Fic: Burn (1/3), Crossover Leverage/A:tS, NC-17

[elebridith]

Title: Burn
Author: elebridith
Rating: NC-17. Slash, swearing.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Nothing, no one. Just playing.
Genre: Slash, Crossover A:tS/Leverage
Pairings: Eliot/Lindsey. Minor Sophie/Nate. Pre-Parker/Hardison.
Summary: He was pretty sure that it was written all over his face - and with immaculate timing Eliot turned his head and looked his way.

Beta'd by havenward , with endless patience for my crazy run-ons. She also wears now the badge of "The Southernifyer". A million thanks, hun, this wouldn't be here without you! *smishes*

A/N: Set in my Face Value!Verse. About two months after Face Value chapter three, follows "Dreams". Oh, and The Smile? First pic in my sidebar. :-)

Special thanks to honeyjojames  for all the bunny feeding! *hugs*


Lindsey ran a hand through his short brown locks. He felt a little frustrated. Or more accurately, a whole lot frustrated.

All in all, life had finally gone uphill after he came to Chicago and Nathan had decided to trust him enough to join the team. The others had accepted it without any fuss, even Sophie, who had been reluctant at first but now treated him no differently than the others. Lindsey still wasn't sure that the team believed everything he had told them about his previous life as lawyer from Evil, Inc., but he knew that their own lives had been crazy enough to give him a benefit of doubt. He'd already worked jobs with them, although he mostly did research and file work, and had taken up combat training lessons with Eliot to stay in shape. The others had gotten used to his physical resemblance to Eliot some time ago, but to distinguish them both at least a little bit he'd cut his hair short again and had dropped the Urban Cowboy look in favor of a more casual style.

He was keeping a low profile at the moment. Lindsey McDonald had officially died in Los Angeles, but he already had a new identity thanks to Hardison's talents. He had adamantly insisted on picking his new name by himself - he had no intention of ending up with a geeky last name like Skywalker, Tennant or Harkness.

In about three to four months he would have a condo of his own. Nathan had overheard a conversation that a couple who lived in the same building as them would move out and sell their condo. Although Nathan didn't have a problem letting him stay in his guest room Lindsey wasn't willing to take advantage of his generosity longer than necessary. So Nathan had pulled some strings to get him on top of the list of interested buyers and everything was in clean sheets now.

Money wasn't a problem. Like all good Wolfram & Hart employees Lindsey had stashed away some cash under a false name in a hidden bank account... just in case. As it turned out, it wasn't as hidden as he had hoped - the account had already been frozen when he tried to access it a week after his "death". Lindsey clenched his teeth at the memory. I wonder if Wolfram & Hart knew about everybody that did this? Probably.

Luckily there had been no magical protections, and Lindsey saw for the first time just how good Hardison really was. The hacker had taken up the challenge, gleeful as ever, and within a few days had managed to transfer the money from the frozen account to another one he'd set up for Lindsey. He was not explicit on details, but somehow the transfer looked as if it had been made a week before Lindsey's official expiration date and the money had gone into a Swiss account that had been wiped two days later. Hardison had chuckled a lot as he had planted false trails that would lead anyone looking for the money on a fruitless wild goose chase. And Lindsey had freely admitted that the thought of some poor W & H employees still searching Switzerland for the hidden cash had its entertainment value.

Lindsey decided that Leverage Consulting & Associates could be described as a bunch of friends. In a very loose way, maybe, but friends nevertheless, and in the past two months he had found a place among them and it felt damn good. Team. And meaning it.

There was just one little thing.

He already knew a lot about the others. About Nathan's son, his divorce, his alcoholism. About Hardison's enthusiasm for science fiction and orange soda, and his crush on Parker. He knew Sophie's favorite perfume. (By pure chance it was the same one that Lilah had preferred, which had irritated him a lot at first, but now he'd gotten used to it.) He even had endured a video of one of her acting gigs. It had taken all of his wit and his own acting skills to find some nice words about it after that, but it had been worth it - she had warmed up considerably after that. Parker was... Parker. With a very unique way of seeing the world. He was still getting used to her blunt outbursts, but at least she hadn't stabbed him with a fork. Yet.

