The Bad Job [Leverage]
Title: The Bad Job
Author:marlowe78
Rating: M
Characters: The Leverage-Crew, OCs
Pairings: Just the canon-ones. Otherwise Gen.
Word count: Not sure yet
Spoilers: All seasons are open game.
Warnings: Bad Language, bad situations, bad men. Mentions of child-pornography and -abuse.
Disclaimer: The Leverage-Team belongs to ... someone else. Not me. I just borrowed them to make them do bad things for a good cause.
Summary: Sometimes, bad guys make the best good guys. And sometimes, the path they tread is dirty and wrong. Sometimes, you have to wonder how far you are prepared to go...
a/n:
Hey there. I'm not straying, be assured. I'm not wandering off the beautiful, exciting path that is Supernatural and/or J2 AU. I'd never!
But I got into watching Leverage, and it's fun. Like the A-Team, only... well, better. It's fun, it's interesting, and though it really doesn't give me the same thrill that Supernatural gives me, it was worth writing a story for.
Was supposed to be a small one... yeah, right. Hee.
And it's not even really good, or creative, or anything. Just... I needed to write it. Because there is a lot of interesting stuff in the character that's Eliot Spencer, and it's left wide open to play with. He's dark. He doesn't seem dark, but that's just the kind of glasses we wear, and I like his darkness. I like the darkness in Dean as well - go figure why I like to play with Eliot.
Also, Nate is a wonderful observer. He's smart, and drunk, and so wonderfully twisted-up inside his head. So here's my story, seen from Nate's eyes. The others are, of course, present. It would only be half the fun if they were left out!
***
“Uh, Nate, man, we have ta pull the plug on this one.“ Hardison rolled away from his computer, hands raised as if he didn't want to touch his keyboard anymore, like it was a hot plate or a bucket filled with poison.
“Why, what's wrong?”
“Because, man, I just found what Malcolm is hiding. And we ain't gonna get him that.”
Nathan strolled over, whiskey-glass in hand, already coiled tight and full of anticipation as he always was when they started a good con. “What is it? Why can't we get it to him?”
They'd been researching, finding more and more dirty money and dirty secrets on Malcolm Miles Winham the Fifth, now simply called Malcolm Winston after he'd sold himself to the Feds and got into witness protection two years ago. From where he continued to embezzle, betray, steal and rob from the people that had nothing, just so he could found his life and his desires, whatever they were.
It had taken them the whole fifteen days until now to come up with even a hint of where his stolen money went, Hardison with his magic fingers and a keyboard, Parker with magic hands and swift wrists and Eliot with ...well, with the patience of a saint, considering he'd had to wade through his garbage every day since day three. The saint-analogy was very loosely used, since he'd bitched and growled and snarled at them every second. Naturally, it had been the cause of a lot of jokes and teases, and even Nate hadn't been able to hide his smile now and then. If he didn't know better, he'd have believed that Parker was just playing the innocent, unaware little girl, covering a truly dry wit with her big eyes and gullible smile. Sometimes, he wasn't too sure about what he knew anymore, so he wouldn't put his bets out one way or the other.
“So what, I went into the trash and through his dirty underwear just so we can drop out now? You crazy?”
“Stop growling at me, man, this ain't our ballpark. This guy's not into diamonds, paintings or gold, man. We can't give him what he wants, and even if we could, we shouldn't.”
“Why, what is it?” Sophie sauntered over, her dark eyes fixed on the screen where a row of files sat, pulled right out from Winston's/Winham's secret flashdrive that had taken Parker a long time to find in his house. She was a little pissed about her lack of speed with this one.
“Yeah, what's it we dug into his dirt for?”
“Man, this guy is bad with a capital “B”. He's...”
“Just show it, Hardison.” Nate was getting impatient. He didn't want this con wasted, not just because he'd already invested so much thought in it, but also because Marilyn Morton and her family had really been robbed of everything they owned, forced to live in a family shelter now that house, money and even the car were gone. He didn't want to disappoint them.
Yeah, ok, and he didn't want to stop this con.
