This is me branching out, I guess. Just an idea that wouldn't leave me alone.
Moderate spoilers for the third season and end of the second season, and explicit spoilers for Rashomon Job and Ho Ho Ho Job, as well as the Nigerian Job, but that goes without saying.
Italics are flashbacks, "Quotations are spoken word", and plain type is narration and Nathan's thoughts.
Disclaimer: Do not own, or why would I bother writing a fanfic?
Come on, Nathan, tell the truth. Did you have a little bit of fun, playing the black king instead of the white knight? Just this once?
My job is helping people. I find bad guys.
Well, go find some bad guys. Bad guys have money. Black king...white knight.
Someplace along the line, I was given a reputation. White knight, indeed! But still, I suppose, like many things, it's true...in a way. In a very, very strange way. At least, until Mr. Dubanich decided to shortcut the work Pierson had put in for the past 5 years and decided not to pay 3 thieves and 1 honest man. When you've got everything, well, since when do you need to pay lackeys?
Of course, that honest man found another thief, to get revenge. Who thought that finding revenge and getting money would be enough to make 5 lone-wolves cooperate.
(After a flashback with Sophie's accent well overdone and Austrailian) Wait, wait, what's that voice, that's horr-What is that? That's what I sound like to you? (Hardison laughs.)
(After a flashback with Eliot's accent well overdone a la Western stereotype) (Hardison continues laughing) Wait wait, what was that? That's ridiculous! (To Hardison) Shut up!
(After a flashback with Sophie's accent made into...something) I hate you all.
Dammit Hardison!
Dammit Eliot!
Don't be stupid Hardison!
What?
Sophie was still in there.
I just got run over by a car!
*imitates* I just got run over by a car! Get over it!
Well, cooperate was overstating it, sometimes. They all bickered like children and frequently found differences in each other. Nathan Ford stared at his empty mug while contemplating the thieves that had become his team.
Hardison was the hacker, and he was the best of his kind, not even considering his "manliness". Hardison, although he didn't suffer from overconfidence like Chaos, had focus issues and, as Eliot put it, he and Parker were in some sort of competition to "out-weird" each other. He chuckled. Not that he didn't have confidence, but it wasn't undeserved when he let it loose. Now, I've ID'd the perp, I know what they want, and I know why. What did you do with your afternoon? (Eliot) I'll tell you what I'm gonna do! But he and Parker seemed to get along (more than get along), and although he and Eliot had obvious differences and hearing "Dammit Hardison!" was not uncommon, they had found some sort of brother relationship over time. He thought back to a few hours ago. Seeing his eyes light up looking at a new electronic toy to play with beats anything he'd done that day, hands down...except maybe...well...When he saw Parker and Hardison together might just be better.
Parker...now there was a girl, never mind a thief. Twenty pounds of crazy in a five pound bag, Eliot had said. But she had found a friend, a brother in him, all the same. And Hardison was finding a more-than-friend in her. Someplace along the line, she, with Hardison, had adopted him as a sort of father-figure. It was natural, he supposed, to want a father after all she had been through. He guessed, angry as it made him, Archie Leach was the closest she'd ever had to a father. I taught Parker all I knew and unleashed her on the world. But even with her cock-eyed way of looking at the world, she had a sort of weird wisdom to her. She enjoyed herself to the fullest, and wasn't shy about her opinions. But she could act when necessary. It took a while, and an interesting trial of the corrupt sort, to teach her, but she learned. She hasn't gotten rid of her fondness for money, though he guessed as a child, seeing people happy when they got their paycheck, and people with money being happier, it would fuel that desire.
Eliot. Funny how he's become my final son. But he's not always a son, sometimes more like a brother, even a father once in a while. But I still consider him my son. He's not nearly as tough as he pretends to be, and although he frequently teases and scares the bejeezus out of Hardison, and calls Parker crazy with almost clock-like regularity, he'll beat up anyone else who calls Parker nuts or who messes with Hardison's equipment. Well, at least whoever calls Parker nuts. He's very kind somewhere under the tough survivor he's buried his heart under. So, are you mean, or what? *hands over present* Shh, don't tell anybody. Never mind, talented, he reminded himself. Not only is he the best fighter I've ever seen, but he can cook like a five star chef, ride horses as well as a professional jockey, act just by natural charm, and, damn, can he sing. It's me, thinkin' of you... Somehow the oldest of the three kids, the look on his face when I gave him the sword...was priceless. A Sienzo sword. Yeah. How'd...who th...how...who...who did ya t-talk... Well, I-I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a samurai.
