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medjai_trowa!!
Feb. 14th, 2010 01:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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zombie_festTitle: Zombie Love
Author:hawk_dancing
Written for:medjai_trowaFandom(s): Leverage, brief mention of Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Eliot/team (minus Tara)
Rating: FRM - slash, het, moresomes, zombies, angels, bit of language
Warnings: Not really, everything's really mild in this one.
Author's Notes: Set somewhere in the future of my Hunter!AU (huge multi-fandom crossover with Supernatural as a base) while Sophie's away. And I'm a bit mean to Tara...
--
It was an easy job; get in, get the information off the mark's computer, get out. Parker for the theft, Tara for the grift, Eliot in the van outside with him and Hardison just in case something unexpected cropped up.
Easy job, in and out; if any con was said to be straightforward and uncomplicated, this was it.
So of course something was bound to go wrong.
--
//Guys! We've got a problem!//
"Talk to me, Parker," Nate's tone sharpened as he swiveled his chair to look at the monitors himself. Banks of internal security feeds showed nothing but empty offices, disserted corridors and the one management party going on downstairs in the first floor conference room that was their distraction. "What's going on?"
//Oh, nothing much. We're just being chased by zombies.// They heard her short laugh and a door slam over the comms, along with the low pounding of running feet.
Eliot frowned. " - the hell?"
"You're - what?" Nate turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Did she just say - "
"There." Hunched over his shoulder, the hitter pointed at one of the screens where Parker and Tara could be seen running down the hallway. Sure enough, a few seconds later there came the awkward shamble of - bodies - crowding along behind them.
Well that certainly was...different. Certainly confirmed his theory that a cubicle job sucked the life right out of you...
"Parker, s'ere a blind spot in the cameras anywhere near you?"
//I think - yeah, but - //
"Can y' get to it?"
//Yeah.//
"Nate?"
"Go."
"Go," Eliot told her. "I'm comin' ta you."
//Wait! There's nothing - //
Whatever protest Tara was about to make, Eliot was already gone.
--
"Wait! There's nothing there! Eliot - Dammit!" Tara cursed as she followed Parker around a blind corridor, the sharp left taking them ever closer to a dead end. "Parker -"
"Come on!"
"Parker, there's no door! No *exit* - "
She knew the thief had a reputation of being a little - okay a lot crazy, but even if she believed in zombies - which she didn't - that blind spot was at the end of a hallway with nothing else there. No windows, no doorways, no way to get out. And if whatever - whoever! was chasing them caught up with them before they could turn around, they were trapped.
"Parker, are you listening - "
"No, not really," the smaller thief admitted, her breath coming in sharp pants as she tugged her around the last corner with a hard grip on her wrist. She was stronger than she looked. "Now come on! We're almost there."
"Almost *where*?"
"Here! Eliot, we're here."
And suddenly so was Eliot, the hitter just appearing literally out of nowhere...
"Come on," he told them, eyes narrowed and scanning the empty corridor behind them. Had his eyes always been *that* blue? "We gotta go."
"Go?" she sputtered, partly in irritation, mostly in fear. But she couldn't have seen what she had - zombies didn't exist...
Before she could protest go where and how, Eliot had a very large arm around her waist and the bland corporate hallway flashed away just as something shuffled around the corner where they had been standing.
--
"We got'em, Hardison, go."
--
"Okay - *what* the hell was that?" Tara scrambled backward in the moving van until she found one of the seats to hold on to. Her heart was racing, and she couldn't *possibly* have seen what she had, and the fact that she was the only one freaking out about their sudden Star Trek rescue was *really* freaking her out. "Who are you?"
"Eliot Spencer." The hitter tried the good ol' boy smile he used to con women and gentle the victims they worked for - not that it was working on her, because it sure as hell wasn't. It wouldn't have worked even if she hadn't seen the look the other four had traded between them.
