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fablesrose · 6 months

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Ch 3 - The Second David Job

Masterlist

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: Part two, the season finale. Y/n finally learns what Nate does for work and aids in the payback this time.

Words: 3049

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It was odd, I hadn’t heard from Nate almost the whole time I was staying in LA. I had tried to call him a couple of times, but when he did pick up, the phone calls were brief, he wouldn’t tell me where he was, and just seemed secretive and dodgy. More than usual at least.

Maggie was busy helping at the museum, and with the Blackpoole exhibit being set up, she was working overtime. I mostly stayed at her apartment, working on my laptop that I brought with me. Luckily this project that I was working on was coming to a close which should leave me free for the opening of the exhibit and then flying back to Boston. As nice as it was here in LA, I missed home. Realistically there was nothing keeping me here, I did love art, growing up with both Nate and Maggie as guardians, but I didn’t need to stay for the exhibit. I guess I kept expecting Nate to call me. I wanted to help him. I guess this client is here too though.

I got a call one afternoon from Maggie.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey y/n, can you take a break from your work today?”

I looked at the clock, I had been working for a while, “Yeah, I can do that. What’s going on?”

“I just got a call from Professor Sinclair asking to catch up, and I don’t really want to go alone, I feel like there might be something going on.”

“You want me to either crash or stalk you two on your date?” I couldn’t hide the displeasure from my voice.

“It’s not a date. Besides, he was much more into you when we met him last.” She had a slight tease in her voice that I scoffed at.

“I call bull. He didn’t call me to ask to catch up.” I felt my stomach twist a bit. Figures he would ask my hot divorced aunt out.

“I don’t think he has your number, y/n.”

“Touche.”

“Please? Just sit a few tables away and if you get uncomfortable there’s a couple of shops right around the corner that I know you’ll love. You can bail at any time.”

I sighed, “Fine, but you owe me. You treat me more like a cousin, or a sister than a niece, you know that?”

“You love me, see you there.”

“No comment.”

I walked in a little after Maggie, choosing a spot a couple tables away, behind Adam so I could see Maggie’s face. I was close enough that I could hear them if I wanted to, but far enough that I could tune out as well. I ordered water since I didn’t think I would be there long. Maggie was right though, the surrounding stores did look appealing.

I watched Maggie look Adam over, then make eye contact and wink at me when he wasn’t looking. Weird. I had no idea what that meant. I tuned into their conversation to see what was going on.

“We’re not going to talk about art all afternoon are we?” Maggie asked Adam.

All afternoon? I was definitely not staying that long.

Adam answered no.

“Good, that’s all my ex husband wanted to talk about. That was so tedious.” She said it with a smile.

I frowned. I knew they had their problems, that’s why they got divorced, but she never spoke about Nate like that. Especially to a virtual stranger. What is going on?

“Listen,” Maggie placed her hand over Adam’s on the table and I could see him stiffen, “I want to thank you. I haven’t dated much since my marriage broke up.”

I groaned. Of course she conned me, it was obviously a date. I couldn’t stand this much longer and started to gather my things. When I looked up she had forceful eye contact with me that told me to stay put.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Adam replied.

“No, don’t be. He was obsessive, perfectionist, controlling.”

“He must have had some good qualities.”

Maggie scoffed, “No, not even in bed.”

I sputtered in my water. Gross, I did not want to hear this. I begged Maggie for mercy across the room.

“But worst of all, he completely forgot that I gave him that same button camera for Christmas three years ago.” She smiled and waved me over.

I was so confused, but got up and joined them. Adam turned around and saw me, his face defeated.

“Hey y/n.”

I nodded, “Adam.”

Maggie marched over to a van in the parking lot and I followed quickly after. She opened it to reveal the airport receptionist, the Italian woman, the second David seller, and Nate, all sitting together.

“I can explain.”

The drive to the random mansion was dead silent, but once we arrived, Maggie and Nate started arguing. I figured I would get my chance to rip him apart afterwards, so I didn’t join in yet. I stood in the doorway glancing between them arguing and the others grouped at the stairs.

“I feel used.” The guy who I thought was named Adam said.

I turned a bit towards them, “Same.”

Maggie stormed outside with Nate close behind, “It’s going great,” he said as he walked out the door.

The former Italian woman, now British, replied, “we can tell!”

The house was eerily quiet once the yelling was gone.

