FIC: Why Do I Get You Wrong? 3A/3
Oct. 5th, 2009 06:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
paulacasTitle: Why Do I Get You Wrong?
Author: YanzaDracan
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Eliot/Author’s Choice
Rating: FRM
Summary: Prompt – First fight – Bits and pieces from Season 2 episodes. Finally the muses stopped arguing over how this was going to end. Then it wouldn't cut down to size--so...
Chapter 3A
Sophie didn’t realize how much she’d missed the others until she looked up and saw Parker on the mezzanine. At Parker’s gasp she followed her line of sight and there was Eliot and Hardison.
By the time they reached Hardison’s house, the silence in the car is almost a physical thing. It was obvious they still trusted each other, but they didn’t trust her.
Sighing inwardly, she girded her feelings against the coming onslaught from the team’s youngest members.
The only thing that kept her from giving into tears was studying the body language of the other four.
Eliot stood between Nate and Sophie forming a triangle with Parker and Hardison behind him. Nate, as always, stood aloof from the group as Sophie was hoisted with her own petard.
There was a hunger in Eliot’s eyes as he watched Nate, which disappeared the second he realized Sophie was watching him.
They flowed back together like they’d never been apart, but when it came to Eliot and Nate they seemed to be blessed with bad timing. Every time the hitter got a few moments alone with the mastermind, they were interrupted. Eliot got tired of Nate not making an effort, so faded into the background.
No longer able to avoid the inevitable, Sophie sought out the retrievalist on the pretense of ‘seeing if they were okay’.
His burst of temper frightened her, but his words cut her to the quick.
“Why am I last?”
She heard so much in those four small words. They told her more about Eliot Spencer than all their time working together.
He smoothly shut off the conversation by twisting her words until it appeared she’d apologized. With his good ole boy ‘there ya go’ and a boyish grin, it seemed all was well with the Leverage associates.
Using the work in the restoration room at the museum as an excuse, Eliot disappeared until he returned to the mansion to shower and dress for the gallery opening.
Sophie almost smiled as she watched Nate try and corner Eliot. When he got the hitter pinned down she thought they’d pick up where they’d left off three months ago.
Nate talked as Eliot leaned against the fireplace. Suddenly he straightened so fast, Sophie thought she could hear the bones in his spine snap. He said a few words to Nate before stalking out the door.
Nate stared after the retrieval specialist slack-jawed. Sophie moved before she realized, not used to seeing Nate caught flat-footed.
“Nate?” Her voice was tentative as she touched his arm.
Her touch seemed to snap him back.
“Did you need something, Sophie?” He was still watching the door.
“Everything okay?” She fished.
“Uh…what…oh yeah…fine.” He stuttered. “Just a little misunderstanding.”
“Oh Nate.” She sighed softly.
“I know.” His expression was bleak as he moved toward the staircase.
They stood facing each other for possibly the last time. Wanting the drama over, Eliot spoke first.
“We had a good run.”
It wasn’t until they turned away that Sophie let go the tears she’d been holding at bay. The finality in Eliot’s voice, uncertainty in Parker’s, hope in Hardison’s, resignation in Nate’s made her chest tight with her own repressed emotions.
She did this. Her lust for the Davids broke them as surely as Eliot and Hardison’s bomb had shattered their home.
The roar of the motorcycle broke their immobility. Typical of the hitter—he was gone before anyone realized he moved, exhaust fumes the only proof that he’d been in the hangar.
The dark haired actress sat at her dressing room vanity staring at a slip of paper. Nothing about the paper gave any indication of how important it was to Sophie. She’d been searching her purse for tissues when she found the blue bandana with the note folded inside.
Fresh tears soon followed the ones she’d just gotten stopped. Without saying a word, Eliot had shown she was forgiven with an email address tucked inside a blue bandana.
Six Months Later
Sophie added the small slip of paper to the other three numbers in front of her. A silent plea went out to St. Nicholas that her plan worked.
Opening night and Sophie’s a bundle of nerves. She keeps slipping out to the lobby to see if any of the team have picked up their tickets.
Finally there’s the sound she’s been hoping to hear.
“Parker—one……No first name just one name.”
Hardison’s surprised squawk. “Parker?”
She listened a little longer until she finally heard the southern gravel growl of Eliot flirting with a couple of pretty patrons.
When she saw them all standing in a circle she couldn’t contain her excitement any longer and rushed through the lobby.
“I’m so glad you all made it.”
“I didn’t know you could sing.” Alec looked confused.
