#you KNOW Nate and Eliot at least check in you KNOW

[firebirdsdaughter]

Those moments…

… Where Nate and Sophie just. Temporarily drop the con and are just Proud Parents for a hot minute.

#Leverage #looking at the Studio Job specifically but they do it all over the place #for all the kids #every time one of them does something impressive #they love their kids so much it's so soft #just periodically you have these moments where they aren't playing parts #they're just two ragtag parents being proud of their ragtag kids' accomplishments #and I love that for them #part of how you know that no way in hell are they just leaving #they're gonna wanna hear all about what their kids are up to #like for all the emotion in that finale you know that Nate and Sophie aren't leaving forever #they're just officially retiring #they'll keep in touch and periodically come back for jobs if their kids make baby eyes at them #they're family #and they love their children too much to not check up on them #you KNOW Nate and Eliot at least check in you KNOW #Literal Crime Family

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Cross My Heart Job

leverage 4.09

(team comes down an escalator toward the main floor)

Sophie: Well, that trip was a complete disaster.

Hardison: It was a train wreck.

Eliot: No, it was a shipwreck. And you know how I know that? 'Cause I was in the wreck.

Hardison: Hey, man, I don't want to hear you complain. At least you don't have to fix th-the ear buds. You know what?

Eliot: Man, don't talk to me about the ear buds! I just fought three ex-Brazilian combat divers with spear-guns, underwater!

Hardison: I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it.

Eliot: You believe this? (taps Sophie’s arm)

Sophie: Ow, don't touch me. I am sunburnt everywhere. I hate playing the French heiress on the topless beach.

Parker: Oh, I don't know what you're complaining about. I didn't even get to see the emerald.

Hardison: Are you for real?

Eliot: Oh, my god, for the last time, it's not an emerald. All right? It's an island. It's the "Emerald of the Caribbean."

chaotic family on an escalator

- - - - -

Parker: The heart could be anywhere by now. They could have jumped in a taxi and driven off.

Sophie: No, no, we have to assume it's still in the airport, that they're planning to fly it out.

Parker: Why?

Eliot: 'Cause otherwise, we've already lost

- - - - -

Eliot: All right. They're in there. We're gonna need a distraction.

(Sophie takes off her pants and uses her long shirt like a dress, then shakes out her hair and pulls a pair of heels from her purse. Parker counts some cash)

Parker: All right, they told Linda to call from a pay phone for instructions once she made the drop.

Eliot (hands Parker money): Better hurry up, or they're gonna start getting suspicious.

Parker: It's a good thing we didn't stay on that island to see those emeralds.

Eliot: Parker, I just t...

(Sophie leans on Eliot to put on her shoes)

Eliot: You carry high heels in your purse?

Sophie: I always travel with heels. (takes Parker’s scarf and ties it around her waist) How's this? Distracting enough?

Parker: Hmm.

parker and eliot both look away, partially to give her privacy but partially to act as a wall so that other people won’t see her changing

notice the stark contrast between this scene and the other changing scene in this episode

- - - - -

(the clerk closes the doors. Inside, Eliot pulls the kidnapper between two tables while Parker talks to Tanya)

Paker: Yeah, that will work. We'll get you a little taser, carry it with you wherever you go-

parker and her tasers + being surprisingly good with kids

- - - - -

Nate (to Eliot): What do you got on this guy?

Eliot: He's not a professional. He has no combat training. Lousy Zanshin.

Parker: The what?

Eliot: He's a loc... It means "personal awareness." Thug for hire, but very well funded. (hands Nate tickets) Two first-class tickets, one for him and one for the girl, and that's how they got past security, and (hands gun to Nate) plastic gun. One or two shots in the barrel warps, but that's pretty much all you need, very pricey hardware.

Parker: Why would someone pay for that but not hire a professional?

Eliot: He doesn't want a professional. He wants a local so we can't trace him back to him.

- - - - -

(Eliot uses a cord to tie the kidnapper’s hands)

Eliot (to Sophie): Don't suppose you travel with handcuffs.

Sophie: No, not on this trip.

👀👀👀

- - - - -

Parker: Plus the ear buds are busted.

Hardison: And I burned our phones and our credit cards so we can't be traced.

Sophie: Most of our money went on bribing the waiter.

Eliot: We're operating in a secured area.

Parker: And my lock picks are checked.

Hardison: And airport wi-fi is a joke. Face it, we're practically naked.

- - - - -

(Eliot and Parker walk out of the Restaurant and part ways. Parker approaches a kiosk that sells computers and looks around, then crouches to look at the locks before walking away. Eliot approaches an electronic store before yelling catches his attention from a check in desk not far away)

Platinum Flyer: You guys! Hey! Platinum flyer over here. Come here. Somebody look at me.

Airline Clerk: Sir, please calm down.

Platinum Flyer: Ju... let me stop you right there, okay? I don't care what seats you have left, all right? Do you see this? (holds up a card) I am a vista Atlantic platinum flyer, all right? Is this card gold? No. Look at it. Is it silver? No.

(Eliot looks around, sees a magazine and picks it up)

Platinum Flyer: It's platinum, all right? So if you think that I am sitting back in coach with the rabble, you got another think coming, all right?

(Eliot puts the magazine over the Platinum Flyer’s briefcase as the man tries to drop his wallet into it)

Platinum Flyer: You can just forget it. I don't even want to talk to you anymore. Who's that? Thing one and thing two, come here. You guys. Hey!

(Eliot walks back to the electronics store and pulls the Platinum Flyer’s credit card from the wallet. He enters the store and grabs several packages of walkie talkies, then flags down a clerk)

Eliot: Yo, yo, yo. Come over here.

(Parker tries on various sunglasses, stealing a pair before walking away. She walks past again and steals a snow globe. On another pass she steals a bag. She returns to the computer kiosk and breaks the sunglasses to picks the locks, revealing an old style CRT monitor)

all this competence porn, it’s SO GOOD

- - - - -

(later Parker and Eliot take apart the walkie talkies at a table while Hardison uses an old computer at the bar with Sophie and Linda watching while Nate paces)

Nate: Hardison, come on.

Hardison: Look, man, this is like stone knives and bearskins, okay? Nobody's asking Eliot to fight a guy with a nerf sword.

Eliot: Damascus, 2002.

Hardison: Like you've been to Damascus.

domestic parker and eliot taking apart walkie talkies? eliot legit sword fighting with a nerf sword? amazing

- - - - -

(the clerk watches from behind them, amazed)

Hardison: Wh-what? Come on, man. Like you've never seen a man travel with a desktop before. Go.

LMAO

- - - - -

Nate: Right there! Right there. Him.

Sophie: Dean Chesney?

Nate: Dean Chesney, CEO of Vertronics defense contractor. I had my eye on him for quite a while, but he was never a high-priority target.

Hardison: Why not?

Nate: He was dying.

- - - - -

(Eliot sits down and his feet hit against the struggling kidnapper. Eliot kicks him in the head but he continues making muffled sounds)

Nate: Are you done?

(Eliot kicks the man again)

Eliot: Yeah

- - - - -

Hardison: After we get out of the public areas of the terminal, we work on level two. It's ground crew, tarmac access. It gets us from here to the private terminal.

Parker: How do we get that? Break Eliot's wrist?

Hardison: What? N-no, no. We just pick one up from where the ground crew left it.

[Locker Room]

Parker (opening combination lock): Yeah, this will keep my stuff safe, from a 6-year-old with the DTs.

(Parker opens the locker and removes a jacket. Eliot closes the locker and hits the lock on the one next to it, opening the lock. He pulls out a level 2 badge and hands it to Parker)

Eliot: That's two.

(Parker and Eliot begin to change clothes)

🔥🔥🔥 scene tho 🔥🔥🔥

also, notice how they start getting changed without turning around or anything, like hardison would have immediately turned around because that’s who he is. she literally immediately takes her shirt off without a care. he doesn’t even blink at it. eliot and parker have a very strong, nonverbal, physical bond because they’re similar entities. they understand each other on a deep level because of their pasts and there isn’t that type of need for modesty between them.

also they’re literally so close to each other when they’re doing this??? literally, personal space? they don’t know her

ALSO, eliot throws his shirt at the camera and idk it feels like he’s giving parker privacy from the “onlookers” (aka the camera) if you get what I’m saying,,,

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, we have to lure them out.

Parker: Oh, okay. Set Nate on fire?

Eliot: Settle down

she mouths “no” back at him and they have a silent exchange where she ends up smiling I love them

- - - - -

Hardison (pacing): Come on, Eliot. Come on, come on. Come on, man.

Announcer: Mr. Picard. Mr. Kirk Picard, please meet your party at door "E.

ELIOT KNOWS HOW TO GET HARDISONS ATTENTION. HE KNOWS TO MAKE A STAR TREK REFERENCE AND BAM HARDISON KNOWS WHATS UP. WHAT D O R K S

- - - - -

(Eliot gets into a cart that Parker is sitting in. She holds up the keys and hands them to him)

Parker: Let's ride

her SMILE and EXCITEMENT

- - - - -

Hardison: Excuse me. Uh, something's wrong with my pin. Can you reset it for me?

(Hardison hands the card to the guard, who scans it)

Guard: Can you confirm your old pin?

(the screen shows that the card belongs to a woman and the guard looks at Hardison in surprise)

Guard: Uh...

Hardison: What?

Guard: Wh—

Hardison: what? You got a, you got a problem? My little transformation? Go on, speak your mind. Yeah, I had some surgery, huh? A little nip, a little tuck, a little pop, okay? And now I am who I'm supposed to be. I used to be Francesca. Now my name is Frank!

Guard: Um...

(a second guard turns to look at Hardison)

Hardison: You got a problem? You... excu—excu—I didn't know this was the club. You all up in the mix, don't even know the flavor. What's your problem? (walks around the desk aggressively) You got a, you—everybody got a problem with this? Look, racism, sexism, anti-semitism? That's how you y'all want to play this? Cool. I thought it was a no-no in airport security, but I see y'all profilin' me right, left, and center, everywhere. You know what? Shame on you. Shame on your mama. Shame on your kids.

(Hardison glances at the monitor to see the pin number, then walks back around the desk)

Guard: I-it's fine. I-it's fine. I got no problem with anything. Uh, it-it looks like you used to, used to be a-a really pretty girl.

Hardison: Used to be?

Guard: A-and n-now you're a-a very handsome gentleman.

Hardison: You hitting on me?

Guard: C-can you confirm your old pin?

Hardison: It's 5135.

Guard: Uh. (scans the card) Okay, there. Try that.

Hardison: Thank you. (looks at second guard) You better re-adjust your peripherals.

Guard 2: Real smooth.

(Hardison returns to the card reader and scans the card, entering the pin)

Reader: Pin accepted.

Hardison: Don't care what anybody else says. Next time, I'm taking the train.

I can’t tell if this scene was transphobic or not ??? like, it could have been worse and he called out people who would be judgmental of his “transformation” ???

like there was like one other kinda transphobic thing they did in the show but I forget the episode

- - - - -

Nate: I know what you're gonna say.

Sophie: I think you should have a drink.

Nate: Okay, I didn't know what you were gonna say.

Sophie: Look, we don't like it when you drink, (pours him a drink) but we trust you when you do. We both knew this was gonna get personal. We need you to stay clear-headed. You let it get to you now, it's gonna go bad for all of us. Be very careful, Nate.

- - - - -

Nate: Sam would have been 13 this year. A teenager. Almost a man. I mean, you know, probably a big pain in the ass, but… Joshua Spin is getting out of that hospital bed.

(Sophie nods. Nate sighs and takes the drink, looking down at Sophie’s hand over his)

- - - - -

hardison’s GRIN when he sees all the computers in the tower 🥺

- - - - -

Parker: It took us 8 minutes to get there. It's gonna take us 8 minutes to get back. Wait. (goes around to the front of the cart)

Eliot: What are you doing? Wait. No way!

(Parker lies on the ground and reaches under the cart)

Eliot: Come on, Parker, we got to go! We got to get-- Let's go! What are you do-- Quit monkeying around under there!

(Parker stands up holding a piece of electronics)

Eliot: Did you just pull something out of the engine?

Parker: Yeah. Spark regulator, keeps the cart from going more than 25 miles an hour. Now we'll get there in 4 minutes.

(Eliot starts the cart and takes off quickly)

Parker: Hey! Whoa! Whoa! Yeah!

- - - - -

Nate: Last week on that island, you faked a volcanic eruption. How is this harder?

HE DID WHAT NOW

- - - - -

Nate: You just sell it to the tower.

Sophie: Massdot special?

Nate: Massdot special.

Linda: Massdot special?

Sophie: Yes! (takes Linda’s phone and makes a call)

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: National Weather Service. This is Rachel.

Sophie: Oh, thank God!

[Crab-a-Rama]

Sophie: I was just out walking my dogs, and I saw a tornado touch down!

(Nate pulls up pictures of tornadoes on the computer)

Rachael: Are you sure?

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: The current forecast don't indicate any severe-weather patterns.

Sophie: I'm sure.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Sophie: I took a photo of it with my phone. I'm sending it to you now.

(Nate sends a picture of a tornado to Rachael as he dials the phone)

[National Weather Service]

(Rachael looks at the picture in shock)

Rachael: Uh, please hold, ma'am. (places Sophie on hold and takes another call) National weather service. This is Rachel.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: Are you asleep at the wheel? There's a tornado out here by the airport right now! A freaking tornado! Come on!

[National Weather Service]

Rachael: Bill. Bill!

Bill: What is it?

Rachael: We got calls here. I think we need to issue a tornado warning for the Cincinnati metropolitan area.

- - - - -

Chesney: --to make the top of the list. This is my only chance. I've planned for months. I have eight backup contingencies. I'm fighting for my life, Mr. Ford! What are you fighting for?

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: I am fighting for that 15-year-old boy that you're going to kill.

[Chesney’s Room]

Chesney: God helps those who help themselves.

Nate: And I help people who can't.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: And God help you if anything should happen to that boy, because if he spends more than one second longer in that hospital than he needs to, I will make it my mission in life to end you.

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: I will ruin you.