Which meant he was in the dark for only one team member. Eliot Spencer. He's like a freakin' oyster. Why do I know nothing about him?

It wasn't like he didn't know anything at all - oh no. He knew that the man was a kick-ass fighter, didn't like guns, had worked for the government, was engaged once - oh sorry, it was only a Promise Ring - could cook like a chef if he felt like it and had a shitload of anger bottled up inside him. So that was quite a lot - but none of it even scratched the surface. None of it told him who Eliot was.

Why doesn't he like guns? Where'd he learn to cook? Where'd he come from? What... Damn. I'm doing it again.

He wanted to know more about the man who had saved his life. Wanted it so badly that it almost reached the point of obsession, but he'd learned one thing very quickly - one does not, absolutely not, ask Eliot Spencer about his private life. Not unless you want a death glare and biting comments. Especially not if you're the one getting combat training from him. Lindsey made a face and unconsciously rubbed his leg as he remembered his last approach. It had ended in a whole set of bruises that could be translated as "don't ask me private questions ever again", although Eliot had kinda apologized afterwards. Lindsey sighed at the memory. It would have been a whole lot easier if he could just dismiss Eliot as a cold-hearted bastard who just happened to save him and probably regretted it by now.

Wish it would be that simple. It's not. Not with what he...

Lindsey couldn't forget the way Eliot had pulled him out of his self-loathing two months ago. And there was so much more. Lindsey had seen him give Sophie a shoulder massage after a very narrow escape from a runaway truck that left her really shaking, heard him rant and bitch about eating habits but getting orange soda and sweet cereals anyway while shopping for supplies. And whenever duty called for a hospital visit, Eliot volunteered, to spare Nathan the task.  Although he dismissed every thanks with a shrug and a grunted don't mention it, small details like that proved the existence of a soft spot in Eliot Spencer. Proved that he cared, even if he did a stellar job of hiding it. Who are you, Eliot? He almost growled in frustration. I'm getting nowhere with this. Better think of something else, this is...

The sound of a key in the door interrupted his musings. As the others entered the room, chatting excitedly, he was honestly glad about the distraction, given that there was no more file work he could do today. But the con they had just finished had been spectacular, and Nathan had decided that some kind of celebration was in order.

About half an hour later the first bottle of champagne was empty. Parker was already a little tipsy and Hardison amused everyone by re-enacting a funny scene from the scam he had been pulling. Everyone was laughing, and as Hardison heaped some praise on Eliot's head the guy actually smiled. Lindsey had seen him smile before - sometimes deliberately for some part he was playing, sometimes mockingly, very seldom just naturally, but never like this. Honest, real, even with a little affection, playing the praise down but flattered about it nevertheless.

Lindsey's breath got stuck in his throat. His own smile faltered as he realized - God, I want to kiss him. Kiss that smile just right off his lips. And keep it for me. How... When did that... He was pretty sure that it was written all over his face - and with immaculate timing Eliot turned his head and looked his way.

He hoped at first that Eliot hadn't seen it. Lindsey had quickly put back on his cocky grin, muttered something about more drinks and opened another champagne bottle. He poured it for the others, managing to avoid Eliot's glance even while refilling his glass. When the others focused on Hardison while he vividly told another story, Lindsey looked Eliot's direction again and knew that he hadn't been that lucky. Eliot directed a cold unreadable stare at him, the smile completely wiped out. Their eyes met for a brief second, and then Eliot turned his head again, putting on a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. Lindsey was just glad that no one else had noticed yet. He was suddenly sober again, made a hasty excuse about using the restroom, stood up quickly and practically fled the room.

Alone in the bathroom, he leaned against the cabinet, then slumped down on the floor. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair again, then curled his fingers up and pulled roughly.

Shit. I'm fucked.

***

Eliot didn't mention The Look. Not the next day, not later. Lindsey tried to act as normal as possible, and in the end was almost convinced that he had been imagining Eliot's Don't-Even-Think-About-It expression. On the other hand he couldn't shake the feeling that Eliot avoided being alone with him more than usual, outside of combat training. And a few times he caught Eliot looking at him with a weird expression that he couldn't read at all. All of this left him more and more uneasy.

