Fic: Atomic Tangerine
Title: Atomic Tangerine
Rating: PG
Summary: For kennagirl's prompt: Leverage, team, trying to decorate their individual areas when they have to switch offices
Hardison stayed inside Lucille and watched them. It wasn’t that he was scared of them. God, they were his team. He hadn’t been so close to anyone since Nana died. But he didn’t know them.
Nate and Sophie followed each other from office to office to kitchen to bedroom to office. He didn’t look at Sam’s sketch on the wall and she ignored her own plans of the Louvre and neither of them paid attention to the Red Sox game on TV and when they sat down an put on Netflix, neither of them watched Psych either.
Parker didn’t stay in one spot and Eliot did a really good job at pretending he didn’t know exactly where Hardison was, no matter how many ways she asked. Eliot did his Tai Chi thing on an old gray rug and Hardison used the zoom to watch his muscles and then, because he wouldn’t have to admit it to anyone ever, his face. And then, embarrassed with himself, he switched to Parker’s office. It was empty, except for the computer he gave her and a sad looking cactus. The cactus came from Eliot.
He played around a bit, pretending to read XKCD and Penny Arcade, but always slipping back to watch the offices. And then he tried playing WOW, but even that didn’t hold his attention. He freaked a little when he changed cameras from watching the endless UST between Nate and Sophie to Eliot’s office. The workout room - because, really, that’s what he used it for - was empty. The rug was rolled up in the corner and even the chair was gone.
It wasn’t until he switched the feed to his office that his heart really started pounding, and not because his teammate and protection against thugs was gone. And it wasn’t because Parker wasn’t hanging off the roof anymore. The only thing the camera in his office was picking up was a piece of computer paper taped to the back of the chair that should have been in Eliot’s office. It said, “Please come home,” in Atomic Tangerine, the crayon color Parker kept stealing from CVS. He could see, just below the edge of the paper a pair of truly beat up Timberlands and a pair of black Converse.
Hardison thought about it for a second and then closed his laptop. Maybe he could watch them from inside.
Rating: PG
Summary: For kennagirl's prompt: Leverage, team, trying to decorate their individual areas when they have to switch offices
Hardison stayed inside Lucille and watched them. It wasn’t that he was scared of them. God, they were his team. He hadn’t been so close to anyone since Nana died. But he didn’t know them.
Nate and Sophie followed each other from office to office to kitchen to bedroom to office. He didn’t look at Sam’s sketch on the wall and she ignored her own plans of the Louvre and neither of them paid attention to the Red Sox game on TV and when they sat down an put on Netflix, neither of them watched Psych either.
Parker didn’t stay in one spot and Eliot did a really good job at pretending he didn’t know exactly where Hardison was, no matter how many ways she asked. Eliot did his Tai Chi thing on an old gray rug and Hardison used the zoom to watch his muscles and then, because he wouldn’t have to admit it to anyone ever, his face. And then, embarrassed with himself, he switched to Parker’s office. It was empty, except for the computer he gave her and a sad looking cactus. The cactus came from Eliot.
He played around a bit, pretending to read XKCD and Penny Arcade, but always slipping back to watch the offices. And then he tried playing WOW, but even that didn’t hold his attention. He freaked a little when he changed cameras from watching the endless UST between Nate and Sophie to Eliot’s office. The workout room - because, really, that’s what he used it for - was empty. The rug was rolled up in the corner and even the chair was gone.
It wasn’t until he switched the feed to his office that his heart really started pounding, and not because his teammate and protection against thugs was gone. And it wasn’t because Parker wasn’t hanging off the roof anymore. The only thing the camera in his office was picking up was a piece of computer paper taped to the back of the chair that should have been in Eliot’s office. It said, “Please come home,” in Atomic Tangerine, the crayon color Parker kept stealing from CVS. He could see, just below the edge of the paper a pair of truly beat up Timberlands and a pair of black Converse.
Hardison thought about it for a second and then closed his laptop. Maybe he could watch them from inside.