and you will your hands to move. You take your time, relishing in touching his face and gazing softly into his eyes. Once you finish, you lean back and giggle softly. He smiles, holding your hands.

“Now we match,” he says.

“Yes we do.” you whisper.

Eliot isn’t the biggest fan of watching tv, but he scrolls through different options until settling on an old animated children’s movie. You both move into each other’s spaces and find comfortable positions. Slowly, you feel yourself drifting into a peaceful state. His hands on your body and his warmth are steadily inducing you into a sleepy mood.

He catches your body’s signals and pats your side softly.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.” he whispers.

You wish to prolong your night, but you find yourself agreeing nonetheless.

He stands and accompanies you to the bathroom. Together, you prepare for bed and fall into your usual separate routines. You are in bed first, too tired to follow your more thorough nighttime routine. Eliot joins you soon after, his arms caressing you.

You decide to speak your thoughts before falling asleep. You hope your true feelings and emotions shine through your exhaustion.

“Thank you for everything. Thank you for taking the decisions away and just letting me…I don’t know, just be. I don’t know what’s wrong, but this helped. To just be.”

You stay in silence for a few beats, not expecting a response. You are glad you were able to express your thoughts, even if you don’t exactly know how to explain them.

“I’ll always be here for you. Just tell me, I’m always happy to just be with you. You don’t need to think or talk, you can just be with me. That’s all I need, just you. Nothing else.”

You squeeze him a little tighter at his words, and they allow for your body to finally slip into sleep fully, able to just be.

#leverage #eliot spencer #eliot leverage #eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer fanfic

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trekscribbles · 4 months ago

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Backslide Chapter 2

Fandom: Leverage

Cross-Posted: AO3 and FF

Summary:

They stopped Damien Moreau. They put him in jail in San Lorenzo where he'd never be able to hurt anyone else, and Eliot thought he was finally, finally free.

And then Moreau escaped.

And he has one last job for Eliot: to kill his team and anyone else he's gotten close to since leaving.

Chapter 1

He started with Quinn.

A text first, to ensure Quinn would pick up the phone when Eliot called.

Need a favor.

You still owe me from the last one, came the immediate reply.

Eliot dialed. The phone rang once, and then Quinn’s voice drawled in his ear. “Am I allowed to shoot people this time?”

“Yes,” Eliot said.

A long pause.

“Okay. I’m listening.”

Eliot cleared his throat. “What do you know about Damien Moreau?”

“Haven’t heard much about him lately.”

“You know I used to work for him?”

Quinn’s voice was carefully bland. “I did my research when Sterling hired me to take you out. His name came up with yours.”

“You know his reputation?” Eliot asked.

“I do.”

One more breath, one more moment of peace, and then—

“He offered me a job.”

Silence. Waiting. Eliot answered its invitation.

“It’s my team.”

“What do you need?” Quinn asked.

“He gave me three days,” Eliot said. “How soon can you get here?”

“Tonight.”

Eliot let out a relieved breath. “If things go as planned, this’ll be a nice vacation for you. If not... if I can’t get to Moreau before the deadline...”

“I’m the last line of defense?”

Eliot’s throat went dry. It sounded so much worse out loud.

“What does Nate think?” Quinn asked.

“He doesn’t know.”

“You sure that’s a good idea? He seemed to have a pretty good head for things like this.”

“He’ll tell the others,” Eliot said. “They won’t understand. They’ll try to stop me.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

Eliot tried to swallow, tried not to choke on his words. His voice came out raw, but even. “This is my job. Protecting them, taking care of threats. It’s my fault Moreau is after them, and I can’t... We tried it Nate’s way. We put him in jail, and he got out. He’ll keep getting out. If I don’t stop him now, my team dies. This is the only way.”

“I could go,” Quinn offered, and an unexpected surge of warmth mixed with the fear welling in Eliot’s chest. “You may have gone straight, but I still do things the easy way. If you hesitate at the wrong moment, it could go sideways fast.”

“I won’t hesitate,” Eliot said.

His voice was dark enough to end the discussion.

After that, there wasn’t much to prepare. He didn’t travel with luggage, and he didn’t need to bring his own weapons—he’d get what he needed once he found Moreau.

Then it was just the goodbyes.

He left them in his apartment, which had started to feel less like a home and more like a place he kept supplies between jobs. For Hardison, the collection of recipes and meal-and-beer pairings he’d been creating for the brewpub, typed into an email scheduled to send in four days. For Parker, a list of his bank accounts and passwords, enclosed in a small, folded note with her name on the front. For Nate, a summary of the best argument he could think of to convince Quinn to take his place on the team, and an inadequate line of thanks.

That left only one more. On a burner phone, he called a florist across town who advertised discreet deliveries. He gave them Sophie’s name for the card and dictated his final message via flower arrangement.

White bellflower.

Gratitude.

White lily.

Farewell.

White butterfly weed.

Let me go.

#leverage #eliot spencer #fanfic #my fic #leverage fanfic #backslide #mr. quinn #eliot and quinn #i just want them to be friends okay #hitter besties #eliot knowing and using flower language is one of my favorite and most niche headcanons #damien moreau

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petcr3 · 2 years ago

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Perchance to Dream | Eliot Spencer x Reader

summary: When Eliot’s partner doesn’t hear from him (or Hardison) during The Experimental Job, they get worried and contact the team. When the information they find doesn’t paint a pretty picture, Eliot and the reader have a somewhat emotional reunion.

word count: ~4.4k

warnings: frank discussion of sleep deprivation tor.ture, mentions of ptsd (though it is not explored in depth), mentions of medical abuse (insofar as it is depicted in the show)

a/n: i’m on my hurt/comfort shit again, but this time it’s eliot spencer flavored. very much had heal me by lady gaga on repeat in my head while writing this. funnily enough, also, eliot doesn’t mention the convo in this gif but it’s definitely on his mind, for what it’s worth.

You haven’t heard from Eliot in three days, and that spells trouble.

There are jobs where it’s expected, where cell service is bad or the cover is too deep for him to reach you, but any time other than that, the rule is every three days. Eliot always makes sure to show some sign of life, even if it’s a one word text with the agreed-upon sign off. Barring that, he has Hardison contact you to reassure you he’s all right–– or at least that he will be.

You argue with him, sometimes, that as scary as it can be, not knowing where he is or what he’s doing–– it’s what you signed up for. Eliot always counters that you didn’t know at the outset, and that’s the problem. You didn’t know what the hell you were signing up for when you took the job at McRory’s, and you didn’t know who you were getting into bed with the first night he touched you. You don’t know about the cons until they’re over and you don’t know–– don’t really know–– that he’s coming home until he crosses the threshold into your apartment.

Naturally, you have an answer for everything: that you may not have known Eliot’s past when you took him home, but you sure as hell knew the man. That you don’t need to know the details of every job because you know he and his friends are best at what they do. That you know he’ll always come home to you because he’d promised you that he would.

When you get on that particular jag, Eliot knows there’s no arguing with you, so he gives in. (Or, at least, he does his version of giving in, which consists of a sour expression and a minute or two of the silent treatment even though he’s inevitably got an arm draped around your shoulder or a hand on your knee.) For your part, you’ve learned to give him a little grace with regard to that particular insecurity. You may not agree with his idea that he’s bad news, but you can’t expect him to rid himself of it overnight. But you’re always firm: you’re with him because you want to be. Because you’ve heard the bad parts and weathered the difficulties and decided you’re all in.

Today, though, it’s particularly hard.

The fourth day is the wiggle room day. Often, if you haven’t heard from Eliot in this long, you check your phone at the end of a shift and find an apologetic text or a hasty voicemail from him or, if he’s really stretched thin, from the team’s resident hacker.

But today, for whatever reason, things at the pub are painfully slow and you’ve got little else to do but idly clean behind the bar and check your cell phone near-constantly. You’d sent the other bartender on shift home early and since it was a weekday, no one would be in the kitchen until four to start prepping for dinner. There’d been no sign of anyone, not Parker or Sophie or Hardison or even Nate, and you’d only had two customers all day, both regulars.

By a conservative estimate, you were checking your phone about three times a minute and eventually you decided you’d be of no use to anyone if your hands were shaking so bad you couldn’t pour a beer. With a flip of the sign so it read that you’d be back in twenty, you were on your way up to Nate’s apartment.

You weren’t a part of the team by any stretch of the imagination, but as the longest standing member of McRory’s staff you weren’t not a part of the team. There were certain things you were made privy to, partly because it made sense and partly because it was, frankly, too difficult to hide everything from you. With the pub acting as the de facto front offices of Leverage Inc, (as the team was still affectionately called in some circles) it makes sense to have someone behind the bar that’s a little higher up in the ranks. Sophie had trained you to become an excellent liar, Parker’s shown you a few emergency escape routes in case a job follows them home, Hardison taught you the ins and outs of the pub’s beefed up security system, and even before you started dating, Eliot had insisted on showing you some self defense, in case any criminals (not the fun kind) decided to show up.

But all that doesn’t quite extend to apartment access. You know Nate lives upstairs, and the other tenants have all come down for a drink at least once, so you’d long since figured out that the elusive Tom Baker listed in the directory was none other than your boss. Taking the elevator to the corresponding floor, you try not to storm down the hallway in abject panic. Once at the door, though, you can’t help but knock a little frantically. After a few seconds of nothing, you lift your hand again, only to be met with a somewhat bewildered looking Nate.

“What?” he asks, just this side of irritable, plucking his earbud out, “what’s going on, why aren’t you downstairs?” Over his shoulder, you can see Hardison, slumped forward over a desk, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You ignore Nate, zeroing in on Hardison only to hear a murmured apology and something along the lines of I know this has gotta be hell for you, man, but you got this. You start forward, but Nate crowds you out of the doorway.

“Hardison,” he calls, glancing over his shoulder, and once he has the younger man’s attention, he mimes taking something out from his ear. Hardison blinks slowly at him, then straightens up, removing his earpiece once he sees you.

“Hardison, what the hell?” you cry, pushing past Nate, who lets out a blustery sigh. Hardison frowns at you, confused. “It’s been more than three days,” you continue, “and I haven’t heard a word from either of you!” The realization seems to come to him slowly, as if through a fog, and he sighs once it hits him.

“Shit,” he hisses, eyes squeezing shut with frustration, “I knew I was forgetting something.” You look at him expectantly, leg jiggling anxiously in place. “Eliot’s fine,” he says, “job’s just running a little long. We got him undercover.”

“It’s gotta be hell for him?” you protest, throwing his own words back at him–– and feeling a little guilty for being demanding like this when Hardison is clearly exhausted. But you can’t help it; even in the worst of times, Eliot and Hardison are constantly trading jabs–– If the hacker is extending that much of an olive branch, it means they’re about to be on the ropes… if they aren’t already.

