"I know I'm Irish, but this is ridiculous!"
Nate regards Cora speculatively, saying nothing yet.
"Can you help me or what?" she asks, pulling out the full force of wide eyes and long lashes.
"Cora," Nate says at last, "You do know what we actually do here at "Leverage Consulting" right?"
"It's hard to forget," she says, not even trying to hide the sass in her voice.
After all, Nate and his team had saved her bar, but had also since brought almost more trouble and property damage to it than before.
"Even within the guidelines of a completely legitimate business, this isn't the kind of thing we do."
"I know!" Cora exclaims in frustration. "But I can only call animal control so many times. And I don't want to hurt them, but they just keep showing up!"
Before Nate can argue, Parker walks into the bar and takes a seat beside Nate at the bar, smiling when Cora automatically pours her a soda.
"What are we talking about?" she asks, sipping her soda through one of the crazy-straws that Cora special ordered.
Nate sighs.
"Cora wants us to get rid of her rabbit infestation."
Parker's eyes go dark, but before she can get too upset, Nate continues.
"Without hurting them, of course. But I was just telling Cora that this isn't the type of thing we do."
"But…bunnies!" Parker says, looking very much like a giant five year old.
Cora practically growls at the mention of them.
"They're everywhere!" she says, flushing with aggravation. "I don't know where they're all coming from! This isn't exactly a rural area! If I didn't know any better, I'd swear someone was doing it on purpose."
She pauses for a moment, considering what she just said.
"I don't know better!" she says, suddenly grinning. "For all I know, it's an old enemy of my dad's, enacting revenge!"
"Hippity hoppity revenge!" Parker adds, matching her grin to Cora's.
"Whose hippity hopping?" Hardison asks, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and sliding onto the stool next to Parker.
"The bunnies that we're going to rescue," Parker says.
"Eliminate," Cora corrects, before softening slightly under Parker's glare, "Humanely."
"No, we are not," Nate says again, "We have real cases to handle. Multiplying rabbits is not our niche!"
"What do you think, Hardison?" Cora asks the hacker, handing him a bottle of his favorite soda.
Hardison looks back and forth between Parker and Nate for just a moment before nodding.
"I'm pro bunny-rescue!" he says, accepting the fist-bump that Parker immediately offers.
Nate mumbles something about being whipped, which Hardison ignores in favor of sipping his soda and tangling his feet with Parker's on the metal rod beneath the bar.
Eliot chooses that moment to come in, and heads to the bar with a look of slight amusement as he takes in the scene.
"New case?" he asks, accepting the beer that Cora makes appear gratefully.
"NO," Nate says, just as the others chorus "yes."
Eliot raises an eyebrow.
"Please, Eliot," Cora says, giving him the doe-eyed look that failed to move Nate. "Make him help me. They're driving me crazy!"
"Who is?" Eliot asks, looking suspiciously around the otherwise empty bar.
"The rabbits," Nate says, resignation creeping into his expression.
"The Eastern-European assassins?" Eliot asks, looking slightly alarmed.
"What?" Cora asks, clearly confused.
"What?" Eliot says, trying and failing to backtrack, "Never mind."
As if on cue, Eliot feels a sudden weight against his feet, and he laughs before reaching down and scooping up the little brown rabbit.
"Hey, buddy," he says, petting it softly.
"Scourge!" Cora exclaims, pointing at the ball of fur in annoyance.
The rabbit, to its credit, remains calm on Eliot's thigh, apparently unfazed by the attention.
"Cora thinks it's revenge bunny-fying," Parker says, conversationally.
"It makes about as much sense as anything else," Cora says.
Nate just sighs into his whiskey and wonders where Sophie is.
.
.
When Sophie comes into Nate's apartment later that day, she's met with the sight of Parker lying on the floor, surrounded by five rabbits of different shades of brown, hopping around her in apparent fun. Hardison is sitting close by, with his back against the couch, watching the scene with a soft smile on his face. Eliot is in the kitchen, chopping something Sophie is beginning to think is carrots. Nate's at his kitchen counter, sipping what she hopes is coffee and very nearly pouting.