[Crab-a-Rama]

Nate: I will ruin your name. I will ruin your company. I will bring down everything you have ever touched. And when I am done, I will hunt you down--

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: --and I will kill you myself.

[Crab-a-Rama]

(Nate hangs up the phone)

- - - - -

parker yells “yee haw” a lot and I love her for that

- - - - -

Pilot: Tower, field is in sight.

Program: We have you in sight. Clear to land on runway 1-8.

Hardison: Okay, flight 4-0-9. W-we have a visual. You are clear to land on runway 1-8.

Pilot: Roger. Clear to land.

(the airplane lands safely)

Pilot: Tower, we are down.

Hardison: Yes! Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about.

Pilot: Say again, tower?

Hardison: I'm sorry. No, no, I'm sorry. It's cool. It's cool. It's cool. Celebrate with me. All right.

hardison managed to land an airplane with 300 people on it with nothing more than a computer and a flight simulator and we STAN our intelligent man

- - - - -

eliot was always standing next to hardison in all the extra scenes in this episode and we love to see it

- - - - -

(Eliot looks at Nate and Sophie, then nudges Hardison)

Eliot: Let's go.

(Eliot grabs Parker on the way down the hall, Hardison follows them)

his lil pat on hardison’s shoulder? how he places a guiding hand on parker’s arm, leading her away? we LOVE to see casual touches and casual intimacy between them

- - - - -

so hardison likes to assemble model helicopters in his spare time sometimes and nate assembles model ships in his ???

- - - - -

Chesney: So now what? You can't report me without exposing yourself. And what's to stop me from trying again?

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: I am. (hits remote to bring up information and a video feed on the monitors) I'm watching you. I'm watching your money, your people, your company. What have you got there, a pulse rate of 86?

[Chesney’s Room]

(Chesney looks around in alarm)

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Oh, look at that.

[Chesney’s Room]

Nate: Just jumped up to 104. That can't be good for you.

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Make your peace now, Chesney. (continues putting model together) Because if I see anything, anything I don't like...

[Chesney’s Room]

Chesney: Well, Mr. Ford it seems you've killed me after all.

[Leverage HQ]

Nate: Oh, I didn't kill you. God killed you. I just made sure it took. (hangs up)

#eliot spencer #parker #alec hardison #leverage ot3 #parker x hardison x eliot #leverage #nate ford #nate ford meta #sophie devereaux #sophie devereaux meta #parker meta #alec hardison meta #eliot spencer meta #meta #notable moments #the cross my heart job #leverage season 4 #mine #leverage: let's go steal a queue

[fablesrose]

Leverage Rewrite Ch 1 - Phone Calls

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Words: 3054

Summary: We are introduced to y/n Ford and her relationship with Nate through some phone calls. Takes place directly after the Bank Shot Job and goes through most of season 1.

Warnings: drinking, swearing, canon level stuff

A/n: okay, so I may be up over my head on this one, but here it is.

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

The ringing of my phone snapped me out of my lackluster concentration. I enjoyed freelancing, I really did, but this job was just not coming along like I wanted it to. I couldn’t even drag my eyes off my laptop to see who was calling me. It was always work related though.

“This is y/n Ford, how can I help you?” I made sure to turn on my best chipper voice, though I could tell my perplexed expression didn’t change. 

“Don’t use your customer service voice on me, y/n.” The voice was very familiar and I sighed in relief, turning away from my computer. 

“Oh, hey Nate. I didn’t look at the phone, I thought it was work… How are you doing?”

“That’s alright, I’m doing fine. I saw that you called a little while ago, I’m sorry it took awhile, I was working a job.” He sounded tired, but different than the last few times I had talked to him.

“Yeah, I just hadn’t heard from you for a bit, but a job? I didn’t know you were working again. How has that been going? What are you doing?” 

It was good that he was getting out and doing things again. He had been in a deep rut since he left I.Y.S and got divorced. And of course since Sam… passed. It has only seemed to get worse after that. I have tried to check in with Nate at least every couple months, more frequently when possible. Sometimes he doesn’t get back to me for a while, which seemed to be the case here. I’ve been worried about him, but maybe this will lead him to the up and up.

“Uh, I’m not sure if I can explain what I’m doing right now, birdie. It uh, it's a bit complicated and maybe more dangerous than you would like…” He sighed, and I didn’t even have to see his face to know he was giving a slight wince at what he said. I smiled, both at hearing him call me the nickname he had given me years ago, as well as his conscientiousness of my feelings. 

“Well, I hope you can tell me about it sometime. Are you happy doing it?”

He thought about it for a minute, “yeah, I am. I get to help people.”

“Are you alone? Do you need help?”

“No, I’ve got people.”

“Then that’s good enough for me. I still worry some, but you’re a grown man, you can take care of yourself… or should I say old man?” I smirked, knowing that it would bother him a bit. 

He barked out half a laugh, “I’ll let that one go. I’m glad you worry about me… You know you’re my favorite niece right?”

It was my turn to laugh sarcastically. “I’m your only niece. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Okay.”

I set the phone down after he hung up. Nate practically raised me. My parents died when I was a kid, an accident, and he was the only family I had left… Or the best family I had left. Grandad Jimmy barely counts. Even with my parents around I was always close with Nate, he always had little puzzles to teach me or games to play. I knew it was hard on him, to take care of me, but we had each other, and it got better. We both had to grow up fast, and when Maggie and then Sam came along, it seemed like the world was giving back a little bit. We were a happy family for a while. I graduated, moved out into the real world, and tried to be to Sam what Nate was to me. It all came crashing down. Nate had his own process though. This was worse than when my parents died, understandably, but I knew he was the only one that could work himself out of it. I try to let him. 

My eyes flipped back to my computer from where they were staring at the abandoned phone on the table. I can’t afford to reminisce any longer, I have deadlines to keep.

—---

Across the country, Nate absentmindedly tapped his phone against his knee, thinking. He gingerly moved his right shoulder, trying not to test his stitches too much. The team had just finished up the bank shot job. He knew he needed to take it easy while he healed up from his gunshot wound, but he could feel a slight itch to keep going in the back of his head. To take his mind off of it, he looked back at his phone, thinking of y/n.

He did miss her. Nate knew he had been distant recently and that she worried about him. He felt awful when he thought too hard about it. Here his niece was, worrying about him, a grown man, the one who raised her, who should be worrying about her. It made him want to reach for a drink. The truth was, he didn’t worry about her. Not often anyway. She was every bit of her parents, something Nate was glad for. His older brother was always the better one, he thought. He would have never become… Never become what Nate had, under the circumstances. 

He didn’t know what y/n would think about what Nate was doing now. He didn’t want to leave her in the dark, they had always worked together through Nate’s changing careers and her own progression through life. He also knew that this work was dangerous. Nate winced as the stitches pulled a bit as he shifted. He didn’t want her to worry about him more, or worse, get caught up in it if she didn’t have to. 

Nate went to pour himself a drink before heading back to rest. He set his phone down at his bedside table, looking at it for a moment longer. 

He would find a way to tell her somehow.

—----

It was about a month later when I was getting ready for bed that I got an email to my personal account. I usually don’t check emails this late, but it was from Nate. 

Hey birdie, I know it’s late over there and you probably don’t want to work, but I have this script that I need to make sure is believable for an actress. Do you mind looking over it? 

Attached was a pretty large file. Opening it up showed that it was around ten pages and it held two scenes. He was right, I didn’t want to, but it was Uncle Nate asking a pretty small favor. I read it through and answered.

So… the scenes themselves are decent, good pacing. Leaving the boy orphaned with the nun and mother dying will be sure to pull some tears. But the overall plot? That’s just awful, I’m sorry. Not sure how you fix that. 

It wasn’t too long before I got a reply.

Good enough, thanks. 

I sighed as I finished getting ready for bed. I didn’t know what in the world he was doing anymore, but at least he was still alive. 

I had started to forget about the interaction when a few days later he called.

“Wow, I hear from you twice in one week? What’s the occasion?”

There was a lot of noise in the background indicating he was in a busy place, “Yeah yeah I just… I finished this job and was thinking about you, so I thought I’d call.”

I smiled, “Appreciated… Is that your job, fighting werewolves with NATO troops? Is that why it's so dangerous?”

He groaned, “Please don’t mention the script, I want to wipe that from my memory. It uh,” he paused, thinking and I could hear some background announcements like he was in an airport or train station. “I was able to help some orphans this job, and… I- I’m just glad that you were able to come live with me, that we had each other when. When your dad passed, and mom.”

I took a moment before answering, “Me too Nate…” 

There was a moment of silence when I heard a deeper voice a bit further away from the phone, “Nate, come on, we gotta catch our connection. Last call.”

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Okay, talk to you later.”

He said a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone. It seemed like his new job was exciting, and I was interested in seeing where it took him next… If I could ever figure out what it was. 

I started to look forward to his calls even more now, and they happened more frequently as well. I always speculated what little details he would drop about his most recent adventure, if he shared any at all. One call he talked about a wedding and the fiascos behind it, from a woman he worked with that seemed to peeve him at times to appetizers. He insisted that when I got married (after he asked if I wanted to) that he wouldn’t attend if it was going to be a large crap shoot like the one he was just involved with. I simply laughed, I didn’t interject more than that to ask him about it as he was in a rush and clearly exasperated. 

The next phone call mentioned the same woman, of whom I learned her name was Sophie. I could tell he was still a bit peeved at her, but there was something else there as well, an interest. I smiled to myself as he talked, but didn’t mention it… yet. There were so many other questions I had about what he was doing now. I finally pried a bit more.

“Nate, come on, you’ve got to give me something. What are you doing, what is this job you are working?”

He paused like he knew it was coming, but still not prepared, “I am the lead of a… consulting team. We help people when no one else will, when no one else can.”

“Well that’s very noble of you Nathan. I’m not getting any more than that right now am I?” I laughed a little bit towards the end. 

“Yeah, uh, that is it for now. I’ll tell you more about it some other time.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

The next call was not as cheerful or exciting as the previous ones. I was already coming down with a cold, and another project had hit a standstill because of the lack of cooperation of people within the client’s company. Much more of this and I would back out of the contract. Luckily my contract states that I will get paid for the work completed, not necessarily at completion, and if I have to cancel a contract due to certain circumstances such as lack of cooperation, I get to keep funds in relation to work completed as well as the deposit. In other words, it would be their loss. 

I could feel I was developing a headache, but I answered the phone anyway, “Hello?”

“Heyy, how’s it going? I um… I can’t remember why I called…” There was a slight slur in his voice that I immediately picked up on.

“Nate? Are you drunk right now?” I asked accusingly, my headache getting worse. 

“What? No… what time is it… maybe.”

I groaned, “Damn it… You said you were getting better. You said you would quit!”

“Hey, I never said that-”

“Am I gonna have to kick your ass to keep you around?”

There was a pause on the other end, “No, Eliot can do that, he said he would keep me in line if he had to.”

“Well…” I took a moment to collect my thoughts, “I don’t know who this Eliot character is, but hopefully he’s good on his word, cuz I don’t want to fly all the way out there for that. I’d rather you stick around for a while.”

“I know.”

I sighed knowing I wouldn’t get much farther with him right now, “Well, sober up a bit. I can’t handle much more right now Nate, I’m getting sick. We both better go get some rest.”

“You’re sick? I’ll ask around for some recipes to help you feel better.”

Before I could stop him and tell him don’t bother, he hung up. I sighed again, stopping to get my bearings before starting the trek to the bathroom to take some medicine. 

I had grown a bit lax on Nate with his drinking. I made sure he didn’t drink himself to death after Sam’s death and the divorce, but once he made it to somewhat functioning, I just grew tired. There wasn’t much else I could do, so I figured he could sort himself out when he needed to. That seemed to be the case over the last couple of months. I could tell in his phone calls as they became more frequent that he was drinking less and getting better. I had exaggerated a bit when I said he promised me he would quit. I wish I had made him promise, but I guess it was just a conversation and some hope on my end. 

I didn’t know the rest of his team, but I hoped they could help him, or at least keep him on this side of life. Or that he had someone to rely on out there. I felt useless here in Boston while he was out in LA. Maybe I should have moved out there when his life had gone down hill, despite his protests. I could theoretically work anywhere. 

I started to slip into sleep as I thought about it. I didn’t fight it.

The next morning I woke up to an email on my phone.

Hey, I’m sorry I called you while drunk. Eliot gave me some soup recipes, hopefully they will help with the cold. Feel better birdie.

Below were the recipes promised. I looked them over, and they all looked really good, and relatively simple to make. This was good as I could feel the congestion in my head was worse than the night before and knew simple would be essential to any new meal the next couple of days. I’d like to meet this Eliot someday. 

—---

Over a month later Nate sat in his chair, staring at the drink in his hand reflecting back to the last phone call he had with y/n. He was drunk, and she was clearly upset at him. He hated to admit it, but, while he didn’t want to worry her, he should have felt more guilty about it. For that reason he hasn’t talked to her since he sent that email with Eliot’s recipes. 

What an unfortunate coincidence it was when he had to go into rehab with the mark for the next job. His mind kept going back to the group session they had with Sophie talking about the healing power of apologies, or something like that. She asked him if there was anyone he wanted to apologize to for burdening with his drinking problem, highly suggesting to him that he apologize to her and the team. What really got him was when she mouthed the words “like your niece?” 

Maybe that’s why he blew up a little. He didn’t need her to be brought up. The fact that Sophie knew so much about him unnerved him sometimes. He thought he kept her underwraps, out of whatever mess Nate found himself in. He obviously needs to brush up on those skills.

—---

I got a somewhat urgent call from Nate, the first one since he called me drunk that night. I was gearing up for a serious talk about his drinking, boundaries, and whatnot. This did not seem to be the case. 

“You’ve done mock trials before right?”

That stopped me in my tracks, “in highschool? Yeah, but that was a long time ago, what is going on?”

He explained that he was in a similar situation with him and his team. The plaintiff was a widow whose husband died from taking an energy supplement. She was suing the supplement company, but was not doing well.

“How would you win for this widow?”