“He’s fine,” Nate says, a little more firmly than kindly, before Hardison has a chance to go on. “He’s just undercover doing a sleep study. You know how he is. Why don’t you go back downstairs, huh?” He fixes you with a look, and though it’s a little stern, you also get the sense that he’s pleading with you to get out of their hair.

“Just let me talk to him,” you try. Nate almost laughs.

“Listen,” he says, “that’s about the last thing Eliot needs right now.” As much as the sentiment irks you, you know Nate is right. If Eliot knows you’re worried about him, it’ll distract him from the con. “Let him focus on the job,” Nate appeals, as if he’s reading your mind. “The sooner we get done what we need to do, the sooner you get him back, all right?” After studying him for a few moments, you grit your jaw and give a curt nod. You start to leave, but you catch Hardison’s eye on your way out.

“I need another update tomorrow,” you say. “Please?” Hardison nods gravely.

“He’s all right,” he says, “you know I’d tell you if he wasn’t.” He holds your gaze for a moment, and for all the frustration you feel, you nod. Of all of them, you know Hardison will give you the truth.

Back downstairs, the kitchen crew has arrived and is getting set up for the dinner rush. It winds up being surprisingly busy, considering the slow morning, but you’re grateful for anything to keep your mind off of Eliot and whatever the hell it is that he’s dealing with.

The next day you’re on the closing shift. You receive a text from Hardison around noon telling you that Eliot is okay. You thank him profusely before getting started on the things you need to get done before work. Finally, around the time you have to leave for your shift, you’re starting to feel better. Maybe this job is a tougher one, but with communications smoothed out, you feel reassured. It won’t be the first time Eliot has come back to you a little worse for the wear. And if he’s actually doing a sleep study like Nate said, maybe he’ll find out a few useful tidbits of information. A happy accidental byproduct.

The day is actually going pretty well until you practically crash into Sophie on the sidewalk outside the pub.

“Oh, bloody Nora!” she cries, one hand pressed to her chest as you bend down to pick up your keys, similarly startled. When you straighten up, you can tell right away that something’s wrong. Sophie may be an expert grifter, but you’ve caught her unawares.

“Sophie?” you ask, “What’s going on?” She studies you for a moment, biting her lip, and eventually sighs.

“Now listen, I’ve got to go or the whole thing is blown, just–– they’re all safe now, Parker’s taking care of Hardison and Eliot’s out of the experiment, all we have to do is––”

“Experiment?”

“It’s… really, all things considered, it’s not that bad, it––”

“Sophie,” you cut her off again, “please just tell me.” She frowns.

“Eliot went undercover into a university experiment where they were…” she sighs, “they were running sleep deprivation torture on groups of homeless men.”

Your eyes widen and you swallow thickly. Eliot hasn’t told you everything about his time in the army–– in fact, you doubt he’s told you most of it–– but he’d told you about sleep deprivation torture. How he’d been on the giving and receiving end of it, how he wouldn’t wish it on anyone, how he only understood just how evil it was once he’d been through it himself. And now he’s going through it again.

You notice, distantly, that Sophie has taken hold of your arm.

“I need to go, or the whole job could fall apart.” She levels her gaze at you. “Listen to me,” she says seriously, “Eliot is okay. Hardison’s okay. We’ll all see you tonight.” And with that, she’s off, leaving you struck dumb in the street.

Everyone at McRory’s can tell you’re on edge. You deliver the wrong orders to the wrong guests, you pour pints that are all foam. The crowd tonight is mostly regulars, which you’d be grateful for if you weren’t so preoccupied. Your coworkers pick up some of the slack, knowing you must be worried about Eliot. They don’t know exactly what he does, and no one believes any of the lies he spouts–– you keep telling him to stick to one, but he only grins and shakes his head: now where’s the fun in that?–– but they’ve all been around long enough to have seen him coming in black and blue, cut up, or worse. There are all kinds of theories floating around about the team, though none come close to the reality–– or at the very least, those who have figured it out are smart enough to keep their mouths shut.

With your relationship with Eliot being pretty much an open secret among the staff, no one bats an eye when the team straggles in and you go flying into the hitter’s arms. “Eliot,” you say, breathless, “thank god.”

He receives you with a quiet grunt at the impact, and where he might normally be a little wary at such a public display of emotion, you feel him sigh, relaxing into your touch.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your hair.

“Hi baby,” you croak in reply, the sound muffled against his shoulder. Eliot presses a kiss to your temple and you force yourself to pull away and look at him. The others file past you, and you reach for Hardison with one hand, catching his arm. Eliot lets you out of his hold, and though you miss the contact, you’re stunned to see Hardison is more bruised and battered than Eliot. “Holy shit,” you mumble, “what happened to you?”

“Joined a frat,” he says with a tired smile. You frown, concern pulling at your features as you look him over. “Don’t worry,” he says, giving your hand a squeeze, “your boy and my girl got me all patched up. I’m good.” He winces. “Or I will be.” You nod, letting go of his hand.

“Thank you, Hardison,” you say, “Really.” He winks.

“Any time, chica. I’ll see you later, all right?”

“See you,” you reply, already seeking Eliot’s touch again before you’ve even turned back to look at him. He takes your hands and studies you.

“How’d you find out what was going on, hmm?” he asks gently, thumb running over your knuckles. “You never get this worried unless someone gets in touch.” You sigh and lean into him again.

“Well, when I didn’t hear from you or Hardison, I got worried. I stormed up to Nate’s apartment and then I ran into Sophie, and…” You shake your head. “I just had to know you were okay.” He nods, though the look in his eyes is a little far away.

“I’m okay,” he says, though his voice is a little rougher than usual. You frown.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He hesitates, like he’s about to say more. He takes your hands in his, looks down at them like they’ll do the work for him. After a moment, it comes.

“Hey,” he says, “think you could, uh… take me home?”

The question practically strikes you down where you stand. Instead of doing what you want to–– instead of wrapping him in your arms and marching him out to your car, you throw a nervous glance over your shoulder.

“I–– I’m on shift,” you offer hoarsely, but before you can manage an apology, your coworker Natalie (who has been standing a little closer to the proceedings than you may have liked) interrupts.

“Are you kidding me?” she quips, “Jake’s already on his way to cover you. Get the hell out of here.” Gratitude and relief flood your features all at once.

“Really?”

“I already clocked you out, like a minute ago, so. Go. Seriously.” You look back to Eliot, who has the decency to look a little sheepish, and then skitter over to the bar to wrap your friend in an awkward hug across the lacquered wood.

“Thank you, Natty. I owe you one.” She waves you off.

“Oh, whatever. Cover my Saturday morning sometime next month so I can actually go out on a Friday.”

“Done.”

“Then we’re even,” she replies with a wink. You turn back to Eliot and he nods at the two of you.

“I’ll meet you outside,” he says, and you hurry to the back to get your things.

When you step out into the cool air, Eliot is leaned up against your car, waiting, brow furrowed in thought.

“Hey,” you say quietly, though you know the odds of startling him are slim to none. He looks up, and though he seems weary, he smiles at you. “I never got to give you a kiss,” you continue, “if you want one.” His smile widens a little at that.

“C’mere,” he says, the word caught halfway between an invitation and a plea. You lean in and take his face in your hands, pressing your mouth to his and he meets your tenderness with searing heat. You gasp softly against his lips, fingers of one hand sliding back into his hair, his hand fitting snugly against the small of your back. He kisses you like he’s afraid it will be the last time, leaving you breathless when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours.

“Whoa,” you manage. Eliot lets out a clipped chuckle.

“Sorry,” he says, stealing another kiss, this one only a chaste peck, “sorry, I…” He shakes his head, the ends of his hair tickling your cheeks. “Felt like I was never gonna see you again.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you counter, “that was… I needed that. Trust me.” You offer a small smile as you skim your thumb across his cheek. “Now how about we get out of here, yeah?” Eliot gives the slightest of nods, a hum of agreement, but it’s a moment before he can make himself let go of you to head for the passenger seat.

The drive isn’t long, and Eliot tilts his head back against the seat and shuts his eyes. You don’t know it, but this is the first time since the university that he’s felt safe enough to do it for more than a few seconds. He doesn’t sleep, though, only listens to the quiet sounds of the road, the barely audible hush of your breathing.

With a little luck, you’re able to park close to your building, and Eliot hovers close as you make your way into the apartment. An almost tangible relief settles over the both of you once the lock slides home, and Eliot settles heavily onto the couch as you step out of your shoes. Wordlessly, you climb astride his lap and he pulls you close, face buried against your chest. His hair’s a little tangled as you start to comb your fingers through it, but you’re patient with the knots, coaxing them free so you don’t hurt him. He thumbs absent circles at the base of your spine in fits and starts, sometimes stopping and just letting you comfort him.

You can’t be sure how much time passes like that, Eliot’s breath warm against your skin, your hands in his hair, but eventually you’ve got all the knots out. You press a kiss to the crown of his head.

“Hey,” you whisper, “you hungry, sweetheart?” Slowly, he lifts his head, hair mussed adorably, thanks to your involvement.

“I could make something,” he says, expression a little foggy, though you don’t think he’d actually fallen asleep while you held him.

“Like hell you can,” you counter gently, “you’re not lifting a finger tonight. We can do takeout, hm?”

“All right,” he concedes, looking up at you fondly.

“What sounds good?” Eliot unwraps his arms from around you and begins to trail his hands lightly up and down the length of your forearms as he weighs his options.

“Indian?” he says after a moment, “Maybe Thai?”

“Ooh, let’s do Indian; that sounds good.”

“You got it, sweetheart.” You can’t resist ducking down for a quick kiss before you disentangle yourself from Eliot’s lap, swiping your phone off the coffee table.

“You want your usual?” you ask, opening up the delivery app. Eliot is up right after you and he steps behind you and slings an arm around your waist, kissing the top of your shoulder. Warmth blooms in your chest.

“Please,” he says. “‘M gonna go take a shower. That all right?” You twist your head so you’re looking at him.

“Of course it is.” He kisses the crease that forms in your brow, then your nose, and with that, he strides off into the bathroom.

You wish he didn’t feel like he had to ask permission. Sure, this may be your apartment, but it’s as much his now as you are. He’s made a home here and in your heart, and you know he knows you’d give him anything he asked for–– and feel fuller because of it.

You also know that Eliot is a man who feels he needs permission to walk this earth. You know that every day he struggles to forgive himself for the things he’s done, asks penance for every good thing he accepts into his life now. As you change into your pajamas, you wish you could make him understand just how deserving he is. Of life, of happiness, of love.

When the doorbell rings, the water has shut off, and you buzz in the delivery driver. You’re doling the food out onto plates when Eliot pads into the kitchen, having traded his everyday garb for sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Feeling better?” you ask, turning from your work to take him in in all his cozy glory. He hums the affirmative and stands beside you to finish making his plate. Once you’re both settled at the table, you finally broach the subject.

