#so when hardison tries to set one up he makes sure to shut it down pronto cause he cant handle the thought of having one again

[formosusiniquis]

The thing is that Leverage Consulting & Associates is, on paper, a legitimate company. Or it was a legitimate company at one point. It was founded by Harlan Leverage III, that’s how Hardison set it up and we know that he’s good at setting up the paperwork to make something look legit.

So with that in mind, I propose the following.

Parker is getting better at the people thing, the strange people thing. She’s good with the boys, they’re her boys. They get her and she gets them, usually. There isn’t the thing that Sophie is always talking about, conventions. Expectations that she has to know how to meet. It’s easier with a con, there’s a goal she just has to figure out the right things to say to reach the right end. It’s like a dialogue tree in one of Hardison’s games.

Meeting with clients is harder. Having to work out what they think they want and what they really want. It’s a mess of implications and vaguely stated desires. She doesn’t know why everyone can’t just say what they’re really thinning. She tries to have Hardison or Eliot there with her, to translate the innuendo that she knows she misses or correct her misinterpreting of a facial tic. But Eliot is running recon on the mark that they’re about to take and Hardison is working on one of his projects to help fix the world.

So it’s just her in the brew pub looking for Steve, a middle school teacher for the hard of hearing whose school is getting shut down. She finds him at the bar, the hair is, as Eliot would say, distinctive.

“Mr. Harrington,” he startles when she taps on his shoulder. Maybe Eliot is right and she’s not making enough noise when she walks.

“Yes, hello, hi.” Nervous, he’s nervous, that much she understands what to do with.

“Hello, I’m Parker, we-”

“Parker?” A question she thinks, it ticks up at the end like one. But he hasn’t actually asked anything.

“Leverage. You contacted us about your school.”

“Oh,” he brightens, maybe he thought she was confused or a stranger. “I didn’t know it was a family business.”

This was another thing she didn’t get, the weird connections people made. How the thing that she said turned into what he said. That confusion must be plain.

“I did some research, tried anyway, my sister-in-law is pretty handy with the computer stuff.”

They’ve run a lot of cons, sometimes pictures do pop up of them in the middle of a grift, Hardison’s crawlers are good but the internet is changing, apparently. It makes sense, in a way, that he might have seen a picture of her with the boys.

Eliot and Alec are her family. Nate and Sophie too.

“We are. A family business. Does that matter?”

He smiles, a real one, she knows what that means. “No! I think that’s fantastic. Family is important to me.”

“Great. Now, Mr. Harrington, what can you tell me about what is going on with your school.”

The con keeps them busy for several days, but at the end she’s excited to see Mr. Harrington again to tell him the good news. She likes this part, maybe more than the gloat. It’s like the opposite of money, the ephemeral way the joy and the gratitude on their faces can’t be hoarded.

“Thank you, Ms. Leverage, you can’t imagine how much this will mean to the students. It’s amazing that the business has stayed in the family since the 1900’s.”

It’s such a strange thing to say that she isn’t sure how to answer. So she defaults, “We’re just glad we could help.”

He leaves not much later, joining up with a man that she knows from the background check is his husband.

Alec and Eliot slip behind her once he’s gone. A quiet and subtle presence, until Alec can’t help but break the silence. “Parker Leverage. It has a nice ring.”

And it isn’t hard to admit, “It does, doesn’t it?”

[my-beloved-lakes]

@leveragetober

Leveragetober 2023

Prompt 15: Poison

Eliot gets sick and collapses. Parker and Hardison rush him to the hospital and later find out that he was poisoned. (Under the cut)

Recently Eliot, Hardison and Parker had each started taking turns doing client meetings. Parker was getting better at them, but she didn’t really like doing it, so they had agreed to take turns. Sometimes all three of them went to the meetings together, but this time it was Eliot’s turn to go alone.

“How’d the meeting go?” Parker asked when he got back from the meeting.

“Honestly, I'm not sure we should trust this client.” Eliot admitted.

“What do you mean? Why not?” 

“I just have a bad feeling about it. Little details of her story aren't lining up. It also seems like the kind of job that would actually be better handled legally.”

“So what, we’re not necessary?” Hardison asked.

“This time, no. I don't think we are. She also seemed just a little too enthusiastic about the part where this job potentially involves crime on our part.”

“You think it’s a set up?” Parker asked.

“Maybe. How much of a background check did you do?”

“Just a brief one. Everything seemed to check out, but I'll dig a little deeper.” Hardison pulled out his laptop.

Eliot sat down on one of the stools at the counter and massaged his temples. His head was starting to throb. 

“You feeling okay?” Parker asked.

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.” Hardison said contemplatively. 

“What?” Parker asked.

“Eliot might be right about this. The deeper I dig the less her story checks out.”

Eliot pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. The low throbbing in his head had turned to pounding and the lights suddenly felt too bright, which was bad, since the office lights were pretty dim to begin with.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Hardison asked.

“It’s just a headache.” Eliot muttered through gritted teeth. 

“Okay, go lay down.” Parker said. “We can pick up with this later.”

“Till then, I’ll keep digging and see what I can find about our client.” Hardison offered.

Eliot stood up, but stumbled and leaned against the counter, clutching at his chest. His lungs suddenly felt tight, making it hard to breathe. 

“Eliot, what’s going on.”

Eliot straightened up and tried to take another step, but his knees buckled under him.

Parker rushed forward and caught him before he hit the ground. She stumbled under his sudden weight and lowered him gently to the ground. Hardison rushed over and crouched down next to them.

“Eliot, talk to me. What’s going on?” Parker demanded.

“I– I can’t breathe.” Eliot gasped, pain coursing through his chest as he tried to take a deep breath.

"Hardison, call for an ambulance!"

Hardison already had his phone out and was dialing 9-1-1.

"It's okay Eliot, you're gonna be okay." Parker tried to comfort him. "Here, take a deep breath in with me." Parker took a deep breath, but Eliot couldn't. He opened his mouth, trying to suck in air but he couldn’t seem to get enough. 

Parker lifted Eliot's head onto her lap and Hardison squeezed his hand. Eliot squeezed back.

“Just hold on.” Hardison begged. “An ambulance is on the way.”

Eliot’s head suddenly jerked back and he let out a strangled cry as his whole body lurched with pain. Eliot squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw. He heard a horrified gasp from Parker and felt a gentle hand clasp his cheek.

“Eliot, hold on.”

“Stay with us man.”

“You’re gonna be okay. Just hold on a little longer.”

Parker and Hardison’s voices sounded muffled like they were coming from far away.

“Damnit Eliot. Open your eyes.” Hardison was practically shouting but Eliot could barely hear him anymore. 

Eliot’s grip on Hardison’s hand loosened then went limp. He wanted to hold on, for them, but he couldn’t, not anymore. The pain was too much.

“Eliot, no!” was the last thing he heard as he lost unconsciousness.

***

Hardison sat next to Eliot's hospital bed, holding his hand in the vain hope that Eliot would feel it and know that he was safe. Parker was on Hardison’s lap, leaning her head against his chest. Her eyes were closed, but Hardison knew she wasn’t really asleep because he could feel her trembling.

The doctors still weren't sure what had happened and they didn’t seem very confident that Eliot was going to recover.

They don’t know Eliot. Eliot’s gonna be fine. He has to. Hardison told himself.

Hardison glanced over at Eliot. The sight of the breathing tube in his mouth and the IV in his hand made Hardison’s stomach twist. He knew that right now, Eliot was relying on the ventilator to breathe for him. Whatever had happened seemed to be affecting Eliot's lungs more than anything else.

Hardison looked up when he heard a gentle knock at the door and turned to see a doctor come in. Parker shot to attention too.

“The blood work came back.” the doctor said. “There’s good news and bad news. The bad news is your friend was poisoned.”

Hardison clasped a hand over his mouth.

“What’s the good news?” Parker demanded.

“The good news is it's a fairly easy poison to treat. We’re preparing the treatment now.”

A meeting with a potential client who’s story didn’t add up, then Eliot gets poisoned. The wheels started turning in Hardison’s mind. The client was involved in this somehow. He felt sure of it, but he didn’t have the energy to think about it now, or to figure out how the two were connected. They could worry about that later, once Eliot was okay.