“He's into porn.” Before Eliot could interrupt, breath already deep in his lungs, Hardison held his hand up and continued. “Kiddy-porn, man. And I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole!”
**
The room was so silent that Nate could hear every breath, thought he could hear the thoughts strumming through the minds of his team. He swallowed dry, then changed his mind and wet his throat with whiskey.
“What kind?” Eliot frowned, but he spoke low, not as rough as he'd been talking ever since that whole fucking business with Moreau.
“The bad kind, man. And do not make me look at those pictures, one peek's more'n enough for me, guys. If you wanna check my opinion, be my guest, but do not expect me to stay and watch.”
Nathan straightened before Eliot could bark back. “Nobody's making you watch, Hardison, calm down. We get it. I get it. We... we … there's nothing else we could hook him with?”
“Man, he's got thousand's of very illegal, very probably very dirty pictures of very young boys on his super-secret, very hidden flashdrive. Do the math, man.”
Shit.
**
“Can't we get to him another way? Get the police on his track?”
“The Feds are protecting him. It's like with that scumbag Colpepper, they won't do anything until it's really bad.”
“How much more bad can it get than this?” Sophie stared, unbelieving, at their hacker, who just raised his hands in a helpless gesture.
“Don't ask me, Sophie, I don't know.”
“Nate?”
He nearly didn't flinch from the soft voice next to his ear, nearly didn't give away that he'd been startled by Eliot's presence so close to him. Nearly.
But he'd been watching Parker, prepared but afraid for the moment she decided to ask what they were even talking about. He didn't know if she understood it, and some secret hidden place filled with empathy hoped to God she really didn't know it, or if she did, just the basic concept. Just theoretically.
So far, she was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, watching with birdlike intensity the team's bickering and arguing about something they couldn't, but really, really wanted to do.
“Yeah?”
“Can I talk t' you for a second?”
Nathan nodded and followed, then turned on his heel to get his drink. His gut told him he might need it.
In the kitchen, far enough away from the others, Eliot leaned with his back against the counter, fixing him with his unblinking, assessing gaze. He was still as a statue - no, as a cat just before it pounced. If he'd had a tail, it would be twitching, Nate was sure.
“How far is that plan of yours hatched?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean... is it finished? Or just outlined? If it was something else, money or jewelery, could we pull it off?”
“It's not money, Eliot. We can't pull this off. All of this plan's based on us delivering him what he craves and getting him caught red-handed, out in the open, where no-one could hide his dirty secrets anymore. And... we can't deliver what he's craving, so … no, it's not possible to pull it off.”
“That's not what I asked. I asked if the plan is finished, if it's something we could pull if it weren't for the kids-aspect.”
Oh, he'd understood him perfectly the first time, but Nathan hadn't been prepared to say 'Yes'. Not because he wanted to lie to his ...well, friend, in lack of a better word for what they were. No, he certainly didn't want to lie. But he very much didn't want to pull this off either. It would involve Sophie pretending to... but no, no, he wouldn't put her there.
“We can't Eliot. Sophie can do a lot of things, but I doubt she could pull off pretending to be a kiddy-porn-peddler, or even worse. She's not that person, and even if she could pretend... I …”
“I get it, okay?” Eliot raised his hand, stopping him from becoming more agitated. “I don't mean that. I really don't think she could do it, this guy's a paranoid asshole, there's no way he'll believe her to be such a person. She's good, but … well, I guess that's the problem.” He smirked, completely devoid of humor. “But the plan's solid?” Reluctantly, Nathan nodded. “Can we tweak it? Make Soph the middle-man? A … broker kind of person?”
Nathan turned his back, watched the rest of his crew. They were still arguing back and forth, but they lacked drive, lacked hope. They looked defeated, and they hadn't even started the con yet, hadn't even gotten into trouble. He took a sip, savoring the taste in his mouth, the wooden, smokey flavor on his tongue and in the back of his throat. He could feel Eliot waiting, felt his eyes on him. Patient. Just like that cat.
“Yeah, I think so.”
A soft exhale was the only hint that Eliot even cared about his answer. It sounded dangerously close to relief. “Good. We should do it, then.”