“So,” I looked at the four people in front of me, “are you this team Nate mentioned for his consulting thing he was doing? If that is what was going on? Or whatever?”

The young man who posed as the second David seller spoke up first, “yeah, that’s us. He didn’t lie to you about that, just the means of which we do it. I’m Hardison, resident computer guy. Thanks for the help with the supplement lawsuit thing I had to do.”

That made me smile, “Glad to hear I was of any help at all.”

The British woman approached me next, her hand outstretched, “Sophie, actor, art thief, grifter, take your pick.” She smiled with a confidence I could never hope to achieve when I shook her hand.

Hardison introduced Parker as a thief before the last member stood from the stairs and stepped up to me.

“And I’m Eliot, official title is retrieval specialist, these guys call me a hitter.” When he wasn’t acting as Adam, his voice was a bit gruffer, a little deeper. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his long hair down. I noticed without his glasses just how blue his eyes were.

“Well, it seems you might have some other talents too. Those soup recipes were a lifesaver.”

His lips quirked up toward a smile and I thought I saw some color in his cheeks before he ducked his head in a nod and went to sit down again.

Nate and Maggie came back and she came up to me, tears still in her eyes, “did… did you know about Sam’s treatment?”

I looked between her, Nate, and the rest of the team, “I had an inkling. They wouldn’t pay for it right?” I looked at Nate to see the slight nod, “Who do you think helped Nate do the research on it?” My lip quivered thinking back. How happy we were that we might have found something that would help, but it didn’t make a difference. I was in the middle of a project, across the country when they called. Sam died.

Nate came and placed a hand on my shoulder before pulling me into a hug, Maggie joining shortly after.

It was decided to regroup the next day to go over the plan.

“And that, that’s the plan.” Nate placed a final push pin with string attached to the board with all the designs.

“You actually expect this to work?” Maggie was clearly skeptical.

“No no, you’re supposed to say ‘wow, that’s just crazy enough to work.’” Hardison replied.

“Incredibly, chance does seem to bend itself to his bizarre machinations” Sophie commented with a relaxed air.

Parker leaned next to Maggie’s ear, “that’s his super power.” She sniffed her shoulder as she pulled away.

Maggie looked over to me and I just shrugged.

“Okay, now, do you have what we need?” Nate asked Maggie.

“I have to check museum inventory.”

“Oh, easy.”

Hardison typed his way on his laptop before turning it toward Maggie.

“This is confidential, you’re not reading my emails are you?”

Hardison quickly responded, “no, no,” before nodding at Nate that he did.

I piped up, “I was right, you do a lot more exciting things on your computer than I do.”

Hardison smiled at me before Maggie confirmed.

“This is the only thing big enough for what you need.” She turned the laptop toward Nate.

“Great. Okay, now how soon can you get that in the restoration room?”

“Now that’s not my department. You have to convince the museum director Darien Lloyd to pull it from the display.”

“Okay.”

“Nate?”

“Hmm?”

“You can’t just make somebody do what you want them to do.”

There was a pause before Eliot said, “Whoa!”

“That’s what we do, I mean…” Hardison laughed.

“You’re adorable,” Parker said while stroking Maggie’s hair.

I had to admit, “That’s a bit naive, even for you Maggie. Our society is built on persuasive techniques and making people do things, for various reasons.”

Everyone just looked at me and nodded as I shrugged.

We quickly got going to set up the con. Maggie, Sophie, and Parker were at the museum while Nate, Harison, Eliot, and I were at the mansion watching and listening through cameras and comms. We watched and listened as there was a handoff between Parker and Maggie which led to Maggie subtly pushing the director towards the Egyptian room, all while laying clues for the con on him.

Sophie then dropped hints about the curse surrounding the sarcophagus while posing as a museum director from Cairo.

Eliot leaned over to me, “Good call about the curse by the way.”

Hardison concurred, “yeah, look, he’s already scared, he’s looking up all the places the sarcophagus was before there, lots of dead people. D-E-D dead people.”

Nate and Eliot both spelled dead correctly.

“I was throwing a little style up, just a little bit. A little style. I know how to spell dead, damn it. I can steal a bank, I can spell dead.”

I laughed, “Thanks, but I think it really comes down to Sophie and Maggie’s setup here, along with your expert hacking skills with those articles, Hardison.”

“You are a flatterer, woman. Are you sure this guy raised you?”

