Fic: Company (Leverage, Eliot/Parker, PG)
Jan. 5th, 2011 11:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sherydenTitle: Company
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Eliot/Parker
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1278
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, Eliot would have a mandatory shirtless scene at least once a season.
Summary: After jobs, Eliot and Parker like to keep each other company.
Author’s Notes: This was written forbetty_mraz for the ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
leverageland Secret Santa. Now that our identities have been revealed, I figured I’d post it here.
It was almost midnight when Eliot dragged himself down the stairs from Nate’s place and out to his truck. His muscles were sore and his back ached and he was more than ready to drive his ass home and climb into bed. It had been another rough job. Granted, Nate had dreamed up a brilliant plan, and they’d all pulled it off with a flourish. But in the process, Eliot had taken a beating—and not just a physical one. Right now, his pride was limping along in worse shape than the rest of him. He’d gone down harder and faster than he was comfortable admitting.
Letting out a breath, Eliot climbed into his truck and fumbled his key into the ignition. Just as he was about to start the engine, though, the passenger side door was wrenched opened and Parker slipped inside. She closed and locked the door behind her and immediately started yanking on the seatbelt.
Eliot plastered a scowl on his face. “Parker, what’re you doing?”
Parker looked up at him and flashed a sunny smile. “Putting on my seatbelt.”
“Why?”
She shook her head and grinned. “Because it’s the law, silly.”
Eliot arched an eyebrow. “We’re criminals,” he said.
“That doesn’t mean we have to go around breaking the law.”
“Parker, that’s exactly what—” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Eliot let out a breath and turned the key in the ignition. There was no point in arguing this one. “Never mind,” he said, as they pulled into traffic. “Why are you in my truck?”
Parker shivered and folded her arms across her chest. She was wearing only a thin jacket, and the temperature had dropped considerably after night had fallen. “Because I want spaghetti,” she said. “And you need company.”
Eliot turned the knob on his heater up to high. “I don’t need company.”
“Of course you don’t.” Parker patted him on the knee.
“And I’m not making you spaghetti at midnight.”
Narrowing her eyes at him, Parker bit her bottom lip. “Are you sore and achy? If you’re too sore, we could have Chinese.”
As Eliot turned the corner, he huffed out a breath. “Why do you assume we’re gonna have dinner anyway? Maybe I want to go home and sleep.”
“We always have dinner after a job,” she reminded him. “And you never go right to sleep when you go home.”
Squaring his jaw, Eliot stared out at the road ahead of him. He wasn’t surprised that Parker was in his truck. Not really. Over the past few months, this exercise in frustration had become a familiar after-job ritual. Parker would go home with him (or sometimes break into his place and wait for him to walk in). Then they would bicker and pick at each other and eventually have dinner and sit on the couch in comfortable silence.
If Eliot were being honest with himself, he would have to admit that Parker’s presence, especially after a brutal job, meant a lot to him. Sure, he growled and pitched a fit. But in the end, Parker was right—he did need the company.
Poking him on the arm, Parker bounced in her seat. “You know what we could do? We could watch Mary Poppins tonight!”
Gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, Eliot shook his head. “We’re not watching Mary Poppins,” he groused. “I’m feeding you, then I’m sending you home. Then I’m gonna shower and hit the bed.”
Parker shifted against the seat belt. After a few seconds, she sat up a little straighter. “We could watch Mary Poppins while we’re eating.”
“It doesn’t take that long to eat a plate of spaghetti, Parker,” Eliot said. “I’m not entertaining you tonight. I just want to get some sleep.”
“You won’t really sleep,” Parker said. “You’ll just stare at your ceiling and think about things that make you grumpy.”
He flashed a glare at her. “Well, I don’t even own Mary Poppins.”
“We’ll break into the DVD place on the way home.”
“We’re not stealing anything tonight, “ he said. “And we’re not watching Mary Poppins. I’m tired, and I’m sore.”
“You’re also cranky,” she said. After a few seconds, she smacked him on the arm. “You know what would brighten your day? A fun and whimsical musical!”
“Whimsical?”
“Like Mary Poppins!”
“Ain’t happening, sweetheart. Just let it go.”
***
Eliot held the strainer with both hands and flipped the cooked spaghetti noodles into the waiting pan. He glanced sideways at Parker, who was leaning against the counter and looking more than a little pleased with herself.
“Don’t be thinking you won a battle here,” he said. Shaking his head, he smiled in spite of himself.