"Oh no. Don't you dare pull that crap with me," she warned, furious now that the fear had worn off and demanding answers. "If those really were zombies, then what are *you*?"
Eliot sighed and cast another one of those looks at Nate, before turning back to her. Raking a hand through his hair, the hitter admitted, "I'm an angel."
"I'm sorry - you're a what? An *angel*?" She wanted to laugh in their faces, she really did, because - come on? This had to be some kind of late initiation prank, didn't it? Freak the new kid once her guard was down? Instead she snorted. "Yeah, pull the other one."
Only, instead of getting upset, Eliot - the angel - merely looked back at her with those eyes that were once again way too blue to possibly be human. Contacts, maybe, but he hadn't had them in a second ago...
...only, again, literally a second ago she and Parker had been trapped in a dead end hallway with no one else there and no way out...and then Eliot was just suddenly *there* and then they were all *here* and...and...
She suddenly wondered if Parker's type of crazy just happened to be contagious and they were all infected.
"I'm an angel, Tara," the graveled tone rolled over her, somehow soothing her nerves without her wanting it to.
"He really is," Parker piped up, cheerful grin splitting her face in half.
Unable to help herself, she looked around to Hardison driving the van who just nodded, grinning, and then on to Nate, the older man wearing a more sober version of the demented grin the other two had on. "He really is, Tara. Eliot's an angel."
"Prove it."
"Woman - " Hardison shook his head.
"I - you - I just rescued you from zombies, by blinking myself into and then you out of a dead end hallway! On the fourteenth floor." Eliot sputtered. "What more d'ya want?"
"I don't believe you."
"Doesn't matter, b'cause you won't be remembering any of this anyway," Eliot told her. If she hadn't been distracted by the fingers gently pressed against her forehead she would have sworn he looked sad as he said that.
--
"Did you kill her?" Parker asked in idle fascination.
"No," Eliot glared. "Jus' knocked 'er out. She won't remember a thing."
Parker just huffed a laugh, "Cool," and rooted around in her pack for the fortune cookies she had brought as a snack.
Nate half rolled his eyes at the thief before accusing Eliot, "That comes in awful handy."
"Yeah," the angel smirked. "It does."
"You get the accounts, Parker?"
"Easy-peasy," she told him, tossing him the flash drive she had swiped while Tara had kept Derringer busy. "Before the zombies showed up."
"Speaking of zombies..."
"Yeah. I gotta go back." Eliot told him seriously. "Ain't no tellin' how a horde a zombies found themselves in an accountin' high-rise in downtown Boston, but either way, it ain't good."
"Need any help?"
"Nah, I got it. Just take Tara home; she'll sleep 'till mornin'. Wake up with a headache an' no memory of angels or zombies. I'll meet you guys back home."
“Stay safe.“ Nate eyed the angel with a wry grin. "You'll probably be there before we will."
--
A couple hours later, Nate's condo...
--
Eliot grinned from where he sat in front of the main screens, settling back into the couch as Hardison brought in popcorn and orange soda from the kitchen. Except for Tara, they all had taken a condo above McRory’s when it had become clear they weren’t splitting up again; though they usually found themselves at Nate’s since that was where Hardison had set up the bank of tv screens…
"Hey, good road trip?"
“Not bad, not bad. Parker ‘n I dropped Tara off at her apartment, safe ‘n sound.” Hardison dropped onto the other end of the sofa, setting the bowl between them, his attention already on the games on screens.
Eliot popped a few kernels into his mouth. “Nate takin’ the flash drive to the cops?”
“Yeah, ‘tween our old cases, he’s set up a relationship with Lt. Banano. Figured state police’d be better’n the locals. You know.”
“Probably right.”
A couple minutes later, Hardison frowned, noticing someone was still missing. “’Ey - where’s Parker?”
“Makin’ snow angels.”
"And just how do you know that? You been here the whole time..." The hacker accused.