***

Several hours had passed since the doctors had given Eliot the treatment for the poison and still nothing seemed to have changed. 

Hardison got up and started pacing back and forth in the room. Parker took his place in the chair.

Shouldn't there be some sign of improvement by now? What if we're too late?

Hardison suddenly stopped pacing when he heard Eliot shifting in bed. He looked over just in time to see Eliot reach up and grab at the breathing tube in his mouth and darted over, grabbing Eliot’s hand before he could pull it out. Parker stood up and moved closer in case she needed to help.

Eliot struggled against Hardison’s grip, trying desperately to reach the tube, but he was still so weak from the poison that Hardison barely had to try to keep him from reaching it. Eliot began thrashing around under Hardison’s grasp.

“Eliot, calm down, man. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Hardison tried to soothe Eliot, but he wasn’t even sure Eliot was actually conscious. He still hadn’t opened his eyes and he wasn’t responding to anything Hardison said.

The heart monitor suddenly started beeping as Eliot's heart rate began to race.

Hardison cupped Eliot’s face in his hand and tilted his head to look at him. 

“Hey, listen to me. You’re gonna be okay, but you have to relax. Parker and I are right here with you.” 

Eliot finally opened his eyes and Hardison almost wished he hadn’t. There was so much fear and panic in his gaze as he locked eyes with Hardison. And Eliot couldn’t even say anything. Hardison squeezed his hand.

“Everythings gonna be okay,” he repeated. “I’m right here, and I got you.”

Eliot stopped struggling and relaxed a little at the sound of Hardison’s words. Hardison started to pull his hand away from Eliot's so he could pull up his chair to sit down, but Eliot tightened his grip on Hardison’s hand. He looked up at Hardison with a pleading look in his eyes.

It must have been like torture for Eliot, not being able to speak and barely able to move. Hardison knew how much Eliot hated hospitals, even when he didn’t get a breathing tube shoved down his throat. He hated the vulnerability of them.

Hardison sat down on the edge of the bed next to Eliot and Eliot squeezed Hardison’s hand a little tighter. 

“Okay, I’m not going anywhere.” he promised. “Do you think you could maybe not break my hand, though?” 

Eliot loosened his grip on Hardison’s hand a little but didn’t let go.

***

It was only a couple hours after Eliot woke up that the doctors had decided it was safe to take him off the ventilator, but Hardison knew it must have felt like ages to Eliot.

Eliot had agreed to stay in the hospital for a few days so the doctors could monitor him closely to make sure there weren’t any complications. Hardison knew Eliot, though, so he wasn’t at all surprised when Eliot insisted on leaving the hospital early. 

The doctors couldn’t do anything to stop him. Parker and Hardison had tried to convince him to stay, but it was no use. So the doctors had given them strict instructions to make sure Eliot stayed on bedrest and to keep a close eye on him.

Eliot wasn’t good at being put on bedrest. 

“Eliot, get your ass back in bed.” Hardison demanded when he saw Eliot get up and wander towards the kitchen.

Eliot just rolled his eyes and kept walking. He was recovering pretty well, but was clearly still a little unsteady on his feet. Keeping Eliot in bed was like pulling teeth.

Parker moved to stand in front of him, deliberately blocking his way.

“Parker, move. I'm hungry.” Eliot growled.

“No. go sit down. Hardison and I will get you food.” 

“It’ll put me back in the hospital if I eat his cooking.” Eliot muttered under his breath. 

Parker grabbed his arm and firmly guided him to the couch. She smiled a little to herself.

He must be feeling at least a little better if he’s making comments like that. She thought.  

“Stay.” She said, gently forcing him to sit down on the couch. 

Eliot grumbled and rolled his eyes, but he didn't try to get up.

As Parker headed back to the kitchen, she heard him shifting around and glanced back to make sure he wasn't getting up again. He had settled himself more comfortably on the couch and Hardison had joined him.

What would he do without us? Parker thought as she rummaged around in the kitchen for something easy to make.

[yoyomarules]

Thinking a lot about this post and Eliot Spencer and the tough conversations, the arguments, about his limitations.

Eliot waking up in a room he takes too long to identify as one of their safe houses, head pounding. There’s a gauze dressing on his forehead, a bandage expertly wound around his right arm, his left in a sling. Hardison at his side, laptop open on his knees but with that slow pulsing dot of light on the back that means it’s in sleep mode. Parker in the window seat, knees pulled to her chest, the tension coming off her in waves even though she’s perfectly still.

‘You’re awake,’ Hardison says, closing the laptop. ‘How’re you feeling?’

‘Like I got kicked in the head a few times,’ Eliot grumbles. His throat is parched.

‘Yeah,’ Hardison says. ‘Getting kicked in the head’ll do that to you.’

He reaches for a glass of water, helps Eliot sit upright a little so he can sip at it.

‘Where we at with the job?’ Eliot asks.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Hardison tells him. ‘You oughta rest.’

‘But did you get the patent?’ Eliot pushes.

‘Eliot, it’s fine.’

‘But we only have today to—we need to get back in there.’ He tries to sit up further but Hardison’s gentle hands guide him back down again.

‘You ain’t going anywhere; you look like you walked off the set of The Mummy; lie down.’

‘Fine, then you two need to—’

Hardison’s hands still rest on his shoulders, though he’s being careful not to apply any pressure. ‘It’s done, okay?’

‘You got it?’

Parker and Hardison glance at each other.

‘No,’ Hardison says, after a moment. ‘I mean the con’s done. I blew my cover when I came in after you.’

There’s a silence.

‘You came in after me,’ Eliot repeats.

‘Yeah.’

‘What the hell were you thinking?’ he demands.

‘I was thinking I’d save your life,’ Hardison replies, and his voice doesn’t rise but it’s cut through with frustration all the same. ‘You’re welcome, by the way.’

‘That guy Meyer hired as security’s a stone-cold murderer, Hardison!’ Eliot says, and his voice does rise. ‘He could’ve killed you!’

‘Yeah, and he would’ve killed you!’ Hardison snaps. ‘He’d’ve killed you ’cause he recognised you and “put down the Eliot Spencer” looks good on a hired gun’s résumé! And don’t tell me you had it handled,’ he continues, as Eliot opens his mouth to speak, ‘’cause you didn’t have shit handled. Why didn’t you say your shoulder’s still acting up, huh?’

‘Shoulder’s fine,’ Eliot says automatically.

‘That’s crap, man, and you know it.’

‘Okay, sure,’ Eliot says. ‘So I was a little slower than normal. That don’t mean you blow the whole con.’

‘I’d make the same choice again,’ Hardison says. He jerks his chin toward Parker. ‘We both would, every time. Wouldn’t even hesitate.’

‘Hardison,’ Eliot growls. ‘We made a promise to that family.’

Hardison shakes his head. ‘We didn’t promise you’d die for it.’

‘So that’s it?’ Eliot asks. ‘We make even more of a mess of their lives and then fuck off, is that how this goes?’

‘We got options,’ Hardison says. ‘We already spoke to Tara; we’ll let things settle down, try again in a few months with new faces—’

‘He’s gonna be on the lookout for a scam, and in the meantime he could—’

‘I don’t care.’

Eliot glances across at Parker. She’s still got her arms wrapped around her knees, but she’s turned her face toward them for the first time since he woke up, and her eyes are red, her words raw.

‘Parker, this is our job,’ Eliot says.

‘I don’t care!’ she repeats. ‘I don’t care how many people lose their money or their home or—or—’

‘You do,’ Eliot protests. ‘You do care.’

‘—I’ll steal it myself if it means we don’t have to lose you!’ And then she’s on her feet and shaking herself and heading toward the door. ‘I need a minute,’ she says.

Eliot watches her go, stunned, and then turns to Hardison. ’You gotta talk to her.’

‘No,’ Hardison says. ‘You gotta listen to her. You know she’s blaming herself for this? ’Cause she didn’t plan for your shoulder and she was so focused on cracking the safe she didn’t realise you were in trouble.’

‘Well, it ain’t Parker’s job to get me outta trouble.’

‘It’s her job to try to stop you getting into it in the first place,’ Hardison says. ‘And this was way too close.’