I took a moment to think it over, “I mean… You have your three persuasive techniques, logical, emotional, and reputation, to paraphrase. You can either tear down the company and their arguments on these fronts and slash or build up your own. I don’t know all the data behind the supplement or if you have health records for the husband before and after the supplement, but that could help. If you want to go the dirty route you can tear down the credibility of the company and their witnesses and experts…” I hummed and hawed for a bit, still thinking. “Also considering, if this is a jury trial, play into the emotional side, get their sympathy, show that it is someone’s fault that this husband, father? Is he a father? You know, etc etc. Just keep with the triangle, logic, emotion, and credibility. Not sure what else to give you without more research or context.”

I heard a distant voice that said, “That just might work,” suggesting to me that I was on speaker phone. 

Nate talked to this other guy, “see, just put on your bowtie and talk to them like you’ve been doing your whole life.” He turned back to the phone and spoke to me, “That’s perfect, thank you, bye.”

He hung up and I just stared at the phone in my hand. What kind of consulting business is this?

I got a call I wasn’t expecting one day from someone I haven’t heard from in a long time. 

“Hey y/n, how have you been?”

“Maggie? I’ve been fine, just working freelancing… What’s up?” While she and Nate have been divorced for a couple of years now, she still played a role in my life as an aunt. We definitely drifted apart, but I thought we were both dear to each other. 

“That’s good, I’m glad you’ve been doing okay. I do have a favor to ask you though.”

“Okay… What is it?”

“I’d imagine it’s been a while since either of us have gone to a fancy party… What do you say?”

I hated to say it, but she was right. “Tell me when and where.”

#eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer #leverage #rewrite #slow burn #multichapter #nate ford #sophie devereaux #alec hardison #parker #ford!reader #maggie collins

[thegeeksideofsr]

Keeping Secrets

I had an idea about Eliot and a single mom of an eight year old, and I couldn't get it out of my head. I hope you enjoy!

Takes place around season two.

Content: mention of a kid slipping on a flight of stairs, bruises, and single parenting

" Look, we need this for the job. I know it's short notice, but you said you have some on hand."

"I said I had half finished ones. It would take at least six hours of painting to finish. Then the process to make the paint cure and ageing takes another four. I can't Nate." I say into my phone as I add cut carrot to the pot of soup on the stove, then turn to glance at my daughter drawing at the table. "I have priorities that are outside the team that are more important then conning someone."

" Alright. I talk to Hardison, see what he can cook up."

"Good plan. I'm sorry I couldn't help. See ya."

I pull the phone away and hangup, tucking it into my pocket. I turn back to the pot on the stove and give the contents a stir.

The call with Nate still on my mind after dinner, even though I tried to punch it out of my mind and focus on Odette

After she went to bed I texted Hardison to make sure it was all good, which it was of course, but the guilt of not telling the team was starting to get to me. Especially not telling Eliot.

He and I would flirt and dance around each other all the time, we have since I joined the team. But I still keep my life private, being one of the best forgers is dangerous. Even if it's part time.

The next morning I bring her to school, making sure to sign her field trip permission slip, then give her a long hug, before sending her inside.

I head to McRory's to check in and do some legitimate work.

I walk into Nate's apartment, finding him and Hardison there with security feeds on the screens.

" Hey guys. How's it going?"

" It's going. Managed to pull something together. Not as good as yours but it's getting the job done." Nate says with out looking at me.

"I'm sure he did a great job." I reply as I pull out my sketch book to work at Nate's dinner table.

"Nice of you to join us." Eliot's voice cracks through the comms.

"Nice hear you too, El. Sorry I couldn't help last night."

"S'alright. Hardison managed. But I'd love to hear about what kept you busy."

"Was it a date?" Parker asks.

" Kinda."

"Oh? Who with?"

"Somebody special. Now can we stop talking about my personal life?"

The rest day passes with out much excitement. The team comes and goes and soon enough we are all down in the pub. I note that school let out thirty minutes ago, but Odette has a practice for a school play for an hour and a half after school. Meaning I hang out for another half hour with the team, then head to pick her up, and grab some take out on the way home.

A light touch at my elbow makes me jump and turn to see Eliot grinning at me.

"Didn't mean to scare you, darlin'. I was just asking if you had plans later."

I let out a sigh and look down. This isn't the first time he's asked that, and I doubt it will be the last. He's asked me out before, but the thought Odette getting attached to him like I have, or getting caught up in something scares me enough to not risk it.

" I do. I'm sorry, Eliot."

"With the someone from last night?"

"Yeah. But please, Eliot, I want to keep my private life, private."

" I understand. I won't push it, but I wish you'd tell me why we do this dance, yet you always have mysterious plans."

" I know. But I can't tell you, El."

" Because you don't trust me?" His voice is low as he looks at his feet.

I step close to him, I cup his cheek and make him look at me.

"Eliot, I trust you with my life. But this is something I can't risk, this part of my life shouldn't touch the other side."

"What do you think would happen?"

"I don't know, and I am terrified to find out. But if something changes, you will be the first to know, okay?"

A small smile crosses his face, I return his smile and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. I wish I could let my self fall for him with out a care, kiss him properly, but I can't.

I pull away and step back, taking a deep breath, I grab my stuff and turn back to him.

"Good night, Eliot."

"Good night."

I turn and head out the door and once in the safety of my car I relax just a little. I check the time, almost an hour to kill till pick up, I drive over to Odette's school and park. I pull out my sketch book and wait.

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

A rapid knock on my car window pulls my attention away from work to find my daughter's face pressed against the glass making a face, causing a laugh to bubble out of my chest.

When she pulls away I roll my window down.

"Hey kiddo! How's was today?"

"Good. Miss. Anne read to us and we got to make a recipe form the book."

"Cool! Hop in and you can tell me more on the way home."

She grins and runs to her side of the back seat, tossing her turquoise backpack next to her. She buckles in and kicks of her shoes before she begins retelling her day of school, while I drive towards home, stopping for take out on the way.

*********

"Are you okay, Mom?" She asks suddenly during dinner.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine, just thinking about work."

"Just work?"

I let out a sigh.

"I got asked on a date tonight before I left."

She lets out a shriek of excitement and starts bouncing in her seat.

"Was it Eliot? Did you say yes? Please say you said yes !!"

"Yes, it was Eliot, and no, I didn't say yes."

Her excitement fades, making my heart ache.

"But why? You like him a lot. You talk and tell stories about him all the time. You've even drawn him."

"Because it's complicated, love. We work together and it might end badly and mess up the friendship we have. And you. I don't want you to get hurt."

"But you like him!"

" Odette. It's not happening. I'm sorry."

She lets out a dramatic sigh and slumps back in her chair.

It's silent for a few minutes, then she starts telling me about something that happened during the play rehearsal.

*********

The con had been rough to say the least. A mark with trust issues, a head goon who was actually good at his job, and a forged master piece all part of Nate's plan. At least I wasn't a main option grifting or thieving.

Hardison, Parker and I were sitting in a booth while Nate and Sophie talked with the client. I was laughing at something Parker said, when out of the corner of my eye I see the flash of my phone ringing.

My heart drops to my stomach when I read her teacher's name.

"Shit." I mutter as I pick it up to answer.

"What? What's wrong?" Hardison asks as he looks at me concerned.

I ignore him as I put it to my ear.

"Hello? Anne, what's up?"

"Hi, Y/N, I'm calling because of an incident that happened during the field trip today."

"What happened? Is Odette okay?"

"We were at the top of the steps to the second floor of the museum, the kids were a few steps ahead of Rick and I, and her foot slipped on a step. And she fell about four feet to the next landing "

I try to stand, but the table of the booth stops me in my tracks.

"What?"

"I know, it's not the best news. And I feel terrible that it happened but she's ok. A small scrape on her knee and some bruises. I wish it had never happened but it could have been so much worse."

"Are you back at the school? Should I come get her?"

"We are at the school. She asked me to call you to come and get her. She seems ok for the most part, I think it just scared her."

"I'm on my way. I'll be there in twenty."

"Alright, I'll let her know. See you soon."

I pull the phone away from my ear and shove it in my pocket. I grab my stuff, slide from the booth, and head for the door.

" Yo, where you goin'?" Hardison calls after me.

" It's private. Tell the others I had to cut out early."

I head for the door of McRory's trying to dodge people, but failing as I run in to someone, nearly falling on my face.

But a familiar scent of warmth and spices floods my nose as a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist. Eliot.

"Careful, darlin'. Where you off to in such a rush."

"I'm sorry it's hard to explain. I have to go." I say to him as I detangle my self from his arms and rush out the front door.

I make it to my car and toss my bag in the passenger seat, start the engine, and pull out of my spot and head towards the school.

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

I practically run through the school to Odette's class room. I open the door to find her sitting on a beanbag chair with her teacher and a book.

She looks up when I enter, and starts to wiggle to get up. Once on her feet she runs over to me, and I drop to my knees to hug her tight.

"Hey, baby."

"Hi, momma." Her voice muffled by my shoulder.

I pull away from her and look over her arms and see a bruse forming on her upper left arm, some on her leg, and a few scrapes on her knees. I cup her face and kiss her forehead.

"Let's get you home, okay baby?"

She nods, then pulls away to grab her backpack.

I look to her teacher, who is now standing, then walk to give her a quick hug as well.

"Thank you, Anne, for taking care of her."

"You're welcome. I took her to the nurse when we got here, nothing broken, just bumps and bruises."

I offer her my hand, which she takes and holds tight, then we say goodbye to her teacher, and head to the car.

I give her a nod, then turn back to Odette who looks all too ready to go home.

Once she's settled in her seat, I get in as well, and head home.

A few minutes into the drive my phone starts to ring, I answer without looking at the contact.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I just wanted to check in. You flew out of here like a bat outta hell." Eliot grumbles with a concerned tone.

"Yeah. I'm okay. But it's personal. I might be out for a day or two."

" Hardison said it sounded serious. You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, it's just-"

My sentence is interrupted from the back seat, loud enough I know Eliot hears.

"Momma? Can we get pizza for dinner? With olives? Please?"

I glance at her in the rearview, she's barely awake, her eyes heavy and head lulling to the side.

"Sure thing, love." I say to her, receiving a sleepy smile in return.

Eliot is still silent on the other side of the line. I let to go a second longer, then start to speak.

"Look, I have to go. I see you when I see you."

I hear him try to say something, but ignore it and hang up. I know is rude to hang up on someone like that, but he already heard Odette, and it was the only way to not have to answer his questions.

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

As I pull into the driveway, I see Eliot leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed and staring a hole into the ground.

I park next to him and shut the car off. I let out a sigh as he looks at me through the window. I toss my keys in my bag, swing it to my shoulder, open my door to climb out, then shut it quietly so I don't wake Odette.

I walk around to the front of the car and stand a few feet in front of Eliot. We stand in silence, just starring at each other.

"Hi, Eliot."

"That all you got to say. You ran out of the pub, then when I called to check in you brush it off, and then to top it off I hear a kid your car call you mom."

His tone is calm and even, but I know him well enough to know he's boiling under the surface.

" It's complicated, Eliot."

" Is it? Is that what you have been keeping a secret all this time? Why?"

"Because she is my whole world, and if something happened to her because of a job I would never forgive myself."

"Is she the reason you always said no?" His voice quiet and heartbreaking.

I take a step closer to him and cup his face in my hands.

"Eliot. You have no idea how many times I have wanted to say yes to you. How many times I have dreamt about what would happen if I did. But if I take that leap and something happens, it won't be just me who would be heartbroken."

"You think I'd hurt you?"

"Not on purpose. But with the jobs we pull, and the danger we put ourselves in, there are somethings we can't control. And if something happened to you during a job, and you didn't get back up."

I stop short, the lump that had been growing in my throat making it hard to speak. His hands come up to hold my head.

"I get it. I do. But you can't live with that fear forever."

"I know, I just-"

I cut off at the sound of a car door opening, and a sleepy voice calling my name.

I pull my head from Eliot's hands and turn to look at Odette, who looking between us confused and tired at the same time.

"Hey, baby." I hold my arm out to her as I take a step back from Eliot. "Come here, I want you to meet someone."

She walks over to us, never taking her eyes of Eliot. She hugs my waist, and I wrap and arm around her shoulders.

"Odette, this is El-"

" He's Eliot. I recognize him from your drawings." She says with a cheerful tone.

I feel my face heat up as I close my eyes, a low chuckle come from Eliot, causing me to open my eyes.

He's trying to fight a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkle as he looks between Odette and I.

"Not a word."

He raises his hand in surrender, then squats down to be eye level with Odette, offering his hand to her.

"You're right, I'm Eliot. And who might you be?"

" I'm Odette." She says shaking his hand.

"It's good to meet you."

I watch the interaction with a smile on my face. It's going better then I ever could have hoped. My feelings for Eliot growing more intense as he talks to Odette.

Odette's voice pulls me from my thoughts.

"Momma?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Can Eliot stay for supper?"

She has a pleading look in her eyes. I look to Eliot who is already looking at me with a soft smile.

"Sure. You asked for pizza earlier, you still want that?"

"Yes!"

"Alright," I laugh at her excitement, " go get your backpack and we'll go inside."

She lets out a squeak, then runs to the car. I look to Eliot as he stands up.

"Are you sure you want to stay?" I ask him.

"Yeah. I'm sure. I got win her over if I want to date you don't I? You come as a package."

We share a smile, then when Odette comes back with her backpack, we head inside.

Once inside I take Odette to her room to change and to give her a once over my self. She has bruises and scratches all down her side and on her arm and leg. The scrapes all ready treated my the school nurse.

"Oh baby. I'm sorry you have so many bruises. Do they hurt?"

"A little. But not bad, just when I poke them like this."

I watch as she pokes a dark bruise, then flinches. I pull her hands away, and hold them.

"Well don't poke them if they hurt. Why don't you pick out some comfys and get changed. Then we can go make Eliot watch a Disney movie. I don't think he's ever seen one."

She lets out a shocked gasp then runs to her dresser.

I leave her room and walk back to where I left Eliot in the living room. I find him looking at the wall full of photos from the day Odette was born, to one I took at the beginning of the school year.