Eliot snorted. "Hello. Angel. I always know where you guys are."
"Man, 'at's just wrong." Getting up, Hardison peered out the window at the traffic below. It was already false dawn with the morning only a hour away. “You mean she’s outside makin’ snow angels on the curb? That girl - “
“No, on the roof. It's Parker, ” the angel told him, just as Nate walked through the door, a flushed and chilled Parker in his wake.
“State cops all nice ‘n happy?”
“Thrilled at the unexpected windfall to what had been, at least up ‘til now, a very frustrating case. Derringer should be behind bars within hours if he’s not already.”
Hardison clinked his bottle to Eliot’s as Nate went to the kitchen for coffee. Stealing money was one thing - they were thieves, after all - but making your primary target the bank accounts of nursing homes specializing in patients with government pensions and no families, well. Nate’s well defined sense of right and wrong wasn’t the only one offended on this one..
“So how’d the hunt go?” Nate asked.
“Uneventful,” the angel shook his head. “Couple’a kids tryin’ to conjure up a date for Valentine’s Day ended up, not only gettin’ the spell wrong, but sendin' their new pals a few dozen miles outta the way,” he shook his head. “Took care’a the zombies then traced the link back to the kids and scared the snot outta’em.”
“Well, being confronted with the wrath of an angel of God should teach them to pay for their dates and to leave magic alone,” Nate raised his eyes over his cup, snickering. "Let me guess; they specified brain dead and sociable?"
“Probably,” Eliot snickered with him. “Went back to consecrate the halls the zombies wandered. Bad juju. Never mind the spell itself, I know *I* wouldn’t want ta have a buncha dead roamin’ around where I work.”
"Consecrated, huh?“ Nate commented knowingly, asking, “Where'd you get the holy water?"
"Dude," Eliot huffed. "Angel."
"Right."
“Speaking of zombies,” Parker jumped over the back of the couch, handing each of them a small, white envelope. “Here.”
"What's this?" Hardison put down his soda to open his.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" Parker grinned, looking to each of them. "I thought, you know, since we were all together, we could - I don't know - celebrate."
Inside each of their envelopes was a card with hearts and zombies on the cover.
Eliot grinned.
Nate blinked.
Hardison looked at the blond like she was crazy. "So - what? You're attacked by a horde of zombies and you decide to send everyone zombie cards? For Valentine's Day? Seriously?"
"Well, yeah."
“And you just happened to have zombie cards, what? Just lyin’ around…?”
“Don’t be silly, “ Parker scoffed. “Gabriel found them for me.”
“Of course he did.”
"Girl - there is somethin' seriously wrong with you."
"'t's Parker," Eliot said again. Though the idea of Parker and Gabriel getting up to no good was a scary one. One Eliot wasn’t sure which scared him more; the Trickster side or the archangel. "But just when did you talk ta Gabriel?"
"While Hardison and Nate were getting Tara settled in her apartment. I told him what had happened, and he said he had the perfect thing." Looking around, her smile lost a bit of its certainty. "Did I not do it right?"
"No, Parker," Eliot denied, the angel reaching over to kiss her softly. "You did it right."
"Considering the night we've had, these are just about perfect," Nate admitted.
"Yeah, girl, you did good," Hardison added his own vote with a hug. "An' Nate's right, but still...zombies?"
"What? I like zombies. You know - when they're not chasing me."
---
That night, no one was surprised when Parker started having nightmares. It was why no one had gone home, but had all piled in Nate's king sized bed instead.
As soon as she started twitching Eliot was there, gathering her in and spreading his wings over her and Hardison wrapped behind her. Nate briefly woke behind him; one arm thrown over his waist in a reassuring squeeze, before they all settled back down to sleep.
All wrapped together, his cheek resting on top of Parker's head, Eliot grinned as he felt Nate's nose rubbing against his spine as he settled back in behind him.
"Hey Nate?"
"Hmph?"