She flashed him a sloppy grin, tugged open the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of raspberry iced tea. “You make my favorite spaghetti ever.”
He bit back a grin. “Don’t try to butter me up, sweetheart. You already got what you wanted.”
Without warning, she breezed up next to him and wrapped her arms around one of his biceps. After giving his arm an awkward squeeze, she let him go and walked across to the cupboards. “I’ll get the plates.”
As Eliot finished mixing the noodles together with his too-quickly prepared sauce, he watched Parker scurry around the kitchen. She had way too much energy for someone who just finished a job like the one they had come off of. He enjoyed watching her like this, though. She was so full of life and almost…shiny with enthusiasm. Sometimes, he had to look away from her just to catch his breath.
After they finished dinner, the two of them headed into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. Eliot scooped up the remote, then let his sore body fall against the cushions, while Parker curled up next to him. Over the past few weeks, she’d started sitting closer to him than usual, and Eliot wasn’t sure what to make of it. This was Parker, after all. She didn’t cuddle up next to guys. She stabbed them with forks when they breeched her personal space. Granted, she had gotten more comfortable touching people in the past year. But still, it was Parker.
All he knew was it felt way too damn good when her arm brushed against his or her hair tickled against his neck. The whole thing had his survival instincts kicking in. In his mind’s eyes, he could see every wrong thing that could grow out of this…whatever it was. And it scared the crap out of him.
Eliot pressed a few buttons on his remote, then he and Parker settled in to watch their movie. A few minutes in, Parker rested her head on his shoulder.
Impulsively, Eliot turned toward her and he nuzzled her neck a bit, then her cheek. Parker gazed curiously at him, but she didn’t move away. If anything, she inched a tiny bit closer to him. When he was pretty sure she wasn’t planning to stab him with anything, he pressed his lips to hers. To his relief, she kissed back. The kiss was soft and gentle, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
When they finally pulled apart, Parker cocked her head at Eliot and said, “Your face is scratchy. I like it.”
Eliot self-consciously rubbed a hand over the razor stubble on his face. Then glancing at Parker, who had turned her attention back to the movie as if nothing unusual had just happened between them, he smiled to himself.
After a few minutes, he fell asleep with Parker’s head tucked against his shoulder and Mary Poppins on the TV.
Master Fic List
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Eliot/Parker
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1278
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, Eliot would have a mandatory shirtless scene at least once a season.
Summary: After jobs, Eliot and Parker like to keep each other company.
Author’s Notes: This was written for
betty_mraz for the leverageland Secret Santa. Now that our identities have been revealed, I figured I’d post it here. It was almost midnight when Eliot dragged himself down the stairs from Nate’s place and out to his truck. His muscles were sore and his back ached and he was more than ready to drive his ass home and climb into bed. It had been another rough job. Granted, Nate had dreamed up a brilliant plan, and they’d all pulled it off with a flourish. But in the process, Eliot had taken a beating—and not just a physical one. Right now, his pride was limping along in worse shape than the rest of him. He’d gone down harder and faster than he was comfortable admitting.
Letting out a breath, Eliot climbed into his truck and fumbled his key into the ignition. Just as he was about to start the engine, though, the passenger side door was wrenched opened and Parker slipped inside. She closed and locked the door behind her and immediately started yanking on the seatbelt.
Eliot plastered a scowl on his face. “Parker, what’re you doing?”
Parker looked up at him and flashed a sunny smile. “Putting on my seatbelt.”
“Why?”
She shook her head and grinned. “Because it’s the law, silly.”
Eliot arched an eyebrow. “We’re criminals,” he said.
“That doesn’t mean we have to go around breaking the law.”
“Parker, that’s exactly what—” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Eliot let out a breath and turned the key in the ignition. There was no point in arguing this one. “Never mind,” he said, as they pulled into traffic. “Why are you in my truck?”
Parker shivered and folded her arms across her chest. She was wearing only a thin jacket, and the temperature had dropped considerably after night had fallen. “Because I want spaghetti,” she said. “And you need company.”
Eliot turned the knob on his heater up to high. “I don’t need company.”
“Of course you don’t.” Parker patted him on the knee.
“And I’m not making you spaghetti at midnight.”
Narrowing her eyes at him, Parker bit her bottom lip. “Are you sore and achy? If you’re too sore, we could have Chinese.”
As Eliot turned the corner, he huffed out a breath. “Why do you assume we’re gonna have dinner anyway? Maybe I want to go home and sleep.”
