#undercover eliot au

[onyxbird]

Hello! I saw a post of yours saying you have a Leverage Hell AU series on Ao3. Any chance I can get the link to that? Thanks!

☠️ Warning ☠️: Consumption of Hell AU may result in Leverage brainrot and compulsions to write angsty fic. Experts* recommend against consumption of large doses of this AU in a short period of time, particularly for new users who do not know how they will be affected. Certain lines in this AU have been identified by the state of the comments section to be hazardous to human health. Writing while under the influence of Hell AU may pose a risk of spreading this contagion to others.

Please consume responsibly.

We Have Never Had a Hitter (That Wasn't Actually Moreau's)

*@darkfinch

[lawonsie]

As much as we all enjoy reading fanfiction of the Worst AU in which Eliot has worked for Moreau the entire time, I do love how the reveal of Eliot's history with Moreau isn't made a giant thing for the team in the actual show. How they talk it out once and don't make hours of drama out of it. How the integrity of the team isn't really seriously threatened. They still all trust Eliot. He still trusts all of them. And their teamwork is still on top of their game. I really like that about Leverage, no supposed 'low point for several episodes' drama until they finally get back together. They are a family at this point and it will take much much more to break them apart.

... still love all the hurt/comfort fics about what must have been discussed off screen though.

[onyxbird]

Me, reaching this post after having read today's AO3 emails and Tumblr notes: 😬 "Yep, they sure did binge that AU."

Glad that you... uh......... whatever people do with this AU instead of enjoying it. 😉

Hello I have binged the entire Undercover Eliot AU tag in a little over 6 hrs and I’m now working my way through the attached fics and I am NOT OKAY PLEASE SEND HELP

It was fantastic and my brain chemistry is permanently altered so thank you for that

🩵💜🩵💜

!!! i'm SO GLAD that you enjoyed it but also i really do feel like i made a PSA like "hey guys don't eat 9 bars of chocolate in a row it's bad for you to eat 9 bars of chocolate in a row actually" and now people are lining up outside my door to tell me v earnestly how much they loved eating the 9 bars of chocolate in a row, but did i know it gives you tummy aches? did i know it irreversibly changes your gut microbiome? send help? thank you for the chocolate bars i ate 9 of them in a row?

lkjghlffhjgdh i'm very glad you're having fun though the fics are SO GOOD, enjoy <3

[haloburns]

the librarians is just magical leverage, change my mind

[inell]

Possibly a dumb question but I saw you reblog a few leverage things recently and you're one of my favorite 9-1-1 writers so I was wondering what you think a 911 Leverage Fusion AU could look like if you were to think about it because their two of my favorite shows

Goodness! Thank you for the compliment. I thought about this during my commute home from work, and this is what I came up with.

We use season 7 of 911. Councilwoman Ortiz is obviously dirty, having used her power to force Gerrard into the 118, and to remove Mara from HenRen’s custody as well as revoking their foster status. That’s all canon.

We pick up with Toni, Hen’s mom, reaching out to these nice people she met when she lived in Portland years and years ago. They ran a gastropub but she also knew about their other business because Alec was a sweetheart who chatted way too much. She contacts the new Leverage HQ in New Orleans looking for Hardison, and she gets Parker. Who is very interested when she hears about the kid being removed and she shares it with the others, research is done, and, because it’s 911 (which tends to be racially cliche), Ortiz ties into the cartel subplot (her son died from illegal drugs, after all, and there’s also the people trafficking subplot that could be linked).

Cut to Leverage crew showing up in LA and meeting Toni, who hasn’t told Hen about her interference. Parker and Eliot fight over who gets to go undercover at the firehouse, because they need to get rid of Gerrard and figure out his connection to Ortiz. Eliot wins, obviously, simply by asking Parker to put on full gear and carry a 200lb weight.

