Who wants a really sad Leverage headcanon?

Was re-watching the Gimme a K Street Job -- Season 5 Episode 5 -- and a couple of things stood out to me.

1) Nate says "Let's go steal some congresspeople", and then sends everyone on the team (except Parker, who's being a cheer coach) out to con one of their targets. But it feels like there's a profound mismatch in who gets which mark.

For the "not like other girls" feminist congresswoman who's inclined to dismiss cheer as worthless and demeaning, you need Eliot to come in looking like a man who very much knows what does and does not count as a sport, and be his tiny angry respect-women-juice self about how regardless of what you think of their choice of clothing they are working as hard as any other athlete and they deserve safety as much as anyone else. But instead they sent Hardison.

For the "Yes I am very busy and important; admire me" chairman, you need Sophie, who is better than anyone else on the planet at making you feel admirable when you're doing what she wants, and scummy and low when you're not doing what she wants. But instead they sent Eliot.

For the "Look I am trying, but I need corn subsidies or I won't be able to do anything else" newbie congressman, Hardison could happily have gone on an infinitely recurring series of fetch quests until he sees the place where they loop around and bottom out and every problem solves every other problem. But instead they sent Sophie.

2) Eliot struggles the most, so Nate works with him the most, but he doesn't help him out hardly at all; he just keeps saying, "So what's your next play?" and then revealing that he's already anticipated Eliot's next play and has all the materials in place to enact it. And of course, they do eventually get the dude on board, and it all works out, but afterwards, Eliot tells Nate, "I trust that some time soon you'll tell me why you had me slogging through all that when you already knew how to hook him."

And of course, knowing what we now know about how season 5 ends, it makes sense that Nate is trying to train the OT3 to work without him, looking for his replacement.

Except.

If the plan is to fuck off into the sunset with Sophie, then why did he throw Sophie into this uncomfortable not-my-wheelhouse scenario?

No, Nate's preparing the entire team to carry on without him. He's forcing them to learn how to plan, learn different ways of approaching problems, to think about bigger pictures and approach them strategically.

...

I think Nate just got the first diagnosis of the disease that's finally going to kill him. And again, we -- the audience -- now know that he's going to live for many years after that initial diagnosis. But he doesn't know that, at this point. He knows he's tested positive, and he knows it's eventually going to kill him, and he has no idea how long he has.

And in some sense, it doesn't matter how long he has. Three months or thirty years, that kind of revelation makes it stunningly clear that taking care of the people you love means making sure that they can take care of themselves.

So that's what he does: he throws them into new, uncomfortable situations where they'll have to grow and support each other without him, so that no matter what happens, they'll be able to keep going. Because he's not a nice person, Jimmy Ford's son, but by God does he know the importance of protecting your family.

𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐬

Summary: What happens when you find out your shitty boyfriend cheats on you with a new coworker and you decide to show him just who he messed with and you run into a bit someone unexpected? 

Warnings: Language, Angst , Cheating , Weapons

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

First Person Point Of View: 