‘I’m telling you, I woulda been okay—’

‘You would not have been okay.’

‘You saying I don’t know my own limits?’

‘No, I think you know your limits just fine,’ Hardison says. ‘I just don’t know that you’re telling us your limits.’

Eliot stares at him for a long moment and then takes a sip of water. Then another.

Hardison watches him. ‘There something you wanna tell me right now?’

Eliot sighs and rubs a hand over his eyes, kind of hoping Hardison might forget he asked. But he’s sitting there expectantly, watching, watching, and Eliot squirms under his gentle scrutiny until he can’t help but admit, ‘It ain’t just the shoulder.’

‘What else?’ Hardison asks, voice carefully neutral.

‘It’s…lately I’ve been…’ He sighs again. ‘It’s like I still know how a fight should go, right? How I can beat ’em, easy. Long as I’m at a hundred percent.’

‘How often are you at a hundred percent?’ Hardison asks quietly.

Maybe it’s the head wound, but it feels like hours pass before Eliot confesses, ‘Less often, these days.’

The words hangs in the air between them. Hardison’s face shifts between devastated and scared and maybe just the smallest bit relieved, and he says, ‘Okay. So we gotta… we just gotta figure out around that, okay? More time between jobs, more cons where you’re just grifting—’

‘Hardison, c’mon; we can’t—’

‘And we have to know when to pull the plug. And look, you’re right—no one knows your body better than you do. So you have to tell us if something’s too much, ’cause I’m with Parker. We can’t lose you, man. We won’t.’

And it’s not like Eliot’s not aware of that fact, after seven years working together and two of those together-together, but he still swallows hard before answering. ‘If I agree to tell you when I need you to come in, are you gonna listen to me when I tell you to stay put?’

‘I mean, yeah,’ Hardison says. ‘Unless you’re obviously being stupid or some Estonian merc is actively at this moment attempting to bash your brains in. Or both.’

‘He was Latvian,’ Eliot mutters.

‘Okay, well, let’s say any Baltic state,’ Hardison suggests.

He rolls his eyes. ‘Fine.’

Hardison seems, if not satisfied, then at least willing to let the conversation drop for now. Eliot pulls at a loose thread on the bedspread. ‘I think I gotta apologise to Parker,’ he says.

‘Yeah, you should.’

‘And I guess I gotta thank you, huh?’

‘I know,’ Hardison says. ‘This must be awful for you.’

Eliot looks him in the eye and says it with a little more force than necessary. ‘Thank you.’

Hardison grins. ‘No problem.’ He leans over and kisses the bit of Eliot’s forehead that isn’t covered in dressings. ‘Get some rest, all right? We’ll be here when you wake up.’

‘Yeah,’ Eliot says, letting his eyes drift shut. ‘Yeah, I know you will.’

[party-gilmore]

Thinking 'bout rope burns on Eliot's hands.

Thinking 'bout Pre-T3 Eliot noticing just as Parker jumps off the roof that they've been blown, that someone somewhere found out and they sabotaged Parker's equipment while The Team was doing their last perimeter check. Someone sneaky and clever and willing to kill to protect their client. Eliot already has a mental list of possible active mercs that fit a stealth infil profile even as he dives for the rapidly unrolling cord.

Knowing he doesn't have time to grab gloves. Knowing what it'll do to his already damaged hands. The tightly braided metal fiber is far worse than woven rope, slicing through his palms with slick precision, but he's not gonna fucking let go of Parker. His strangled yell over the comms has even Sophie stuttering in her grift, and he grunts out a quick summary of the situation between heaving breaths as Parker's descent jolts to a halt - the end of the cable a few mere inches from sliding through his bleeding hands.

Thinking 'bout Parker's trip back up the side of the building, Eliot shutting down what parts of his brain he can as he continues hand over hand along the cable to help pull her back up. She yells at him to stop, that she can free climb from here, but it still hasn't stopped raining and Eliot's not gonna take that chance

Thinking 'bout later, when they regroup at the brewpub to start work on Plan J, Parker is still kinda trembling where she's curled up on the right side of the sofa. She's safe, nothing more than some bruising around her rig where it wasn't supposed to take her weight at that particular angle, but she's shaking. The kind of nervous shake of someone coming down off of adrenaline. Eliot wants to reach out to her, offer one of the comforting touches they've been working on, but his hands are currently in Hardison’s lap. So he stretches one leg out across the couch and shoves Parker's ankle with his foot. She uncoils a little to tap back with her own toes.

Thinking 'bout Hardison's low "oh my g-d" when he finally saw Eliot's hands, fingers curled and clutched tight to his chest as red ran through them. Ignoring Eliot's "they're fine, just get us out of here before the Mark knows we know we're blown," to gingerly take his wrists and peel them away from his shirt. Eliot's curled fingers are twitching, hands shaking, and-

"Hardison!" Eliot bites out, tone urgent, but doesn't pull away. It snaps his attention back to the situation at hand, but he still doesn't move unti Parker is there slipping his hands away and sliding into place in his stead.

"I got him," she murmurs quietly, and Eliot ducks his head, and Hardison can get back in the driver's seat knowing Parker's handling it for now.

For now.

Thinking 'bout how when they get back to the brewpub, Eliot tries to head off on his own thinking that the rudimentary first aid Parker applied in the back of Lucille would be enough to appease Hardison's worry. It's not. They bundle him upstairs, to less complaining than they anticipated, and sit him right down on the left side of the sofa.

Eliot's mostly quiet as Hardison sits on the coffee table opposite him and pulls his damaged hands close. He doesn't watch as Hardison unravels the quick bandages Parker applied, doesn't flinch when he starts in with the antibiotic cream. Eliot just twitches his fingers a bit here, takes a sharp breath in there, and mostly just keeps an eye on Parker. Still more worried about Parker's state than his own.

Hardison keeps his touch gentle as he cleans, disinfects, rewraps those hands. The hands that protect him. Protect Parker... The hands he's never really gotten to examine this much. That he only really gets to see when they've either caused violence or had violence done to them.

'It's not fair,' he thinks, 'that these hands never get to touch without violence involved.' He's surprised by the longing behind the thought, by the want. By how it's not just for Eliot's sake that these hands deserved to be touched gently, but also by how much he wants to touch. For his own sake.

He watches Eliot watch Parker for a few minutes while his thumbs run over the last edges of the bandages. He watches Eliot clock her need for assurance, watches her respond in kind. Mutual understanding passing between them in a language Hardison’s still not quite able to speak. And he realizes he's okay with that.

Actually, he's more than okay with that. He likes it. To know that Parker has a second safety net stretched across a different axis than the one Hardison provides, just in case she falls in a direction he can't catch... but what does Eliot have? He takes the hits for them. Tears up his hands, from palm to knuckle for them. Catches ropes even when they slice him up, and then reassures them when it should be him receiving comfort for it. What does he get in return for it?

'Us.' The thought dawns so simply in the back of his brain as Parker slowly unfurls, playful shoves slowing to a stop and her leg just resting alongside Eliot's across the center of the couch. Casual. Comfortable. Easy. 'He has us.'

"All set?" Hardison jumps a little as Eliot's voice breaks the silence Hardison hadn't even realized was drawing on so long.

They finally break their gaze to meet Eliot's, wide-eyed and red faced.

"Almost," he replies, gently turning the bandaged hands over, thumb gliding along warm wrists, watching Eliot shiver with the touch. Testing a theory. He takes Eliot's left hand, carefully turning it open side up and holds it out to Parker. He locks eyes with her and lightly, deliberately, presses a soft kiss to the center of Eliot's right palm. While the man between them splutters and stammers, his girl picks up what's putting down and the shakey smile she'd been nursing since they got safe turns into a delighted grin. She follows Hardison's lead and places a kiss of her own in Eliot's left.

"We should touch more," Parker supplies, blunt and straightforward as usual. "When you're not hurt. Stop getting hurt."

"I-... I can't just... Parker, that's not-"

"You know mama, I think you're right," Hardison hums, Eliot's hand still in the grip of his left, letting the fingers on his right trail up the inside from sensitive wrist to even more sensitive inner elbow. "The thing is, that's not just a You And Me decision, is it?" He's responding to Parker, but he keeps his eyes on Eliot and his tone pointed, making sure the man knows the question is his to answer - if he wants to.

