#hardison always offering to listen
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Hardison shows love by giving people space. Parker shows love by taking space up.
#leverage#parker#eliot spencer#leverage parker#alec hardison#yes this is specifically about how they show love to eliot#but to the whole team too#just#hardison always offering to listen#asking but never demanding#just letting people know he's there for them if/when they choose to reach out#telling parker the pretzels are there whenever she wants them#asking eliot about his dad and waiting in silence for him to answer or not#and parker. always standing inside eliot's space#shoulder to shoulder in a wide open room#sitting on the arm of his chair#poking his bruises#showing him she's not afraid#draping herself over hardison while he's trying to do a briefing#look i prefer platonic ot3#but i watch any scene with any of them in it and i Get It
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I've been doing a rewatch since I read your series and I wanted to offer up an idea I had for The Gone Fishin' Job for the next season. Now you do not have to listen to my idea at all, you can even call it stupid if you want. Idk I just wanted to get it out there. If you don't write it I might try to, but I really like your portrayal of how the characters interact with each other and with the reader.
So, my idea. I've always loved the bonding that Eliot and Hardison do when they're out in the woods. Since reading your series rewrite, every single episode I watch I think about how the characters would interact differently, how they would plan differently, if there was another person on their team, especially one that they kinda have to babysit a little, or at least keep a closer eye on for safety reasons.
Going to the bank was supposed to be the easy job. In and out then go fishing. It also feels like the others have the rest of the job pretty well covered even if there were 6 people. So I'm just saying that logistically, they would likely send the reader to the bank with the boys. I think it'd go like this
Eliot says Hardison and him will take the bank and Nate is like, perfect I'll send reader with you so she'll be safe and then it adds a layer of terror when they find out about the dangerous situation they've ended up in.
I just had a vision where reader is handcuffed to Hardison and Eliot when Eliot asks about train jumping skills and reader is like ...uh...I've never done that before... And they're like, you're handcuffed to us, we'll help you.
I feel like it would also be a good time to highlight the differences between the reader and the rest of the team, but also maybe show how much she's learned being a part of the team?
Idk if you can use any of this. It's mostly just my rambling about how much I love the character you've made
Anyways
Take your time on getting the next season ready to post!!
Love you and your story!!!
💖💖💖💖💖
So I read this last night right before I went to bed, but I was thinking about it and practically swooning just reading at seeing how someone else perceives this reader character that I made. I just... (trying to feel the words that are not coming)... it feels awesome to read this and to see that the way I am trying to write and portray this character has been at least somewhat successful where someone reading it can at least relate enough to see how the future could play out for them in a similar way that I do.
I haven't started planning that chapter yet, but that is a fantastic idea and portrayal of the character(s) and the story that I have been formulating. If by some unforeseeable reason I take that episode in a different direction, I would love to see your version of that episode.
Thank you for your love and the last few asks you have sent, they have been a joy and a great boost of confidence in my efforts.
Much love back!! 💕💕💕💕
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The Gipson Girls Job: Ch. 9
Chapter Nine
They didn’t bother covering her bruises with makeup, and had dressed her in some ragged leggings and an oversized shirt. They had decided to go that evening, so there would be little time to think, to question, to get cold feet. This was their only shot.
Embyr sat at the table in the media room, printer paper laid out before her as she twiddled a number two pencil between her fingers. She had requested the items when they had returned to the media room after her and Sophie’s trip to the restroom. She thought maybe if she could doodle, she could calm herself, mentally prepare for what was to come. Eliot had returned upstairs shortly after she had settled at the table, but one glance in her direction told her quite plainly that he was still upset with her. She had refused to look away from him, refusing to back down. He finally huffed loudly and disappeared into one of the offices. He hadn’t come back.
She absently let the pencil move over the paper, no clear image in mind as the strokes came together. Before she knew it, an angel came to life on the page. Serene smile pulling at rounded lips, deep set dark eyes sparkling with pride and gratitude. A crown of neat braids crested her head, each loop decorated with star or moon charms. She shaded in her creamy mocha skin with strategically placed shadows. Tears welled in her eyes as she set the pencil down. “Lyssbie…” She murmured, trying in vain to mask her sniffle. Parker poked her head around the corner, before her body followed. “Hey, you okay?” She asked, stepping closer. Her expression clearly stated that this was an awkward position for her to be in. Embyr nodded, swiping impatiently at her tears. “Fine. Maybe a little nervous about tonight.” She admitted. Parker was quiet a moment. “Whose that?” She asked, gesturing to the portrait. Embyr managed a small smile. “My sister. Her name was Lyssbeth.” She had to force the name out as emotion threatened to choke her again. Parker reached tentatively for her shoulder. “It’ll be alright. We are a team. A family…kind of. We may be dysfunctional, and maybe don’t always see eye to eye, but we protect each other. We will protect you too.” The words were comforting, even though she looked like it was strange for her to say them. Embyr smiled. “Thank you Parker, I’ll try to make that task as easy as I can.”
***
Embyr led them to the club she had worked in, and, as luck would have it, Hardison had confirmed from the security feed that Victor Gipson would be in attendance tonight. Embyr was outfitted with a comm, a built-in tracker should they discover her earbud, and a tiny, emergency transmitter sewn into the secret compartment of her scrunchie. She was to press that button if her ass was in deep shit and Eliot would come to her rescue.
He dropped her off a block away from the club, and had to force himself not to follow after her as she vanished into the late night crowd. Hardison had his van parked around the corner in an alleyway as backup, with Nate and Sophie watching the remote traffic cams. The plan was simple. Embyr was to get into the club through the back door and get herself caught by Victor and his team. Offer him the hard drive, which had been copied and wiped, and plead for their mercy. Then Hardison was to play the role of a potential client, requesting some feminine company. With any luck, they could trace the money back to the main account, which then could be traced to the accounts of their clients all over the world. Nate had an agent with the FBI on standby for when they had the information on the accounts. She wasn’t sure how he had the ear of a Federal Agent, but she wasn't about to question it.
Eliot didn’t like it one bit. But, he couldn’t pose as the buyer because Victor had seen his face that day in the alley. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of the truck impatiently. “You doing alright, Em?” He asked, not caring that the others were listening. “I’m fine.” She replied, but he could hear the tremor in her voice. He sure as hell didn’t like this. At all.
“Going silent, I’m at the backstage door.” She warned before yanking it open. Music blasted through the opening, sending her heart hammering wildly in her chest, threatening to climb into her throat and choke her. She took a deep breath to steady herself before slipping inside. She ducked into the dressing room quickly and quietly, fear causing cold sweat to bead on her skin. “You can do this….you can do this…” She chanted silently, over and over like a mantra. As planned, she drew the drive out of its secret compartment in her scrunchie, and stepped back out into the hall. She turned, heading for the backstage area when she was met with a mountain of foul smelling muscle, cheap booze, old gym socks, and too much aftershave assaulting her senses. She only had time to let out the barest squeak before the mountain had her in his arms, his forearm clamped over her windpipe.
Eliot heard the squeak, the silence that followed falling with the weight of a sledgehammer. “I’m going after her.” He said fiercely, snapping the truck off, and moved to exit the cab. “Eliot, stay put! You want to blow this whole thing and possibly get her killed? Unless she hits that Oh, Shit button, we stay the course.” Nate’s voice was cold and commanding, and it grated on Eliot’s every nerve. Of course he didn’t want to get her killed, and Nate knew it. He shook his head, let out an exasperated growl as he slammed the door to his truck closed, and fumed.
***
“Well, well, well, what have we here?” She recognized the accent at Dario’s, the brute that had initially caught her that day in the alley. She didn’t struggle, though her every nerve begged her to fight and flee. Her hands had instinctively gripped the large man’s forearm, dropping the drive to the floor. The movement caught Dario’s attention and he stooped to retrieve it with his free hand. She was forced to bend with him to her revulsion, her back pressed against his chest. He shuddered as he straightened and she had to fight back bile. Judging by the bulge in his pocket, he was all too happy to have her there, and it made her skin crawl. He tugged his walkie talkie out of its hip holster, a crackle sounding from the receiver. “Hey boss, you should come down here. Backstage. A little bird had returned to the nest. And she brings a gift.” His voice was little more than a growl. “I’ll be right there.” Victor replied. Even his voice gave her violent chills down her spine.
Dario held her close, almost to the point of choking her, and she had to fight to keep from passing out. He had her in a vice grip, the length of his front pressed tightly to her back. She forced herself to remain still, tamping down the instinct to kick back savagely, aiming for his groin. Would serve him right anyway. But that was not what she was here for. Victor took his time coming downstairs from the offices that made up the second floor of the club, but she had to repress a wave of nausea when he did so. Dressed all in black and with his signature slicked back hairdo, he looked even more like a skull than he did in broad daylight. In fact, he looked like the grim reaper, the only things missing were a scythe and cloak. His eyes bore into hers, shadow meeting whiskey as the green bled away from her gaze.
“Well, Little Girl, what foolishness has prompted this most pleasant surprise?” He sneered. She lifted her chin with as much defiance as she could muster, saying nothing. “Boss, she brought the drive.” Dario answered for her, holding it out for Victor. The boss grabbed the drive, holding it between two bony fingers. Embyr managed to suck in a lungful of air. “It was…empty…anyway…so you killed…Roach…for nothing…” She all but snarled. Dario tightened his grip, cutting off anything else she might say. Victor shrugged dismissively. “Daniel was executed for daring to bite the hand that fed him. Whether or not he was successful in that betrayal is neither here nor there.” Victor replied. Hatred burned hot in Embyr’s chest, scalding her throat. He spoke of Roach as if he were merely that, a bug to be ground beneath his expensive, super polished Italian boot heel. “Bastard…” She hissed, her eyes flashing with fury. Victor smiled, that single gold tooth winking at her as he reached for her face. He slid his long fingers on either side of her throat, just under the line of her jaw. This way he could force her to look him in the eyes, and hold her face without fearing a savage bite.
”Oh, I will enjoy making you crawl, Little Girl.” The hunger in his voice turned her stomach sour, and if she’d had anything in it, she would have made it a point to projectile it into his face. But all she could do was stare at him with hate. Another crackle sounded from the walkie. “Victor, there is a guy here wanting to see you.” Came a voice Embyr didn’t recognize. Victor growled low in his throat. “Not now Ian, I am busy.” Another answering crackle. “He says he wants to see the merchandise.” Ian’s voice sounded impatient, almost whiney. Victor sighed heavily, annoyance clear in every line of his features. His eyes flicked to the mountain that held her. “Dario, put her in the back room, I’ll deal with her later.” He told the larger man. Dario nodded. “On it, Boss.” He replied, dragging Embyr away.
***
Hardison stood by the door that was barred by a very large bouncer, tapping his foot with impatience. He could hear the conversation through Embyr’s com and it was all he could do to keep his face bored and impassive. He could only imagine what this must be like for Eliot. He would never admit this aloud, but the instant their eyes met, he felt an intense need to keep this girl who had been through so much, safe. He had seen the determination in her face as she had stared Eliot down, but also the fear and uncertainty that flickered there the moment the other man had looked away. He had seen the pain in her eyes when she recounted her story, the way those shifting hazel orbs strayed to him when she spoke of Roach. That small gesture had made his heart ache for her. He understood immediately why Eliot had wanted to help her.
Victor Gipson was considered to be an imposing man, someone to be feared, but Hardison nearly laughed at how he towered over the mobster. Looking down the curve of his hawk-like nose into those beady black eyes seemed to take some of the menacing effect out of him. He reminded Hardison more of an oil-slicked rat than a hardened criminal capable of killing people. “I hear you are in the market for some new merchandise?” He said without preamble, annoyance clear in every line of his face, his body language not even giving the pretense of being polite. Hardison shrugged, not even the least bit sorry he had interrupted Victor’s fun. “I hear you are the man to see about some feminine delicacies.” He replied simply. Victor’s eyes narrowed. “And who exactly did you hear that from?” He all but hissed. Hardison shrugged again. “You hear things in our line of work. Through the grapevine, as it were.” Victor straightened, his lips curling back in a soundless snarl. A man Hardison recognized from his facial recognition software as Dario Goldstein came to stand behind Victor, his expression dangerous. This man, Hardison was afraid of. He was the same height as Hardison, but twice as wide, and not an ounce of it was fat. He looked like he could crush a VW in his bicep.
“I will not ask you again. Before we do any kind of business, you will tell me who is spreading these rumors about me.” Victor’s voice was cold and cutting, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why he was so desperate to know. He wanted to know how much of the information that Roach pilfered had been distributed. How much of it had been leaked. That did not bode well for Embyr. That meant he hadn’t believed that the drive was empty, and would likely have a fate far worse than death planned out for her. Hardison suppressed a shudder. He sighed, lifting one eyebrow in annoyance. “Talk about burning your bridges. Alright, it was Anderson. Clive Anderson.” He spliced the name from the list of clients on the drive, and by the look of rage on Victor’s face, it seemed that the real Mr. Anderson was in deep with the Mob. He was sure that once they pulled up their list of clients, they would be scratching their heads when there was not a ‘Clive’ among them. This would buy them a little time, hopefully enough to make the deal. Or for them to plug in the drive. To run the programs Haridson had installed on the now ‘empty’ drive. A spike to disable their communications, and a virus to copy and destroy their secrets in one fell swoop. Once they plugged that drive in, it would be over for them. They wouldn’t even know what hit them.
Victor turned to the mountain of muscle beside him, hissing something under his breath. Dario did a small half-bow, which was oddly graceful for a man of that size, and disappeared down the hall from whence he had come. Hardison had to fight to hide his smile. Let the games begin. He forced a scowl, shifting with annoyance. “Listen, if you are not up for making a little money, I can come back hmm…. never. I don’t have all day to play spy games with you.” He said with dismissal. Victor returned his scowl.
“Fine, I will show you what I have. We will deal with Mr. Anderson later.” Victor growled, clearly not ready to lose a sale. “If you will please follow me.” Victor’s voice softened into a more businessman-like tone. Hardison nodded, knowing it was only a front, but gestured for the mobster to lead the way.
Embyr was thrown into a dimly lit room that smelled of body odor and mold. As soon as Dario disappeared and the door clicked shut, she turned to her surroundings, searching for anything that she could use. She could hear the lock click home as Dario threw the outer deadbolt, and she knew that even if she had found anything in the room, it wouldn’t have helped her. She took several deep breaths as her heartbeat skyrocketed. Though she wasn’t claustrophobic, the lack of escape route had panic skittering down her spine.
Victor led Hardison through the club, down a small flight of stairs, and passed what looked like dressing rooms. There was a soft rumble of conversations around them, but the duo ignored them. They passed under an archway and into what looked like a set shop, wooden scenery stacked neatly against the far wall. “This way, Mr…..” Victor let the sentence hang, clearly waiting for Hardison to fill in the blanks. “Mr. White. Charles White.” Hardison answered. Victor nodded, eyeing Hardison as if memorizing his face. Hardison kept his face as impassive as he could. Pleasantries exchanged now, Victor stepped around the corner of the stacked sets and Hardison could hear the click of a lock. “This way, Mr. White.” The mobster repeated. Hardison turned the corner and was led into a small, dimly lit room. His eyes widened. There had to be close to three dozen women in this room, some standing, others huddled together on the floor. Each one was sporting bruises and cuts, smeared with dirt and darker things Hardison didn’t even want to begin to identify. He decided then and there that if they managed to take these assholes down, he would make sure they never recovered, that they could never strike their foul dealings again.
***
“You okay, Em?” Eliot’s voice asked. She smiled, reminded that this time, she was not alone. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just not a huge fan of being locked in a closet.” She replied. “Is there anyone in there with you?” She knew what he was really asking. If she was with the other girls or not. “No. I’m alone in here. Kinda reeks of mold and…the great unwashed.” Her voice was thin as she tried not to breathe too deeply. “Well, hang in there darlin’, Hardison is making the deal now.” Eliot assured her, even though she could hear it in her com. She wasn’t sure what it was, but the drawl in his voice soothed her. “Okay.” She replied.
The slide of the lock had her tensing again, shrinking herself towards the back of the closet, taking one more frantic sweep for a weapon. There was nothing. The door swung open and Dario eclipsed the light that streamed in through the archway. His eyes glittered in the shadows, and she didn’t need to be told why he was there. A waft of fresh air came in and she drew a greedy lungful of it. Dario’s lips cracked into a wicked smile. “Surprised to see me, Little Bird?” He asked, his eyes raking up and down her form. She set her lips in a hard line and refused to reply. The smile faded a little from his lips. “Afraid of me, Little Bird?” Came his next question, prodding her for a response. She rolled her eyes. “Hardly. But you stink and it's very hard to breathe with you this close to me.” She growled. Dario moved in one fluid motion, wrapping his beefy fingers around her throat, lifting her and all but slamming her against the back wall. She wheezed, her toes barely touching the floor now as he held her aloft. “You dare…” He growled, his foul breath choking her more than his grip. She spat in his face. Enraged, his grip tightened. “Victor has a special plan for you, foolish Bird. But he never shares the honeys with us, his loyal soldiers. Well, this time he will just have to have my sloppy seconds.” He sneered, leaning in for a kiss.