You couldn’t believe that this happened to you, how could you have let this happen? Your recent boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, had decided to cheat with the new girl in his law firm. You had detected the affair quickly as he became less and less, and became much more “work focused” as your mother liked to call it as you started to discuss your concerns. She believed he was a good man as did all your friends, who knew he was so good at lying? To you and the world huh? Your suspicions were proven correct when you decided to visit him at work the last afternoon with the fresh lunch you thought you could share together and found the two of them, coming back from their own lunch, making out in the parking garage of his office. Lucky for you he didn’t see you and you were able to slip away quickly. After slipping away you sat in your car and started to sob, you couldn’t believe this had happened, you just thought he was distant because of a big case, not another woman. As you pulled out of the parking garage that afternoon,  mascara streaked down your chin, you made the decision that if he wanted to cheat, you would show him just the women he cheated on. The rest of that afternoon you made your preparations and got things around and even did a small bit of retail therapy ( with the credit card he had given you of course ) and started the demise of your cheating ex boyfriend, Nathan. First you started prepping by taking a quick shower and applying minimal makeup because, why let him fuck up more mascara? As you laced up your black boots you grabbed the essentials and headed to the bar you knew he frequented after a good case. As you pulled up to the bar you noticed the ugly Ford 4x4 in the parking lot with his cheesy bumper sticker. You parked about a few cars down, giving yourself a nice amount of space between them so if for some reason he wouldn’t see you. As smooth as butter you ran your car key along the side of his truck, bumper to bumper. You begin to pop a tire with the small pocket knife on your keys when suddenly a tall brunette comes running from the other side of the parking lot, “hey, hey lady what the hell?!” he yells his hands out as you turn to him quickly knife in hand “mind your own business buddy” you seeth, slight tears in your eyes as he lowers his hands to his sides “well, you do have a knife, and you are popping tires on a car.. I mean it is a crime” he sighs watching you closely as you turn around again. “Just go inside and get a drink and don't you worry about me pretty boy” you mumbled, as you turned you knew you recognized him, he played in them movies that you and Nathan watched often, He was Captain America. He laughed behind you as he watched you pick the lock of the truck and disarming the alarm “you know I can’t let you continue to commit a crime” Chris laughed walking to you as he continued “so what exactly am I witnessing at this moment?” he asked as he watched you carve (Y/N) in both the headrest and the seat on both sides. “(Y/N) huh? So (Y/N) care to explain to me what is happening?” he asked again as he started to hear the sniffles from you and shortly after a sob. “Fuck him” you seethed through the sobs “fuck him and that ugly fucking bitch” you continued to seeth through your sobs. As you sobbed you took the bat and smashed the hood of the truck and continued you knocked out every light on the truck as eventually two arms grabbed your arms to stop you, a bold move as you were clearly loaded with weapons. “Hey hey” Chris whispered as he took the bat slowly “c’mon let's head inside okay? Hey it's okay, okay?” he looked at you as you once again let this asshole screw up your mascara. You sobbed in the arms of this stranger and watched as he led you inside slowly in which you’d be face to face with Nathan and the woman who created this mess. As you walked inside slowly with Chris by your side rubbing your arm, all eyes landed on you, mainly because you walked in with a gorgeous man on your arm but mostly because obviously they recognized who this man was. Chris sat you in a booth and went to grab some towels from the restroom as to help clean up the blood you didn’t notice before on your hands along with the mascara on your cheeks, he also covered you with the jacket as he left as you only had on a tshirt as it approached 10 pm. As you sat in the booth your eyes on the table eventually someone cleared their throat causing you to look up and be face to face with the eyes that used to hold nothing but love for you. “(Y/N) what are you doing here?” he asked hands on his hips, in an authoritative way not even a hot way as chris did it before “does it matter?” you snarked back adjusting Chris’s jacket on your arms. “I mean I’d like to know why my girlfriend is in a bar with another man's jacket on her arms” he snickered back as you sighed sitting up ready to snark back as someone cleared their throat behind Nathan. “From the story I’m gathering, you cheated on this young lady and she found out, knew you’d be here, with said mistress and she decided to take matters into her own hands, but of course I stopped her before she did any real damage” Chris spoke as Nathan turned to him, mouth agape as he recognized him as well as everyone else did. “W-What?” Nathan looked between the two of you as Chris sat across from you, handing you the towels so you could wipe your hands. Chris looked to you as Nathan stood at the end of the table, “would you like a ride home beautiful? Or at least let me order you a ride?” he smiled at you as the small smile crossed your face “I would like that actually, a ride would be nice..” you whispered standing as he put an arm around your shoulder, Nathan hot on your heels out the door. “You can’t just ignore me bi-” Nathan stopped mid sentence as he saw the damage you had done to his truck “What the fuck?!” he screamed running to the truck, noticing that all four of his tires were slashed, both sets of lights destroyed along with your name in both of his seats, door wide open in which most of his belongings were taken. Finally the young woman decided to join him outside and noticed the destruction to his truck, trying to comfort him as Chris snickered beside you “Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy”. 