He frowned, still not facing Eliot. Ideas were floating, new ways to sneak into the confidence of their mark, to take him down, hard and dirty and forever. Eliot was right, it was possible to pull it off like that. Just... the price might be too high for him to pay.
“I don't think I can do that,” he finally admitted, turning back to look at the bowstring-tight cookhitterconmanthiefsmugglerkillerwhathefuckever across from him.
Nathan'd never liked showing his cards, not even when he'd been married, not even while his life had been happy. And he hated, more than a bit, to let anyone know about his limitations. He was their leader, the man with the plan, with a plan for everything. They counted on him doing that, being that, and if it cost him to stay a bit detached from three of his team, and even from Sophie though she was already much too deep inside his skin, well, so be it. He'd gladly pay that price if it meant being the man with the plan.
But this time, and especially with this man, he would have to show his cards. It wouldn't matter much, he thought, because if there was one person who could look at him and see every secret inside, it was Eliot. Not because he was closest to him, but Spencer was too honest about himself to be fooled by Nathan's tricks to deflect from what was hidden inside.
He'd known Eliot had him figured out the first time they'd played pool. And it hadn't surprised him that Eliot had known about him and Sophie before Shark-Boy had spilled their secret. You didn't get to live as long as Spencer in his line of work if you could walk into a room with a bra hanging from the stairs and not notice that. Or smell sex in a hotel-room.
He'd never said anything, though, just waited until it was out in the open to ask him if trust was a one way street in their team, if it was okay for everyone to know Hardison and Parker getting together but not for Nate and Sophie. ”We're not little kids, man. And you're not our parents who try to hide that mommy and daddy have sex with each other. Not even Parker believes kids come from the stork”
Well... put like that...
So he just said what was the truth, just this once, straight-out.
“Eliot, I can't go out and pretend to sell child-pornography, or worse, to that man. I... I can't.”
A fleeting hint of compassion flitted across Eliot's features, there and gone in not even a second. He appreciated it nonetheless, even though he'd never doubted that Eliot cared. Funny, how that went.
**
Next
Author:marlowe78
Rating: M
Characters: The Leverage-Crew, OCs
Pairings: Just the canon-ones. Otherwise Gen.
Word count: Not sure yet
Spoilers: All seasons are open game.
Warnings: Bad Language, bad situations, bad men. Mentions of child-pornography and -abuse.
Disclaimer: The Leverage-Team belongs to ... someone else. Not me. I just borrowed them to make them do bad things for a good cause.
Summary: Sometimes, bad guys make the best good guys. And sometimes, the path they tread is dirty and wrong. Sometimes, you have to wonder how far you are prepared to go...
a/n:
Hey there. I'm not straying, be assured. I'm not wandering off the beautiful, exciting path that is Supernatural and/or J2 AU. I'd never!
But I got into watching Leverage, and it's fun. Like the A-Team, only... well, better. It's fun, it's interesting, and though it really doesn't give me the same thrill that Supernatural gives me, it was worth writing a story for.
Was supposed to be a small one... yeah, right. Hee.
And it's not even really good, or creative, or anything. Just... I needed to write it. Because there is a lot of interesting stuff in the character that's Eliot Spencer, and it's left wide open to play with. He's dark. He doesn't seem dark, but that's just the kind of glasses we wear, and I like his darkness. I like the darkness in Dean as well - go figure why I like to play with Eliot.
Also, Nate is a wonderful observer. He's smart, and drunk, and so wonderfully twisted-up inside his head. So here's my story, seen from Nate's eyes. The others are, of course, present. It would only be half the fun if they were left out!
***
“Uh, Nate, man, we have ta pull the plug on this one.“ Hardison rolled away from his computer, hands raised as if he didn't want to touch his keyboard anymore, like it was a hot plate or a bucket filled with poison.
“Why, what's wrong?”
“Because, man, I just found what Malcolm is hiding. And we ain't gonna get him that.”
Nathan strolled over, whiskey-glass in hand, already coiled tight and full of anticipation as he always was when they started a good con. “What is it? Why can't we get it to him?”
