Leverage fic: What Will Happen, When
Title: What Will Happen, When
Fandom(s): Leverage
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,243
Summary: Well, technically you chased us...
Author’s Notes: Vague spoilers for “The Two Live Crew Job” and “The Cross My Heart Job.”
What Will Happen, When
Cluj, Romania - February 2000
“Don’t worry, you’ll get back the Manet.”
Maggie’s words do little to comfort him. “It’s been two months. And it’s Parker,” Nate complains, allowing himself a single moment of weakness. “She’s like finding a needle in a haystack.”
Maggie sighs sympathetically. She knows all too well the hazards of this business. “You’ve caught her before, you can do it again.”
“I interrupted Parker,” Nate clarifies, thinking back three years ago when he narrowly retrieved an ancient Etruscan idol from her clutches but hadn’t caught the thief herself. She might as well be a ghost. “Sorry to call so late.”
“Don’t apologize,” says Maggie. “And don’t give up.”
-
“Not so fast,” says the dark figure in front of her. He’s not tall, but what he lacks in height he makes up in muscle, she can see that even in the twilight. “That painting’s mine.”
“Oh?” Parker laughs, finishing her ministrations of cutting the canvas off and tossing the frame aside. “Well, I stole it, that makes it mine.”
The figure steps closer, into the dim lighting of the street, and Parker snorts-she should have known.
“Your work is impressive,” says Eliot Spencer, “but this one belongs to me.”
“Come and get it, then.” Without warning, Parker breaks into a sprint, silent across the cobblestones, adrenaline rising. She cackles into the night, throughly amused by the colorful curses that follow her.
Warsaw, Poland - May 2000
He actually sets his eyes on her this time, as she flounces away from the National Museum. One minute she’s there, spoils tucked away in her satchel, the next she vanishes into nothingness.
-
“Pretty bold of you, stealing from the capital city,” Eliot observes as he leans against the hatch atop the museum’s roof.
Parker doesn’t register any surprise at his presence. “I was bored,” she replies. “What’s your excuse?”
“Got a deadline to keep.”
Before she can predict his intentions, he snatches the golden elephant from her grasp and jumps from the roof, commandeering the rope she’d planned on using for her own extraction. She watches as he escapes with her treasure and grumbles. She’d been really set on that elephant, too.
Damascus, Syria - October 2002
He’s never been to Syria before, but rumor has it she’s here, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get her this time. He’s Nate Ford-he never loses a mark.
(Except Sophie, but she’s an outlier and therefore presents no smear on his record. Really.)
-
She’d planned on this heist being easy, just like most of her others, but it proves to be the exact opposite. Turns out, the Syrian official whose sword she nicked wasn’t quite as asleep as she thought, and she finds herself a minute later with a knife square in her thigh and the man and two of his closest friends bearing down upon her.
She begins to shut her eyes, readying for the kill, when the men yell in surprise. Her eyes flash open and she watches as-of course-Eliot attacks them-and is that a Nerf sword?-and, it appears, getting the better of them.
At least until one of the men wises up and shoots him in the shoulder. He doesn’t go down, but his stumble is enough to break his stride. So Parker does the only thing she can think of. “Eliot!” she exclaims, and as if expecting it, he reaches his hand out and catches the sword she throws to him.
It’s quick work from there, the Damascus steel slicing through its adversaries with ease, and within moments, Eliot’s wiping the blade clean of blood on one of the Syrians’ shirts. He looks in the distance, clearly vacillating on his next move, and then kneels beside Parker, yanking out the knife and bandaging up her wound. He helps her stand, and hesitates.
“You saved me,” says Parker. “Why?”
Eliot forces the sword into her hands. “Just take it.”
Dyrehaven, Denmark - July 2006
He’s not sure what happens at the Hermitage Palace, only that he makes it there, spies her, then blacks out. When he wakes, he’s got a bump on the back of his head, and no statuette to speak of.
-
“Here,” says Parker, tossing Eliot what he came for. She hugs her statue to her chest. “And this is for me.”
Eliot glances down at Nate’s prone body. “I think that’s record time.”
Ērgļi, Latvia - August 2006
Given the sudden onslaught of IYS items stolen, Blackpoole assigns him specifically, solely, to Parker’s thefts. He agrees-after all, he knows the thief best, and will find her.
-
“Heard you got out,” Parker comments as she and Eliot sit beside the Ērgļu ūdenskrātuve, admiring their conquests.
“From certain people,” Eliot replies, handing her back the lavish diadem she’d filched. “I still contract out for others.”
Parker gets the hint to leave it alone. “Did you see those guards’ faces when they saw you? Wish I’d gotten a picture.”