I shouldered Nate next to me, “unfortunately.”

I could feel his glare, but I just watched as Maggie hit the point home talking about the supposed fungus that surrounded Egyptian artifacts that were claimed to be cursed.

The boys left shortly after to move the sarcophagus, leaving me at the mansion. I looked over the plans a couple of more times while they were gone. Maggie stayed at the museum while everyone else came back. They got to working on something when Nate came into the planning area where I was.

“So what do you think?”

“I don’t know yet, I guess we’ll just have to see how this plays out.”

“No,” Nate stepped up next to me, “I mean, about all of this, the whole thing.”

I looked up at him, “I wish you would have told me. Why didn’t you? Did you think I wasn’t going to approve or something?”

“I just didn’t want you wrapped up in it.”

I hummed at him. “Well I think you are doing some pretty cool things, I’d be happy to be a part of it. Not that I could help much.”

“Maybe.”

There was some commotion behind us with the rest of the group arguing a bit before it fell quiet. I started walking towards the entry where they were, “It seems like you have a good team here though. I’m glad you have them, that you have each other.”

“They are the best.”

“That’s good…” I stared at the portrait they had hung on the mantle, “what is that?”

Nate looked at the picture of himself, just much older, “Don’t ask.”

“Okay.”

The next day was when the exhibit opened. Everyone had their roles and places for the day. Now, just to put it in motion.

Nate and I entered the museum arm in arm when Blackpoole and Sterling approached.

“Well well well, what the hell are you doing here?”

Nate held up two tickets, “Well I bought some tickets for me and my niece. It’s open to the public.”

“I don’t think…” Sterling started to say, glancing between the two of us.

“Of course, enjoy yourselves.” Blackpoole let us pass.

After looking at the art for a while, there was loads of commotion and chaos, just as planned. I let Nate go to the roof while I rendezvoused with the others. We watched as he dropped down from the skylight. The security system activated, locking us in.

“Let’s go to work.”

I helped them complete the task before they slipped me back outside in the crowd where I found Maggie.

“Maggie, what’s going on? I got separated from Nate in the confusion, have you seen him?”

Sterling was right next to us along with Blackpoole and the museum director. Sterling stared at me accusingly, but didn’t say anything.

I followed them inside the building, once we reached the closed exhibit doors Sterling said, “This is your last chance Maggie. Come clean.” He looked over to me, “you too y/n.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The doors finally opened to reveal Nate standing in a spotlight in front of the two Davids, in their case.

“The two Davids,” Blackpoole giggled, “Thank God.”

“Got you Nate,” Sterling said.

“Yes, that was the whole point,” Nate replied.

“What do you mean?”

“You know all that chasing me around? ‘Don’t let Nate Ford near the two Davids, how’s Nate Ford going to get the two Davids?’ I wasn’t the mastermind on this one, Sterling… I’m the bait.”

He counted down from three for the lights to come on and reveal the walls, empty from all the art that previously decorated it.

Blackpoole broke down in disbelief and horror. There was over $150 million worth of art that was missing. And he was responsible for all of it. It was insured by IYS which would cause a major hit to his career and company.

“Well done,” Sterling had to admit.

Blackpoole grabbed a gun off of a guard’s belt and pointed it at Nate’s head, “where are they?! Where are they?!”

“Nate!” I yelled, I took a step forward, but Maggie grabbed my hand.

“Clear the room!” Sterling demanded. A guard pulled the two of us away, both of us scared for him.

We both had comms, which helped us hear the conversation better. Nate told Sterling the terms of getting the art back for destroying Blackpoole. Sterling agreed, almost too eagerly.

Blackpoole pointed the gun at him “No. Sterling, you work for me,” He swung back towards Nate, “IYS is my company!”

Nate responded immediately, “Can’t let personal feelings affect policy. You have a responsibility to shareholders. No exceptions.” He threw Blackpoole’s own words back at him. Nate took the gun out of his hands, “I have lost my only son. Do you really think you scare me? Huh?”

Maggie squeezed my hand and I squeezed back.

Blackpoole came rushing towards us, “Maggie, well, you understand.”

She let go of my hand, stepped up to him, and gave him a wicked right hook to the face. I stepped up and kicked him once while he was down.

Maggie smiled at me with a thoughtful look, “screw therapy, that felt really good.”

She walked off, and after exchanging a few words with Sterling, Nate came up, hooked arms with me and we both walked out the front door.

