Author's Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the characters from either Leverage or Witchblade. I'm just playing in the sandbox. All of these characters are the property of their respective creators. I'm not making any money off this story. You wouldn't get anything if you sued me.
Author's Note: I blame sleep deprivation courtesy of my 1 year old for coming up with this cracked crossover. I also blame the case of writer's block I've got on my other story. But hey, maybe writing something off the wall will shake me loose and get my other story moving again! For the moment though, I like the idea of this pairing. The dichotomy of a larger-than-life cop possessed by a mythic weapon and a down-to-earth con who'd rather use fists than guns falling for each other just gives me all sorts of ideas.
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Gabriel's shop was quiet. "Calm before the storm," he thought absent-mindedly as he logged some of his recent acquisitions into the book-keeping ledger on his computer. Much later he'd realize how accurately that thought had described the moment before Sara and Elliot met. Elliot's visit was expected. He'd called two days ago offering to sell Gabriel a set of Egyptian funeral masks.
"Yo do understand, Gabriel, that these masks can't be sold to anyone but private collectors? I need your guarantee that these won't be seen by the public for at least a decade or two," Gabriel was well aware of where Elliot got most of the items he sold. Back when they'd first met, Gabriel simply had a don't-ask-don't-tell policy. When something about Elliot shifted last year, Gabe had done some careful snooping. Like any good businessman and hacker he had put the pieces together to connect Elliot to the new later-day Robin Hood's Band with who he now worked. After that change Gabriel was no longer reluctant to buy from Elliot or meet his requests for discrete private buyers. Sometimes Elliot would share details about the jobs they'd pulled over a couple of beers and a round of pool once the business transactions had been completed. Gabriel had been hoping this would be one of those times since he knew Elliot was in town for a couple days. Sara's unexpected arrival changed those plans.
The door opened unannounced. "Hey, Gabe," Sara began familiarly not having noticed Elliot's presence. "I've got another weird one. You got a couple hours to let me pick your brain?"
Gabriel was immediately thankful that he and Elliot had already completed their business. Exactly how quickly could he get Elliot out of his shop without raising Sara's suspicions? There was something distinctly uncomfortable about the idea of having to explain to Sara what Elliot did for a living and why Gabriel was okay buying art from him. Sure, Sara wasn't always 100% legal in the way she went about catching criminals. But Gabriel wasn't sure whether or not she'd approve of Elliot's line of work and he didn't intend on finding out if he could avoid it.
Before Gabe had figured out his approach, Elliot stepped into Sara's line of view and held out his hand genially.
"I don't think we've met before. Elliot Spencer," he let a little bit of native Southern twang into his voice that Gabriel had only heard before when Elliot had a few beers in him. Uh-oh.
Sara plastered an automatic smile on her face as she turned to greet him. "Sorry, I hadn't realized, Gabriel had company..." The smile slid off Sara's face as she actually got a look at Elliot. Her face went blank and her eyes got a distant look to them that Gabriel knew all too well.
"Right! Elliot, this is my friend, Sara. I'd completely forgotten she was coming over. We've got plans so, um, if you and I are finished, I'm gonna have to get going!"
Elliot looked from Sara to Gabriel curiously then gave a half shrug. "Okay, man. Been good seein' ya. I'm 'round for a couple days so why don't you gimme a call if you want to shoot some pool."
Gabe gave him an artificial grin, opened the door, and ushered Elliot out before firmly shutting the door behind him. Gabriel turned back to Sara and immediately glanced down at her wrist to look for the tell-tale glow of the witchblade.
"I don't remember having plans, Gabe. What's the rush?"
"I, um, thought the withcblade was showing you something. What was it?"
"Nothing," the reply sounded completely sincere.
"Then what was with the fake smile?"
"You're friend Elliot looked familiar and I was trying to place the face. Any chance I've seen him before?"
"Nah," Gabriel replied hurriedly, hoping to change the conversation before Sara had a chance to dwell. "Elliot's not from around here. He's an old client that calls me up when he blows through town once in a while."
"Well then I guess I've never seen him before. Anyways, I stopped by to see if you could do some research for me. I've got a dead hitman in the morgue and I'm trying to figure out why he was in town and what the hell he was doing with this in his possession." She pulled out a sealed evidence bag containing a stone tablet covered in engraved writing.
Gabriel breathed a thankful sigh when Sara dropped the subject. He didn't particularly want to explain Elliot Spencer to Sara Pezzini. Or more specifically, he didn't want to explain Elliot to DETECTIVE Pezzini.
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