Embyr wished for unconsciousness, a meteor, death of every kind, anything but having this man’s greasy lips in hers. She could faintly hear Hardison and Victor striking their deal, exchanging account information. She had to hold on. They were in the home stretch. She just had to hold on.
Dario kissed her sloppily, saliva smearing her face as she struggled to breathe. Revulsion turned the bile in her stomach into a roiling volcano, ready to erupt even though there was nothing in it. Dario’s free hand slid down her oversized shirt, cupping the mound of one breast. She couldn’t help the disgusted gasp he no doubt would mistake for fear or even pleasure. The bile threatened to escape with that thought. In one fluid motion, he gripped the neckline of her shirt, yanking it down and tearing it as he did so. She gripped his forearm, the one that held her throat and tried in vain to twist him off her. Her vision was starting to go grey, black spots blooming in places. She shook her head, trying to get away, but all that accomplished was knocking her earbud from her ear. Dario didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were glued to her cleavage, now bared and pushed up in offering by her bra. He slid one grimy finger under the fabric, brushing her nipple and tugging the fabric down to bare it as well. Embyr closed her eyes, unable to escape, willing her mind to carry her far away from there.
Eliot’s face came to her mind’s eye. From the fierceness she had seen in the alley the day they had met, to the look he had given her when she’d worn her pale purple top, to his laugh, to the way he held her respectfully as they'd danced. Eliot…her mind chimed distantly. Her hero…Eliot. Her eyes snapped open, and while Dario was busying himself with other things, she pressed the Oh, Shit button.
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[ID: Sketch of Parker and Eliot. Parker is in the foreground leaning on a door frame, her arms wrapped around herself and her head tilted down and slightly towards the opening of the door, beyond which Eliot stands beside his punching bag, looking back at her. End ID]
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Whumptober 2022 Day 9: Tossing and Turning
After the events oft the experimental job, Parker can't sleep because she keeps thinking about her fight with Hardison, and how well Hardison fit in with the students in the con, and how unlike her they all were. So, as she does when she can't sleep or has nightmares now, she goes to Eliot.
See below for a quick stream-of-consciousness drabble related to this
“Parker,” Eliot’s voice sounded through the echo of the most recent punch, although it had been obvious from the past three blows that he knew she was there. It was no surprise. Their resident hitter was the one person Parker could rarely sneak up on. Even so, as she rounded the edge of the wall to walk into the room, she asked, "How did you know it was me?" just because she wanted to hear the reassuringly predictable answer. Eliot brushed a few strands of sweat soaked hair from his face, and with a softening of his eyes, obliged, “You have a very distinctive footfall, Parker.” Immediately, she felt more at ease, the echoes of her fight with Hardison fading at the calm and gentle voice of one of the most dangerous people she knew. "Couldn't sleep?" Eliot asked after a brief pause, stepping closer, the sweat on his face and arms catching in the dim light as he moved. She didn't reply because the question wasn't really a question. She wasn't always good at knowing when that was the case, but with Eliot and with Hardison, she tended to notice. "This about Hardison?" the hitter continued, no judgement in his voice, "Your fight?" Parker frowned deeply until Eliot tapped his ear. Of course. Comms. How could she forget that when the rest of the team were almost perpetually in her head talking away? Of course Eliot and the others had heard her and Hardison fight, just as they had all heard Hardison talking wine and games and whatever else with all his Dustmen friends and their female followers... Parker's jealousy broke suddenly. Just as they had heard Eliot's interrogations.
"There's nothing you can do, no punishment you can hand out that's worse than what I live with every day."
She looked over at him, standing and watching her with an unassuming, undemanding affection. And, what's more, with understanding. Even bathed in shadow, she couldn't make out that dark, ruthless, haunted killer in the figure before her. This was Eliot. Their Eliot. A man who would take every form of violence and injury and punishment if it's what he needed to do to keep his friends and any innocent people safe. A man she knew would not hesitate to lay down his life for her, for any of them. A man who she trusted after decades of never trusting anyone but herself. "I heard too," Parker said at last, "You. The interrogations." "We ain't talkin' 'bout me here, Parker," Eliot replied with a not unkind resolution as he immediately shut that matter down, "There was more behind that fight than the homework, right?” Eliot offered her an opening to talk if she wanted to, but left the question hanging so she could decline if not. He was good like that. So was Hardison, usually, but... “I…” Parker swallowed and walked over to the punchbag, touching the surface lightly over dried blood stains from Eliot’s knuckles, “I like Hardison.” Eliot leaned against the nearest wall, silently and patiently listening. “I know he likes me.” “A lot.” “But I…I don’t know if he likes me because I’m there. He…when he was in that college with all those people like him. Normal people... I’m not like that. I’m me. I’m…you and me, we’re not like him. We’re not like them. What if, now he's seen what it's like to be normal and with normal people, he'll want to...he won't like me anymore?” “Parker,” Eliot straightened but didn’t step closer, “You’re right. Hardison ain’t like us. But that don’t mean he’s normal, an’ it don’t mean he doesn’t feel the same way for you as you do him. We may be stuck together for jobs, but if he didn’t wanna spend time with you, he wouldn’t be inviting’ you over for games or to go out for drinks or anythin' like that. You think he’d wanna spend his spare time with you if he didn't like you a hell of a lot?” “Us," Parker corrected automatically. “We ain’t talkin’ ‘bout me Parker," Eliot automatically repeated. "Wouldn't want to spend his spare time with us if he didn't like us a lot." "You know, Parker," Eliot replied, brushing over her correction with as much subtlety as he would interrogate a suspect, "It's alright to be afraid. Bein’ close to someone’s scary.” Parker tilted her head, letting it touch the punch bag lightly and turning her view of Eliot at an angle, “Even for you?” “Even for me. The thought you might lose ‘em. Drive ‘em away or…” he paused, faltering, “Or get ‘em hurt. An’ the fact you gotta be open, let ‘em into the places in your mind you don’ like to show. All of it. It’s scary. Specially for people like us. But, it’s worth it, for all that." He stepped a little closer and rested a gloved hand on the punching bag. "Remember that con in the mine. You had to grift. How d’ya feel goin’ in?” “Icky. Confused. Lost.” “An’ when it was over?” She smiled, "Happy." His smile echoed hers, "Like it had been worth it? Worth the ickiness an' confusion an' sense of bein' lost?" She grinned at the memory and nodded, "So you're saying being close to people is like stealing someone's soul?" For the first time, Eliot's expression faltered into an adorable expression of confusion before he smirked lightly at her and shook his head, "Sure. Just maybe don' tell Hardison that."
#leverage#parker#eliot spencer#The Experimental Job#sketches based on episodes#whumptober2022#day 9 tossing and turning
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Bringing in the New Year
@flufftober
Fluff Monthly prompt: January
Rating: T
Warnings: there is a bar fight between two random npc
Fandom: Leverage
______________________________________________________________
“3…2…1! Happy New Year!” Harry yells along with the rest of the crew and French Quarter. Fireworks ring out and light up the night sky in an array of colors. A bittersweet smile blooms over Harry’s face as catches he Hardison and Parker along with many other couples kiss to bring in the New Year. He can’t help but think about how just a year ago he would have spent this moment with his wife, cherishing a kiss.
Harry is knocked out of his reverie as he stares at the firework show when Sophie nudges his side offering him a beer, one of many from tonight.
“Thanks,” Harry says as he accepts the beer. “ I thought I list you there for a moment.”
Even though the team had all gone out together for New Year’s Eve to help support one of Eliot’s friends arcade bar they ended up breaking into groups as the night went on with a plan to meet up at the car around two am. Eliot had gone to help his friend deal with customers while Parker and Hardison had gone to the back of the bar to play the arcade games that were lined up. For a while Breanna had gone over to the arcade as well but the last time Harry saw her, she was sitting at the bar watching the numerous New Year’s Eve celebrations happening around the world.
Harry was almost roped into helping out behind the bar as well but Sophie had stolen him away to join her in listening to the jazz band playing outside the bar.
“I ran into Breanna, who by the way is pretty hammered. She started talking about all the things she already wants to do this year and then she went on some side tangent about CES and Comic-Con and whatever else she could think of.”
“Sounds like it was quite the conversation.” Harry says amused.
“Oh, trust me it was. The only reason why I’m here now is because Breanna got distracted by a pretty woman who overheard her talking about some Disney cartoon and they ended up chatting away like I wasn’t even there.”
“I think the show must have been Owl House. She’s talked to me about it quite a bit recently. My daughter has talked to me about in- depth. Something tells me they might get along very well if they ever got the chance to meet.”
“How is your daughter by the way? Have you wished her a Happy New Year yet?”
“She’s doing good. Doing the best she can school wise and even managed to score an internship. Her and her mom decided to go visit New York for New Years so I called them both about an hour ago. They’re both doing well and seemed to be having fun so I tried not to keep them too long.”
“And how are you doing Harry? Are you having fun?”
“Y’know what I actually am having fun. Certainly, more than I thought I was going to have tonight. I won’t lie though it’s a little bit weird spending tonight with my family. But what about you Sophie are you having a good time?”
“As you know this isn’t usually my type of scene, but I am having an excellent time. Breanna was right great food and music along with a firework show does make for a great party.” Sophie pauses, taking a swig of her drink before continuing on. “If I’m being honest after Nate died I didn’t think the holidays would hold the same magic but, I’m glad that I’m wrong. I miss and I always will but being surrounded by family helps.”
A loud crash followed by yelling comes from inside the bar.
“Well, most of the time that is. Come on.” Sophie sighs.
Harry lets himself be pulled along by Sophie until they are inside the bar. Once they get inside the bar the yelling begins to intensify. A quick survey of the room brings in to focus the large crowd gathered in the center of the room. Harry catches a few glimpses of people in the center of drunkenly fighting. He winces and steps back when a chair is thrown across the room.
“Well, I guess that’s one wat to start the New Year.” Harry chuckles.
Harry and Sophie make their way towards the crowd, shoving their way into the inner circle. Inside the circle Harry is able to clearly see Eliot in-between the two drunken patrons who are still brawling. Eliot is trying to pull the guys off of each other, butt Harry can see that he’s struggling. Harry figures its because he doesn’t want to risk hurting either of the guys or the other nearby patrons. He’s about to go help Eliot when he sees Hardison manage his way to the center and help him by grabbing the other brawler and hauling him into a nearby seat. Even though Hardison’s guy goes pretty easily Eliot’s guy tries to wriggle his way out of Eliot’s grasp. Eliot ends up wrapping his arms around the drunken fighter’s arms and waist to keep him from flailing around.
“Alright, that’s it party’s over everyone. You ain’t got to go home but you can’t stay here.” Eliot yells as he continues to struggle with his guy.
Harry flinches when Parker pops up between him and Sophie.
“You guys might want to get out of here asap. Hardison set the sprinkler system to go off in a few minutes as a contingency if the fight continued or another fight broke out. Which means everything’s about to get wet and not the fun kind.” Parker says.
“But they were able to get it under control. It’s done.” Harry says.
“Yeah, and so is Hardison’s phone. It got knocked of his pocket and stepped on when he went to help Eliot.” Parker holds up Hardison’s phone showcasing a completely cracked screen. “As you can se its not really taking input right now. So we should really get going unless you two want to get drenched by the very expensive fire system Eliot had installed in this place.”
Harry follows Sophie and Parker out of the building when Sophies stops abruptly in front of him.
“Wait where’s Breanna?” Sophie asks.
“Oh, I made sure she got out once the fire started. She’s in the truck. I’ll be surprised if she isn’t passed out already. She cannot hold her alcohol, but she didn’t look pukey so I’ll take that as a win.”
When Harry, Sophie and Parker make it back to the truck Parker gets in the driver seat with Sophie climbing into the passenger seat and Harry going to the back. As soon as he opens the entrance to the back he’s greeted by Breanna passed out in her seat. Harry chuckles and shakes his head. He grabs a blanket and drapes it over her before slipping into a seat of his own.
For a few moments the truck is quiet save the ambient noises that leak in from outside.
Harry is beginning to drift asleep when Sophie pokes her head into the back.
“Hey, we’re going to head back to HQ without Eliot and Hardison. They said they were going to help Eliot’s friend clean up and close up for the night. We’ll probably see them in the morning.”
“Alright, thanks for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome. Get some rest. Looks like the traffic is pretty bad might take us a while to get back.”
As it turns out Sophie isn’t wrong about the traffic. By the time they get back to HQ its nearly three am.
Harry drags himself out of the truck still bleary eyed from the nap he took. He can tell the others are just as exhausted as him as they stumble over their feet and barely miss hitting the door as they walk in.
Harry says good night to Parker and Breanna as they make their way to the respective bedrooms. For a spilt second Harry considers calling a lyft to take him home, but decides against it when all of the words on his phone looks like a blurry mess and the amount of traffic still on the road. Instead he grabs a spare blanket from the closet before heading to the couch when he sees Sophie has already beat him to it. Harry laughs to himself as he plops down on the armchair kicking his legs up on an ottoman.
As Harry fell asleep he felt an appreciation for the past year and excited anticipation for the year ahead.
#fluffmonthly#leverage redemption#leverage#harry wilson#breanna casey#eliot spencer#sophie devereaux#alec hardison#parker
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so what i have to say about sophie and eliot's gorgeous conversation about control, violence, and heart i've already said in my fic an archive built on the strands of your hair turned loose, so imma just combine two little sections and offer that here:
"I know I've been busy with the theater, but I do care," Sophie says, swishing around wine Eliot keeps special in the brewpub, just for her. "So I ask: how are you, Eliot?"
Eliot's eyes trace the softness of Sophie's smile and the way she's glowing. The way he can read her and trust his analysis is as close to the truth as one can gauge without being Nate. He knew she was a powerful woman when they met (er, met for the second time). Now, she's truly divine. Grounded, in some ways, but a goddess among them. He cares for her too, in a way he could never have expected. He maybe could find a knockoff for the kind of love he's got for Hardison and Parker (a feeble thing in comparison, but something of a kind), but the familial connection he's got with Sophie and Nate… He's never had that before. He will always, always love them.
It is out of respect Eliot takes her question seriously, but he ain't armed yet with the words for the art and the scent and touch and taste of his love.
But he is learning those words, now, but maybe he's also been learning that language for years now. He learned a little bit of it up on a mountain and on a Memphis stage. In an Irish bar and on planes and boats and a carnival screaming colors at him. In Lucille. In every kitchen he's cooked in and in MC Hammer's old living room. And...
In a ring in a gym in Omaha. When "Kid Jones" had stopped training two hours before the gym closed for the night, but Eliot went back to the ring to box shadows even past his muscles first seizing. He hadn't stopped in all that time. Sweat fell from him in rivers, drenching his clothes and slowly but surely undoing all his work on his blow out from that morning. It was only when Sophie came by to remind him he has options that it hit Eliot: there ain't no way to hide his curls at the match, not with how the heat and the activity drenched him wet. He turned away from her to keep punching air to hide how the realization stole all of his out his lungs.
Now nearing two and a half years later, Eliot remembers that man fighting shadows, his air struck from him with realization that he will be known in a way he can't control. And Sophie said something about options, then. Later, he thought he was making a functional choice when he walked into that dim hotel room accepting the futility of a straightening. Now, he thinks he was choosing something else. Vulnerability.
Eliot pulls a thread of a conversation he can't recall other than as a tremble in his heart. "Listen. I got options in a way I never had, never thought I could have. Should have. And out of all I could be doing right now, I am exactly where I need and want to be. I'm happy, Sophie. Real happy."
There are still tears in Sophie's eyes even after he nudges her elsewhere with questions about how her theater kids are doing. He is sure to finish his beer and stay with her until Nate drops by to sweep her off her feet, as always.
#faorism meta#sophie devereaux#eliot spencer#leverage#the tap out job liveblog#faorism writes#its the tap out job day babyyy#long post
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Hallowe'en and Death Glares
Leverage: Eliot Spencer, Parker, Alec Hardison Word Count: 571 (T)W: Threat of violence, knives, profanity? Request: Yes, "Eliot Spencer x Reader (Halloween)" - @that-marvel-simp A/N: There wasn't a lot to go on with this, I hope this is something along the lines of what you were looking for
You always enjoyed Halloween, the smell of spices in the air, the different decorations, costumes, customs, traditions and stories that went along with it. Each culture you had known and visited had different incarnations of Halloween and its origins. The Celtic culture believed the costumes were a way to confuse evil spirits to not exact revenge for blood feuds. Mexican and Latin cultures refer to Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) as their variation of Halloween, although they celebrate their ancestors and lost loved ones. You loved the variety and the togetherness of Halloween, whether that was the group activity of pumpkin carving, decorating or helping one another with costumes. You loved it all.