Parker is Not Happy, but Eliot goes undercover as a new firefighter. He and Eddie hit it off with the whole military slash guilt slash PTSD slash dislike of firearms thing, and Buck is suspicious because they don’t have an opening for another member on their team and also why is this guy being so friendly with Eddie and who cares if he’s from Oklahoma which is next to Texas and they bond over TexMex and country music and Eliot tells Eddie he needs to keep his dog on a leash before it gets bit, and Buck really really hates this new guy who oddly has the same name as a character on Star Trek, according to Chim.

Meanwhile, Breana is sent to work at the city council as an intern who is assigned to Ortiz, while Sophie and Harry work on a cover to get closer to the whole drug slash trafficking thing, and Hardison is working on a project in Cairo but FaceTimes Toni and Parker a few times (showing off his muscles that he’s happened to get while geeking out and not because there’s a new movie role he’s filming in RL), and Parker annoys Eliot by being in his ear every shift, listening to everything and watching what he sees through his nifty camera lenses.

Parker loves Chimney, thinks he’s hilarious, and she doesn’t know why Eliot won’t tell Chim the dad jokes she keeps repeating in his earpiece because she wants to know if Chim thinks she’s funny. She’s also working on the whole foster revocation situation with help from Hardison, but bugging Eliot is a lot more fun. She especially likes to make popcorn for the times when he’s chilling in the loft with his new BFF and said BFF’s BFF. She might be neurodivergent, but she’s not even as fucked up as Buck and Eddie and their whole thing. Breana shares the popcorn when she isn’t working for free and trying to suck up to Ortiz.

In the end, they manage to catch Ortiz, the person on the foster system that did her dirty work, the main cartel players connected to her, and they link Gerrard to them. They give Toni the money they got from the deal, which she explains to Hen and Karen as a lucky lotto win when she gives it to them for Mara and Denny. Eliot quits the 118, but not before locking Buck and Eddie up in the supply closet and telling them work out their UST, damn it, and Bobby comes back as Captain.

[jamiesfootball]

was really expecting that leverage au idea to go a different direction & was honestly pleasantly surprised by the jamie + zava positioning. but i thought i'd share what i thought was going to happen!

roy's getting old, so the rest of the current team is trying to find sort of an apprentice for him to train to be their new hitter and then he can eventually take over for ted as mastermind when ted magically gets suspicion off of him and can go back home to be with henry.

they find jamie. and they're like this guy is perfect. he's got that doggedness that you have roy. you could kill him and he'd still get up and kick your ass. he's perfect. and roy's like no he's a fucking prick. he can't do this job, he's only good for the old shit i was doing. he doesn't fit with this team, he's too volatile and he doesn't think with his heart. so they let him go on his not-so-merry way, but ted and beard keep an eye on him and keeley also keeps an entirely separate, secret third eye on him.

[nebulous in between times]

they get jamie back and roy starts training him, and while roy is still not fully warmed up to him is when jamie almost ruins a job by taking time out to Solve some random kid's Problem dad.

idk who would be hacker in this case though. but nate (shelley) is sterling lol.

*Griiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiins*

See yes yes- I also began this idea thinking like, well if Roy is the Eliot stand in (and obviously like who else would he be), then Jamie would make the perfect sense as the Quinn. The up-and-comer bruiser who thinks he can take on The Roy Kent. He does well when he catches Roy off guard at first but then we have the iconic Quinn line-

“Why won’t you go down?!”

So yes I started there but then it occurred to me: the sass, the clothing, the obnoxious quality to talk at length, the younger guy who looks at Roy in a ‘no really are you an antique?” way. The one who can’t believe the cops are using cassette tapes for surveillance. The one who is casually charming and makes friends and enemies whenever he’s undercover. The one who lied about stealing Roy’s sandwich and feels no shame (it was a damn good sandwich).

(“D-E-D dead baby.” “D-e-a-d.” “I know how it’s spelled. I can hack a bank, I can spell ‘dead.’”)

It’s Jamie.

But the BUTTER ON THE BREAD THE THING THAT SEALED THE DEAL FOR ME IS THAT THIS MEANS JAMIE WOULD GET TO RUN THE BRIEFINGS. IN THAT ACCENT. WITH HIS UNIQUE BRAND OF TALKING.

