Title: Fight Like Hell
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: movie night at Leverage HQ
Setting: Season 3 or 4?
Word Count: 906
Movie night at Leverage HQ was a little different tonight. When Eliot got his chance to choose what the team would be watching, he had hoped they'd at least see it through to the end, but no. Sophie flinched at the first sign of violence, then made some excuse about needing her beauty sleep and went to bed. Parker had headed to the kitchen a while back and never come back - the draft over Eliot's left shoulder told him she'd gone out the window - and Hardison had gone searching for her ten minutes later. That left Nate, who was still present in the room, but drunk enough he was sound asleep in the armchair already. That just left Eliot alone, well, not quite alone. Thanks to their latest job coupled with a huge mistrust on the hitter's part, Sterling was currently sat by the couch, tied tightly to a chair from the dining room table.
It was hardly a comfortable position for him to sleep in, and there was no way for him to escape, but Eliot was still surprised to realise the Interpol officer was actually watching the movie with interest. He wondered vaguely if he ever saw it before, if he was actually enjoying what he was watching, but he didn't ask, because he didn't really care, at least that's what he told himself.
"I can't believe the rest of your co-called team walked away from this," said Sterling then, as if he had heard Eliot's thoughts or something. "It's Bullitt! It's a bloody classic!" he pointed out, turning awkwardly to glance at the hitter.
"You like this movie?" he checked, swigging from his beer bottle. "You?"
"Yes, Spencer, me!" he rolled his eyes. "What's not to like about Steve McQueen? I'm surprised you like it, since he's playing a cop. Aren't we your sworn enemies?"
"Don't!" Eliot almost spat beer everywhere just trying to get that word out as emphatically as possible. "Don't put yourself in the same class as McQueen, okay?" he told him snippily, gesturing towards the TV with the bottle in his hand. "This guy, he's... he's a legend. You're not even worthy to watch his movies."
Sterling almost expected it when Eliot suddenly got up and swivelled the chair around so the Interpol agent was facing the wall rather than the TV screen.
"Well, that's not extremely childish, is it?" he told the hitter, even as Eliot smirked in satisfaction.
"Shut your mouth, or I'll gag you too," he grumbled as he went back to watching the movie.
It was all of two minutes later that he realised something was wrong with the audio, or at least it seemed that way. He was all aware of the fact that Hardison had speakers all over the apartment to get the best possible surround sound, but still. It was almost as if someone was echoing all of Bullitt's lines... in an English accent?
"Sterling!" he ground out, looking back over his shoulder and glaring at the other guy. "Shut up!"
"What's up, Spencer? The British bloke not supposed to know the words, is that it?" he asked looking back at him with a sparkle of fun in his eyes. "Newsflash, Sparky, Bullitt was an inspiration to me too."
Eliot laughed out-loud at that, pausing the dvd and giving Sterling his full attention now.
"Bullitt inspired you?" he echoed what he thought he was hearing but could hardly believe. "He stood up for what he believed in. He watched a man he swore to protect die. He made the hardest choice, between the woman he loved and the job he swore to do."
"And you don't think I understand that?" asked Sterling, with more anger in his looks and tone than Eliot ever expected. "You think you're the only one to lose people, Spencer, to watch people suffer because of something you've done? You think that you're the only one to have loved and lost in your pathetic little life? Guess again."
Eliot got more and more angry as Sterling tried to cut him down, the two of them staring into each other's face, practically radiating fury. The intensity of their gaze was such that if in a movie itself, the moment ought to end with a punch... or a kiss. As it was, it ended with a pair of smiles, led by the hitter and echoed by the Interpol agent.
It seemed wrong to think it and yet realisation hit them both in the same moment. They fought so hard because they saw a flicker of themselves in the others eyes. It was normal for people so similar on the inside, to repel on the outside, when perhaps they really ought to be closer because of it.
"When I believe in something..." said Eliot slowly, pausing very deliberately as he kept returning Sterling's intense look.
"...I fight like hell for it," he completed the famous McQueen quote with a smile.
Eliot smirked, got up from his place on the couch to turn the chair back towards the TV. Once back in his seat, he flipped the dvd back on and relaxed a little.
"You're still not going to untie me, are you?" asked Sterling with a heavy sigh.
"Maybe later," the hitter shrugged, sending a wink his way. "If you ask nice."
Sterling bit his tongue and concentrated on the movie, but the smirk on his lips was unmistakable.