I watch at he stops at a picture of me holding Odette when she was maybe eight months old, with matching grins on our faces.

"That one is my favorite." I say to him.

He spins around like he got caught looking at something he shouldn't.

"She looks like you."

I nod, walking forward to stand next to him.

"She also looks like my dad." I point to to picture of him and I.

Eliot nods, then takes a breath to say something, but let's it out without a word.

"What? What were you gonna ask?"

"Where's her dad? I don't want to step in anything."

I shake my head, slip my hand into his and give it a squeeze.

"You aren't stepping in anything. He was a one night stand. I don't think he ever even told me his name."

"So you did it all on your own?"

"Pretty much. My family helped as much as they could, and I took as much legit work as I could find, but then when Nate approached and asked for a favor, I said yes. Plus the paycheck was nothing to laugh at."

His face scrunches.

"You knew Nate before you joined the team?"

"Yeah. He and my dad worked together at IYS. My dad left because he couldn't stand Blackwell. But he kept in touch with Nate over the years."

He let's out a huff of a laugh, and shakes his head.

"I ordered a pizza while you were in there."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. Made sure it had olives." He gives me a knowing smile.

"Well then you have won Odette's heart already."

"What about yours?"

"You won that a long time ago." I lean up and press kiss to his cheek.

I pull away when I hear little feet pound down the hallway, into the living room, then she bounces onto the couch.

Soon enough the pizza arrives, and we enjoy dinner in the living room. Eliot and Odette getting along like they've known each other for years, rather then an hour and half at most.

After dinner, and clean up, Eliot tries to leave, but Odette uses her professional puppy eyes get him to give in to her pleas for him to stay.

He finally caves and sits rigid of the couch while Odette diggs through our movie collection, and settling on Lilo and Stitch.

We manage to Eliot to relax, jacket and boots by the door, and sitting on the couch next to me, Odette squeezed between us, and a blanket over the three of us.

I notice Odette stops wiggling half way through the movie. I turn to check on her, and find he asleep, her face pressed into Eliot arm. He looks more relaxed then I have ever seen him in the entire time I've known him.

He turns to look at me and we share a smile.

When the movie is done, I turn it off, then get up and go to scoop Odette to bring her to bed, but Eliot raises a hand to stop me.

"I got her."

He moves slowly, so he doesn't wake her. Cradling her head, then lifting her into his arms resting her head on his shoulder.

I lead him to her room and open the blankets for him to lay her down. He lay's her among the blankets like she's made of glass. I pull the blankets up and tuck her in snugly, press a kiss to her head, then we both creep out of the room, latching the door behind us.

We walk back to the living room, sitting close enough the our legs are touching. He leans his head on the back of the couch, exposing his neck. It's a position I had never seen him in before, probably because it left his neck vulnerable, but it also made me want to kiss his neck. He looks peaceful. Head back, eyes closed, body completely relaxed.

" I can feel you starring."

I breathe out a laugh, then shift to sit on my knees, lean over him, cupping his face in my hand, turning his head gently towards me, the scruff on his cheek is rough against my palm. I lean down and kiss him. I feel him take a deep breath, then his hand comes up to hold the wrist of the hand on his cheek as he kisses me back.

It doesn't last long, but it's enough to take my breath away. When I pull away, he's already looking at me, his blue eyes fulls of confusion and hope.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time." I whisper, rubbing my thumb along his cheek.

" So have I, darlin'. Can I kiss you again?"

I nod, leaning into him again. He wraps and arm around my waist, lifting and dragging me into his lap, wrapping both arms tight around me.

"Can I take you in a date?" He asks, pulling away just enough to mumble against my lips.

I humm in response, then lean in for another kiss.

Time seems to disappear as we sit there, making out like teenagers. We eventually separate, trying to catch our breaths. It's quiet, until he asks something I hoped he'd forgotten about.

" Did you really draw me enough that she could recognize me?"

I let out a groan and drop my head to his shoulder, his laugh ringing through the room.

××××××××××××××××

Eliot Spencer Taglist:

@katbratsupernaturalwhore @fictional-hooman

#leverage #eliot spencer #eliot spencer x reader #christian kane #eliot spencer x oc #leverage fanfic #leverage fanfiction

[my-beloved-lakes]

@leveragetober

Leveragetober 2023

Prompt 8: Museum

After Sophie and Nate retire, Eliot, Hardison and Parker comes to bother them on Christmas and convince them to break into a museum, just for the fun of it. (Under the cut)

Nate sat in his and Sophie's living room watching the snow fall silently outside. Sophie sat next to him flipping through the pages of a magazine.

The Christmas tree was set up, he had his wife by his side, and a warm cup of coffee. Everything was peaceful and exactly the way it should be this Christmas Eve. And of course, there was the added bonus of knowing that Sterling wasn't going to bother him for at least a week, since he was spending his Christmas with his daughter. Nate wasn’t a fan of Christmas, but it usually meant no one would bother him.

Nate jumped when he heard a knock at the door.

"I'll get it." Sophie offered.

"Please tell me it's just carolers."

Even after he had retired, people still showed up at his door from time to time, looking for help getting even with greedy CEOs and the likes. He wasn’t exactly sure how they did it, but he guessed Hardison had something to do with it. Nate didn’t really mind. It only happened occasionally, and they were usually pretty straightforward and easy. It kept him and Sophie from getting bored in their retirement. But it was Christmas eve. He just wanted to relax with his wife.

"Surprise!" He heard Parker shout.

"Aww! How did you guys get here so fast? I thought you were in the middle of a job!" Sophie asked.

"Yeah, a job in Boston." Hardison said. "We decided to leave that detail out so that we could surprise you guys."

"Aww!" Sophie pulled Hardison into a hug, then Parker and Eliot.

Nate sighed and stood up to greet them.

It wouldn't really be Christmas without them.

"Well make yourselves at home." Nate said even though he knew he didn't need to give them permission to. They'd make themselves at home whether he wanted them to or not.

"Did we miss dinner?" Eliot asked.

"No."

"Good! Cuz I got the perfect meal planned." Eliot said, rubbing his hands together with excitement.

Everyone gathered into the dining room to be closer to Eliot as he set to work cooking dinner.

Nate listened contently as Parker and Hardison explained everything they had been up to for the past few months, Eliot occasionally throwing in his two cents from the kitchen. They seemed to be settling into their new responsibilities really well, and Nate was proud of them.

After a while Eliot brought in a couple platters of food and set them on the table.

"Alright, let's eat!" He said.

They all gathered plates and silverware, and Eliot served the food.

***

"You know what we should do?" Parker asked with a sly smile when they had all finished their food.

"Oh no! No, no, no!" Nate said. "I know that look! We're not stealing anything! It's Christmas Eve!"

"I was gonna say we should break into the Boston Museum and put Santa hats and reindeer antlers on all the statues." Parker said.

"Nooo!" Nate moaned.

He had been looking forward to a peaceful evening at home.

"Oh, come on Nate!" Sophie begged.

"You guys can, but I'm staying home."

"No, Nate. It's only fun if everyone comes!" Hardison insisted.

Nate threw his hands up in resignation. He knew he wasn't going to win this one.

***

Eliot checked over his shoulder to make sure none of the other security staff was around, then pushed his janitor cart into a room full of statues. The janitor aliases that Hardison had set up for the two of them was enough to get them inside the museum, but he still had to make sure none of the guards caught them putting hats on the statues. He didn't want to get fired on his first day of work after all… or arrested.

He pulled out a step ladder and climbed up on it to place a Christmas hat on the head of an angel statue, then glanced over at Hardison who was stringing a set of Christmas lights between the hands of another statue, making it look like the statue was decorating for Christmas. Eliot chuckled to himself as he moved on to the next statue.

Sophie climbed out of the janitor cart and started sticking Rudolph noses on the portraits.

"You killed the cameras, so they'll have no idea what happened, right?" Nate asked.

"You dare doubt me?” Hardison scoffed.

Parker lowered herself from the ceiling above one of the statues and pulled out a headband with velvet reindeer antlers on it. She put it on the statue's head then took a minute to admire her handy work.

When the team was all done decorating, Nate waited for everyone to clear the room then stood in the doorway, admiring their decorations. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture before heading for his exit. He would never admit to anyone that he had enjoyed this. That picture would remain a secret forever.

The museum staff would discover the decorations in the morning and there would probably be a news article or two out about it not long after that. Maybe a few camara crews would show up to do a story on it, but no one would ever know how it had happened. People would probably be calling it a Christmas miracle. 

Nate smiled. None of that really mattered though, because he would have this memory to share with his family for the rest of his life. It'd be their little secret.

He would never admit it, but Nate felt the warmth of Christmas spirit building up inside of him as he walked out of that museum.

#leverage #Nate Ford #sophie devereaux #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker #leveragetober #leveragetober 2023 #leverage fanfic

[petcr3]

Perchance to Dream | Eliot Spencer x Reader

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

word count: ~4.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today, though, it’s particularly hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Experiment?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

“Done.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Isn’t it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.” He means it.

“I love you, Eliot.”

“I love you too, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

[fluffypotatey]

Leverage Ep 11 >:3

Pre-game thoughts:

ngl the last episode was a lot of fun! got to see Nate at his breaking point, Sophie being the best (as always), ALEC AND ELIOT DUO!!!!!

also it looks like this one focuses on Parker? (at least, that’s what the blurb says 🤷🏻‍♀️) so praying for more moments for my ot3 🥰 either as duos or altogether, I do not care. just want them to have screen time 

anyway, can’t really think of anything else to add???

I mean, this is the last episode before the 2-parter finale, so I’m curious if this will touch on…..the ✨insurance company✨and that uh Crowley-looking dude (unrelated to GO!Crowley, a show I should also watch)

BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THAT ON WITH THE SHOW ✨ 

Reaction:

ooooooh a flashback 👀

Ok that was not a safe dose

AHHHHHH THE STOVE

NOOOOOOOOO ERNESTO

is he dead?????

oooooooooh team drama 👀

lmaooooo parents (Nate/Sophie) using jury duty as a lesson

“Yeah, I know jury duty, this seems legit” <- has only gone once

OooooOOOoooooOoOooh defendant is wearing colored shades, he must be an asshole 😂

WAIT WHAT

WHO IS FILMING THE CASE???? IS THAT LEGAL????

babe, please step the fuck away from the jury panel. i would not be in favor of you anyways with you standing so close wtf

oop! she knows!!! fuck they’re gonna strike her out 

ok but seriously who are those camera people???? are they even a real legal team???? the ick is strong, I hope they burn this other team to the ground

YES PARKER

CONVINCE THEM

SHUT NATE YOU WERE A SLIMY INSURANCE MAN BEFORE YOU DONT GET TO TALK

everybody giving Nate the stink eye, yesssssssssss 

(You would think, with how much I yell at this man, I hate him, but tis the opposite! Love him. He’s just an asshole, and I would never like him in person, great character <3)

OMFG ALEC BACKSTORY??????

YES PLEASE

NANA YOU BADASS

ELIOT AND PARKER DUOOOOOO

FUCK YES

Lmao he took the beer

literally before clicking play I was like “you know, I don’t think Parker and Eliot have been a duo yet” AND HERE WE GO

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE

nO glasses guy 🫢 was a faker?! <- is not shocked

jfc Alec is good 😍

ok what you doing Parker? oh wait nvm 

Chess???? lmao you nerd

“Hmmmm how do we show an evil character is smart…..I KNOW! Chess!”

ohhhhhh big pharma ok (can’t believe it took me this long)

WAIT WE DOING POISONED APPLE

ugh no we’re not

oh shit bribery????

ELIOT PLAYS CHESS???? you fucking nerd 💕

lmao Parker gets a lesson in social interaction (I’m so sorry, girlie, I’d hate it too, but tbh I also befriended an older lady while at jury duty so same????)

it’s ok Parker you tried your best 🫂

“I have a peanut allergy” <- love you Alec 

Nate, I sure hope you don’t regret that honeypot plan

OHHHHHHHHH oh dear ok now the brownface comments make sense

Ok show’s age has been shown

jfc Sophie wtf please tell me this is the only episode where this happened 

“I’m very spiritual” <- 🤢 god how many times have I heard this

Jesus H Christ I can’t even look at her T^T

awwwww Sophie is helping Parker

ELIOT YOU ARE SO CUTE

HES TRYING

PARKER YOU CUTIE 🥰 

i want Parker and the grandma to be friends. Like best friends

lmaooooooo she’s foreman now (I don’t think I spelled that right)

girlie, you sound like you’re giving the old man a job interview 😂

SHE GONNA BUY OUT THE LAWYER???? 

He won’t

Nate noooooooooo

ALEC

YES

MY BOY

HE LOOKS SO GOOD IN A SUIT

but also shit they are treading the legality there (<- she says even tho they do this every episode)

“Do you trust your government, Ms. Vargas?” ALEC 😂😂😂😂 bringing back the old teachings of being a Jehova Witness i see

WE ARE BARELY HALFWAY?????? (Sorry just looked at the time stamp  what do you mean it’s only been 20 minutes????)

“is that a high school yearbook?” oh my god

Alec, babe, love you, but what

ALEC I LOVE YOU

girlie you could say cauliflower steak

Awwwwwwwwwwww Parker has a friend 🤧🤧🤧🤧

Alec’s headshot is beautiful 

“It all checks out unless [says an example of exactly what Alec did]”

Ooooooh outsource mention 👀 

Nate there are cameras!!!!

“You know why they say, ‘Justice has a blindfold’? Because Justice is asleep” FUCKING DEAD

ok bro this isn’t jury duty anymore this is a trial???? did I miss the part where they finished jury selection 

OH SO HE’S AN ACTOR???

lmaooooo he was Scottish 

Awwwwwwwww Parker 🥺 “she likes rainy days” im fucking sobbing

Ok now that’s why we were only halfway 

“We win the trial” LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO

Hehe Alec has to actually win the trial

“You think lawyers aren’t just pretending and trying to fill in daddy’s shoes” ok, uh, wow 💔 

SHE GOT A BAG LUNCH 🥺🤧

Eliot on another parents trip!!!

wait who is he fighting???? Oh ok

Nate, you look so fucking dumb 😂

*gasp* THAT MEDICAL MAN IS LYING FIGHT HIM ALEC

oh ho ho! bringing up his qualifications I see 👀 why he now only doing cases in Cali 👀

OH HO 👀

HE BROUGHT UP BIN LADEN 👀

GET HIS ASS ALEC! FUCK HIM UP!!! FUCK! HIM! UP!