Eliot on the other hand, well he was just his usual grumpy self. Parker adored Halloween, and Hardison, well he was Hardison, the kid that never grew up. He’d never know this, but you had him saved in your phone as Peter Pan, Parker was Goldilocks and Eliot was Lumberjack. You don’t know why you nicknamed them as you had in your phone, but it felt weird putting their actual names down. You almost felt like having nicknames meant if your phone was seized it couldn’t trace back to them. It was like your own personal layer of security for them.
You were reading “Sweeney Todd” (as you did every Halloween), when you heard Parker gleefully skipping down the hall and then Eliot shout some profanities at having been given a fright. You looked up from your book and shook your head, putting your bookmark in place before going to investigate what the noise was. You were most definitely not expecting to be met with the sight before you. Parker had managed to cover every square inch of the kitchen with pumpkins, skeletons, gravestones and skulls. When the hell did she manage to pull this off? Eliot was looking around his kitchen in shock, trying to figure out how to get rid of everything. You and Hardison had to stifle your laughter, knowing that if you got caught Eliot would have a hissy fit.
After you had both calmed down, you walked into the kitchen properly and Hardison took his orange soda out of the fridge (the only clear space in the kitchen besides the spot on the kitchen island that Parker had placed herself. You grabbed one of the red twizzlers Parker was offering, you and Hardison both stood on either side of Parker and watched Eliot. He ran his hand through his hair more times than you could count, and Parker offered you a knife, you looked to her, took it and then began working on one of the many pumpkins laying around. Eliot stared at you in disbelief, this then set Hardison off again, orange soda spraying everywhere… including over Eliot. It was all over. Eliot gave Hardison a death glare, and within 2 seconds Hardison made his break for the kitchen door, Eliot hot on his heels. You and Parker stared after them both, you listened for a couple of seconds then both returned your attentions to the pumpkins and began carving your way through them.
You knew that Eliot would never let you live this down, would probably give you the silent treatment for a while, but you knew that he couldn’t really keep it up for long. You guys shared an apartment after all.
(GIF Credit: @hackerhitterthief [I'm so jealous of this username])
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Imagine...being single on Valentines Day and the Leverage team set you up on a date with Eliot.
Pairing: Eliot/(Y/N)
Warnings: alcohol consumption, fluff
Word Count: 4,615
Second post this week, I’m on a roll! Been feeling Eliot very much, and once this idea came into my head, I had to write it. Happy Valentines Day, and remember you can celebrate any and all forms of love. Hope you enjoy :)
As you open the door, you are blinded with red. Literally. Bright red decorations hanging across the ceiling, roses on every blank surface, balloons taking up the space the furniture doesn’t, and varied pastries and snacks themed with pink or red.
“What the hell?” You mumble, walking slowly into the apartment.
You close the door softly and run your fingertips over the rose petals of a bouquet. Then it hits you.
Today’s the 14th. February. Valentine's Day. Oh no.
You should have stayed home instead of offering to work the pub today.
’Why did you have to be so nice? Did Nate even say thank you?’ You reprimand yourself.
“Ah, finally, you’re here.” Sophie says.
You turn and see her standing by the couch, wearing a stunning red dress and gazing at you with an eager look. You’re getting a bad feeling about whatever is going on.
“Hi?”
“I apologize for Parker’s antics. She seems to have taken advantage of Nate’s approval. This is all a bit over the top, isn’t it?”
You stare at her with what must be a confused and lost look because she just smiles and motions for you to sit on the couch. You walk over reluctantly and sit, fidgeting uncomfortably. She sits and smiles, taking your hand in hers.
“I am very proud of who you have become while being with us. We don’t say if often, but we do appreciate you. Nate also appreciates you. Though he can’t seem to get it through his thick skull how much he needs you. I trust you very much and I know you won’t let me down. You look lovely today, by the way.”
You look down after trying to process her vague statements and suddenly curse yourself for listening to stupid Nate’s ‘recommendation/mandatory orders’.
‘Wear red. Go with the theme of today.’, his text had read.
You hadn’t really known what he had meant and since you weren’t exactly one to look forward to this holiday, the ‘theme’ he had mentioned had gone completely over your head. You had picked a simple dark red dress that had your specific likings, down to the length and skin it showed that made you infinitely comfortable and confident in it. It even has pockets!
“Uh, thanks? You look good too. But I’m kind of confused with-”
“Don’t you worry, darling. You will do great. I know you will. Now all you have to do is trust the process and be true to yourself. Be confident in the way I know you are. Don’t hold back and be honest about your feelings. Fear holds us back. Don’t let it control you.”
“Okay? But Sophie-”
“Ah ah, it will be fine. All will be explained soon enough. Don’t let me down, darling.”
She kisses your cheek and suddenly stands. You try to walk but she holds a finger up as she walks to the door. She opens it and the rest of the team are standing on the other side. They walk in, staring at you.
‘What the hell is going on?’ you think.
Parker and Hardison have curious looks on their faces and Nate looks smug as ever.
“We’re all going out tonight on our own little adventures as pairs but don’t worry, you’re not missing out on anything. We’re all counting on you.”
“Sophie, what the hell-”
“Hardison, when I told you to grab a box, it wasn’t a suggestion!”
You hear Eliot yelling before he comes into view. He stops walking and glances around the room.
“You weren’t kidding about the party. Where are you going?”
He looks over at the four of them and they just smirk at him. It all happens so quick. Parker and Hardison grab him, pulling him into the apartment. He struggles to resist with the boxes in his hand. All of a sudden, the door is closed and a lock clicks.
“First drawer on the left below the TV!” Parker yells.
You hear them burst into laughter and their footsteps fade.
Eliot stares at the door a moment before turning back to you. His face matches your thoughts: ‘What the hell just happened?’
“Did you have anythin’ to do with this?” he grumbles, setting the box down.
“No! I was just supposed to come for my shift today but then Nate told me to come upstairs first. What did they tell you?”
“They just said there was a mandatory team meeting today and to bring boxes in from the van. What the hell is goin’ on?”
You walk over to the TV and open the drawer Parker had mentioned. Eliot walks over and you see an envelope with hearts all over it addressed to Eliot and you. Well, at least that’s what you think it means. It only says: To the Two Lovebirds, Love Sophie & Parker.
You frown over at Eliot and find him giving you the same look.
“I don’t have the patience for their little jokes today, man.” he grumbles, going and sitting on the couch.
You open the envelope and start reading the letter inside.
“You both must be very confused about what’s going on, but trust all will be explained soon. We have big plans for you both today and wish you well on your journey of love. Don’t let us down.”
“Are they playin’ cupid or somethin’?”
“Um, I think so. It says we have to stay the whole day in here and if we try to escape we’ll face the consequences.”
“What the hell is this? I ain’t a hostage!”
“Don’t try to break the door down. If you do, you’ll owe Hardison a new van because that’s how much that high security door cost. We are watching your every move, so don’t do anything you don’t want us to see. We can hear and see everything. Have fun and if you succeed, feelings will be revealed and a happy ending will be your reward.”
“Happy ending?”
You suddenly realize what Sophie means and your stomach drops. Why did you ever tell her about your stupid crush on Eliot? Why is she so confident he’ll like you back? She is literally going to make you be so embarrassed and get rejected in the worst way possible: being stuck in an apartment with him and working with him. You could strangle her right now.
“Um, Eliot?”
“Man, I just wanted a cold beer today and to maybe cook a nice meal.”
“Eliot?”
“I’m goin’ to kill Hardison when I see him. I’m goin’ to hit him so hard his ancestors hurt!”
“Um, Eliot?”
“What?”
“I think we just got set up on a date by the team.”
Two Weeks Earlier…
“Really?” Parker exclaims.
“I’m telling you, it’s a great idea. They both like each other, we will just push the natural cycle of love a little faster. Who are we to get in the way of love?”
“What are you two up to now?” Nate grumbles, walking into the apartment.
“Do you think Eliot likes Y/N?” Parker asks.
Nate stops walking and almost chokes on his drink.
“What?”
“Oh come on, Nate. Haven’t you seen the way he looks at her? How he treats her? She’s the only woman in his world. But they’re both stubborn and afraid to make a move. I just want to move it along.”
“Well, what if they don’t? You can’t be sure-”
“Well I know she does. But you know her. She’s never going to tell him. We have to do something, Nate.”
“Sophie, can you just take a back seat for once? Let the man build up the courage. I mean come on, we never wanted dating to be a thing in the team.”
“Yeah and look what happened.” Hardison mumbles, tinkering with his new system.
Nate rubs his face, sitting down.
“Unplanned things happen. Look, maybe they like being single, or they aren’t ready-”
“Well, why don’t we find out?” Sophie interrupts.
“What? How? Eliot is never going to tell you.”
“Well, I know Y/N has feelings for him. I also know he would never lie to her.”
“Here we go.” Nate mumbles, leaning back on the couch with an annoyed look on his face.
“We cannot let both of them be single and unacquainted with their love for each other! That is a tragedy! We have to do something! Aren’t we their friends?”
“And how would we do that?” Hardison mumbles.
“What do we get out of it, Sophie? Another couple in the team and more risk. Maybe Eliot and her losing their focus. I can’t have that. We can’t have that.”
“A bet, perhaps?” Sophie smiles.
“A bet?” Hardison asks.
“That way we all have something to gain from this.”
Nate grumbles, shaking his head.
“Parker and me will bet on their love succeeding.” Sophie says.
“I am very confident in this little scheme of yours failing.” Nate says.
“Hardison?”
“I'm going to go with Nate for this one. Eliot doesn’t seem like the type to hold back his stupid charm.”Hardison says.
“Alright. What are each of you willing to lose as punishment for losing the bet?”
“I’ve always wanted to see what you store in that little storage unit of yours.” Nate says.
“My prized possessions?”
“Yeah, and if you lose, Hardison and me get to each take five things from it.”
“Five?” Sophie exclaims.
“If you’re that confident in the power of love.” Nate says.
“Fine. Alright, I can do that. What about you, Parker?”
“I think she shouldn’t be allowed to sleep with her bunny for a month.” Hardison smirks.
“A month? Without my bunny?” Parker whines.
“Or any other stuffed animal you have.”
“Trust the process, Parker.” Sophie mumbles to her.
She looks over to her and sighs, nodding reluctantly.
Hardison smirks, continuing his tinkering.
Parker looks at his system and smirks evilly, “I want to be able to play games on your new system for a month.”
He whips around and glares at her.
“What? On the new system? This took me six months to make!”
“Well, you’re so confident, right?” Sophie says.
He looks between them, panicking.
“But, but I just-”
“Are you going to do it or not?”
He sighs, looking back at his system.
“Fine. But can there be a time limit per day? It overheats, and-”
“Fine, two hours.” Sophie says, smiling at a frustrated Hardison.
“Fine! Fine. But if you break it-”
“What about you, Nate?” Sophie and the rest of them look over at him.
“He has to stop drinking for a month!” Parker yells.
“A month?! That’s ridiculous-” Nate protests.
“Oh come on, you’re the one who doesn’t think it will work.” Hardison says.
Nate looks between them before sighing and standing.
“This is ridiculous. A month. A whole month. Alright, okay. You’ve got your deal.”
They all laugh.
“Well, I see many benefits to this little bet.” Sophie says.
“I get to see what you hide away. I need more decoration, anyway. And I think you have great taste, Sophie.” Hardison says.
“I get to play video games and annoy Hardison!” Parker yells cheerily.
“I get to see the beginnings of love.” Sophie says.
“And sober Nate.” Hardison says.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Parker asks.
Nate grumbles incoherently, opening another bottle and serving himself.
“Oh darling, I forgot to mention that to set the mood, I’m going to have to get decorations, and their favorite meals and pastries.”
“Cake!” Parker yells.
“Yes, and lots of roses, and-”
“Just use my card.” Nate grumbles before slamming his office door shut.
They all burst into laughter, their new plan ready to be set into motion.
Present Time
“I can’t believe this.” you mumble, sitting on the couch next to Eliot.
Part of you feels betrayed by Sophie, but the other part of you feels strangely anxious and excited. She has to have some sort of confidence in him having some sort of interest in you. Right?
“Alright, so now what? We just stay in here all day?” Eliot protests.
“First activity of the day, preparing a meal. Who can nurture love when they are on an empty stomach? Using the ingredients in the fridge provided, prepare a meal to enjoy together and get to know each other more.”
“They better have gotten good stuff and not left a bunch of crap to cook with.”
“Well, at least you get to cook your nice meal?” you ask nervously.
Eliot looks over at you, smiling slightly.
“I guess. And I’ll be honest, you’re the person I’d rather be locked in an apartment with instead of any of the others.”
“They can hear you, you know.”
“I know.” he grumbles.
You laugh, smiling.
“Well, we might as well make the best of our time here. Not like we’re going anywhere. I hope you didn’t have a date planned for later today.” you joke.
“I did, actually.” Eliot says, standing.
Your heart skips a beat and your smile falters. Of course he did. Why were you stupid enough to think he would confess his feelings right away?
“With my couch and a nice cold beer. Can’t get much better than that. Come on. Let’s see what crap they left us.”
He walks to the kitchen and your smile returns. You walk over and sit on a stool, reading again.
“Before starting, look in a box located to the right of the fridge. In there, you will find two necessary things needed for your cooking.”
You look up from the paper, seeing Eliot looking with disgust at two pink aprons, filled with bright red hearts. One says ‘Hers’, and the other says ‘His’, with arrows pointing at each other. You can’t help but burst out laughing, seeing Sophie’s ridiculous ideas.
“Do we really have to wear these?” he grumbles.
“Yes, unless you want to see what kind of ‘consequences’ they have in mind.”
You take one, putting it on and smiling at Eliot’s obvious level of discomfort.
“Next, begin your cooking and remember, food is best when made and served with love.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Eliot opens the fridge and soon forms an idea for a meal.
You are chopping up vegetables for a salad and your eyes wander over to him as he delicately cuts and cooks the rest of the food. His eyes are meticulous and hands precise. He obviously loves cooking and is great at it.
“Do you cook much?” he suddenly asks.
You continue cutting.
“No, not much. No one ever taught me. You’d be the first. What-”
His arms surround you and his hands go over yours.
“Hold it like this. Less chance of cuttin’ yourself and it’ll be done faster.”
“Oh, okay.” you whisper, following his directions.
His body warmth comforts your back and you hear low sounds of approval as he watches you do what he told you.
“Good girl.” he praises before going back to the other side of the counter.
Butterflies form in your stomach and you almost cut yourself.
‘Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.’ you think.
Afterwards, he leads you to the very decorated dining table and makes you sit. He sets a bottle of wine down and serves you. He goes back over and serves two plates and brings them over. You almost laugh at the sight of him wearing the apron. He sits down and you mumble a ‘thanks’ before taking a sip of water. He smiles at you and motions for you to take a bite. You do, and you can’t help but nod your head vigorously and have another bite.
“This is so good, Eliot. Oh my gosh.”
“It’s because you helped.”
“Oh, please.”
You both clink your glasses and have a sip of wine, eating in comfortable silence.
“I didn’t get to uh, tell you before. You know, with all this stuff. You look good today, Y/N.”
You blush, looking down and hiding your face with your glass but not drinking anything. After a moment, you reluctantly meet his eyes again.
“Uh, thank you. You do too, by the way.”
He smiles and your heart beats faster. After you have eaten and cleaned the kitchen, you grab the paper again. Eliot rips rather hastily at his apron and throws it on a chair. You giggle and watch as he rolls his eyes. You take your apron off too and run a hand through your hair. You sit on the couch and start reading.
“Hopefully your meal has satisfied part of your inner hunger. Now, it is time to play a game. If you tell the truth, there will be no punishment. But if you do not, a punishment awaits. Grab the box below the bar and look in the box for further instruction.”
Eliot grabs it and walks over, sitting beside you. You open it and grab the paper on the top.
“Time for a drinking game. There will be a series of questions you will be asked from a stack of cards labeled with each of your names. Ask the person the question and if they don’t wish to answer, then they have to take a shot.”
You look away from the paper and see the cards set out on the table with a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.
“Not my drink of choice, but I’m guessin’ that’s the point.”
“Before you start, there are two accessories needed to play this game. Look in the bottom of the box and once you have put them on, you can start.”
Eliot pulls out two red headbands with bright pink hearts at the top. You laugh loudly, seeing as Eliot’s face scrunches up as he stares at them in his hands.
“I ain’t puttin’ this damn thing on.”
“Oh come on, Eliot! The faster we do this, the faster we can leave! What’s the point of just sitting around and doing nothing? Let’s have some fun. Liven up your wardrobe a little bit.”
“No way in hell.”
“Eliot, do it for me? Please?”
His eyes stare at you with a curious look in them. He is reluctant, but eventually he gives in and puts it on. You try not to laugh at him again as you put yours on.
“There. Matching!” you say happily.
“You look cute, I just look stupid.” he groans.
You blush at his compliment and giggle. He rolls his eyes and hands you your stack of cards.
“Let’s just start.” he mumbles.