“Now our client’s ex is this posh twat named Danthony. He’s worth eleventy billion dollars and his taste in classic cars is a fucking joke. The good news is his shell companies are messier than Roy’s chest hair, so it wan’t hard to find where he stashed the money. I also found some embarrassing footage from when he auditioned for Love Island *plays video* it was not fire.”

[westiec]

made up fic titles:

Fast Forward

Butterscotch

If I Should Lose My Head

Fast Forward

Attempted time travel fix-it where the time traveler WILDLY overshoots. Gu Xiang from an even worse AU becomes Luo Fumeng, maybe? 🤔 I'd have to workshop it, but that could be interesting.

Butterscotch

Leverage fic where they've gotta go undercover at a fancy restaurant, and Eliot cannot be seen because the mark knows him, so it's pâtissier Parker and sommelier Hardison, and Eliot just dying on the comms the whole time.

If I Should Lose My Head

I dunno what the plot is, but this is a Sleepy Hollow case fic in an AU where none of the crap after season one happened but Ichabod somehow gets framed for murder.

[hook-on-fandoms]

Hardison and Wonder Woman

I saw an article saying that Aldis Hodge should turn his eyes to Mr. Terrific and I can’t help but thinking of an AU (which of course would lead to a different Mr. Terrific) of:

Wonder Woman was out undercover helping save people and get information in a less stable part of the world where being Wonder Woman would harm her info gathering. While gaining such info she ran into a group that was smuggling people at high risk to safety and she joined them. They got to a point where she thought they were trapped and was about to reveal herself when one of the guys got on the phone to call someone. She asked who he was calling and he started answering that’s before he heard what the person on the other side said and exclaimed TERRIFIC. The person on the other end of the phone led them to a secret exit and they got out with her cover in tact and everyone alive.

She was later introduced to the guy but before his name could be said she went up to him  and said it’s nice to meet you Mr. Terrific while shaking his hand and smiling.

She agreed to do more jobs with this group to get an understanding if they were outside the law good guys in a place the law wasn’t always good or exploiting the people they saved. After all, even if she has limitations on what she can do as a Justice League member she knows the law isn’t always just. Plus her alias doesn’t have such limitations. She kept the name Mr. Terrific as a nickname for him

After a while she saw him in the field once or twice and was impressed with how he handled himself and the tech that could just take control of things.

On one such job one of her supervillains was in the area and started to attack. He saw a way to temporarily capture them using his tech to take over certain tech in the area and make a cage so sent the rest of the group out while he did so. They left while he got to work but she stayed and made a choice. She revealed herself as Wonder Woman to him and they worked together to stop the guy.

There was a VERY interesting post op talk with the two of them after that. 

That happened a couple more times and when she was asked who she was working with she’d say Mr. Terrific.

Some stuff happened with the watchtower and she volunteered him to fix it. Hardison of course asks how he was cleared so fast and Diana reveals she put him in the Justice League files a bit after she revealed herself to him as a member.

Hardison is now fully terrified on how to explain to Parker and Eliot about how he accidentally joined the Justice League. He doesn’t know what scares him more, Eliot finding out he has been fighting supervillains or Parker and Eliot finding out he has been fighting supervillains without them.

He is allowed a room that he can call them from that makes it look like he is in normal space. He works with Diana on getting his team a “mission” to save him from space to sneak them onto the watchtower. At which time everything will be revealed. Her only ask in return is that Eliot cooks something because Hardison won’t stop comparing the food to Eliot’s and now she must know.

[yoyomarules]

@pebblesrus @darkfinch your posts got me thinking about Eliot bringing Hardison to the pool in Hell AU and why he’d bring someone in this scenario and uh. What if he brings him because Moreau orders him to.

He’s kind of decided, okay. The team are walking into a death trap, but maybe he can turn this around for them, be their spy on the inside instead of Moreau’s. Maybe, just maybe, he can navigate this thing without them ever learning the truth about him. When Moreau calls him to give him the address of a hotel and tells him to be there, he thinks, what if I just took him out there and then?