“Not as well as I act.” She called over her shoulder as she ran back to her dressing room.
She failed to see her team mates cringe at that statement.
Sophie Devereaux was not a woman who was easily confused, but what she had observed since the team reunited had her baffled.
Nate still held himself aloof, but there was a bit of desperation to him. His eyes constantly sought out Eliot, and sometimes her. It was as though he was waiting for them both to disappear.
Eliot never said why he was in Pakistan, but Nate’s expression showed a touch of fear, and Hardison’s comment made her skin crawl.
When in public Parker and Eliot both acted more ‘normal’ and somewhat sociable.
When Parker caught Sophie staring her smile became sly.
“Eliot’s been teaching me things.” She said cryptically.
Sophie rolled her eyes. God help them all.
Hardison seemed the least changed, but even he was quieter, not as frenetic.
They once again slipped together almost seamlessly. Eliot and Parker with their naughty twins act that saw them playing one-ups-man. Parker said it was because Eliot was good with locks, which caused Hardison and Nate to frown at the pair until Sophie told them Parker was learning from Eliot, which made Nate go pale and Hardison choke on his orange soda.
She thought Nate was going to have another go with Eliot until he asked her to dinner, and she had to explain about her boyfriend…making things somewhat awkward.
The job in Nebraska reminded Sophie of Eliot’s skill at the con. She was amazed at how beautifully he hooked Rucker with his sad eyes, and quiet vulnerability.
When the others left the gym, Eliot gently teased Sophie about her concern while assuring her he had control over what was important to him.
After the fight, she looked into flat blue eyes as he held the ice pack against his shoulder, and watched as his iron will stuffed his beast back into its cage.
The next day it was as though he’d never let it out.
Nate tried to fuss over the battered hitter, but Eliot quietly rebuffed his efforts, disappearing after they’d turned the keys to the gym over to the Howorths.
On the plane back to Boston, Sophie had something of a revelation. She realized she was actually happy. New city, new boyfriend and her adopted family back together.
Wanting everyone to be happy, she kept nudging Parker and Hardison—Nate and Eliot was something she didn’t even attempt. That was too volatile a situation for even her romantic soul.
When not on a job, Nate turned his attention to luring Eliot back to him. If that didn’t work, maybe Sophie would get tired of living a lie with her new boyfriend.
Eliot smiled, slapped him on the back like they were close friends, but the cool expression in those all seeing eyes let Nate know Eliot hadn’t forgotten how callously he’d treated the retrievalist during the second Blackpoole job.
The memory swallowed Nate as he stared into the steam rising from his coffee. Eliot standing by the mansion’s fireplace, sunlight from the window sparking red and gold in the long dark hair.
Nate had pressed against his back and with a breathless voice, roaming hands, and teeth on his neck, expressed his desire for the younger man.
Eliot turned and caught Nate’s hands.
“Is this just a quick fuck so you can scratch an itch?”
Nate stared at the earnest expression on Eliot’s face as his brain came crashing down from its lust filled high.
Between Maggie, Blackpoole, Sterling, and memories of Sam, Nate’s emotions were already in turmoil. Eliot not giving Nate what he wanted made his temper flash and his words deadly barbs.
“Scratching an itch is one your specialties so what difference does it make?” He snapped.
Eliot dropped his hands as though scalded and backed up a step. The pain filled eyes blanked so fast, Nate thought he imagined it until Eliot spoke.
“That what you really think, Nate? Think I’m some kinda slut, you can come and take when you please?”
His deepened drawl was the only indication of the hitter’s distress.
“Eliot…I…no…just…” Nate looked down at the hardwood floor.
When he looked up, no expression showed on the rugged face as he threw down his papers and stalked from the room.
Nate was pulled out of the memory by Sophie’s nagging voice.
“You can’t control everything, Nate. If you try you’re setting yourself up for a terrible fall.”
Nate rolled his eyes at the grifter and went back to his files.
Eliot walked over and set his bowl on the counter by Sophie’s elbow.
“You need to talk to him.” Sophie urged.
“He’s fine. He’s not drinkin’. You worry too much.” Eliot kept his voice steady.
“He’s setting himself up. When something happens he can’t control, it’ll break him.” Worried brown eyes caught his.
“Everyone breaks, Sophie.” Eliot’s voice was flat. “It’s how you handle it that matters.”
“That’s the part that scares me. I don’t think he will handle it. It could destroy him.”