“El, do you wanna talk about it?” He gives a noncommittal shrug, takes a forkful of food.

“What’d they tell you?” He doesn’t look at you.

“Not a whole lot,” you admit, “but I know you just went through at least a couple of days of sleep deprivation.” You don’t say the word torture, but then you don’t really need to. Eliot nods. He doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“Kept telling myself it’d be easy. That I’d done it before and there was a clear end in sight.” He looks up at you meaningfully, now. “Somebody to come home to.” You frown, bottom lip pinched between your teeth, and nod. “But that’s the thing about it; you lose time, start feeling delirious. Had the team in my ear the whole time, but…” He shakes his head. “It was a little too much like bein’ back there for my taste.”

You don’t know exactly where this particular ‘there’ is, but you know there are a few dark places Eliot goes when he’s sleeping, or even sometimes when he’s awake. His trauma isn’t easy for him to talk about, but you know he grapples with it often.

“Place was recruiting guys out of homeless shelters–– buncha rich kids offering three meals, a place to stay, and 50 bucks a day. Said they were studying PTSD, fuckin’ animals.” He’s getting more impassioned as he continues, but his voice is still quiet. “Pickin’ vets up off the street just to make ‘em relive the worst moments of their lives, trying to figure out how to break people––” Eliot cuts himself off, grits his teeth, and takes a slow breath. He looks at you, expression melting from angry to rueful. “Same kid behind it all had his frat beat the hell outta Hardison once they found out who I was. Got the location where they were keeping him outta the interrogator down there in less than two minutes.”

“Sounds like he got what was coming to him,” you say evenly. Eliot scoffs, and you can feel the way he deflects the vitriol away from you and onto himself.

“I’m no better’an them,” he says bitterly, not meeting your gaze, “not really. Gave me an excuse and I did the same thing they were doing.”

“El,” you say, “come on, that’s not true.” He makes himself look at you again. His eyes shine with guilt.

“Isn’t it?”

You stand up and drag your chair closer to his and then sit back down, putting a hand on his knee.

“Not for a second. Baby, you’re comparing yourself to men who used their power to abuse people already down on their luck. You did one bad thing to a very bad man, and you did it to save your friend.” He avoids your eyes again, jaw working silently. “And it’s eating you alive!” you cry. “Look at me,” you plead, “look at me.”

He does and your gaze is like sunlight. The warmth feels so good he can’t stand it.

“Bad people don’t worry about the things they’ve done,” you continue, “Bad people–– truly bad people–– don’t feel remorse the way you do. Bad people don’t break their backs to help people like you do. Bad people don’t love like you do… so fiercely. And so much.” Eliot is staring down at his plate, brow furrowed so deep it looks almost painful. But he nods. A little bit, he nods.

You don’t know if it’s because you’ve gotten through to him or because he wants you to feel like you have, but slow and steady has always won the race with Eliot. He reaches down to take your hand and continues eating dinner with his left. You drag your plate over, keeping your fingers laced with his, and finish your own food with your right.

Eliot insists, gently, on doing the dishes, and though you spend a few moments with your arms wrapped around him from behind, cheek pressed against his back, eventually you shuffle off to start getting ready for bed.

By the time he’s finished up, you’ve got the covers turned down on his side while you’re tucked under on yours, sitting up, waiting for him. He stands next to the bed a moment, looking apprehensive.

“What can I do?” you ask quietly. “To make it easier, I mean. Is there anything I can do?” His lips quirk into a small smile.

“You’re already doing it, sweetheart.” Eliot takes a breath and turns out the bedside lamp, crawling into bed beside you. As you lower yourself so you’re laying down, he holds out his arm, offering you your usual spot nestled against his chest. You lay your head down and he tucks his arm around you. Finally, you both feel like everything is right again.

“You sure you don’t wanna be the little spoon for a change?” you whisper, though you’re already making yourself comfortable–– an arm draped over his stomach, one ankle tucked between both of his.

“Nah,” he replies, leaning his cheek against your hair, “missed you. Missed this.” Carefully, you tilt your head back and place a soft kiss to his lips.

“You know you’re safe with me,” you say, though it sounds more like a question.

“I know.” He means it.

“I love you, Eliot.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“If you need me, wake me up, all right?” you say as you settle back into his chest.

“I’ll try––” he stops himself. “I will.”

“Good,” you whisper. It gets quiet, then, and you focus on the sound of Eliot’s heartbeat, the warmth of having him in your bed again, his arms around you. Eventually, you drift off to the sound of his slow, even breathing.

In the years that come, you’re fairly certain you can count on one hand the times Eliot has fallen asleep before you. This night is one of them.

#eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer imagine #eliot spencer x gn reader #leverage x reader #leverage imagine #christian kane x reader #christian kane imagine #also tho;#christian kane /#welp here we go

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fablesrose · 1 year ago

Text

Ch 3 - The Second David Job

Masterlist

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: Part two, the season finale. Y/n finally learns what Nate does for work and aids in the payback this time.

Words: 3049

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was odd, I hadn’t heard from Nate almost the whole time I was staying in LA. I had tried to call him a couple of times, but when he did pick up, the phone calls were brief, he wouldn’t tell me where he was, and just seemed secretive and dodgy. More than usual at least.

Maggie was busy helping at the museum, and with the Blackpoole exhibit being set up, she was working overtime. I mostly stayed at her apartment, working on my laptop that I brought with me. Luckily this project that I was working on was coming to a close which should leave me free for the opening of the exhibit and then flying back to Boston. As nice as it was here in LA, I missed home. Realistically there was nothing keeping me here, I did love art, growing up with both Nate and Maggie as guardians, but I didn’t need to stay for the exhibit. I guess I kept expecting Nate to call me. I wanted to help him. I guess this client is here too though.

I got a call one afternoon from Maggie.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey y/n, can you take a break from your work today?”

I looked at the clock, I had been working for a while, “Yeah, I can do that. What’s going on?”

“I just got a call from Professor Sinclair asking to catch up, and I don’t really want to go alone, I feel like there might be something going on.”

“You want me to either crash or stalk you two on your date?” I couldn’t hide the displeasure from my voice.

“It’s not a date. Besides, he was much more into you when we met him last.” She had a slight tease in her voice that I scoffed at.

“I call bull. He didn’t call me to ask to catch up.” I felt my stomach twist a bit. Figures he would ask my hot divorced aunt out.

“I don’t think he has your number, y/n.”

“Touche.”

“Please? Just sit a few tables away and if you get uncomfortable there’s a couple of shops right around the corner that I know you’ll love. You can bail at any time.”

I sighed, “Fine, but you owe me. You treat me more like a cousin, or a sister than a niece, you know that?”

“You love me, see you there.”

“No comment.”

I walked in a little after Maggie, choosing a spot a couple tables away, behind Adam so I could see Maggie’s face. I was close enough that I could hear them if I wanted to, but far enough that I could tune out as well. I ordered water since I didn’t think I would be there long. Maggie was right though, the surrounding stores did look appealing.

I watched Maggie look Adam over, then make eye contact and wink at me when he wasn’t looking. Weird. I had no idea what that meant. I tuned into their conversation to see what was going on.

“We’re not going to talk about art all afternoon are we?” Maggie asked Adam.

All afternoon? I was definitely not staying that long.

Adam answered no.

“Good, that’s all my ex husband wanted to talk about. That was so tedious.” She said it with a smile.

I frowned. I knew they had their problems, that’s why they got divorced, but she never spoke about Nate like that. Especially to a virtual stranger. What is going on?

“Listen,” Maggie placed her hand over Adam’s on the table and I could see him stiffen, “I want to thank you. I haven’t dated much since my marriage broke up.”

I groaned. Of course she conned me, it was obviously a date. I couldn’t stand this much longer and started to gather my things. When I looked up she had forceful eye contact with me that told me to stay put.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Adam replied.

“No, don’t be. He was obsessive, perfectionist, controlling.”

“He must have had some good qualities.”

Maggie scoffed, “No, not even in bed.”

I sputtered in my water. Gross, I did not want to hear this. I begged Maggie for mercy across the room.

“But worst of all, he completely forgot that I gave him that same button camera for Christmas three years ago.” She smiled and waved me over.

I was so confused, but got up and joined them. Adam turned around and saw me, his face defeated.

“Hey y/n.”

I nodded, “Adam.”

Maggie marched over to a van in the parking lot and I followed quickly after. She opened it to reveal the airport receptionist, the Italian woman, the second David seller, and Nate, all sitting together.

“I can explain.”

The drive to the random mansion was dead silent, but once we arrived, Maggie and Nate started arguing. I figured I would get my chance to rip him apart afterwards, so I didn’t join in yet. I stood in the doorway glancing between them arguing and the others grouped at the stairs.

“I feel used.” The guy who I thought was named Adam said.

I turned a bit towards them, “Same.”

Maggie stormed outside with Nate close behind, “It’s going great,” he said as he walked out the door.

The former Italian woman, now British, replied, “we can tell!”

The house was eerily quiet once the yelling was gone.

“So,” I looked at the four people in front of me, “are you this team Nate mentioned for his consulting thing he was doing? If that is what was going on? Or whatever?”

The young man who posed as the second David seller spoke up first, “yeah, that’s us. He didn’t lie to you about that, just the means of which we do it. I’m Hardison, resident computer guy. Thanks for the help with the supplement lawsuit thing I had to do.”

That made me smile, “Glad to hear I was of any help at all.”

The British woman approached me next, her hand outstretched, “Sophie, actor, art thief, grifter, take your pick.” She smiled with a confidence I could never hope to achieve when I shook her hand.

Hardison introduced Parker as a thief before the last member stood from the stairs and stepped up to me.

“And I’m Eliot, official title is retrieval specialist, these guys call me a hitter.” When he wasn’t acting as Adam, his voice was a bit gruffer, a little deeper. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his long hair down. I noticed without his glasses just how blue his eyes were.

“Well, it seems you might have some other talents too. Those soup recipes were a lifesaver.”

His lips quirked up toward a smile and I thought I saw some color in his cheeks before he ducked his head in a nod and went to sit down again.

Nate and Maggie came back and she came up to me, tears still in her eyes, “did… did you know about Sam’s treatment?”

I looked between her, Nate, and the rest of the team, “I had an inkling. They wouldn’t pay for it right?” I looked at Nate to see the slight nod, “Who do you think helped Nate do the research on it?” My lip quivered thinking back. How happy we were that we might have found something that would help, but it didn’t make a difference. I was in the middle of a project, across the country when they called. Sam died.

Nate came and placed a hand on my shoulder before pulling me into a hug, Maggie joining shortly after.

It was decided to regroup the next day to go over the plan.

“And that, that’s the plan.” Nate placed a final push pin with string attached to the board with all the designs.