Later, that day the three of us were sitting in the empty exhibit room, waiting for the call.

“Are you going to stop now?” Maggie asked Nate.

“I don’t know.”

“Interesting.”

Nate hummed in a question.

“You admitting you don’t know something.”

Nate’s phone rang, and he answered it, listened then hung up. “It’s done. Blackpoole’s out.”

“Time to return the artwork?” I asked.

“I think so,” he replied.

He lifted the seat cover we were sitting on to reveal an opening down to the restoration room. We all climbed down.

When I got close to the bottom, Eliot grabbed my hand with one hand on my waist to guide me, “Careful sweetheart.”

I grabbed his hand a little tighter and felt myself blush at the nickname.

We admired the art surrounding us before leaving the room from behind the sarcophagus.

Nate and Sophie explained how they would seal and replace the floor tiles and then move the art to the loading dock to make it look like they came from the outside.

Maggie approached Nate, “You are not the man I married.”

I quickly decided I didn’t want to be in the middle of that conversation and dashed off behind the others.

After we had finished the work of moving the artwork, Parker and I helped oversee the sealing of the floor. We gathered at the back of the museum, clearly about to part ways.

I looked at each of them, “Are you guys gonna keep doing this? Am I ever gonna see you all again?”

They looked at each other for a moment before Eliot stepped up to me, “uh, we don’t know. Hope so.” He touched my elbow gently before pulling away.

I smiled at him before looking at the others, “Good enough for me… I guess this is bye.”

Hardison and Eliot nodded.

“I guess so,” Parker said.

I nodded once more before stepping into Maggie’s car and driving back to her apartment.

The next two weeks were mundane after that. I finished the LA project and flew back home to Boston. It was reaching into that third week afterwards that I got a phone call from Nate.

“Hey, I’m lookin’ for a place… Got anything in mind?”

Tags: @isoldeahlstrom

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

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leverage-ot3 · 1 year

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after further review, I can say with 100% certainty that maggie and sophie have fucked at least once

#I am rewatching the second david job and they had VIBES #when she was off finding herself in s2 for sure #also didn’t they say it in one of the commentaries???#sophie x maggie #maggie x sophie #sophie devereaux #sophie devereaux headcanons #maggie collins #maggie collins headcanons #headcanons #the second david job #lgbt

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theinfinitedivides · 1 month

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the David Jobs................ oh God the David Jobs no notes 10/10 rating if they had taken them away from me and not come back for the next seasons i would have been bereft

#tv: leverage #leverage #leverage s1 #the first david job #the second david job #local gay watches Leverage (or their first American series in f*cking years and gets a shiny new OT3 to show for it).txt #thank you God i live in the timeline where i get five seasons of this look at my children!!!!!!!!!!! you expect me to leave them you are #a cruel and wicked person do not talk to me (the team has me hook line and sinker)

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lemissingmask · 2 years

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[ID: Sketches from the juror, first David and second David jobs. Top is Eliot arguing with Nate about 'Alice' reporting for jury duty and Nate raising a finger to interrupt him while Hardison looks to the side, towards Parker. Next down is Parker excitedly clasping Nate and Eliot's shoulders with the David statue she and Hardison just stole on the table in front of them, and both Nate and Eliot looking bemused. Next down is Hardison and Eliot sitting on the stairs and Parker leaning on the banister nearby, around when Eliot says "I feel used". At the bottom are three sketches of Eliot, Hardison and Parker at the moment the team are all walking away at the end of the final episode of the season. End ID]

Season 1 random sketches with bonus pre-OT3 about to go separate ways close ups. Compare to all smushed together at the same end of a three-seater couch post s5 finale that I imagine as they have sci-fi marathon with Eliot's hand made special recipe popcorn and hot chocolate to cheer themselves up.

#leverage #nathan ford #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #the juror number 6 job #the first david job #the second david job #season 1 #leverage ot3

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bloodonhissocks · 2 years

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I'm again overwhelmed by the force of nature whose name is Maggie Collins and I'm in love with her phenomenal debut in the last two episodes of season 1. Originally, I just wanted to talk about her phone conversation with Eliot/Adam Sinclair and their subsequent date. Nate's pacing behind Eliot as he rambles about how long it took to just get coffee with her followed by Eliot's immediate success at securing a date is comedic gold. And the way she dominated the conversation during the date by absolutely roasting Nate was incredible.