They'd been researching, finding more and more dirty money and dirty secrets on Malcolm Miles Winham the Fifth, now simply called Malcolm Winston after he'd sold himself to the Feds and got into witness protection two years ago. From where he continued to embezzle, betray, steal and rob from the people that had nothing, just so he could found his life and his desires, whatever they were.
It had taken them the whole fifteen days until now to come up with even a hint of where his stolen money went, Hardison with his magic fingers and a keyboard, Parker with magic hands and swift wrists and Eliot with ...well, with the patience of a saint, considering he'd had to wade through his garbage every day since day three. The saint-analogy was very loosely used, since he'd bitched and growled and snarled at them every second. Naturally, it had been the cause of a lot of jokes and teases, and even Nate hadn't been able to hide his smile now and then. If he didn't know better, he'd have believed that Parker was just playing the innocent, unaware little girl, covering a truly dry wit with her big eyes and gullible smile. Sometimes, he wasn't too sure about what he knew anymore, so he wouldn't put his bets out one way or the other.
“So what, I went into the trash and through his dirty underwear just so we can drop out now? You crazy?”
“Stop growling at me, man, this ain't our ballpark. This guy's not into diamonds, paintings or gold, man. We can't give him what he wants, and even if we could, we shouldn't.”
“Why, what is it?” Sophie sauntered over, her dark eyes fixed on the screen where a row of files sat, pulled right out from Winston's/Winham's secret flashdrive that had taken Parker a long time to find in his house. She was a little pissed about her lack of speed with this one.
“Yeah, what's it we dug into his dirt for?”
“Man, this guy is bad with a capital “B”. He's...”
“Just show it, Hardison.” Nate was getting impatient. He didn't want this con wasted, not just because he'd already invested so much thought in it, but also because Marilyn Morton and her family had really been robbed of everything they owned, forced to live in a family shelter now that house, money and even the car were gone. He didn't want to disappoint them.
Yeah, ok, and he didn't want to stop this con.
“He's into porn.” Before Eliot could interrupt, breath already deep in his lungs, Hardison held his hand up and continued. “Kiddy-porn, man. And I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole!”
**
The room was so silent that Nate could hear every breath, thought he could hear the thoughts strumming through the minds of his team. He swallowed dry, then changed his mind and wet his throat with whiskey.
“What kind?” Eliot frowned, but he spoke low, not as rough as he'd been talking ever since that whole fucking business with Moreau.
“The bad kind, man. And do not make me look at those pictures, one peek's more'n enough for me, guys. If you wanna check my opinion, be my guest, but do not expect me to stay and watch.”
Nathan straightened before Eliot could bark back. “Nobody's making you watch, Hardison, calm down. We get it. I get it. We... we … there's nothing else we could hook him with?”
“Man, he's got thousand's of very illegal, very probably very dirty pictures of very young boys on his super-secret, very hidden flashdrive. Do the math, man.”
Shit.
**
“Can't we get to him another way? Get the police on his track?”
“The Feds are protecting him. It's like with that scumbag Colpepper, they won't do anything until it's really bad.”
“How much more bad can it get than this?” Sophie stared, unbelieving, at their hacker, who just raised his hands in a helpless gesture.
“Don't ask me, Sophie, I don't know.”
“Nate?”
He nearly didn't flinch from the soft voice next to his ear, nearly didn't give away that he'd been startled by Eliot's presence so close to him. Nearly.
But he'd been watching Parker, prepared but afraid for the moment she decided to ask what they were even talking about. He didn't know if she understood it, and some secret hidden place filled with empathy hoped to God she really didn't know it, or if she did, just the basic concept. Just theoretically.
So far, she was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, watching with birdlike intensity the team's bickering and arguing about something they couldn't, but really, really wanted to do.
“Yeah?”
“Can I talk t' you for a second?”
Nathan nodded and followed, then turned on his heel to get his drink. His gut told him he might need it.
In the kitchen, far enough away from the others, Eliot leaned with his back against the counter, fixing him with his unblinking, assessing gaze. He was still as a statue - no, as a cat just before it pounced. If he'd had a tail, it would be twitching, Nate was sure.