“You actually expect this to work?” Maggie was clearly skeptical.

“No no, you’re supposed to say ‘wow, that’s just crazy enough to work.’” Hardison replied.

“Incredibly, chance does seem to bend itself to his bizarre machinations” Sophie commented with a relaxed air.

Parker leaned next to Maggie’s ear, “that’s his super power.” She sniffed her shoulder as she pulled away.

Maggie looked over to me and I just shrugged.

“Okay, now, do you have what we need?” Nate asked Maggie.

“I have to check museum inventory.”

“Oh, easy.”

Hardison typed his way on his laptop before turning it toward Maggie.

“This is confidential, you’re not reading my emails are you?”

Hardison quickly responded, “no, no,” before nodding at Nate that he did.

I piped up, “I was right, you do a lot more exciting things on your computer than I do.”

Hardison smiled at me before Maggie confirmed.

“This is the only thing big enough for what you need.” She turned the laptop toward Nate.

“Great. Okay, now how soon can you get that in the restoration room?”

“Now that’s not my department. You have to convince the museum director Darien Lloyd to pull it from the display.”

“Okay.”

“Nate?”

“Hmm?”

“You can’t just make somebody do what you want them to do.”

There was a pause before Eliot said, “Whoa!”

“That’s what we do, I mean…” Hardison laughed.

“You’re adorable,” Parker said while stroking Maggie’s hair.

I had to admit, “That’s a bit naive, even for you Maggie. Our society is built on persuasive techniques and making people do things, for various reasons.”

Everyone just looked at me and nodded as I shrugged.

We quickly got going to set up the con. Maggie, Sophie, and Parker were at the museum while Nate, Harison, Eliot, and I were at the mansion watching and listening through cameras and comms. We watched and listened as there was a handoff between Parker and Maggie which led to Maggie subtly pushing the director towards the Egyptian room, all while laying clues for the con on him.

Sophie then dropped hints about the curse surrounding the sarcophagus while posing as a museum director from Cairo.

Eliot leaned over to me, “Good call about the curse by the way.”

Hardison concurred, “yeah, look, he’s already scared, he’s looking up all the places the sarcophagus was before there, lots of dead people. D-E-D dead people.”

Nate and Eliot both spelled dead correctly.

“I was throwing a little style up, just a little bit. A little style. I know how to spell dead, damn it. I can steal a bank, I can spell dead.”

I laughed, “Thanks, but I think it really comes down to Sophie and Maggie’s setup here, along with your expert hacking skills with those articles, Hardison.”

“You are a flatterer, woman. Are you sure this guy raised you?”

I shouldered Nate next to me, “unfortunately.”

I could feel his glare, but I just watched as Maggie hit the point home talking about the supposed fungus that surrounded Egyptian artifacts that were claimed to be cursed.

The boys left shortly after to move the sarcophagus, leaving me at the mansion. I looked over the plans a couple of more times while they were gone. Maggie stayed at the museum while everyone else came back. They got to working on something when Nate came into the planning area where I was.

“So what do you think?”

“I don’t know yet, I guess we’ll just have to see how this plays out.”

“No,” Nate stepped up next to me, “I mean, about all of this, the whole thing.”

I looked up at him, “I wish you would have told me. Why didn’t you? Did you think I wasn’t going to approve or something?”

“I just didn’t want you wrapped up in it.”

I hummed at him. “Well I think you are doing some pretty cool things, I’d be happy to be a part of it. Not that I could help much.”

“Maybe.”

There was some commotion behind us with the rest of the group arguing a bit before it fell quiet. I started walking towards the entry where they were, “It seems like you have a good team here though. I’m glad you have them, that you have each other.”

“They are the best.”

“That’s good…” I stared at the portrait they had hung on the mantle, “what is that?”

Nate looked at the picture of himself, just much older, “Don’t ask.”

“Okay.”

The next day was when the exhibit opened. Everyone had their roles and places for the day. Now, just to put it in motion.

Nate and I entered the museum arm in arm when Blackpoole and Sterling approached.

“Well well well, what the hell are you doing here?”

Nate held up two tickets, “Well I bought some tickets for me and my niece. It’s open to the public.”

“I don’t think…” Sterling started to say, glancing between the two of us.

“Of course, enjoy yourselves.” Blackpoole let us pass.

After looking at the art for a while, there was loads of commotion and chaos, just as planned. I let Nate go to the roof while I rendezvoused with the others. We watched as he dropped down from the skylight. The security system activated, locking us in.

“Let’s go to work.”

I helped them complete the task before they slipped me back outside in the crowd where I found Maggie.

“Maggie, what’s going on? I got separated from Nate in the confusion, have you seen him?”

Sterling was right next to us along with Blackpoole and the museum director. Sterling stared at me accusingly, but didn’t say anything.

I followed them inside the building, once we reached the closed exhibit doors Sterling said, “This is your last chance Maggie. Come clean.” He looked over to me, “you too y/n.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The doors finally opened to reveal Nate standing in a spotlight in front of the two Davids, in their case.

“The two Davids,” Blackpoole giggled, “Thank God.”

“Got you Nate,” Sterling said.

“Yes, that was the whole point,” Nate replied.

“What do you mean?”

“You know all that chasing me around? ‘Don’t let Nate Ford near the two Davids, how’s Nate Ford going to get the two Davids?’ I wasn’t the mastermind on this one, Sterling… I’m the bait.”

He counted down from three for the lights to come on and reveal the walls, empty from all the art that previously decorated it.

Blackpoole broke down in disbelief and horror. There was over $150 million worth of art that was missing. And he was responsible for all of it. It was insured by IYS which would cause a major hit to his career and company.

“Well done,” Sterling had to admit.

Blackpoole grabbed a gun off of a guard’s belt and pointed it at Nate’s head, “where are they?! Where are they?!”

“Nate!” I yelled, I took a step forward, but Maggie grabbed my hand.

“Clear the room!” Sterling demanded. A guard pulled the two of us away, both of us scared for him.

We both had comms, which helped us hear the conversation better. Nate told Sterling the terms of getting the art back for destroying Blackpoole. Sterling agreed, almost too eagerly.

Blackpoole pointed the gun at him “No. Sterling, you work for me,” He swung back towards Nate, “IYS is my company!”

Nate responded immediately, “Can’t let personal feelings affect policy. You have a responsibility to shareholders. No exceptions.” He threw Blackpoole’s own words back at him. Nate took the gun out of his hands, “I have lost my only son. Do you really think you scare me? Huh?”

Maggie squeezed my hand and I squeezed back.

Blackpoole came rushing towards us, “Maggie, well, you understand.”

She let go of my hand, stepped up to him, and gave him a wicked right hook to the face. I stepped up and kicked him once while he was down.

Maggie smiled at me with a thoughtful look, “screw therapy, that felt really good.”

She walked off, and after exchanging a few words with Sterling, Nate came up, hooked arms with me and we both walked out the front door.

Later, that day the three of us were sitting in the empty exhibit room, waiting for the call.

“Are you going to stop now?” Maggie asked Nate.

“I don’t know.”

“Interesting.”

Nate hummed in a question.

“You admitting you don’t know something.”

Nate’s phone rang, and he answered it, listened then hung up. “It’s done. Blackpoole’s out.”

“Time to return the artwork?” I asked.

“I think so,” he replied.

He lifted the seat cover we were sitting on to reveal an opening down to the restoration room. We all climbed down.

When I got close to the bottom, Eliot grabbed my hand with one hand on my waist to guide me, “Careful sweetheart.”

I grabbed his hand a little tighter and felt myself blush at the nickname.

We admired the art surrounding us before leaving the room from behind the sarcophagus.

Nate and Sophie explained how they would seal and replace the floor tiles and then move the art to the loading dock to make it look like they came from the outside.

Maggie approached Nate, “You are not the man I married.”

I quickly decided I didn’t want to be in the middle of that conversation and dashed off behind the others.

After we had finished the work of moving the artwork, Parker and I helped oversee the sealing of the floor. We gathered at the back of the museum, clearly about to part ways.

I looked at each of them, “Are you guys gonna keep doing this? Am I ever gonna see you all again?”

They looked at each other for a moment before Eliot stepped up to me, “uh, we don’t know. Hope so.” He touched my elbow gently before pulling away.

I smiled at him before looking at the others, “Good enough for me… I guess this is bye.”

Hardison and Eliot nodded.

“I guess so,” Parker said.

I nodded once more before stepping into Maggie’s car and driving back to her apartment.

The next two weeks were mundane after that. I finished the LA project and flew back home to Boston. It was reaching into that third week afterwards that I got a phone call from Nate.

“Hey, I’m lookin’ for a place… Got anything in mind?”

Tags: @isoldeahlstrom

#eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer #leverage #rewrite #slow burn #multichapter #nate ford #sophie devereaux #alec hardison #parker #ford!reader #the second david job

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duckprintspress · 7 months ago

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Created Works Round-Up: June 2024

Duck Prints Press’s monthly “created works round-ups” are our opportunity to spotlight some of the amazing work that people working with us have done that ISN’T linked to their work with Duck Prints Press. We include fanworks, outside publications, and anything else that creators feel like sharing with y’all. Inclusion is voluntary and includes anything that they decided “hey, I want to put this on the created work’s round-up!”

Check out what they’ve shared with us this month…

The Making of a Work of Fanart: Relating to a Couch, Part 1 by EliotQueliot

video || the magicians (tv) || platonic or familial, m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || general audiences || no major warnings apply || 00:08:11 || complete

summary: I created a video using my phone photos and scans to show the process of making the illustration for Chapter 4, “Relating to a Couch, Part 1,” for my Queliot fic The First Duty of All Magicians Is to Save Their Friends (on Archive of Our Own, https://archiveofourown.org/works/44312533). I added a little commentary. The scene is AU for The Magicians 3×05, “A Life in the Day.”

TUMBLR – AO3 – YOUTUBE

Paintings for Mosaic Haiku, Chapter 2 by EliotQueliot

art || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || general audiences || creator chose not to use warnings || complete

summary: I’ve created watercolor paintings for all six scenes in Chapter 2. I try to add a little something to each scene that might be different than the original–something in keeping with the totality of what we know and believe about Queliot in our hearts. It might just be a chance to see some details more clearly, with more detail, color, or light; it might be slightly more interaction between the characters, such as a hand on a shoulder, which was placed there later in the same scene; or it might be a chance to glimpse a little more of their faces than is shown in any one shot (because on the show we get the full range of motion and their tone of voice to add clues, as well as what we know about them; so a moment is always more than just a single frozen image, and I’ve tried to reflect that where I can).