Alex’s closing statement 👀 omg 🥺 yes babe 🤧 beautiful 💐 take my flowers 💐💐💐💐💐

jfc I’m nervous!!!! I know this will end happy but still!!!! So nervous 🫠

nooooo, she must not figure out 🫠

Oh dear, 

OH YES THEY TURNED OFF THE TV WONDERFUL

lol yesssss girlie, burn that fucking bridge!!!! BURN THE BRIDGE!!!! DIG THAT HOLE!!!!

unrelated but her jacket is super pretty

ok ok here we go. fuck I’m nervous 

YESSSSS LETS GO BITCH

FUCK YEAH MESS WITH THEIR CAMERA

why are you revealing yourself to her????? bro she could find people to get you!!!!

OMG SHE MADE A FRIEND! GET THAT COFFEE

Final Thoughts:

this episode was so much fun!!!! we may not have gotten much of the Parker/Eliot duo but I’m still happy that they got to tag-team! Parker learning how to socialize, be a team player, and lead was just 👌👌👌👌👌👌 wonderful so proud of her T^T Alec was amazing (obviously) and fucking killed both for stalling the case and winning it <3

not as much Nate/Sophie moments besides them acting like parents to their teammates and being a well-oiled machine 😎 so I’m still satisfied! a little disappointed that there wasn’t any hint for the finale but that might just be because of the messed up order again 😔 

overall: wonderful episode, this might be my favorite of the season (tho Miracle Job still has my heart)

#fluffy watches #fluffy reacts #idk which tag I originally chose for this live-blog series #leverage

[somestorythoughts]

Leverage Immortals - Discovery

When it comes to finding out your entire team of good bad guys is immortal, there are a few ways it could go down. I have vague ideas with nothing sticking so I’m gonna write a few instead of one coherent scene.

Sophie doesn’t make it outside of the blast radius this time. For one terrible moment she thinks she’s going to have to fake her death completely, leave her family friends, then she takes a proper look at herself and realizes that while the burns are going to be immensely uncomfortable while they heal it won’t be lethal. The team accepts, however reluctantly, her need to leave to find herself, but they flat out refuse to let her go until she’s healed. It’s a bit annoying, but its also very sweet. But it’s also what clues Eliot and Parker in. Eliot knows bombs. Eliot’s lost count of the number of times he’s gotten bomb-related injuries, no matter how good he’s gotten at disarming them. And Parker? She likes fire and explosives. And while she’s very good at not getting caught in them she’s certainly gotten her fair share of burns. Both of them are surprised to see Sophie’s burns healing at the same rate as theirs. It’s Eliot who says something about it, Eliot who hasn’t befriended an immortal in decades and has a sudden desperate need to share this with someone, and Parker had been unobtrusively near by and joins the conversation. So now those three know about each other. They suggest that Nate is an immortal in that conversation because now they’re thinking about it and it isn’t hard to spot, but they aren’t certain. It takes longer to talk to Nate and Hardison about it  and longer to realize Hardison’s immortal as well.

Eliot’s pretty good at brushing off the team’s worries about his injuries. It soothes him to know that they care, warms him as thoroughly as a hot shower. But he insists on tending to all injuries himself.  And then there’s a job that goes really bad for him and everyone flat out refuses to leave him alone. And to be frank, he’s not really in a condition to refuse them. Everything hurts and sure this isn’t going to kill him but he also can’t really take care of those cuts that are definitely going to need stiches right now.  So Parker stiches up his back and Sophie orders food while Nate makes sure Eliot doesn’t drop his glass of water and Hardison piles ice packs on a leg he’s sure has gotta be at least fractured but Eliot waves him off and he probably knows better right?  Their attention fills Eliot’s aching body with warmth. Later Parker notices how quickly Eliot is back in shape. She prods him into letting her check on the stiches and when he can’t argue a way out of it he grouchily agrees. Nate and Sophie notice too. They aren’t as familiar with these high levels of damage, but they have a gist of their own healing rates and realize Eliot is matching that. It comes out eventually.

Parker notices an assortment of things, namely quick recoveries, and blurts it out in the middle of a team meeting.

But Hardison? There are two ways to find out that you’re immortal and under the circumstances, perhaps it isn’t a surprise that Hardison finds out the violent way. He’s shot in the chest when a job goes too far south. They rush him to the hospital, keeping their panic under control like they have too. What part of Eliot that isn’t focused on keeping Hardison alive is cursing at himself because he should have been there this shouldn’t have happened but he is right there. He has tried, with mixed results, to save a lot of people with punctured lungs. And it is only because of that that Eliot realizes Hardison is healing. “You’re immortal.”  Nate nearly crashes the car. “You too!?” Sophie shouts then yells at Nate to pull  the fuck off the road. It’s a very messy very garbled explanation in the back of the van that doesn’t go further than “Hardison won’t die, everyone in this van is an immortal, wtf” before Nate drives them back to headquarters. Hardison isn’t dying and his breathing is finally back to normal but everything hurts. Nate helps him get the blood off and Parker puts together a pile of cushions on the couch. Eliot is cooking off the stress with all the comfort food he can get his hands on and Sophie’s gone to the store for ice cream because this kind of stress calls for sweets. There’s a long talk that night but it isn’t as long as it could be cause Hardison wants an explanation but he also really wants to nestle into the safety of his family, the comfort of the couch and food, and the relief that he isn’t dead.

#its a lovely day and you are a terrible hacker who's just planted a bomb in a grifters house #leverage immortals au #leverage immortals #leverage team #sophie devereaux #alec hardison #parker #nate ford #eliot spencer

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches and Wizards Job 1-2

More writing! More fanfiction! This one combines two of my loves, the Leverage TV series and The Dresden Files books. It is, as usual for my fanfiction, written at speed, spell-checked only casually. However, this time continuity is a Very Important Thing, so I'm crossing my fingers. Also, since the Dresden writing style is so different from my own, I had someone speed-beta that section solely to check that the 'voice' was right.

The events here take place during Leverage's Season 4, a little after the Hot Potato Job. And at some point before Book 10 of The Dresden Files, but definitely after Book 5. Other than that the timeline's kind of scrungly.

In any case, it's no yet finished, so I don't know how long it's gonna go. It will update once a week here, but it's also up on AO3, where it will update much faster, if you don't wanna wait. Commentary is always appreciated, as would be a cuppa tea.

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Remember: Tumblr has no algorythm. Reblogs give me life.

1-2 + 3-4 + 5-6 + 7-8 + 9-10-11 + 12-13-14 + 15-16 + 17-18-19 + 20-21-22 + 23-24-25 + 26-27-28 + 29-30 + 31-32-33 + 34-35-36 + 37-38 + 39-40-41-42-43

ONE

Nate was fighting a one-man battle that he was very much afraid he was losing.

Boston and its surroundings spoke so very loudly of his childhood and younger years. Of times and memories he wanted very hard to forget. He would have pretended they didn't exist if he'd not been in the habit of being punctiliously honest with himself; he'd spend enough years letting a bottle lie to him.

But the truth was, he'd never hated Boston. It was home. The Common greeted him with familiar sights no matter what the season. He could go anywhere, look up, and know where he was by the sight of a familiar landmark, either the good ol' Pru, the timeless Triangle or the brand new Zakim bridge. He had fond, if mosquito-laden, memories of summers spent listening to either Shakespeare in the Park or sneaking into games at Fenway.

That love was coming back to him, no matter how he fought. He'd have to move soon or he might not be able to move at all, not without bleeding once again.

And yet, on that late summer afternoon, with a chilly sea breeze blowing in from Revere to warn the city that autumn was on its way, he lingered before the Eliot Hotel, and felt comfortable in the sights and sounds of a modern metropolis both like and unlike that of his childhood. He even fancied feeling the thrum of the Green Line trains just under his feet, even though he knew that was unlikely in the extreme. Traffic on Newbury blew past him, at its lowest ebb at the moment.

Nate had a meeting. He didn't like the meeting, he didn't like that he'd been asked to come like an errand boy to someone else's beck and call. At the pub he knew every nook, every cranny, every escape route, every weapon. Here, he knew he was at a disadvantage; worse, he couldn't tell how much of one.

But the name on the invitation had trumped all of that.

He trotted up the steps to the gracious hotel and offered the doorman the invitation. The man in his dapper uniform took it and smiled. "Ah, mister Ford." He opened the door for Nate. "You are expected."

"I'm sure I am," Nate muttered, but he still managed to offer a polite thank you. He was himself, as he always was, curling hair slightly rumpled, suit a little too loose here and there where it could have been better tucked in. He looked like a petty businessman who thought too much of himself and wouldn't see a con until it bit him in the arse.

It was a very good facade, and he only surrendered it for meeting clients.

A pert young lady in the hotel's uniform led him to the door attaching the nearby restaurant to the hotel. She held the door open for him with a bright smile.

And she closed and locked it between them.

The place was dark, the chairs up, shades lowered over the windows. The hours on the door proclaimed that it wouldn't be open for another hour, at least. Nate pursed his lips minutely.

"Hello?" he called out into the gloom.

"Mister Ford," a heavily accented voice replied. "Please excuse me, I am… surprised that you came."

"Well, you've got me curious if nothing else, mister Fedorov," Nate explained mildly, advancing in the dark. At the bar he met a man, a little taller than him, dressed in an custom-tailored three-piece charcoal suit with a very plain gold silk tie. The clothes did an exceptional job of hiding the heavy muscle across the man's shoulders, over his chest and along his arms, as well as the bulge of a gun in an underarm holster. Nate wouldn't have known either was there if he'd not expected they would be.

He had blue eyes and dark, curly hair cut and tousled artfully, and he smelled faintly of a very expensive aftershave only to be purchased in Vladivostok. Freshly shaven, his face was full of sharp, predatory angles. He didn't offer his hand, as if he knew Nate wouldn't take it. Instead he poured two cups from a nearby teapot, and the scent of the tea, heady and strong, filled the space between them. There was a laptop and a slim pile of folders behind the teapot.

Nate had run an extensive background on the man and turned up nothing he didn't already know. Vanya Fedorov was the Chief Financial Officer of a small but profitable cybersecurity start-up with offices in Cambridge, US and Cambridge, UK. He was halfway through his third decade of life, a Vladivostok native, he spoke seven languages fluently, and was a geology hobbyist. He was also third-in-line for the command chain of the Eastern Seaboard Russian mafia, after a meteoric rise to power that had him at loggerheads with his own father, the actual man in charge. He was being watched very closely by the real powers back in the Motherland because his uncle, the second-in-command, had all but tapped him already as the heir of preference. He was ruthless, intelligent, driven, ambitious, and his code of morals, if he actually had any, was known only to him. He was, to sum it up, the sort of man Leverage Inc. took down, not the sort they took on as a client.

And yet, here Nate was, having been summoned by a plea for help from, if not the last man on his list, someone pretty damn close to the bottom. He took the cup with a murmured thanks. "So, why am I here, mister Fedorov?" Before the man could speak, Nate lifted a hand. "Literally. Why."

"Vanya, please, mister Ford." When Nate's brows went up at the offered familiarity, the Russian sighed minutely. "A valid question. Believe me. It hurts that I have to come to an Irishman for help, particularly in this city. Particularly in this matter. But in truth, I am… out of my depth. We," he corrected pointedly, "are out of our depth." And with you and your people's reputation, I can only hope you won't be."

Nate sipped at the tea. "You've got my curiosity, and now you've got my attention. Still don't have my services, though."

Vanya snorted humorlessly, and dragged the laptop over. "Did you hear about the fire in Somerville? That fancy restaurant?"

"I don't think it wise for you to confess to any crimes to me, mister Fedorov," Nate pointed out mildly.

At that the Russian did seem amused, however briefly. "We did not do it, mister Ford. It was done to us." He opened the laptop and tapped a few commands before turning it over so Nate could see the screen, split into four separate camera feeds. Two belonged to the restaurant; the others were outside angles, likely from nearby businesses. "A very important member of the organization, a man in good standing, was throwing a private party, an anniversary celebration for his parents. A small thing, just family and friends."

"His friends, or the family's?"

"It was not business," Vanya persisted.

On the screen, Nate watched as one of the restaurant's cameras, aimed at the delivery area and partially covering the kitchen, was thrown into actinic brightness by a massive fireball. Plumes of black smoke quickly overtook the view of the other camera, at the front of the restaurant.

"You were, I am told, in the insurance business," the Russian said mildly. "You know what you are looking at."

"A firebomb." Nate was working hard at keeping a grimace off his face. No one needed a return to the bad old days where the crime syndicates of Boston fought more or less openly on the streets, not giving a damn who got caught in the crossfire.

Vanya's grin was sharp and thin. "I can smell your worry. Let me assure you, Ford. When I say this was not business, I mean it."

Nate couldn't hide his surprise at that. "It was not the Family?"

"It was none of the players," Vanya expanded, further catching him off-guard. "I have looked at them all. I suspected as much, but I had to do my job."

"You suspected. Why?"

"Because this is the latest in a string of attacks." Vanya slid the folders over to him, all but one. "They are not directed at our business. They are not even directed at one family within the business. But they are targeting us, all the same. Innocents are dying and we, I, cannot stop it happening. I am hoping you can."

Nate sucked in a deep breath as he flicked through the folders. A bridge collapse. An accidental lockdown and halon release in an art gallery. A train crash. The attacks, if that's truly what they were, were all over the place; it would be nearly impossible to find a signature, or any sort of commonality. Like the firebomb, they all looked like accidents.

Nate eyed the folder he hadn't been offered. "You have a suspect."