“How far is that plan of yours hatched?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean... is it finished? Or just outlined? If it was something else, money or jewelery, could we pull it off?”
“It's not money, Eliot. We can't pull this off. All of this plan's based on us delivering him what he craves and getting him caught red-handed, out in the open, where no-one could hide his dirty secrets anymore. And... we can't deliver what he's craving, so … no, it's not possible to pull it off.”
“That's not what I asked. I asked if the plan is finished, if it's something we could pull if it weren't for the kids-aspect.”
Oh, he'd understood him perfectly the first time, but Nathan hadn't been prepared to say 'Yes'. Not because he wanted to lie to his ...well, friend, in lack of a better word for what they were. No, he certainly didn't want to lie. But he very much didn't want to pull this off either. It would involve Sophie pretending to... but no, no, he wouldn't put her there.
“We can't Eliot. Sophie can do a lot of things, but I doubt she could pull off pretending to be a kiddy-porn-peddler, or even worse. She's not that person, and even if she could pretend... I …”
“I get it, okay?” Eliot raised his hand, stopping him from becoming more agitated. “I don't mean that. I really don't think she could do it, this guy's a paranoid asshole, there's no way he'll believe her to be such a person. She's good, but … well, I guess that's the problem.” He smirked, completely devoid of humor. “But the plan's solid?” Reluctantly, Nathan nodded. “Can we tweak it? Make Soph the middle-man? A … broker kind of person?”
Nathan turned his back, watched the rest of his crew. They were still arguing back and forth, but they lacked drive, lacked hope. They looked defeated, and they hadn't even started the con yet, hadn't even gotten into trouble. He took a sip, savoring the taste in his mouth, the wooden, smokey flavor on his tongue and in the back of his throat. He could feel Eliot waiting, felt his eyes on him. Patient. Just like that cat.
“Yeah, I think so.”
A soft exhale was the only hint that Eliot even cared about his answer. It sounded dangerously close to relief. “Good. We should do it, then.”
He frowned, still not facing Eliot. Ideas were floating, new ways to sneak into the confidence of their mark, to take him down, hard and dirty and forever. Eliot was right, it was possible to pull it off like that. Just... the price might be too high for him to pay.
“I don't think I can do that,” he finally admitted, turning back to look at the bowstring-tight cookhitterconmanthiefsmugglerkillerwhathefuckever across from him.
Nathan'd never liked showing his cards, not even when he'd been married, not even while his life had been happy. And he hated, more than a bit, to let anyone know about his limitations. He was their leader, the man with the plan, with a plan for everything. They counted on him doing that, being that, and if it cost him to stay a bit detached from three of his team, and even from Sophie though she was already much too deep inside his skin, well, so be it. He'd gladly pay that price if it meant being the man with the plan.
But this time, and especially with this man, he would have to show his cards. It wouldn't matter much, he thought, because if there was one person who could look at him and see every secret inside, it was Eliot. Not because he was closest to him, but Spencer was too honest about himself to be fooled by Nathan's tricks to deflect from what was hidden inside.
He'd known Eliot had him figured out the first time they'd played pool. And it hadn't surprised him that Eliot had known about him and Sophie before Shark-Boy had spilled their secret. You didn't get to live as long as Spencer in his line of work if you could walk into a room with a bra hanging from the stairs and not notice that. Or smell sex in a hotel-room.
He'd never said anything, though, just waited until it was out in the open to ask him if trust was a one way street in their team, if it was okay for everyone to know Hardison and Parker getting together but not for Nate and Sophie. ”We're not little kids, man. And you're not our parents who try to hide that mommy and daddy have sex with each other. Not even Parker believes kids come from the stork”
Well... put like that...
So he just said what was the truth, just this once, straight-out.
“Eliot, I can't go out and pretend to sell child-pornography, or worse, to that man. I... I can't.”
A fleeting hint of compassion flitted across Eliot's features, there and gone in not even a second. He appreciated it nonetheless, even though he'd never doubted that Eliot cared. Funny, how that went.
**
Next