AO3

Mosaic Haiku, Chapter 12 by eliotqueliot

fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || general audiences || creator chose not to use warnings || 217 (it’s poetry) || complete

summary: Exploring the lives of Eliot and Quentin at the Mosaic in Fillory, through a series of haiku that delve into their thoughts, feelings, and experiences, and the impact their love continues to have on them even after the time loop is over. Please note that the AO3 chapters are slowly being updated with watercolor paintings, while the mirror Tumblr chapters have the still shots from the show that will later be painted.

TUMBLR – AO3

…Baby One More Time, Chapter 2 by EliotQueliot

fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || mature || creator chose not to use warnings || 2,001 || complete

summary: In this fic, Eliot takes his knowledge of Horomancy to the Time Witch Jane Chatwin in an effort to save Quentin. In this chapter, Eliot revisits the Mosaic; though changes are hinted, the chapter focuses on his reunion with Quentin.

TUMBLR – AO3

you want it darker? || dark king eliot, Chapter 4: Quentin by EliotQueliot

fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || explicit || creator chose not to use warnings || 10,217 || complete

summary: Quentin takes his mission as Eliot’s guardian angel very seriously. Exploring the Underworld together, Quentin and his father Ted search for ways to get Q back home to El.

other tags: Special warnings for: Grief/Mourning, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt

AO3

Silver by Zel Howland

art || black sails || no ships || mature || graphic depictions of violence || complete

TUMBLR

mend what has been broken (repeat as needed) by corduroyserpent

fiction || the scum villain’s self-saving system || platonic or familial || tianlang-jun & zhuzhi-lang || teen & up || no major warnings apply || 1,892 || complete

summary: The ritual that returns Zhuzhi-Lang to life is not without its flaws. Tianlang-Jun cares for his nephew in the aftermath.

other tags: Post-Canon, Zhuzhi-Lang lives, Hurt/Comfort, Blood & Injury, Non-Sexual Intimacy

TUMBLR – AO3 – TWITTER

Soft Whispers by Smehur

art || harry potter || m/m || draco malfoy/harry potter || general audiences || no major warnings apply || complete

TUMBLR

Phalar Aluve by Smehur

fiction || baldur’s gate 3 || m/m || astarion/tav || teen & up || no major warnings apply || 1,453 || complete

summary: Tav makes a blood sacrifice to the goddess of the dancing lights, and Astarion refuses to let it go to waste.

other tags: Developing Relationship, Fluff, Blood Drinking, Drow Tav

AO3

Meus ex Machina by edupunkn00b

fiction || sanders sides || platonic or familial, m/m || logan/remus, janus/oc orange side(lucas) || teen & up || no major warnings apply || 55,619 || complete

summary: Last century, the first Powered child was born. A frail, squalling infant with skin that burned to the touch and eyes that seemed to read your every thought, it was abandoned at the hospital.

Three years later, another was born. Then another. And another. Within a generation, most hospitals delivered more Powered children than powerless. The world turned on its head and the circuits were filled with advertisements for augmentation or that one weird trick to ensure your child was born gifted.

But veneration turned to fear and those powered children who were not cast out were raised to serve the needs of the strongest voices in their communities, whether corporate or military.

Four Powereds said ‘no more’ and broke away to find their own way to serve—and maybe even save—the world.

Until one day, a Powerless dropped down into their midst, scarred and broken, but armed with steel and hungry for vengeance. Was there a place for him in the world they sought to build?

And did he have the power to save one of their own?

other tags: Superpower AU, Human AU

TUMBLR – AO3

Spaced by edupunkn00b

fiction || sanders sides || no ships, platonic or familial || general audiences || no major warnings apply || 1,419 || complete

summary: Happy Birthday to Roman Sanders. The moment I saw the video explaining Roman’s birthday celebration would be late, I couldn’t get this out of my head, so, here we go…

Logan’s Photoshoot

Thomas’ video about June and how he ‘spaced.’

other tags: Canonverse with OC Orange Side (Lucas)

TUMBLR – AO3

the old stars are of no importance by enchantedsleeper

fiction || the strange case of starship iris || platonic or familial || general audiences || no major warnings apply || 2,493 || complete

summary: In which RJ McCabe has more emotions about listening to a drunken group singalong than they’d expected. Spans season 1 episodes 9 & 10 and the aftermath of episode 10.

other tags: Post-season 1, Found family feels, Missing scene(s)

TUMBLR – AO3

Intimate Understanding by Shadaras

fiction || quanzhi gaoshou | the king’s avatar || f/f || sun xiang/tang rou || explicit || no major warnings apply || 3,585 || complete

summary: Tang Rou gave Sun Xiang a once-over, head to toe, as their paths crossed in the Hangzhou arena’s halls. “Looking good,” Tang Rou said, grinning. “If you want to catch up after the match, shoot me a text—your hotel can’t be that far away.”

“Yeah, alright,” Sun Xiang said automatically. She watched Tang Rou stroll off, hips swaying cockily, and then shook her head. Weird. She and Tang Rou weren’t friends—what could there be to catch up about?

(The answer is: Sun Xiang’s transition, via the medium of sex.)

other tags: Trans For Trans, PWP, Clothed Sex, Oral Sex

AO3

Dandelion Seeds by Shadaras

fiction || star wars || platonic or familial, f/f || reva sevander + ahsoka tano || teen & up || no major warnings apply || 15,364 || complete

summary: A Mirialian collector has a Jedi Holocron stored safely in her vault, and rumours of its existence have reached multiple organizations. Crimson Dawn orders Reva to retrieve this holocron through any means necessary, while the Rebellion asks Ahsoka to acquire it through the most legal means possible.

When Reva and Ahsoka encounter each other at the vault door, they choose not to bring the holocron to either organization, but instead to listen to the Force and work together to learn what the holocron can teach them—and discover what they can learn from each other.

other tags: Pre-Relationship, Jedi Philosophy, Canon-Typical Violence, Jedi Holocron, Set Between Kenobi and Rebels

AO3

like clay in his hands by Shadaras

fiction || kaiju no 8 (manga) || m/m || hibino kafka/hoshina soshiro || teen & up || no major warnings apply || 1,400 || complete

summary: Soshiro gives Kafka private training in hand-to-hand combat, which brings feelings they’ve been been suppressing right up to the surface.

other tags: Fighting as Flirting, First Kiss, Dom/sub Undertones, Mild Breathplay Vibes

AO3

On Beauty by Shadaras

fiction || original work || f/f || teen & up || no major warnings apply || 1,391 || complete

summary: “You want to be beautiful,” Matty says, matter-of-factly, because she knows Vae can’t argue that point.

Vae wants to, of course, but she wants even more to deny Matty the ease of knowing her.

other tags: Butch/Femme, Clothing Porn, Established Relationship

AO3

Phase Shift by Terra P. Waters

fiction || original work || platonic or familial, f/m || teen & up || graphic depictions of violence || 99,000 || complete

summary: When self-professed science geek, Camilla Mitchell is dragged into a dimension full of hostile telepathic creatures, her loved ones only know she’s missing. Cam’s friends, her brother, Oliver, and her mother, Kathryn, work furiously to solve her disappearance and bring her home. Other members of their small Minnesota town disappear, one after the other, including Lizzy Becker’s best friend, who is ripped from her arms. Lizzy badgers loner Oliver into working with her to rescue their missing loved ones. They discover a bridge between the two worlds—a bridge that allows the hostile creatures from Cam’s newly-discovered dimension into ours. If there’s a bridge, there’s a way to rescue the people taken. Right?

LINK

Charity Pins and Stickers [Honkai: Star Rail] by Saro / Legendaerie

physical product || honkai: star rail || m/m || dr. ratio/aventurine || general audiences || no major warnings apply || complete

summary: Featuring Dr. Ratio’s letter in both EN and CN from Trailblazer Mission: Cat Among Pigeons and the Sigonia’s Knot of Cyclicality relic. All profits are split between Doctors Without Borders and The Trevor Project.

#created works round-up #duck prints press #there's so much this month!

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entriprises · 3 months ago

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glimpses at bradley & carole over the years but specifically a handful of moments around one cass elliot song that has played without end through his entire childhood.

the radio bounces off of the increasingly empty walls of the military apartment that up until now bradley has known as home. he’s four, he won’t really remember it, and for the moment the excitement of boxes and sorting is much more captivating than the confusion he has about where they’re going.

“oh don’t even even bother with none of that. he’s growing like a weed.” carole’s voice is soft into the end of the phone. in her hands she twists the cord looking out at bradley who’s climbing onto a stack of boxes. “bradley!” phone left to dangle, no longer supported by her shoulder and head, she shrieks and catches his arm before he gets any further— god forbid he falls through them, causes them to topple, or whatever else. it’s the last thing either of them need right now.

bradley’s head turns with a small yelp as he wriggles against the hold she has on him. it’s a futile effort. carole has him.

with a small toy plane in one hand he waves it through the air. “it’s like the movie!” she picks him up with both arms, holding him on his hip as he protests with mumbles of wanting to reenact some movie scenes that’s taken over his young mind. she can’t figure out for the life of her what movie this could be— it might not even be a real one.

“the boxes aren’t for climbing!” carole continues to huff out frustration and grief, heading back towards the abandoned phone. “you almost gave me a heart attack!”

“i wanted to get to the top and then throw the plane!”

“bradley-“ she yanks the phone back up by the cord, her mother on the end having already caught the gist of the moment. “ma you still there?”

what lasts of their conversation is another minute of carole trying to soothe her mother’s nerves, that she doesn’t need anymore help, that she doesn’t need her parents to make a trip out— and just when she feels as though she’s about to start yelling at her, bradley comes in as a saving, annoying grace with his jet sounds. a loud woooosh is blown right up against carole’s ear, and she abruptly puts an end to the call. that all about ends how long she’s willing to keep holding the ambitious kid too. bradley’s feet touch the ground and he takes off running, the toy plane soaring through the air by his hand.

letting out a long sigh, she leans against the wall, head thunking against it. the sound of a cass elliot song starts to flood the space. reaching behind her, she cranks the radio volume up. carole takes the moments she’s given to bring her rising temper down. humming turns to singing, and she turns the dial even more.

“that’s loud!” bradley appears, little hands cupped over his ears.

she moves off the wall to approach, “but you’ve gotta make your own kind of music!”

the car radio dial is turned far to the right under carole’s fingertips, and bradley rolls up the window with the same speed as which his mom cranks the sounds of cass eliot’s make your own kind of music, singing along already at her own top volumes. he’s eight, sitting behind the passenger seat he’s longing for permission to finally start sitting in, and starting to turn red in his ears with embarrassment.

“oh come on!” carole’s arm swings out to try and squeeze any part of bradley that she can grab, with him pushing his legs up against the car door to avoid just that.

he swears the song is only popular and kept alive by his mom— and he would even believe that she might be calling into the stations requesting it at least once a month just to keep torturing him like this.