I had just wanted to scream about how amazing Maggie was during these scenes, but my roommate told me that his theory was that Maggie knew all along. Not everything, of course, but she knew that Nate was involved and listening. I only thought that it was funny for Eliot to score a coffee date so easily since it was so difficult for Nate, but if Maggie knew all along...well, that just makes everything so much more brilliant.

It makes sense, too. Having been married to Nate, Maggie knew his ego would be hung up on how long it took for them to get coffee in the past, so she deliberately agrees to set up a date with Eliot/Adam immediately because she knows exactly how much that will bother Nate. Later during the date, she clearly begins a conversation that revolves around Nate and keeps it there...because she knows he's listening. Every expression and comment is purposeful. Eliot asks her, "You come here a lot?" and she answers, "No. I just wanted to see you" with that expression on her face and that smile and the camera cuts to a close-up of Eliot's "wtf am I supposed to say to Nate's ex-wife" face. The wonky music, the knowing look and body language Maggie exhibits, and the moving shot to the van that the team is in—she knows, she has to have known the whole time.

Anyways, that was my Maggie Collins Appreciation™ rant, but now that I'm fully invested in this theory, new questions have flooded my mind. When did Maggie find out? Did she realize it on her own? How much of it had to do with Eliot/Adam's "ghosting" and the disappearance of Nate and "Portia"? Like, if you think about it, Maggie was completely uninvolved with the Sterling takeover at the end of The First David Job. Parker and Hardison got caught, but the team was able to escape and consequently split up. Maggie doesn't return until Eliot calls her. Obviously, Blackpoole has obtained both of the David statues, but as far as Maggie knows, she verified the "second David," so it's not out of the ordinary that Blackpoole is putting both on display. But then "Adam Sinclair," "Portia," and Nate suddenly vanish and "Adam" doesn't call until three months later since that's when The Second David Job begins following the events at the end of The First David Job. I doubt Blackpoole or Sterling filled her in on what actually happened. So, did she realize? How much did she realize? How did she know Nate was involved and how much he was involved? How did she know that "Adam" was not really "Adam"? This theory makes so much sense to me, but now there are such interesting gaps that aren't necessarily super significant to the overall plot of the last two episodes, BUT LIKE I NEED ANSWERS—

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kookicat · 1 year

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The Scars That You Can't See

"Why don't you sit down?" Sophie asks, after Eliot makes a third or fourth slow lap of the hotel suite they've rented and retreated to for the night. They'll go their own ways in the morning but there's stuff to sort out first. She dismisses the morning plans and returns her attention to their hitter, who quite frankly looks like hell.

He's wavering on his feet, exhaustion plain on his face which is drawn and pale. He hesitates for a second, then shoots her what he hopes is a disarming grin, though it feels more like a grimace. "Can't." He gives up the pretense, because he's pretty sure she's seeing right through it, which is unnerving. "Tweaked my back. Sitting ain't really an option."

Or a good idea, he thinks, because once he's down, he's going to be staying that way for a while, until the spasms pass. Being stuck in a chair sounds like hell. Better to be on his feet, keep moving, just in case. Better to stay on his feet, because then he's mobile and ready. Better to stay on his feet, no matter the cost, because then he doesn't have to rely on the team and the still-fragile trust between them.

"Has it happened before?" she asks, and there's a tone in her voice he's never heard before. "What do you usually do?"

He glances at her again, lounging on the couch in fancy silk PJs, feet clad in soft slippers, every single thing about her totally at odds with his life. He's not sure if it's the concussion or the exhaustion or just that she looks horrified on his behalf, but the words slip out easy. "Yes," he says and makes another slow lap of the room, flicking the big light off as he passes because his head is pounding and the throbbing is making his stomach churn. The lamps cast a muted light that's much easier to bear. "This, usually. Hot bath if I can." He waves a dismissive hand, nearly bites through his lip when the muscles across the bottom of his back cramp from the movement. Realises too late that he hasn't managed to keep the pain off his face, because her hand lands on his shoulder and he finds himself leaning into the touch, eyes drifting closed before he snaps them open again.

"Come on," Sophie says, and he can't find the energy to argue, not when she's rubbing comforting circles on his shoulder with the flat of her hand. It's nowhere near the pain and yet it helps, somehow.