The questions start off pretty innocently and at one point, you’re wondering what the whole point was of this game. But suddenly, you’re reminded of Sophie’s wit.
“Have you ever had a crush on a colleague?” Eliot asks.
You blush and quickly look over at your shot glass.
“You’re gonna chicken out now?” he teases.
“No! Okay um, yes.”
“When?”
“It doesn't ask anything besides yes or no! You’re cheating!”
Eliot laughs, making you glare playfully at him.
“Okay, you go next.” he says, taking a drink of his beer.
“Okay, um. What kind of underwear do you wear?”
You burst out laughing as Eliot coughs.
“Are you gonna take a drink?” you ask shyly.
“What, you really want me to give you and the cameras a show? I ain’t lettin’ Hardison see anythin’. He’s already seein’ me wear this stupid thing on my head.”
“Yeah, I think Parker wrote that one.”
Eliot serves his shot and drinks it, grimacing slightly.
“Okay, you next.”
He takes a card and looks between it and you a few times. He clears his throat.
“Uh, what does your dream first date look like?”
You are taken aback by the question and you actually start thinking about it for the first time in a while. Dating hasn’t been a priority for you, especially lately.
“Well, I like quality time. So going out to eat, or taking a walk somewhere. Showing them something I really like, like my favorite film or talking to them about my favorite book. I think a night in would also be really nice.”
You look up and his eyes have a soft look in them. He smiles slightly and clears his throat as he looks away and sets the card down.
‘Damn it Sophie, your plan is working.’
“Okay, next. What’s the dirtiest text you’ve ever sent?”
You both burst out laughing at the change of mood. He shakes his head and genuinely looks embarrassed.
“No, absolutely not. Not goin’ there. Give me the damn bottle.”
You are still laughing as he takes the shot.
“Wow, not even a hint. Was it really that dirty?”
“Next question. What don’t you like about me?”
“Nothing.” you answer quickly, watching as his eyes snap up to yours. You curse yourself as you realize you let your thoughts get the best of you.
“Well, um. I mean, I can’t think of anything. Right now. Um, I don’t know you that well, I don’t think.”
He nods and sets the card down. Shit. You didn’t mean to offend him.
“Sorry. I think that’s the shot talking.”
“Yeah, you’ve only had one.”
You both laugh and you appreciate how it lifts the mood of the room.
“Alright. Um, would you ever kiss me?”
Eliot looks at you, a small look of discomfort on his face. His eyes soften, gazing at you.
“Are you going to drink? You can, you know.”
You laugh lightly to fill the uncomfortable silence in the room.
“Yeah, I would.”
“You would?” your heart starts beating faster.
“Yeah, sweetheart. I would.”
You stare at him, starting to smile.
“I think that’s the tequila talking for you.” you smirk.
“I don’t know, maybe.”
You both smile and you look down only to find that your cards are finished.
“Is that it?”
“Guess so. About time. Don’t know how many more shots or damn questions I could handle.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re getting pretty red, Spencer.”
He glares over at you as you bite your lip and hold back a smile. You grab the paper again.
“Congratulations on getting to know each other better. Now there is one last stage of today’s date. In a box in the bathroom, you’ll find accessories to use for your move night. You can eat the snacks throughout the apartment. Enjoy.”
Eliot stands and comes back with a box. You open it and the laughter makes its way out of you before you can stop it. Eliot frowns at you before he looks inside and he suddenly sighs and puts his face in his hands.
“Now you have found your matching onesies for tonight’s movie night. Enjoy your snacks and we hope you are comfortable. Again, we can watch you with the cameras so keep it PG-13.”
You laugh again as you pull them out. Sophie has picked one of your favorite animals and Eliot got a dinosaur onesie.
“Well, let’s go put these on, I guess.”
“They’re lucky I’ve been drinkin’ enough for this.” he grumbles before getting up and taking his onesie with him.
A few minutes later and you have both changed and picked a movie to watch together. All the snacks are on the coffee table and more pillows have been added to the couch. You don’t remember doing that.
“Do you think we’re livin’ up to their expectations?”
He looks funny holding his beer bottle with the top of the onesie over his head. He looks cute. How does he look cute? Oh gosh. You just shrug.
“Maybe. But we’re still here, so I guess.”
He nods slowly and takes another drink of his beer.
You shiver as the room gets colder and cuddle closer into the pillows. Eliot notices and watches as you struggle to find warmth.
“Damn Hardison must have turned the air conditionin’ on.” he grumbles.
You glare at the cameras, knowing what they’re up to.
“Here.” Eliot hands you a shot and you frown over at him.
“It’ll warm you up. Plus, it’s no fair I’m more buzzed than you are.”
You roll your eyes but take the shot anyway. You clear your throat and he takes it from you.
“Come ‘ere.” he grumbles, patting the spot next to him on the couch.
“You do know what they’re doing, right?”
“Are you cold or not?” he asks, looking lazily over at you.
Sighing, you make your way over and you tense as his hand surrounds your shoulders. He finishes his beer and lays back again. You start the movie and find comfort in his warmth. He pulls a blanket over you and hands you a bag of your favorite snack.
“How-”
“Movie’s startin’ sweetheart.”
You smile and appreciate his thoughtfulness. After the movie is done, several empty bags and containers take up the coffee table. You both have a short discussion about the movie before you fall into silence again.
You glance at your phone, “Damn, it’s almost midnight.”
As if on cue, you yawn and look back at Eliot.
“You know, I never thought I would actually enjoy today. But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Even if I had to wear these stupid things.”
You laugh and nod.
“Yeah, I had a great time. I hadn’t really talked one on one with you before. It was nice. Thank you for cooking. Thanks for not running out of here, too.”
You both laugh and his gaze turns serious.
“You know, I was bein’ serious about what I told you. I know Sophie isn’t one to do these things without a good reason to.”
He doesn’t have to tell you what he’s talking about for you to know.
“I know.”
His hand is on your thigh and you bite your lip.
“The question is would you?” he mumbles slowly.
You only take a second to think before you gather all the courage inside of you and respond. All the months of you keeping your secrets and feelings inside suddenly come spilling out in one word.
“Yes.”
Eliot slowly leans forward. His eyes glance down to your lips and you both close your eyes as he gently kisses you. Your hand goes to his neck as his other hand pulls you closer. You’re so close to each other, and it’s better than you could have imagined. He pulls away and smiles down at you.
“Never thought I would do it like this, but I’m still glad I did. I might not kill Hardison, after all.”
You both laugh softly before he kisses you again, even more gently. Eventually, you both pull away and end up falling asleep together in each other’s arms. In his embrace, it feels as though nothing can beat the feeling. You wonder why the hell you waited so long to make a move. You thought you would strangle Sophie after this little stunt of hers. But now all you want to do is hug her.
Unbeknownst to you, the rest of the team has been in the van for the past hour watching the developments.
“My system. My poor system! I’m sorry, baby!” Hardison cries out, leaning his head on the desk.
They all roll their eyes. Parker cheers and claps her hands, laughing.
“I promise I’ll take good care of it. What kind of games can I play?” she asks eagerly.
Sophie smirks over at Nate. He slowly looks over at her, a look of disappointment on his face.
“I hope you liked your gift.” she says.
“You bought me a bottle of whiskey.”
“I know, darling. And I hope you absolutely love it.”
Nate groans, leaning back and cursing why he ever thought this was a good idea.
Sophie had stolen love all right, and Nate had secretly never been prouder.
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Hold Me Together
Chapter 2 out of 4
Eliot gets hurt on a job and then sick. Hardison and Parker waste no time to jump in to care for him and it becomes harder and harder to say no to their care when it’s just so nice. After he has a nightmare, they’re there for him and feelings come to light.
AKA Eliot has a terrible time physically (and partly emotionally), but gets lots of cuddles and two partners in the end.
On AO3.
Ships: Thiefsome OT3
Warnings: Eliot's low self-esteem and the flu
~~~~~~~~~~
Pull Me Close
When he awoke the next morning, he was pinned down by two warm weights at his sides. He kept his breathing steady, as if he were still asleep while he assessed the situation, before last night came back to him.
He felt a heat rising to his cheeks as he cracked open one eye to look, the other having swollen shut throughout the night. It was indeed Parker and Hardison who were pinning him down and he knew he couldn't sneak out without them noticing right now. He was trapped and sooner or later he would have to face them again.
Quietly he sorted through everything, hoping to come up with a plan to make this less awkward for everyone involved.
If he moved now, they would wake up and know he was awake and he would have to talk to them, but if he pretended to still be asleep maybe they’d leave him alone, however that would be unrealistic, because he would never sleep through them waking up and it was creepy to pretend to sleep just so that you could enjoy laying in the warmth of your two coworkers that you were in love with without having to deal with the mess that made.
But, fuck, he was comfortable. More comfortable that he’d been in years. The pain had dulled a lot and he was warm and cozy under the sheets with Parker and Hardison there. Hardison snored softly and Parker’s fingers skittered over him in her sleep, almost miming a pickpocket.
It was something nice that he would never have, never deserve. And while it was selfish, he didn’t want it to end just yet.
Still, he had no say in that and all his thinking was for naught when his door slammed open and the familiar silhouette of Nate appeared, saying: “Ah, there you all are. It’s eight, we want to leave as soon as we can.”
“We’ll be there,” Parker chirped, having gone from fast asleep to awake in a moment. Nate nodded at her, before leaving.
On Eliot’s other side, Hardison was taking his time, burrowing his face into Eliot’s uninjured shoulder as he whined softly. Eliot couldn't blame him, they’d gotten to the hotel around three in the morning, so they’d had less than five hours if it was eight now. Still, the hot breaths on his neck were not good if he wanted to keep this platonic, so he poked Hardison and grouched: “Get off me, man.”
“Wha?” Hardison looked up, smiling in a way that made Eliot’s heart twist when he saw it, before he said: “Hey, it’s you. How you doin’?”
“I’m fine, slight headache and sore muscles,,” Eliot told him honestly. “I’ll be up and running in no time, now just get off me so that I can get up.”
“Your eye is bruised,” Hardison frowned, noticing the black eye that had been a light bruise a few hours ago.
“Yeah,” Parker agreed poking it and making him wince.
“Don’t touch it, Parker,” he said, leading her hand away from his face. “It’s fine, just a bruise that I forgot to cool, it’s nothing. Now stop pinning me to the mattress.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry, man,” Hardison got off and Eliot could see the other man was just wearing sweatpants nothing else and his face got a bit hot again, so he looked to the other side, only to discover that Parker was in nothing but a shirt and underwear. God either loved or hated him very much.
So, instead of focusing on them, he focused on getting to a sitting position, pleased to find he could do that on his own.
He was still in Hardison’s hoodie and his own sweatpants and he really didn’t want to change. This was comfortable and warm and it would be easy to take off at home when he was by himself again, which twisted something cold in his chest. Besides he could always wash it and give it back later, an excuse to keep it for a little while. He asked: “Hey, man, can I keep this for today?” as he rubbed the sleeves between his fingers, trying not to think how sad it was that he wanted to keep it, just craving a bit of comfort for today. He still felt groggy and generally uncomfortable.
Hardison looked over, a strange look coming over his face when he saw how the sleeves fell over Eliot’s hands, before he nodded: “Yeah, course.”
“Cool, thanks.” Now this was just getting awkward, so Eliot swung his legs over the side of the bed where Parker had been, since she had disappeared a few seconds ago.
Before he could stand up, however, Hardison was crawling after him, nearly toppling off the bed, before he said: “Wait! Stop. You can’t just do that, Eliot. Your ankle is hurt.”
“Me and my ankle will live,” Eliot informed him. It would be slightly painful to walk, but not impossible.
“Just let me help for a moment,” Hardison asked, quickly pulling on a shirt he found on the floor, before offering a hand.
Eliot rolled his eyes at the fussing, but he was also selfish enough to allow it. It was going to be over soon anyway, why not enjoy a bit of contact? Hardison wanted to help, so it wasn’t taking advantage of it, and not putting any weight on his ankle would be a smart move.
So, they made their way downstairs, with Hardison carrying Eliot’s bag and laying his hand on Eliot’s waist again, while Parker met them at the elevator, her and Hardison’s stuff in hand almost as if they’d planned this.
He tried not to think about it as Hardison led him to the table where Sophie was sitting, before telling him he was to stay there and that Hardison would get him a plate from the buffet. Once he was gone, Sophie leaned over and asked: “So, good night?”
“Was fine,” he replied, eyeing her suspiciously after she’d grinned at him and flicked her eyes towards Hardison and Parker. Had she figured out his feelings? Was he being obvious? Did she think something happened between them? Trying to play it cool, he added: “Got more than 90 minutes of sleep for a change.”
“Oh, your productivity out the door like that,” she teased, luckily dropping any suggestiveness and prying.
“I was productive in healing my body,” he shot back, hiding his relief.
Sophie frowned at his face, cocking her head. “I can see that,” she said sarcastically.
“Come on, Soph, this is not my first black eye,” Eliot said. “My stitches are clean, my ankle is wrapped, my shoulder is back. I’m as good as I can be, little swollen eye is nothing. Could be much worse. Has been in the past.”
At that point Hardison came back with a plate of stuff Eliot actually liked, which touched him more than he’d liked to admit. He put the plate down in front of Eliot, inserting himself into the conversation: “Is he trying to tell you he’s fine by telling you everything that’s wrong with him and reminding you that he’s had a shit life?”
“Yes, it’s not really working,” Sophie said, before Eliot could protest that it was useful, because he was reminding them this was his job and it was okay, that he was okay and taken care off, because all his wounds were clean and it wasn’t that bad.
Instead of saying all that, however, he shoved a fork of food into his mouth and glowered: “See if I ever tell you about my injuries again.”
“He’s grouching, that means he’s okay, right?” Parker asked, poking his cheek again.
“Stop that, Parker,” he snapped, not really mad at her, because he was weak and would do anything to make her happy.
“Jup, he’s okay,” Hardison said, smiling and Eliot wanted to smack him, but he was right and cute, so he couldn’t. “And he’s telling us about his injuries next time.”
“Or we’ll force him!” Parker added enthusiastically.
“Was it that bad?” Sophie was immediately worried again and Eliot wanted them to stop fussing, because it felt weird and twisty in his chest when they did and he hated that he didn’t know what to do with the feeling.
“No, it wasn’t, I’m-” he got cut off by Hardison, who said: “He was kinda out of it for a bit, but nothing we couldn't handle. He was a bit grumpy about the whole thing, but he’s always like that. We just need to keep his leg up and as cool as we can during the drive and he should be set. Probably sleep a bit on the way too.”
“And how am going to sleep in that crappy van?” Eliot grouched. He wanted to protest it all, but no one was listening to him, so protesting seemed a bit redundant. Besides it was hard to be mad at them about it when it seemed like they all cared about his well being and the twisty feeling in his chest was only getting twistier.
“Excuse you, Lucille is a beautiful lady and you will treat her as such,” Hardison began. “And second off, you can sleep in the backseat. There’s a storage area between the front seats that you can rest you foot on. Promise me and Parker won’t bother your little nap.”
“I’m not sleeping in the van,” not between the two of you, he added mentally. “And why don’t I get to sit up front? Don’t I have injured rights?”
“No, there’s more space on the backseat and Nate’s driving and you’re horrible when Nate drives,” Hardison explained.
“I’m not horrible when Nate drives, he just sucks at driving,” Eliot frowned.
“He turned on his blinker once and you got annoyed, because it was too early, Eliot,” Sophie pointed out.
“Yeah and what about that time you said he switched lanes wrong,” Parker said. “You were very scary. You’re not even that scary when I drive and everyone hates my driving.”
“I can’t help that Nate can’t drive,” Eliot crossed his arms.
From behind him Nate’s voice said: “I’m glad you think so highly off my driving skills. You’re in the back seat, I don’t need you to grouch at me for hours about holding the steering wheel wrong or whatever you come up with.”
Eliot had registered him coming up behind him, but he didn’t care that Nate heard. He wanted to be mad about being injured and unable to fight, but he wasn’t able to, so he was going to be mad about something else and right now that was Nate’s driving and being in the back seat. He frowned (frowned, not pouted, Hardison): “I’m still gonna yell at you from the back.”
“Sure you are,” Nate said as he started to walk off with a cup of coffee. “Our mark has officially been taken into custody and the victims have been repaid. I want to be home before dinner, so buckle up everyone.”
They grumbled and groaned about it being too earlier to pack up, but no one stayed seated. This time it was Parker steadying him while Hardison carried all their stuff to Lucille.
Getting back into Lucille was another problem and Eliot was glad Nate and Sophie had already gotten into the van, because this was embarrassing enough as it was without onlookers.
Hardison had to support him fully on the left side, where his injured ankle was, but not his ex-dislocated shoulder, while Parker physically put his uninjured foot into Lucille. Then Hardison hoisted them into the van with Parker making sure they wouldn't fall back, until they were in and they could shuffle forwards and get seated.
