Leverage 2.13 "The Future Job" Missing Scene

by cassibill (I don't own Leverage. I just like to play with the characters.)

Nate sat at his personal computer in his bedroom. He had spent the better part of the evening since the team had started leaving for the night analyzing the complete operation of Dalton Rand. His victims, his team, his methods, his equipment, his area of operations, history, financial, whatever they had, he wanted to know it. Nate was methodical, obsessive, even in the smallest operations, but this one called for his A game. Not only was Rand good, the man had read Parker, but he had hurt her in the process. He'd opened up old wounds and bared them to the world. Parker wanted payback and the team wanted to give it to her. She would have it. A client that needed them was simply a bonus at this point.

The bottle of scotch sat at his elbow. He was working to maintain the right level of "focus" between the alcohol and the anger. His eyes rarely left the screen other than to refill his glass. When they did, he could see those eyes. Those confused and fearful eyes. They were the familiar shade of hazel/blue he saw most days on his couch, peering out from blond hair. Sometimes they were the ones he saw in the mirror looking out from a sick little boy's face. He reached for the glass without even realizing it.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been working when he sensed rather than heard someone outside the door to his bedroom. When no one called out or knocked, he slipped his baton out of the desk drawer and carefully approached the door, trying to decide his best option. He was right on the other side of the door, when he stepped on something. He looked down at the ground as he moved his foot. When he realized what it was, he lowered the baton and returned it to his desk drawer before turning to his closet.

Eliot found himself in a place he hadn't been before. Not in a physical sense, but a mental one. He found himself worried about his teammate. That itself wasn't unusual, but the manner was the confusing part. He knew Parker would be able to do the job. The more precarious the situation, the more stable she was, as horrifying as that was on some level. No, he was worried about her as a person. When the hell had that happened?

He could pick certain points when he'd noticed the effects, but never the changes themselves. She'd faced her fear of horses to help him help Aimee and her dad. She'd been worried when Rucker wanted him to throw that fight. When he'd caught her spying on him during on of his training sessions and later trying it by herself, he'd simply started to teach her to protect herself.

He'd been surprised. She was a good student, attentive, a quick learner, motivated. He'd enjoyed it. She was dangerously quick and her strength was easily underestimated. He had to work to keep up with her. That was simply good for everyone. He'd broken out his lesser used kicks and other moves relying on his legs. They catered to a woman's natural strengths and, with Parker's freakish gift for manipulating her body precisely through a space, they were deadly. Give her a gap in a building's security and she was in. Give her a gap in your defenses and you were down. She had stealth to protect her, but if she had to, fighting was a viable option for a short time. Then he'd be there and that would be that. She was fairly secure physically, but that...bastard...had done a number on her emotional defenses. Eliot growled and hoped he'd get the chance to do a number on his face.

He'd been concerned enough when Parker ran from the studio, but when they had returned to Nate's and found Parker balled up on the floor, the evidence of tears still on her face, it took every trace of his self-control not to walk straight out the door, storm Rand's studio, and kill him. The scumbag had made Parkercry. This time last year, Eliot would have started preparing for the apocalypse after seeing that, but now he realized Parker was simply capable of bottling up emotion to the point she seemed to not had any. Professionally, he could respect that kind of strength, but as her... friend, he worried. Those feelings need to go somewhere. Even he took out his anger and frustration on the heavy bag or cutting board. He wondered if she had any outlet at all.

They all had been watchful of the thief the rest of the day. Hardison had kept the television on shows she liked, but she only glanced at it on occasion. Nate had left his old security profiles of various museums and private collections laying out, saying he was considering reorganize them and then conveniently, getting engrossed in something else. Eliot quietly wondered if Nate hadn't been digging through Parker's file in his personal collection, trying to put this new piece in place. Even Tara had tried to draw Parker out with questions on different equipment configurations and what she thought was the best arrangement for Tara personally. The whole team knew Parker had probably already designed a custom rig for the fill-in grifter and a spare. That familiar look of "Do-you-pay-that-little-attention-to-the-world-around-you" Parker used when asked what she considered a stupid question settled the matter quickly.

Each one had several harnesses fitted and balanced just for them. Parker had treated to a skill building exercise. As soon as it was clear the team was for the long term, the personalized rigs had started appearing along side the generic ones. Hardison's and Sophie's were as safe and idiot-proof as they could be made. Nate's was more professional and Elliot's had been only a few notches down from Parker's. The skill, size, and proportion of each one had been accounted for. Sophie hadn't even hadn't even known she had one until she'd needed one to get Parker back. The grifter had become noticeably misty when Elliot had responded to her asking if he could find her something appropriate out of the "go bags" and he'd quickly pulled a rig out and tossed it to her with a "here's yours". She'd ran her finger over the "SD" in silver Sharpie in Parker's scrawl and swallowed hard a couple times. A flash of anger at the memory of Sophie conning the team was replaced with a strong desire for the grifter's presence. She was the best equipped to deal with Parker.