“We always have dinner after a job,” she reminded him. “And you never go right to sleep when you go home.”
Squaring his jaw, Eliot stared out at the road ahead of him. He wasn’t surprised that Parker was in his truck. Not really. Over the past few months, this exercise in frustration had become a familiar after-job ritual. Parker would go home with him (or sometimes break into his place and wait for him to walk in). Then they would bicker and pick at each other and eventually have dinner and sit on the couch in comfortable silence.
If Eliot were being honest with himself, he would have to admit that Parker’s presence, especially after a brutal job, meant a lot to him. Sure, he growled and pitched a fit. But in the end, Parker was right—he did need the company.
Poking him on the arm, Parker bounced in her seat. “You know what we could do? We could watch Mary Poppins tonight!”
Gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, Eliot shook his head. “We’re not watching Mary Poppins,” he groused. “I’m feeding you, then I’m sending you home. Then I’m gonna shower and hit the bed.”
Parker shifted against the seat belt. After a few seconds, she sat up a little straighter. “We could watch Mary Poppins while we’re eating.”
“It doesn’t take that long to eat a plate of spaghetti, Parker,” Eliot said. “I’m not entertaining you tonight. I just want to get some sleep.”
“You won’t really sleep,” Parker said. “You’ll just stare at your ceiling and think about things that make you grumpy.”
He flashed a glare at her. “Well, I don’t even own Mary Poppins.”
“We’ll break into the DVD place on the way home.”
“We’re not stealing anything tonight, “ he said. “And we’re not watching Mary Poppins. I’m tired, and I’m sore.”
“You’re also cranky,” she said. After a few seconds, she smacked him on the arm. “You know what would brighten your day? A fun and whimsical musical!”
“Whimsical?”
“Like Mary Poppins!”
“Ain’t happening, sweetheart. Just let it go.”
***
Eliot held the strainer with both hands and flipped the cooked spaghetti noodles into the waiting pan. He glanced sideways at Parker, who was leaning against the counter and looking more than a little pleased with herself.
“Don’t be thinking you won a battle here,” he said. Shaking his head, he smiled in spite of himself.
She flashed him a sloppy grin, tugged open the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of raspberry iced tea. “You make my favorite spaghetti ever.”
He bit back a grin. “Don’t try to butter me up, sweetheart. You already got what you wanted.”
Without warning, she breezed up next to him and wrapped her arms around one of his biceps. After giving his arm an awkward squeeze, she let him go and walked across to the cupboards. “I’ll get the plates.”
As Eliot finished mixing the noodles together with his too-quickly prepared sauce, he watched Parker scurry around the kitchen. She had way too much energy for someone who just finished a job like the one they had come off of. He enjoyed watching her like this, though. She was so full of life and almost…shiny with enthusiasm. Sometimes, he had to look away from her just to catch his breath.
After they finished dinner, the two of them headed into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. Eliot scooped up the remote, then let his sore body fall against the cushions, while Parker curled up next to him. Over the past few weeks, she’d started sitting closer to him than usual, and Eliot wasn’t sure what to make of it. This was Parker, after all. She didn’t cuddle up next to guys. She stabbed them with forks when they breeched her personal space. Granted, she had gotten more comfortable touching people in the past year. But still, it was Parker.
All he knew was it felt way too damn good when her arm brushed against his or her hair tickled against his neck. The whole thing had his survival instincts kicking in. In his mind’s eyes, he could see every wrong thing that could grow out of this…whatever it was. And it scared the crap out of him.
Eliot pressed a few buttons on his remote, then he and Parker settled in to watch their movie. A few minutes in, Parker rested her head on his shoulder.
Impulsively, Eliot turned toward her and he nuzzled her neck a bit, then her cheek. Parker gazed curiously at him, but she didn’t move away. If anything, she inched a tiny bit closer to him. When he was pretty sure she wasn’t planning to stab him with anything, he pressed his lips to hers. To his relief, she kissed back. The kiss was soft and gentle, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
When they finally pulled apart, Parker cocked her head at Eliot and said, “Your face is scratchy. I like it.”
Eliot self-consciously rubbed a hand over the razor stubble on his face. Then glancing at Parker, who had turned her attention back to the movie as if nothing unusual had just happened between them, he smiled to himself.
After a few minutes, he fell asleep with Parker’s head tucked against his shoulder and Mary Poppins on the TV.
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