She places her bags from Newbury Street down carefully and looks to Nate with wide eyes.
"So," she asks, "What did I miss?"
.
.
"My mother used to make rabbit stew," Nate says the next day as they're meeting up to formulate a plan.
"You are not making Fluffy, Puffy, Floofy, Poofy and Bob into stew!" Parker says, covering one of the bunny's ears with her hands.
"Bob?" Nate can't help but ask.
Parker nods.
"He looks like a Bob," she says, reaching out and petting the chocolate colored rabbit Nate assumes is Bob.
"He looks like a rabbit," Nate says, shaking his head. "Let's just get this over with. Then we can find a home for all these little fu… rends."
Parker glares up from her spot on the floor, holding her arms out. Eerily, all five bunnies make their way to her, settling around her knees.
"Right," Nate says, turning his attention to Hardison, who is busy fiddling with the remote.
"Did you find anything on the security cams?"
"As a matter of fact…" Hardison says, smirking as he pulls a picture up on the screen.
"Wait," Sophie says, peering a little closer at the screen, "That's Eliot. And…is that Cora?"
They turn to Eliot in unison, who has the decency to look embarrassed.
"It was just a kiss!" he says. "She was drunk, I was… ok, not that drunk, but that's why it was only a kiss!" Plus, that was months ago. Why do you even have that tape, Hardison?"
"Hah, tape," Hardison laughs, "You're so old. My security system has video records going back to the day we moved in."
"I hate you," Eliot says, though there's no heat in his voice.
"Mm-hm," Hardison says, unconcerned. "Anyway," he continues, "I did actually find something, about a week after Eliot and Cora's little moment."
"Fuck off," Eliot grumbles, but leans forward with interest anyway.
.
They watch as Hardison plays the video from the camera trained on the back door of the bar. Like a scene in a bad movie, a dark sedan pulls up, and a man dressed all in black, complete with ski mask, hops out. There's an honest to God burlap sack over his back. He presses the security code into the keypad and the door opens easily. He doesn't step in, but crouches and opens the bags, giving the rabbits inside a little shove so they move into the building. When he's satisfied with their progress, he closes the door and re-sets the alarm, before getting back into his car and driving away.
.
When the video is done, the team shares looks of incredulity.
"Did that actually happen?" Sophie asks, looking mildly offended at the laziness of the job.
"That was just…tacky," Parker agrees.
"We obviously need to beef up security," Nate says, furrowing his brow. "How could he have the code, anyway? It didn't look like he used any of Hardison's fancy gadgets."
"My guess is that he followed Cora," Eliot says, "She wouldn't be as aware as one of us, and if he was sneaky enough, he could just watch her punch in the code.
"The question is," Nate says, "Who is this guy? And why rabbits? If he wanted to hurt her, there are much more effective ways."
"It must be symbolic somehow," Sophie says, "Even if just to him."
"That was three months ago" Parker says, thoughtfully, still petting Fluffy. Or maybe it's Floofy. Nate can't tell.
"Did he come back recently?" she asks.
"Not that I could find," Hardison says, "Which now that you mention it, doesn't make any sense. Cora said she's seen at least twenty rabbits in the past couple of months, most of which animal control took away. But there was maybe four or five in that bag."
"Rabbits breed fast," Nate supplies, shrugging.
"There's a reason for the term 'breeding like rabbits,'" Eliot adds.
"So, somebody wants Cora to be overrun with ever-replenishing rabbits," Sophie says. "But that still doesn't explain why."
"Can you get anything else from the video?" Nate asks Hardison, whose fingers are already flying over his keyboard.
"Maybe," he says. "Our camera didn't catch the license plate, but there's a few traffic light cams ahead, maybe we'll get lucky. Give me a mi… aha! Got you, sucker!"
"What do we have?" Nate asks, actually looking mildly interested.