For the first time in their meeting Fedorov looked uncertain. "I have… something. In truth, I don't know what. Understand this, mister Ford. I like my other job. It is not just a thing on paper for me. I like security. I like technology. That job is the only reason I have found this one common thread binding all the incidents." He opened the last folder for Nate.

A dozen or so blurry pictures stared up at the mastermind. They were all of a woman, older, but that was all he could tell. Not one of the shots managed to catch her in more than broad strokes, as if the camera simply refused to focus. It was her, specifically - everyone else around her was perfectly clear, from the man helping her out of the train's wreckage to the two young teenagers escorting her away from some sort of flash flood.

"Who is she?" When Vanya didn't answer, Nate looked up to find the most profoundly uncomfortable look on the Russian's face. "Fedorov, who is she?"

Vanya shifted minutely. It might as well have been a shriek of alarm from a man in his position. Nate blinked. Waited.

"Baba Yaga."

"Excuse me?"

"I know what it sounds like."

"Really? Because it sounds like you're telling me a fairy did this."

"She's not a fairy. Grandmother is much more than that." Anger sharpened Vanya's accent. "She is a power, a dream, a nightmare. Something older than time." He blew out a sharp breath. "I am a rational man, mister Ford. I understand abstraction, I work in cybersecurity, after all. I do not know what to believe, but I must believe something, and I have nothing else." He stared at the pictures. "Unless you and your people find something else."

"We're not monster hunters, Fedorov."

"Then do not hunt a monster. Hunt me an explanation. Hunt me something that makes sense." The Russian tightened one hand into a fist. "Hunt me something I can stop, so innocents stop dying."

"An odd request from a Russian mob enforcer."

Vanya shrugged mildly. "I am a traditional man, mister Ford. I want a return to the old ways, when we offered real protection, not a pretense of it to extort money. When a man's word was worth something more than the bullets he carries or the pain his hands can inflict."

Nate stared at the pictures, at the videos. On the laptop's screen the first responders had finally arrived.

"What if it is Baba Yaga?" he asked, if only because Vanya had offered it as an option, forcing Nate to add it to the list of possibilities and to know what sort of contingencies Fedorov expected from him.

The Russian visibly paled but rallied swiftly, a half-smile curling up his mouth. "Then I guess we will do all we can to find out why she is angry at us, so we can correct the issue and beg her apologies." He let Nate mull on that. "Have I got your services, mister Ford?"

Nate played restlessly with a breath held in his mouth. There had to be a logical explanation, of course. Just because Fedorov hadn't found it didn't mean it wasn't there. But he couldn't readily see one.

What he did see was a man in a tremendously powerful position within the Boston underworld, interested in maintaining the fragile peace between the syndicates and willing to be in Nate's debt to achieve his goals. The latter alone was worth a lot.

He scooped up the folders. "I'll let you know," he said curtly, heading for the restaurant's front door. He paused with his hand on the knob. "Uh, this is a sushi bar, isn't it?"

"A Japanese restaurant, but they do serve excellent sushi."

"Why here? Why not one of your places?"

Vanya smiled wryly. "Because I no longer dare guarantee their safety, but I have yet to find someone willing to fuck with the Japanese."

TWO

"We're not monster hunters, Nate," Eliot said mildly as he nursed a beer and stared at the array of screens before him.

"I know, but -" Nate flapped his hand distractedly. "Just ignore the, ignore the monster angle, alright? We have someone, or a bunch of someones, who are responsible for fourteen so-called accidents. Someone who's doing such a flawless job that no one's caught up onto the fact that they aren't accidents."

"Flawless is right," Hardison pointed out, pulling up on one of the screens blueprints and reports. "Arson investigation, insurance investigations, police, Interpol, private security firms, they all ruled them accidents. But you put all their reports, all their data together, and some really nasty stuff starts taking shape."

"Ugh." Sophie groaned around her coffee cup. "So clever and instead of going after the actual bad guys they go after their wives, their kids, their parents. I thought that just wasn't done."

"It isn't," Eliot confirmed. "Few universal rules in organized crime, but that one's the second biggest: don't target innocents."

"What's the first?" Parker asked.

"Don't talk to the cops," Eliot, Sophie and Nate all replied at the same time.

The team crossed a look, equal parts surprise and amusement.

"I'm not even in organized crime and I know that one," Parker admitted.

"The point," Nate fought to herd the cats back together, "is that this is happening, it's affecting innocents, and it needs to stop. This isn't like one of our usual jobs, obviously, so I do have to ask: are we taking it?"

There was silence.

"I don't know, Nate, I don't like it," Eliot said at last. "Yeah, there were bystanders in at least half those places. There's no way there weren't a few innocent people on that train, or the nitrogen spill in Kuala Lumpur. But if the frigging Russian mob can't pin it down, someone else needs to step up and do the job, yes - I just can't see what the job actually is."

"There's nothing to steal," Parker protested.

"Nothing to hack," Hardison added. "All of these 'accidents' were mechanical in nature. Analog. Even the halon release was a faulty piece of equipment, not software failure. That alone is hinky as hell, halon tech isn't new but it's not old, either, but…" He threw his hands up helplessly.

"Nothing to con." Sophie shrugged gracefully. "Even this woman Fedorov thinks is Baba Yaga, who is she? A victim, the criminal, a bystander, the target?"

"I'd be happy with just being able to see her face," Nate muttered, staring at the collection of blurry pictures on one of the screens.

"I can do that much," Hardison perked up. When everyone's attention came to rest on him, he beamed at them. "Fourteen pictures, that's more than enough to create a composite." His hands flew over the keyboard, and on the screen the fourteen pictures began to spin sedately in orbit around a blank canvas that began to fill up with gradients of gray almost immediately. "She's probably using jamming tech."

"To look… to look blurry?" Eliot blinked at him. "That's only for the movies, isn't it?"

Hardison gave him such a look before returning his attention to the screen. "You know that quote from Clarke, 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is -'"

"'-indistinguishable from magic." Both Eliot and Hardison finished the quote together; Sophie, unseen to anyone but Nate, mouthed the words soundlessly and threw him a chipper little smile. "Yeah, but Hardison -"

"If you've got a smartphone you're carrying enough computing power in your pocket to out-compute anything that's twenty years old. For the record, that includes the first Playstation console and the second."

Eliot frowned, a hand automatically going to his pocket. "I thought you'd just souped up our phones."

"Well, I did that, too," Hardison admitted, typing more commands into his keyboard and staring at the increasingly refined composite on the screen. "Just didn't have to, in the case of some people." He looked meaningfully at Nate, who felt once again as if he had to defend himself from a crime he hadn't committed, or might not even be a crime altogether. "Do something with your phone, man."

"I make calls. I take pictures!" Nate protested.

Hardison rolled his eyes.

"It can play music," Sophie suggested mildly.

"So can the radio in my car," Nate grumbled.

"Nate, I am begging you. Hack something," Hardison pleaded. "Live a little." Before Nate could answer, the hacker stood up and straightened up. "Almost done -"

They all turned to look at the screen, so they were all facing it when it cracked from top to bottom with a sound like a grenade going off, showers of sparks flying in every direction. A massive puff of smoke belched out, and delicate circuitry began to drip out of the blackened guts of the screen, hissing as it struck the floor.

Cautiously, heads peeked up from behind wherever they'd ducked. A fire alarm was screeching shrilly. The loft reeked of molten electronic components. The screen had gone black. A piece of tempered glass fell off and shattered on the floor, making them all jump.

"Um," Hardison said in the silence.

"Hardison!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"It's your equipment!"

"And my equipment doesn't just blow up for no good reason!"

Eliot had no counter for that because he knew, they all knew, that it was true.

"She really is Baba Yaga," Parker breathed.

"Parker, no, just -" Nate pinched the bridge of his nose. "She's not real, alright? Baba Yaga's not real."

"Well, how do you know?" she challenged.

"Yeah, Nate, how do you know?" Sophie, ever willing to be the devil's advocate, echoed.

"I -!" He sighed in exasperation. "She's just not, alright? Can we please move on? Hardison, did you get the finished composite?"

"She's an evil Tooth Fairy, Parker," Eliot whispered to the thief.

"Not the finished one, but a few stages shy of it." Hardison printed out a single sheet of paper and began typing all over again. Somewhere in the guts of the building, heavy fans began to work. The fire alarm fell mercifully silent.

"The Tooth Fairy's not real, Eliot," Parker told him with great kindness, startling the hell out of the hitter.

Eliot sputtered for a moment. "How would you - you don't - how d'you know that?"

Parker had very vivid memories of being told to put her first tooth under her pillow, to have it exchanged for cold hard cash. She had equally vivid memories of feeling a hand sneaking up under her pillow and reacting to defend her property by snatching for a wrist, grabbing for a thumb, and twisting. Hard. "She's just not. It's just your parents." She charged over to where Nate was examining the printout. "I wanna see what Baba Yaga looks like."

"Parker, she's not -" Nate found the printout snatched out of his hands.

"Well, now we have to take the job," Sophie told him quietly. "Or she really will believe Baba Yaga's r-"

"Wait, this isn't Baba Yaga!" Parker protested, her tone betrayed. "This is just the old lady in the museum."

"The what?" Sophie asked blankly.

"In the where?" Nate added.

Hardison got a fire extinguisher.

"The old lady in the painting at the Isabella Gardner Museum," Parker explained.

"There's a painting of this woman at the Gardner Museum?" Nate demanded.

"Mm-hm."

"You went to a museum?" Sophie was stunned. "To actually look at the paintings, not to steal them?"

Parker nodded and beamed. "I have a lifetime membership."

"A… lifetime memb- how?"

"You know when someone stole all those paintings from them way back and they couldn't figure out who and they never recovered them?"

"That was you?"

"No, that was Astrid Somerset and her boyfriend -"

"Somerset, of the Arlington Somersets?" Nate asked, a little taken aback.

Unsurprisingly, he got a shrug and a vague noise in response; Parker didn't care about the woman's pedigree, only her technique. "Lousy thief. Horrible little snob," she growled, then beamed again. "So I stole back the one she hadn't sold yet and gave it back to the museum. And I've been working with them to improve security." Her smile turned mischievous. "You want me to get you in?"

Nate opened his mouth, thought better of it. "Hardison, you've got things here?"

Hardison and Eliot were taking down the neatly parted halves of the screen. The hitter looked nothing if not horrified when he pulled the heavy bit of tech away from the wall and overheated cables stretched gooeily after it like taffy.

"Yeah, we got this, man." Belatedly, as the other three walked away, Hardison called after them. "Nate, take pictures!"

#leverage #nate ford #sophie devereaux #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker #the dresden files #harry dresden #urban fantasy #violence #language

[alinaandalion]

👀 (if you're still sharing snippets)

from a nonlinear fic i've been poking at for years where sophie's past comes back to haunt the team:

She could feel him studying her as if he didn’t quite believe her when she said she was fine, so she finally sighed and conceded.

“Okay, so I might have a bit of a bruise from Hardison’s explosive material,” she said with a roll of her eyes.  “But Eliot already checked me over and it’s nothing serious, Nate.”

“Show me,” he said, putting his glass down on the coffee table and scooting across the couch to sit right beside her.

She raised an eyebrow.  “What?”

“Show me,” and this time his tone was more demanding, and he definitely had to be drunk since he was reaching toward her like he meant to unzip her dress himself.

“Okay.”  She shifted a bit, uncurling her legs and settling her feet on the floor as she reached her hands back and pulled the zipper midway down her back, just enough to slip the sleeve off her left shoulder.

Which she did, looking away when Nate bent closer, fingers brushing against her skin just to the right of the purpling bruise.  She winced from the contact, more out of surprise than any actual discomfort, and to her shock, Nate didn’t pull away, just moved his hand to curl around her bare shoulder.

She looked up at him then, and in between the whiskey dimming her good sense and the lingering heady adrenaline from their success, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his.  It wasn’t a proper kiss, merely an invitation that she waited a moment to see if he would take her up on.  He didn’t move, forehead wrinkling as he stared down at her, and just as she started to regret her impulsive move, he tucked his right forefinger under her chin and kissed her properly.

They started slow, almost timid, but they had the time.  But then she felt his tongue press against her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth, hands coming up to rake through his messy curls as he pressed her against the couch.

and...an extra little snippet from that same harry fic, just for you:

Later, when they’re walking through the Ogden Museum, Maggie asks, “Exactly how much do you know about my relationship with the others?”

Harry pauses, a little surprised that it’s taken until now to come up, and he says, “Honestly, not that much.  I didn’t even know you were Nate’s ex-wife until I made the wrong assumption.”

“Sophie told me about that,” she says with a small laugh.  “And after you found that out?”

“I didn’t really want to pry,” he says even as he looks away.  “I only know a little bit about Nate’s past before them, and that’s because I went looking for it because I was trying to figure them out.  Anything else, well.  I ask if they start talking about something I don’t understand, but that doesn’t mean they actually explain half the time.”

Maggie’s expression changes to something he’s seen on Sophie’s face a lot in the past year, part fondness, part grief, and she says, “Well, they come by that honestly, at least.”

“So I’ve heard,” he replies with a slight smile.  He hesitates, for a moment, then dives in.  “If you want to talk about it, we can.”

Maggie nods and looks away for a moment before saying, “I don’t know if I’ve ever really talked about it with anyone before.  It seems odd, but the others, they were so used to being around Nate that they knew him and enough of the story.  And I also always felt that they didn’t quite know what to say.”

“It’s different when you don’t have kids yourself,” Harry says quietly, thinking of the team and how little they’ve asked about Becky.  Enough to be aware of what’s happening but still insistent on keeping a wide distance.  “Not bad, but different.”

ask post is here

#ask meme #fanfiction #my writing #leverage #leverage redemption #leverage: redemption #sophie devereaux #nate ford #harry wilson #maggie collins

[copperbadge]

You know, thinking about it, I imagine the Leverage crew are pretty philanthropic. Parker might have had to be introduced to the concept (”You just give them money and they go away with it? How does that work?”) but probably once she got her head around it she’d be into it. 