Eliot's fingers twitch again, but he doesn't pull away.

From either of them.

[be-gay-do-heists]

another short hurt/comfort ficlet since i’m on a roll, this time for hardison because that convo about how many plans he dies in always rubs me wrong. no plan m, never.

The cool autumn air felt good on Hardison’s warm face and stuffy nose. He sniffled, adjusting his position on the floor where he sat underneath the open window in his living room. The area was surprisingly sparse, considering how he liked to wear his interests on his sleeve, but he had never been pressed to decorate it since they all spent so much time in Nate’s apartment, which was just down the hall. Tonight, however, he was feeling the need to be alone.

Hardison heaved a shuddering breath. He hadn’t had a good cry in… oh. He guessed he had been crying a lot recently. The jobs had only been getting harder and more stressful, and everyone was always expecting more of him. It was so easy to feel alone behind his computer, four other voices clamoring in his ear and not a word of appreciation afterwards. And after what Nate had said that night about backup plans, it had all just gotten to him, weighed him down. The hacker had lost track of how long he had been sitting on the hardwood floor, arms hugging the knees pulled up to his chest. It was like he couldn’t do anything but let the hot tears roll down his face.

A gentle tap on the door broke through his fugue, and he lifted his head as it clicked open. Sophie’s voice came through. “Hardison?” The grifter took a couple tentative steps inside the apartment. “Your front door was unlocked, and Parker texted me that she heard crying.”

Hardison bit the inside of his cheek. He was a quiet crier by nature, but if Parker had been out climbing after they all split up for the night there was no way her crazy sensitive hearing wouldn’t pick up the sounds coming from the open window. He couldn’t blame her for reaching out to the person she relied on most for solving emotional situations.

When Sophie rounded the couch and saw him on the floor, she stopped in her tracks. “Oh dear. I’m sorry, um, I didn’t mean to invade, I can leave if—“

“No,” Hardison croaked, “it’s alright, you can stay.” He had been feeling lonely enough recently, and crying by himself in his apartment probably wasn’t helping matters.

She slowly sat on the floor, not too close, and wrapped her sweater around herself as she studied him. There was a stretch of silence punctuated only by Hardison’s sniffles. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Sophie finally tried.

The words seemed to be lodged in his throat. Hardison looked at her for a second and then rested his chin on his knees again.

Sophie, ever intuitive, pursed her lips. “You’re upset about what Nate said at dinner tonight, aren’t you.” She sighed. “I’m going to have a talk with that man soon about how he tells his jokes.”

“It’s not just that,” he said, shaking his head, which felt heavy and muddled. “It’s just, you know the jobs we’ve been taking recently. There’s only so many impossible things I can do, Sophie. And everyone keeps expecting me to do everything and be everywhere and I just, I can’t. And Plan M and all that nonsense, like I’m not even worth—“ he stopped himself, feeling the tears coming again. Hardison didn’t mind crying in front of Sophie. They were both emotionally in tune enough to be comfortable with it. But he was so frustrated by how the words wouldn’t come.

The grifter nodded. “Like you’re unappreciated. Taken for granted. I understand.” Sophie rose and walked to the kitchen counter, retrieving a kleenex box. She looked like she was parsing her thoughts as she came back and handed a few tissues to Hardison.

“You are not dispensable, not in any universe,” she said, sitting a little closer to him this time. “Listen to me. This whole thing, it doesn’t work without you. And I’m not just talking about the jobs, though that’s true as well. This thing,” she gestured between them, and in different directions where supposedly Nate, Eliot, and Parker existed at some point in space, “wouldn’t work if you weren’t here. There’s a reason Nate’s place feels more like a home after you set up shop there and refused to take no for an answer, why we all followed. You’re the nester, the soft, gooey center, as it were.”

Sophie smiled at him and reached out to wipe away a tear that had found its way to his chin. “We love you, we all do. But you’re right that we ask a lot of you sometimes. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how difficult that had become. The next time you feel overwhelmed, you let me know and I’ll have your back one hundred percent.”

Hardison drew a deep breath in and let it out shakily, feeling like he finally had access to fresh air again. “Thanks, Sophie.”

She hummed, drawing out her phone and tapping at it. “Of course, darling. I see Eliot texted me asking if you’ve eaten.”

The hacker knew Eliot wouldn’t be asking if he hadn’t seen him picking at his meal over dinner tonight, too occupied to eat. He was realizing now that he was actually hungry, his stomach grumbling at the thought of food. “No,” he admitted.

The unimpressed look Sophie gave him was brief as she went back to typing. “He wants to know what you would like.”

Hardison wanted something comforting, something that would remind him of warmth and home. “Does he have any recipes for albondigas soup? No treyf ones, neither.”

A moment passed where they waited for a reply (Eliot was a notoriously slow typer), and then Sophie snorted. “He says to give him half an hour, he’s using, and I quote, that ‘damned high-tech pressure cooker of yours’.”

The short laugh that came out of Hardison’s mouth startled him. “See, I know he likes it, he’s just too proud to admit it. I caught him making applesauce in it the other day. Stubborn ass.”

Sophie smiled wide and then started standing up. “Alright, let’s get this party off the floor, it’s not good for your young bones and it certainly isn’t for mine.” She ushered Hardison, who was still feeling groggy and raw, to the couch, placing a blanket over his lap, before going to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. He didn’t even make it until her return, falling asleep without even realizing it. Not even the sound of voices at the door, drifting into his doze, woke him up fully.

“—and I just want to know if he’s alright, is all.”

“He’s fine, we’ll all talk about it later, stop mother-henning.”

“Oh I’M the mother hen, Sophie? You—“

“Shh, you’ll wake him up!”

There was a distinctly Eliot growl. “Well, you make sure he eats that when he does. I made it special.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll keep you updated, how about that? Shoo now.”

The door clicked shut, there was the sound of a pot lid being opened, and the smell of albondigas soup flooded the apartment, warm and spicy. Hardison opened his eyes at the scent, blinking back tears, this time happy ones. It was just nice to be looked after.

[katiebugwrites24]

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.

[swordandquill]

Title: Just a Call Away

Fandom: Leverage

Summary: Four times Eliot answers a call from his teammates, and one time they answer a call from him

Author’s Note: Written for Comfortember. The prompt for the first chapter is anxiety. I may hit some of the other prompts as I work my way through the chapters.

You can go here to read this on AO3 instead.

Eliot was asleep. Actually asleep. Under his nice fluffy down comforter, and he had just washed his sheets, and the bruising on his ribs was finally healed enough for him to sleep on that side without it hurting.

And his phone rang.

He should have left it in the living room, or turned it off, or tossed it out the window, or literally anything besides leaving it sitting on his nightstand. But he hadn’t. So he reached a hand out of his nice warm cocoon of blankets and groped blindly for it, pulling it back under the comforter to put to his ear.

“What?” he slurred, too groggy to even really be surly.

“I need help,” Parker said by way of greeting. 

The team had called him far more times than Eliot cared to keep track of for that exact thing, enough times that it no longer immediately incited panic in him, since it was, more often than not, not actually an emergency, particularly where Hardison and Parker were concerned. “We ran out of cookies” and “we need more blankets for movie night” were not conversations that should have started with “I need help.”

Parker’s voice wavered though, and there was just enough panic in it to have Eliot pushing himself out of bed and looking for the nearest pair of pants.

“Where are you?” Eliot asked.

“Nebraska,” Parker sounded nervous admitting it.

“Nebra…” Eliot dropped back to the edge of his bed heavily, “Parker, I’m in Boston!”

“I know,” something that sounded very much like desperation entered her voice, “I’m lost, and you know military stuff, so you can help.”

Eliot ran a rough hand over his face and tried calm both his frustration and his anxiety. Military stuff, Parker, and lost were not things that should go together, especially when Eliot was half way across the country from her. He could deal with that later though. For now, he needed to try to get her out of whatever mess she had gotten herself into. 

“What’s going on?” he did his best to keep his voice level; Parker could and would shut down on him if she thought he was angry with her.