The hotel suite has four bedrooms. He'd planned on sacking out on the plush leather couch, but the sight of the king size bed nearly sends him to his knees. He aches all over, broken ribs throbbing even after a double dose of ibuprofen. His bag and kit is somewhere, but he's just too damn tired to hunt for it. He's past the point of the prescription muscle relaxants doing much good anyway, and the heavy duty painkillers he packed are always dicey on an empty stomach. And puking while I feel like this.. He winces at the thought.

"What do you need?" she asks, and tugs the coverlet off the bed, leaving just the duvet and pillows, soft and white and so fluffy the urge to lay down is almost overwhelming.

He glances down at his feet, feeling weirdly shy all of a sudden, but her hand lands on his shoulder again and the moment passes. "Heat packs will help." He rubs the back of his neck and her fingers probe the spot where the long muscles run down into his shoulder. "I have drugs, but they don't do much. Just rest, really. Gotta wait for it to pass."

He knows he should shut whatever this is down, should step away, retreat to the couch, but it feels too good to be touched with gentleness and he can't make his feet move. Can't remember the last time he let someone close enough to touch him, not unless there was sex involved, and that's a whole other thing to whatever this new intimacy between them is.

She finds the knot and starts a careful massage that sends warmth through him for more than one reason. It's not often he lets himself be touched like this, for comfort, with no expectation of more. The realisation makes him tense, and she tsks, fingers still working on the knot.

It relaxes, after a few minutes of careful manipulation and he can't stop the shaky breath of relief that eases out of him.

"You're good at that," he says and rolls his neck, carefully, because the muscles across the bottom of his back are still cramping badly enough that the pain is running down his legs.

"I spent three months training at a Swiss spa to catch a mob boss who had the best collection of pink diamonds a girl has ever seen." She pats his arm, gently, and grins. "Man had a back like a bear. All thick black hair. It was like massaging a pig." She shudders, dramatically, nose wrinkling. "But it paid off. Twenty minutes of massaging the lout, and I got an invite to his villa. Three days after that, the diamonds and I were back in London."

He has plenty of war stories of his own, but he can't think of anything that won't horrify her even more. "Sounds like quite the sacrifice," he murmurs, lip quirking when she snorts in a very unladylike way.

She's studying him, in a quiet way that makes his hackles rise, because usually no good comes from that sort of look. "Why don't you lie down?"

He thinks about it, runs up against a huge wall of nope inside his head, and can't figure out a way of saying that without it sounding like he doesn't trust her which will take them into an area he has no desire to go. He just doesn't have the energy for it, for a start.

"Eliot," she says and the exasperation is plain in her voice. "You're no use to anyone like this. You need rest."

He sighs, shrugging before he thinks about it, and his entire back seizes up in a wave that steals his breath and paints his vision with vivid red spots. He knows she's talking to him, but he can't think past the agony, can't focus on anything else but the awful cramping. When it eases, he's sitting on the bed, with Sophie eyeing him with clear alarm. One hand is rubbing slightly frantic circles on his arm, the other resting on his shoulder. "Eliot, tell me what you need!" she says.

"Heat packs," he croaks and eases himself down, pulling his knees up to take some of the pressure off his back. It helps, even if the movement sends shooting pains through his body.

It’s not the first time he’s thrown his back out, but it’s damn inconvenient when they’re in a hotel, because if he was at home, he’d hole up in the tub and let the hot water work its magic. The damned hotel only has a shower, and he’s feeling sore and shaky enough not to want to risk it, because falling on his ass twice in one day would really push him over the edge.

It takes him a second to realise that she's vanished and he closes his eyes, blowing out a careful breath, trying to get his muscles to relax through sheer force of will. It's about as effective as he expects it to be and he gives up, listening to the sounds in the suite instead.

There's a couple arguing outside, voices rising and falling in a pattern he knows all too well, but they're too far away for him to understand the words. The coffee pot in the kitchenette hisses. Nate, he thinks, making coffee like it'll actually hide how much he's drinking. Faint typing comes through the wall, oddly comforting, because if he's learned one thing while working with the team, it's that Hardison is meticulous about covering their tracks after a job. He can't hear Parker, but the hotel minibar had been stocked with good chocolate and mini boxes of Lucky Charms, and he figures she's perched somewhere high eating enough sugar to fuel a small country. Girl has the metabolism of a hummingbird, he thinks, and blinks in mild surprise when he realises he's smiling.