Eliot had tried to offer Parker a little comfort in his own way. He'd used the excuse of the team having a long night ahead to make a menu of foods that were easily eaten one handed and could be left out for people to eat at their convenience. They "happened" to include many of Parker's favorites. He'd announced there was food and watched. Nate fixed a plate and disappeared upstairs. Tara had eaten, told Hardison to email her about her new persona when he finished creating the paper trail, and left. Hardison had made a few trips to the kitchen counter while he waited on things. Parker didn't move from her spot on the floor. Elliot had fixed a plate for "himself", settled on the couch with the game, set the plate on the floor, picked up a couple items to keep up appearances, and waited. It took fifteen minutes, but the thief's instincts won out and she stole a few bites off his plate. As far as he knew, that had been it all day. She wasn't eating and he doubted she was going to sleep, when she'd left for the night. When he'd finished cleaning up the kitchen, he'd been struck with an urge to check up on her rather than heading to his own place.

Normally. he'd just drive by Nate's or Hardison's or Sophie's when he'd felt the need to check on them. He'd even inspected their security a couple of times without telling them. Parker was a different story. He had no idea where the thief lived. Not that he hadn't tried to find out. He'd tried out some of what Hardison had taught him to look for an address either rented or owned and came up with nothing Hardison! He'd put tracking chips in her shoes after Belgrade. He might know where she lived.

"Hardison, I thought I'd take some of these leftovers over to Parker's, but I don't have an address. Do you have one?"

"Nah, man, I still don't have one. No deed or lease under any of her aliases that I know 'bout. Could have somethin' under one we don't know about or, hell, maybe her real one. I tried to track her phone and shoes. The shoes have come up with a couple weird hits and she must turn her phone off when she goes home. I tried to find her on the security cameras after today, but no luck. I'm worried too, man. She's too quiet."

"What's weird about the shoes?"

"Well, I've seen them set stationary for days in various locations, but I can't figure out a pattern."

"Got a map?" Elliot waited for a map with about a dozen dots appear on the big screen. He looked closely at each location.

"See, man? Bus stations, open gyms, a couple college buildings,..." Hardison rambled before Eliot cut him off. "Storage lockers. She's switching shoes and leaving them in storage lockers. She's probably got a bag in everyone of those lockers and there are no records. You drop a quarter in and take the key."

"Damn, girl's paranoid."

"How many countries have bounties on her? How many others have warrants or open cases? There probably isn't a state with something worth stealing she hasn't hit. She just doesn't want to be found. Which locker did she use tonight?" A single location remained lit a few blocks away. "She wanted to get away quick tonight."

"Well, I need to let Tara know Bethany Noble officially exists. Even gave her a couple old speeding tickets and an overdue library book. I've got backgrounds on all of Rand's clients for the next two days. Can you go get Nate?"

"Sure thing." Eliot headed up the stairs and froze when he looked down the hall, spotting an object under a blanket. He sucked in a breath and slipped back downstairs.

"That was quick. Nate comin'?"

"Parker's curled up outside his bedroom door."

"When did she even come back? What's she doin' there?"

"It's Parker. If she could walk through walls, I wouldn't be surprised. Sleeping, I think. Guess she doesn't want to be alone."

"Sleeping outside Nate's bedroom door, man. That's just... weird. Even for Parker."

Eliot thought a minute and laughed a little as everything clicked. "When my nephew gets scared, he camps outside his parents' room since he doesn't want them to know he's scared. Him bein' a big boy and all. I bet Sophie wouldn't be surprised."

"You think she's done this with Sophie before."

"Probably, but 'Mom's out of town, so it's 'Dad's turn."

Hardison shuddered at that imagery. "So what are we gonna do?"

"Can't you just send Nate a message on his computer?"

Hardison had an offended look, but sent the message, ending in an awkward P.S. Nate's reply was quick.

"Good work, Hardison. I'll look through it and get back to you. P.S. I know she is. Where do you think the blanket and pillow came from?"

In the hall upstairs, Parker snuggled deeper under the blanket in her sleep. Bunny was tucked securely under her jacket, against her belly, as she started to recoil from the memories of a quiet street shattered by squealing brakes coming as relentlessly in dreams as they had in waking. Seconds after a barely audible whimper escaped her, the door was eased open and Nate gently lowered himself to the ground with his back against the door frame. She recoiled slightly from his hesitant touch, but started to relax as he brushed his hand against her hair, humming a tune he hadn't used in years. Both of them were haunted by memories of little boys taken too soon and their part in it and scarred by families broken by the strain, but the pieces of themselves that survived were comfortable together. That meant more than anything.