“I got a tip that there was a stash of stolen World War II paintings hidden in an old cold war bunker in Nebraska,” Parker’s voice came across calmer now that she knew Eliot would help her.

As if that had ever been in questions.

“You’re lost in a cold war bunker?” Eliot couldn’t help the rise in his voice.

“I had the route all planned out, but then I got turned around, and all the halls look the same,” Parker snapped.

“They do that on purpose,” Eliot snapped back.

He could charter a private jet and be there in six hours, maybe five if he threw enough money at the charter company. He could call in a favor with one of his military buddies, and maybe, if he was really lucky, be there in four hours, but favors from military buddies could be complicated, and Parker would be fine for an extra hour or two… probably… maybe.

“See, you know military stuff,” Parker huffed, “tell me how to get out. There are markings on the walls, but I don’t know what any of them mean.”

There was a chance Eliot wasn’t going to know either. He had been in a handful of top secret military bunkers in his life, both with and without permission, but none of them had been cold war era, and while notation and signage was kind of standardized, it did change over time and a certain percentage of secret bases put up signage to intentionally confuse people.

He could at least try to talk Parker through, he guessed. She didn’t seem to be in immediate danger and if he could help her find her way out, that would be faster than her having to wait for him to get there.

“Okay, stay on the line and tell me what you see,” Eliot directed.

“I can’t,” the nervousness was back in Parker’s voice.

“Can’t what?” Eliot scowled, wishing Parker was there for him to scowl at.

“I can’t stay on the line,” Parker clarified, “I had to climb to the top of this big round room to get a signal, but I don’t think there’s any way out through here.”

“You climbed to the top of a missile silo,” Eliot said flatly.

“There’s no missile,” Parker countered, as if that was the problem.

This team was going to be the death of him, he just knew it.

“Okay, you are going to tell me exactly where this bunker is,” Eliot said firmly, “and I’m going to tell you what to look for so you can try and find your way out. You’re going to call me any time you can get a signal, and if I don’t hear from you with in an hour, I’m flying out there to get you.”

He kind of wanted to make the last part a threat, but neither of them would have believed that.

“Okay,” Parker agreed.

She listened carefully as Eliot explained how military notation usually worked, repeating the information back to him when he asked. Then, he had to let her hang up.

It was a very long four hours while Eliot was forced to wait for Parker’s irregular calls. He spent the time pacing restlessly, running through every possible scenario and outcome, all the things that could go wrong, from Parker getting hurt, to getting lost and not being able to reach him to tell him, to finding herself locked behind failsafe doors that didn’t unlock once they had been triggered, to the owners of the stash coming back and catching her or just killing her on the spot.

He almost chartered the flight out twice, but both times he was interrupted by Parker calling, and he hung up on the hold music to answer.

Finally, finally, though, Parker found her way out, and Eliot could hear crickets chirping and the wind rustling in the grass when she called, and he felt like he could breathe again without something trying to crush his chest.

“Thanks, Eliot,” Parker chirped, apparently none the worse for wear. Eliot was feeling much worse for wear and did not appreciate the cheerfulness.

“Now that I know how to get around, I should go back and get the paintings,” Parker continued happily, “there’s supposed to be…”

“No, you will not,” Eliot cut her off with a snarl, “you are going to get on the next flight home, and if I don’t see you in person in the next eight hours, I’m going to take all the diamonds you have stashed under the floor at that warehouse you own on 9th street, sell them for half of what they’re worth, and give all the money to a clown school.”

“I didn’t know you knew about that stash,” Parker said meekly, then added in a somewhat horrified whisper, “clowns have schools?”

That was definitely not the thing to be horrified about here.

“Eight hours, Parker,” Eliot said firmly, then hung up.

He slid to the floor and leaned back against his bed, muscles aching from the constant tension vibrating through him for the last four hours, and pressed his forehead to his knees. He didn’t think Parker really understood just how much trouble she had been in. Some of those underground facilities were huge, and with no easy way to stay in touch with her, it could have been days, if not weeks, until they found her, and that wasn’t even taking into account the possibility of her getting caught, and what the people who caught her would do to her.

He was glad she had called, glad she hadn’t waited until she was starting to suffer from dehydration and hunger, or the guys who the stuff belonged to came back and started shooting, but it was hard to quantify just how much stress his team created for him.

He glanced down at the floor where he had dropped his phone. He was tempted to call Hardison and ask him to track Parker and make sure she really didn’t go back down into the bunker, or Nate, so he would chew Parker out before he took on the job of recovering and returning the stolen art, or even Sophie, just to have someone to rant to. Anyone, just so he didn’t have to sit here alone with his frayed nerves.

Instead, he shoved himself to his feet and went to go spend some quality time with his punching bag. It wasn’t like he was going to get anymore sleep any time soon.

********

Seven hours and forty-three minutes later, Parker appeared next to him so abruptly he almost dropped his spoon into the stew he was stirring.

“Please don’t sell my diamonds,” Parker said quickly.

Eliot contemplated smacking her with the spoon. Not hard, just enough to sting. Maybe a little hard. He could say she had startled him and it was reflex.

Parker hugged him before he could decide, and he was forced to put the spoon down so he didn’t get stew on her shirt.

“Thank you for helping me,” she ducked her head against his shoulder.

Eliot sighed heavily and wrapped his arms around her, “anytime, darling.”

Because he always wanted her to call. No matter what, he wanted her to call him if she got into trouble. He didn’t want to find out about it after it was too late to do anything.

“Also, Sophie said you probably weren’t really going to sell my diamonds, and that you were just worried about me because you care, and I should apologize for scaring you,” Parker squeezed him a little tighter, “so, sorry for scaring you.”

Eliot wasn’t sure if Parker really understood what Sophie had been trying to tell her or was just doing what she thought would make him less upset with her. Either one seemed like progress in a certain way, and at least she was safe now.

He pressed his face into her hair and closed his eyes.

“I really would have sold your diamonds,” he assured her.

“Oh,” Parker frowned into his shoulder, “does that mean you care a lot or that I scared you a lot?”

“Yes,” he grumbled.

“Okay,” Parker was quiet for a moment, her grip still tight around his shoulders, “will you help me burn down all the clown schools?”

“No!” Eliot gave her a quick, hard squeeze, making her squeak, then let her go, “go set the table. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Okay,” Parker grinned at him, then hesitated before kissing him on the cheek, “you scare me sometimes, too.”

Before Eliot could ask, she had turned away to start pulling things out of the cupboards. He stared at her for a minute before turning back to his stew. If anyone was ever going to turn his hair grey, it was going to be that girl, but he was glad to have her home.

[sleepyhollands]

Trying this again!! Congratulations on 200 followers, that's amazing and I'm so happy for you! I'd like to request 20. Stop running, I’m wearing flip flops! with Harrison if possible please!! :)

it was the perfect day. y/n, haz, a sunny blue sky, and burgers on the grill. it was barely summertime and the weather was already wonderful.

“babe!” she heard haz yell from inside the house.

“yeah?”

“you want a soda? or alchohol?” he appeared in the doorway holding two beers in one hand and a sprite bottle in the other.

“mm, i’ll just have whatever you’re having,” y/n smiled.

harrison grinned, setting the sprite down and handing her a beer, taking a sip from his own. he sat down next to his girlfriend on her lounge chair, looking over at the grill every now and again to make sure he didn’t burn anything.

y/n laid her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and inhaling. “haz, that smells so good.”

she felt hardison’s shoulders shake as he chuckled, “’s a good sign then, huh?”

“mhm. don’t burn ’em, though.”

the girl opened her eyes as he stood up from his seat and walked over to the sizzling beef. after flipping a few and seeing the expertly seared meat, he looked over his shoulder at her.

“wouldn’t dream of it, darling. i’m just as good at making burgers as i am at making pancakes.”

y/n giggled, “whatever you say, osterfield.”

he turned to her fully, spatula in hand, “oh, yeah? try making a snarky remark like that when you’re running for your life!” then harrison lunged at the younger girl with the tool, making her yelp as she dodged his attempt to poke her with it. but he tried again, and began chasing her around the patio.