A few days later, Lindsey sat in the kitchen, waiting for his tea to cool down to a drinkable temperature and playing absently with some cookies. He idly turned them between his fingers, even rearranged them on his plate. He wasn't really hungry, but felt restless and his fingers needed something to do. He lifted his head as he heard the kitchen door open and smiled as Nathan came in. "Hey. Had a good day?"

Nathan smiled back and nodded. "Tired now, but yeah." He grabbed a cup, poured himself some tea and sat down on the opposite site of the table and eyed Lindsey curiously, obviously noting that his smile had been a little forced. "How about you?" He sounded concerned, and when Lindsey didn't answer immediately, Nathan sat his cup down again without taking a sip. He leaned forward a little, and searched Lindsey's face. "Everything all right?"

Lindsey sighed, shoulders slumping a bit. He looked at Nathan and smiled a little reluctantly. "Yes. No. Don't know actually."

Nathan nodded slightly as if Lindsey had just confirmed a suspicion, and gave him a sympathetic look. "He's practically impossible to figure out."

Lindsey looked up, a little surprised. He dropped the cookie he'd been fiddling with back on the plate. "Am I that obvious?"

"That you're trying to get through to Eliot? Yeah. Blatantly obvious." Nathan grinned, just a teeny bit smug, and took a sip of his tea.

Lindsey felt wary all of a sudden and tried to hide it by emptying his cup with a few big swallows. 'Trying to get through' - did he see it? But if he did, he knows that I got a snowball's chance in hell. The question is, does he mind? He met Nathan's eyes and saw a spark of amusement in them. He's fuckin' reading me. Damn, he's good. Gotta keep up that guard better, Lindsey.

Nathan's expression shifted to a small soothing smile. "And so far you've failed, and you got frustrated about it. Don't worry, it's nothing personal. We've known him a lot longer than you and we actually don't know much about him either."

Lindsey felt slightly relieved at Nathan's sympathetic tone. But then Nathan's words sank in and Lindsey sighed again, frustration showing more and more. He rubbed his temples. "And why's that, Nate? Who... is he?"

Nathan emptied his own cup and shook his head. "He likes to keep his privacy. Sometimes he drops hints, and of course there are files with the basic facts, and I assume you have already read them. But you know as well as I do how little a file really says about a person."

Lindsey snorted out a small resigned sound. "No kiddin'."

Nathan stood up, fetched the tea and refilled the two cups, silent for a moment. Then he continued. "I would call him a friend, if just for the lack of a better word, and I'd trust him with my life. But do I know him? Probably better than anyone else, given for how long I chased him before we started working together." Nathan huffed out a humorless laugh. "And I'm pretty sure there are a few things that he wouldn't be happy if he knew that I know." He leaned back into his chair, and Lindsey didn't have to be an expert in body language to know that Nathan wouldn't say any more.

Lindsey slowly shook his head as he felt the now-familiar exasperation creeping in that showed itself every time he hit another Eliot-shaped wall. He could barely keep it out of his voice. "So where does he go when he ain't sleeping on your couch? I know he's got family left, but what about other friends?"

Nathan shrugged. "He has a small apartment on the other side of the town, under a false name. As for other friends? Sure. Some of his buddies even helped us out once." Nathan gave Lindsey an inquiring look and then nodded slowly. "But you mean close friends. Not that I know about. He considers them attachments, and he doesn't want that. Says he." For a moment there was a small enigmatic smile on Nathan's face, but was quickly replaced by his usual calm expression. "The closest people he has - that would be us."  He slowly took a careful sip of the hot tea and looked up again. "Eliot knows that if he loses control when he fights, people die. And he applies that rule on the rest of his life too. He thinks he has to."

Lindsey looked down at his plate and didn't say any more. He took Nathan's words and even more, the hidden sympathy in his expression, as "you can try, but don't be disappointed if you fail," and wasn't sure how he felt about that. At least he didn't straight out tell me that it's hopeless. But one way or the other, I gotta fix things with Eliot.

They continued their conversation with other topics until Nathan looked at the clock and stood up. "Sorry Lindsey, I'm going to call it a day. Have to catch up some sleep, the last week was hard." He grinned apologetically and stifled a yawn.

Lindsey stood up too, taking the last sip of his tea. He nodded at Nathan. "I should do that too, but..." He shrugged. "Gotta clear my head, maybe watch some TV. G'night, Nate."