Eliot was determined not to be visibly injured, so he crossed his arms and planted his feet on the ground, before staring ahead, vowing to keep his one, not swollen eye firmly open for the entire ride.
His plan was ruined by Parker the moment she settled on his other side, because she leaned forwards and put his leg on the little platform and right as he was about to protest, she put a bag of ice cubes on his foot and that actually felt really nice, so he cut himself off with a soft, grumpy thanks. She smiled: “Of course,” before handing him another ice cube bag for his eye.
Still, he could be awake and grumpy about everything, even when they were treating him like he was terribly injured, which he could understand after the fucking spectacle he made of himself last night. So he just told Nate that he shouldn’t pull up so fast, which earned him a glare from the man through the rear view mirror that he ignored.
Parker was on his right fiddling with one of her locks while she gazed out the window. Hardison was on his left and tapping away on a screen that was moving too fast for Eliot to follow. It was peaceful and they talked with each other softly, though Eliot didn’t have the energy to add his own commentary.
He felt bad about being in the middle of them again when they had already missed each other last night because of him. They hadn’t even seen each other during the job either with Hardison on tech support and Parker running between stealing and grifting.
He didn’t know how to bring it up that he wouldn’t mind switching with Hardison so that they could be next to each other and he could lean against the window. It wasn’t that he was tired and wanted to lean against something, he just wanted to have a clear line of sight, that was all.
The ice was slowly melting, until he had two bags of water and they were nearing their first stop, where Nate pulled over. Sophie would be driving the next stretch, because car-safety and all that jazz.
“Want me to get you anything?” Hardison asked when it became clear that Eliot wasn’t leaving the van.
“Nah, I’m good,” he said. “Maybe switch places with me? I can’t lean against anything in the middle.” He didn’t add: ‘and I’m sure you missed Parker,’ partially because he knew it would have come out sounding bitter and that was something he did not need to deal with, both mentally and in real life.
Hardison raised a brow. “And where are you going to rest you foot if you’re on the left? And I know you ain’t going to be on the right, I heard your shoulder that shit was just wrong.”
“I’ll be fine without resting my foot anywhere. Dammit, Hardison,” Eliot frowned, not sure why the hacker was even fighting him on this.
“You can lean against me, promise I won’t draw on your face,” Hardison said, before walking away so that Eliot couldn't reply. Parker skipped up next to him and asked about the drawing on the face with a bit too much glee.
The words caught up with Eliot and he could feel his cheeks getting warmer, which he pushed down immediately. Hardison had offered it so casually, like it wasn’t weird at all that he was turning down the offer of sitting next to his girlfriend so that Eliot could lean against his shoulder. But maybe Eliot was seeing things where there was nothing, he was injured (minor injuries but that didn’t seem to stop Hardison from worrying), so it could just be a normal offer. It wasn’t as if Hardison hadn’t fallen asleep on his shoulder from time to time.
It wouldn't be weird, he didn’t need to make it weird. Besides, he didn’t needto take him up on the offer and lean on Hardison. He could just not sleep and keep on looking forwards. Yeah, that was a plan.
Soon the others came back, piling into the van once more, with Parker shoving two cold things in his hands as she proudly proclaimed: “They sold ice packs!”
“Oh, thank you, Parker,” he smiled at her, starting to lean forward with a grunt only to find one of the ice packs stolen and being placed on his foot again. He nodded his thanks to Parker, before settling down against the backseat and putting the other ice pack against his eye.
The swelling had gone down already with the ice cubes from the hotel, but the fresh coolness of the ice pack was still welcome.
On his other side, Hardison said: “I managed to convince her not to take the markers, so you’re welcome.”
“And who gave her the idea in the first place,” Eliot shot back, getting an idea. “I’m not risking it by sleeping. You never know if she doesn’t have them anyway.”
“Come on, man, you need the rest,” Hardison tried to argue.
“I already had more sleep than normal, Hardison. I’m fine,” Eliot replied. He did feel tired, but he wasn’t admitting that.
“But I promise I don’t have the markers,” Parker inserted herself into the conversation as well, showing that she only had some hundred dollar bills in her pockets along with some earrings that weren’t hers and a small stuffed mushroom.
“You literally just asked me if we could switch places so that you could lean against something,” it was clear that Hardison wasn’t believing him.
“I thought that you would want to sit next to Parker, sorry for trying to be nice,” he huffed out the truth, hoping it would get them off his back. They stayed silent, so he called out to the front: “Soph, can we please listen to something else, I am so not in the mood for opera.”
Sophie did change the station to something more generic with less high notes that made his head hurt, even if she grumbled: “Someone’s in a mood today.”
He snapped back: “You try getting beat up on a regular basis, see if you’re still sunshine and rainbows after.”
“No, for real, man, you’re never this grouchy,” Hardison frowned, trying to subtly check him over and failing on the subtle part. “Is something wrong? What’s going on?”
“Is there an alien in your stomach controlling you?” Parker asked with wide eyes.
“Dammit, Hardison, I told you not to watch those stupid alien movies with her,” Eliot focused on something other than the uncomfortable questions Hardison had asked.
Because yeah, he was more grouchy than normal and something was wrong, but the something that was wrong was the fact that he had discovered that he was in love with his two best friends and now he was stuck on an eight hour car ride between them after they had seen him vulnerable and he feared that they would catch on or that he was coming between them and it was all the confusing twisty things he had tried to avoid and didn’t want to talk about.
Grouchy didn’t entirely cover that.
“Uhm, excuse you, alien movies are a staple of American culture that everyone should get to experience, so don’t even start there, also you didn’t answer my question,” Hardison told him, leveling him with a stare.
Eliot now had a choice. And it was easily made. “I have a huge headache, Hardison,” he sighed a partially lie, before going on with a whole lie, “I have a headache, I barely slept on the last con and you’re all very loud. I don’t need anyone’s fussing, I just wanted to sit quietly and everyone is making it really hard.”
“Thank you for being honest with us,” Parker said and it was obviously something she’d learned from Sophie and Eliot felt guilty about pretending to be open about his injuries a bit, just so they would get off his back.
“Yeah, man, we’ll be quiet,” Hardison added.
Hardison turned back to his screen and Parker to her locks and Eliot tried not to miss their soft chatter as he closed his eyes and tried to find his zen place.
After how much he’d insisted he wasn’t going to sleep, he was slightly embarrassed that the next moment he was waking up, having been asleep for some time. He could tell Sophie was behind the wheel, which meant he either hadn’t been asleep for long or they were on the last two hour stretch home.
He now registered that the ice pack on his foot had was cool again and the one on his cheek was held in place by someone – Parker his mind supplied – but he was leaning against something, someone, else with his other cheek. He was kind of groggy and he struggled to wake up, blinking bleary until he heard Hardison’s voice near his left ear: “Hey there, finally joining us in the land of the living again, huh?”
“Wha?” he was still feeling disorientated, the headache was much worse than when he’d drifted off and his muscles were sore, he was also cold and his throat ached slightly in the background. He levered himself into a sitting position and tried to take a deep breath to wake up, only to find his nose stuffy.
No.
Fuck no.
It all clicked into place after a second. The confusion, the chills, the headache, sore muscles and throat and then also a stuffy nose. He was sick. He had managed to get himself sick.
“You okay?” Hardison asked, obviously concerned and Eliot felt guilty about having been asleep on his shoulder after everything, as well as guilt because that couldn't have been comfortable and Eliot just cozied up to him again, even when he knew Hardison had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who had been holding his ice pack for him.
He owed those two so much in just the last 24 hours alone, not to mention the past few years. That was something he couldn't pay back and he had treated them like shit and had caught weird feelings for them and gotten in between them.
Tears came to his eyes and he blinked them away as a hole started to eat away at his heart and he couldn't fully push that down, even if he tried.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that his too emotional state of being was due to his lower defenses since he was sick. He felt too exhausted to fight it, but did it after a moment anyway, replacing it with enough grumpiness to be believable.
“‘m fine,” he mumbled, trying not to make his sore throat obvious as he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake up. They didn’t need to know he was sick, they would only worry. He would disappear when they got home and come back when he felt better again. “Are we near the brewpub yet?”
“Yes, you slept for so long, it was a bit boring, but your nose whistled and that was funny,” Parker informed him. “Hardison was trapped under you the entire ride.”
Now at that he did blush and avoided Hardison’s eyes as he softly apologized.
“No worries, man, you obviously needed the sleep,” Hardison assured him. “And I wasn’t trapped under you the entire ride, we managed to lever you over to Parker’s shoulder when Nate took Sophie’s place again. We only switched you back last stop.”
“I didn’t wake up?” Eliot asked, frowning, he must be sicker than he thought.
“Slept like a baby,” Hardison said. “Are you sure you’re okay, man?”
“‘m fine, I already said that,” Eliot grouched, trying not to let show how much he wanted to not be okay and wrapped up in a hug or a blanket or something. He was the tough one, he couldn't be weak, because his job was being strong. Just hold on, Eliot, he thought, then you can crash on your bed.
“Your voice sounds off,” Parker observed, “more gravelly than normal. And you didn’t wake up in a second and your eyes are still drooping.” She cocked her head, before her eyes got a knowing gleam in them. He was made. “Do you feel hungry? Or are you nauseous? Are you in any discomfort? Cold, perhaps? How’s your headache?”
“Hey, mama, why don’t you give the man a rest,” Hardison came to his defense. “You’re kinda overwhelming him with questions right now.”
“When has Eliot ever been overwhelmed?” Parker shot back and Eliot cursed her observation skills, there went his plan to hide until he was better.
“What are you getting at, baby?” Hardison frowned.
“She figured out I’m sick,” Eliot snapped, before Parker could tell him. “And I’m right here. No need to talk about me like I’m not.”
“You’re sick?” Nate asked. “How long has that been going on?”
“I only noticed it when I woke up,” Eliot replied, remembering one of Nate’s rules. “I would have told you if I was sick on the con. I wouldn’t have put you all in danger over me being sick, you know that.”
“Is his wound infected?” Sophie asked and before Eliot could tell them that no it was not, because he would have noticed that, two small calloused thief hands crawled under his shirt, feeling at the bandage, before lifting his shirt to inspect it. Parker reported: “The wound is fine.”
“Do we have supplies for soup at home?” Hardison asked.
“I think we have a blanket for him somewhere under the chairs,” Nate said.
“Oehh, we can build a pillow fort!” Parker exclaimed.
“I’m right here,” Eliot grouched, he didn’t need their care. Craved it? Yes. But he didn’t need it and he wasn’t going to let them. He was supposed to be invincible and while they were long past believing that, he couldn't let them see how pathetic he was. “And I don’t need a damn blanket or soup, or a pillow fort. I’m just a bit under the weather and I am fine on my own. I’ll take a few days and then I’m good to go, don’t be so dramatic.”
Hardison looked him over, then looked at Parker and raised his brow in an ‘are you hearing this guy’ manner, before he said: “I can be as dramatic as I want to be.”
“What? No,” Eliot said. “I’m the sick one and if I say I’m fine and you gotta stop being dramatic about it, then you stop being dramatic about it. Simple.”
“Sure, simple,” Hardison said, pulling out the blanket and teamworking with Parker to get it around his shoulders. “Except I worried my ass off last night because you could hardly walk, or even stand on your own and you dazed out constantly while trying to tell us you were fine. So when it comes to you telling me you’re fine, I’m not really trusting you, alright.”
The blanket around his shoulders was warm and he wanted to burrow into it, but he wasn’t giving in so easily.
“Dammit, Hardison, I said I was fine. I don’t need any of your fussing near me, alright. I’m not incompetent. It’s not even that bad,” he yelled, snapping because he had no energy to do anything but snapping or giving in at this point. And giving in wasn’t an option.
“I know you’re not incompetent, Eliot, we all do,” Hardison said, Parker agreeing: “Of course we don’t think that, you’re skilled.”
He crossed his arms and looked away. He knew they didn’t think he was incompetent, they wouldn't trust him with their lives otherwise, but that could change at any moment. He’d seen it happen before, so he wasn’t risking it.
“And I’m also hearing a lot about you don’t needing anything, which I also believe,” Hardison went on in a tone that had Eliot’s guard up. “But I ain’t hearing nothing about wanting. And we care about you, man, how many times have I got to tell you that? We want to take care of you, even if we know you don’t need it.”
“I don’t need anyone playing nurse,” he protested again. It was weak and he knew it, but he had to protest, he had to warn them without explicitly warning them, because that would also be a weakness and- His head hurt and the thoughts in it were swirling and confusing him.
“That kinda looks like a lie to me,” Hardison said, looking him over with concern in his eyes. “And you’re again talking about needing not wanting.”
“Are you okay, Eliot?” Parker was also not happy with his face it seemed, but he knew he must look like a confused, sweating, hurt mess, with a swollen eye and a shivering frame. He had even pitifully burrowed into the blanket without even realizing.
“I’m- I’m- I don’t know,” he finally admitted. He was just tired and upset about feelings he couldn't place. He wanted to crash someplace warm and not have to think for a moment. “I don’t know,” he said again, voice unsteady. “It’s- I- I can never want something. ‘s a weakness.”
If he was paying attention, he could have pinpointed when Hardison’s heart broke by the look in his eye, but instead he was distracted by Parker pulling him into a hug as she said: “I get it, but Hardison taught me how to feel stuff and you taught me how to like stuff, we can teach you how to be taken care of.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Sophie’s voice was slightly fake in her enthusiasm as it came from the front seat, cutting off any half-formed protests from Eliot.
“Me too,” Hardison quickly agreed, throwing an arm over Eliot’s shoulder and pulling him close, until he was leaning against his chest, Parker on his lap like a pretzel. “We’ll teach you how to be taken care off and then you can work on your verbal explanations by teaching me how to make soup for you from the comforts of a bed.”
“Wha- I don’t-” Eliot’s mind was too confused to properly fight the argument, he somewhere knew needed to be fought, while also not wanting to fight it.
“It’s been a lot of don’ts from you, just accept it, alright?” Hardison said, pulling him closer and he wanted to protest again. Really, he did. But he was also very comfortable and warm and he was tired and they’d be home soon. He could fight them again when they were home.
In the end, it turned out that fighting them when they got home was a terrible plan. The sleeping had left him groggy and Nate and Sophie had already disappeared, leaving him with just Hardison’s comforting chattering and Parker’s puppy eyes. He couldn't drive home in this state and both had refused to drive him and he already had a room above the brewpub, so he could go home tomorrow if he felt like it and-
And he gave in, the great Eliot Spencer, defeated by cute little eyes and too many arguments about a comfortable bed nearby. What had his life come to?
His life had come to waking up in a soft bed, that Hardison had managed to get exactly right before he’d even arrived in Portland all those months ago, with a sore throat and muscles, while being nicely warm on his right side where a bony elbow was wedged into his side, while on the other side there was a consistent, comfortingly familiar tapping noise.
He blinked blearily and groaned when a wave of nausea rolled over him, before a coughing fit overtook him. Parker’s warmth disappeared, but Hardison’s voice came: “Hey, hey, you’re alright, you’re alright.”
A glass of water appeared and he took it gratefully, sipping it slowly and letting it sooth his throat and wash away the itch at the back of it.
“You’ve been clonked out for the past few hours, about sixteen. How you feeling?” And Eliot was grateful that Hardison knew him well enough to first tell him how much time he’d lost before asking him about his state.
“I’m fine,” he replied, but his voice was barely a whisper.
“That response is really ingrained, isn’t it, huh?” Hardison said, but there was no judgment in his voice.
“Oehh, is that one of the things we’re teaching him to stop with? Like how I had to look further than the alarms in a museum?” Parker piped up.
“Yeah, exactly, mama,” Hardison’s smile was obvious when he talked. “He can start by telling us how he really feels.”
And Eliot was honestly too tired to follow the conversation, so he gave up on trying and just answered honestly: “Like I’ve been hit by a motorcycle.”
“Not a truck?” Hardison asked.
“No, motorcycle hit is very distinctive.”
“You and your distinctive,” the mutter was more for Hardison himself than him, so he ignored it. “Parker, baby, if I go get the soup, can you make sure he doesn’t drop off again. He needs to eat if he wants to recover.”
“Of course, I’ll keep watch!” Parker saluted and Hardison left the room.
Eliot let his eyes close, content to just lie there, but Parker obviously thought he was falling asleep again, because she poked his right cheek where the bruise was. It was less tender than last time, but still sore, so he hissed: “The fuck, Parker.”
“I need to keep you awake,” she said with wide eyes and he wanted to roll his, but that would make her sad, so he just sighed and leaned back into his pillow, this time with his eyes open.
“What happened?” he asked, trying to put together the little bit of information his brain was willing to give him.
“Well, you were out beating people up in the rain,” she launched into an explanation, “and Hardison says you don’t actually get sick from the rain, but you did get sick and me and Hardison are taking care of you, but you were really grumpy on the drive back, but then you fell asleep. And your nose whistled.”
He let her voice wash over him as she went on.