“even if nobody else sings along,” the broom tilts in her hand, carole leaning as far right as she can without falling over. she’s a little winded as she stands back up straight on her feet, with bradley standing no more than a foot away to pull the broom turned microphone away from her.

his mom is moving just a bit slower than usual during the sunday cleaning routine and he is just past the age of eleven, itching for a chance to get to the mall and meet up with a couple of school friends. he’s impatient, and oddly productive, going from room to room and speeding through every chore carole could possibly throw at him. he’s vacuumed the living room, his room, hell even hers. he’s wiped down the bathroom counters, dusted— though bradley has little idea of what this chore actually entails and has mostly just wiped a rag across surfaces— and he’s even cleaned his room.

“can we please go now?”

“you’re gonna be nowhere...” she cups his face, singing softly, as he pulls his face away to instead place the car keys in one of her hands.

“or i could be at the mall!” he doesn’t know how to urge her more than he already has, but he thinks as long as he moves towards the door then she’ll follow, and of course carole does but not without more singing.

“you gotta… make your own…” a line of red is drawn across carole’s lips with her lipstick. “kind of music.” she’s a couple steps behind the song, with a long stare in the mirror that answers the question that’s only just begun formulating in her mind. the shade just doesn’t go. bradley doesn’t get it— not when she reaches for a tissue and wipes it all off and not when she explains to him it’s too bold for what she has picked out. he thinks the red is a fun color on his mom. carole thinks so too.

he’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, and lips pushed together in a line. his discomfort is written all over him. carole can’t miss it though all her attention is on the new subtler lipstick in hand. “just say it.”

“say what?” fourteen, a star student, and yet bradley’s clueless as to how she constantly knows before he does that he wants to speak.

“say whatever it is you want to say.” the lipstick is perfectly applied, even though she sways through it all.

his shoulders shrug up, eyes heading only in one direction— the collection of framed photos on carole’s dresser. the centermost one is of course the one it has been for years, his parents wedding day. flatly, he tells her, “i don’t have anything to say,” except that he does.

“then quit makin’ that face before you’re stuck that way-”

“is it the same guy?” his words blurt out before she’s done and the hum and dance she’d been up to fizzles out.

she pushes her feet instead into a pair of shoes, digging deep to admit to him, “yes, as a matter of fact, and his name is james.” when she looks up, and she’s met with his wide eyes, she adds a more gentle statement to her answer, “it’s just a date, brad.”

“your millionth one.” bradley’s not certain what the feeling he has is, but something makes his words a little sour.

“it is not our millionth one, it’s our…” she has to count on her fingers, totaling with a shrug and her hands landing on his arms. they move up and down trying to soothe him. “it’s our eighth which hardly means anything baby, i’m not bringing him home you can calm down.” he’s looking up at her, though carole knows it won’t be for much longer that he does that. her baby is getting tall, and he’s growing up, and it’s never more obvious than when he pulls his head away from her when she tries to fix his hair.

there’s a small groan as he asks, “you’ll be home by eleven?”

“eleven? i’m not bringing him home, but i still want to have fun!” her shoulders wiggle in a dance and he doesn’t have to say anything, but his face comes together in such a perfect disgust that it tells her exactly how grossed out he is by any sort of implication there is. she doesn’t hide her laugh. “i won’t be later than twelve. you should be asleep by ten thirty anyways.”

“mm-kay.” he agrees because it’s not something that’s up for debate— she’s always been serious about bedtimes, except when a new episode airs a little later than usual one week or when she’s roped him into some expedition for milkshakes. and though he likely won’t be asleep till the door closes behind her upon her return, bradley would rather she believe he’s giving in to this. “have fun.”

pushing off the doorway, he’s caught in a quick kiss to the cheek that he returns though with much less gusto on his part. it’s a small goodnight before he’s off to his room to finish homework, and carole continues chasing after the rhythm of the same song for at least another five minutes. her singing is always somehow behind, and from the safety of his room bradley can hear the poorly timed lyrics as his mother sings out: “sing your own special song!”

sitting under a banner that reads: happy retirement, bradley’s wide eyes are searching for carole or even pete through the clumps of family friends and complete strangers. he’s not unlike a couple of the other teenagers and kids who have been dragged to the celebration— awkwardly passing time and unsure of how to interact with each other. these aren’t cousins, childhood friends, or schoolmates. these are kids bradley’s seen maybe twice in his life before and absolutely none of them have a lick in common except that all their parents know the man retiring that the party is for.

that’s not to say he hasn’t found some way to enjoy the party— he has. it’s full of navy members, all with great advice for him as he keeps his sights set on the naval academy. though admittedly he is growing a little tired of the questions about his future. those are all the questions he’s been getting these days, along with ones about how his mom is really doing.

it’s exactly the conversation he’s trapped in as he searches for her.

“those are all quite the ways away,” aileen’s voice drips with judgment over his list of potential colleges— backups, that he promised his mom he’d apply to, “y’know from your mom.” she doesn’t need to add the last bit. he knows exactly what she’s shaming him for, though he hardly thinks its a fair thing to put on his sixteen year old shoulders.

“they were actually her idea,” he snaps back, standing from the picnic table. all the other school name he can only rattle off because his mom’s been the one to put them in front of him. he has no interest in the university of virginia or northwestern or anything else. “yeah, so.” bradley knows he’s run out of patience for aileen or the subject of his mom’s health— she’s fine.

she’s fine for now, and there’s no greater proof of that then the fact he spots carole’s head going from side to side, excitement growing in her as she yells out over the sound of chatter and an unbelievably familiar tune coming out of the stereo. “oh i love this song!”

bradley thinks it’s grown on him lately.

“oh honey!” carole’s arm swings around bradley’s neck, pulling him closer down towards her bed as she presses a kiss to his cheek. “thank you,” there’s another kiss, “thank you!” and another. he finally pulls away from her, taking a seat again in the chair that he’s more or less occupied for the last week beside her hospital bed. in her lap is the box of endless cd’s he’s brought from home and his cd player. he’s bought a couple of others— singers he knows she’s caught here and there over the radio that she wishes she could hear again. his entire yard work savings has gone towards them. norah jones, cher, linda ronstadt— they’re all there as she flicks through them. “since when do we have this?” pulling out one case, he shrugs, and doesn’t give her questions any real answers. bradley just soaks up the clear joy all over her face. it’s a nice change of pace from the exhaustion. “i think this is exactly what i’ve been missing.”

he smiles, a smug sort of look tugging at one side of his mouth as he digs through his backpack for his homework. he stacks on the small rollaway table his math textbook, notebook, and whole handful of pens— he never remembers to throw out the ones that no longer work— and settles in.

it’s only when he feels fried, about an hour into his schoolwork, that he notices his mom is singing. with so many cd boxes open, and the music soft in the headphones, he hadn’t had a clue before what she’d actually put in, but maybe he should’ve.

the hum is unmistakable.

“but you’ve gotta make your own kind of music, sing your own special song,” his pen taps at his book, eyes completely glossing over the problems, as he mumbles the words under his breath.

carole however isn’t as shy— though she keeps of course her environment in mind, singing no louder but with much more enthusiasm, “make your own kind of music, even if nobody else sings along.” by then, both of their head are bopping and his singing is just clear enough for her to notice. pushing one side of the headphones off her ear, she watches his overgrown hair sway from side to side.

bradley’s still focused on the textbook, flipping pages to see just how much he has left, and of course singing along, “so if you cannot take my hand, and if you must be goin’ i will understand,” though carole lets him finish singing alone.

#had this in the works for months #and now that its finally done i have no more excuses to put off going to the gym today #anyways if you actually read all this im sending u an edible arrangement #been thinking about carole and bradley so much lately and oliver is partially to blame btw #headcanons ⋆˙ bradley bradshaw #dyn : bradley & carole ⋆˙ make your own kind of music #yes its also their tag and it has been since before i wrote this but thats partially why i wrote it #tw hospital #tw terminal illness #if there’s typos or errors no there’s not. keep that to yourself

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taylortaylormoon · 9 months ago

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Two Horse Job

I've been sitting on this au for a while, it's unfinished, so only a handful of paragraphs.

The Two-Horse Job I’m taking liberties with Canon and Eliot’s back story. Willie Martin had two children, and Aimee was not Eliot’s high school sweetheart. (I repeatedly listened to Dasha’s Austin song on repeat while thinking about this, and it shows.)

—--------------------

Eliot was a few days shy of turning 18, while Quinn had turned 17 a few months back; they were up on the roof of Quinn’s house looking up at the stars, Quinn talking about the constellations with his head in Eliot’s lap.

Quinn had just finished telling the story of Ursa Major, his voice filled with wonder, when Eliot kissed him. It was a kiss that spoke of desperation, of a thirst that could only be quenched by Quinn. The angle was awkward: Eliot hunched over while Quinn arched his back up into the kiss, unaware of Eliot’s internal struggle. Had Quinn known what was going to happen next, he would have done more.

Eliot was gone the next day, taking only the bare essentials and getting on the first bus out of town, leaving everyone in his life behind without a second glance. Quinn kept the promise ring Eliot gave him all through his senior year, a symbol of their love and commitment, waiting for Eliot to come back. After graduation, he wore the ring on a chain around his neck as a reminder not to let anyone get that close again.

—--------------- Quinn never thought he’d return home, but Aimee called him one night on the burner phone he left her, her voice trembling with tears as she spoke about the horses and how Dad was in way over his head, and she didn’t know what to do.

So Quinn, transformed by a decade of life's trials, dropped everything and returned to Kentucky. Aimee almost didn’t recognize him at first, this stranger standing at her doorstep; his hair was longer and pulled back into a neat, low ponytail. He was wearing a suit that fit him perfectly, and he had a nasty bruise on his cheek, but Aimee would recognize her brother anywhere.

“Look at you,” Aimee says, hugging him tightly. “All grown up,”

“Ten years will do that to a person,” Quinn teases, unwilling to let go of his sister.

#leverage #eliot spencer x mr quinn #eliot/quinn #leverage quinn #Eliot Spencer #eliot x quinn

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my-beloved-lakes · 1 year ago

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@leveragetober

Leveragetober 2023

Prompt 19: job gone wrong

When a job goes wrong and falls apart, Eliot, Hardison and Parker lay low at Nana's house for a bit. (Under the cut.)

Eliot felt blood well up in his nose and begin running down his face into his mouth. More blood ran down his face from a cut on his forehead. He spat out a mouthful of blood and turned to face the last of the mark's goons. The job had fallen apart so fast that Eliot wasn't sure what had initially gone wrong.

Parker and Hardison had already made it out safely and were waiting for him in the van, but their cover was blown and Eliot still had to fight his way out. These guys were good. Much better than average. Eliot had already taken out five of them, but not before sustaining several hard blows to the head and a few cracked ribs. He was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated too. His head was pounding and his vision was starting to get blurry. The world seemed to tip and spin around him, but he couldn't pass out, not until he was absolutely sure Parker and Hardison were safe. If he passed out now they'd try to come in after him and risk their own lives. He couldn't let that happen.