They both left the kitchen. Nathan headed for his bedroom and Lindsey dropped on the couch in front of the TV. He switched in on, trying to distract himself from thinking about Eliot. About his reaction. About his own very confused feelings. But after half an hour of staring at some mixture of explosions, car chases and fight scenes, he suddenly noticed that he didn't even have a clue who the good guy or the bad guy was. He groaned in frustration and switched the TV off. Yeah, that worked really well.

He sighed and decided that since he still wasn't tired, he could at least try to come up with a way to sort things out with Eliot. He shook his head in amazement as he recalled the last two months. Funny how somehow along the way he had started to develop... What? Attraction? Feelings? He shut off that train of thought quickly before another word came up. Something for the other man, and the only thing that Lindsey was sure about right now was that he at least wanted to try to break down Eliot's walls.

I don't even know if he also likes guys. Hell, I don't even really... He clenched his teeth and balled his fists as an unwelcome memory appeared in his mind. No. Not the same. He forced it back, taking a few deep breaths. Looks like I gotta find out if he does. An' if he brushes me off - well, then that's another failed try in getting a somewhat healthy attachment. He grinned wolfishly at the memory. Yeah, Holland. Not what you had in mind either, I guess.

His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he heard the sound of the door opening. Eliot walked in, bag slung over his shoulder and wearing a self satisfied expression. He looked around the room and stopped abruptly as he caught sight of Lindsey. He looked surprised at first, then alarmed. "Hey. You're still up - something happen?"

Lindsey stood up and slowly stepped forward around the couch, unsure of how to go on. He hadn't expected for Eliot to come home now, had hoped to face him after a few hours of sleep at least. Finally he gave him a quick smile as if nothing was awkward. "No, I just wasn't tired." He was quite proud that he could keep his tone of voice casual.

Eliot nodded absently. And there was this look again, just for a second. And suddenly Lindsey knew what it reminded him of. Cornered animal. Ready to strike. What the hell? Lindsey almost expected a snarl, but the expression was already gone, replaced by the usual calmness. He hesitated a moment, but then blurted out "Where have you been?" Come on. Tell me. Give me something.

Eliot glared at him, now clearly annoyed. "None of your business." He abruptly turned away and headed towards the kitchen.

And that was it. Lindsey decided that he had had enough of this. No more carefully laid out plans about trying to get a civilized talk between adults. His patience went out of the window. It was a simple innocent question, you bastard. An' you snap at me like I asked you to hand over your diary. "Hey!"

Eliot stopped and turned around. He only arched an eyebrow, annoyance now mixed with impatience. "What?"

Lindsey narrowed his eyes. Eliot was clearly ready to attack now, at least verbally, but damn if Lindsey would back down now. "The hell is wrong with you?"

Now it was both eyebrows, fists slightly clenched and voice dangerously low. "Excuse me?"

Lindsey tried to control his anger, to keep his voice down not to wake Nathan. He took a slow breath before answering. "Is there a reason why you keep shutting me out?" His questioning glare at Eliot got no visible response, and Lindsey felt his control slowly crumbling. "You've gone through a lot of trouble getting me out of Los Angeles, you probably know my life by now as well as I do and I still don't know shit about you!" He threw his hands in the air in a frustrated gesture. "I don't want your whole damn back story here, but could it hurt you to, y'know, loosen up?" Lindsey caught his breath again and almost expected Eliot to storm off without a response, but the other man didn't move, just gave him a hard look. Then Eliot's lips curled into a sardonic smile.

"You think because I saved your sorry ass that means you mean a damn thing to me? Sorry. Don't work that way."

Lindsey's eyes now glared daggers. The urge to punch Eliot in the face for his scathing tone of voice was nearly overwhelming, and he balled his hands to fists. "And you say there's something wrong with Parker!" A small twitch in Eliot's jaw told Lindsey that he had hit a nerve, and it was a satisfying thought. He decided to put on some more pressure. "I call bullshit, Eliot. I think I got some right to know something, anything about you." He grinned, showing his teeth when he saw Eliot's eyes narrowing. "Or are you just afraid that I could get under your skin?"

Part Two is here.