“But then you woke up and you were really sad about something, but also grouchy and then Hardison did his thing, where he gets people and has like the voice that tells him what you need to hear. He and Sophie both do it, it’s fascinating, he’s teaching me how to do it too. And you gave in, because you wanted to, but you didn’t want to tell us, so we had to crack your emotion safe with our words and now we’re going to teach you how to be taken care of,” she finished.
Wait what? He had put most of the pieces together and part of him had only partially questioned why they were in his bed, but he hadn’t remembered this. He thought they were just here to see if he woke up again and now that he had, he could throw them out of his room (going to his apartment seemed too hard at this point), but not this.
Before the freak out could fully set in, Hardison entered with a bowl of steaming soup. “Here you go, chicken noodle soup, the best for when you’re sick and homemade,” Hardison grinned. “I really want to say by us, but we set a pan on fire and then asked the kitchen staff to make it.”
He wordlessly accepted the soup, still trying to figure out what was going on exactly, how he felt about it and how he would get out of it.
Yeah, okay, what the fuck had his life come to?
~~
A/N:
I really like the idea of Eliot being fine with the insane driving off Sophie and Parker, because it’s at least functional in a getaway situation, but he can’t stand Nate’s just below average driving (personal headcanon) in an everyday situation. It tickles me.
Also I know that Lucille doesn’t have a backseat bench, but the vibes were too good so just go with it
#RR writing#tw: self esteem issues#tw: flu#tw: sickfic#leverage#leverage tv#leverage ot3#hitter hacker thief#thiefsome#eliot x hardison x parker#eliot spencer#eliot spencer angst#alec hardison#parker#leverage parker#nate ford#sophie devereaux#Hold Me Together#Hold Me Together Part 2
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On Sophie and Harry
Ok I'm halfway through the finale of S1, and I have omg so many thoughts. I am eating this character development UP and licking my plate.
I'm loving Sophie being in charge. Because of Harry and Breanna, I find myself taking the perspective of seeing her as only a boss, never as an older sister or surrogate mother figure. And the difference is slight but very significant.
First, there's Breanna. Sophie's not going to adopt her the way she did Parker and Hardison. She's going to be empathetic, a good boss, firm and fair. But her parenting days are over. She's in a different role now, and I am loving her in it. We see a lot less of the dramatics from the old days (because she's grown and she's grieving), but the spark is still there. She's finding her joy again, and I love that.
I'm also loving seeing her settle into her role as being in charge. She can talk to Harry as an equal on a different path. He is an expert, just not in her world. When she pulls him away for the "what the hell. explain." conversation in the finale...ooh, chills. She's SO ATTRACTIVE but also very much has the team's safety in mind. In a lot of ways, she's taken responsibility for Harry. She does still have that desire to save people, but also she wants to help them get to their full potential. Combination of team influences on her here + how she's always been the director of her own play, in the warmest and most well-meaning way.
Really the whole genteel way she handles Harry. It's very professional, a spark of the dramatic. I'm LOVING it. I'm loving how their paths parallel each other. Laying some lovely groundwork here for whatever this is going to be.
After Ethan, Harry's now referring to his ex-wife as his wife. He has some stuff to work out, and in typical Sophie fashion, she lets things work out where necessary, just knows when people need the space and when she needs to step in and offer a listening ear (or a gentle jerk back toward reality).
I'm thinking about how Sophie does find the situation with Harry a little comfortable. He's her people project. He wants to learn how to be a part of the crew, and he's looking to right his wrongs and figure out where he is. He's lost. A lot of the way they interact with each other has a rhythm that is comforting to her. And it is very comfortable to her, for now. He does seem to have won her benefit of the doubt.
I'm also thinking about how Harry perceives Sophie - first as a very smart and capable grifter who's gone through this loss, his grifting mentor but also someone who understands the dimensions of his life experience. She must be fascinating the way most people find Sophie. But he also sees that she's been able to find a family that works on terms that work for everyone, without lying, without messing everything up. I think he wants a part of that but also wants to know his place. I think he thinks he'll learn something. And I think he's a little captivated by Sophie, not because of a romanticized version of her life but just because of how damn capable she is. And how she sees something in him that he wishes he saw and is not even sure is there at all.
He finds her a comfortable presence too. He tells her his thought process (quite easily), and she just gets it. He has a kid. She has adopted kids. He's taking on this role with Breanna (and sometimes Parker) that reminds Sophie of her early days with the team. There's this texture to that relationship that I really want to see more. They're unfamiliar enough to where they can give each other space, but there are echoes of experience there that just make them a good fit.
(Ok here's where the analysis ends and my very excited projecting happens)
And I'm not saying that it's going to end up being they both find themselves again and then support each other through Big Life Things and then kind of become longer term partners over a slow and BEAUTIFUL story full of late night conversations over drinks and linked-arm walks talking in broad terms about the future, but like...I wouldn't be mad if that happened at all.
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Charlie tells Parker, "Don't waste time."
And then she looks over at Hardison and they share these smiles. It - it really gets to me, because one thing that Parker/Hardison is consistently praised for is their slow, steady romance. Her taking her time and him knowing she needs that and waiting patiently.
In S1, Hardison expresses interest in Parker several times. Then, while the crew is separated between S1-S2, he looks for her. She never lets him find her, but he tells her he was looking. And she tells him that people are like locks; you have to be careful and fiddly, and eventually they might open up for you. After that, he stops being so openly flirty but still clearly has feelings for her.
In S3, Parker gets jealous and realizes that she has feelings for him too. She tries to tell him, but she isn't ready and he sees that and tells her it's okay to wait until she is. So they go the rest of the season with him knowing she has feelings for him, but not acting on it. At the end of the season, she tells him she is in the mood for pretzels, in other words openly confessing what they both know.
S4 starts less that two weeks after the end of S3 - and this is early into that season. In the very first episode Parker struggled with who she is and whether she is a bad person because of what she can do that Hardison couldn't, finally deciding that she can take herself how she wants - and choosing to do good (which resulted in helping someone in the very way she'd hoped to originally, albeit different methods). After that moment, she hugged Hardison, and later they had a conversation about how this wasn't going to be normal, but normal is what works for you (as Nana says). In the couple of episodes since then, Parker and Hardison have been close to one another more than usual.
In this episode, they speak softly to one another. She expresses sympathy for him, they hold hands. They both know how they feel, they both have admitted to their feelings. They are beginning a relationship, slowly, circling ever closer to one another. They haven't made any official changes yet but they know. They're taking it in increments.
And then Parker hears this story, of a man and a woman who loved one another deeply, and yet at the last moment the woman was unable to take that final plunge. Not out of a lack of love, but because she was too afraid (for his safety, certainly, but also for herself. that she wouldn't be able to measure up to someone so smart and well-traveled, that she was too small and not able to take care of herself, that she wouldn't be able to walk with him but would always be a weight he had to carry). Parker listens to this story and she cries. Parker saw a man die alone on a mountain, his wife grieving, him knowing someone loved him but unable to reach them in his final moments. That hit her deeply too.
Charlie tells her, "Don't waste time."
And Parker smiles at Hardison, because she isn't going to. She has decided to be with him, to risk herself down to the core and open up to the love he is offering her. He told her to take her time and she has been - but now, she's not going to waste it anymore. Throughout the rest of this season, Parker and Hardison still don't officially get together. But they continue taking steady steps closer and closer. Even after 'The Grave Danger Job', a terrifying taste of losing him that might have sent the Parker of old running out of self-preservation, she continues to build towards dating him. They're still taking their time - this statement doesn't prompt her to run headlong into something she's not yet ready for. They aren't rushing by any means. All that praise holds true.
But Parker takes Charlie's advice. All that time is well spent, is actively used to let her do the growing she needs and find the comfort enough to take that final step in acting on the love they both know they have for one another. It's deliberate and so mature. There isn't a moment spent on denial when Charlie says this to her; she isn't going to waste her time like that anymore. She isn't going to falter like Dorothy did. And even if it ends in tragedy somewhere down the line, even if something like the mountain ever happened to her - she's seen how it's worth it anyway, and she has made the choice to be with him. She knows (they both know) it will happen, has already begun to happen and isn't going to stop. That's why they smile here.
#leverage#leverage rewatch#parker#parker/hardison#thiefsome#my meta#leverage meta#i just. love them both so much.#and charlie too. i love him.
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Aloha! You did it, you made me watch 5 seasons of Leverage in about a week. Thank you, I love them all and miss them already. Where is my spin-off with the OT3? Where? I do have a question though, what do you think are the living arrangements for the team? We once see Parker's storage unit and it is pretty clear at least Parker and Hardison live above the brew pub. Did they ever talk about moving in together? Did I miss something? Do I have to watch it all from the start? What a hardship ;-)
Asdfghjkl!!!!! I feel like I’ve collected a family of new Leverage fans in the past three weeks AND I’VE LOVED EVERY SINGLE MOMENT OF IT.
Also. A week????? Bloody hell. That’s dedication. I miss them too. I’ve started watching it all again for that very reason.
Oooh oooh oooh! I do have thoughts about this.
I think Parker and Eliot would still have separate living spaces to start with. Even if Parker lives with Hardison above the Brew Pub on the main, I think she’d still need space sometimes. Whether that be something similar to her old storage unit or just sleeping in the air vents of the Brew Pub every so often. However, by season 5 I feel she’d be pretty settled on the whole. Mostly because I never imagine Hardison would have asked her to move in. Hardison gets Parker and he’s always respected her boundaries and let her move at her own pace. So I imagine when Hardison bought the Brew Pub, he bought it with Parker and Eliot in mind (see: those sweet, sweet high ceilings and large air vents/A WHOLE PUB FOR ANGRY LITTLE CHEF MEN TO COOK IN ‘TIL THEIR HEART’S CONTENT) but with no pressure. Parker probably moved herself in one day. Or stayed the first night and never really left. Much to Alec’s delight.
Eliot though. Eliot I imagine takes much longer. Post-canon. Despite establishing that this thing between them is, indeed, a relationship relationship, not Hardison/Parker + Eliot for as long as they all shall live, I think Eliot would still be…slow moving. When they first get to Portland, Eliot will have had his own place, I’m sure of it. There’s no way he clocks that the Brew Pub is for him (and I’m sure Hardison planned it that way).
However, we all know this soft boy has dreams of running Hardison’s pub until his dying day. He’s fooling no-one with that “I guess this is my life now” act. He’ll never admit it but he sees himself as an old man in that pub, with an equally old Hardison and Parker to bicker with and feed. It sets his little heart aglow (not that he’d ever admit that either.) However, Eliot’s probably not thought about settling down with anyone but himself since Aimee. The thought probably scares him, just a little. Not because he’s scared of committing to Parker and Alec or that he’d ever let them down, but because he honestly thought he’d never get this. He took “happily ever after” off the table long ago and now here’s the two most wonderful, infuriating people he’s ever met offering it to him. Just like that.
Hardison is savvy to this though and I think he’d end up building Eliot a separate apartment over the Pub. Or give him a separate room in the apartment they already have. One that Eliot gradually moves into. He’d make it about the Pub and not him and Parker because Eliot needs to do things on the basis he’s helping someone, doing good. He won’t do it for himself. I can imagine Parker getting a little frustrated with how long it’s taking Eliot to move in with them but it’s a good balance because while Hardison is prepared to go as slow as Eliot needs, Parker is always the one insisting it’s silly that Eliot keeps going back to his own apartment when he could stay for cuddles and breakfast. This more or less always convinces Eliot (who is genuinely worried the two people he loves most in the world will die of poor eating habits before anything else).
I don’t think Parker would ever give up her living space away from the Pub. Even if she rarely uses it I think she’d like having the choice. Eliot, though. Eliot may take odd jobs that take him away from Parker and Hardison from time to time, but once he’s moved in he’s there for good. I like to think Hardison buys a huge bed for them all to sleep in but sometimes he’ll wake up and Parker will be sleeping in the air vents or the roof or whatever other small space she can find. Whereas Eliot, while mostly content to sleep curled up next to them, sometimes ends up sleeping on the couch or decides he’s had enough sleep by 4am and goes down to the Brewery to try out new things for the menu. On occasion, Parker will find him and join him there and will silently taste test all the food Eliot makes until the sun comes up. It’s a private thing they share and usually always ends in Parker convincing Eliot to make them all some ludicrous breakfast, like rainbow waffles or “morning chicken”. (It doesn’t matter how many times Eliot tells Parker putting “morning” in front of a food item doesn’t make it breakfast, she never listens, and he always caves.)
The best thing for Parker and Eliot though? The knowledge that one Alec Hardision will always, always be in that bed. Their bed. No matter what, they know he’s not going anywhere. Ever. Will always welcome them without judgement. Just open arms and that smile they love so, so much.
#leverage#leverage ot3#alec hardision#parker#eliot spencer#letterschming#okay this maybe got a little too long#I JUST LOVE THEM OKAY#talk leverage to me#parker x hardison x eliot
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notable moments from The Miracle Job
leverage 1.04
Eliot: That was the worst night of my life.
Parker: Come on, man, you've been in worse situations.
[Flashback]
(money is thrown on the table while a man loads one bullet in a gun and spins the barrel. He points it at Eliot’s head and pulls the trigger. Eliot flinches, but the gun does not go off)
[Leverage Kitchen]
Eliot: No. no, that was the worst.
what a dramatic little bitch
,,, also I’m always down for wacky eliot flashbacks
- - - - -
Parker: That’s St. Nicholas?
Hardison: Yes.
Parker: Santa Claus has a church?
Eliot: He’s not Santa Claus.
and the saga of parker loving christmas beGINS
- - - - -
Hardison: You think that we just gonna walk into some random tunnel and find some cholos just all yoked up? You know?
Eliot: Hardison—
(gang bangers follow Eliot and Hardison into the tunnel)
Hardison: "Yo, holmes, let me fix my do rag..."
Eliot: Dude, quiet. Listen. (turns around) Boys. We don't want any trouble. All right? We just want some answers.
Gang Leader: How's this answer?
(the Gang Leader holds his shirt aside to show the gun tucked in his waistband. Eliot reaches out and puts his hand on the gun, cocking it)
eliot’s bde move? how the fuck do you even RECOVER from that???
(another gang member pulls a gun and points it in Eliot’s face)
Eliot: You seeing this, Hardison?
Hardison: Yeah, the--the situation has my attention, yes.
Eliot: You see that's why I don't like guns. They have a specific range of efficacy. See, most guys make one mistake. They get too close.
(Eliot grabs the gun and head butts the gang member, emptying the gun and dropping it on the ground)
eliot hates guns and I love him for that
Eliot: Who rolled... a priest?
Gang Leader: We didn't beat up no priest. We are not monsters.
(Hardison notices a third gang member moving restlessly. He hits the man in the shoulder, and the man goes down in pain. Eliot grabs the gun from the Gang Leader’s waistband)
Hardison: Dislocated shoulder's a biatch. Priest gave him that.
Gang Leader: You beat up a priest? (looks at Eliot) Do you mind?
Eliot (hands him the gun): Be my guest.
Gang Leader: (points gun at gang member) You got a long penance ahead of you. Start by answering the man's questions. Now!
Eliot: Who hired you?
Gang Member: I don't know. I got a call on my cell with an offer, and I called him back after the job was done. He paid me. That's all I know. I swear.
Hardison: You got a number?
(Gang Member pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to Hardison)
Eliot: Can you do something with that?
Hardison: Seven digits. I could find you on Mars.
Eliot: Gentlemen, we'll leave you to your internal affairs. Come on.
(they walk away, out of the tunnel)
Hardison: How 'bout that? Man, you-you see me?
Eliot: He was injured.
Hardison: Well, somebody got to fight the injured. Shoot, that's my niche
me too hardison
also LMFAO eliot is so done with you you’re lucky he already has imprinted in you
- - - - -
Sophie: What is that you just took?
Grant: Xanax.
[Construction Site]
Grant: For my nerves.
Parker: Actually, caffeine. With a dash of dextroamphetamine.
(Hardison looks at Parker in surprise)
Eliot: You gave him speed?
Hardison: He beat up a priest.
hardison and eliot went from scandalized to mmm, seems fair REAL QUICK
- - - - -
Eliot: How do you know all this stuff?
Nate: I went to school with father Paul. to, uh...seminary school.
(they enter Nate’s office. Eliot hands Sophie a cup of coffee)
Eliot: So you dropped out of priest school to become a -- an insurance cop? And now you're the leader of a band of thieves. Nice.
I love eliot
- - - - -
Hardison: Y-you-you’re a catholic who wants to fake a miracle. I’m pretty sure that puts us in moral-sin territory.
Eliot: So now you're religious, too?
Hardison: No, no, I’m not denominational. It’s just, I never do anything my nana said "don't do." This, what we doin', it just don't seem right.
additionally, the hardison loving his nana saga begins
- - - - -
Nate: Give Hardison anything he needs.
Hardison: As long as I don't have to do anything immoral.
Nate: Ah, absolutely not. No, I just need you to figure out, you know, how to fake a miracle.