“haz!” y/n shrieked, “not fair! you’ve got sneakers on!”

harrison only laughed, “how is that not fair, sweetheart?” he took another jab at her with the spatula.

“har- ah! stop running, i’m wearing flip flops!” y/n was beginning to trip over her own feet, but her boyfriend just threw the spatula onto the table and resumed chasing her, this time making grabby-hands at her. finally, he caught up, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to his chest, making her squeal.

“harrison! let me go—”

“not until you admit that i make the best burgers ever.”

“ugh, fine! fine, yes, your food isn’t terrible, now let go of me.”

haz laughed again, releasing y/n from his hold and sitting her in a chair. then he served her a burger which she eyed skeptically just to annoy him, even though it looked amazing.

he watched as she took the first bite, quickly followed by another, and another, until soon there was nothing left.

harrison raised his eyebrows at her, biting back a grin. “so...?”

“shut up,” y/n mumbled, before getting herself another one. he just chuckled to himself, also getting up to go grab one for himself.

the pair spent the whole afternoon relaxing in each other’s company, sunshine warming their skin until it set on the horizon, and they even watched that together, too, up on the roof in a cocoon of blankets. today was a perfect day.

[allebooklover]

Hardison and Parker and Elliot wanted a family, while Sophie and Nate wanted a team. Sophie was willing to play along (and even got attached), while Nate was just, he plain didnt want to because to lose family again would crack him into pieces especially in such risky circumstances (including the above and tag reasoning) and these combined makes it plausible that the reason why Nate shuts down Hardison so badly is because Hardison is trying to get the dynamic Nate is afraid of (and combined with the above and tags reasoning). It’s fascinating.

(Seriously read the tags, anything before my thoughts is takiki16 and it’s good)

I have so many feels about Hardison. Hardison, who thought “it was kind of cool being on the same side” when nobody else would admit it. Who painted that big, ugly picture as a joke, but carted it around everywhere they ended up moving like a family heirloom.  Who worked so hard to build them an office that functioned like a home everywhere that they went - bought a building, bought an entire fucking brewery  (and ran the damn thing, with fair hiring practices and, after a few missteps, fairly good beer no matter what Eliot says) to give them space to work. Who kept Nate’s secrets.

I think what chafes me most about the show is how much Hardison gave and gave and gave for that crew, and how much Nate took without ever giving back. Eliot was mean the way a big brother snaps or a kid pulls their crush’s pigtails (I like to think somewhere in between). Nate was cruel in his dismissiveness and irrational expectations, the way he shut down Hardison every time he showed too much pride - like a kid showing off and hoping to be praised by dad and getting chewed out instead. Because he was just trying to build a family all along. I think he got a taste of that, growing up, was lucky enough to stumble into his Nana’s care - but he never had a normal family, and he was always the odd man out at school, the nerd, the kid who finished his work before the rest of the class had even written the names on the page and acted out, started stealing, because he was just so damn bored. Kids can be so cruel and he found his validation online, sometimes through games and sometimes through the people who hired him to steal information or money. 

Still, better than any of them anymore, Hardison is the one who knows what family actually looks like. Eliot drowned the man who had a normal family in blood a decade or more ago. Nate did his best to forget when he lost his own. Parker never had one. Sophie won’t tell, but girls like her don’t come out of good places. Hardison saw it and for a little while he had it, unconventional but all his. He’s just trying to create a new one for himself by giving them everything he can: his money, his designer homes, his grocery delivery orders with everyone’s favorites (just as long as Eliot cooks it), his carefully crafted briefings, his mind - the smartest one anyone of them has ever known. I always feel like he didn’t really succeed until Nate and Sophie left. Nate’s crew, Hardison’s family.

[somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds]

Leverage of Tomorrow!

Here’s some cracky goodness for @marywisdom‘s birthday today! Hope you enjoy this mess, it was fun to write!

“You’re all wrong,” Mick declared, setting down his beer bottle and fixing the team with a look. “You’re going about getting the spear back the wrong way.”

Sara folded her arms and looked back at him, nodding for him to continue. “Then what do you suggest we do, Mick?”

Mick grinned, leaning forward in his chair. “Fight fire with fire.” He ignored the eye rolls and muttered comments. He knew he was right. “Hey, let me finish, ‘cause I don’t hear anyone else coming up with the good ideas. So listen to me, for once.”

He cleared his throat and continued. “The Legion is just a bunch of liars and thieves, and sadly, I’m the only liar and thief here, and I can’t do it all by myself. The only way you’re gonna get that spear is to steal it back. But you guys suck at being the bad guys.”

“So, again,” Sarah said, entertaining his motion for the moment, “What do you suggest we do?”

Mick stood up, and nodded over to where Ray was sitting in his chair. “Haircut, you’re with me. We’re heading out to Seattle, early 2000’s.”

“Sure!” Ray said, scrambling to his feet, always eager to help. “But, uh, why?”

Mick smiled. “I’m gonna find some people who actually know how to get shit done.”

When Sophie Deveraux opened her team's office door after the knock, she wasn’t necessarily expecting to see two men standing there, tall enough to tower over her, but she plastered on a winning smile and decided to play along.

“Can I help you two gentlemen? Do you have an appointment?” she asked. The one with the puppy-dog eyes brightened. Naïve, she noted, probably rich. Familiar face, too.

“Oh!” he said, smiling along. “We’d like to speak to an Eliot Spencer, please.”

The other man sighed, exasperated, but Sophie didn’t let anything register on her face that she didn’t want to show. Instead, she blinked and appeared slightly confused.

“I’m sorry, there’s no Eliot Spencer here,” she said. Mick scoffed out a laugh.

“Relax, we’re friends.”

Sophie finally let her expression dim. “That’s not really as comforting an expression as you may think it is.” She turned her head over her shoulder and said, very decidedly, “Eliot! a...friend of yours and his companion are here to see you.”

“Who is - I’m not here!” a voice yelled back. Mick stepped aside from Sophie and right through the doorway, not waiting to be invited in. Ray opened his mouth to apologize when Mick yelled back:

“Hey, Spencer, how’s that burn doing?”

Immediately the door to the kitchenette opened and Eliot came out, grinning. “Hot damn, how you doin’, Rory?”

Mick broke out into a grin and shook his hand, pulling him in and they shared a hug for approximately a nanosecond before pulling away. Ray was still a little stunned but Sophie nodded to him and he stepped inside. “Um, what - ”

“Haircut, Spencer,” Mick said as an introduction, turning back to catch back up with Eliot.

“My name - my name is Ray. Ray Palmer,” Ray stuttered. Sophie turned to him with a surprised look.

“You - you aren’t related to a Sidney Palmer, are you?” she asked.

“Unfortunately yes.”

“Oh,” she said, pursing her lips. “I - may have lifted a few things from him some years back. Just a few small diamonds, I was searching to find a piece of myself for a role - ”

“...What?”

Leaving Ray to Sophie for the moment, Mick turned back to Eliot. “Thought you weren’t a team player.”

“Thought the same about you,” Mick fired back, leaning back on the doorframe, shaking his head to get the hair out of his face. “So, what’s the job?”

“Who says I didn’t just miss you?” Mick joked.

“Yeah, I’m a real catch, Rory. But you got a job for us, don’t you?”

Mick grinned, full of teeth. “Yeah. You guys ever steal...time?”

Hardison was actually going to pass out from sheer joy.

Time. Travel.

Honest-to-god time travel. Interdimensional travel. Literal, actual superpowers. He was in heaven, and the only thing that would make this better was playing around with technology from a hundred years into the future. Amazingly, he was able to find a plug to connect his computer not on the Waverider and started trying to work his way into the system.

But he almost had a heart attack when he heard a chipper, computerized voice start talking directly to him.

“Can I assist you, Mr. Hardison?”

“Uhhhh,” he stuttered, looking around him frantically for the source of the voice. “Maybe. Who - who are you?”

“I’m Gideon. I’m the captain’s personal assistant,” the voice declared. “And I find your attempt at hacking into my servers quite amusing.”

“Uh, sorry, I didn’t - I didn’t mean to, uh, offend you or nothing. I mean, I’m just really into all of-” he gestured around him, wondering if she could see him “-this.”