+

The car ride to your apartment was quiet as Chris had a quiet 80’s playlist playing. He didn’t push you to talk to him, didn’t push you to tell him what happened, he just followed your directions to your apartment. As he pulled up to your apartment and put his car in park he turned in the seat to face you, “I’m really sorry…” he whispered, you shook your head and shrugged your shoulders “I thought I was going to marry him ya know?” you turned to him as you continued “I just don’t know what I was thinking.. He treated me so well and then.. Well obviously you put two and two together” you sighed sitting up to take his jacket off “Thank you very much for giving me a ride home..” you smiled handing him his jacket back. “You don’t have to thank me, It’s the least I could do” he smiled as you smiled softly back “Is there anything I could do to repay you? Gas money?” you asked curiously, he shook his head and smiled “how about just a phone number? If you need a friend” he smiled back as you nodded slowly. You took his phone from him and entered your phone number making sure to add in the knife emoji next to your name.

+

 Two weeks Later .. 

A knock at the door startled you from your book and coffee as your cat jumped from his sleep. You sighed softly as you got up and opened the door to be greeted by a delivery man who looked to love his job so much. “Uh delivery for (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N)?” he asked unsure as you nodded and took the flowers. “Thank you” you nodded and shut the door walking to the kitchen counter as Chris follows shortly after bringing Dodger back from a walk. “What is that?” he asked curious leaning against the counter in front of you “I’m not sure was just delivered” you shrugged opening the note: 

“ My Dearest (Y/N),

I’m so sorry, I wish I never did these things and I wish I didn’t , Please I hope this is just the beginning of us rebuilding.. Again I’m so sorry, Please call me,Please talk to me, anything… I will always love you

Love, Nathan. X”

You scoffed handing the note to Chris to read as he read over it shaking his head tossing it into the trash “I wouldn’t keep them if you don’t want too. That note though was absolutely awful so you don’t want that” he laughed as he saw the smile on your face as you chuckled again shaking your head “maybe I’ll give them to Mrs.Carter down the hall.. She’s been quite lonely since her husband died” you smiled at him as he then chucked again, “what?” you asked, “I guess maybe he’ll think before he cheats” causing the both of you to laugh. This was the start of something much better than what Nathan ever had to offer you.  

Could you write something about Alec Hardison and his nana? Maybe what she thinks about the leverage team?

Alec brings the boy home first, which makes Betty and Erna in her senior water aerobics class groan aloud when she tells them. It’s not that he’s a boy—Maeve’s got six children, all told, and Alec is the youngest; it’d be thoroughly unlikely for all of them to be straight. (Anjelica has been bringing her wife to Christmas services and Iftar dinners for years, and the biggest issue there was their children’s gluten allergies. How are you supposed to break fast without Pillsbury crescent rolls, Anjelica? They’re the right shape!)

The problem, the actual problem, was that Maeve knew Alec was serious about the girl. Even the boy seemed to know it, a solid bruiser of a man hunching his shoulders in a vaguely apologetic fashion as he offered out a covered dish. 

“Kołaczki,” he said, as though this was an ordinary thing to bring to your maybe-boyfriend’s family Christmas. 

“They’re cookies, Nana,” Alec volunteered, and Maeve took in the sight of him standing so close, how his hand reached for the bruiser’s shoulder and then shied away again. “With raspberry, your favorite.”

Maeve sniffed. “Gluten-free?”

The bruiser blinked. “Of course,” he said, and she decided to like him then. If she wasn’t going to meet the elusive ‘Parker’ who was blonde and inspired her youngest to recite twenty minutes of terrible poetry over the phone in her honor, then some nice Midwestern boy who made gluten-free cookies (and offered to wash dishes, afterwards) was certainly Maeve’s second choice.

If she stuck her head out the kitchen and found Alec and Elliot leaning in too close, as though they could breathe each other in—swallow, completely—without anyone else noticing, then that was none of her business. She went back to drying her mother’s china, and listening to the radio. Oh darling, say it’s true—there’s nothing like me and you—

.

“You’re very skinny,” Maeve observes, when she opens the door and there’s a white woman standing there, smiling like a cat who has swallowed the canary and also most of the local avian population.

“Thank you,” the woman says, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Is Hardison in?”

Maeve narrows her eyes. “Are you Parker?”

The woman smiles in a condescending way that Maeve is definitely going to tell Betty and Marge about next class. “Not in the slightest. Is Hardison available?”