"Be my Zombie-tine?"
end
Author:
hawk_dancingWritten for:
medjai_trowaFandom(s): Leverage, brief mention of SupernaturalCharacters/Pairings: Eliot/team (minus Tara)
Rating: FRM - slash, het, moresomes, zombies, angels, bit of language
Warnings: Not really, everything's really mild in this one.
Author's Notes: Set somewhere in the future of my Hunter!AU (huge multi-fandom crossover with Supernatural as a base) while Sophie's away. And I'm a bit mean to Tara...
--
It was an easy job; get in, get the information off the mark's computer, get out. Parker for the theft, Tara for the grift, Eliot in the van outside with him and Hardison just in case something unexpected cropped up.
Easy job, in and out; if any con was said to be straightforward and uncomplicated, this was it.
So of course something was bound to go wrong.
--
//Guys! We've got a problem!//
"Talk to me, Parker," Nate's tone sharpened as he swiveled his chair to look at the monitors himself. Banks of internal security feeds showed nothing but empty offices, disserted corridors and the one management party going on downstairs in the first floor conference room that was their distraction. "What's going on?"
//Oh, nothing much. We're just being chased by zombies.// They heard her short laugh and a door slam over the comms, along with the low pounding of running feet.
Eliot frowned. " - the hell?"
"You're - what?" Nate turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Did she just say - "
"There." Hunched over his shoulder, the hitter pointed at one of the screens where Parker and Tara could be seen running down the hallway. Sure enough, a few seconds later there came the awkward shamble of - bodies - crowding along behind them.
Well that certainly was...different. Certainly confirmed his theory that a cubicle job sucked the life right out of you...
"Parker, s'ere a blind spot in the cameras anywhere near you?"
//I think - yeah, but - //
"Can y' get to it?"
//Yeah.//
"Nate?"
"Go."
"Go," Eliot told her. "I'm comin' ta you."
//Wait! There's nothing - //
Whatever protest Tara was about to make, Eliot was already gone.
--
"Wait! There's nothing there! Eliot - Dammit!" Tara cursed as she followed Parker around a blind corridor, the sharp left taking them ever closer to a dead end. "Parker -"
"Come on!"
"Parker, there's no door! No *exit* - "
She knew the thief had a reputation of being a little - okay a lot crazy, but even if she believed in zombies - which she didn't - that blind spot was at the end of a hallway with nothing else there. No windows, no doorways, no way to get out. And if whatever - whoever! was chasing them caught up with them before they could turn around, they were trapped.
"Parker, are you listening - "
"No, not really," the smaller thief admitted, her breath coming in sharp pants as she tugged her around the last corner with a hard grip on her wrist. She was stronger than she looked. "Now come on! We're almost there."
"Almost *where*?"
"Here! Eliot, we're here."
And suddenly so was Eliot, the hitter just appearing literally out of nowhere...
"Come on," he told them, eyes narrowed and scanning the empty corridor behind them. Had his eyes always been *that* blue? "We gotta go."
"Go?" she sputtered, partly in irritation, mostly in fear. But she couldn't have seen what she had - zombies didn't exist...
Before she could protest go where and how, Eliot had a very large arm around her waist and the bland corporate hallway flashed away just as something shuffled around the corner where they had been standing.
--
"We got'em, Hardison, go."
--
"Okay - *what* the hell was that?" Tara scrambled backward in the moving van until she found one of the seats to hold on to. Her heart was racing, and she couldn't *possibly* have seen what she had, and the fact that she was the only one freaking out about their sudden Star Trek rescue was *really* freaking her out. "Who are you?"
"Eliot Spencer." The hitter tried the good ol' boy smile he used to con women and gentle the victims they worked for - not that it was working on her, because it sure as hell wasn't. It wouldn't have worked even if she hadn't seen the look the other four had traded between them.