The last goon rushed towards him and Eliot threw his hands up to block a punch. He caught the goon's arm and managed to twist it behind his back then shoved the goon into the wall. The goon hit the wall hard but didn’t go down. Eliot drove his knee into the goon’s stomach then used his elbow to hit him in the head. That did the trick. The goon collapsed to the floor.

Eliot stumbled to the exit, blinking in the sudden sunlight.

Parker was waiting by the open door of the van and Hardison was in the driver seat. As soon as she saw Eliot exit the building she ran to him.

“Here, lean on me.” she said, slipping his arm over her shoulders, and helped him walk the rest of the way to the van.

***

Nana sat by the window reading a book and sipping her warm tea. Occasionally she'd glance out the window to watch the snow falling silently outside. She hated the cold but she loved the way the falling snow looked under the orange glow of the street lights at night.

She looked up from her book when she heard the phone ringing. She sighed and got up to answer it. If someone's calling this late in the evening it better be important.

"Hello?"

"Nana, it's me." She heard Hardison's voice on the other end of the call.

He sounded stressed.

"Alec, it's late. you should be in bed."

She knew her son was almost never in bed before midnight, but she had to try.

"No, Nana. We were doing a job and things went south. We need a place to stay and lay low for a couple days. Can we come over?"

"Are you close?" Nana thought they were all the way in New York for a job the last time she checked, not anywhere near home.

"We're a couple hours away."

"Well, why didn't you tell me you were in the area?"

"We were going to, I promise. We were just gonna wait till we finished the job."

"Well hurry up and get here then." Nana ordered. "I'll have a couple of beds made up for you by the time you get home."

"Thank you, Nana!" Hardison said

"We love you, Nana!" She heard Parker call.

"Love y'all too." Nana chuckled to himself as she hung up the phone.

Alec had found himself a good couple of people to be with. She was glad they were there to have his back.

***

Hardison and Parker both helped Eliot out of the van and up the front steps to Nana's house. He was almost completely relying on them to keep him upright.

Hardison rang the doorbell and they waited. Only a few seconds later Nana was at the door. She gasped when she saw Eliot bleeding from several cuts on his face.

"What happened to you?" She demanded.

"Long story." Eliot muttered.

"Well, come in quick! It's freezing out." Nana stepped aside to let them through the door. "But be quiet. The kids are sleeping."

The three of them followed Nana inside to the living room. There was an air mattress in the middle of the room and blankets and pillows on the couch. Nana took Eliot's arm and helped him to the couch.

"Alec, go get the first aid kit. Parker, go get a bag of peas from the freezer." She ordered.

"Ya'know I can do this myself." Eliot said as Nana took the first aid kit from Hardison and opened it up to begin treating Eliot's wounds.

"No you can't." Nana glared at him. "Because I’m not going to let you.”

"Okay." Eliot knew there was no point in arguing.

Nana looked up at Parker and Hardison.

"Do you two really let him treat his injuries all by himself?" Nana scolded

"We try, Nana. I promise. But he almost never lets us help."

Nana turned her scolding look on Eliot.

Eliot opened his mouth, trying to come up with a defense, then closed it again, looking sheepish. Nana had that effect on people.

When she had finished helping Eliot with his injuries she took the bag of peas from Parker and pressed them against Eliot's head.

"Hold those there." She said, before heading for the kitchen. "I made you guys some dinner. Parker, why don't you come help me carry it to the living room."

Parker followed Nana obediently into the kitchen. You never said no to Nana.

“Parker, be honest with me. How often does this job put you guys in this much danger?” Nana asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the others.

“Only occasionally. But we always keep Hardison safe. We wouldn’t let anything happen to your son.” Parker promised

Nana smiled.

“Well that’s good. I'm glad to hear that you look after him, but Alec isn’t the only one I’m worried about.”

“We take care of Eliot too. I promise.” Parker added quickly. “We all look out for each other. It’s rare that Eliot gets hurt this bad. Me and Hardison make sure of that.”

Nana nodded as she filled four bowls with warm soup.

“Okay. That's all I needed to know.”

She handed two of the bowls to Parker and took the other two and they carried them back to the living room.

Eliot was laying down on the couch with the bag of peas on his forehead and Hardison was sitting on the arm of the couch by Eliot's head. They were quietly bickering about something.

“Here, sit up.” Nana said and handed one of the bowls to Eliot. Parker handed a bowl to Hardison and they all crammed onto the couch next to Eliot to eat.

"Alright, you guys get some sleep." Nana said when they had all finished eating. "The kids'll be up around nine for breakfast, but you guys are welcome to sleep later than that if you want. I’ll try to keep the kids quiet for you.”

Nana took the dishes and left the three of them to settle down for bed.

Nana tried not to worry about them as she laid down for bed.

They’re strong and smart and they know what they’re doing. She told herself, but it didn’t help much.

They were part of her family, all three of them, which meant she would never stop worrying about them. At least she knew they would always have each other’s backs when a job went wrong.

#leverage #leveragetober #leveragetober2023 #leverage fanfic #whump #Eliot Spencer #Alec Hardison #Parker #Nana Hardison

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thegeeksideofsr · 2 years ago

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Keeping Secrets

I had an idea about Eliot and a single mom of an eight year old, and I couldn't get it out of my head. I hope you enjoy!

Takes place around season two.

Content: mention of a kid slipping on a flight of stairs, bruises, and single parenting

" Look, we need this for the job. I know it's short notice, but you said you have some on hand."

"I said I had half finished ones. It would take at least six hours of painting to finish. Then the process to make the paint cure and ageing takes another four. I can't Nate." I say into my phone as I add cut carrot to the pot of soup on the stove, then turn to glance at my daughter drawing at the table. "I have priorities that are outside the team that are more important then conning someone."

" Alright. I talk to Hardison, see what he can cook up."

"Good plan. I'm sorry I couldn't help. See ya."

I pull the phone away and hangup, tucking it into my pocket. I turn back to the pot on the stove and give the contents a stir.

The call with Nate still on my mind after dinner, even though I tried to punch it out of my mind and focus on Odette

After she went to bed I texted Hardison to make sure it was all good, which it was of course, but the guilt of not telling the team was starting to get to me. Especially not telling Eliot.

He and I would flirt and dance around each other all the time, we have since I joined the team. But I still keep my life private, being one of the best forgers is dangerous. Even if it's part time.

The next morning I bring her to school, making sure to sign her field trip permission slip, then give her a long hug, before sending her inside.

I head to McRory's to check in and do some legitimate work.

I walk into Nate's apartment, finding him and Hardison there with security feeds on the screens.

" Hey guys. How's it going?"

" It's going. Managed to pull something together. Not as good as yours but it's getting the job done." Nate says with out looking at me.

"I'm sure he did a great job." I reply as I pull out my sketch book to work at Nate's dinner table.

"Nice of you to join us." Eliot's voice cracks through the comms.

"Nice hear you too, El. Sorry I couldn't help last night."

"S'alright. Hardison managed. But I'd love to hear about what kept you busy."

"Was it a date?" Parker asks.

" Kinda."

"Oh? Who with?"

"Somebody special. Now can we stop talking about my personal life?"

The rest day passes with out much excitement. The team comes and goes and soon enough we are all down in the pub. I note that school let out thirty minutes ago, but Odette has a practice for a school play for an hour and a half after school. Meaning I hang out for another half hour with the team, then head to pick her up, and grab some take out on the way home.

A light touch at my elbow makes me jump and turn to see Eliot grinning at me.

"Didn't mean to scare you, darlin'. I was just asking if you had plans later."

I let out a sigh and look down. This isn't the first time he's asked that, and I doubt it will be the last. He's asked me out before, but the thought Odette getting attached to him like I have, or getting caught up in something scares me enough to not risk it.

" I do. I'm sorry, Eliot."

"With the someone from last night?"

"Yeah. But please, Eliot, I want to keep my private life, private."

" I understand. I won't push it, but I wish you'd tell me why we do this dance, yet you always have mysterious plans."

" I know. But I can't tell you, El."

" Because you don't trust me?" His voice is low as he looks at his feet.

I step close to him, I cup his cheek and make him look at me.

"Eliot, I trust you with my life. But this is something I can't risk, this part of my life shouldn't touch the other side."

"What do you think would happen?"

"I don't know, and I am terrified to find out. But if something changes, you will be the first to know, okay?"

A small smile crosses his face, I return his smile and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. I wish I could let my self fall for him with out a care, kiss him properly, but I can't.

I pull away and step back, taking a deep breath, I grab my stuff and turn back to him.

"Good night, Eliot."

"Good night."

I turn and head out the door and once in the safety of my car I relax just a little. I check the time, almost an hour to kill till pick up, I drive over to Odette's school and park. I pull out my sketch book and wait.

*************

A rapid knock on my car window pulls my attention away from work to find my daughter's face pressed against the glass making a face, causing a laugh to bubble out of my chest.

When she pulls away I roll my window down.

"Hey kiddo! How's was today?"

"Good. Miss. Anne read to us and we got to make a recipe form the book."

"Cool! Hop in and you can tell me more on the way home."

She grins and runs to her side of the back seat, tossing her turquoise backpack next to her. She buckles in and kicks of her shoes before she begins retelling her day of school, while I drive towards home, stopping for take out on the way.

*********

"Are you okay, Mom?" She asks suddenly during dinner.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine, just thinking about work."

"Just work?"

I let out a sigh.

"I got asked on a date tonight before I left."

She lets out a shriek of excitement and starts bouncing in her seat.

"Was it Eliot? Did you say yes? Please say you said yes !!"

"Yes, it was Eliot, and no, I didn't say yes."

Her excitement fades, making my heart ache.

"But why? You like him a lot. You talk and tell stories about him all the time. You've even drawn him."

"Because it's complicated, love. We work together and it might end badly and mess up the friendship we have. And you. I don't want you to get hurt."

"But you like him!"

" Odette. It's not happening. I'm sorry."

She lets out a dramatic sigh and slumps back in her chair.

It's silent for a few minutes, then she starts telling me about something that happened during the play rehearsal.

*********

The con had been rough to say the least. A mark with trust issues, a head goon who was actually good at his job, and a forged master piece all part of Nate's plan. At least I wasn't a main option grifting or thieving.

Hardison, Parker and I were sitting in a booth while Nate and Sophie talked with the client. I was laughing at something Parker said, when out of the corner of my eye I see the flash of my phone ringing.

My heart drops to my stomach when I read her teacher's name.

"Shit." I mutter as I pick it up to answer.

"What? What's wrong?" Hardison asks as he looks at me concerned.

I ignore him as I put it to my ear.

"Hello? Anne, what's up?"

