Title : Fighting Crime With Mangoes and Limes
Artist : sunspot. Sunspot created art which can be seen at her journal on Dreamwidth. The art mix inspired this fic.
Author : peaceful_sands
Beta : cougars_catnip
Disclaimer : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Characters : Special Agent Eliot Spencer, Special Agent Parker, Hardison, Sophie and Nathan
Rating : PG-13
Chapter 1 – Fighting Crime With . . . Mangoes?
"There's something wrong with you," Special Agent Eliot Spencer growled at his partner who was standing at the edge of the roof and looking down with a contemplative expression. "Seriously, you're not going after him that way!"
"But I could," Parker gave the eager expression that always made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "I could manage that easily," she said, pulling a pair of gloves from her pocket as if she intended to skim her way down the dangling rope, hand over hand with nothing to keep her attached to the rope.
Eliot gave her a disgusted look as if he'd never heard anything so absurd. Which in fact he hadn't, or not since the last time she suggested some equally preposterous idea. "Aw, don't be like that, Eliot. I'll be careful and you'll hold onto the rope to make sure it stays steady."
"I'll wobble it to make sure you fall off it, just to be rid of your craziness." Eliot sighed, "You'd think after this many years, I'd have earned the right to a half-way decent partner and not . . . you!"
She pouted and came away from the roof edge. "Maybe I'll leave him to the guys on the ground," she said unhappily, coming back to stand alongside Eliot. "I hate it when they get away. I just want to catch up with 'em and scrunch 'em up and stand on their toes, kick them in their shins and then . . . then I'll headbutt them."
"Crazy, that is what you are. You have a gun and handcuffs . . . why on earth would you stand on their toes and kick them in the shins? And as for the headbutting, need I mention police brutality and how frowned upon that is?"
"You're not telling me you've never roughed up a perp?" she asked with an evil gleam in her eye.
"Not talking about it," Eliot replied blandly, "Come on, no point hanging around up here. They've either got him down on the ground or we're back to square one and trying to figure out where he's hiding out this time."
Parker caught up with him, bouncing a little at his side, ignoring his growl of disapproval.
# # # # # # #
Hardison poked listlessly at the keyboard. He was bored, this was boring. He wanted more spice in his life, something to catch his interest and . . . distract him. "Seriously, guys, at least turn the comms off!" he moaned.
"No, we can't do that, because you can't be trusted at this point in time, can you?" Nate reprimanded firmly. "If we could be sure of you, then you wouldn't have to be supervised at all times."
Hardison rolled his eyes, then snapped, "But you're not supervising, you're making out with Sophie and making me listen. Which is totally gross, seriously, it's like reverse voyeurism or something."
"I think the word you're looking for is exhibitionism, and it was just a kiss," Sophie said sweetly, earning another eye roll from Hardison, though she would never know it. "You know it's your own fault that we have to do this, don't you? You were the one who let us down last time, just so that you could play on your Wizard War World thing."
Hardison pulled a face, then sniffed. "Exhibitionist!" he said, bitterly.
"I've been called worse than that," Nate replied drily.
"Me too," Sophie giggled and the next thing Hardison knew he was listening to more kissing that he really didn't need to hear.
# # # # # # #
The con should have been simple. It was simple, boringly simple in fact. Hardison listened to Sophie distracting the mark as Nate made a move to procur the paperwork they needed from the office. Seriously they didn't need him that much.
He shifted the mouse, letting the cursor hover over the start button so he could see what else there was on the computer that he could use to distract himself from the boredom. The utter and completely mindblowing boredom. He clicked and scanned down the list. He needed something quiet; anything with music in the background would alert Nate and Sophie to what he was doing and that was the last thing he needed right now.
Solitaire sounded at least a little distracting, not exactly as exciting as he really wanted, but at least, it was pretty undetectable from the other end of the phone and if he did have to pause the game it wasn't like anything would change. This game would just wait for him to make his way back to it once he'd corralled Nathan and Sophie into order again.
He'd barely clicked the mouse button to select the game when Nate's voice in his ear said, "You wouldn't be loading up a game round about now, would you, Hardison?"
He contemplated ignoring Nate or lying, but when Nate added, "I know that there were 257 games of Solitaire played before I went out," Hardison knew he was doomed to remain bored.
"No, I'm not loading up a game now," he replied archly. "Are you done yet?"
Nate snorted a laugh, "Feeling a little sore there, Hardison? A little like someone knows you too well? Yes I'm almost done here and then we'll be on our way back to you. Once you've seen this, and you've got into their system with the link, we'll even let you go hang out with your horde."
"About time too."
# # # # # # #
Eliot leaned back in his chair, stretching out the muscles that were tightening in his back the longer he sat tied to his computer keyboard typing up reports. If only he'd realized all those years ago that this was what working for the FBI would be for more hours of the week than he spent away from his desk actually bringing criminals to justice.
Still at least he was nearly done for the day or he would be if Parker was on track. He wasn't sure who he'd pissed off to end up with a probationer as his partner and then one like Parker, well he figured he must have done something pretty big. She was crazy. There was no other word for it. On their very first job together, she had carried a backpack which he'd found out later carried a complete kit for rappeling and that she was absolutely fearless about when to use it. For the first time in his whole career, he appeared to be the one with the common sense. He was certain his mentor from his own probationary days would be sitting back laughing uproariously at that turn out.
"PARKER!" he yelled, knowing they were the only two currently in the office and enjoying the sight of the probie jumping and then scowling furiously at him. She reminded him of a disgruntled squirrel with her tail all fluffed up. "Finished yet?" he asked sweetly.
The scowl deepened and she jabbed the keyboard hard. "No!" The pout was out in force and Eliot sighed knowing it meant he wasn't through for the day.
He gave a strong push with his feet and let his chair glide across the floor. It stopped right beside her without him putting his feet down and she frowned. "How do you do that? I can do the whole push and glide thing but I never finish exactly where I want to be and you always do."
Eliot said nothing, just quirked an eyebrow and turned to face her screen. "Why aren't you finished?" he asked a moment or two later, eyes already scanning down what she'd written. It wasn't as bad as he'd been expecting. "Parker, you really don't need to include the part about the mangoes. It wasn't really crucial to the proceedings. Just include the really salient points. You're not actually trying to bore anyone to death, just give them enough to let them say 'Wow! Great job!' and move right along to picking on some other poor sucker and let us get on with our job."
"But . . ."
"Salient, Parker. It means the important, irelevant/i bits. The fact the perp ran past a fruit stall and you, in your infinite wisdom, decided to pick up two mangoes and try and throw them at him to slow him down, is actually something you don't want to admit in public."
"But . . ."
"Particularly given how bad your throw was."
She harrumphed in protest and then snapped, "Well, I bet you couldn't have done any better!"
"Do you indeed? You really want to place that bet? I could be convinced to take it on."
She glared at him suspiciously, then said decisively, "Best of . . . five or ten?"
He smirked and said, "Finish the report, Parker. I want to go home."