(Eliot laughs)
Hardison: We all going to hell
eliot being a little shit to hardison? always iconic
- - - - -
Grant (entering room): Yes, ma’am, thank you for your opinion. (hangs up) Ok, I just received a threatening phone call -- from a nun!
G O O D
- - - - -
I love the shots where the ot3 walks together they cute as hell
- - - - -
Hardison: Hell fire, damnation, et cetera. You know what? I’m gonna step over here, so when the good lord throws down on all of y'all, I don't get hit by the lightning.
Parker: Wasn’t Zeus the one with the lightning?
hardison having a freak out meanwhile parker’s just trying her best
+ bonus: another hidden talent of parker’s is that she knows obscure things like greek gods
- - - - -
BIBLETOPIA
+
tomas is so fucking done with andy
- - - - -
Hardison: Bibletopia?
Sophie: The man cannot be stopped!
Parker: It’s like everything we throw at him just makes him stronger.
Eliot: Kind of admire him, though. My nephew would like Bibletopia.
Hardison: Oh, no, see? This is what happens when you mess with god. He raises up your enemies with his right hand, and he smites you with his left.
ELIOT META: he has at least one sibling and a nephew fic writers take n o t e
poor hardison is having a Time™ in this episode
- - - - -
Hardison: I hope this is the part where you suggest prayer.
Nate: No, the weeping statue of St. Nicholas is not gonna be stolen. It's gonna miraculously disappear in the middle of tomorrow's mass.
Sophie: I’m sorry?
Nate: In front of the priest, the Vatican, the entire congregation.
Sophie: Have you learned nothing, Nate?
Nate: How much does the statue weigh?
Hardison: About 900 pounds.
Nate: Good.
Hardison: I am so sorry, nana.
let hardison REST
- - - - -
both the boys clipping the gear on parker? thievery hijinks ot3 domesticity
- - - - -
HARDISON AND ELIOT DID THEIR FIRST HANDSHAKE
- - - - -
the little girl calling parker an angel? same
- - - - -
eliot hyping up the crowd lmfao
- - - - -
Grant (to Sophie): Kristi, save me, huh? You can spin this, right? instead of, uh, "felony," maybe soften it to, uh, “controversy" or something.
(cops continue to pull Grant away as press follows)
Sophie: You know, when you say "controversy," I always hear "attention”.
*john mulaney voice* sophie is a bitch and I L O V E H E R
- - - - -
(Nate looks at the candles along one wall and walks over to them. He lights a candle as the rest of the team waits. After a moment he rejoins them and they walk toward the door)
Hardison: Look at that. Saved a church.
Parker: It’s like Christmas. See? I told you St. Nicholas is Santa Claus.
Sophie: No, he's not, Parker.
Parker: Well, who is he, then?
Sophie: St. Nicholas… is the patron saint of thieves.
the team is always there to support each other pass it on
+
patron saint of thieves? ICONIQUE
#leverage#leverage 1.04#leverage 1x04#notable moments#mine#the miracle job#leverage season 1#season 1
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Time for the second-to-last @whumptober2020 fic!
This one’s for theme 27 - OK, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTERS ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD? for the prompt Power Outage. It’s also a present for a friend, who asked if I could write Leverage OT3 fic for her birthday-present - I’ve never written Leverage fic before, but I do love some good Eliot/Parker/Hardison, so I’ve tried!
#
They’re in the middle of watching Ratatouille, because Parker’s never seen it and Hardison likes Pixar and Eliot can quietly critique animated knife skills in his head but say nothing, when the power goes out. There’s a crash and a boom of thunder and a whip of wind, rain hammering down, and just like that, snap, it’s all dark.
“Oh man,” Hardison says, “oh, come on, no,” and he’s sitting up and reading for a laptop or two as if that’ll do anything, dislodging their comfortable pile of lounging bodies and blankets and a popcorn bowl flawlessly balanced on Parker’s knee.
Or he would be disrupting it all, if Eliot hadn’t expected the motion, hadn’t moved in turn, catching the bowl, shifting to redistribute weight and free a blanket. He sets the bowl down as his eyes adjust to the dark; he’s always been good at seeing in it, though of course they’re all three not bad at that. Good at improvising, adapting, new environments.
Parker, distressed, is on her feet. Even in the dark she’s quick and feline, poised to move. “Who could—”
“—find us here?” Hardison checks the battery on a phone, sets it down, gets up as well: catching her hands as they move, offering reassurance and being reassured in turn. “Nobody. I swear. This’s our place. I’ve got that taken care of.”
Their place. Their home: the three of them, when they’d become a them at last. Eliot can shut his eyes and recall with perfect clarity the way Parker and Hardison had shown him around, so excited; the way he’d smiled and tried so hard to be excited for them, for their life together, the happiness they deserved, while he’d known he’d be the one leaving and walking away into the cold, leaving his heart with both of them, knowing they’d never know, and that’d be fine, he could live with that as long as they were happy, he could take anything if—
He can recall the way they’d each taken one of his hands, and the way they’d leaned in to kiss him, easy as breathing, easy as if it could all be simple, easy if he could believe they had room to spare for him.
This is your home too, Parker had said, eyes wide, surprised that Eliot hadn’t understood this: we found it for us. And Hardison had reached out and drawn him close, and Eliot had gone willingly, because they wanted him, because he didn’t believe it, because they wanted this here and now and he’ll always say yes even if they’ll look at him in the morning and say that was enough, curiosity satisfied, time to go. He’ll say yes to them even if it kills him.
He’s somehow still here, three months after that.
He gets up as well, now, in the dark. Parker’s pacing and irritated; none of her best acrobatic skills are of use here, nothing to steal or dare or leap from. Hardison’s annoyed at the power outage but coping by talking to her and checking all his backups and complaining about the timing and the lack of ability to see.
That, at least, Eliot can do something about.
He leaves them to find balance in each other; he has a number of various types of emergency stashes hidden in multiple places around the house, most of which Parker and Hardison know about, some they don’t. He never wants to be unprepared; he never wants to be unable to defend them. He finds candles, real and LED; he finds flashlights, and battery packs, and, after a moment’s thought, some chocolate.
He catches them both looking at him, and then at each other, when he comes back into the living room; he says nothing—no need; he doesn’t need comfort, he’s just fine if they’re also fine—and only starts setting out candles, lighting them, turning them on if they’re artificial.
Light blooms through the darkness. From tabletops, shelves, the fireplace, kitchen counters. In white and gold, honey and amber, warm and soft and clear and bright: shades of illumination sweep out and curve into quiet safe globes and spheres. They push back the dark, befriend it, share the night: layers of luminosity, brighter and dimmer, overlapping.
He sets out a few battery packs in case Hardison needs them. He crosses over to them, or a few steps away, and offers the box. “Here.”
Parker takes it. Opens it. “Magic chocolate! You found it in the dark!” The small shiny truffles beam up, bathed in candlelight.
“When’d you buy chocolate?” Hardison takes one. His eyebrows go up. “You got the good kind, too.”
“Made,” Eliot says, not offended but with an odd little feeling in his chest, a pang that’s not really hurt. “A while ago. Just practicing. There’s some with orange zest, some with pink pepper, some with walnut cream.”
Hardison looks at him for a minute. Light caresses his cheekbone, the side of his face, the tilt of his head; Eliot wants to touch him. That’s just a want, though, no practical reason; no invitation, anyway.
In defiance of the want, he says, “I can make a fire, too. If it’s gonna get cold. No telling how long it’ll be out.”
Parker licks chocolate from a fingertip and looks up. “He didn’t mean he thought you didn’t know how to make chocolate. He meant these are really good.”
“I know,” Eliot says.
“Eliot,” Hardison says.
“I can get more blankets,” Eliot says, “too.”
“Come here,” Hardison says, and that’s somewhere between an order and a joke, the kind of flippant banter they toss back and forth without thinking; but it’s also the tone that means this is important, you need to listen, something might blow up if you don’t, so Eliot finds himself taking a step that way without thinking, because he trusts Hardison and Parker without hesitation, no matter what might explode.
Rain drums across the world, over rooftops and streets and balconies. Eliot’s never liked fighting in rain. Too slippery. Unpredictable.
It’s not bad, sometimes, for concealment. The noisy sheets of water can hide sound and motion, and that can be an advantage. Of course, it’s an advantage for the other side, too.
Hardison puts an arm around him, folds him in close. The gesture’s fluid, natural, no hesitation about affection. Eliot leans into it because he can’t not, just for a second.
He’s allowed that much. They’re all comfortable with each other; they have to be, in the field, and they relax that way as well.
On the couch. In the bed. Because he’s somehow been invited in, touched and kissed and made to feel pleasure, because they asked.
Someday they’ll stop asking, stop wanting. He gets that. He understands. He won’t ask for anything more than they give.
But here and now the world’s full of mingled light and dark, and Hardison’s body’s solid and strong and firm, and so Eliot does let himself lean in, a moment like the balance of candlegleam and shadow, suspended between realities. He’s cared for them, the people he loves. He’s found them light and warmth and sugar. That’s all he needs, really. He’s good, knowing that.
“Eliot,” Hardison says again, and sighs. He’s tipped his head to rest against Eliot’s; his breath brushes Eliot’s hair. “I can hear you thinking about what else you can do.”
“Someone’s gotta be the competent one,” Eliot mutters. The joke’s half-hearted, and they all let it go.
Parker slips up on his other side and puts an arm around his waist and one around Hardison’s, which means they’re all now randomly standing in the living room holding each other. Eliot should move, should go check a circuit breaker or make that fire or keep a guard on a window in case this wasn’t a random outage. He doesn’t need comforting.
He doesn’t move.
The rain pounds harder over glass windowpanes and roof-tiles and the wood of the balcony railing.
“We know you love us,” Parker says, eyes all earnest, face all honest. She doesn’t hide from saying it, blunt as ever. “Why don’t you know it? About us?”
“Because it’s tough.” It’s Hardison who answers, hand touching Eliot’s face, cupping Eliot’s cheek; and Eliot should run, should back away, should take himself out of this circle of affection before he breaks it with clumsy strength and fists and brute force…
He still doesn’t move.
“We love you.” Hardison uses the hand to tip Eliot’s face up, and kisses him: a kiss like security, like certainty, like commitment to a plan. The kiss tastes like chocolate and oranges, and Hardison’s mouth’s warm and commanding, not aggressive but confident in the claiming. Eliot does not tremble, because he doesn’t, but it’s so close to everything he wants, too close to fracture-points and breaking joints—
Hardison draws back. Searches his face. “Eliot, we love you because you’re you. Because you’re the one who always has our backs—”
“Or our fronts!” Parker adds brightly. “Or our sides, or—”
“—and you jump in and fight for us, you take hits for us, over and over. And then you come home when we ask, and you find candles when we’re both busy complaining.” Hardison touches Eliot’s mouth, this time. “You know you don’t have to earn it, right?”
“I’m just here,” Eliot says. “I’m just trying to make everything, y’know, good. What I do. Hit things, fix things, cook things.” Hardison’s fingertip’s distracting. It taps him on the nose, almost a scolding, then brushes his cheekbone, the spot where his eyelashes land when he blinks, the corner of his eye. He absolutely does not want to cry, to beg for more touches, to ask for more words that hold promises.
“Sometimes, yeah. You do all those things. You do them all for us.” Hardison glances over. “Parker, help me out here.”
She bounces up to kiss him, swift as a sparrow. Then says, “Tripods are more stable.”
Eliot blinks. Considers this.
“Wouldn’t work as well without you,” Hardison contributes. “All three legs. Holding us up. It’s not the two of us plus you, it’s all three of us. Otherwise we’d tip over.”
Parker makes a gesture that Eliot guesses is meant to illustrate a loss of balance, and agrees, “Boom.”
“So you get it,” Hardison finishes. “We love you. And you love us. Here, have one of your awesome chocolate things.”
Eliot starts to protest. Finds himself being hand-fed a truffle, because Hardison’s still holding the box.
It’s pretty good, he has to admit.
“Okay,” Hardison says, “come on,” and walks them all back to the couch, and gets them arranged: Eliot squarely in the middle, lying down, being cuddled by them both. He could fight, could resist, could use physical hard-won training to remove himself from the spot.
They drape arms and legs and body weight over and around him. It’s nice. Grounding. Tangible. His heartbeat steadies. His toes feel warm.
He dares to wrap an arm around Parker, to hold Hardison a little closer, in turn.
“Yeah.” Hardison sounds pleased. “Like that. We got you, okay? You don’t have to do anything. You let us do this, right now.”
“You’re our Eliot,” Parker says, and feeds him another chocolate. This one’s got a hint of pepper, smoky and sweet, and it leaves heat and sugar in his mouth. In his gut. In his chest. A pooling glow.
The couch is large and sturdy and doesn’t mind holding all three of them as they tangle themselves together. The rain purrs and leaps, cleansing the night. The power might be out for a while, but they’ve got candles, and back-up generators, and batteries, and blankets, and each other.
They do have each other. Eliot has them, and Parker and Hardison have him too, and so maybe, maybe—
This can work.
Tripods are stable, after all.
He has to clear his throat. “Wouldn’t, um. Wouldn’t want you to tip over. Without me.”
Parker’s hand strokes his hair. “You won’t let us.”
“I won’t,” Eliot tells her, tells them. “Never. I’d catch you.”
“Yep.” Hardison slides a hand under Eliot’s shirt, resting over his stomach, skin to skin. It’s not sexual, not now, at least. Only intimate. Purely present. Feels good there. “We know you would. So let us catch you, too, all right?”
It’s hard but it’s also simple, effortless, a choice that’s not one. This is right; this feels right. Eliot knows about instincts. And he believes—beyond any doubt—that these two, his partners, will catch him.
So that’s the answer. It’s the only possible answer. It’s a loosening, an acceptance, sweet as adrenaline and relief. He starts to say, “Yeah,” and barely gets the first sound out before Parker kisses him, and then Hardison kisses him, and together they taste like chocolate and warmth and balance, held secure between the couch and their bodies and golden light and falling rain.
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A Thief in the Night
The click of the hotel door lock opening wakes him, puts him on instant high alert. He opens his eyes slowly, seeing a flash of blonde hair just before their intruder ducks into the bathroom, a bag in her hands. It's 3:40am by the clock by his bed.
Just Parker, he thinks and almost lays his head back down, because it's not that unusual for them to duck in and out of each other's rooms. He's pretty sure the entire right side of his body is a giant bruise and his shoulder is throbbing from a glancing blow from one of the mark's cars. Something about the scene bothers him through and he hasn't lived as long as he has in the job he does by ignoring those instincts.
Fuck. The word flashes through his head in bold red letters as he rolls out of the bed, abused muscles protesting. Hardison is snoring in the other bed, ear plugs and an eye mask insulating him from the real world. Eliot hikes an eyebrow as he passes, wondering how the other man can leave himself so utterly defenseless.
The lights are off in the hotel room, but enough filters in through the blinds that he can see where he's going. His bare feet are soundless against the plush carpet. He pauses outside the bathroom door to listen, not really sure what he's expecting to hear but it isn't a stifled groan of pain that puts him instantly on edge.
He taps his fingers against the door, leaning close before he speaks. "Parker? What's going on?"
"I'm fine," she says but there's a layer of strain in her voice that belies her words. "Go back to bed."
He almost does, stopping the impulse at the last second. Don't add this to the list of things you're going to hell for, boy, he thinks and gives the door a gentle push. If she's hurt, he's the only one of the team with any actual medical training which means he needs to know so he can do something about it.
She's sitting with her back to the bath, knees drawn up, arms wrapped tightly around them. Hardison's laptop bag is on the floor next to her and Eliot gets another prickle of unease. It doubles as a secondary first aid kit, because it's usually wherever the hacker is, stocked with the basics like bandages and painkillers. He's also pretty sure they used the last supplies from it earlier in the day, and he hasn't had a chance to refill it.
"Darlin', are you hurt?" Eliot asks, and sits down carefully next to her. There's a lamp above the sink and he stretches up to click it on, feeling the pull in the muscles in his shoulder.
"No… not hurt," Parker says, but she's even paler than normal, face drawn, and as he watches, another spasm of pain washes over her, tightening her lips into a thin line.
"Then what's going on?" he asks, softly, and scooches over a tiny bit so their shoulders are touching. "I might be able to help, if you'll tell me."
She turns, carefully, to face him, eyes darting over the bruising on his face, his arm, the tape and dressing peeking out of the raggy t-shirt he'd worn to bed. "You'll think I'm being a sissy," she says eventually.
It's cold, in the bathroom and he wants his nice warm bed again, even though he knows he won't get back to sleep. "Dammit, Parker," he growls, softly and bumps her with his shoulder. "Spit it out, already."
"I have really bad cramps," she blurts out, not really sure what to expect. Disgust, like her first boyfriend? Embarrassment? Anger, for waking him over she's old enough to deal with herself?
To her surprise, he just quirks an eyebrow at her and sighs. "You couldn't have said that before I sat down?" he grumbles, but there's no heat in it. "Come on, I have some stuff in my duffle that'll probably help."