It’s Easter, so Alec kisses Maeve’s cheek as he bustles out the door. “Jesus is risen!” he shouts as the skinny white woman bustles him into the car.

“Halle-fucking-lujah,” Nana Hardison mutters. She glances skyward, where a light drizzle is starting to fall. “Sorry,” she adds.

Afterwards, once the last of her guests have left bearing tupperware full of ham, turkey, and various kinds of potatoes. Maeve smokes her annual cigarette on the front porch. Given that he’s risen now, she tells Jesus about her good-for-nothing-except-what’s-right son. Her strange and absolute gift. She almost envies the Catholics; she suspects Mary would know what she means. But Maeve’s church don’t pray to her, long-suffering mother she is. “Sorry, about before,” she tells Jesus. “But...not really.”

Finally, she grinds the cigarette under what passes for a heel given her orthopedic insoles. “Not sorry,” she decides finally. “Not even sort of sorry.”

.

(The less said about Jamal’s baptism, the better. Nathan Ford turns up, takes one look at the baby squirming its doting parents’ arms—and goes sheet-white and bolts from the church like Satan’s at his heels. Maeve hears from Cousin Leticia later, how Alec followed Nathan Ford out into the churchyard and they had a conversation that was all low voices and cigarettes and Alec looking scary, the way he only does sometimes, when it’s serious.

Maeve decides to hate him then: Nate Ford, who can’t even pretend to be joyous at some baby’s christening. Alec doesn’t protest.)

.

“James,” she says, when he comes into her shop. Cousin Rhonda took over most of the day-to-day management when Maeve got her diagnosis all those years ago, but Maeve still shows up sometimes, if only to poke at whatever knotty problem they’ve been dealing with. There’s something reassuring about the small, finicky details of a watch, its intricacy---Joel had always told her that every watch was a secret world, it had to be understood before it could be conquered. (Watches were the only women he ever loved, which is how Maeve had ended up with the store in the first place.)

She’s bent over a particularly intricate watch-face when the bell over the door rings, and doesn’t try looking up; these days it’s so rarely worth it. Someday, someone will burst into the shop with declarations about the end of the world that are actual, but then she will be dead. In the interim, she’s going to fix this silver Aristo so it can get back to its owner. 

Maeve adjusts her grip on the the pin vise. “Is there something I can help you with, James?”

“I think I have the wrong location,” a man she knows is called Sterling says after a long, long moment. “My apologies, Madam.”

“Of course,” she mutters, ignoring the ringing of the door-bell as the strike team exits her shop, one by one.

.

Parker comes last, which—Maeve suspects she should have known from the outset. She didn’t and so the sudden appearance is surprising. Parker is pretty and blonde and twitchy, especially looking at Alec’s things, or the higher-end watches Maeve repairs for men with too much money. She wonders if letting Parker steal something—anything, even small and inconsequential—would suffice, or if it’s something in particular she’s looking for. (She’s had too many thieves under her roof not to know the look. Maeve waited through seven months of Jaymes taking anything not nailed down and hawking it on ebay before confronting him, Parker is small potatoes.)

“You have a beautiful home,” Parker recites from rote, like it’s something she’s been instructed to say.

If Alec were here, he could probably mediate between them. But it’s just Maeve and Parker in a parlor-hall-drawing-room, and Maeve is tired. She wants this girl to like her, because Alec likes her. “It’s haunted,” Maeve says. “It’s why I could afford it, back in the day. I’ve never seen any ghosts, but that’s what they say.”

Parker blinks. “Oh,” she says.

“Are you haunted?” Maeve asks, and is pleased to watch the way Parker twitches, half-consciously. At the very least, Alec deserves someone who knows what it is---to have the ghost of something dogging your footsteps. Maeve doesn’t know much about Parker’s story, but she can guess, from that flinch.

“Come on,” Maeve says, and Parker is nodding, before she finishes.

They sit at the kitchen table, which smells mostly of flour, and food. Burnt, where Maeve and her various children have set down too-hot pans. Parker chooses the seat where Alec used to sit, and Maeve isn’t sure whether that’s deliberate or not. (She’s too skinny, Parker; a photo-negative of Alec, pale where he was dark, but still the same shape.)