Sophie turned to continue the conversation, but Eliot was gone. *Damn, he was worse than Parker.*
Seeing Eliot with the female hitter made Nate’s blood boil. Eliot was his…they were all his. How dare these other thieves try to compare themselves to HIS team. His expression was smug…superior as Marcus declared, ‘You really do have the nastiest team this side of the Atlantic’. Now all he had to do was separate Eliot from Ms. Diane, and things would be back to normal.
He was sure he had it all under control until his grifter had them carve ‘Sophie Devereaux’ on the tombstone, killing a person who’d been a big part of his life for 10 years. Giving in to what they’d danced around all those years, he lowered his head to capture her lips as they stood over the empty grave.
Sophie placed her fingers over his lips.
“You don’t really know me.” Her fingers stopped his protest. “You know I’ve never heard you say my real name.”
She left him standing by the empty grave grieving for what died before it reached full bloom, and watching the first thread of his control unravel.
Sophie Devereaux was not a woman who was easily confused, but what she had observed since the team reunited had her baffled.
Nate still held himself aloof, but there was a bit of desperation to him. His eyes constantly sought out Eliot, and sometimes her. It was as though he was waiting for them both to disappear.
Eliot never said why he was in Pakistan, but Nate’s expression showed a touch of fear, and Hardison’s comment made her skin crawl.
When in public Parker and Eliot both acted more ‘normal’ and somewhat sociable.
When Parker caught Sophie staring her smile became sly.
“Eliot’s been teaching me things.” She said cryptically.
Sophie rolled her eyes. God help them all.
Hardison seemed the least changed, but even he was quieter, not as frenetic.
They once again slipped together almost seamlessly. Eliot and Parker with their naughty twins act that saw them playing one-ups-man. Parker said it was because Eliot was good with locks, which caused Hardison and Nate to frown at the pair until Sophie told them Parker was learning from Eliot, which made Nate go pale and Hardison choke on his orange soda.
She thought Nate was going to have another go with Eliot until he asked her to dinner, and she had to explain about her boyfriend…making things somewhat awkward.
The job in Nebraska reminded Sophie of Eliot’s skill at the con. She was amazed at how beautifully he hooked Rucker with his sad eyes, and quiet vulnerability.
When the others left the gym, Eliot gently teased Sophie about her concern while assuring her he had control over what was important to him.
After the fight, she looked into flat blue eyes as he held the ice pack against his shoulder, and watched as his iron will stuffed his beast back into its cage.
The next day it was as though he’d never let it out.
Nate tried to fuss over the battered hitter, but Eliot quietly rebuffed his efforts, disappearing after they’d turned the keys to the gym over to the Howorths.
On the plane back to Boston, Sophie had something of a revelation. She realized she was actually happy. New city, new boyfriend and her adopted family back together.
Wanting everyone to be happy, she kept nudging Parker and Hardison—Nate and Eliot was something she didn’t even attempt. That was too volatile a situation for even her romantic soul.
When not on a job, Nate turned his attention to luring Eliot back to him. If that didn’t work, maybe Sophie would get tired of living a lie with her new boyfriend.
Eliot smiled, slapped him on the back like they were close friends, but the cool expression in those all seeing eyes let Nate know Eliot hadn’t forgotten how callously he’d treated the retrievalist during the second Blackpoole job.
The memory swallowed Nate as he stared into the steam rising from his coffee. Eliot standing by the mansion’s fireplace, sunlight from the window sparking red and gold in the long dark hair.
Nate had pressed against his back and with a breathless voice, roaming hands, and teeth on his neck, expressed his desire for the younger man.
Eliot turned and caught Nate’s hands.
“Is this just a quick fuck so you can scratch an itch?”
Nate stared at the earnest expression on Eliot’s face as his brain came crashing down from its lust filled high.
Between Maggie, Blackpoole, Sterling, and memories of Sam, Nate’s emotions were already in turmoil. Eliot not giving Nate what he wanted made his temper flash and his words deadly barbs.
“Scratching an itch is one your specialties so what difference does it make?” He snapped.
Eliot dropped his hands as though scalded and backed up a step. The pain filled eyes blanked so fast, Nate thought he imagined it until Eliot spoke.
“That what you really think, Nate? Think I’m some kinda slut, you can come and take when you please?”
His deepened drawl was the only indication of the hitter’s distress.
“Eliot…I…no…just…” Nate looked down at the hardwood floor.
When he looked up, no expression showed on the rugged face as he threw down his papers and stalked from the room.
cont'd in Part 3B
