A Breath of Fresh Air

Written for the prompt : Leverage, Hardison, fresh air

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.

A Breath of Fresh Air

Eliot was not under any circumstances taking no for an answer. Between con data co-ordination and collection, hacking for fun, something called 'IMing' (whatever that might be, Eliot had no idea and even less desire to know) and his World of Warcraft, Eliot didn't think that Hardison had been outside the apartment in at least 56 hours. He was hyped on orange soda and take-out and Eliot wasn't going to stand for it any longer.

He was in charge of keeping the team healthy and in one piece. Okay, he could admit to himself that that shouldn't really apply in this case, Hardison was in no immediate danger from any lurking bad guys but as far as Eliot was concerned this wasn't that different to the times he'd decided Nate had had enough to drink and had prised him out of whatever bar he was in and rolled him home. Health and therefore happiness for everyone on the team – his job.

He was determined.

Hardison was irritated, Eliot was hanging round i again/i as if he was expecting something. Seriously, they were between jobs (thanks to his awesome hacking skills of . . . the previous night or . . . it might have been a little before that, he'd kind of lost track) what did the guy expect.

Hardison had heard and pointedly ignored him banging around in the kitchen and the snorts of disgust and disapproval. He'd got no idea what Eliot's problem was, but if the man wanted to make pancakes for breakfast, he should just get on with it. Hardison was never one to turn down a good breakfast but he was just in the middle of this . . .

Eliot's patience was at an end. He stalked into the living room and slammed his hand down over Hardison's keyboard, sending a jumble of keystrokes and commands skittering along the highways of netspace or whatever it was. He met the hacker's glare with one of his own and they both knew who'd back down first. "Off!" he snapped.

"What?" Hardison gasped.

"Turn it off, before iI/i turn it off!" Eliot growled softly.

"Seriously? I don't know what you think you're doing, man," Hardison complained despite the fact that he was actually doing what Eliot commanded. "You've got no right . . ."

"What's my job?" Eliot asked his voice menacing.

"Ummm . . . hitter?" The doubt was clear. Hardison had no idea where the conversation was going.

"Hitter . . . and what do hitters do?"

"Punch people?" Hardison's reply was met with a low growl. "Ummm, okay, keep the team safe." He nodded as if that was a better answer and hoped that Eliot agreed.

"Exactly. So I'm keeping you safe. We're turning the shit off and we're going out for some fresh air."

"Air? Fresh? Man," Hardison's voice rose on a moan. "I'm fine, I don't need fresh air. Not right now."

"You do. What time is it, Hardison?"

Eliot's hand snapped closed around his wrist so he couldn't see his watch so Hardison shrugged and said, "Breakfast?"

The glare got unbelievably deeper. "My point exactly. You can't be trusted to look after yourself. Now up, shower, change and we're going out."

Two hours later, they sat down to a meal in a restaurant that seemed really nice and wasn't that far from his apartment and Hardison finally admitted that maybe Eliot was right, a walk in the fresh air wasn't so bad, particularly when Eliot's mood lifted and he stopped snarling. He added mentally maybe he had gotten a little lost in the whole post con celebration and hadn't realized just how much time had passed. Seriously he hadn't felt hungry in the last 48 hours or well, he'd picked at some take out and yeah it wasn't as nice as the food he was eating now. He glanced back outside the window, watching the sky change colour as the sun set and felt a little twinge of guilt that he'd been so rude when really all Eliot was doing was looking out for him and he had got a little lost in the moment.

Maybe he could stand a little of Eliot's looking after. Might even get him some pancakes in the morning.