“He wanted to come,” Parker says, like she can hear Maeve thinking. “He did.”

‘I know,” Maeve says.

“He...” Parker traces a burn on the table with a finger. “He’s good.”

The conviction there is enough to inspire whole religions. Maeve can’t help but take it in, think---this is my son, given up. That a bruiser of bruised man comes from dinner, that a twitchy thief of a woman sits at a table and talks. Because Alec is good. Because Maeve took him in, and told him to be good. 

Parker’s hands tremble, when Maeve touches them with her own. “Yes,” Maeve says gently.  When she squeezes Parker’s hands, Parker ducks her head, but then---squeezes back. “He is. He is...very good indeed.”

.

Afterwards, Alec comes. For---some holiday, the next one. She loses track sometimes. (Between the children and the religions, there are a lot of holidays.)

Maeve kisses her son’s cheek, and says, “I like them,” in a fierce and decided tone. Watches Alec duck his head, and smile.

Dearest O'Malley Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When Gladys got too old to drive, I began to get antsy for a workout. Gladys retired in 1980 and by 1992; Nathan was born in Farmington New Mexico. I was handed over to Joe Popplewell to be driven and just to be a back up guy. Joe sure couldn’t drive me because he had to look so far up and out passed the hood to see the road, which frustrated him to the max. When I got a good look at Nathan as a baby. I was filled with joy. I’ve never been a father but at least I got to see what a baby is and what it looked like. Jan and Randy sure went through some trouble and back just to save him. I had heard something was going on with his heart or something that he had to be rushed to the Albuquerque hospital. I distinctively remember that I sure was worried-to-parts about this baby needing to be put in the ER. I smoked so many Pyramid full flavor 100 cigarettes that it took at least 8 butts just to calm me down. I had my suspicions that if Nathan never made it alive, I would be beaten down by Erik who was soon to be a careless pain in my prat and I would never see my life happy again. I was nervous that I wanted to know how the baby was doing. I had became so determined to hear the news on Nathan that I made a nasty habit of smoking cigarettes every day. When the day that Nathan came home, I was so relieved to know he was okay. After Nathan’s recovery, I knew I could quit smoking but I craved a butt and the taste drew me into an unhealthy lifestyle. I tried leaning towards working out and other distractions that was healthy but I wanted a cigarette. Finally, Joe got me on a quitter’s cycle; gum, patches, and hemp seed oil. It worked! I didn’t crave nicotine. When Jan would drive and smoke butts inside me, I didn’t even want a cig. At this time, Jan was working and living at Acacia Street, I was the only transportation Jan and Randy borrowed just until Jan had the resources to get another car. One morning, on my good mood, I was cruising down the road whistling “King of the whole wide world” by Elvis Presley, when people started to stare at me. I would just smile and wink just because I was in a good mood. While Jan was cleaning a house for a couple just down the road, I was waiting on the curb minding my own business. I seemed to be interesting to the sight of a glossy blue 1968 blue Chevrolet Impala. She seemed to be really interested. I was somewhat interested in her because I could tell when a female is interested in me because when she’s looking my way, she finds faults and quirks endearing and she realized my attraction was something she could learn. She had that sweet smell of heated oil and exhaust fumes radiating off her tailpipe. She had serious eyes for me that summer of 1993. The fumes caressed around my tailpipe and it made me feel crazy. Her name was Emma-Sue as she was leaning into me while she came closer into my personal space. She put on quite a revving roaring mating call with her huge V8 motor rumbled as she circled me. I held still as she was looking me over while I was getting a drippy stiffy. I was enjoying this interesting female’s attention and when Jan was all done cleaning house, the moment disappeared. Emma-Sue stopped and went back to the driveway. Jan got in and started me up steadily. Emma-Sue watched me leave until I was far away. I knew she was going to sneak over to my driveway to make heat and romance raise up tonight. Still in joy, I listened to many songs about love on tapes that included Elvis.