Except then Damien says, ‘Oh, and bring one of your friends along.’

Eliot’s heart lurches. ‘What?’

‘One of your little band of merry men,’ Damien says impatiently. ‘Bring one of them along with you.’

Eliot says, with a weak laugh, ‘Well, that’d give the game away pretty fast, wouldn’t it?’

‘A three-year head start and half a dozen armed men ought to give us the advantage, don’t you think?’ Damien’s voice is amused. ‘I think it’s time they understood what a dangerous game they’re playing.’

Eliot swallows. Best case scenario, any hope he has of keeping the truth from them is shot. Worst case—

‘The only question is which one,’ Damien’s saying. ‘Ford’s the reason I sent you to watch them in the first place, of course. Devereaux and Parker are both legends; I’d be curious to see what all the fuss is about.’

Eliot shuts his eyes, because Damien knows all about the team. Eliot’s dutifully fed him information—ammunition—on all of them, and he knows what’s about to happen before Damien says it.

‘But no. Bring Hardison. He sounds very entertaining.’

Eliot grips the phone so hard it might snap in his hand. ‘I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,’ he says, willing his voice to stay steady. ‘I’d rather have ’em not know anything’s amiss.’

‘Oh, Eliot,’ Damien sighs. ‘You worry too much. But, ah,’ and Eliot knows the sound of an incoming threat when he hears it, ‘if it’s such an inconvenience, perhaps I can send some people to meet all four of them.’

Stomach in free fall, Eliot says, ‘No. No inconvenience. We’ll be there.’

[havendance]

Man as a Living Weapon

Ao3

Fandom: Leverage

Written for the terribly evil ‘Eliot was working for Damien Morea the whole time’ AU that @darkfinch​ spawned. As promised, here are actual words written for it. Covers seasons 1 and 2.

Summary:

"I worked for Damien Moreau. You really think I did anything he didn't tell me to do?"

Eliot knew he was going to be working for Damien Moreau until the day he died; he was five bloody years into it when Dubenich started looking into the best of the best and Damien decided he wanted in.

Or: The one where Eliot was working for Damien the entire time and Eliot Spencer was the biggest con of them all.

Excerpt:

It started like this: it was supposed to be one job only, no encores. Damien had heard the rumors, everything made its way to him eventually. He’d heard that Ford was out of the game, that someone was looking to drag him back in. That someone was gathering up the best of the best for one lucrative job. Altogether, it was something intriguing enough to send Eliot after.

He’d offered it to Eliot like a reward, a chance to indulge in his little hobby of retrieval. It was more than that of course; everything Damien dangled in front of him had strings attached. It was networking and all the greatest in one spot. It was Damien sticking his finger into every criminal pie. It was a test, a piece in the latest game he was playing. Eliot still took it. Damien spoke and Eliot obeyed. That was the way the world worked, certain as the Earth revolved around the sun.

One story started a story of revenge. Another in a warehouse about to blow. A third with revenge of quite another sort. (Dubenich really had gathered the best of the best together for his little plot. There was Eliot of course, he knew what he was. Ford had a mind like a steel trap that grief hadn’t managed to dull. Parker was a ghost, Hardison a wizard with computers, and Devereaux practically a shapeshifter. He should’ve known better than to think he could double-cross them.)

The story could’ve ended with a check in Eliot’s hand that had far more zeros in it than any he’d seen in his whole life. Proof that the whole matter had been well worth it for Damien. It could’ve ended with him walking away and never seeing any of their faces again. It didn’t though, instead it was a beginning in some ways and a beginning of the end in others.

Keep Reading on AO3

[onyxbird]

Today I have picked back up on working on my "Worse-than-Worst AU" WIP, i.e., the one where both Eliot and Parker are working for Moreau and still working for him when they join Leverage. (And I think I figured out some things about how I'm going to bring the situation to a head, so fingers crossed that that works out.)