Hardison fiddles with the computer for another few minutes before answering.
"The car is registered to an Anthony Marcelli Jr, of the North End. Tony here is thirty-six, has a few speeding tickets but it otherwise coming up clean in all of my scans."
"Let's go talk to Cora again," Nate says, leading the way.
.
.
"Never heard of him," Cora says, ushering the team to the opposite side of the bar than the two real customers watching the game.
"Are you sure?" Sophie asks, "Friend of a friend, maybe?"
Cora stares at the picture again, more carefully.
"He does look vaguely familiar," she says after a minute, "But I don't know why. I definitely don't know his name, though. We don't get too many Italian regulars in an Irish bar. Stupid old stereotypes and traditions, ya know?"
"Hardison," Nate says suddenly, turning to the other man, "What did you say Anthony did for a living, again?"
"Um," Hardison says, consulting his phone, "He and his father run a bar. Actually, it's only a few blocks away…Oh. Seriously?"
"Apparently," Eliot says, shaking his head. "A turf war? Really? That's just so…lame."
"Not to mention horrible clichéd," Sophie adds.
"Whatever," Cora interrupts, "I don't care how cliché it is. He tried to mess up my business. I could have been shut down by the health department! The real health department. I want revenge."
"Redheads, man," Eliot laughs, grinning at her. She takes a moment to actually smile back, before going back to scowling in anger.
"Stop it," Nate says to Eliot, sending a glare of his own.
"I have an idea," Parker says.
The others turn to her and she smirks with obvious glee.
.
.
"Cora, girl!"
Cora nods and smiles to Benny, one of her regulars, and moves to bring him his beer.
"Usual, Benny?" she asks.
"You bet, sweetheart," the older man says, kindly. "Say, did you hear about the fuss the other night over at that Marcelli place?"
Cora regards him with a well-perfected poker face.
"Can't say I did, Benny. What happened?"
He shrugs. "Only heard it second hand, myself. But the story is, they were overrun by rats. Got shut down temporarily by the inspectors, and fined big time. Major health violations."
"Oh my," Cora says, affecting a sympathetic expression, "What a shame."
"Never mind them," Benny says, "I'd never leave this place, anyway. Too many memories."
Cora smiles. She knows exactly what he means.
.
.
"I don't want to let them go," Parker says, pouting as Hardison drives her and the bunnies to the bunnies' new home. "We got them neutered, cant we keep them?"
The bunnies are in the back, skittering around the cages nervously, made uneasy by the car ride. Luckily, it's a short drive.
"They'll be happy at their new home," Hardison says, reaching out to pat Parker's hand comfortingly.
Parker just sighs and looks out the window.
After a while, they pull into the driveway of a cute one story house, complete with an enormous fenced in yard.
"Here we are," Hardison says.
They get out and Parker regards the house suspiciously.
Before she can comment further, a kindly looking middle aged woman with long, sand colored hair comes out of the house and walks to them, shaking their hands as she introduces herself.
Her name is Sarah, but Parker doesn't really listen after the initial introductions. Hardison is handing Sarah the cages, and she's just watching him sadly, leaning against the car.
But then she notices Sarah coming back with a small carrier and handing it to Hardison.
"What's going on?" Parker asks, trying not to get too hopeful.
"You get to keep one," Hardison says, smiling, "Sarah could only take four, after all."
Parker knows it's a lie, but she doesn't care.
"Bob!" she exclaims, hugging the carrier close.
"He looks like a Bob," Sarah says, peering at the resting rabbit.
"Right?" Parker says, instantly happier.
"You feel free to come and visit the others whenever you want," Sarah says, teetering slightly backwards when Parker suddenly hugs her.
"Thanks again," Hardison says, pulling Parker away.
Sarah waves them off until they've driven out of view, before chuckling softly and heading back inside.
.
.
"Do bunnies wear leashes?" Parker asks on the way home.
Hardison just laughs. This is going to be interesting.
.
.
THE END.