“If you are curious, you could simply ask, Mr. Hardison, instead of hacking into the softare without permission.”

“I - I apoloize,” Hardison siad, sitting back odwn on his chair. “Could you tell me aobut this ship and, uh, all the tech stuff?”

“What in particular?”

Hardison grinned outright. “Everything.”

Parker narrowed her eyes from where she was watching in the doorframe before walking away, running to catch up with Eliot and jump onto his back. “Eliot!”

The man in question grunted, but adjusted her position so it was easier for him to support her. “Jesus, Parker, we’ve talked about this: I need a five-second warning when you do this.”

“You’ll catch me anyway,” she said back, then turned back to the pressing subject at hand. “Eliot, Hardison found a computer that can talk. What does he need us for, now?”

“Parker,” Eliot soothed. “Don’t worry. He needs us. Please - please don’t be jealous of an AI.”

“Fine,” Parker said, pouting as she held on tighter. “Where are you going?”

“Sparring off with Sara,” Eliot said, hoisting her up a little higher as he walked on down the hallway. “Do you think I’ll win?”

“Hmm,” Parker thought, resting her head on his shoulder. “First round doesn't count. I’ll bet afterwards.”

Team Leverage took up one side of the flight deck, and the Legends took up the other half.

“I can't believe you recruited thieves to help us,” Martin said to Mick with an eyeroll. Parker blinked at him for a few minutes, then turned to Sophie.

“Was that the insult?” she said in a stage whisper. “Because - because we are thieves. I don’t get it.”

“Do you have his wallet?” Sophie asked back, a slight smile pulling at her lips. Parker nodded.

“I’ve lifted a wallet, a knife, a couple tools, a Rolex, and a bag of Fritos.”

Sophie gave her a small high-five and then they turned their attention back to the briefing Sara Lance was giving.

“The main heads of the Legion are Eobard Thawne, Damien Darhk, and Malcolm Merlyn.”

Eliot’s head snapped up, then grimaced from where Sara had gotten him good at the base of his neck. “Did you say Malcolm Merlyn?”

Sara raised an eyebrow at him, then crossed her arms, hissing at the sting at her shoulder.

(The sparring match had been good for both of them, not having to hold back. But maybe they should have waited to do it until after the con was completed.)

“Do you know him?” she asked dryly.

“Seriously, Merlyn?” Eliot bit out, spitting the blood out of his mouth as his foot remained firmly on Merlyn’s neck, causing him to choke out a curse. “You - you run the goddamn Legion of Assassins, and you sent me some third-rate ones. I deserve better than that.”

Merlyn growled and tried to get up, but Eliot just added more pressure as he caught his breath.

“If - if I’m not honest, you aren't gonna improve.”

Eliot blinked. “Maybe.”

Nate Ford finally spoke up, addressing his team. “Alright guys, I have a plan. But I need to know how to knock out a guy with superspeed. Multiple times.”

Mick cleared his throat after swallowing his beer. “We’ve got these, uh, things that-”

“We are not lending some thieves that you just happen to know borrow any of the Waverider-” Martin’s exasperated interruption was cut off when he caught sight of Eliot’s hard glare.

“‘Scuse me,” Eliot said, his tone a few shades short of a snarl. “But your teammate was speaking.”

“Well, I-”

“Isn’t he a part of this here team? Why don’t y’all shut your mouths for a second and let the man talk?” Eliot snapped, and he leaned back against the wall of the Waverider and nodded to Mick. “Keep talking.”

Mick nodded back. “Thanks. We’ve got these things that can knock you out with a flash or something.”

“Does it look like this?” Parker asked, holding up the device in question. The entire Legends crew stared at her in disbelief.

“We keep those in our rooms, under lock and key.”

Parker shrugged, handing it over to Nate. “They were bad locks, what can I say?” she said innocently, flashing a grin at Mick, who returned it.

Nate cleared his throat, addressing his team again. “Alright, plan, plan. I think we’re going to go with a time warp.”

The Leverage crew nodded while the Legends looked confused. Nate only continued. “Okay, Sophie, I’m thinking Russian.”

Sophie’s eyes lit up. “Of course, Nate, nothing screams ‘seductive femme fatale’ like a well done Russian accent. There was this one time in Switzerland-”

“Yes, thank you, Sophie, but we need to continue,” Nate said, cutting her off. She gave him a narrow-eyed glare that meant that he would be getting an earful later that night. “Now, Hardison-”

“Comms are all set up,” Hardison announced, tapping away on his laptop. “We should have a standard connection, and I’ve set up all our fake IDs, except for Eliot, ‘cause, well, one of them already knows you.”

Eliot nods, surveying the room again with narrowed eyes, daring anyone to interrupt. No one did.

“...And if at any point we need to contact anyone on board,” Nate finishs, directing this point to the Legends. “We’ll call Mick.”

“But-”

Eliot turned up the glare and Nate Heywood went silent. Nate Ford cracked his knuckles and sighed. “Yeah, should only take us about four days.”

“Four days? We’ve been tracking them for months,” Jax said in disbelief. “You can’t just-”

“Yeah, you guys did all the surveillance work, thanks. Shouldn’t be too bad.”

The Legends all silently disagreed.

Four days later

Eliot came hustling back onto the Waverider, tossing the Spear of Destiny onto the floor and straightening out his neck, ignoring the bruises and dried blood on his face and arms. “Here you go.”

Martin actually dropped his glass on the ground and shattered it. Everyone’s jaw dropped as the rest of the Leverage crew, sans Parker, climbed back onto the Waverider. Nate stretched his neck as well, letting out a sigh.

“That was fun, got your spear back.”

Jax broke the ice first. “How - how did you-”

“Oh, it was just marvelous,” Sophie drawled as she came up behind Nate. “Time loop scheme, of course.”

“Classic,” Mick said, raising his beer bottle in celebration. The other Legends just looked confused. Nate rolled his eyes.

“Sophie, they’re not criminals, they don’t know the time-loop con.”

Hardison came up behind them, leaning against one of the chairs. “Basically, it’s a Groundhog Day situation. Make the mark think they’re stuck living the same day over and over.”

“Took four tries,” Nate yawned, itching for a drink. “Honestly, I thought it would have taken longer, Thawne looked like he was going to crap his pants when he thought they broke time.”

“And poor Damien, I had to spill his coffee on his suit over four times. Must have a second-degree burn right now,” Sophie sighed, blowing her hair out of her face. The Legends were still too stunned to say anything. Hardison suddenly straightened up.

“Oh, almost forgot, we got somethin’ else,” he grinned, then called over his shoulder. “Hey, Parker, you coming or what?”

“Here!” Parker squealed, rushing onto the Waverider. And she was dragging someone behind her...someone who looked pissed off, yet amused...

“Leonard?” Sara screeched in disbelief, and everyone’s jaws hit the floor again while Mick spit his beer out onto the floor. “You-”

“Did everyone miss me?” he drawled, letting Parker pull him all the way to the center of the room.

“How - how -”

“I stole him!” Parker grinned. “I mean, I stole a whole orphanage once and got them all ice cream, but Len was just there. You were - you tell them,” she directed to Len, and he grinned back at her.

“Yeah, so when the Oculus blew I kind of got sucked into the time stream and it just so happened that the Legion pulled me out first. Thanks for looking, by the way. How do you think the Legion came up with half their plans, they had me on background duty. Armchair planning. The worst,” he half-groaned, rolling his eyes for effect, before smiling again. “And now I’m back, I hope you still have room,” he said, directing a short glare over to where Nate and Amaya were standing, and they shifted uncomfortably.

Len noted this with satisfaction and walked right over to Mick, who had his arms folded and his eyes narrowed. Len tried the smooth smile to be annoying. “Miss me?”

“That was goddamn stupid, you know that?” Mick snapped, referring to the whole affair at the Oculus. Before Len could respond, Mick was already talking again: “You do that again, I’ll kill you myself. They gave your room away.”

Len winked. “Nice to know you missed me. And good thing I was sleeping in yours anyway, then.”

There was a choking noise from behind them, it sounded like either Ray or Martin. Len was sure he heard Sara giving a thumbs-up.