However, as I read through and expand on what I already had written, I am discovering that certain things about The Nigerian Job work unsettlingly well for this AU without any tweaks other than the thought process behind them in the Parker internal monologue. 😬

[faorism]

Title: make my messes matter (make this chaos count) let every little fracture in me shatter out loud [1/1] Relationships: Eliot/Moreau, Eliot/Parker, Eliot/Hardison, Pre-OT3. Notes: E. 3000 words. COMPLETE. Dark!fic one-shot with an extreme oral (sex) fixation, emotional hurt no comfort, canon divergence, Eliot feels guilty because he's a double agent for Moreau, and lots of lying and hiding things. Dedicated to @darkfinch, @pebblesrus, and @bostonbakeddeans. Series: While not part of a series, this standalone fic plays within the hell au by finch, which you can catch up on at their undercover eliot au tag. Summary: Fucking Hardison and Parker is not the worst thing he's ever done, but as time goes by and he continues to work as Moreau's spy, Eliot wonders if loving them will be. → read here on ao3

[onyxbird]

I sometimes get AO3 emails where every fic in my Hell AU series has been kudoed, and it's like "Glad you liked it, but I'm not sure this is a good AU for bingereading. Please get yourself some fluff as a palate cleanser."

i can't believe i say "don't binge-read worst au it's corrosive to the mind and spirit" and immediately i see another person in my notifs binge-reading worst au. whacking you all with rolled up newspapers (affectionate)

[bostonbakeddeans]

Don't ask me about the initials tattooed on his scalp, hidden under his hair, right where Moreau likes to rest his hand; don't ask me about him tattooing Eliot himself, Eliot knelt like a supplicant but facing away, so vulnerable and trusting; silence but for the humming of the gun. Don't ask.

hi hello i am here to ask

Yes excellent thank u for asking!

It doesn't happen right away, is the thing. It isn't the first year, or the second. It's not even the third. Eliot has worked his way up the ranks the same way he did in the military - obedience and excellence. He's good, is the thing. He's incredible at whatever he sets his mind to (if it's bloody, if it's brutal, it takes so long to find anything he's good at that isn't violence) and he falls in line like he was born for it.

But he's not unique amongst Moreau's employees (soldiers). At least, Moreau didn't think so. He inspires loyalty (fear) in everyone who works for him - and the paydays are nothing to sniff at. Every man has a price.

(Moreau's not stingy - for a rich man, he's not exactly frugal. It drives Eliot mad, his Mama's voice whispering waste not, want not, his father's voice berating him for 'fripperies' like conditioner. In time, Moreau laughs and feeds him caviar with a gold plated spoon.)

Eliot is just another tool until he's not.

Until Moreau is discussing his next arms deal with a few of his men and Eliot pipes up that the woman they're dealing with has hired ex-Mossad as her security.

Weaker men would tremble under the gaze Eliot's pinned under. When he doesn't so much as flinch, Moreau knows he's different. Maybe worth investing in.

So he's tested, over and over. Every time Eliot passes the test with flying colors, Moreau is just a little more involved. A little more intrigued.

(He doesn't always pass, of course - some tests are made to be failed. Because Moreau is in a mood, or because he wants to hurt someone, or just because.)

It's not until Eliot has been making his meals for six months (six months after he was certain he was going to die, poisoned and in agony for 48 hours) that he decides he wants to mark Eliot. He already owns him, of course - but he wants more. It's been four years, and he wants people to know that this is his.

It's a strange compulsion. Everyone who matters knows that he belongs to Damien, of course - he's never further than a step away if he can help it, these days - but he wants everyone to know.

And yet.

He watches Eliot prepare lunch, pondering. What should it be? He already wears the clothes that are bought for him, accessories too. A brand? Tempting, but he would hate to ruin the meal with the smell of burnt meat.

"Eliot." The first syllable is hardly out of his mouth before Eliot is there, blue eyes meeting his own without hesitation.

"Yes, Damien?" They're beyond 'sir', in private.

Most of the time.

"Eliot, how long have you worked for me?" he asks casually.