Many years into the future, it was the 15th year of that summer, I still hadn’t heard from Gonzo nor have I seen him. I missed him. I remembered when was Nathan was 2 years old, I had began to read him children’s stories using my talented voice to role in the characters even though I knew well that they had their dark origins when they were told. Boy, I really could entertain him when I did the right voices, and I loved it when Nathan laughed. It brought the flow of delight in my weekend days. While the parents were at work and Nathan was a curious little creature. He and I were spending time together and like every other two year old, Nathan pulled off one of my do-haws on the dashboard. It hurt but innocence comes in small packages. It was aright, I had pulled a few whiskers from my old man’s face and that’s just because I was a baby and wondered if the hairs would come off. When I would spend time with Nathan and when, I felt like I was already a dad. Nathan had started talking and he had called me “Papa” once a few times. Those were the days that were good to me.

Randy would drive me with Nathan along and the three of us would scoot ourselves into town when the parents had an off day. It was rare that Randy would take me out to town but we always had fun. I’d get comments of “I like your car” and “Nice car” which was aright. Every other day, I would get a car wash on my birthday and get detailed in August. I got wool seat covers one year on my birthday. After those days, I didn’t really care about presents on my birthdays. While Nathan was first home schooled, I’d sit in the carport to protect me from the weather’s rain and storms. I would always be up here once or twice a month to keep Ozzy company. Back in 2000, Joe bought him from PESCO, a place where he used to work at. Ozzy was a 1991 Ford explorer just sitting in the parking lot. He basically was used for lifting Carol in and out because Carol couldn’t stand on her feet any longer. Ozzy was there for the job. I had no envy towards Ozzy and since he was a sweet little bugger, I got along better after a break from the hectic storm with the morons living outside. Before, I knew it Ozzy was my little roommate. When I asked Ozzy how much he was sold for, the results shocked me. He was 4 grand and like many old things, there has to be a second wheel to accompany the leader. Ozzy’s lift was very useful because every time, Carol had a doctor’s appointment, Ozzy just picked her up with his ramp and he was ready to scoot. I basically came up there to get away while Ol’ Reliable was giving me attitude. I’d be invited in and I’d park next to the fireplace. I watched a little bit of the news with Joe and Jimmy Swaggart with Carol for 30 minutes tops until I fall asleep. Every hour or so, I’d make myself at home on the couch. Sometimes Nathan would come up to visit and sit with me to check on things.

Some time that Fall, Randy couldn’t get me to start up because now that Jan had the resources to afford a secondary car. It was a Jeep Liberty that I didn’t like. Jan had a loan on it and that could lead to rough road later in the future. Randy had bought a Plymouth voyager van and that was all I could accept. But whenever Randy would visit Joe if I was giving him issues, Joe would come to the rescue. I liked Joe because he could fix anything. Often Joe would fuss at Randy because he smoked and asked him to quit. I knew Randy wanted to quit tobacco butts but he couldn’t give it up on how much he had to follow. Jan tried to get her husband to stop, but Randy was antsy to have a butt to smoke. At night, when I was ready to get back to Jan’s house, Nathan and Randy would watch TV together because he couldn’t sleep. I sure didn’t mind staying up late because I could sleep with noise. Even when Nathan had a school night. The couch I was just as comfy as a bed was.

I remember when Nathan was a kid and every Easter, I dressed my best, in that horrid bowtie. I had thought I would never wear it again as long as I lived. But it wasn’t the last time I wore it. I had to wear it again for occasions later. I also remember when Nathan got candy but tucked it away never to be seen again. He didn’t used to eat a lot of candy. I had been in my wild 30s and I had a tradition of burning a little rubber off for the spring seasons to hype up my jive. Each Monday was fill the fridge and cupboard day and which I had to carry 23 bags of groceries from the store and it was my work out for the week. I could always tell when it was time to go shopping. So one Monday night, I had just zoomed in loaded with groceries, I noticed my shocks were getting sore and bad as much as my wheel bearings were creaky but at least it was nice to see Miss Gizmo who was always there to greet everyone. Now for Tuesdays, which were my resting days to take it easy and do what I want. A day to recover. I got to relax at Randy’s work and take the weight off my sores and pains. Even though he worked at a quality building between Aztec and Bloomfield, Randy had gotten on SSI to help pay for his health and that took more of the pain off my joints. It was a matter of time before he could stop working and rest.