“Saw theirs when they saw you,” he replies. “You should’ve just asked, they’d have handed over that thing to you on a silver platter with the outfit you’re wearing.”
Parker looks down at her usual black catsuit specially made for her camouflaged movements. She’d designed it herself. “I always wear this.”
Eliot glances at her for just a second too long. “I know.”
Port-Bouët, Côte d’Ivoire - September 2006
He takes almost an entire roll of photos for Maggie as he stands on the coast, looking out at the Gulf of Guinea and thinking only of her and Sam. He’s getting tired of chasing Parker, especially since her thefts have seemed to increase in scale and obscurity.
-
“You don’t speak French,” Parker laughs, sound getting lost in the sand that surrounds them. “How’s that?”
“It’s not very useful where I usually go.” Eliot’s tone is light, but Parker can see underneath it. “You been in the ocean before?”
Parker shakes her head. “There’s nothing down there that can’t be just as easily obtained from a laser-guarded vault.”
Eliot tosses his jacket on the beach, blueprints to the Musée des civilisations tucked safely inside. With little effort whatsoever, he grabs Parker by the waist and tosses her into the water. “Now you have.”
Coughing the water from her lungs, Parker glares at him, and in the next moment drags him under. “Serves you right.”
When she kisses him, he tastes of salt and whiskey.
Sendai, Japan - October 2006
Nate doesn’t make it to Japan. Nate makes it to the pediatric hospital and falls off the grid.
-
“Did you hear what happened to Nathan Ford?” Parker asks, looking at her new jade necklace approvingly.
Eliot clasps the necklace and drapes her hair back over her shoulders. “Yeah. Bad story, too.”
“Wonder if we’ll ever see him again.”
They’ve heard stories of James Sterling before, of how he’s less…cordial than Nate, and decide to split up. If Eliot smiles when he sees CNN’s report of the Met robbery or Parker cackles when she learns of artifacts from the King’s Chamber gone missing, they do it in silence.
Boston, Massachusetts - December 2009
“Well, technically you chased us,” says Sophie, purely to get on his nerves. She succeeds, masterfully.
-
Everyone but she, however, misses the glance exchanged between Eliot and Parker, and after they finally get the Mercers back their painting, Sophie corners the both of them. “Something tells me I wasn’t the only one who had a partner before Nate.”
Parker grins.
Fandom(s): Leverage
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,243
Summary: Well, technically you chased us...
Author’s Notes: Vague spoilers for “The Two Live Crew Job” and “The Cross My Heart Job.”
What Will Happen, When
Cluj, Romania - February 2000
“Don’t worry, you’ll get back the Manet.”
Maggie’s words do little to comfort him. “It’s been two months. And it’s Parker,” Nate complains, allowing himself a single moment of weakness. “She’s like finding a needle in a haystack.”
Maggie sighs sympathetically. She knows all too well the hazards of this business. “You’ve caught her before, you can do it again.”
“I interrupted Parker,” Nate clarifies, thinking back three years ago when he narrowly retrieved an ancient Etruscan idol from her clutches but hadn’t caught the thief herself. She might as well be a ghost. “Sorry to call so late.”
“Don’t apologize,” says Maggie. “And don’t give up.”
-
“Not so fast,” says the dark figure in front of her. He’s not tall, but what he lacks in height he makes up in muscle, she can see that even in the twilight. “That painting’s mine.”
“Oh?” Parker laughs, finishing her ministrations of cutting the canvas off and tossing the frame aside. “Well, I stole it, that makes it mine.”
The figure steps closer, into the dim lighting of the street, and Parker snorts-she should have known.
“Your work is impressive,” says Eliot Spencer, “but this one belongs to me.”
“Come and get it, then.” Without warning, Parker breaks into a sprint, silent across the cobblestones, adrenaline rising. She cackles into the night, throughly amused by the colorful curses that follow her.
Warsaw, Poland - May 2000
He actually sets his eyes on her this time, as she flounces away from the National Museum. One minute she’s there, spoils tucked away in her satchel, the next she vanishes into nothingness.
-
“Pretty bold of you, stealing from the capital city,” Eliot observes as he leans against the hatch atop the museum’s roof.
Parker doesn’t register any surprise at his presence. “I was bored,” she replies. “What’s your excuse?”
“Got a deadline to keep.”
Before she can predict his intentions, he snatches the golden elephant from her grasp and jumps from the roof, commandeering the rope she’d planned on using for her own extraction. She watches as he escapes with her treasure and grumbles. She’d been really set on that elephant, too.