"Four years, five months, and eight days, sir." The response comes easily, automatically. Moreau smiles, and Eliot relaxes.

He reaches out and cups the back of Eliot's head, pulling him in close. He goes easily, trusting. They're inches apart, breathing the same air. Moreau smiles.

He knows exactly how to lay claim. He lets go and Eliot steps back without even a hint of a question in his eyes.

Later that afternoon, while the dishes are soaking, Eliot kneels on the marble with his head bowed. Damien holds him steady, one hand around his throat and the other holding a buzzing tattoo gun. The hair at the the nape of Eliot's neck has been shaved to skin, and two elegant capital letters are inscribed permanently. It takes hardly any time at all - perhaps half an hour, all told.

The gun shuts off and time

stops

Hand around throat (collar comfort security threat) squeeze (threat) release (trust)

"Rise."

And he does. Nothing changes - Eliot is just as much his as he was before - everything changes. Moreau stands too.

Eliot turns and smiles, and it's fierce. "Thank you, sir." He's proud, he knows this isn't usual - knows that Damien doesn't need to showboat or lay claim. He's never been that insecure. Eliot knows he's special.

Moreau smiles back, taking his chin. "Make me proud, Eliot."

"Always."

[jamiesfootball]

more leverage/tl thoughts. any time they need someone undercover in sports or labor, they send eliot. which of course makes sense. for eliot. and also probably au roy.

but consider: jamie is NO good at any of that stuff. he can do a lot of sports, especially anything where you have to be fast or agile, and he takes the boxing job - though he has to fight roy on it, but roy is on his last legs and they all know it. but when it comes to labor jamie doesn't know how to do shit, and he's prissy too. doesn't like getting his hands dirty. he's totally comfortable in his own sweat, sure, but he even gets a bit squeamish at blood he was the one to spill especially if it gets on him (this was never a reason roy cited for why he didn't think jamie should be their new hitter, but in hindsight it's Very Obvious lmao).

anyway, so the team is always like yeah you send in the hitter to fill an undercover role in labor, because his asset is his body, right? wrong. there's a gradient when jamie switches from hitting to hacking, a small transitional period of time where he's doing both, but roy always has to step in for any "hitter" job that isn't... well, hitting. he gives jamie all kinds of shit for being a gen z city boy who doesn't know how to change a tire or whatever, but tbf he's glad for the excuse to only be part time retired lol.

& then when they bring isaac(?) on to be roy's replacement since jamie didn't work out (and roy never stops saying he told everyone so about that), he doesn't know how to do a lot of labor stuff too, but he's happy to learn - unlike jamie, who would do the work of course but he'd whine about it and even when he shut up and bore it you could still tell he hated every second - but usually they don't have time for him to get fully trained in stuff so they have roy on comms talking him thru it and jamie always chimes in with totally wrong info just to be obnoxious aksjfks.

My hand didn't slip so much as it went ice skating, stayed out past curfew, and forgot why we were here in the first place:

"How are you so bad at this?” Roy asked over comms, and it took every bit of his restraint for Jamie not to throw the big-scissors right through the mark’s window.

Bad enough that he had to put up with the older man critiquing his fighting style on a daily basis, and the smugness when he pinned Jamie in a headlock, and the eyerolls when he thought Jamie was being purposely ignorant about some complicated maneuver.

(And he wasn't being deliberately obtuse. Roy just knew more obscure fighting techniques than God, and appeared to think that Jamie should have learned capoeira on the back streets of Manchester while reading a dictionary.)

That's what Jamie had to put up with if he wanted to get better. That was the price of having a stable gig, one that paid per diem even when they weren't on the con. Ted basically paid him to hone his craft, on the off-chance it'd be useful to him later. Jamie banked money, his bones didn't break, and the only note on his head these days were the sticky notes Roy left on his forehead when Jamie nodded off in the breakroom.

("I think it says 'Dante's Inferno,'" Keeley said as they shared a stolen sandwich; Roy really was a good cook. She squinted at the tiny, furious handwriting. "Do you think it's a clue?")

