Edit 8/20 (Whoops, wrote "9/20" first, just realized it like, 2 weeks later, ha): Apparently, this story didn't show up for some people for a couple of hours, so if something like that happens, please give me a heads up so I can as support to look into it. Thanks, and sorry for the inconvenience!

I'm back!

So here we are again. Birthday fic. Every birthday since my twentieth, with the exception of last year (personal reasons – but it would have been "Twenty-Four Hours," fyi), I have written stories to match my age in both theme and quantity. These have been in the fandoms of Supernatural and Leverage, for the most part (check out my profile for the complete list, if you're interested).

This year is the big twenty-five. That means twenty-five stories, one posted every day until the big day. I don't have much of a theme this year, beyond "free-for-all on all things to do with twenty-five." So that's twenty-five anything, from the actual quantity 25, to 25%, $25, to quarters (the fraction and the coin, as well as other usages of the word).

Also, another note: A few of the stories that I've written so far for this are connected to previous stories written by me. "Sticky Little Fingers" 'verse and "McDonald Boys" 'verse, to name a couple. Also, there are a couple of crossovers (aforementioned "McDonald Boys" is already a crossover with Angel, and a Firefly crossover may make an appearance). As of right now, I have only about half of the stories done, so hopefully, I'll be able to keep up. If you have any ideas for 25, please shoot me a PM!

I haven't written fic in a while, so please bear with me! I'm still trying to get back into fic-writing shape.

It's an hour early where I am (still the 19th), but I need to go to bed, so here goes!

Summary: A collection of 25 stories for my 25th birthday, posted each day until the big day. This chapter: "25 Stories" Hardison, tall buildings. You do the math.

. . . . .

25 Stories

"Now, Hardison!"

"But I ain't in my zen place yet. Can't be all jumpin' offa tall-ass buildings without bein' in my zen place. Cuz it's my zen place. And it's kinda high, and I got sensitive equipment on me, an'..."

"Dammit, Hardison! Just jump already 'fore I climb up there and kick your sensitive zen place in the ass!"

"That's not conductive to productive behavior, Eliot. How would you feel if I threatened you while you were about to set out on a terrifying and probably very short journey vertically downwards, probably to your death?"

The silence is answer enough. (Actually, the silence isn't so much silence but lack of speech punctuated by the sounds of grinding teeth.)

"Hardison," Sophie's voice comes over the line like cool silk, soothing all ruffled feathers, "Don't you think that a man who could face Russian diamond smugglers is man enough to take a tiny little step off a rather small building to which he is tethered rather tightly?"

The sputters on the hacker's end of the com - nay, the lack of speech altogether - says volumes, mostly to the tune of 'Et tu, Sophie?'

"Small building?!" he finally says. "Small?!"

"It's only twenty-five stories, Hardison," scoffs Parker. "A baby could do it."

"Yeah," Hardison agrees, "and then go splat into baby pancake! Anyone could splat pretty damn easily, if you wanna put it that way!"

"No one is going to splat, Hardison," cuts in Nate.

"'Cept Hardison, if he doesn't jump offa the damn building!" growls Eliot under his breath.

"Eliot," warns Nate lightly, "Now Hardison, you don't have to jump..."

"Damn straight."

"...if you're too scared to."

Silence.

"I hate you all."

Stifled giggles.

"Laugh it up. You just laugh it up. Scared? I'll give you scared. Scared my ass. Just jump off. Just waaaaaahhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHH!"

"Did anyone else see that?" asks Nate from his spot on the street.

Eliot sounds amused as he says, "Damn idiot slipped."

"On what? His shoelaces?" giggles Parker.

"I didn't know he was that flexible," comments Sophie thoughtfully, "Have you been training with him, Parker?"

"No, but maybe we should work on rappelling more. That was the worst jump I've ever seen."

"I hate you. I hate all of you."

"Finish the job, Hardison."

. . . . .

AN: So how was that? *hides* *peeks through fingers*