He bites the inside of his lip as he stands, holding back a heartfelt groan, and mentally runs through his private stash of medical supplies. He has both heat and ice packs and a range of drugs.
The bed creaks a little when he sits down, dragging the duffle up onto the mattress next to him.
Parker stands at the end of the bed and even at that distance, he can see her shivering. She's wearing flannel pjs with bunnies on, but they're not helping much. It's cold in the hotel, even colder outside. It had started to snow just as they made it back which is why they'd decided to stay the night.
He glances at her, licks his lips before he speaks. "Do you want to lay down?" The thought of sending her back to the girl's room makes him uneasy.
"Do you mind?" she asks softly, and he knows if he looks up, she'll be making herself small. The urge to find out who hurt her and smash their teeth down their throat is a familiar one, and he swallows it down.
"Wouldn't have offered if I did," he says and goes back to fishing in the bag, pulling out an adhesive heat patch. He uses them, occasionally, on cold mornings when he wakes up aching, stiff and sore.
She takes it, peeling the wrapper and sticking it in place on her lower back before curling up in the bed. It's a king, so there's plenty of room.
He pulls out the tub of drugs he always carries. Most have been legitimately prescribed to him at some point, but there are others that have found their way into his stash by less law abiding means. He finds the pills he wants and pops one out, breaking it in half. It's a painkiller and muscle relaxant combination and he's pretty sure it'll help. A full pill wipes him out which is why he rarely takes them, so yes pretty sure that half will at least let her get some sleep.
"Have you taken anything since we got back?" he asks, because the last thing he wants to do is overdose her.
"No, it was okay earlier," she says, curling one arm under the pillow. "How do you feel?"
He grunts. "Like I got clipped by a car," he says and passes her the pill along with a bottle of water.
She eyes it, then pops it in her mouth, swallowing it and he marvels in the implied trust in that. If their situations were reversed, he's pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to do the same.
"Eliot," she says, and something in her voice catches his attention so he turns, meeting her eyes. "Take the other half." She offers the water bottle and he takes it, knowing that she probably has a point if he doesn't want to spend the morning sore and stiff and miserable. Half a pill is a low dose for him but he swallows it anyway, then stands, intending to sack out on the sofa until a more reasonable hour when he can get up and scrounge for breakfast.
"Stay?" she asks, softly and without looking at him, like it's the hardest question she's ever had to utter.
He wants to say no, wants to stand and walk away, but he can't deny the look in her eyes, like she's already expecting the worst. He might be a bastard but he's never deliberately hurt any of his team and he's not about to start now. He eases under the comforter, shifting a bit until he finds a spot that's comfortable for both his back and his ribs.
"Thank you, Eliot," she whispers, reaching over to rest her fingers on the inside of his wrist.
"Anytime, Parker," he says, but she's already asleep.
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My Very ScientificTM Breakdown of Parker and Hardison’s Relationship
Someone asked me to explain how I’ve charted out Parker and Hardison’s relationship across all five seasons of Leverage, so here you go. All of this is off the top of my head, I literally just sat down and wrote this in a few hours, but I’d love to hear any responses y’all have to it! Do you agree? Disagree? Did I leave something out? Let me know!
It begins in Nigerian Job with Hardison finding Parker attractive (because, of course, she’s amazing). He offers her the whole box of earbuds and Eliot notices and teases him about it. So we know from the beginning he’s attracted to her, which isn’t that surprising.
In Homecoming Job (episode 2), while Hardison and Nate are watching Parker ‘steal a law,’ Hardison calls her “sexiness” and Nate tells him to maybe ease up on that. Again, Hardison is commenting on his more surface-level attraction to Parker, and on his appreciation for her skills (because competence porn). Nate has noticed, rightfully, that Hardison doesn’t appear to have that much experience with girls, and therefore might not realize that his comments about Parker being sexy might make her uncomfortable (which I think they definitely would at this stage). So Nate is trying to help Hardison out by saying, “hey, maybe chill with that especially if she can hear you.” Let’s face it, Parker would probably not want her appearance commented on in that way at that point.
Which leads to Wedding Job, when Hardison casually says that she looks “much better in the same dress” than the maid of honor, and Parker is kind of confused and asks “You really think I look good?” He does think she looks good, obviously, he has from the beginning, but this more casual way to approach it was the much smarter move given her skittishness. I think that exchange is what prompts Parker to tell Hardison that she’d pretended to be meeting him for sex in the screening room. I don’t know if it’s what gave her the idea to use that excuse in the first place, but I definitely think it’s why she told him about it when he asked. I think it was an acknowledgement to say “I hear you, and I appreciate that you find me attractive, but I’m not prepared to do anything with that, so I’m just gonna tease you about it a little and never mention it again.” Basically, she’s not shutting him down, but she’s not prepared to encourage him, or take the relationship any further at this stage.
(There’s another little quip in Mile High Job about how if Parker was a geek she’d be really turned on by Hardison’s hacking, and she just kind of rolls her eyes, which I think is a fair response. It’s similar to the way she rolls her eyes when Eliot talks about some of his relationships. I don’t really read to much into that.)
By Bank Shot Job, we see them becoming closer friends. They work well together as the undercover agents (which they also did in Wedding Job, but they anticipate and riff off each other really nicely in Bank Shot, indicating that they’ve worked together long enough to be a well-oiled machine). Also they’re obviously hanging out in the van together when the episode starts, and they mention they’ve been in Juan for a few weeks by that point, so I think it’s fair to say they’ve definitely reached friend territory by now.
Regardless, once we get to Stork Job, they’re “a little more than a team.” That episode is a lot for Parker, and has a lot of her personal growth in it, obviously. It also shows Hardison opening up about his own past for the first time, and it shows how deeply Hardison cares for Parker and her safety. Personally, I also think the scene when What’s-His-Face is flirting with Parker and Hardison keeps making Parker laugh by saying stuff like “do my cape and fangs frighten you” is a sweet moment because he makes her laugh. I don’t really read this moment as jealousy, though I’ve seen that some people do, but I just think he was commenting on how ridiculous What’s-His-Face is. (I forgot the character’s name because he’s always just gonna be Moriarty from the Librarians to me).
Juror # 6 Job is also great, and I really didn’t want to make this an episode by episode break down, I was really just going for broad overall themes, but I’m in too deep at this point. In Juror #6 we have Hardison who initially brushes off Parker’s concerns just like the rest of them, but he does come around and convinces Nate to listen to what Parker is saying. He also has the insight to say that Parker never had experience with people, etc. I like this scene because it mimics the previously mentioned scene in Homecoming Job with Hardison and Nate sitting in that same spot discussing Parker. Obviously at the end, we also have that sweet moment where Parker is proud of Hardison for his closing statements and also proud of herself for acting ‘normal’ (and I think he’s proud of her too).
Then in First David, we get the first kiss. Obviously there are different ways to read this one. Either Parker is only focused on the job, and only kissed him because it helped her break in, OR she used the break-in as an opportunity to get to kiss him without actually having to follow through with anything else because she could just play it off. I like to believe the second option, because I think her awareness of his feelings is high enough that she’s starting to question her own feelings at this point, but isn’t consciously ready to go there. So I think she wanted to kiss him and she got to use this as an excuse, and then shut that door again immediately and pretend it never happened. Because later in Second David she was obviously just pretending to not know what Hardison was talking about. She just wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.
I do also think that small moment in Second David is really telling when Hardison says something like “no calls no texts for three months, I don’t need y’all” and Parker is seriously offended—like seriously offended, and says “What do you mean ‘you don’t need us’?” In her mind, not only does he obviously need her (they’re more than a team at this point, after all), she stayed away and didn’t contact him because she was protecting him. That was the safest thing to do, it doesn’t mean she didn’t want to talk to him. But Hardison is less . . . emotionally equipped to have to split up from his new family for months without contact, so it makes him feel like they never cared about him in the first place.
Then we reach season 2, where we have the “people are like locks. You have to have patience and be fiddly” conversation. (By the way y’all, literally all of these quotes are off the top of my head, so if I misquote stuff please forgive me). Anyway, here Hardison wants Parker to know that he did look for her because he wants to be sure she knows he cares about her enough to try (I think she’s perfectly aware he was looking and has been intentionally not letting him succeed because she wasn’t ready for that yet, but who knows). And Parker encourages him with the fiddly message, but is again emphasizing that she’s not really ready yet. This encouragement is different from the acknowledgement she gave in Wedding Job in season one, when she was just saying “I see you.” Here, she’s saying “I see you, and continue, maybe one day it will work out.” Importantly, though, she still hasn’t addressed within herself her own feelings for Hardison.
Skipping forward a bunch, because this is already 1200 words long and I’m only on season 2, we’ve got other small things, like them pretending to be a couple several times, and Hardison getting kind of jealous of McSweeten in Fairy Godparents Job. Parker also gets mad at Hardison in Ice Man Job, but that doesn’t really advance their relationship that much. The main thing we are seeing over the course of this season is Parker’s willingness to touch Hardison more and more. She holds him in that arm bar for a long time in Tap Out Job, and she pulls him close in the safe in Ice Man. Again, these can all be written off as being part of the con or for a bigger purpose, though, because she doesn’t want to admit to Hardison or to herself that she likes touching/being close to him.
This similar thing is clear in Jailhouse Job, when he says “see, I like when we pretend to kiss” and she goes “pretend?” and scrunches up her nose. (also, is it just me, or did it look like they were trying to imply something other than kissing? Were they also kissing too? What was happening?) Because Parker may be pretending that kissing him doesn’t mean anything, but she’s not pretending to kiss him. The kisses themselves are real. Also, we see her in this episode once again get naked in front of Hardison, and once again it could be interpreted as Parker doesn’t really view her own body as sexual (perhaps hinting at being on the asexual spectrum here) or it could be interpreted as Parker wanting to mess with Hardison, or wanting to see how he’d respond. I think it kind of could be more of the latter, though I do maintain that Parker doesn’t naturally view her body as inherently sexual regardless. I think that she may have gotten naked because she knew it would make Hardison flustered, and she likes that she can make him flustered, but again she doesn’t want to examine why she likes it.
In Reunion Job we have the sweet dance, which I think is one step further than what we saw with the touching in season 2, where this time there’s no “excuse” for her to dance with him, she just does it because she wants too, which is great. But I don’t think at this point if he’d tried to talk to her about it directly that she’d be willing to. For the most part, Hardison is really doing as she asked and being patient, but it’s still clear he’s eager to see where things go.
(BTW, I started writing fic set in this time because there’s so much in these episodes in season three that I want to explore, so if you’re interested here’s the link but be warned I never finished it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12707019/chapters/28977393)
In Inside Job, obviously Hardison is super concerned about Parker, and I really think it’s so nice that he’s the one she calls when she gets to a phone. I also like that this is the first (?) instance of Hardison calling her “mama” that I can think of which is personally one of my favorite nicknames of his. I also think it was really eye-opening to Hardison to see how Parker lived and what her warehouse looked like. I think even though he knew all that stuff about her, it was different to see it in person.
In Scheherazade Job, Parker sides with Hardison against Nate about the whole hypnotism thing, which I think is really interesting especially given that Nate says Hardison doesn’t have the ruthlessness needed to run a crew, but he leaves Parker as the mastermind at the end of the show, indicating that she does have that ruthlessness (which she does) but here she is still on Hardison’s side. I also doubt she’d be able to con her own team the way Nate does unless it was absolutely necessary for their survival, not just for the con. Like, she’d con them to save them from jail or to save their lives, but I don’t think she’d con them just to get a job done the way Nate did with Hardison here.
ANYWAY, we come to the biggest development, which is the Pretzels conversation in Double Blind Job. One thing I love about this is that Hardison is in no way trying to make Parker jealous in this episode. That would be really kind of manipulative of him given what he knows about her, etc. That said, I think he does a good job of pointing out that there’s no reason for him not to date someone else. Parker hasn’t said anything concrete to him about her feelings one way or another, so if someone like Ashley came along and he wanted to date her, Parker would have no reason to object. Parker realizes this too, which is why I think she actually does say something, even if she can’t actually say the words in the end. This is when Parker realizes that not only does she like Hardison’s attention and get upset when it’s given to someone else, she likes it because she likes him back. So she tells him she has feelings for pretzels, and he understands that it means “I like you but I’m not ready yet so please don’t move on to anyone else” and he accepts that and says “they’ll be here for you when you want them” essentially saying that he’s not going to move on now that he knows she really does have some feelings for him. That allows him to justify to himself waiting on her because he has something concrete, and it allows her to work through her feelings for him without having to worry that he’ll move on to someone else before she’s ready for it to go anywhere.
There are further moments this season where they grow together and are comfortable together, until finally, in Big Bang Job when they almost get blown up on the train and they manage to work together and disarm the bomb, she realizes that she is ready for pretzels. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline of the situation or what, but somewhere in that she realizes she does want to move forward. How they’re going to do that is unclear, and doesn’t come up in San Lorenzo because they’re busy with Moreau and then they have to split up for a few months, so none of this comes up again until Long Way Down Job.
In Long Way Down Job, Hardison is coming in kind of expecting a relationship at this point. Parker has said she wants pretzels, and this is the first time they’re seeing each other in the months since then. Parker, on the other hand, has used those few months to kind of get cold feet. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be with him anymore, it’s that she’s kind of gotten into her own head about being good enough for him or being able to handle a relationship in a way that’s fair to Hardison. That’s why she reverts to pretending not to see his obvious advances, and responding with “this isn’t going to be a thing, is it?” when he’s concerned for her. She’s trying to push back again, and again he respects that, but it’s obviously really upsetting for him. But after her whole experience in the crevasse with Eliot, she understands that it’s okay to be herself while she’s trying to be a better version of herself, and as long as Hardison knows that, then it’s okay. So in the end when she says “you know this isn’t going to be normal, right?” she’s admitting that she is, in fact, ready for “this.” That’s what they have in season four, a kind of limbo thing where they’re not saying they’re dating, but they’ve admitted that they like each other and they’re going on very date-like outings together. I always refer to season 4 as when they have their thing because of how Parker said, “this isn’t going to be a thing, is it?” and then turned around and said it is a thing, it’s just not normal.
We of course get more great moments in episodes like Carnival Job and Grave Danger Job where Hardison expresses that he would never replace Parker and Parker expresses that she needs Alec. I don’t think they would have said ‘I love you’ yet at this point, but I think these things are essentially saying that in different words. In Queen’s Gambit, again we get that assurance from Hardison that he’s got Parker and he’s not going to let anything bad happen to her, and he proves it.
In Experimental Job, Parker kisses him again, first on the cheek after she tells him that he’s really cool, and then on the lips to convince Zilgram that Hardison is worth having in the Dustmen. The ease with which she kisses him on the cheek indicates to me at least that a) she doesn’t mind showing him that kind of affection at this point, and that b) she doesn’t mind doing so in public. You could argue back and forth on the second kiss because it is for the job, but also I think she just really wanted to kiss him and knew she had an excuse to do so. Obviously she was acting for Zilgram’s benefit before and after the kiss, but there’s a spot in the kiss where they’re body language changes, and I think in that moment it’s a “real” kiss and not just for the con.
Parker and Hardison both have some doubts again in Girl’s Night and Boy’s Night, but again those are pretty self-explanatory, so I won’t go into them. But it’s also interesting that the team does see them as basically dating at this point regardless of whether they use that terminology. Sophie references “early relationship jitters” and it’s clear by the way Eliot gives Hardison advice that he knows what’s going on (not that they were that subtle with it, lol). It’s clear enough by the end of the season that they’re together even if they haven’t officially said anything.
They spend the 6 month break between season 4 and 5 together traveling the world, and then they finally admit to the team that they’re dating. The traveling the world time is when I really think they kind of hammered things out and actually talked not in code, which lead to their official admission to the team. I think this official admission really just means that they’ve become more comfortable talking about their relationship with others. So now they’ll refer to each other as babe (or, memorably “my santa baby”) in front of the team, etc, and refer to things as dates instead of just hanging out or activities together. They’ll spend the night together in the apartment above the brew pub, etc. But if you notice, their behavior around each other doesn’t really change that much between season 4 and 5, which I think is just more proof that they were just as much in a relationship in season 4 as they were in season 5, they just weren’t calling it that yet.
So, to break it down:
Season 1: Hardison likes Parker; Parker realizes this, and experiments with kissing him
Season 2: Parker encourages Hardison’s advances, but warns him to be patient and fiddly; she begins to touch him more
Season 3: They have the pretzels conversation, and Parker confirms she has feelings for Hardison but asks him to wait for her and he agrees
Season 4: She’s ready for Pretzels now so they have a ‘thing’ where they’re basically dating/in the early stages of dating, but they don’t call it that.
Season 5: They’re finally comfortable admitting to everybody that they’re together, and acting like a couple in public. They’ve gotten over most of their doubts/insecurities about their relationship and are mainly just being happy together as a couple.
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