He understood the old man was frustrated; his grandad knee had the structural integrity of a broken bottle that'd been glued back together. He'd be stuck in Beard's weird, smelly little van for at least the duration of the job. But it didn't give him the right to be a dick to Jamie about yard work. Where did Roy get off thinking Jamie had ever learned to prune a rose bush?

"You can't cut it down that low or you risk it having to grow up from the graft."

Jamie yanked the big-scissors back from a deadened stalk. “Then you should’ve swapped me with Keeley,” he hissed.

A while ago she'd been gagging over the comms. Her and Ted had a long debate--the kind Jamie could never get away with--about whether she actually had to clean the mark's bathroom as part of her reconnaissance. Yes, the tank was an excellent place to hide stolen jewels; no, she'd never found one there in her life.

Jamie wondered if the housekeepers wore maid outfits. Keeley would look dead fit in a maid outfit. He'd look dead fit in a maid outfit. Anything would look better on him than the gray, stiff-collared maintenance uniform Beard had presented him without comment.

The earbuds made it sound like Roy was right behind him, whispering disapprovingly, "Keeley's on the inside so she can crack the safe when she finds it. And you're supposed to be keeping a lookout on the armed guards. Focus." The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Focus, he said. Like Jamie had the luxury of forgetting that not ten metres away stood a burly man armed with an assault rifle and a blind spot in the cameras. All Jamie had was a pair of big-scissors and a prickly old bastard in his ear.

Honestly? He'd rather scrub the bathroom.

Jamie could scrub the hell out of a bathroom. Hell, he could scrub a carpet so well the landlord would never find the bloodstain. Roy might get high and mighty when Jamie admitted that he'd never used a drill or whatever, but Jamie knew the ins and outs of patching holes in the wall. He couldn’t change a tire, but he could steal a hubcap in under thirty seconds. He couldn’t slice an onion, but he could make twenty pounds at the grocers stretch for two weeks. Crouched eye-level with the rose bush and with a hidden spycam on his top button, him and Roy faced the same barren pot of twigs. Somehow Roy could see the instructions that would guide it to blooming, but Jamie couldn't. To him the rose bush was a dead thing, simple as that.

The big-scissors in his hand curved sharp and short with a thick handle for wielding. He was sure they had real a name for them, but he was also pretty sure his dad used to have something similar around for threatening the debtors who ran late on payments.

He could use a hammer. Roy never asked him if he knew how to use a hammer.

He made another go at the rose bush and got himself pricked for his trouble.

"Shit!" he swore, and over the comms Roy demanded to know, "Are you bleeding?"

"Don't leave DNA," Beard added. Jamie startled; he'd forgotten about the creepy weirdo entirely.

Danger shifted to his left. The guard rounded towards him, boots crunching in the gravel. "Hey! Is there a problem?"

Roy swore. Beard warned him not to engage.

Jamie rose to his feet with his best charming grin slapped on like a plaster over a nasty prick. He held his bleeding hand out like an offering, and with the other he slipped the big-scissors into the sleeve of his shirt.

One of Rebecca's first rules of the con: if you're uncomfortable, use it to make the mark uncomfortable.

He squeezed the big-scissors tight. "Yeah sorry, mate. Got a bit of a nasty cut--don't want it to infect. Could you point me somewhere I could clean up?"

[wolves-in-the-world]

I saw these photos of Moreau's actor [1, 2, 3] and thought: what if he can present himself convincingly as gentle and harmless? We only really see him when he's happy to come across as a threat, but he must walk in more civilised circles sometimes. Then I thought: he’s exactly the kind of person—rich, cultured, connected—Sophie used to rub shoulders with.

[1k, also on Ao3]

~

Sophie was on the job and he had his own reasons for being there, so she didn’t really clock him. He was nice enough, she thought, flattering and articulate, and she considered taking the risk of having a little more fun while she worked. In the end, though, the job came first.

Years later, when they get Nate out of prison and he tells them they’re taking down Damien Moreau, it takes Hardison putting the details up on the screen for Sophie to piece together the charming man she flirted with and the man who has so much blood on his hands. She feels sick to her stomach, but she tucks it away before Nate can see.