What gets me is how god damned frustrating it would be to work somewhere that one of the Leverage crew supports. Nate would be okay, he’d just make small monthly gifts to ten million different organizations so that nobody thinks he’s worth very much (he doesn’t own his home and he gives such small amounts monthly that Development writes him off as an earnest but low-capacity donor who should get a thank-you card around the holidays). It’s probably a bigger inconvenience to him because he’s on every nonprofit mailing list known to man. He has so many address labels, guys. (I don’t want to be Nate but I am Nate. I have so many address labels.)

Sophie I imagine has an extravagant alias for every charity she supports; she gives outrageous amounts and in return demands only attention and adulation, tickets to all the galas, and to be in at least one photo in every annual report. We have a donor like this -- she’s genuinely invested in our work, gives generously of her time and money, is never rude or demanding, but if she’s in the room all eyes must be on her at all times. I actually really like her but constant exposure could get...tiring. 

Eliot just sends enormous, anonymous checks once a year through a shell company or DAF, which while not unusual would be irritating in that they can’t ever reach out to thank him and/or steward him into a larger gift appealing to his interests. They can’t even send him dumb swag! He deserves a charity-branded bottle opener and keychain flashlight! (He has stolen all of Nate’s, but they don’t know that.) Still, they’ve probably got a fun nickname for him; I have a few people in my research files who are simply named after characters from Greek mythology because that’s all the data I have or am allowed to store. 

For a long time Hardison just dumped money into the bank accounts of his charities of choice, seamlessly, invisibly -- it just APPEARED in the account, and he was cool with that until he checked back after a few years and found none of his money was being used because they couldn’t figure out where it was coming from and were worried it was a clerical error despite the bank assuring them otherwise. Now he still dumps money into the accounts but he entertains himself building an elaborate digital paper trail so that the accounting all works. Have you ever watched a Gift Processing office try to balance a nonprofit’s books? Sometimes they cry! Don’t be mean to them, Hardison. 

Parker, bless her heart, just leaves bags of money on the doorsteps of random employees with notes directing how, in general terms, it should be spent. If she’s particularly pleased with the climbability of their home, she leaves a donut for them, too. Generally if she mentions she’s done this to the crew, Eliot calls up the charity to assure them that the large bag of cash was a legitimate donation and is not some kind of money-laundering scam. (That was ONE TIME Eliot, and the IRS didn’t even NOTICE.) This happened to me once. A tiny old lady in a Cubs jacket showed up to our office with a backpack full of money and it was a very intense morning. 

Anyway, what I’m saying is that every year, across the span of roughly two weeks, Hardison’s Nana’s church gets their regular $25 check from that nice Mr. Ford, a visit from the very devout but slightly weird Madam Sofia who wants a private choir recital, an enormous check from a bank in the Bahamas with no name attached, a large direct deposit from a heretofore-undiscovered bond the church invested in a decade ago, and a large bag of cash with a dozen donuts on it and a note reading THANK YOU FOR THE NEW ROOF IT WAS VERY SLIPPERY AND FUN. PLEASE BUY STUFFED ANIMALS FOR CHILDREN WHO NEED STUFFED ANIMALS. 

#leverage #charitable giving #philanthropy

[faorism]

(some/all of this will be going into my current wip coming out soon but i need to riff for a sec about leverage international deciding to actually consider their hitters' limits. significant contributions from my bud cecil.)

there won't be another eliot spencer.

for a lot of reasons, obviously. perfection was achieved early with that hot piece of punchy hands eye candy, and it's hard to become a boogeyman when eliot's name is already a whisper in the night. but there won't be another eliot spencer because leverage international does not fucking allow shit like the (un)knowing exploitation of a hitters body anymore. there won't be another hitter spending their retirement with pains that wont go away and mornings they can't get up and a fog in their brain that steals memories and thoughts and words with the precision of a thief, but these are stolen objects not even the best retrieval specialists could ever bring back.

there won't be another eliot spencer, not under parker and alec's watch.

masterminds (or whatever they decide to call their point) have to budget field time for hitters. as such, teams usually have at least two, so no one is doing consecutive jobs or working after a bad hit. hitters join a team and their masterminds must have a proposal to parker within the year of what alternative role hitters will be trained for over time. eight years is the absolute limit for hitter only assignments, four after that for mixed roles inclusive of hitter, but those twelve years total is pushing it to the very max.

theres no private hot nurses you pretend are just a hook up and are rly actual nurses. theres a league of health care professionals recruited to help. they are better trained than typical US health care orders. no "black people feel less pain/have stronger bones/extra muscles" or "women complain more/have a lower pain tolerance" bullshit in their medical network. no gender essentialism bullshit about bodies or transphobic language or practices. therapy aint mandatory but damn is it recommended hard.

the episode in 2.0 with the woman whose cop ex stalked her planted a seed. like, fuck why dont we check in. and even if there's not an active bad guy doing shit,, getting your life together and recovering from the trauma of victimization? that is hard.

leverage international becomes an ecosystem.

social worker has a bad taste in parkers mouth, so they call it something else. people who care. people who will check in. you are part of our protection forever like let's change the world. you guys are the good guys and can do things we can't imagine. so we are going to make sure you can do your thing, because theres only so much of an arms race we can do with bad guys vs bad guys.

truly an arms race: if it was nate's leverage international, they would be running fire through the world and taking down every fucker around and itll be warfare, as eliot says in the finale of 1.0. and that's how it starts with just them three but idk they didnt have to live like that. they shouldn't, and they teach others they shouldnt either. because how many bad guy security folks are told they have to start hitting harder & bring bigger guns, but they weren't so sure about this job to begin with, and maybe now is a good exit time? and then they end up on leverage's payroll instead.

nate would be disappointed about how slowly they are taking own the bad guys with so many people involved.

but nate would never have come up with this in all his plans. this kind of collaboration just wasn't in his alphabet. because as @july-19th-club argued so well, god love that ornery bastard but nate? nate never had that vision, you know? because this truly an extension of hardison's love. alec is here to make the world a better shelter for those he loves.

and by bre's time, recognition has shifted to "actually, this isn't just the scaled up adult version of a bully on the playground. this is the system. they have a network. we need to build our own."

the jobs are slower and paced because (1) the bad guys are spooked because the fuck is going on why cant anyone keep their money why is everyone going to actual jail; (2) their hitters are getting more ruthless; (3) leverage is like trying not to destroy their crews thru exhaustion; and (4) Plan Fucking Ms are goddamn unacceptable like the fuck nate thr fuck,,, parkers three jobs in tryna run leverage like nate and like how did you joke about that how do you have so casually in your brain like, oh yeah hardison the """"weak"""" one dies.

people are going to get hurt and die, because what they do is dangerous and you cannot account for it all and no one can replicate the magic skill/luck that was working with the OG leverage crew. but. but. if they need to scale back and slow down and have bigger teams and more training or whatever to protect their fucking family then fuck it. that's what they will fucking do.

there won't be another eliot spencer, but he will always be remembered. known. but the legacy of eliots work is not that he was an indestructible force. but the knowledge that every life is sacred and to be protected, not just the ppl you are putting your body in front of to defend but also yourself. and thats? thats love. thats a world truly changing and changed.

#eliot spencer #parker leverage #alec hardison #leverage #leverage redemption spoilers #leverage international #faorism meta #of hearth and home and other promises #faorism work

[dame-c]

Hardison Appreciation Post This boy works hard for the team and deserves some recognition for it. Not only is he the hacker, but he is also the forger. We see this most explicitly in the Miracle job, Season 1 finally and the King George Job, where he sculpted the replacement St Nick statue, the fake David's and the diary. But he also does all their photo shopping and video editing (He and Parker seem to split the actual photography, as they are the 2 best at fine arts on the team). My understanding of video editing is that there is a lot of rendering time which he can use to multi-task, but even considering that, he said he spent 13 hours making that Japanese commercial of Eliot the baseball player (adhd priorities are not always good priorities). He makes all their disguises (he has canonical said that he sews the FBI jackets himself... yay cosplay skills). And all their fake IDs and badges. Between jobs he does things like find most of their clients on the web. He does preliminary veting before Nate even talks to them. He maintains a number of fake personas for all of them including paper trails and social media accounts. Even using bots and scripts, this does take so time, and he would have to check things to make sure the bots don't go off the rail. (Alice White and Sophie/Eliot in the hot potato job) He maintains the business and financial side of their fronts/businesses (Leverage Inc and the Brewpub). You can automate a lot, but not everything. He builds and/or programs most of their tech (ear buds, tiny metal detectors, custom phone apps, emp gun, Parker 2000, etc). For a job he does all the research and puts together the presentations for Nate or who ever is masterminding. He builds any fake identities that they need that he can't repurpose from one he is already made and any new cover stories, last minute businesses or social media. Like for the wine blog or daddy blog in season 5 even if he built the sites using WordPress and articles plagiarized from other places (and we know he writes at least some of the content himself) he needs to at least given everything a quick fix up in case one of the collateral people goes more than a page or 2 in (mommy blogger could have blown up in their faces about the ) While on the job, even if he isn't helping with the grifting or theft he is hacking, monitoring video feeds and radio chatter. And providing misc support and research for the other team members. Often when he is helping with the grifting or theft, he then has to play catch up all night to get the other tech stuff done in time for the next day. And after the job is finished he isn't. He has to do all the clean up. Remove these one off social media pages, blogs, and businesses. Scrub any footage of them and suppress social media/forum chatter (like when they make Eliot or Sophie famous) he can run bots to help with this, but again there will be manual work too. And he will have to keep the bots running all the time in case some one is like "oh hey. check his video I took at a chocolate festival last year." In conclusion, my precious adhd genius very likely doesn't get any sleep when they do short intense cons and probably crashes and sleeps for 18 hrs straight.

#dame-c #Alec Hardison #leverage #adhd alec hardison #hacker

[fablesrose]

Ch 2 - The First David Job

Masterlist

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Words: 2273

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

I’ll be the first to admit that I wasn’t one to jump at a party, but one every once in a while was nice. And one as beautiful as this? Sometimes you just can’t let the opportunity slip by. The air was warm and the drinks were cold. The decor sparkled in the dim light. 

I kept my arm linked with Maggie’s or at least close by for most of the night. This was a high end place, and while I was technically perfectly welcome as a plus one, I still did not want to be caught alone when I knew no one else. Personally at least. I had met the host, Ian Blackpoole, a couple of times in passing as he was Nate’s previous boss, but that hardly counts. In fact, it was a little strange to be there without Nate. I wondered how he was doing.

One of my hands smoothed my dress down my body as I noticed the two of us occasionally caught some eyes. The dress was easily one of the most beautiful articles of clothing I owned now, thanks to Maggie helping me pick it out yesterday when we went dress shopping. I wasn’t totally used to getting even this much attention from strangers. 

Eventually, as I noticed Maggie’s and my drinks were running dry, a handsome man with glasses and long hair pulled back came with three flutes of champagne. 

“Beautiful ladies such as yourselves shouldn’t have to grab your own drinks,” he had a slight southern charm about him as he smiled and offered the glasses to us. Something about his voice tickled the back of my brain as if I had heard it before, but I had no idea where that could have been, so I didn’t think about it too much. 

I quickly grabbed Maggie’s empty glass and handed hers and my own to a passing waiter before taking the glass from the man with a slight smile. My fingers brushed against his in the process and I noticed how warm his hands were. 

“My name’s Adam, Adam Sinclair. May I ask who you lovely ladies are? I assume you came together, friends?”

Maggie laughed, “That is flattering. I’m Maggie, this is my niece y/n.”

I smiled softly as she introduced me as her niece, and giggled a little when I noticed Adam’s slightly shocked face. 

“Niece? I never would have guessed.”

We chatted for a while, mostly about our jobs and what brought us to the party. I was impressed as I noticed he gave almost equal attention to the both of us. Maggie may have been fifteen years my senior, but definitely didn’t look it, plus she was gorgeous. I knew she would never leave me hanging, but I would not have blamed any man here for vying for her attention over mine. 

Adam paused and turned away from us for a second, it looked like he was checking the time and muttered to himself before turning back to us. 

“Actually ladies, I have to go meet someone… Would you like to accompany me?”

After we agreed he escorted us across the party to a couple of people. One of them was Blackpoole, and there was someone else raising his voice to him.

“I’m drunk, I’m broke, I’m livin’ out of my car! I-I just want the paycheck, and at this point I don’t care where it comes from.”

“Nate?” Maggie spoke first, as I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

He turned around and his eyes widened and flipped from Maggie to me and back, “Maggie? Y/n?”

“You guys know each other?” Adam looked between the three of us nervously.

“Of course,” Blackpoole interjected, “Maggie is Nate’s ex-wife, y/n is his niece.”

“Ohh…”

I was the first to move as I went up and hugged Nate. I didn’t say anything as I could smell the alcohol on him. He hesitantly hugged back before pulling me away so he could look at me better. He had a tight expression as he quickly snapped to Adam and introduced himself.

Adam stumbled a bit as he shook his hand saying his own name, “That’s a mighty fine grip you have there Mr. Ford.”

There was a woman who stood next to Blackpoole. I only noticed her when she stepped forward interrupting the awkward moment between Nate and Adam.

“Signoras Ford-”

Maggie stopped her “Collins, I use my maiden name. Y/n here is the only Ms. Ford.”

I noticed Nate staring at Maggie as she said so. I watched the Italian woman pry Adam’s and Nate’s hands apart.

“Scusi, you mind if I borrow Professor Sinclair for a moment. Yes, we must talk to Mr. Blackpoole.”

“Of course,” Maggie replied. 

The three of them, Blackpoole, Adam, and the Italian lady walked away briskly leaving the three of us, Nate, Maggie, and I alone. 

“Maggie, y/n, what are you doing here?” He looked at Maggie directly, “Why are you working for him?”

“I’m not, I’m under contract with this museum. I’m just helping him set up this exhibit. I thought y/n might be interested, so I invited her.”

Nate looked bothered all the same at her answer. 

“Nate,” Maggie brought his attention back to herself, “I heard what you were saying before. I had no idea things were so awful for you.”