Shuffling footsteps coming back towards his room make him roll his head towards the door, body tensing without his conscious thought until Sophie steps into his view.

"I couldn't get heat packs," she says, and his heart sinks, "but the hotel sent up a plug in heating pad and I guess it'll work the same."

His bag lands on the bed next to his head, along with a bottle of apple juice. "Thanks, Sophie," he says, and braces himself to move, holding his breath because he knows it's going to to suck. "I got it."

"You got it?!" she echoes, voice rising enough to make him wince. "You can hardly stand, Eliot!"

"I'm layin' down…" he mutters, and realises a second too late that it's exactly the wrong thing to say.

Oh, shit, he thinks as she glares down at him. "You are now. But left to your own devices, you'd still be doing fucking laps of the hotel room because-"

Oh shit, he thinks again, because the outburst is suddenly making a whole lot of sense. "Sophie," he says, quietly, and she snaps her mouth closed hard enough that her teeth click together.

"Let me plug this in," she says, keeping her eyes fixed on the fluffy pad.

"This ain't your fault," he says and shifts slightly, teeth sinking into the inside of his lip as his back spasms again. "That fight would have happened no matter what you did."

"How do you do it?" she asks, fingers toying with the controls so she doesn't have to look at him. "Head into jobs knowing that you're going to come out hurt?"

"I don't think about it, much," he says, honestly. "Just do what I gotta do and let the chips fall how they will."

There's a nasty little dark corner of his brain where he locks all the bad shit away. Locks the fear of a devastating injury in there too, because to do what he does, he can't think about it. Can't go into every fight with a swarm of what ifs buzzing around his head like angry wasps.

"Now, you wanna pass that heating pack somewhere useful?"

"Only if you take your drugs first," she says, and some of the tension has left her face.

Taking the pills means moving and he's tolerably comfortable as long as he stays still, at least for the moment. But the pain will be worth it, if taking them eases the misplaced guilt Sophie is carrying. And admit it, you've never been able to say no to any of them…it's just like Damien Moreau all over again.

It could be, because Nate is the flip side of the coin to his old boss, but it isn't, and the way Sophie is looking at him right now is the difference. "Fine," he says and eases over onto his side, holding back the grunt of pain by sheer bloody minded stubbornness. The change in position reignites every irritated nerve and damaged muscle, and he feels the blood drain out of his face. His stomach rolls and he grits his teeth, breathing slowly. Because I'm pretty sure if I puke I'm going to pass out and she's freaked out enough, he thinks.

Warmth settles over his lower back in a soothing blanket and he manages to unclench his fingers from the sheets.

"Better?" Sophie asks, and cranks the heat to max.

"Oh yeah," he breathes, then hesitates, the wall of nope in his brain showing up again. "Can you-" he starts, then stops, because he's still not used to being able to ask for help. "Can you stick a pillow between my knees?" he gets out in a rush, and instantly wishes that he could take the words back.

She grabs one, push and fat and fluffy, from the bed and wedges it between his knees. It helps, takes some of the strain off his lower back and the spasm eases a little.

He pulls the pill case from his bag, fumbling because between the heat and the relief if just lying down, the exhaustion is hitting hard, suddenly.

"Which ones?" She takes the case, looking at him expectly.

"Two pink, one yellow." Two Diclofenac, which he knows he's going to regret taking on an empty stomach and a muscle relaxant. He swallows the pills with a gulp of apple juice, knows they're going to hit quick because the last thing he ate was a questionably fresh bagel at the breakfast buffet.

"I really am sorry for what I did," Sophie says. "If you need anything else, I'll be on the sofa," she adds, softly, and heads towards the door.

"Soph," he calls and she stops, turning to look at him.

He gestures behind him, carefully, to the wide expanse of unused bed. "There's plenty of space, and I don't snore."

It's an olive branch and a new step on their path and he offers it carefully, because he's not sure how much trust they've rebuilt and how much they still have to go. But they have to start somewhere, if the team is going to keep functioning, and this is all he can offer right now.

She closes the door and walks back, clicking the big lamp off as she passes so the room falls into twilight.

"I do," she mummers, and eases down on the bed so she doesn't jostle him.

"You do?" he asks, slowly, voice heavy with sleep.

"Snore," she says, and clicks the light out.

#leverage #eliot spencer #fanfic #whump #fanfiction #writing #emotional whump #eliot spencer needs a hug #sophie devereaux #the second david job

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