A/N: All right, I'll just post all the decent fics I have saved then. More Eliot whump, curveball! Yup, I'm a sucker for it. Sorry, I just keep getting these ideas for new stories, and while I chase those new plot bunnies, my other fics seem to get left behind. At least I haven't abandoned writing altogether, just the whole charade of continuing a story even if I'm running on fumes for that particular fic. Anyway, please enjoy this starter, it's a little different from my usual style for an opening. Who knows, maybe I'll even continue it!
It was the end of a con that the team ran on a deceptively small-time mayor. Eliot and Nate walked out of the town hall, as the mastermind had played an undercover cop while the hitter had played his also undercover partner. They tucked their fake badges into their pockets as Nate said, "Well, that was actually a lot less complicated than usual."
Parker chirped up over the comms. "Does that mean we can all go steal something expensive?"
Sophie chuckled, "No Parker, Nate said he'd take me shopping, right Nathan?"
"Aw, man, my condolences," Hardison said sympathetically.
"Nate, why was Pellegrino acting like that? Like he was waiting for something else to happen, kept checking his watch and the door. D'you think-" Eliot was cut off.
"Eliot this is the first easy run we've had in ages. It ran smoothly and we clearly won. Why are you so nervous?" The mastermind scolded.
The hitter growled. "I ain't nervous, I just don't think it went as smoothly as you'd like to think! It should not have been that easy to bring down a mayor."
"We've done it before," pointed out the ever-present grifter.
"Yeah, and Sterling had half a DC on our tails! I'm tellin' ya, this don't feel right."
"What, your spidey-senses start tinglin' and suddenly you're goin' all harbinger-of-doom on us? Chill out, you're so damn paranoid." Hardison's comment rubbed him the wrong way.
"Listen, let's just get back and pack up. We'll get home before the day's done."
Eliot was glad to be headed to where he could keep an eye on the whole team as he felt the sudden compulsion to escape. "Get down!" He ground out as he pulled his teammate down with him. Shots rang out and hit the wall above them, where they'd just been. The hitter dragged him over to crouch behind a car as the bullets came from across the street. "They're using 9mm semiautomatics, not runnin' out soon. We're not close enough to a corner so we gotta move from car to car until we get to the van. Shouldn't make 'em drive to us, th' panels migh' not take the bullets long."
Nate wondered why he was explaining the plan rather than executing it, until he saw the hand Eliot had pressed to his left thigh, blood staining his jeans. "You're shot."
The hitter glared at him. "Let's move."
The shots rang out again as they ran, crouching, behind the five cars to the van. What they couldn't see as Sophie opened the side door was that half a dozen men had come around the other way and so aimed their guns at the now frozen team.
"Back away and put your hands up," one of the gunmen ordered.
Eliot turned around, sizing him up despite his injured leg. The man wisely stood out of his reach, aiming his gun at Nate's head. "Make one wrong move and he's dead. Hands on your head and kneel." He cocked the pistol for emphasis. After a moment and to the team's surprise, Eliot complied. Nate followed suit and two men stepped forward to wrench their arms back and lock cuffs as tight as they'd cinch around their wrists. Both were dragged up and Eliot frowned as another gunman came to hold him by his other arm. He knew that the cuffs were too tight to escape with a simple thumb dislocation. For now, he was out of commission.