"Oh no. Don't you dare pull that crap with me," she warned, furious now that the fear had worn off and demanding answers. "If those really were zombies, then what are *you*?"
Eliot sighed and cast another one of those looks at Nate, before turning back to her. Raking a hand through his hair, the hitter admitted, "I'm an angel."
"I'm sorry - you're a what? An *angel*?" She wanted to laugh in their faces, she really did, because - come on? This had to be some kind of late initiation prank, didn't it? Freak the new kid once her guard was down? Instead she snorted. "Yeah, pull the other one."
Only, instead of getting upset, Eliot - the angel - merely looked back at her with those eyes that were once again way too blue to possibly be human. Contacts, maybe, but he hadn't had them in a second ago...
...only, again, literally a second ago she and Parker had been trapped in a dead end hallway with no one else there and no way out...and then Eliot was just suddenly *there* and then they were all *here* and...and...
She suddenly wondered if Parker's type of crazy just happened to be contagious and they were all infected.
"I'm an angel, Tara," the graveled tone rolled over her, somehow soothing her nerves without her wanting it to.
"He really is," Parker piped up, cheerful grin splitting her face in half.
Unable to help herself, she looked around to Hardison driving the van who just nodded, grinning, and then on to Nate, the older man wearing a more sober version of the demented grin the other two had on. "He really is, Tara. Eliot's an angel."
"Prove it."
"Woman - " Hardison shook his head.
"I - you - I just rescued you from zombies, by blinking myself into and then you out of a dead end hallway! On the fourteenth floor." Eliot sputtered. "What more d'ya want?"
"I don't believe you."
"Doesn't matter, b'cause you won't be remembering any of this anyway," Eliot told her. If she hadn't been distracted by the fingers gently pressed against her forehead she would have sworn he looked sad as he said that.
--
"Did you kill her?" Parker asked in idle fascination.
"No," Eliot glared. "Jus' knocked 'er out. She won't remember a thing."
Parker just huffed a laugh, "Cool," and rooted around in her pack for the fortune cookies she had brought as a snack.
Nate half rolled his eyes at the thief before accusing Eliot, "That comes in awful handy."
"Yeah," the angel smirked. "It does."
"You get the accounts, Parker?"
"Easy-peasy," she told him, tossing him the flash drive she had swiped while Tara had kept Derringer busy. "Before the zombies showed up."
"Speaking of zombies..."
"Yeah. I gotta go back." Eliot told him seriously. "Ain't no tellin' how a horde a zombies found themselves in an accountin' high-rise in downtown Boston, but either way, it ain't good."
"Need any help?"
"Nah, I got it. Just take Tara home; she'll sleep 'till mornin'. Wake up with a headache an' no memory of angels or zombies. I'll meet you guys back home."
“Stay safe.“ Nate eyed the angel with a wry grin. "You'll probably be there before we will."
--
A couple hours later, Nate's condo...
--
Eliot grinned from where he sat in front of the main screens, settling back into the couch as Hardison brought in popcorn and orange soda from the kitchen. Except for Tara, they all had taken a condo above McRory’s when it had become clear they weren’t splitting up again; though they usually found themselves at Nate’s since that was where Hardison had set up the bank of tv screens…
"Hey, good road trip?"
“Not bad, not bad. Parker ‘n I dropped Tara off at her apartment, safe ‘n sound.” Hardison dropped onto the other end of the sofa, setting the bowl between them, his attention already on the games on screens.
Eliot popped a few kernels into his mouth. “Nate takin’ the flash drive to the cops?”
“Yeah, ‘tween our old cases, he’s set up a relationship with Lt. Banano. Figured state police’d be better’n the locals. You know.”
“Probably right.”
A couple minutes later, Hardison frowned, noticing someone was still missing. “’Ey - where’s Parker?”
“Makin’ snow angels.”
"And just how do you know that? You been here the whole time..." The hacker accused.
Eliot snorted. "Hello. Angel. I always know where you guys are."