I finally spoke up, “What happened to that job you were working? The consulting agency? I thought you were really enjoying it…”

“Oh no no no,” He looked at me for a second, “uh… It’s been hard… business declined more than expected…”

“Oh Nate, I’m sorry.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed it comfortingly. 

Maggie added, “You should have called me, I would have given you money.”

“I don’t need money!” Nate did that strange pause again, “I need money. I mean, I just need this deal.”

I watched as Maggie contemplated for a moment, “Well then let's go get it.” She turned towards where the others went and quickly strode over. 

Nate sputtered next to me as I called, “Maggie? What are you doing?” I nervously chased after her, letting go of Nate's hand in the process.

“What’s Nate here for?” Maggie instantly interjected herself into the conversation.

“It’s an art sale, but it’s private,” Blackpoole responded.

“I’ll verify the art.”

I tugged at her arm and whispered, “Maggie…” I admired her boldness at times, but the tension of this situation counteracted it.

The Italian woman smiled tightly with a laugh, “Scusi, no, we agreed, uh, no outside people.”

“No no no, uh, no, that’s alright.” Blackwell interrupted, “I’ve been a little hesitant… No offense, but I don’t know you that well,” he said to Adam who stood next to him. 

“But you know me, you know my reputation.”

I took a step back, clearly she knew what she wanted. I glanced at Nate who stood next to me, he had a slightly frustrated yet anxious look.

“If my presence will help you close the deal, then I’m in,” Maggie continued. 

“Agreed,” Blackpoole responded. “My one condition, Maggie examines the sculpture or I walk.”

Nate nodded after a moment, “Agreed, I’ll get some drinks and we’ll celebrate.”

“I’ll help you Signor Ford.” 

The two of them walked away. I contemplated going with them or stepping up into the circle with Maggie, Adam, and Blackpoole. I decided on a third option of heading to the bathroom to escape the anxious atmosphere around me. The craziness of seeing Nate doing so poorly and the tension between him and Maggie just became a bit too much. I quickly whispered into her ear where I was going and took my leave. 

On the way to the bathroom I took a glass of water with me. I entered the bathroom and sighed in relief when I saw it was empty. I sipped the water as I made sure to take deep breaths. I wanted to rub my hands across my face and through my hair, but I worked hard on my hair and makeup. I didn’t want to mess it up. I resorted to rubbing and scratching my temples and around my hairline. I don’t know how long I was in there, but once I finished my water and felt that I was relaxed enough to go out there again I ventured back to the party. 

I finally found Maggie who was exchanging her number with Adam saying, “I’ll let you know when we can discuss the piece.” I let my eyes wander before I reached her, seeing that Nate was a little ways away. 

“Are you sure you are going to be okay Nate?” I asked when I approached him. 

He looked at me and I could see him biting the inside of his lip, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Once this deal is done…” he lowered his head as if in shame.

“Uh, speaking of which, would it… would it be okay if I tagged along? I was going to fly back to Boston tomorrow, but I can move it, stick around for a bit?”

Nate raised his eyebrow, “why-why would you want to do that?”

I rolled my eyes, “Because I care about you? I was actually gonna call you when I got here, but my calls wouldn’t go through to see if we could meet up. And, I like seeing you guys work, it's different from what I do, I’m on my computer all day. Booorrriinngg!”

That got Nate to smile for the first time I had seen tonight, “I know someone who would disagree with you on computers being boring, but uh, yeah, you can come along, you sound like a kid when you say that.”

“Well, they must do more exciting things than me. It can be like bring your kid to work day all over again. It’ll be fun.”

“Sure.”

Adam slipped into our conversation quickly, “It was nice to meet you Mr. Ford, I look forward to working with you.” He shook Nate’s hand before turning to me, “Y/n, Ms. Ford, excuse me… It's been a pleasure.” 

He took the fingers of my hand and raised it a little, bowing his head before turning and leaving the party. My eyes followed him for a second before turning back to Nate who had a scowl, also watching him. 

“Need I remind you that I am like, twenty seven?”

He turned his head towards me, “Doesn’t matter.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it, “I better get going, I’ll- I’ll see you later.”

I smiled and nodded before turning back towards where Maggie stood, watching us for a moment. 

“How’d it go?” she asked when I reached her.

“Well, I think. I must say, while I don’t entirely approve of your methods, I want to see this deal through too, so it looks like I’ll be staying a bit longer.”

She smiled and hooked her arm with mine, “Perfect.”

—--

“What was that?!” Nate yelled at Eliot once they got back to the office.

“Look, I’m sorry your ex wife gave me her number, its just to coordinate-”

“And my niece?”

“I didn’t even know you had a niece until tonight! I was just trying to be polite!”

“Yeah, well, I raised her, pretty much. I didn’t want her involved.”

Sophie commented, “Well she’s involved now, don’t think we didn’t hear that you are letting her come.”

Nate rubbed his hand over his face, “I’ll work it out…”

—

Maggie and I pulled up to the airport where the deal was going to take place. 

“Are you ready?”

I looked at her, “Of course.”

We exited the vehicle as Blackpoole arrived and greeted us. We walked in to see Nate and Adam already there. Greetings were brief before Nate was called up to the receptionist who told us to head on through. Adam smiled at me, letting me pass in front as he took the rear of the group.

When we approached the door of the hanger, the presumed seller exited a small plane that pulled up. I placed myself in an observing position, watching Maggie and Adam study the small statue as the seller and Blackpoole spoke to each other. 

“It’s a dead ringer for the first David you own. Caste off the same mold.” Maggie told Blackpoole. She looked at Nate and then me before turning back to the business man. “It’s real.”

I smiled and nudged Nate with my shoulder as everyone seemed to celebrate just a little bit. 

I let Maggie talk to Nate on the way out, discussing the good old days it sounded like. Adam walked me out behind them.

“You seem to really know your stuff Professor.”

“Please, no need for titles Ms. Ford.”

I smiled at him, “Then call me y/n.”

We reached the foyer of the airport when Adam turned to face me, “It was a pleasure to see you again, y/n.”

“The pleasure was mine.”

He gave me a grin before exiting the building.

I walked up to Nate, “I found a client here in LA, so I think I will stick around for a bit, maybe until after the exhibit opens. Let me know if you want to meet up, or need help getting your ducks in a row again.”

He nodded to himself, “You staying with Maggie then?”

“Probably, unless she kicks me out,” I laughed. 

“I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks Nate,” I patted his arm before heading to Maggie’s car and left. 

I turned around in my seat just in time to see Nate punch Blackpoole in the face.

Classic.

Tags: @isoldeahlstrom

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

[innytoes]

For the au ask game: leverage (any characters / pairings), groundhog day au

It took Parker a few days to notice. Not because she was sloppy, but because she'd already been bored. The team was off for a week or two while Eliot's shoulder healed up, so she'd stayed in her warehouse, plotting her next heist. This was mostly just staring at maps and going through the motions in her mind, drawing on the clear board, and then doing some light stretching and flipping and rig-testing and tidying before going back to bed.

She only really noticed after she’d successfully stolen the pink diamond from the museum, and the next morning it wasn’t there. And none of her security systems had been triggered, and there wasn’t any footage of her even coming back yesterday. And when she went to check, the diamond was back in the museum!

Nobody was that good. Nobody could grab the heart-shaped diamond right off her pillow where she’d put it down to stare at until she fell asleep, and take it back to the museum without waking her up or tripping any alarms. (Not the museum’s alarms, of course, those were easy, but Parker’s own.)

So she did the most logical thing. She went to Nate’s and talked to Hardison. He was pretty much on board the moment she explained what was going on, after a few halfhearted ‘are you sure you didn’t just dream you’d already stolen it’ questions. He seemed pretty excited about the whole thing. He even told her about the code word he and some of his foster siblings had made up for just this kind of situation.

That made things a lot easier the following days. It shaved at least an hour off her time. After three days, she finally managed to convince Nate to tell her something that she could only know if he told her, and then Sophie and Eliot too. (Nate’s was sad, Sophie’s had to do with her past, and Eliot shouted at her every time she repeated ‘you like the way Hardison’s cologne smells’ out loud in front of everyone, but it did the trick.)

Even with all the time she saved, it still took another two week for them to figure out what the hell was going on. In that time, she’d saved Hardison from knocking over his orange soda twelve times (the rest of the time she just let him spill it, because the way he pulled his shirt up to reveal his abs made Eliot go all flustered and sometimes that was the only entertainment she got that day). She’d had a talk with Sophie about her feelings twice, before learning to never let her corner her in the kitchen so she’d waste time. She’d gotten Nate up to speed quicker every time, and Eliot...

Well, it took a lot of days and a lot of trial and error, but she finally found the right words to tell him that she and Hardison were crazy in love with him and they kind of thought he was in love with them too. It was tearful, it was emotional, there was minimal pinning him down so he would listen after the first four tries.

The most annoying part was that after they finally, finally all kissed... she woke up in her warehouse, the pink diamond gleaming on her pillow next to her.

“Are you kidding me?” she whispered angrily. “I’m putting you back in the museum myself!” She paused. “And then I’m talking to Eliot.”

#leverage #HardisonxParkerxEliot #fanfic #I wrote a thing #guess who's never seen groundhog day #these au prompts really reveal the gaps in my pop culture knowledge

[fandomfoodiedancer]

The stitch up job

Summary: trying to mend Eliot after a fight, you try not to think about your feelings for him, when all he wants to tell you is how he feels.

Word count: 1000 ish

Warnings: Eliot Spencer. That's it. He counts as a warning. Oh and stitches if that makes you uncomfortable.

A/N: I am in love with Eliot and have a huge amount of inspiration today. If anyone isn't sure, the TV show is Leverage and I highly recommend it!

A quiet gasp was the only sound in the room as you sat beside Eliot on the lounge, dabbing at his cut eyebrow. As always, there were unexpected problems with the job, and when everyone got back to Nate's apartment, it was your job to stitch them up. Or at least, stitch up Eliot as he was usually the only one to get hurt, as was the case tonight.

When Sophie found you a year ago, you were having a really rough time. She took you in along with the others and soon you were working with them all as part of the team. Mostly you acted as the glue that held them all together, making food when Eliot was exhausted, picking up skills from all of them, helping with anything they needed and being a shoulder for all of them to cry on, or even just vent to. They were your family, but with Eliot, you couldn't help but wish it was more. Part of you felt guilty about wanting more, after all he was about 10 years older than you. That's why you felt he could never love you back, believing he thought of you as only a little sister or friend. With that thought, you focused on the task at hand. All you needed to do now was stitch the cut on his chest.

“Can you take your shirt off? I need to stitch the cut on your chest.” You internally face palmed, feeling like you sounded stupid, but he just smiled, wincing as he shrugged his shirt off. You tried hard not to stare at the most beautiful man you'd ever laid eyes on.

Knowing from experience that it would be harder to stitch from beside him, you straddled his hips and tried hard not to blush, soaking a cotton ball in antiseptic. Handing him a pillow to squeeze with his left hand, you gently dabbed the cut going from his chest across to his right shoulder, feeling him gasp and tense as you did.

“m'sorry it hurts so much” You mumbled as you wiggle closer to him whilst attempting to thread the needle.

“It's all good sweetheart, I'm just lucky your the one patching me up” He smiled whilst staring at you, making you blush as you forced yourself to remember that he didn't feel the same way. You tried to smile back, but the stupid needle wouldn't thread. As Eliot took a long draw from the bottle of whiskey beside him to dull the pain, you finally got he needle threaded.

“This is going to hurt sorry, but I'll be as gentle as I can. Plus, the good news is I've learnt better since last time” you attempted to sound reassuring as you remembered how patchy your sutures were last time.

Bracing himself, Eliot put a wad of paper towels in his mouth, squeezing the pillow and nodding to you before looking away. You'd hoped that after the initial stitch the pain would ebb a bit for him, but it only seemed to get worse. Trying to take his mind off the pain and distract him a bit, you said the first thing that came to mind.

“Well, the good news is, when this is all healed you can go out on another date with that girl you picked up from the bar the other day.”

“Yeah, I don't think that'd be a good idea” you tried to stifle a laugh. As smooth as Eliot could be, he also fucked up royally with women at times. You thought this was the case, but wanted to keep him distracted.

“Really? What happened this time?”

“Well it's my fault really. I've got feelings for someone else”

You felt your heart drop into your stomach as a dull ache formed. Of course there was someone. Why wouldn't there be? Still, you didn't want him to know how disappointed you felt, so you plastered a cheeky smile on you face as you kept the stitches tight.

“Oh really? The great womanizer has feelings for someone? I'll bite. Who is it?”

“Well, let's just say she's gorgeous. She's the most beautiful person I know. Hot on the outside too” He winked at you. You felt dead on the inside. “ she likes to cook too. And she does this thing where she hides her feelings to look after everyone else, but I'm lucky enough that she usually lets me in”

You didn't look up. If you did, you would have seen how softly he was looking at you, the awe in his gaze as he smiled despite his pain. Your heart hurt, but you couldn't let this go.

“And does this mystery woman have a name?”

“Yes she does”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Y/n”

“Yes?”

“...”

He blinked

You blinked

“Are you going to tell me her name?”

“You know, you are the most beautiful but incredibly dense person I know.”

“Thank you? I don't really know how to take that.” He chuckled despite his pain and kept silent as you neared the end of the stitches. After a moment he broke the silence as you tied the thread off.

“Say there was a guy, who is a fair bit older than you, but he really really cared about you. He’s even scared shit-less as he actually thinks he loves you. Would you give him a chance?”

You froze. The vulnerability in his voice told you this wasn't a hypothetical, or even an example. He was serious. This was real. You went over the conversation from a moment ago.

     Are you going to tell me?

     Y/n

You cut the thread. You heart was frozen solid, but his was beating fast enough for the both of you, as he held his breathe, waiting for a response. Looking him deep in the eyes, you felt a huge wave of emotions crash over you. You looked at his lips, and slowly lent down to graze your lips on his. Pulling back slightly to look back in his eyes, you checked this really was happening. His left hand reached up and gently held the side of you neck as he brought you back in for a searing kiss.

@immrbrightsideeee​  @wontlastimokwiththat​ @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline​

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