“Well, our work here is done,” Nate announced to his crew, and they all said their goodbyes the Leverage team, and walked off the Waverider. All was well.

“...Parker, did you steal a billionaire’s wallet?”

“He doesn’t NEED it, Eliot, he’s a billionaire. He could buy a billion wallets.”

[supernaturalxyou]

Halfway Gone

Summary: a somewhat detailed request for readerxdean wherein Dean just can’t seem to figure out his feelings for the reader (and manages to kind of look like an ass in the process)

Warnings: some mentions of crusty ol’ dried blood, but otherwise none <3

There will be a Part 2 if y’ all would like :)

__________________________________________________________

"You can stay with us for as long as you like," Dean said, and Sam nodded beside him.

His face was calm, a little rugged, a little too well-defined, but kind. You tugged at the blanket hanging around your shoulders, thankful for its warmth, and bobbed your head along with the brothers. The purr of the engine was enough of a lullaby, enough to sing you into a calm, dreamless sleep.

*

And at first, no one noticed.

Dean's eyes flickered to the Impala's rear-view mirror every now and then, although there were no cars on the flat expanse behind you. Your eyelashes fluttered in your sleep, and he couldn't help but notice the curve of your jaw, the faint ghost of a dimple at the corner of your mouth; the way your cheeks were faintly flushed and smeared with grime sparked something that combusted all the air in his lungs.

Sam coughed slightly as the Impala veered dangerously close to the middle of the road, and Dean was forced to look away.

Sam turned to look at his brother, frowning slightly, but Dean shrugged.

"'S been a long day," he said. "And Y/N sure put up one hell of a fight back there."

Sam couldn't argue. He leaned back in his seat.

"A hunter in the making?" Sam asked.

Dean's lips pinched together, and he looked back at you in the mirror.

"Could be."

*

You turned out to be a great hunter, with a little training. Soon enough, you were riding with the Winchesters on all of their hunts; the three of you quickly became hard pressed to find a case that was worthy of your newfound skills.

You'd grown accustomed to your new life, despite its less than welcoming start. After six months with the brothers, you'd even begun to seek out monsters all of your own.

Research in hand, you padded down the hallway of the bunker towards the kitchen. You had a bad feeling that some vamps were feeding in your own little adoptive town, with four recent deaths in the past three days.

You were pleased to see that Sam and Dean were sitting at the kitchen table when you entered, and you promptly dropped your stack of papers onto the food-covered surface.

"New case, I think," you said easily, smiling. "Wanted to know what you guys thought."

Sam reached for your research and so you focused on him, missing the fact that Dean was frozen mid-sip-of-coffee as he peeked at you over his cup.

The younger Winchester flicked through your work, nodding. "I was actually going to bring this up. You think it's a nest?"

You pushed your hair back from your face and shrugged, though you were pleased he agreed. "Maybe. Either way, one vamp or a few, they don't seem too smart, huh?"

Sam smirked along with you and set your papers down. Dean, forgetting to swallow the coffee in his mouth, tried to return your smile; he turned and stood up in the next second, his chair squealing against the linoleum, so that you missed the small leaking of fluid from his mouth.

He wandered over to the sink, and you looked at Sam quizzically. Since you'd met Dean, he'd never said much to you, at least not as much as Sam did. Sam shrugged at your look, but you frowned.

"Um, okay. Well, I'm going to go get ready," you said abruptly. Sam shot you a small, sympathetic smile as you stood to leave, one that you greatly appreciated, before it was all you could do not to turn heel and run from the kitchen.

Once you were gone, Sam stood up, approaching his brother looming over the sink.

"Are you all right?" it was more of a demand than a question. "What the hell was that?"

Dean stared at the dull silver drain, though he didn't really see it. He thought about the way your hair always looked so unbearably, effortlessly shiny in the morning, and how you were always smiling, even when you were talking about slaying a nest of vamps.

"Got choked up," Dean replied hastily, and followed you out of the kitchen.

*

"Agent Spencer," Dean flipped his badge out towards the cop and snapped it back up again before he could get a closer look. "That's my partner Agent Hardison, and our rookie Agent Parker." You glared at Dean. Rookie? "We're here to see the crime scene."

"It's a few days old by now," the sergeant furrowed an eyebrow. "Not sure what you'll be able to get from it."

"Right, well, thank you for bringing us anyway, Sergeant. I think we can take it from here." Sam's smooth modesty unfurled the officer's brow, despite Dean's pushing him towards the exit. Sam rolled his eyes as Dean slammed the door shut behind the sergeant.

"Rookie, Dean?" You asked, when the coast was clear. "What the--"

"Look," Dean frowned as Sam tossed him a pair of rubber gloves. "Agents don't travel in threes. And you're the newbie. Makes sense."

Without looking at you, he turned towards the living room. "What are we looking for?"

"We need to figure out why they chose to kill this couple, in this house," Sam said. "Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll have left something behind."

You nodded, bumping Dean as you strode past him into the living room. You felt his eyes on the back of your neck, but the dried blood-soaked rug demanded your attention. Carefully, you walked over and bent down beside the last trace of the massacre, ignoring the churn in your gut at the smell of rotten rust.

The brothers moved behind you: Sam scuffled through drawers, looked under the couches; Dean turned on his heel and headed upstairs. You stared at the rug.

"How long has it been, Sam?"

"Since?"

"Since these guys were killed? A few days, right?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

Sam came to stand beside you. He stared at the bloody rug.

You blinked. "Why is there still all this blood on the rug, but none around it?"

You and Sam looked at the spotlessly clean floors, despite the horrific blood splatter on the once fluffy white carpet.

"They cleaned up," Sam said. You could almost hear the pieces clicking into place in his mind. "But they--"

"--didn't move the rug," you finished.

In one too-big step, he was on the other side of the living room.

"Help me drag it over," he said. Together, you pushed the bloody mess so that the carpet rested in a pile up against the wall. You weren't surprised that the rug's more coarse underbelly didn't look much better.

The floor beneath it was stained with residual dried blood, and flecked with grime, as though someone had deliberately worn new shoes and kicked at the floor until it was properly scuffed. Closer to you, a tiny piece of paper was stuck to the floor.

As you reached down to pick it up, Dean stomped back into the living room.

"Rest of the house is clear," he said. "What's that?"

Your eyes met - just for a second - and you wanted to feel relieved. You wanted to think that he was, finally, acknowledging you; you wanted something, something to give you a sign that you weren't just the rookie, that you weren't the thing that made Dean tense or quiet or half of what you knew he was when you weren't around.

"Looks like a business card," you held it out towards him, but Sam snatched it out of your hand.

"It's for some sort of hotel," he said. "But it could be nothing."

"Research time?" You smiled; Sam nodded.

Dean was at the door first. He held it open for you and Sam.

"Nice job, rookie," he said as you passed, and the smile dried on your face like the browned blood on the fluffy white rug.

*

"Get this," Sam said. "So that business card was for a hotel, but the place went out of business last year. The buyers have been asking for way too much for the building, so it's been vacant ever since. Could be where the vamps are hiding out."

"We still don't know why they chose to kill that couple, though," you said.

Sam nodded. "I've been thinking--"

"Doesn't really matter, does it?" Dean asked. "We know where the fanged wonders are, so I say we go over there and take them out."

"We might know where they are," you said. "And it's almost dark. It would be a lot easier if we hit them tomorrow, you know, while the sun's up."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Sam quipped. He closed his laptop and stood up.

Dean stared at his brother. "We can take 'em. Hell, Y/N could probably take them out all on her own with all the crap they've been up to."

You frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Dean's eyes flicked to you, and then the floor. "I just mean that--"

"Well, I guess if even I could take 'em, what's the point of waiting?" You stood up, too. "What the hell. Let's go."

"Y/N," Sam started, but you shook your head.

"I'll go load the car," you said. Without waiting for Sam's rebuttal, you huffed and left the room.

Sam turned to Dean, who only had eyes for your retreating figure.

"You need to sort out your crap with Y/N, Dean," Sam said. "You won't look at her until she's halfway gone. I don't know what the hell happened, but you need to figure it out before she decides to be reckless all on her own."

Dean swallowed hard and sighed as Sam followed you out.