And Sophie...the last to join our little band of merry men. The last to join our family, and the mother-figure. And the person I cared most about. Sophie...well more correctly, Your Name Here, he reminded myself with a smile, but she'd somehow always be Sophie Devereaux to me. That kiss. Her voice, the reason why I'd missed her for so long. Oh, Tara had been okay, but she couldn't replace Sophie. I don't remember a kiss. I remember a slap. You're still going off of the slap.
Sophie...you came back.
You needed me.
Heh, maybe I wasn't the White Knight I once was. But Sophie wasn't the Black Queen, nor was Parker any longer the Black Bishop. Hardison was no longer the Black Knight, nor was Eliot the Black Rook. Somewhere, impossible to find, we'd become a family. Not only that, but in my process of bringing them closer to the White side of the Chessboard, someplace in there they'd been tinting me gray. Now I was the Gray King, with Sophie as my Queen. Parker became the Gray Bishop and Hardison became the Gray Knight. Eliot too, became the Gray Rook. Somehow, I didn't mind. We played for the White side of the Chessboard but darted in and out of the Black. The downside became we were no longer entirely accepted on either White or Black. Thieves of the more conventional sort marveled at my family, while my old acquaintances marveled equally at me.
My family. I looked over at Sophie and smiled. Eliot was still testing his new sword with a small, almost childish grin on his face when he thought no one was looking. Hardison was watching Parker stand in the snow with an equally childish grin and Parker, crazy grin though it was, grinned like I'd never seen her before and laughed a high, tinkling laugh I'd never even heard before.
Eliot sat back down, using all his self control not to grin. Parker ran over to Hardison and smiled at him before whispering something in his ear. We'd long taken out our earpieces, so I couldn't hear what it was. Hardison walked over and nudged Eliot before murmuring something under his breath to him too. Eliot smirked and Hardison grinned. Eliot nodded and they left upstairs. I looked over at Sophie and shrugged. I downed the rest of my (alcoholic) eggnog, and got ready to head upstairs.
Sophie said, "Leaving already? Oh, I forgot some of my jewelry in your apartment. Do you mind if I come up with you?"
I agreed, and we headed upstairs.
At the entrance to my apartment (our office, really) Parker bounced up to us and said, "Mistletoe!"
We both immediately craned our necks upward to see what was, indeed, mistletoe, hung above our heads.
"PARKER!" We both yelled in unison.
"I dunno, man, I think me an' Eliot gotta take some credit for that." We looked over at the kitchenette to see Hardison leaning on the bar with a grin on his face, and Eliot sitting at a chair and smirking.
"So, come on, kiss already," Eliot rumbled.
I sighed. She looked up at me. "Well, it is a tradition," I said, trying to hide my grin. She looked at me, not believing a moment of it.
I leaned down to whisper in her ear. "How about we kiss, and then we drag Hardison and Parker underneath. I'll take Hardison, you get Parker."
"I like that plan," she murmured back. And, with all the awkwardness of a first kiss, I leaned down and she tilted her head up. She kissed me, and my brain stopped for a moment. My eyes closed of their own accord. I tilted my head, attempting to deepen the kiss, but she pulled back and gave me a smile. "Let's save that for later, shall we? We do have a job to do."
I nodded, disappointed but knew she was right. Then I grinned and ran over to Hardison to drag him under the mistletoe. "Hey man-hey! What you doin'?"
Sophie had caught Parker and was leading her toward the mistletoe while Eliot laughed loud and hard. We shoved them under and laughed as they came face to face with each other with identical looks of shock. We watched, entertained, as the Knight attempted to talk himself out of it without success, as apparently the Bishop got bored and kissed him before he could react. The Rook, of course, was taking a picture with his phone.
The Gray King and Queen then looked at each other and reminded the Rook that he would be punished for that later. The Rook laughed and said the Knight had to catch him first. The Rook then retired to bed, soon to be followed by the Knight and the Bishop. The King and Queen remained at the window, watching the white Christmas snow fall on Boston.
The King murmured, "Merry Christmas, Gray Queen of mine."
"And to you, my Gray King."
So, I loved assigning them chess pieces. I decided to make Hardison the Knight because he is the only piece who can "jump" over barriers, and Eliot became the Rook because the Rook's more brute force than the other pieces. Plus, the Rooks are on the ends of the board, and it always kind of looked like they were sulking. Parker became the Bishop for another reason-remember the Beantown Bailout Job? Also known as the first episode of the second season, my favorite moment from there?
Shake it.
What?
Shake the Bible.
Oh, this is even more wrong.
It was a delicious irony too wonderful to pass up.