"Hi, Y/N, I'm calling because of an incident that happened during the field trip today."

"What happened? Is Odette okay?"

"We were at the top of the steps to the second floor of the museum, the kids were a few steps ahead of Rick and I, and her foot slipped on a step. And she fell about four feet to the next landing "

I try to stand, but the table of the booth stops me in my tracks.

"What?"

"I know, it's not the best news. And I feel terrible that it happened but she's ok. A small scrape on her knee and some bruises. I wish it had never happened but it could have been so much worse."

"Are you back at the school? Should I come get her?"

"We are at the school. She asked me to call you to come and get her. She seems ok for the most part, I think it just scared her."

"I'm on my way. I'll be there in twenty."

"Alright, I'll let her know. See you soon."

I pull the phone away from my ear and shove it in my pocket. I grab my stuff, slide from the booth, and head for the door.

" Yo, where you goin'?" Hardison calls after me.

" It's private. Tell the others I had to cut out early."

I head for the door of McRory's trying to dodge people, but failing as I run in to someone, nearly falling on my face.

But a familiar scent of warmth and spices floods my nose as a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist. Eliot.

"Careful, darlin'. Where you off to in such a rush."

"I'm sorry it's hard to explain. I have to go." I say to him as I detangle my self from his arms and rush out the front door.

I make it to my car and toss my bag in the passenger seat, start the engine, and pull out of my spot and head towards the school.

************

I practically run through the school to Odette's class room. I open the door to find her sitting on a beanbag chair with her teacher and a book.

She looks up when I enter, and starts to wiggle to get up. Once on her feet she runs over to me, and I drop to my knees to hug her tight.

"Hey, baby."

"Hi, momma." Her voice muffled by my shoulder.

I pull away from her and look over her arms and see a bruse forming on her upper left arm, some on her leg, and a few scrapes on her knees. I cup her face and kiss her forehead.

"Let's get you home, okay baby?"

She nods, then pulls away to grab her backpack.

I look to her teacher, who is now standing, then walk to give her a quick hug as well.

"Thank you, Anne, for taking care of her."

"You're welcome. I took her to the nurse when we got here, nothing broken, just bumps and bruises."

I offer her my hand, which she takes and holds tight, then we say goodbye to her teacher, and head to the car.

I give her a nod, then turn back to Odette who looks all too ready to go home.

Once she's settled in her seat, I get in as well, and head home.

A few minutes into the drive my phone starts to ring, I answer without looking at the contact.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I just wanted to check in. You flew out of here like a bat outta hell." Eliot grumbles with a concerned tone.

"Yeah. I'm okay. But it's personal. I might be out for a day or two."

" Hardison said it sounded serious. You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, it's just-"

My sentence is interrupted from the back seat, loud enough I know Eliot hears.

"Momma? Can we get pizza for dinner? With olives? Please?"

I glance at her in the rearview, she's barely awake, her eyes heavy and head lulling to the side.

"Sure thing, love." I say to her, receiving a sleepy smile in return.

Eliot is still silent on the other side of the line. I let to go a second longer, then start to speak.

"Look, I have to go. I see you when I see you."

I hear him try to say something, but ignore it and hang up. I know is rude to hang up on someone like that, but he already heard Odette, and it was the only way to not have to answer his questions.

************

As I pull into the driveway, I see Eliot leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed and staring a hole into the ground.

I park next to him and shut the car off. I let out a sigh as he looks at me through the window. I toss my keys in my bag, swing it to my shoulder, open my door to climb out, then shut it quietly so I don't wake Odette.

I walk around to the front of the car and stand a few feet in front of Eliot. We stand in silence, just starring at each other.

"Hi, Eliot."

"That all you got to say. You ran out of the pub, then when I called to check in you brush it off, and then to top it off I hear a kid your car call you mom."

His tone is calm and even, but I know him well enough to know he's boiling under the surface.

" It's complicated, Eliot."

" Is it? Is that what you have been keeping a secret all this time? Why?"

"Because she is my whole world, and if something happened to her because of a job I would never forgive myself."

"Is she the reason you always said no?" His voice quiet and heartbreaking.

I take a step closer to him and cup his face in my hands.

"Eliot. You have no idea how many times I have wanted to say yes to you. How many times I have dreamt about what would happen if I did. But if I take that leap and something happens, it won't be just me who would be heartbroken."

"You think I'd hurt you?"

"Not on purpose. But with the jobs we pull, and the danger we put ourselves in, there are somethings we can't control. And if something happened to you during a job, and you didn't get back up."

I stop short, the lump that had been growing in my throat making it hard to speak. His hands come up to hold my head.

"I get it. I do. But you can't live with that fear forever."

"I know, I just-"

I cut off at the sound of a car door opening, and a sleepy voice calling my name.

I pull my head from Eliot's hands and turn to look at Odette, who looking between us confused and tired at the same time.

"Hey, baby." I hold my arm out to her as I take a step back from Eliot. "Come here, I want you to meet someone."

She walks over to us, never taking her eyes of Eliot. She hugs my waist, and I wrap and arm around her shoulders.

"Odette, this is El-"

" He's Eliot. I recognize him from your drawings." She says with a cheerful tone.

I feel my face heat up as I close my eyes, a low chuckle come from Eliot, causing me to open my eyes.

He's trying to fight a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkle as he looks between Odette and I.

"Not a word."

He raises his hand in surrender, then squats down to be eye level with Odette, offering his hand to her.

"You're right, I'm Eliot. And who might you be?"

" I'm Odette." She says shaking his hand.

"It's good to meet you."

I watch the interaction with a smile on my face. It's going better then I ever could have hoped. My feelings for Eliot growing more intense as he talks to Odette.

Odette's voice pulls me from my thoughts.

"Momma?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Can Eliot stay for supper?"

She has a pleading look in her eyes. I look to Eliot who is already looking at me with a soft smile.

"Sure. You asked for pizza earlier, you still want that?"

"Yes!"

"Alright," I laugh at her excitement, " go get your backpack and we'll go inside."

She lets out a squeak, then runs to the car. I look to Eliot as he stands up.

"Are you sure you want to stay?" I ask him.

"Yeah. I'm sure. I got win her over if I want to date you don't I? You come as a package."

We share a smile, then when Odette comes back with her backpack, we head inside.

Once inside I take Odette to her room to change and to give her a once over my self. She has bruises and scratches all down her side and on her arm and leg. The scrapes all ready treated my the school nurse.

"Oh baby. I'm sorry you have so many bruises. Do they hurt?"

"A little. But not bad, just when I poke them like this."

I watch as she pokes a dark bruise, then flinches. I pull her hands away, and hold them.

"Well don't poke them if they hurt. Why don't you pick out some comfys and get changed. Then we can go make Eliot watch a Disney movie. I don't think he's ever seen one."

She lets out a shocked gasp then runs to her dresser.

I leave her room and walk back to where I left Eliot in the living room. I find him looking at the wall full of photos from the day Odette was born, to one I took at the beginning of the school year.

I watch at he stops at a picture of me holding Odette when she was maybe eight months old, with matching grins on our faces.

"That one is my favorite." I say to him.

He spins around like he got caught looking at something he shouldn't.

"She looks like you."

I nod, walking forward to stand next to him.

"She also looks like my dad." I point to to picture of him and I.

Eliot nods, then takes a breath to say something, but let's it out without a word.

"What? What were you gonna ask?"

"Where's her dad? I don't want to step in anything."

I shake my head, slip my hand into his and give it a squeeze.

"You aren't stepping in anything. He was a one night stand. I don't think he ever even told me his name."

"So you did it all on your own?"

"Pretty much. My family helped as much as they could, and I took as much legit work as I could find, but then when Nate approached and asked for a favor, I said yes. Plus the paycheck was nothing to laugh at."

His face scrunches.

"You knew Nate before you joined the team?"

"Yeah. He and my dad worked together at IYS. My dad left because he couldn't stand Blackwell. But he kept in touch with Nate over the years."

He let's out a huff of a laugh, and shakes his head.

"I ordered a pizza while you were in there."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. Made sure it had olives." He gives me a knowing smile.

"Well then you have won Odette's heart already."

"What about yours?"

"You won that a long time ago." I lean up and press kiss to his cheek.

I pull away when I hear little feet pound down the hallway, into the living room, then she bounces onto the couch.

Soon enough the pizza arrives, and we enjoy dinner in the living room. Eliot and Odette getting along like they've known each other for years, rather then an hour and half at most.

After dinner, and clean up, Eliot tries to leave, but Odette uses her professional puppy eyes get him to give in to her pleas for him to stay.

He finally caves and sits rigid of the couch while Odette diggs through our movie collection, and settling on Lilo and Stitch.

We manage to Eliot to relax, jacket and boots by the door, and sitting on the couch next to me, Odette squeezed between us, and a blanket over the three of us.

I notice Odette stops wiggling half way through the movie. I turn to check on her, and find he asleep, her face pressed into Eliot arm. He looks more relaxed then I have ever seen him in the entire time I've known him.

He turns to look at me and we share a smile.

When the movie is done, I turn it off, then get up and go to scoop Odette to bring her to bed, but Eliot raises a hand to stop me.

"I got her."

He moves slowly, so he doesn't wake her. Cradling her head, then lifting her into his arms resting her head on his shoulder.

I lead him to her room and open the blankets for him to lay her down. He lay's her among the blankets like she's made of glass. I pull the blankets up and tuck her in snugly, press a kiss to her head, then we both creep out of the room, latching the door behind us.

We walk back to the living room, sitting close enough the our legs are touching. He leans his head on the back of the couch, exposing his neck. It's a position I had never seen him in before, probably because it left his neck vulnerable, but it also made me want to kiss his neck. He looks peaceful. Head back, eyes closed, body completely relaxed.

" I can feel you starring."

I breathe out a laugh, then shift to sit on my knees, lean over him, cupping his face in my hand, turning his head gently towards me, the scruff on his cheek is rough against my palm. I lean down and kiss him. I feel him take a deep breath, then his hand comes up to hold the wrist of the hand on his cheek as he kisses me back.

It doesn't last long, but it's enough to take my breath away. When I pull away, he's already looking at me, his blue eyes fulls of confusion and hope.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time." I whisper, rubbing my thumb along his cheek.

" So have I, darlin'. Can I kiss you again?"

I nod, leaning into him again. He wraps and arm around my waist, lifting and dragging me into his lap, wrapping both arms tight around me.

"Can I take you in a date?" He asks, pulling away just enough to mumble against my lips.

I humm in response, then lean in for another kiss.

Time seems to disappear as we sit there, making out like teenagers. We eventually separate, trying to catch our breaths. It's quiet, until he asks something I hoped he'd forgotten about.

" Did you really draw me enough that she could recognize me?"

I let out a groan and drop my head to his shoulder, his laugh ringing through the room.

××××××××××××××××

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