Damascus, Syria - October 2002
He’s never been to Syria before, but rumor has it she’s here, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get her this time. He’s Nate Ford-he never loses a mark.
(Except Sophie, but she’s an outlier and therefore presents no smear on his record. Really.)
-
She’d planned on this heist being easy, just like most of her others, but it proves to be the exact opposite. Turns out, the Syrian official whose sword she nicked wasn’t quite as asleep as she thought, and she finds herself a minute later with a knife square in her thigh and the man and two of his closest friends bearing down upon her.
She begins to shut her eyes, readying for the kill, when the men yell in surprise. Her eyes flash open and she watches as-of course-Eliot attacks them-and is that a Nerf sword?-and, it appears, getting the better of them.
At least until one of the men wises up and shoots him in the shoulder. He doesn’t go down, but his stumble is enough to break his stride. So Parker does the only thing she can think of. “Eliot!” she exclaims, and as if expecting it, he reaches his hand out and catches the sword she throws to him.
It’s quick work from there, the Damascus steel slicing through its adversaries with ease, and within moments, Eliot’s wiping the blade clean of blood on one of the Syrians’ shirts. He looks in the distance, clearly vacillating on his next move, and then kneels beside Parker, yanking out the knife and bandaging up her wound. He helps her stand, and hesitates.
“You saved me,” says Parker. “Why?”
Eliot forces the sword into her hands. “Just take it.”
Dyrehaven, Denmark - July 2006
He’s not sure what happens at the Hermitage Palace, only that he makes it there, spies her, then blacks out. When he wakes, he’s got a bump on the back of his head, and no statuette to speak of.
-
“Here,” says Parker, tossing Eliot what he came for. She hugs her statue to her chest. “And this is for me.”
Eliot glances down at Nate’s prone body. “I think that’s record time.”
Ērgļi, Latvia - August 2006
Given the sudden onslaught of IYS items stolen, Blackpoole assigns him specifically, solely, to Parker’s thefts. He agrees-after all, he knows the thief best, and will find her.
-
“Heard you got out,” Parker comments as she and Eliot sit beside the Ērgļu ūdenskrātuve, admiring their conquests.
“From certain people,” Eliot replies, handing her back the lavish diadem she’d filched. “I still contract out for others.”
Parker gets the hint to leave it alone. “Did you see those guards’ faces when they saw you? Wish I’d gotten a picture.”
“Saw theirs when they saw you,” he replies. “You should’ve just asked, they’d have handed over that thing to you on a silver platter with the outfit you’re wearing.”
Parker looks down at her usual black catsuit specially made for her camouflaged movements. She’d designed it herself. “I always wear this.”
Eliot glances at her for just a second too long. “I know.”
Port-Bouët, Côte d’Ivoire - September 2006
He takes almost an entire roll of photos for Maggie as he stands on the coast, looking out at the Gulf of Guinea and thinking only of her and Sam. He’s getting tired of chasing Parker, especially since her thefts have seemed to increase in scale and obscurity.
-
“You don’t speak French,” Parker laughs, sound getting lost in the sand that surrounds them. “How’s that?”
“It’s not very useful where I usually go.” Eliot’s tone is light, but Parker can see underneath it. “You been in the ocean before?”
Parker shakes her head. “There’s nothing down there that can’t be just as easily obtained from a laser-guarded vault.”
Eliot tosses his jacket on the beach, blueprints to the Musée des civilisations tucked safely inside. With little effort whatsoever, he grabs Parker by the waist and tosses her into the water. “Now you have.”
Coughing the water from her lungs, Parker glares at him, and in the next moment drags him under. “Serves you right.”
When she kisses him, he tastes of salt and whiskey.
Sendai, Japan - October 2006
Nate doesn’t make it to Japan. Nate makes it to the pediatric hospital and falls off the grid.
-
“Did you hear what happened to Nathan Ford?” Parker asks, looking at her new jade necklace approvingly.
Eliot clasps the necklace and drapes her hair back over her shoulders. “Yeah. Bad story, too.”
“Wonder if we’ll ever see him again.”
They’ve heard stories of James Sterling before, of how he’s less…cordial than Nate, and decide to split up. If Eliot smiles when he sees CNN’s report of the Met robbery or Parker cackles when she learns of artifacts from the King’s Chamber gone missing, they do it in silence.
Boston, Massachusetts - December 2009
“Well, technically you chased us,” says Sophie, purely to get on his nerves. She succeeds, masterfully.
-
Everyone but she, however, misses the glance exchanged between Eliot and Parker, and after they finally get the Mercers back their painting, Sophie corners the both of them. “Something tells me I wasn’t the only one who had a partner before Nate.”
Parker grins.