"Man, 'at's just wrong." Getting up, Hardison peered out the window at the traffic below. It was already false dawn with the morning only a hour away. “You mean she’s outside makin’ snow angels on the curb? That girl - “
“No, on the roof. It's Parker, ” the angel told him, just as Nate walked through the door, a flushed and chilled Parker in his wake.
“State cops all nice ‘n happy?”
“Thrilled at the unexpected windfall to what had been, at least up ‘til now, a very frustrating case. Derringer should be behind bars within hours if he’s not already.”
Hardison clinked his bottle to Eliot’s as Nate went to the kitchen for coffee. Stealing money was one thing - they were thieves, after all - but making your primary target the bank accounts of nursing homes specializing in patients with government pensions and no families, well. Nate’s well defined sense of right and wrong wasn’t the only one offended on this one..
“So how’d the hunt go?” Nate asked.
“Uneventful,” the angel shook his head. “Couple’a kids tryin’ to conjure up a date for Valentine’s Day ended up, not only gettin’ the spell wrong, but sendin' their new pals a few dozen miles outta the way,” he shook his head. “Took care’a the zombies then traced the link back to the kids and scared the snot outta’em.”
“Well, being confronted with the wrath of an angel of God should teach them to pay for their dates and to leave magic alone,” Nate raised his eyes over his cup, snickering. "Let me guess; they specified brain dead and sociable?"
“Probably,” Eliot snickered with him. “Went back to consecrate the halls the zombies wandered. Bad juju. Never mind the spell itself, I know *I* wouldn’t want ta have a buncha dead roamin’ around where I work.”
"Consecrated, huh?“ Nate commented knowingly, asking, “Where'd you get the holy water?"
"Dude," Eliot huffed. "Angel."
"Right."
“Speaking of zombies,” Parker jumped over the back of the couch, handing each of them a small, white envelope. “Here.”
"What's this?" Hardison put down his soda to open his.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" Parker grinned, looking to each of them. "I thought, you know, since we were all together, we could - I don't know - celebrate."
Inside each of their envelopes was a card with hearts and zombies on the cover.
Eliot grinned.
Nate blinked.
Hardison looked at the blond like she was crazy. "So - what? You're attacked by a horde of zombies and you decide to send everyone zombie cards? For Valentine's Day? Seriously?"
"Well, yeah."
“And you just happened to have zombie cards, what? Just lyin’ around…?”
“Don’t be silly, “ Parker scoffed. “Gabriel found them for me.”
“Of course he did.”
"Girl - there is somethin' seriously wrong with you."
"'t's Parker," Eliot said again. Though the idea of Parker and Gabriel getting up to no good was a scary one. One Eliot wasn’t sure which scared him more; the Trickster side or the archangel. "But just when did you talk ta Gabriel?"
"While Hardison and Nate were getting Tara settled in her apartment. I told him what had happened, and he said he had the perfect thing." Looking around, her smile lost a bit of its certainty. "Did I not do it right?"
"No, Parker," Eliot denied, the angel reaching over to kiss her softly. "You did it right."
"Considering the night we've had, these are just about perfect," Nate admitted.
"Yeah, girl, you did good," Hardison added his own vote with a hug. "An' Nate's right, but still...zombies?"
"What? I like zombies. You know - when they're not chasing me."
---
That night, no one was surprised when Parker started having nightmares. It was why no one had gone home, but had all piled in Nate's king sized bed instead.
As soon as she started twitching Eliot was there, gathering her in and spreading his wings over her and Hardison wrapped behind her. Nate briefly woke behind him; one arm thrown over his waist in a reassuring squeeze, before they all settled back down to sleep.
All wrapped together, his cheek resting on top of Parker's head, Eliot grinned as he felt Nate's nose rubbing against his spine as he settled back in behind him.
"Hey Nate?"
"Hmph?"
"Be my Zombie-tine?"
end