Not Eliot, though. He finds her in a quiet moment a few days later and she can tell there’s something serious here, recognises his game face while he’s putting the kettle on and getting a mug for himself, a cup and saucer for her. He confirms her suspicion when he speaks.

“You’ve run into Moreau before?”

Sophie sighs and sits back in her chair, letting him see her tiredness. He’s doing his job, after all—looking out for the team, just like she does, though he’s more about their physical safety. If either one of them is out of balance, it’ll hit the others in the end. She can admit this here at least. “Once, at a private event in Edinburgh,” she tells him. “I was after a lovely Monet and he was… charming.”

Eliot sets the tea in front of her and she casts him a grateful look, adding the milk and sugar herself. He leans back against the counter, folding his arms and keeping himself small. “He didn’t know what you were doing?”

“You know, I think he must have, now. At the time…” She winces and takes a sip, and the familiarity of the tea—too hot still—steadies her. Eliot doesn’t speak, just settles down in the chair opposite and wraps his hands around his mug.

“I’m meant to be able to recognise these people, you know?” she says. “Finding their weaknesses, stringing them along just long enough that they can hang themselves with it, that’s what I do. And I actually… I actually thought he was nice.”

Eliot’s quiet for a moment, looking down at his tea. “We haven’t actually been up against anyone like him before, Sophie. He got that powerful for a reason, and that reason is he’s good at what he does.”

“Well, so am I,” says Sophie, just a little bit of a joke in it, just a little bit of a smile to coax the same from him. He meets her eyes, but he isn’t smiling.

“You weren’t expecting him,” he tells her, his voice soft. “And it doesn’t sound like he was there for you, if you only found out now. People like him…” A moment’s hesitation. “They can be very charming. Good at hiding what they are.”

“You’re really worried about this one, aren’t you?”

He does smile then, a handsome thing with little enough warmth to it. “I’m always worried about this team, but yeah, I wish Nate hadn’t cornered himself into this. Moreau’s not someone you go after if you know what’s good for you.”

There’s something there, Sophie thinks, in the things he’s not saying and the smiles he’s not giving, the questions he asked of her. Maybe he’s been up against someone like this before. Maybe he crossed paths with Moreau and was lucky to escape.

It’s something the team might need to know, really, except that Eliot’s always been good at sharing things when they’re important. Nate’s methods aren’t always the best ones. There are bruises here, half-healed broken bones, and she’s not about to press any harder than she has to.

“You’re not the only one,” she tells him, and his eyes go still on hers. “Looking out for the team. We’ll get through this, Eliot.”

“You sure about that?”

The tone of his voice—something too small and too tired to be desperation—tugs at something inside her. She hasn’t often worried about Eliot, not like this, and she doesn’t like letting it go. She doesn’t like knowing he’ll do his best to hide it from the others, and even from her.

“You know, Eliot, I worked alone for a long time too, but sometimes I worked with others. Teams, partners…” She gives a little shrug. “I’ve never seen a team quite as capable as us. Maybe we won’t take this one down. Maybe we’ll have to drag Nate back from the brink and find another way to get the Italian off our tails. But I have faith we’ll walk away from it afterwards.”

Eliot glances down for a moment, tilting his mug in his hands. “The world owes us that much,” he says, and it almost sounds like agreement.

Sophie sits back and drinks her tea, watching the play of light across the surface of the liquid. “I suppose this is a good reminder,” she says, and catches Eliot’s questioning look. “That no-one’s good enough to think they can see everything,” she tells him, gesturing a hand.

“I think you already know my thoughts on caution,” Eliot tells her, and this time he’s smiling. She meets his eyes and returns it, though after a moment hers is fading again.

“You know,” she says, “I sat across the table from him and we talked for almost an hour. I never could have told you he was a monster.”

“Well,” says Eliot, and it sounds almost like there’s something caught in his throat, though it’s gone when he continues, “with people like him, you never can tell.”